Alexander Slim glanced down at the book in his hands.
Defeat into Victory by Viscount William Slim, his distant ancestor according to family lore (and some DNA serendipitously acquired a century prior).
The greatest general of World War 2 they said, the only one that had taken an army nearly broken in defeat, forged it into a weapon to then smash the enemy that had done so by his own merit.
A general that presided over the longest retreat in British military history, kept his men intact despite constant air attacks and encirclements by the enemy, and done so without any preparation as he had been dropped into the thick of it without warning.
The more pressing part was that he was the one that had broken the Japanese Army on land, with their full capabilities on display. Not on islands where they were starved out and under constant air and artillery bombardment, but on their own terms. Meeting their advances head on and demolishing them.
Of the 3 field armies of the Imperial Japanese Army that were destroyed in WW2, 1 was by Zhukov, 2 were by Slim.
An enemy that was infinitely more similar to the Draconis Combine than anyone else.
A victory that Alexander was definitely trying to draw inspiration from because, and let's be honest here, he was out of his depth when it came to managing his regiment.
A regiment that he had been given with the assumption he would be able to work the restless ones of the Clan until they stopped agitating for war.
Those who had been born from more militant strains and wanted purpose in life.
In other words, those that absolutely refused to wait out their lives, rotting away on Tetersen.
They were like he, they wanted to matter, and they were going to do that if it killed them.
And so he was reading this book, he was going to apply the lessons of the book into the training of his regiment, he was going to then apply it to the Combine.
His eyes narrowed.
The lesson that he had learned from this book was in essence, very simple.
Logistics mattered.
If you had the best army in existence, it mattered little to nothing if you did not also have the logistical capacity and capability to supply it. The greatest soldiers in existence would still feel hunger and thirst, still feel the need for recreation and desire, still be affected by morale.
If he could not handle these matters… he wasn't going to have a victory or glory worth talking about, that much was for certain.
The question was how exactly he could do that when he was just a Colonel in charge of a house regiment.
Alexander sighed as he continued to ponder the problem.
A minor problem that he would need to be aware of was that he was in charge of a house regiment. One that generally stayed in one place and didn't do much outside it. Looking food on parade grounds and little else.
He was going to need to finagle them into a combat deployment but, well, that was a problem for later.
A minor one.
Figure out how to beat the enemy first, everything else came later.
Tetersen was one stop away from Tharkad, capital of the Lyran Commonwealth. It would be full of ambitious generals that could be persuaded to help with his goals.
Tetersen was a backwater given that Tharkad sucked everyone and everything around it into a vortex with its inextricable gravitational pull. He could use that pull to throw inquiries into the wind and see who answered.
+Break+
I beam.
Another call to the tunnel drilling team, the excavation team, factory team, the factory itself producing many of the materials I needed for its expansion… and in two months, 8 RP had been spent to build a second factory, a complete mirror to the first with requisite work force.
We were going to be getting roughly 50 Utes a month from both of them together.
600 a year I think, which, really, wasn't all that much from the memories of my first life.
But hey, it was enough to give me 16 RP in total.
20.8 after the faction bonuses.
Which, again, meant that I was going to be able to produce another factory on the same scale as both of them together, plus some… or perhaps hire mercenaries to protect what I already had?
The problem of course, was that I wasn't in charge of Tetersen, so I couldn't raise units to keep my factories safe in the event of an invasion. Not that it was all that much of a concern give the proximity to Tharkad and how far the enemy would need to travel to reach us, but I liked having options.
The best part of this turn ending meant that I had been spending my time preparing. Specifically, preparing for what I wanted to design in terms of a new vehicle. Planning it all ahead of time meant that I was going to be able to, well, not spend subjective weeks of time stuck inside of a simulator trying to fit a muffler on something that didn't even need it.
!!!!
Seriously.
Why did they have the option to have a muffler if I had a fusion powered vehicle? That was just mean.
"How do you feel about finishing this second factory and adding to Tetersen's industrial capacity?" The voice jammed itself into my ears. Like a knife into the balls, it was unpleasant and not what I would want repeated, ever.
It was so bad that I let out a manly 'what the fuck' as I jerked and jumped upwards.
I turn my head and, well, there it was, a reporter, the kind that would prefer it if we all died so she could have a good story to tell.
Oh right, there were reporters here.
Here to talk about my factory.
"Pardon." I ask, putting my finger into my ear, seriously, that was loud.
"How do you feel about finishing this second factory and adding to Tetersen's industrial capacity?" She asked.
Hmmmm.
What do I feel?
Pride?
Some of it? It was mainly the system that did the work though, like, without it, I wouldn't have been able to do much at all.
Joy?
Well, I was, on many levels actually, dreading the designer program that was going to meet my metaphysical eyeballs tonight when I went to sleep.
Satisfaction?
Well, not much of it given how much the system did all the work and how little I actually contributed with my two hands on my own volition.
Hmmmmm.
That said, I did manage to speak to a few people without the system telling me loudly and brutally to do this and that instead. It was as if I managed to do some things on my own even. That was pretty good.
Hmmmmm.
Yeah, I was getting better at this stuff, that was something to be proud of.
"Proud I think. I'm getting better at this and I'm going to keep getting better." I say, feeling pretty good about my answer.
+Break+
Alexander Slim looked at the information on the pad before him. It's LCD screen flickered slightly.
He hummed slightly.
It appeared that the wonder-kin was causing all kinds of problems now wasn't it?
The kind of problems that were now slamming into them with the weight of a train.
It was difficult to keep their presence on Tetersen hidden away if everyone started coming here for the purpose of purchasing war materiel and brought with them their security entourage. Or the many many men and women involved in the intelligence services whose task it was to keep an eye on industrial concerns and keep them safe.
The cat was well among the pigeons and he couldn't be more happy about it.
"Christine!" He called out, beaming at his cousin as she stood there, looking for all the world like she wanted to be somewhere else.
"Good morning Alexander." She said back as her eyes darted across from him to his left.
Oh.
Oh!
He suppressed a laugh.
His little cousin was trying to appear like a responsible adult in front of her boss.
Well, he wouldn't make things too hard for her.
+Break+
I looked at the man in front of me. Bright white on his blue uniform.
The braid was almost blinding white actually.
"He's a leader in the local mercenary Regiment." Whispered the Christine (ha! remembered her name) behind me.
Ah, right, mercenary leader, I wonder why he was here.
"Good afternoon Mister Vu." He said to me.
Really, a mercenary. Travelling the inner sphere, shooting up bad guys and being paid for it. Seeing all the sights. Meeting all the people. Then maybe shooting them.
I wonder if my life would have been different if I had been a mercenary, a proper field regiment even, someone that wasn't just a member of the militia when I had been conscripted. I had gone to camp, been trained, sat around in a barracks for a while, then gone back to regular life while 'going on drill' every few weeks.
Like a member of a reserve army in my previous life.
Then I was out, seeing a few Battlemechs stomping was really cool, but I wasn't allowed near one, wasn't tested for it, and then finished my service.
Like.
Really, I couldn't help but think that maybe, in another life, I could have been a leader of men, going around and starting fights because I could or something like that. Shooting up the Combine or the Leaguers, those enemies that I had never actually seen with my two eyeballs, and getting medals, adulations.
But, well, it hadn't happened and here I am now, trying to turn Tetersen into something that could rival Tharkad. Not because anyone had asked me, but because I was annoyed one time and my own mental fixations had stuck on that.
I was self aware enough to realise I had my fixations but lazy enough to not bother trying to change them. I was a lazy bastard, I knew, everyone knew it.
Well, everyone that paid attention to me at least, I didn't exactly do much in my own time. Once work was done, I was done and all that.
No overtime for me!
Ah right, there was someone in front of me.
"Good morning!" I said with a smile.
I liked smiling.
"Yes, it is a good morning isn't it?" He said back and I kept smiling.
This here, I thought, was a man that knew how to appreciate the good weather of Tetersen right now. Soft morning light that didn't irritate the skin, not like the 45-50 degree summers of my first life in the city of Perth, being smacked in the face by the sun as you exited your air conditioned class room. The heat reminding you again and again why life was harder than it needed to be as you shuttled to and from your classrooms, hordes of burning space heaters called children following you.
Even better it wasn't wet either. It was, if one could say it, the perfect humidity for one to enjoy their lives. That being very little. Not enough to dry out your lips and not enough to make your armpits feel like wetlands
A little wind to keep everything cool, and yes, this was indeed some of the best weather I have ever had to experience.
"Yes. It's perfect." I said.
"Haha." He laughed.
I wondered why he was laughing. "Haha?" I laughed too so he wouldn't feel embarrassed by being the only one laughing.
"Mister Vu, I am in the business of fighting. I wanted to see what you have that can assist me in the process of fighting the Combine. I would be incredibly glad if you could help me in this area." He said as I looked at him.
Wow.
A fighting leader wanted me to help him?
That was, that was pretty amazing actually.
Like, no joke, if I couldn't do the fighting, then being able to help the ones doing it was pretty amazing as well.
Wow.
"That is an honour. How can I help?" I said to him, wow, someone asking me for help?
Like, it didn't happen all that much did it? But, I could help someone? That's pretty amazeballs. If I could, why not?
+Break+
Alexander had been prepared for many things before meeting with Huu Vu.
He had, with his staff/family members brainstormed what they knew of an industrialists desires. More specifically, what they knew of an entrepreneur's desires; the kind of people that craved building and designing something new to change the world in some way, or just making a profit.
Standing there with select members of his staff, the same as Huu's staff actually to make the situation feel equal for the younger man, he was struck by just how different Huu was to his expectations.
Waiting for him instead of making a mere mercenary to wait for him outside the entry doors of his factory. Bouncing on his feet even, the man was an open book. Sure he was family to Christine, but he wouldn't have known that.
With wide smiles, his every expression crossing his face, so much so that one had to wonder just how many thoughts a second were in his head as his face contorted and shifted constantly.
But, the part he felt he would remember until he died, was just how willing the other man was to help.
Beaming at him with wide eyes, his words, "How can I help," without any equivocation, just a willingness to assist him in his mission of killing the Dracs.
That would remain in his mind.
One would think him a fool perhaps for being so open.
Wide expansive sweeps of his arms as he pointed at different parts of the factory that he was giving a tour of.
Body twisting too and fro with enthusiasm as he smiled or laughed at what he was saying or the comments of those around him.
"That's the first part of the factory, where the resources come in. A pain in the ass to set up, let me tell you. Like threading a needle with thread, only your thread is split into 10 different ropes. Aaagh, pain in the ass to design."
"Andrew! How are you doing man?"
"That there is where we build the fusion reactors, tiny little things aren't they?"
"Jackson! How are the kids? Did you manage to get that new toy you were talking about?"
"Wooah, those are our tires. There's no standard across the Commonwealth you know? So I figured, if I could, why not just make a standard? If I make enough vehicles, then one of them would become the standard right?"
"Maxine! Maxine! Heard what happened last week, you gotta take care of yourself!"
His words rattled off, his expression brightening as those following him ooohed and aaahed appropriately.
Pointing at his staff by name, laughing, chatting, never acting for a moment like a cold and remote industrialist that some of the family had thought he would be.
Clearly they had never met him properly.
Always ready to give an explanation if asked, always ready to share his love of this Ute if asked. Going into the minutae of the design for minutes, possibly hours if not held back.
Alexander felt that he had enough to push and ask for help in the way that he wanted. On a basic level at least, the sale of a few of these Utes to his Regiment for use against the Dracs. Help redesigning the vehicle cradles to hold them. Perhaps even talk of selling the vehicles at cost.
He was, after all, someone personable, if a little strange in the way he acted.
He just couldn't put his finger on it.
A little oblivious to social cues perhaps?
Instead of heading to his office and continuing the discussion there however, they kept walking.
Past the expansion of the factory that doubled the production (which was certainly a surprise), the production line for Medium Lasers, Support PPCs, Mech scale Machine Guns (and their ammunition).
Then, they were into a new section of the factory. One that was in the middle of construction. Men drilling out entire chunks of the mountain that they were under. All for the singular purpose of, as the industrialist made a point of, building a new dual use vehicle.
The 20 Ton Utility Truck as he called it.
20 Tons of truck.
A cruising speed of 64.8 Kilometres an hour and a flank speed of 97.2 Kilometres an hour.
7 tons of armour.
5.5 tons of cargo capacity on a flat bed.
In other words, a bigger version of the Ute with the ability to plug in as many weapons as you could fit in that 5.5 tons. More if you stripped the armour.
If you wanted to, an LRM 10, several Machine Guns, several Medium Lasers even.
An empty truck bed that could be used in as many ways as one could imagine.
A bigger, better Ute.
All for the cost of 250,000 C-Bills.
The military establishment likely wouldn't bother. There were many other systems out there with established weapons systems… but there was also the fact militias without the ability to procure a stable supply of spare parts and weapons would be interested.
He could, in fact, see them buying the standard vehicles, modifying them with what was locally available and using them as a Mark 2 pattern.
This Huu Vu was making changes, big ones.
Better yet, Alexander was going to be getting in on the ground floor and possibly influencing Huu to produce what he needed to take the fight to the Combine.
It was we remembered in the family remembrances that Minoru Kurita had denied Alexander Kerensky and the SLDF right of passage through his realm to fight Amaris the Usurper.
A realm of traitors.
While the Inner Sphere apparently forgot, he did not.
For, if anything, if there was something a Wolverine was good at, it was remembering slights.
They gave us the edge in a fight after all.
+Break+
The Essentials of Morale, Defeat into Victory (1956) by Field Marshal William Slim
Spiritual
(a) There must be a great and noble object.
(b) Its achievement must be vital.
(c) The method of achievement must be active, aggressive.
(d) The man must feel that what he is and what he does matters directly towards the attainment of the object.
2. Intellectual
(a) He must be convinced that the object can be attained; that is not out of reach.
(b) He must see, too, that the organisation to which he belongs and which is striving to attain the object is an efficient one.
(c) He must have confidence in his leaders and know that whatever dangers and hardships he is called to suffer, his life will not be lightly flung away.
3. Material
(a) The man must feel that he will get a fair deal from his commanders and from the army generally.
(b) He must, as far as humanly possible, be given the best weapons and equipment for his task.
(c) His living and working conditions must be made as good as they can be.
We had this... If ever an army fought in a just cause we did. We coveted no man's country; we wished to impose no form of government on any nation. We fought for the clean, the decent, the free things of life, for the right to live our lives in our own way, as others could live theirs, to worship God in what faith we chose, to be free in body and mind, and for our children to be free. We fought only because the powers of evil had attacked these things...
+Break+
Total RP Turn 7 2991 + 9 Months
16 RP 8×2 Ute Factory
Lyran Bonus = 1 + 0.3
Total RP = 16×1.3 = 20.8