This post was inspired by a writing prompt in the Worldbuilding Community - Worldbuilding Prompt #1028 - Cover-ups
Image created by AI in NightCafe Studio
Director Fardimann tapped the back end of his stylus on the desk, and the group of executives and experts gathered around it rapidly went silent.
"I call to order this meeting of the armoured vehicle sub-board of the Szrelnon Corporation. We're here to discuss the combat performance of our latest vehicle, the APV2-MBT3G."
As he spoke, a holographic image filled the centre of the table, slowly rotating. A graphic render of the vehicle in question, the Corporation's latest and greatest model. The APV-MBT3G was based on a variant of the highly successful APV2 hull, so-named because it was described as an All Purpose Vehicle. This was the GEV, or Ground Effect version, making the MBT3G a hover tank. It was a sleek, sexy, deadly-looking war machine, all angled plates and big gun.
The Head of Production, Gil Relflame, was the first to speak. "We're well ahead of production schedules of the MBT3G, and have instituted minor modifications focused on cost-saving, reducing the cost per unit by nearly 75,000 Credits and making it the most profitable item we produce by a respectable margin."
The Director nodded in satisfaction. "Good, good... Doctor Marrim, how are deliveries ?"
Doctor Marrim was the Head of Logistics, and was an acknowledged genius at getting much-needed new equipment to the front line. "Not bad Director, although we've been meeting some resistance from fleet units who tell us they prefer to transport other APV models. Something about the earlier models having more tie-down points and being less likely to break loose in the cargo holds during emergency manoeuvres."
"Well that's not good. Have Legal get onto the ships concerned to tell them they risk court action for breach of contract, that should sort them out."
Marrim nodded and made a note on her dataslate.
The next speaker stood and spoke without invitation from the Director, prompting shocked stares from around the table. It was the only non-company person present; General Fimmarron of the Imperial Marines. His azure blue uniform was trimmed with scarlet and gold, and liberally decorated with medals. These weren't the standard "turning up medals" that deskbound officers were periodically awarded. Every one of them indicated a hard-fought battle or campaign, in some cases leading from the front despite his rank.
"Gentlemen, if I can interrupt this mutual back-patting session, we're supposed to be talking about the combat performance of the MBT3G, not it's profitability or your wanting to sue the transport companies."
The General's face turned grim. "In a word, my lads hate the thing. It's a death trap. Mr Relflame, I assume it was a great cost saving measure to reduce the number of forward antigrav modules from three to two ?"
Relflame nodded, then looked down to avoid meeting the General's eyes. He didn't like the tone the question had been couched in.
"Well let me tell you what happened every time one of the two remaining forward units was hit by enemy fire. The tank would lurch forward and stick it's nose in the ground in an uncontrolled manner. My boys started calling them 'Szrelnon Pinwheels'. That's not all. The shields took too long to warm up, and when the main gun was fired it knocked out the stabilisers for the anti-drone gun directly above it. The drive is too low powered; another cost-saving measure, I guess, but it makes it sluggish uphill and an easy target. It's a piece of crap, and we don't want any more of them."
Every face around the table bore a look of shock.
After a few seconds, Director Fardimann took the situation in hand. "General," he began, in a voice that would make a used flitter salesman proud. "This is the most advanced vehicle we've produced to date. It's bound to have one or two minor teething problems, but I'm sure we can iron them out over time. But you have to understand that the production process is irreversible..."
His sales pitch was interrupted by the General. Fimarron's face was flushed with anger. "No. I understand all too well. Now let me tell you what you don't understand. We've received nearly five thousand of these useless machines. More than half have been lost already, to combat and mechanical unreliability. Two battalions have mutinied rather than take them into battle. That's how bad it is."
"But we've already signed contracts for indefinite series production..." Relflame's voice was faint, confused.
"Series production ! Let me tell you about series production ! I've submitted my report to Imperial General Headquarters, but more to the point if you don't shut the production lines down for good right now, I've instructed two of my battle groups to subject the factory world making them to all-out orbital bombardment. If I get cashiered because of it, I don't care, because I'll have saved the lives of untold Imperial soldiers."
Fardimann sent a note from his dataslate, then cleared his throat.
"General, you don't need to do that. I've just instructed the production lines to stop and await re-tooling. But I'll need your help. It would have a terrible impact on our share price if we admit the programme wasn't as successful as we'd hoped. So how about a compromise."
"We'll repurpose the hulls for use making APV2-SPG self-propelled guns; the lack of a forward antigrav module shouldn't be so much of a problem that far behind the lines. The turrets can be used on the older MBT2 model, retrofitted with the previous control systems. We'll issue a press release saying that the vehicle was so good that ASP commandeered them all for internal policing duties, much to the disappointment of frontline troops who would have to carry on making do with MBT2's."
He grinned, and effect that made his already pointed features appear reminiscent of a particularly well-fed shark.
"Oh, and of course you'll get a handsome bonus of a couple of million Szrelnon shares for not saying anything about this meeting, General. It never happened."