Near New Albion
“We may have to withdraw from this system, Commander.”
The destruction of the Grugell’s last remaining ground base on the planet had been a major blow, and there wasn’t another Occupation ship available to take up the duties of the one mysteriously destroyed some time ago. Occupation Commander Kiddastachik XI was seeing his career – and possibly his life – go down the drain before his eyes. Only a stroke of good fortune had placed him on an inspection tour on the heavy cruiser P-19 when the Occupation ship was destroyed, his offices and staff along with it.
The rest of the war with the human Confederation had settled into a high-tech stalemate. A series of border skirmishes bled both sides slowly, while low-intensity fighting on the planet below had been steadily diminishing what little force Kiddastachik was able to put down on the surface. For one entire solar orbit of the planet below, the Occupation Commander had sat in his new flagship and watched his Occupation go down the drain.
There had to be a way out. Withdrawal of Grugell forces from the system could only be seen as an admission of failure, and the new Emperor’s policy on failure was harsh and unforgiving.
“No,” the Commander said at last. “We won’t withdraw. There are only a few hundred humans down there fighting us. We are warriors of the Grugell Empire, not food animals! Get me a tactical display of the planet’s surface.” His sole remaining aide bowed and withdrew from the Commander’s private quarters.
“We won’t withdraw,” he repeated, quietly, to himself. “There’s only a few hundred of them down there. We’ve got the resources to wipe the planet clean.”
New Albion, the Crow Ridge Mountains
It began at the far eastern end of the range, hundred-kiloton nuclear bursts walking up the Crow Ridge Mountains.
Jason MacFeeters’ guerillas saw and heard the bursts in the distance, but there was little that could be done. A hundred or so families were sheltered in deep caves in the extreme west end of the range, but other than that, the guerillas and fugitives were scattered out in a few dozen small camps in the deep forest. Hide tents and huts of rough planks were no shelter at all.
The nuclear fireballs marched relentlessly up the spine of the mountain range. As they proceeded, trees were flattened, huts and tents incinerated along with their contents before being swept away by the repeated blast fronts.
Twenty minutes after the first warhead dropped out of orbit, the human presence on New Albion was all but extinct; fewer than a hundred people were left in the cave shelters, and over sixty of them were children.
For the time being, New Albion belonged to the Grugell.
The Orleans
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.”
Heads turned in the Orleans Combat Information Center. Admiral Gauss stood up to look over a main scanning tank at Master Chief Petty Officer Paul Ortega. “What’s on your mind, Master Chief?”
“Well, sir, we’ve made some progress with the hit-and-run tactics. We’ve taken out two Occupation ships and a few cruisers and frigates. But you know, sir, this whole thing is going to fall into a war of attrition if we keep this up. We can’t win a war like that; not with our logistics headaches.”
“He’s got a point, sir,” Captain Jensen observed. “The Grugell can just order more ships built and damn the cost. We’ve got to wait for Congress to decide to get off their asses.”
“We do have the Arcadia on its way to us now,” Gauss mused. “And the Ranger will be off the ways in another three weeks. What are you thinking, Master Chief?” Gauss had learned to trust the veteran NCO as he trusted few others.
“Well, sir, look at it this way. I did some boxing when I was younger – held the Inter-Service middleweight belt for three years. First thing I learned was that you don’t get a TKO by going for your opponent’s arms and legs. You had to hit him in the head and body, sir, you know what I’m saying?”
“Aim for their higher command structure? On their side of the line, invade their space, is that what you’re getting at?”
“Not by half, sir,” Ortega nodded. “Look here.” The grizzled NCO stepped up to the scanner tank and, tapping swiftly on a keyboard, brought up a display of the Galactic arm. “See here, sir, is Confederate space.” A portion of the starfield turned faintly blue. “And this is what we’ve identified of the frontier with Grugell space.” A portion of the blue area glowed red on one side. “Now, look at that. Look at the topography of that, sir.”
“They’re all on the outer portion of the arm,” Captain Jenkins said softly.
“Yeah. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Get to the point, Master Chief. Why does it make sense?” Admiral Gauss was intrigued but his patience wasn’t limitless.
“Sir,” Master Chief Ortega pointed at the red border, “I been doing some reading. The stars and systems out here on the edges of the arm are lighter in heavy elements, the suns are smaller, and their systems are smaller. We know the Grugell come from a low-gravity world, right? They sure have a hard time in our gravity. That means a planet that’s low in minerals and metals – power metals especially, I figure. Well, sir, what they want and need is more sources of strategic minerals, and that means moving in closer to the main run of the arm.”
“Right into us,” Gauss breathed.
“Roger that, sir. Well, all this time we’ve been fighting them in our space, on our side of that line. Sir, it seems to me that their logistic situation probably is more like ours than we think. It seems to me we should be looking for and breaking them up at their own logistical sources on their side of that line.”
“Cut them off at the knees – is that what you’re thinking?”
“You got it, sir. And then deal with their Fleet once we’ve cut off their support from home.”
“Master Chief, I think you’ve got something here,” Gauss grinned. “Captain Jensen, call in all the primary staff and get the Crisis Action Team up and running. You’ve got twenty-four hours to plan; I want at least three options for a reconnaissance in force into Grugell space, followed by a deep strike mission.” He looked around the room. “We’re going to go for broke, people.”
Tarbos
“Seventeen Confederate planets, now,” President Cochet said to herself.
Seated at her huge oak desk, the Confederacy’s fifth President was engaged in her usual morning routine of scanning a condensation of the major network news screens, thoughtfully compiled and organized for her by her staff.
Vice President Fund’s head popped up where he sat in a large chair on the other side of the desk. “The plebiscite passed, eh?”
“Yes, by over eighty percent of the vote. Mars is now the seventeenth Confederate world, instead of a Company planet run by Off-World Mining.”
“It may be the sixteenth after all,” Fund replied.
“I won’t accept that. Not even after the bombing. New Albion is our planet, and we’re going to take it back, even if we take it back as a radioactive cinder. There’s a message to send here, John.”
“Admiral Kosake disagrees. He’s ordering the Fleet to move closer in towards Tarbos, to form a defensive line against any more incursions.”
“I know.” President Cochet grinned tightly. “Admiral Kosake isn’t Commander in Chief, though, John – I am. I told him once, if he couldn’t win this war on the terms I wanted, I’d find someone who could.”
Vice President Fund narrowed his eyes. “I’d guess you already have.”
“And you’d be right.”
“Admiral Gauss?”
“No other.” Cochet’s frown disappeared. “He’s planned every successful operation the Navy has carried out since this fracas began. And on top of that, he’s commanded each of those operations from either the Orleans or the Mountain View. He’s commanding from the front, and I like that.”
“Keeps his headquarters in the saddle, so to speak.”
Cochet nodded. “He’ll have to.” She smiled humorlessly. “His first job is going to be taking back New Albion.”
Grugell
The news hit the Imperium, and the Emperor Himself, like a rockslide. Apportamattid wasted no time in calling his senior advisors together to discuss a discovery made by a cloaked frigate, the K-221, that had been deep in Confederate space analyzing traffic patterns.
“And so, Highness, we followed the tracks to their source. Our analysis of the traffic patterns led us to a nexus in a sector we’d not explored before; our error previously was in assuming that the humans spread out more or less evenly, globally in fact, from their original planet. That has not been the case. The nexus we sought was here,” Group Commander Traskellid IV pointed at a bright blue spot on a holographic map of the spiral arm, “and here we found the human home world. It’s a large, heavy world, as are most of the worlds favored by humans, and like most of their worlds it’s rich in mineral and other resources. But more importantly, Highness, it is vastly more developed than any of the other human worlds we’ve found; there is a massive orbital city and shipyard, and the human population runs into the billions, many times that of the other worlds. It’s lightly defended by a series of armed satellites and two small human ships, slightly larger than our frigates.”
“They do not suspect we’ve found their home world, then,” the Emperor mused.
“The data suggests not,” Traskellid agreed, “Else they would not leave the planet so lightly defended.”
Apportamattid snapped his fingers. “Suggestions. Comments.”
“Strike at once,” Admiral Dakterrid XII snapped. “We can quickly recall the major ships we have operating near the Confederate frontier now, re-arm and re-supply them for a strike on the human home world. I suggest an orbital bombardment of major cities, followed by a reinforced Occupation.”
“Are you willing to leave much of our frontier undefended, then?” The Emperor’s voice was soft, but his tone was clear: You’d better be right; your life is the price of failure.
“I am, Highness.”
“Discuss.”
The discussion was heated and went on for some time; several of the Imperium officers disagreed on the course of action. But the outcome was never truly in doubt. The Grugell Navy was going to move on Earth, in force.
To see more of Animal’s writing, visit his page at Crimson Dragon Publishing or Amazon.
Oooh. Exciting!
>.>
<.<
…
Sorry. Super busy over here.
Shhh… let him sleep. He finally got his eyes closed.
the plot thickens
Setting up for the big finale. Lots of booms, screaming noooooo into the void before exploding, and eventually a tentative peace in our time. Alternatively, it could be the end of their pitiful band of Libertarian space men.
I’m excited.
Data Centers
I find no objection to them as long as:
They don’t use eminent domain to buy the properties.
They don’t get city/county/state tax breaks.
They don’t require city council members to sign non-disclosure agreements. (that happened locally)
Nope. I’m gonna hate on them, cuz they ARE going to be part of the surveillance state.
https://www.techtimes.com/articles/325087/20260820/flock-safety-builds-driver-profiles-without-plates-ai-reads-movement-patterns.htm
That is one of my main concerns too.
Earlier conversation about Canada Tariffs on steel and Aluminum got me thinking about the point of the tariffs, which are lost on most.
The point was to bring an industrial base back to the US for national security, as much as for jobs.
For those who have forgotten, it was American manufacturing might that won WWII.
All of which is preface to a video I saw about Drones and Cameras.
Chinese drone company DJI is probably the biggest drone manufacturer. The US recently banned them from selling here because they are a part of the military or in bed with the military or something. They also make some pretty cool gimbled cameras.
And here is what nobody is talking about….
If China were to decide to start going to war, it is their manufacturing prowess that would allow them to dominate any sizeable war that isnt nuclear.
And the most likely scenario would be a war fought largely with drones outfitted with rifles or bombs…. and DJI is perfectly placed to pump out millions and millions of drone-based weapons for dirt cheap.
You know, like the US did with M4 Sherman tanks and B24 bombers.
I agree that China would be unbeatable in Asia without nukes.
But no one has the ability to project forces to North America in sufficient quantities to take over North America.
The US’s primary vulnerability is ICBMs over the pole — Which we have been coping with longer than I have been alive.
But it absolutely means that US cannot remain the world’s policeman forever.
The way China continues to lose smaller scale Asian conflicts makes me wonder if the PLA is a paper tiger. Admittedly the last significant war rather than border skirmish was against Vietnam, where they could not achieve any strategic goals.
Not to mention that China has to go over Russia to get here.
I went to Guanzhou several times in the middle 2000s.
They have a billion people; can’t provide meaningful work to many; and struggle to feed them all.
One trip, we witnessed a crew of 20 or 30 women cutting the grass in the median of the highway with hand clippers — bent over — snipping at the grass.
Their economy is fragile at best.
The phrase I heard that described it was “China is the land of shortcuts and facades”. Makes it harder to tell what’s real, though a lot of their lies are meant for the other CCP members rather than the world at large. The municipal party officials don’t care about the world at large, they are about pretending to their bosses that they hit the targets the party set.
Viet Nam beat China faster than they beat us. And one crazy Sikh stopped them cold.
I have read a number of analyses from different perspectives arguing, pretty persuasively, that they have nowhere near that many.
As far as their economy goes, why would I take their claims at face value? I am sure, of course, that they can crank out a lot of ships and drones and whatnot, but I see no reason to believe that they have cracked the code and are the first authoritarian planned economy to become a world class economic juggernaut.
I have no reason to believe that China’s military isn’t typical – rotten with corruption and is far less capable than it might appear.
I was in Dongguan, China in the early 2000s to build glass melting furnaces. When their best welder showed up in shorts, flip-flops, and a little tinted piece of plastic, I knew I was in for a hard row.
I asked another guy for a 25mm hole drilled in a steel column. I had a hard time convincing him to drill it. He wanted to hot torch the holes (for a bolt carrying thousands of lbs of weight). We had to derate Chinese A36 steel by 30% to have enough safety margin.
One guy was electrocuted on our jobsite when he stepped in a puddle. The welders leads also ran through the puddle and were worn.
Lots of empty, half completed buildings. Roads to nowhere. The shards of glass built into the factory fence were not to keep people out, but to keep the workers in. They lived and ate at the factory. Everyone gathered for morning calistenics.
They may have improved since then.
Sounds like the glory days when little yellow people were throwing themselves of the top of the Foxconn building to get away from making iPhones.
Tariffs can be an effective way to distribute taxes across the end-to-end supply chain. The price elasticity of a specific good will obviously impact, but the “it’s a tax on consumers” narrative is nonsensical. Also – there are many items not currently manufactured or produced in the US that would respond to even small changes in margin assuming a consistent demand.
For those who have forgotten, it was American manufacturing might that won WWII.
Ford’s Willow Run plant is just one example. The mobilization of American industry in WWII is astonishing and completely unimagineable today.
In the Mike Rowe thing I saw the other day, he said America built three ships last year while South Korea built 100.
South Korean ships will all be ghost ships unless they don’t start having babies.
Ugh. Lose the don’t.
Some will say…
Manufacturing is irrelevant when the war will last as long as it takes for ICBMs to reach their targets.
The US nuclear arsenal is aging and highly suspect. But we only need about 10% to reach the target to wipe out everything.
It’s relevant if there’s a day after.
And here is what nobody is talking about….
Woop woop woop!
AI slop detected.
That and an the use of analogy in every other sentence. “The gov is cutting your services Like a hot knife through butter.” “While spending on human services is dropping faster than pants at an orgy.” I think AI writes like an old school rapper.
Government butter tastes like vaseline.
that would be so dissapointing
Speaking of AI slop- I watched a thing with a woman speaking to the camera. Her eyes were fixed on a point above and to the side of the camera but they weren’t moving as they would be if she had been reading a script. And her lip movement was about one step up technically from a Hanna Barbera animation.
sounds like the perfect woman
yeah, I went there.
All of the crappy casino app ads you see on Tubi and Pluto are now all-AI. They’re terrible.
Everything about this is ridiculous. First, that’s a damn good lookin’ 65yo. BUT! “A 65-year-old former Catholic school teacher is being accused of sexually abusing two teenage boys decades ago …taught chemistry at the all-boys Christ’s College in Finchley, north London nearly 40 years ago, has denied the claims from the men, who said they were 14 or 15 at the time.”
Let me tell ya. Forty years ago? (Or this morning?) No 14 or 15yo boys were harmed at the time. Their bragging rights rightfully exploded. And WhyTF do people care decades later? I didn’t see word of a possible settlement, though publicity’s expensive, and here it is for ‘free.’
Still, “Bowen is facing seven counts of indecent assault against two boys at the school and denies the charges across the board.” I’m sure settle it and get a ‘book deal.’ Statutes of Limitations exist for a reason. Yeesh.
https://nypost.com/2026/08/24/world-news/teacher-65-denies-sexually-abusing-boys-at-catholic-school-acting-like-she-was-in-a-sabrina-carpenter-video/