You carefully keep your face schooled as the phalanxes of graduates (more like raw recruits) march past, heading to the Protevs that will take them to the shipyard in orbit, where they will be billeted until another tin can comes off the lines and they draw the short straw. It saddened your heart o have to bear witness to this, but your brother had practically forced you to come to this review. Something about a... Surprise.
And I suppose that it was time for the reveal, you think morosely, as your brother walks up with... Admiral Daalan Frecate in arm? You blink, but immediately draw yourself to attention and salute your superior.
"Admiral Frecate. I wasn't expecting you to come see an old retiree, just waiting for his ticket to be drawn." You say stiffly, wondering why the decorated veteran was bothering to talk to one of the last generation.
"Commodore." A smile plays over her lips as she returns your salute, finally. "Your retirement is... Well, the reason I wished to speak to you."
You're instantly on guard. No Admiral, during these times, would use this as a lead in for small talk.
"So, the draft has caught up to me, has it?" You say regretfully, feeling the slight pulse of discomfort from your elbow, the farewell gift from a merchant raider that caused you to retire in the first place.
"In... A way, yes." The Admiral's eyes focus and she straightens, withdrawing her arm from your brother's to fold them behind her back as she transforms from a socialite to a military leader. "However, not for just any task. Would you allow me the honor of driving you back to your estate?"
You automatically nod and follow her as she leaves, shooting a questioning glance at your brother across the promenade. He merely responds with a shrug and a smile before turning to rejoin the crowd of nobles that had gathered for the review. Back down on the strip of pavement, the blocks of graduates had made way for the first platoons of Ship Borne Infantry, in their clumsy but effective armor.
Following Frecate to her limousine, you undergo a minor identity check before being allowed to enter it. And, instead of being greeted by the typical expanse of tasteful upholstery, you step into a mobile command center. Holographic displays are evident, albeit inactive, three aides are working near the front, and a pair of Ground Force soldiers were taking up residence in the rear.
It only takes a second for you to recover from the nonsequitor, before entering and taking a seat near the central holotable. Frecate enters after you, a slightly amused expression peeking through on her face, before it slams back into it's more serious mode.
"Commodore, I'm not going to lie to you. Out of all our reservists, you're the only one that can be said to have had actual combat experience. Not just hunting pirates or suppressing dissent, actual, honest to goodness military experience." She leans forwards in the seat she had taken, as the vehicle accelerates away from where it had parked. "As such, a, friend, of mine put forth your name in response to the activation of the next wave of ships coming out of the shipyards. After some deliberation, I accepted the recommendation, and decided to meet you in person to make sure."
You nod, having nothing to say to that.
"What do you think of our enemy, Commodore? I'm sure you heard what happened after the first waves of attacks." You barely hold back a wince, and she raises an eyebrow at you.
Solace is still a byword and rallying cry amongst the Coalition. After the first shots were fired on Geonosis, the Trade Federation had powerful elements that had taken the opportunity to launch 'punitive raids' against their largest competitor. Solace was the most populous of the outposts the Trade Order had laid down in the wider galaxy, with over eight hundred thousand citizens calling it home.
After the Federation, or rather Confederate, invasion, half had been kidnapped and sold to the Hutts. Intelligence agreed that this example had been a the actions of a single or small group within the Federation, but the fact that it had happened, and that it was Confederate personnel that had done it, gave the Trade Order a much needed rallying point against the aggression that was to come later on.
"I..."
[] "Hate them."
[] "Think they're just professional pirates, nothing more."
[] "Permission to speak frankly, ma'am?"
=====
Frecate leaned back, fingers steepling.
"Good. That attitude will serve you well, Admiral. You're being reactivated to command Squadron 18, in light of you're previous experience and actions to preserve the Trade order in the past."
You nod. You had been expecting that, actually, from the way she had accosted you.
"You'll receive your dispatch orders in the morning, as soon as it filters through the bureacratic morass." A small amount of venom leaks through the latter half of her sentence. For good reason, the Committees holding the Order together were known for their inability to act in a reasonable timeframe. Hopefully, that would be eased out of the picture as the Emergency Coalition pulled itself together. Otherwise, this would be a short war indeed...
=====
You walk slowly across the patio of your pension estate, and rub your hand across the wood that surrounded the door. Reading through the provided materials had been... Enlightening. You had known the situation in the greater galaxy had been tenuous, but open war? It had been a mere distant possibility... But now, it was tearing into the Order. Who knew how many homes, lives, and families had been shattered already...
With no need for purpose built warships in the last three hundred years, there was no infrastructure purpose built for manufacturing the heavier systems needed for a warship. For now, the Orde- the Coalition was falling back on the massive number of ships it owned shares in, and was pulling them in to convert to 'pocket' warships: civilian freighters refits that allowed them to be able to do something in a straight up fight. As such, losses had been heavy, so far, and it was projected to get worse as new build hulls filled the ranks, expanding the navy and making it a threat tot he Confederacy that had to be responded to. Intelligence pointed to two projected Confederate offensives in the next six months. And, as a Reserve Fleet, it would likely fall to you and your men to reinforce what garrisons were actually hit.
But for now, you had a list of the vessels you had been put in charge of, and had a few choices in regards to what to do about them. After all, these were hulls rushed out of the mothballs and refitting docks. Something had to have gone wrong.
You squint up at the clock in the foyer. Six o'clock, eh? You could have the first rounds of orders issued and reports demanded before you had to retire for the night, even at your age.
Fleet Generation
You have the opportunity to requisition and shuffle forces with the other, beginning to become active Reserve Fleets.
Base assets: twenty four Cobalt Light Frigates, seven Javelis Patrol Craft, two Garda PD Frigates, and a Kodiak Cruiser for a flagship.
Six Political Points banked. (cost in PP to receive the vessels/forces listed)
[] Three more Javelis Patrol Craft. (One PP)
[] Eight more Cobalts. (One PP) (can take multiple times)
[] Two Kodiak Cruisers are available, with slightly dodgy crews. (Two PP)
[] Sixteen Stilat Customs Corvettes, fresh from mothballs. (One PP)
[] Three Arcova Scout Frigates pulled back from antipirate duty. Career officers with a rotation of fresh crews. (Two PP)
[] One Hoshiko Cruiser, recently nationalized and restaffed. (Three PP)
[] Two Percheron Cruisers, just out of refits and ready for shakedown. (Three PP)
[] Batches from the recent graduates of Ground Force cadets. Who knew when combat infantry may be helpful. (One PP per company/60 men)
And, while on paper these ships are ready for combat duty... They have been recently reworked, crews shuffled, and generally upset. Who knows what may have fallen through the cracks. (Pick one)
[] Inspections, inspections... Have the ships checked over while the crews are on their last shore leave, to find out just what is wrong with them after twenty or more years in storage.
[] Crew reworking. Half of these crews are entirely raw. The other half are raw with a side order of more experienced spacers from half a dozen ships and homeworlds leading them and finishing their training. They'll need some drills and exercises to be able to work as a team in battle.
[] Supplies. Make sure your ships get a full load of everything they might need. Torpedoes, fresh rations, fuel, anything and everything required to run a ship in space.
