clarification, training, combat, pirate-hunting, negotiation, and God-only-knows what all else. Even by the standards of headquarters military-legalese, these orders make no sense, and the further I dig into this mountain of verbiage and obfuscation, the less order and intelligence it shows.
“I officially have absolutely no idea what the hell we are supposed to do or what the priorities are, what assets we have, what the budget is, where we go, or what sort of timeline we have. I’m not even sure who you report to! 136 sections, 81 appendices, and at least a half dozen circular references–”
Lag cuts her off cheerfully. “Excellent!”
“What?! … Sir?”
“Could you find something in these orders to justify just about anything?”
“Well, yes,” Kat responds cautiously. “Likely there’s something, somewhere in here, that could, in theory, support anything short of multi-system genocide if you torture definitions and phrases hard enough.”
“And is there anything in there that prohibits action?”
“Narrowly read, it’s a straightjacket that makes us ask permission in triplicate to breathe.”
“So if we screw up, we get hung out to dry for disobeying orders?”
“Yes.”
“And anything we do that works out, we could justify?”
“… Yes?”
Lag grins. Kat nods slowly, beginning to catch on.
“So, let’s not screw things up, and see what we can do!” he says. “Let’s get started: Section 23 says we need to cut our core budget by 20%. That’s about the same as the maintenance section, I believe. Go find Chief Stenson, tell him he and his entire section are fired, and send him in here.”
Kat is appalled. “You want … me … to fire …”
“Yes,” Lag says cheerfully. “He should be out training some guys on the J-6’s.”
“Fired.”
“Absolutely.”
Kat stares at Lag in disbelief. Then she sets her face in a scowl, stands, salutes, makes an angry about-face, and stomps out. Lag smiles and returns to his e-reader.
“Fired again, eh?” says Chief Henery Stenson, smiling.
“Indeed. What’s the local talent like?”
“What, no vacation?”
Lag shakes his head. Stenson shrugs and flops into a chair. He’s in his late forties, trim and muscular, short-cropped graying hair and a mustache, wearing stained and well-worn cammies with rolled-up sleeves, and of course a tool belt.
“Eh, not bad,” Stenson says. “Local companies are a mixed lot, some good individuals, not many that could pass age, physical, or background as recruits, though.”
Kat, still standing in the doorway, is confused. “I thought he was fired?”
Lag ignores her. “How’s your section?”
“So-so. Usual mix. Only a handful of stand-outs.”
“Kat, how long to establish a local corporation?” Lag asks.
“Start a corp?”
Stenson grins at her confusion. Lag waits patiently for an answer.
“Uh. Well. An hour or so to find a location, if requirements aren’t too demanding, and another hour to fill out the forms and file. Pretty simple here, I think, depending on the type. But what does that have to do with–”
Lag cuts her off: “Section 30 says we must, quote, ‘support and utilize local companies where possible,’ unquote. Please work with Mr. Stenson to identify a suitable nearby location for Stenson’s Heavy Equipment Repair Company , file the necessary forms for it and an associated apprenticeship program, transfer employment for the dozen or so platoon members he wants to keep, expedite the background checks for any locals he wants to hire and train, and select Stenson’s HERC as the local contractor of choice for needed support services for our unit, as stipulated in section 118.
“I’m sure that when we leave, we’ll also be able to achieve our recruitment goal of 15% laid out in Section 55, too, because we can take them with us. Oh, and while you are looking at real estate, see if you can locate a suitable place for housing an infantry company of recruit
“I officially have absolutely no idea what the hell we are supposed to do or what the priorities are, what assets we have, what the budget is, where we go, or what sort of timeline we have. I’m not even sure who you report to! 136 sections, 81 appendices, and at least a half dozen circular references–”
Lag cuts her off cheerfully. “Excellent!”
“What?! … Sir?”
“Could you find something in these orders to justify just about anything?”
“Well, yes,” Kat responds cautiously. “Likely there’s something, somewhere in here, that could, in theory, support anything short of multi-system genocide if you torture definitions and phrases hard enough.”
“And is there anything in there that prohibits action?”
“Narrowly read, it’s a straightjacket that makes us ask permission in triplicate to breathe.”
“So if we screw up, we get hung out to dry for disobeying orders?”
“Yes.”
“And anything we do that works out, we could justify?”
“… Yes?”
Lag grins. Kat nods slowly, beginning to catch on.
“So, let’s not screw things up, and see what we can do!” he says. “Let’s get started: Section 23 says we need to cut our core budget by 20%. That’s about the same as the maintenance section, I believe. Go find Chief Stenson, tell him he and his entire section are fired, and send him in here.”
Kat is appalled. “You want … me … to fire …”
“Yes,” Lag says cheerfully. “He should be out training some guys on the J-6’s.”
“Fired.”
“Absolutely.”
Kat stares at Lag in disbelief. Then she sets her face in a scowl, stands, salutes, makes an angry about-face, and stomps out. Lag smiles and returns to his e-reader.
“Fired again, eh?” says Chief Henery Stenson, smiling.
“Indeed. What’s the local talent like?”
“What, no vacation?”
Lag shakes his head. Stenson shrugs and flops into a chair. He’s in his late forties, trim and muscular, short-cropped graying hair and a mustache, wearing stained and well-worn cammies with rolled-up sleeves, and of course a tool belt.
“Eh, not bad,” Stenson says. “Local companies are a mixed lot, some good individuals, not many that could pass age, physical, or background as recruits, though.”
Kat, still standing in the doorway, is confused. “I thought he was fired?”
Lag ignores her. “How’s your section?”
“So-so. Usual mix. Only a handful of stand-outs.”
“Kat, how long to establish a local corporation?” Lag asks.
“Start a corp?”
Stenson grins at her confusion. Lag waits patiently for an answer.
“Uh. Well. An hour or so to find a location, if requirements aren’t too demanding, and another hour to fill out the forms and file. Pretty simple here, I think, depending on the type. But what does that have to do with–”
Lag cuts her off: “Section 30 says we must, quote, ‘support and utilize local companies where possible,’ unquote. Please work with Mr. Stenson to identify a suitable nearby location for Stenson’s Heavy Equipment Repair Company , file the necessary forms for it and an associated apprenticeship program, transfer employment for the dozen or so platoon members he wants to keep, expedite the background checks for any locals he wants to hire and train, and select Stenson’s HERC as the local contractor of choice for needed support services for our unit, as stipulated in section 118.
“I’m sure that when we leave, we’ll also be able to achieve our recruitment goal of 15% laid out in Section 55, too, because we can take them with us. Oh, and while you are looking at real estate, see if you can locate a suitable place for housing an infantry company of recruit
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