Sovereign

"Victory confirmed in the Northern Sea! Reports of the ONS Rebenslof sinking an entire Larissan Carrier Task Force had been confirmed by VACCOM Commander, Admiral Herard Tresckow in a press release in Redcastle this morning. This is after Commodore Albert Ludendorf, the famous Orlish War Hero from the Great War, and the brother of Orland's Queen, reportedly broke his self-imposed radio silence to report to the Orlish High Command. Admiral Herard Tresckow said that Commodore Albert had been shaken by the news of the Orlish Civil War. Nevertheless, he reportedly vowed to end 'the Imperial Menace' first in order to hold Orland's second front - the war in Vaeyox."

- Geopol Press

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If Amelie were to describe Major McKenzie, the first that would come to her mind was, "an absolute whiner". Though, she could hardly blame the logistics officer for his endless whinings.

And whine he did. As they toured the munitions depot, the man kept running his mouth about statistics. Awful statistics, and why it was everyone's fault, and why it would absolutely hamper the offensive.

Why, yes - he was a major pessimist as well.

"Now, I am telling you, that this absolute-"

The sound of disembarking trucks momentarily distracted him from his tirade, but he continued on.

"Piece of a clusterfuck, won't support the damned offensive. You've seen it, you've seen it right? That pallet of M855 projectiles? Those artillery shells only arrived this morning. Now look at it, we have none left! They shipped it all off!"

"Look, Major." William preferred a calm conversation. "I understand the logistical pains. But is it really that bad? We already factored this in the planning-"

"I've read the operational plans. What you two are asking me is impossible. Unless Rebenslof can magically ship me seven hundred tons of supplies and munitions each day before the end of the month, you will run into shortages by even the second day. I shit you not."

"Major, we can always ask the OHC to send more. We are merely evaluating the situation."

"And even then, Major Porter, I am telling you, the infrastructure in this bombed-out hellhole isn't in tiptop shape. Even if Rebenslof sends us 80,000 shells, for example, in the next 3 days, how the hell am I going to send it to your units that would be projected to be firing 40,000 shells every 8 hours, in that timeframe? I don't even have the trucking capacity for that, let alone the unbombed roads to actually ship said munitions."

Amelie crossed her arms. While the man did have a point, she didn't like his attitude about it. She wanted solutions, not problems. Especially with the upcoming counter-offensive, she wanted to stack the odds for herself and her loyalist troops.

She wanted a victory, not a complication.

But indeed, McKenzie did have a fine good point.

"Major."

He turned away from William toward her.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Can you just…give me a rundown? I know it is bad, but how bad, and how can we fix this."

"Oh, straight to the point I see. I think I'm liking you."

"McKenzie, you're bordering on insolence. Just answer her question." William warned, and he actually stiffened.

"Alright, alright. Look, Your Majesty. My point here is, we have a severe logistical issue if we start a counter-offensive. Right now, our troops are eating up 800 tons of munitions alone in heavy munitions daily. That's thousands of tank and artillery shells, every day. That doesn't factor in the rations, the medical supplies, the replacement parts, the small arms, the goddamned fuel, you name it. We only get what, 4,000 tons of supplies each day? That's not even regular. 3 days ago, they only sent 800 tons because the trains got bombed. And each day, I can only pump 1,800 tons at most in a rush to the frontlines. It's why our casualties are high. We sometimes lack the things that must be sent and the ability to send it."

She didn't quite understand his math, but she clearly understood his rantings. He was being asked to supply obscene amounts of supplies already. And the counter-offensive would ask for more.

She breathed in deeply.

"Is there no solution to that, Major?"

"My solution is to dig in and cancel the damned offensive. But since preparations have already begun, and dammit does it have fine points as to why it is necessary, I say we delay it until next month. Preferably, the end of the first week of July."

"Major, that would be too long. We planned to start the offensive on the first days of July.

"But I tell you, Your Majesty, even if you want to speed up the evacuations by launching this early, you can't. Not without proper logistics. Just give me some extra time to sort this quagmire down, then launch the attack."

She turned her head to William. Was she convinced? She didn't know. The plans of the offensive were specifically rushed in the next few days because they needed to get the civilians out of the city quickly.

Waiting any further would mean more time for air strikes and missile strikes. More civilian casualties. And worse, if the enemy launched an attack first, they might be boxed in the city.

Which was why…she was conflicted. Of course, McKenzie had a point. She imagined that it would be extremely difficult to fight without proper supplies. Goddess, it was even cited by Kleist as the main driver of their heavy casualties.

And she didn't want any more young men dead than necessary.

Damn, this headache…

"Actually."

She turned back to Major McKenzie.

"Yes?"

"Can I request something, Your Majesty?"

"Do go on."

"Can I drag both of you to one of our train stations in Portview District?"

Immediately, William almost blocked the proposition.

"What? You do know Portview is being bombed to hell?"

"Major, not right now. And, I want to show both of you the situation over there."

"But Her Majesty's safety-"

But Amelie wanted to see it. If there was anything she vowed since the war began, it was that she wouldn't be an armchair leader anymore.

She wanted to see the situation herself.

"William, don't worry." McKenzie perked up. "Major McKenzie, please. Show me the situation."

"Gladly."

…

Portview District - truthfully, not the most vibrant district of Halia even pre-war. It was on the northern end of the city, and as the name implied, it was close to a port.

Specifically, Portview District was close to the Port of Halia, which was an international shipping hub. With its relative proximity to Rebenslof up north, Portview District became an industrial district of Halia. It was slightly far away from the wealthier districts of the capital, which was why the ride for the three took nearly an hour.

Their vehicle stopped exactly at what appeared to be a massive train station - right next to a bombed-out industrial complex.

When William said this place was bombed hard…I didn't think it was this bad.

"We're here. Do be careful, debris is everywhere around here. And if air raid sirens sound, we're bolting out." McKenzie warned.

She nodded, and William seemed to already know it anyway.

When they left their vehicle, what greeted them was a busy train station. Workers and soldiers busily repaired damages and helped haul heavy containers, all as lines of trucks were filled.

"M-5 Train Station, Your Majesty. This is one of the stops of the trains inbound from Rebenslof. This is just one of our hubs here, where they drop tons of supplies each hour, but this is one of the biggest."

"Biggest? How much do they ship here?"

"Approximately 1000 tons of supplies each day, Your Majesty. That does not include the fact that they also send entire units here on trains."

"It seems that the damage around here is extreme too…"

"Indeed. Missile strikes have devastated this place. See those guys? That's Army Engineering. They keep this bombed-out place functioning. It's also why those Regal Sam batteries are placed over there."

"I see. So that's why we're facing shortages."

They stopped, as he pointed at what appeared to be organized piles of heavy-duty military crates on the side of one of the buildings.

"That…and the fact that not everything is instant. Those things have to be sent to the depots. That takes time. Then we have to sort it out. Then we have to identify units that need specific supplies. Then we send it."

"That's…quite a lot of hoops."

"Major understatement, Your Majesty. Logistics, it's what wins wars, and what loses wars. If we cannot conduct it properly, there will be defeat."

She turned to William, who seemed to be in deep thought as he watched multiple trucks carrying munitions drive away from the station.

"William, what do you say?"

"Me and Kleist already noted the logistical difficulties in our planning. We considered it even. Though, if this is the real situation down here, we definitely would have a complication."

"You sound like you only found out about it right now?"

"Reports, even from subordinate units, aren't always accurate. We may have overestimated our supply situation in our planning."

Amelie looked back at the station, as what appeared to be another train stopped. Immediately, a groan came from McKenzie. The train that arrived carried M20 LSS Panthers, all of them secured in the wagons behind the train.

"And then there's this pain in the asses!"

Amelie turned to him, confused by his reaction.

"Major?"

"These damned experimental mechs. Your Majesty, those things may look cool. Hell, they may even dominate in the cities. But these pieces of…stupidity are nothing but an utter logistical nightmare!"

"...Why is that?"

"See those legs? Those things have too many moving parts. Parts that must be sent here, sorted, and sent to our repair facilities whenever those things break down. And only specialized repair teams can work on them. And these things break down more often than not. Why do we even have these things? Give me 3 goddamned Löwes instead of 1 M20 LSS, and I'd be happier than having these glorified tanks on legs!"

Well, he really does seem to be passionate about logistics. Maybe too much. However, he is a logistics officer after all…

"I understand Major. Is that going to be one of the things I must address?"

He turned back around and he breathed out a sigh.

"No, not really. But essentially, you can only address this by giving me, no, us rear echelon units extra time to gather, stockpile, process, and prepare the supplies and weapons for this counter-offensive."

So all I need to do is an adjustment of the timeframe?

Well, while it was bad, as every moment counted, Amelie supposed that it could be worse.

"So, Your Majesty, what would it be?"

She sighed. A delay was what would happen. No way out of it.

"Major, I shall delay the attack until you have prepared the logistical situation adequately. Please…address these issues quickly. For the Kingdom."

"I assure you, Your Majesty. As long as you give me enough time, I can do the magic."

"Good."