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Once more in a well-lit command center, a stern-faced woman addresses her superior.
“We are being worn down to the nub on the supply front, sir. It has been a week since our declaration, and our munitions stockpiles are running out faster than estimated. This has only been exacerbated by the collection of defectors from loyalist units, who come often with their machines and combat personnel, but rarely with their own supply trains, causing greater strain on our own. The destruction of our largest supply dump two days ago has forced this situation into a crisis.”
“I am aware. So how much time do you estimate our Cause has, Nero?”
“If we were going to continue with the current rate of expenditure, then I would expect another two weeks. If we pull back to a defensive posture, restrict our forces to low-level skirmishing and shy from battle, we can probably extend that out to a month, six weeks, or more. Depending on how aggressive the Loyalists are.”
“And if the Empress forces battle in a month, I will be forced to send my soldiers to it with no bullets for their guns, no missiles for their launchers, and riddled with holes for lack of armor. No, a defensive posture would only give us a slow death, withering on the vine. It is also wholly untenable from a political perspective. So. Solutions.”
She consulted her tablet once more.
“I have already ordered refitting of in-repair mechs to favor energy-heavy loadouts, and rationed the distribution of missile and shell stockpiles. The worst-off machines are being stripped for parts to facilitate this. Salvage crews have secured considerable armor and myomar stockpiles from picking over destroyed machines on the battlefield. That, at least, is one thing we have no shortage of.”
“I do appreciate you telling me this after the fact. But you will need to countermand some of those orders. Remove the rationing. I must bring Army Group Center to battle in three days, and trying to fight with one arm tied behind our men’s backs does no good.”
“Sir?”
“The weather, Major. The meteorological reports tell us that the storms which have covered our skies so far will be gone in three days. At which point, the airpower of her Imperial Majesty will once again begin to prove a decisive factor. Mother nature has given us her blessing for now, though, so I intend to make the most of it.”
Major Nero snapped into a sharp salute, spun, and marched out.
Competent subordinates truly were the key to success.
