The Textbook SNAFU
On 3 October 267AU eight of the twelve over-strength Codexian fleets were launched into the depths of Raumen territory, in order to halt the considerable progress being made by the Hin'in. The campaign was named 'Plan XVIII', and it was to be humanity's single greatest military undertaking to date. More than three thousand Codexian vessels were to take part in a battle that would define a generation. And, at first, everything seemed to be going exactly right. The Hin'in were too caught up in trying to flatten the remaining Raumen strongholds; too committed across a broad swath of space removed from Plan XVIII's main targets. As a result, the initial battles were one-sided massacres. Both sides used wyrmhole propulsion systems, so there was little disparity there - but the humans concentrated great masses of ships against their enemy, and sent him reeling.
Dozens of small engagements were decisively resolved very agreeably. Soon, more than a hundred Hin vessels were lifeless husks decorating the spacelanes, at negligible costs to the humans. But there were signs, even then, that this would be no 'Operation Bear Tamer' Mk II. To be more specific, the humanoid aliens had an uncanny ability to co-ordinate on their forces on the battlefield. Whereas Codexian formations relied on a complex network of laser/maser comms and comm-drones, the aliens could effortlessly shuffle around their forces within systems. While the available formations were small and limited - as was the case at the onset of the campaign - the effect was far less noticeable. However, once the Codexians encountered strong Hin'in forces for the first time, as they did at Helios, everything changed. Though their ships were only slightly faster in-system (and had marginally more powerful wyrmhole drives), it was to be the telepathic ability of their senior leadership that would give the advantage to the aliens.
Helios marked a turning point. It was a drubbing. A uniquely epic, tragic drubbing. An entire human fleet fought and died at Helios. 'The Fall of the 11th' (as the defeat would come to be known) was endlessly reflected upon both in history and Codexian popular culture, thereafter. In military science, too, it was to become timeless - as a classic example of strategic overextension and the logical conclusion of an engagement with an enemy that could co-ordinate formations with such incredible efficacy. Once the Hin'in had gauged human tactics and the sensor ranges of their reconnaissance/picket vessels, they were able to combat the humans on their own terms. Though Codexian cloaking systems were supposed to be a game-changer, they did not fool any larger body of Hin forces for long. Stripped of their advantages (except in raw numbers), the Codexians saw themselves transformed from hunter to prey.
The campaign, however, was not an irrevocable disaster, at that point. Though the Battle of Helios (fought on 28 October 267AU) took the wind out of its sails, it remained a closely contested affair. Destructive encounters raged across the frontier, as human and Hin grappled for supremacy, and the Raumeni interjected where they could. Fortunately, time and experience showed that the Hin'in telepathic ability was not beyond the ken. It was a useful tool for communication, command and control. It even gave the Hin'in some limited sensory ability, when large numbers of their most sensitive leaders could utilize their powers to the same ends. But it was not a war-winner, in and of itself. As the war stretched on into November and December, casualties mounted, but human commanders adapted to Hin tactics well, and were able to score a few more smaller victories.
Yet, to their chagrin, it was to be the Hin'in who would once again draw more blood, when a Hin'in armada of some three hundred vessels surprised the elite and lavishly equipped 2nd Fleet in Keparo. The unlucky formation was badly mauled, losing upwards of fifty percent of its strength in only eight hours of fighting. Twenty-six thousand men and women perished in that short span of time. After Keparo there were few large engagements. In fact, between December 267AU and May 268AU casualties actually rose. But it was more due to a steady stream of bloody skirmishing and horrifying attrition on the 'frontline' than any single engagement. Almost a thousand vessels had been lost since the start of the campaign. Three hundred replacements had arrived, leaving the combined Codexian fleet noticeably weaker. Corresponding figures for the Hin'in cannot be certain, especially as they retained several key battle-sites, having triumphed over their human foes. Intelligence estimates put the number of Hin'in losses at somewhere around five hundred vessels of all types. It was not a favourable exchange ratio, in any case. Codexia's commanders were loathe to continue the campaign in 268AU. Any serious fighting was going to further sap the already badly depleted strength of the Codexian Navy - perhaps pushing it past the breaking point.
On the home-front, the situation was as yet calm. Though there were protests in the streets, these were largely peaceful. If the war continues to go badly, however, this could change in a disastrous instant. Codexia's leadership is flummoxed. How do we proceed?
Do you... raise war production and put further strain on your economy and domestic situation? The Hin'in bleed, and we can bleed them to death if we have the willpower!
OR
Do you... open negotiations for a settlement, in secret? At this point, a diplomatic outcome will be immensely dissatisfying (due to the concessions that would have to be made), but surely preferable to losing the war outright.
OR
Do you... continue fighting, but do so defensively? This will lower the need to strain the economy or Codexian society any further, casualties will likely remain steady (but manageable) and the Hin'in might be inclined to offer terms, once they see you are committed.
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And yes, in retrospect, this was a pretty epic update (longest to date!).