Dead Star Dockyards

227 Revision



The Holifanian delegation to Donovan's arms expo wore a similar set of expressions to those of the Sanctum's. They were blindsided by the demonstration too, but the reasons for their shock and awe were completely different. The Holifanians actually had some experience and knowledge about firearms, which meant they had more specific concerns.

"So nobody knows how they did that?" Montaug addressed the men who had borne witness to the plume of flame. Now gathered around one of their precious few conference tables, they could only be described as 'defeated'. "Nobody knows how they managed to keep the explosion contained outside of the barrel?"

"I'd like to say that they figured out a way to use Split to accomplish it. . ." One of them half-heartedly offered an explanation. ". . . but we know they don't have a grasp on it yet."

"Could the Arboreal Maiden have-"

"No, I don't think she had anything to do with it." Bishop Kayes shut down one of his compatriots before he could finish his thought. "He was far too confident and comfortable with the limits of that weapon for that to be borrowed. Whatever technology he utilized may be considered native to his people, which means that there is no Split involved in the process."

A collective rubbing of facial hair occurred, those without it stroking their chins or scratching their noses. 

"I don't know if that makes it scarier or not." One of the men expressed his trepidation over the prospect, one shared by the majority of those present. "Them having the capacity to harness Split by way of machinery is problem enough. If they managed to pull that off without Split, that phenomena is also possible without Split, and they understand it well enough to recreate it consistently."

". . . magnets?"

"I was thinking the same."

"As was I. The only problem is that I don't think gasses are magnetic."

"Ah, damn."

The Montaug closed his eyes, he was getting too old to handle this sort of thing. He didn't hate the Terrans for this, nobody else in the room was directing any malice in their direction for that matter, but he was certainly beginning to understand the extent to which they promised to be a problem. Call it laziness, call it ignorance, he had honestly been operating under the assumption that the gap between their technologies was something that could be overcome by clever wit and superior numbers if a conflict truly came about. Now it couldn't be any more obvious how much that wasn't the case.

Slowly opening his eyes, the first thing he focused on was a picture on the opposite wall. The subject of the photo was a fighter in the middle of a dogfight, it's opponent being the fighter the camera had belonged to. Despite the black, white, and primarily gray colors, a clearly visible line of tracers could be seen extending out towards it from the top right of the photo. Much like every other painting and photo on display in the Montaug's office, this was a famous piece, culturally significant in a number of ways. This one in particular was taken during the retaking of Tiran a few months after the death of one Second Private Ranger Montint Roguess, whose final message had enabled a rather devastating series of naval bombardments from mobile task force. The island could be seen in the distance along the bottom left, one of a select few images that displayed it as it was, without the filter of propaganda or zealotry.

He was reminded of the painting hung on the wall just outside his office door, the depiction of No Man's Land. More specifically, he was reminded of his conversation with Diana.

"Twenty million in four years, was it?"

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I didn't catch that." One of the men closer to him seemed to have thought that the Montaug was addressing him or the crowd.

"Sorry, I was thinking out loud." The Montaug waved away his concerns, returning to his thoughts. He tried to remember more about that conversation, about what they had talked about, about what Diana had revealed.

In short, he could not remember any direct information aside from that casualty statistic, but that didn't mean she hadn't told her things without saying them. For example, he remembered the mention of two dates, 1914 and 1918, likely the start and end dates of that war. More importantly, he remembered that she had qualified those years as 'in our history'. There was probably more than one way to interpret that short statement, but the one that the Montaug kept falling on was the implication that 'this event happened a long time ago'. Slowly, he sat back up, his hands moving to the back of his head.

"Trebar?"

"Yes sir?"

"How long after the end of the War of Trenches were we introduced to the galaxy?"

Trebar did not answer immediately, likely combing his brain for that information.

"I can't remember anything specific, but probably between twenty and twenty-five years?"

"Alright. Would you consider something that happened twenty five years ago to have happened 'a long time ago' in a historical sense?"

"Not at all."

"Damn."

The Montaug finally realized his mistake. He had been conversing with Donovan and Diana from the assumption that they had been 'removed' from their history at a similar time as his ancestors had, if only a little bit further down the line. He had taken Diana's understanding of trench warfare to be proof of this. What he had failed to consider was that he too knew what trench warfare was despite it happening so long ago, because that was part of history. The level of knowledge about a certain event was not necessarily a function of proximity to the event, meaning that '1918' could have been 20 years ago, or it could have been 2000 years ago. Having failed to directly ask her, he didn't know just how much time there was between the end of the Holifanian Theocracy's technological development and that of the Terrans.

"I am afraid I must apologize to all of you. It would appear that I have failed to properly consider just how far ahead of us they could be."

"What do you mean?" "I thought it was kind of obvious. . ." "What are we looking at in terms of error?"

"I had though that the two of them had an advantage of a few decades, perhaps a century or so on the extreme end." The Montaug stood up, moving toward the table at the rear of the room. "Now that I have thought more about it, it seems obvious that my 'extreme' guess should not have been the extreme maximum, but the extreme minimum. I believe there is a very real possibility that we are dealing with people that have upwards of a thousand year head start on us."

The room, already silent, became quiet enough for each person to hear the beating of their own heart. They had pretty much figured this out already, it was already impossible to imagine how long it would take to develop a system similar to that weapon based on their understanding of 'pure' physics. Given the fact that those present were among the most well read and informed on such topics owing to their job involving the reporting of such developments across the galaxy, it was safe to say that nobody in the Theocracy knew the principles behind that weapon. 

If this was true, and they had no reason to doubt it wasn't, then there was at minimum one 'step' of technological and scientific advancement between themselves and the Terrans. When they considered how Donovan had managed to get the Pegasus functional in spite of the limited resources at his disposal, the gap became that much more apparent.

"So what are we going to do?" Gawan began to tap his pen against the table, a rare expression of nervousness and trepidation on his face. "Eliminating or otherwise neutralizing them is off the table given their connections to the Arboreal Maiden and the Great Csillacra, and I can't imagine our people would take kindly to a potential source of salvation being cut off with regards to resource production for a worthy cause and the evacuation of the Nekh."

"I agree. While I admit to having a degree of personal bias towards them given our relationship, I do not think it would be possible to defeat them on the field of battle based on what little we know of their capabilities." Trebar chimed in as well, reinforcing the thoughts of his friend that a hostile position towards them was not likely to be the best course of action. "That also means that rooting them out will be impossible once they have established themselves, so our policy position with regards to our support for them can't be changed further down the line. If we intend to make friends of them now, we will have to ensure that they remain friends until the end of time."

"Why is that? Is it not possible for us to catch up some time in the future?"

"The problem with the proposition of 'catching up' is that we do not know how long it will take for that to happen." Bishop Kayes offered his expertise on the subject. "If we were to assume, and this is just a random number here, that it will take a minimum of a century for us to reach the level of scientific and technological understanding that they are at currently, then they will have had a century to consolidate, expand, and conduct further research that puts them ahead of where they sit currently. We also have to consider how long it will take for our society and military to adapt to those changes, which is likely to be a considerable amount of time given how long we have been using our current equipment. This means that they will have more time to expand, enhance, consolidate, research, whatever."

"So we will get stuck in a cycle of constantly being a step behind?"

"Yes, but there is also the experience aspect." Trebar gently elbowed Gawan and made a silent 'gimme' gesture with an open hand. "If what the Montaug said is true, and that they have had a thousand years of time to develop beyond us, then they will also have a thousand more years of experience with that development. You would be a fool for ignoring it, and I'll give you an example. Take this pistol. It's a standard issue piece, ubiquitous among those in our armed forces who express a desire to use such weapons. Most of our people understand, on some level or another, how to maintain, use, and construct such a thing, even if they lack the specific training to do so. I doubt that even the most intelligent of the nobility outside of our borders would have even the slightest idea of how best to employ such a weapon when compared to their experience with swords and knives.

That isn't to say that they can't use it, I am certain that after explaining the basic functions of the pistol they will understand how, they just won't be able to build tactics around it as efficiently as we might. They might view light wooden cover as something that can stop the bullet, we understand that it is generally not enough to prevent killing the person on the other side. They might think it is a good idea to ricochet bullets off of a wall in order to hit someone around a corner, we know that doing so is inaccurate and presents just as much harm to you. The same general idea is true for almost every component in an armed force, including the people. 

When it comes to whatever secrets Donovan is keeping, we are effectively the same as that noble. We have not had the hundreds of years of letting laymen, geniuses, idiots, and eccentrics do as they please with this stuff in order to see what does and doesn't work. They have. That means that whenever we do get our hands on those advancements, there is an incredibly high chance that he will know what we are going or trying to do with it before we do. That will allow him to come up with much more effective countermeasures and provide insights into methods of attack we simply hadn't considered, or would have been unable to prevent anyways."

Some of the men in the room pinched the bridge of their noses, others brought up a hand to rub their eyes. They had been the preeminent power in the galaxy for a nigh immeasurable period of time, discounting the Sanctum of course. Now they were forced to contend with becoming number three, and they were going to help that power grow of their own volition. This was not a particularly palatable proposition for them, but it was the most bitter for the man who was telling them all about it.

"Had they only been about a decade or so ahead, we wouldn't have had this problem nearly as bad. With that small a gap, it would be conceivable for us to make up the difference in quality with quantity. We would have been at a disadvantage with regards to tactics and strategy, but getting to the point of parity would have been a fairly reasonable task. Right now, I'm not even sure if we would be able to mount an offensive against them right now."

"Why is that?"

"Really? Are you really asking that after what we just saw?" Kayes suppressed the urge to slap the man sitting next to him.

"Wha- I, I mean, they only have one ship."

"They only need one ship. There are exactly two of them, and that ship is more than large enough to handle them. If ever they feel that they can't win, they can just run away, and there is absolutely no chance that we would ever be able to touch them."

"I wonder if an assassination is on the table."

"I doubt you would be able to get away with something like that." Trebar dismissed that thought. "The Nameless have pledged their fealty to him, likely under orders from the Arboreal Maiden. If you think you would be able to do something under their noses then-"

"Enough." Montaug finally shut this conversation down, dissatisfied with the direction it was heading. "I have made my decision. Under no circumstances are we to assume a hostile stance towards the Terrans. Our current policy position towards them is to be maintained with the utmost level of vigor. I will be having a serious conversation with the Archbishops to determine the extents to which further support can be provided. Kayes, Trebar, Gawan, I need you to remain. The rest of you are dismissed."

- - - - -

"Montaug. How long has it been since last we spoke."

"About a week or two, Archbishop Envers. Much too long if I had to say."

"Ha! Well, I thank you for your consideration with regards to how busy we have been these last few weeks. That said, I don't think you are the type of person to summon the Council of Archbishops out of a desire to catch up with old friends . . . is it the Terrans?"

"Indeed."

"Are they in some sort of danger?"

"Quite the opposite."

"The opposite?" There was a decently lengthy pause, Archbishop Envers likely looking at each member of the council with a modicum of incredulity. "If they aren't in danger, then I must ask why we have been summoned. We do not exactly have the time for insignificant developments."

"I think you misunderstood. I was not saying that there was no danger to the Terrans, I was saying that the Terrans are the danger."

"Pardon?"

"Worry not, we will explain. Who is currently present at the council?"

"Ah, of course. Archbishops Eban, Muarikyo, Adiren, and myself are present. Unfortunately, Archbishopess Monda is making a diplomatic visit to the Ilfalian Regency Council to relay what progress we have made on the Hunter case. I take it you have company as well?"

"Yes. I am accompanied by Trebar, Gawan, and Bishop Kayes."

"Oh, yes, that's right. Bishop Kayes, I take it you arrived without issue?"

"You know my opinion on their line of work, but for the most part nothing of note happened."

"So something did happen?" A different voice spoke, Archbishop Adiren.

"Well, we did have one incident where Lebenstrum made a pass at Missus Petunia. . ."

". . . business as usual, I suppose."

"I would appreciate it if we stayed on topic, gentlemen. What the Terrans showed us today merits a complete and total revision of our policy towards them. They are far more advanced than we had thought, centuries rather than decades."

"It was an arms demonstration, they displayed a weapon more powerful than anything smaller than a battleship cannon which we could never hope to reproduce."

"Well, if Kayes says so I don't think we have to worry about exaggeration, do we?"

"I say not. What is it?"

"Based on function and the explanation given, it is something along the lines of a massive shotgun. At the right range, it demonstrated the ability to break a standard galley in half. Keep in mind that this was at an appreciable distance, and it did so using a technique or mechanism that none of us stationed at the Sanctum have any idea how to recreate. You'd really need to see it in action to understand what we are talking about, but Trebar and I are in agreement that it would be impossible to defeat them militarily."

". . ."

"That's . . ."

"In light of this, it is my opinion that we should abandon any pretenses of a potential conflict against them. In order to benefit the most from this situation, I think we need to throw our lot in with them. We should probably commit to a formal alliance rather than a guarantee of protection."

"Just to clarify, this is not the sort of alliance we hold with our protectorates, right? This is a formally recognized alliance between equal parties?"

"Yes. I doubt they would ask us to join their offensive wars, and I don't think they would accept such our call at their current level, but Gawan and Trebar have proposed that we do so as a way of smoothing our advance to parity with them. Sending attaches and volunteer troops would help the both of us at this early stage. We would get some insights into their technology and sciences, while they would receive assistance in the development of a professional army."

". . . we'll need to call a parliamentary meeting in order to decide on something this important, but I think it may be on the table. Is there anything else?"

"Resources. Given their current and expected rates of construction, I think it would be a good idea to approach them with an offer of raw or processed resources financed by the state. They are aware of the current unrest problems to some degree, so I don't think this would raise too many suspicions. It would also give them the ability to increase the scale of construction to match their predicted surge in population. I don't think it would be a good idea to offer them anything mechanical, such as vehicles or machinery. They have clearly demonstrated the ability to construct such equipment themselves, and I fear that our products will be viewed as inferior or inadequate for the tasks they require."

"Hmm. The steel foundries are still struggling to get up to speed, and I don't think we will be able to produce any meaningful quantity of copper soon. What about chromium and tungsten? Oh, oil too."

"It would depend on how much they need. We can provide a rather significant amount of both from our stockpiles, but beyond that it would take a while to expand the operations of the mines. So long as they provided the method of transport, I can't imagine we would ever run out of oil."


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