Interdictor Ship
The standard operating procedure against a primitive forest-dwelling enemy is to retreat to orbit and then bombard the planet until there isn’t a forest anymore. However, the only reason the Galactic Empire was in the Alpha Centauri A system in the first place was because of the fragile mineral resources underneath that forest. Dropping tungsten rods at hypersonic speeds would risk destroying the only thing of value on Pandora.
Alien aborigines armed with bows and arrows damaged Imperial legitimacy across the galaxy. It was like losing a battle to Ewoks.
The Emperor’s solution had been to hire an Ewok.
Mitth’raw’nuruodo was a dwarf by Na’vi standards, but the blue alien stood a head above most humans. Originally hired as a translator, the Imperials on Pandora quickly noticed that the only patrols who came back alive were those that followed Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s advice. Pretty soon, the moon was pacified and Mitth’raw’nuruodo was its de facto king.
Nobody liked the idea of an alien being in control of such a strategically-valuable moon. To get rid of him, they promoted Mitth’raw’nuruodo to Admiral. In space, many parsecs away from Pandora, the humans under Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s command couldn’t pronounce “Mitth’raw’nuruodo”.
That was fine, thought Mitth’raw’nuruodo. Everyone just called him “Thrawn”.
Amateurs talk strategy. Professionals talk logistics.
The Imperial Navy Defense Acquisitions Board (INDAB) originally met on Coruscant, but was moved to the Life Star for security reasons. Idle chitchat usually preceded the important negotiations.
“What I don’t get is why we call it the ‘Life Star’,” said Chief Bast, “This thing blows up planets. Shouldn’t it be called the ‘Death Star’?”
“Do you want us to look like the bad guys?” said General Tagge, “The Department of Defense isn’t called the ‘Department of War’. The Department of Justice isn’t called the ‘Department of Incarceration’. The Department of Education isn’t called the ‘Department of Child Indoctrination’. Calling this megastructure the ‘Life Star’ buys us legitimacy for the low, low price of zero Galactic Credits.”
“But won’t people call us out on our Bantha fodder when we call things the opposite of what they really are?” said Chief Bast.
“Humans don’t. Aliens sometimes make a fuss about it,” General Tagge said, “No offense, Admiral.”
“None taken,” said Thrawn.
“Speaking of which, I’ve read your recent report,” said General Tagge. He projected the Aurebesh symbols where everyone could see, “I forwarded the report to everyone here, but since nobody (except me) ever reads their meeting briefings, why don’t you give us the quick summary.”
“Of course,” Thrawn stood up, “I have two theses. First of all, the Life Star is a tremendous waste of credits. This weapon’s only possible use is against a peer adversary or a super-peer adversary. We control two thirds of the galaxy. We have no peer or super-peer adversaries. The Emperor’s pet project consumes massive resources while doing nothing to advance our military objectives.”
“The Life Star killed all the Rebel scum on Alderaan,” said Grand Moff Tarkin.
“I have always considered you a rational agent,” said Thrawn, “I am very curious how you, the commander of the Life Star, came to the conclusion that destroying Alderaan was the best way of advancing Imperial interests.”
“If you have a problem with my methods then you can bring it to me in private,” said Tarkin, “Your second thesis is the topic I hoped to discuss.”
Thrawn pressed a button and the Aurebesh words were replaced with different Aurebesh words. They continued to go unread. “Rebel terrorists have recently equipped their starfighters with hyperdrives. They can strike anywhere, and will choose the weakest targets. Our current grand strategy is built around Star Destroyers. There are 25,000 Imperial-Class Star Destroyers in service. We control approximately 1.5 million systems. 98% of our systems have no Star Destroyer present.”
“Obviously we must increase the Imperial Navy’s budget by 50×,” said Tagge.
“First of all, mind your rounding errors,” said Thrawn, “We’d need to increase the Imperial Navy’s budget by 60×. But never mind that. The point is our current strategy is totally infeasible.”
“Are you implying that we should divide our force into smaller units?” said Tarkin, “Because then we’d be spread too thin. The Rebels may not be able to destroy an Imperial-Class Star Destroyer, but if they concentrate their forces they might be able to destroy one sixtieth of a Star Destroyer.”
Thrawn locked eyes with Tarkin. “That’s not what I meant at all,” Thrawn said, “If we could block hyperspace travel―”
“Stop,” said Tarkin, “Interdictor Ships are science fiction. You will not waste our time with such magical fantasies.”
“But―” said Thrawn.
“I am a busy person. If that is all then this meeting is adjourned. Everyone out,” said Tarkin. “Not you,” he hastily added to Thrawn, “I must reprimand you for your fantastical incompetence.”
Then they were two: The admiral and the grand moff. They took a minute to regain their composure.
“Oops,” said Thrawn.
Tarkin sighed. “Let’s start from the beginning.”
“Alright,” said Thrawn. He chose his words carefully, “I had assumed the Imperial Navy was grossly incompetent.”
“During a war, it often feels like the one thing not in short supply is idiots,” said Tarkin, “But be skeptical. Some of us are merely taking the fall for others’ idiocy. Who told you about Interdictor Ships?”
“You did,” said Thrawn, “Often when I need something, I assume it exists and then go looking for it. This is how I found out about the existence of Stealth Ships, for example.”
“You are lucky I am cleared to know about Stealth Ships,” said Tarkin.
“It wasn’t luck,” said Thrawn.
“I know. I am just pretending to be an idiot,” said Tarkin, “Human humor.”
“Sorry. Sometimes these conversations go over my head,” said Thrawn. Thrawn sat down to allow Tarkin to be taller than him. Tarkin followed suit. “Let’s start over. I want a vessel that can interdict Rebel spaceships by disabling their hyperdrives. Do Interdictor Ships exist?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny whether an Interdictor Field is theoretically possible, much less whether one exists,” said Tarkin, sarcastically.
“You have thoroughly succeeded in concealing information from me,” said Thrawn, equally sarcastic, “I have learned absolutely nothing from you. I remain totally in the dark. This is quite frustrating.”
“Good,” said Tarkin, “All computer systems can be hacked, even those carrying the secretest of secrets. Security by obscurity is not security, but it is better than nothing. The problem of ‘not security’ is that it is too easy for inquisitive minds like your to stumble upon information they are not authorized to know. It would be an egregious lapse of procedure for you to accidently stumble upon information you are not authorized to know. I am sure you feel the same. I therefore recommend you stay away from Docking Bay 667.”
“I am sorry for inconveniencing you,” said Thrawn, “I am sure that my access to sensitive information could put you in hot water. I will make sure that my indiscretions do not produce political blowback upstream of your reputation.”
“I appreciate that,” said Tarkin.
“Therefore, worry not. If I need authorization to do something unusual, I will not implicate you,” Thrawn left the conference room. “I’ll go directly to Lord Vader.”
“Wait. What?” said Tarkin to the empty room.
Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo. Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo.
In Thrawn’s experience there are three ingredients to greatness:
Intelligence
Intrinsic motivation
Audacity
If you are intelligent and intrinsically-motivated, then audacity is what winnows the outrageously successful people from the merely talented. If you go up to someone powerful and ask for something, then there’s a 60% chance you lose nothing and a 1% chance you win big. (Na’vi probabilities add up to less than 100% to account for unknown unknowns.)
Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo. Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo.
After all, it’s not like your social superiors will murder you just for annoying them.
Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo. Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo.
Well, the Na’vi don’t. Thrawn wasn’t sure how monkey politics works.
Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo. Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo.
The most important thing to get right is that you ask for the right resource. You need to communicate “I will do this audacious thing with or without your help. If you provide me with minimal assistance then I will accomplish my objective faster and I will remember you fondly after I rise to power.” But you can’t say it because nobody will believe you. You have to imply it.
Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo. Kshhhhhhh. Kuuuuuuo.
That’s what Thrawn was thinking. His mouth had been on autopilot. “…Anyway, that is the situation. Rebel forces can strike at us with impunity by attacking where we are weak and then escaping to hyperspace before we can respond. They are already doing this. That is why I want an Interdictor Ship. To ambush and destroy them,” Thrawn finished.
Vader took his time in responding, as he took his time in everything. (Except, sometimes, combat.) Vader replied slowly, enunciating each word. “Interdictor Ships are science fiction,” said Vader.
Thrawn thought carefully before responding. “There is an unregistered frigate in Docking Bay 667. It is going unused. May I add it to my strike force?”
A strange sound came from Vader’s life support system. Is he laughing? thought Thrawn, I have a bad feeling about this.
“It is yours,” said Vader.
That was too easy. Thrawn didn’t know what had happened, but he knew something was amiss. He got away as fast as he could, practically running out of Vader’s meditation chamber.
A few hours later, in Hangar Bay 667, Thrawn discovered his error.
The ship was like nothing Thrawn (or his crew) had ever seen. Most combat ships are built around their weapons and thrusters. Crew are crammed into the gaps between them. This ship’s shape was dominated by a giant rotatable toroid that housed nothing of importance. The ship contained no visible weapons, and it had extra thrusters shaped like those of a missile. Thrawn could speak freely, because the only people in the hangar bay were Thrawn and his most trusted officers.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Specialist Officer Vanto. He and his team had finished examining the bizarre prototype spaceship, “It’s got most of the things you’d expect on a ship of its size―shields, life support, repulsors, coffee dispenser. It’s got a little more radiation shielding than usual, but whatever. But it’s also got a crude set of chemical thrusters I’ve never seen attached to a ship for humans―I mean biologicals. And it’s got no artificial gravity at all.”
Chief Engineer Levers nodded. “You know how hyperdrives fail when they encounter a gravity well’s tidal forces? My theory is that an Interdictor Field creates an artificial gravity well. I bet that’s what the centrifugal habitat is for. The Interdictor Field’s artificial gravity wreaks such havoc with regular gravity generators that they have to use centrifugal gravity instead. Fascinating.”
Thrawn cleared his throat. (He didn’t have to. It was another emote he copied from humans.) “What about the Interdictor Field? Where is it? What does it look like? How big is it? How does it work?”
Levers and Vanto looked at each other. Then, embarrassed, Vanto said, “We…can’t find it. This is not an Interdictor Ship.”
What.
“Levers has a theory, if you’d like to hear it,” said Vanto.
Thrawn screwed up his face into something professional and militaristic, then nodded at Levers.
Levers said, “You’re probably going to say this is insane, but I trust you, Admiral, so I’m going to tell you what I truly believe.”
Vanto nodded to Levers too. “Speak your mind.”
“I believe this is an Interdictor Interdictor Ship,” said Levers, “I believe its purpose is to hunt Rebel Interdictor Ships.”
“Dismissed,” said Thrawn.
Oh, Thrawn is a Navi. I somehow got it into my head on first pass that he was an Ewok. Its going to take time to shift that mental image of him.
(Note for confused readers: given that he uses the exact name ‘Interdictor’, lsusr is surely well-aware that interdictors have been a common and well-known part of the Star Wars Expanded Universe for 35 years, and this is another anti-memetic fic.)
I think the way tenses are handled in the early part of this section is distractingly weird. (I can’t tell how petty I’m being here.) (I’d be inclined to fix the problem by italicizing the parts Thrawn is thinking, and changing “Thrawn wasn’t” to “I’m not”.)
. . . what happens in the remaining 39%?
Also (outrageously pedantic stylistic point even by my standards incoming) it’s strange to follow up “60% chance” with “a 1% chance”: it should either be “n% chance” both times or “a n% chance” both times.
This is great editing feedback. Thank you. I have made a change to my use of italics that makes the typography a little less confusing.
I’ve added a note to explain why the probabilities add up to less than 100%.
As for your last pedantic stylistic point: you are completely correct. I have fixed it. Thanks.
This feels like a typo, maybe “You are lucky I am cleared..”?
It was a typo. Fixed. Thanks.
I think I found another typo
I do not see a typo there. How do you think it should have been written?
My guess was that Valdes is hypercorrecting the plural of ‘thesis’, ‘theses’, as a typo for ‘these’, with some additional error like omitting an additional word such as ‘of’ (for ‘I have two of these’). ‘Theses’ is admittedly a fairly unusual word outside academia which sure looks like a typo. It is a word I would avoid outside of an academic context where the pluralization is clear like ‘PhD theses’, because it looks so much like a typo, and indeed, checking Gwern.net, I spot one typo of it which wasn’t caught by spellcheck...