Ficlets

Of arms and the man I sing...

There were a number of things we learned during the first ten years of war.

First: Weapons of mass destruction are a Bad Idea. Especially if you intend to hold territory in the areas in which you used them.

Second: Any vehicle capable of achieving orbital velocity can be used to drop kinetic weapons on people. Civilian spaceflight is thus also a Bad Idea.

Third: If all battles in space are fought by robots, whichever side has a bigger industrial base wins.

Now, twenty years into the war, we had finally gotten these truths drilled into our heads the hard way, and had adapted accordingly.

Unfortunately, our enemies have learned these lessons as well. Now, officially, we have a stalemate. Unofficially, we’re still slowly losing.

It’s not that surprising, really. Thirty billion people versus about eighty billion, all told, but that hardly matters. We have twenty-eight planets, they have forty-one. Six of ours are major industrial centers, eleven of theirs are.

But we’ll win.

Why? A secret weapon.

Me.

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