It's crap. With very few exceptions, this sub-genre is utter shite. And, yet, somehow - perhaps due to my own literary delusions of grandeur - I keep reading it.
Every story has a plucky midshipman (or if it's being rebellious and writing about infantry, plucky marine). Every story has incompetent senior officers. Almost every story ends with the protagonists being drenched in the drool of loving crowds of politicians. Spaceships always fight like classical naval ships, with broadsides and running out the guns and all the rest; it's all Hornblower in space (in a nice twist, Feintuch makes the society Hornblower in space, but not the combat, wow!). They use weapons which fire lasers or "grasers" or "plasmic semen acceleration devices" or what have you, but which otherwise function in exactly the same manner as modern (or, indeed, archaic weapons). Alternatively, they're super advanced cruise missiles, but no one has ever thought of using them properly, as artillery (Weber nicely combines these last two, with missiles that, get this, fire lasers!!!) There is always far too much saluting. Quite often they're also drowned in arrays of medals and awards and other general blather.
Bugger all that.
I want to write a military type science fiction book about an utter bastard. I want to write a book where the man skips straight from private to Lt General. I want to write a book were the superiors aren't cowardly craven self-serving traitors or noble heroes, but a realistic mix of both, and where they're all damn well scared of the protagonist. I don't want black and white. I don't want war to give my protagonist cool scars and medals; I want it to dehumanise him and destroy what's left of his cold, black heart. I want shades; starting at about charcoal and going downhill.
When my protagonist wins a battle, I don't want to write hundreds of pages about how much the world loves him (or her). I want the world to look embarassed and go "oh, shit, I hoped that'd kill him" and throw him right back into the fray.
But...that's already happened! Richard Morgan wrote just that with his tales of Takeshi Kovacs....um, no. One, Altered Carbon isn't even military, really; it's a violent film-noir detective tale that just happens to be sci-fi and have an ex-military man as the protagonist. And I've pretty much forgotten Broken Angels (not on par with its predecessor), but, as I recall, it was equally a "search for the alien artifact" tale as a military one.
Wanted: One hard-bitten tough bastard who takes command by sheer force of will, and proceeds to lead an equally bastardly posse around explored space dispensing high velocity shells at all and sundry.
Wanted: One hard-bitten bastard who hates war but knows his duty to his men and knows that it's his only damn talent.
Wanted: An array of weapons systems that do not mirror those used in the 17th-20th centuries.
Wanted: Tactics based around these technologies [...see my tale And They All Died, for an example...a tale about religious fanatics and combat AIs. Unfortunately, due probably to my own writing ineptitude, most people seemed to look for fruity explanations for Phoenix's 'army-of-the-dead' rather than the one I'd been dangling in front of them. Anyway, a synopsis: A military who uses advanced combat suits, but refuses to accept combat AIs as it is "creating life" and against their rather fanatical religious beliefs. A man who wants to win by all means necessary. A few mass graves exhumed. A firmware upgrade, dispensed by a worm/virus. Equals: Combat AIs in damaged but functional suits loaded with dead men. Equals: One scared fucking army facing apparent zombies. Equals: Not much mopping up for the actual marines...try doing that with C20 tech!].
Wanted: One government that owes its existence to aforesaid protagonist, and knows this damn well, and is therefore scared to death of the man...and also mildly infuriated at the complete chaos he leaves in his wake.
Wanted: No goddamn psychic cats, playfull jokes between military leaders, no noble herioc leaders punning away in their mansions, no "socialist" vs "monarchist"/"conservative" wars, no Slow Moving Lasers, no Bug Eyed Monsters, no stellar empires, no long-running tedious series of long-running tedious books.
Oh, and: No stupid childish glorification of war and warriors. War kills people. War is one of humans worse traits. It amazes me how few people get this. "Military history buff", to me, translates to "fucking vulture". Wars are not fought without innocents dying. No flawless plan survives contact with the enemy. War does, however, breed tough bastards, who tend to be nicely neurotic too, which makes for some damn good stories. Take my grandfather, for example. The man died with barbed wire in his wrists. A German guard had slit them for disobedience in a prison camp; a handy med student had sewn them up with the first thing that came to hand...barbed wire. He's dead. The malnutrition he suffered in his late teens and early twenties while imprisoned knocked him off his mortal coil in his fifties. My other grandfather was shot down and fished out've the English channel three times, and he still won't talk about it.
No fucking heroes. No fucking villains. Just human beings being human beings.
If you ever read a novel which opens with a prologue in which the leaders of various 'revolutionary' groups arguing about which political theory should ascend and how high to make the statues of the heroic marines who won the revolution and how many medals they should get, when aforesaid heroic marine walks in and dispenses justice with a flechette weapon in each hand...that's me.



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