Hawk Flight (Flight of the Hawk Book 3)

by Robert Little

  Shin Ho replied, “We have reports of the destruction by the Défiance of a second generation destroyer, one reportedly scrapped forty years ago; thus the possibility exists that other civil war era warships are still operational. Additionally, I have concluded that Nasser has either acquired or indirectly controls virtually all the elements necessary to clandestinely produce third or possibly even fourth generation warships. It already has several hundred shuttles in its’ system under either direct ownership or contract.”

  The specialist asked, sharply, “Where did you obtain that information? It was not included in any of our briefings.”

  Captain Adamczyk shifted comfortably in his seat, but his eyes were bright with interest. Shin Ho replied, “I’ve made extensive use of external resources, as well as commercial and financial data from several systems, including Nasser and Elyse.”

  Captain Adamczyk raised a hand to halt the by now perturbed specialist from asking any additional questions, “Lieutenant Lee, what information did you glean from Nasser?” His face was expressionless.

  Shin Ho replied, “Sir, Nasser publishes a great deal of commercial and financial information. I have come to believe that some of that data is either incomplete or something else, possibly doctored. There are numerous instances where the financial sector’s reports don’t match up with actual commercial transactions, including trades, contracts, loans, construction and the like. It appears that the system deliberately releases large volumes of data, with the result that it is very difficult to find anything. I believe, however, that Nasser is obscuring or hiding a small but important amount of capacity. The Navy has apparently reached the same conclusion, but has been unable to find even one clandestine production facility within the system.”

  The intelligence specialist jumped in ahead of his captain’s possible next question, “If that is so, then why the assumption that the system actually has a military production capacity?”

  Shin Ho simply said, “If I am correct and Nasser does have a such a capacity, and it hasn’t been found in the system, it must therefore either be well hidden or located elsewhere.”

  The intelligence specialist was now clearly agitated, but the captain held up his hand and said, “Commander, I haven’t provided Lt. Lee with any proscribed intelligence. His conclusions are not only logical, they are shared by your own people. So, Lt. Lee, continuing with your analysis, what about an assault?” Shin Ho almost smiled – his captain had just verified his conclusions.

  Shin Ho continued, “Sir, using your parameters, which are that we would be attacked by four second generation destroyers plus ten missile boats, and that the Los Angeles would be defending two carriers, there exists a roughly seventy plus percent probability that the Los Angeles would be unable to prevent the destruction of both ships, and should that happen, she could herself then come under attack, although I place that likelihood at fifteen to twenty percent.”

  Captain Adamczyk asked, “How would this attack unfold?” Shin Ho replied, “Sir, in the latter stages of the civil war, I found several instances of a small attacking force of fighters proceeding on a ballistic course deep into superior enemy defenses, launching missiles at relatively close range and sweeping back out before the defenses could take them under fire. I would utilize the missile boats in this fashion and attack the two carriers at close range. Assuming this to be successful, I would then attack the Los Angeles with the destroyers. The success of this portion of the attack would depend on how many fighters were on station and able to reach missile range of the destroyers, and also assumes that the fighters were armed with missiles.”

  Captain Adamczyk turned to his other officers and said, “The floor is open.”

  The executive officer asked, “How would these hypothetical ships escape detection?” She didn’t appear to be hostile; in fact, she seemed remarkably unsurprised with his conclusions, another clue. He answered, “Sir, we are not at war, we are not conducting anything close to wartime patrols, we have no operational sensor platforms and at any particular time, we have no more than four fighters out beyond two hundred thousand kilometers from the carriers. If Nasser, or any other system, chose to attack our forces, and utilized this form of attack, I believe it unlikely that we would detect their craft until they launched. Ten missile boats can launch approximately one hundred light missiles. One or two missile hits would be sufficient to either put a carrier out of commission or destroy it outright, taking with it the majority of it’s single most effective weapon, it’s fighters.”

  Captain Adamczyk looked grim, yet oddly enough, not angry at his second most junior officer. Rather, his focus seemed to be on his other personnel, the ones who didn’t seem to be asking many questions.

  The intelligence specialist asked, “Captain, after this briefing, I wish to speak privately to Lt. Lee.” The captain waved his hand, “Commander, if a newly minted JG can find this information within two days of a request from his captain, how can you possibly hope that others haven’t come to the same ugly conclusion? Request denied. Now, moving on, we’ve just learned that we are dead. Any suggestions Lt. Lee?”

  Shin Ho hesitated. He was far and away the most junior officer in the space, and in the last ten minutes his conceptions about naval preparedness had just taken a big hit. He took a small breath and said, “Sir, I’d move the flag to the Los Angeles, I’d greatly increase fighter patrols, I’d utilize sensor platforms to plug up the holes in our patrols, possibly deliberately creating other holes, and I’d conduct extensive simulations to develop tactics and improve our responses. I’d ensure that every fighter was loaded out with the maximum number of missiles, I’d have every single missile in inventory recertified, and I’d keep the few Hawks we have available on five minute alert, with missiles loaded and their crews brought up to speed on whatever tactics we developed.”

  The captain began ticking off the fingers of his hand, “First, the Los Angeles is not going to assume control of the two carriers; second, the Los Angeles is not going to be able to dictate how or how extensively those two rust buckets actually utilize their fighters; and third, we are not going to get permission to expend even one of those sensor platforms. So, that out of the way, what would you do?”

  Shin Ho shifted on his feet, thinking rapidly, “Sir, I’d put my own maintenance people to work on the Los Angeles’ missile handling equipment. Um, one launcher. I’d run heavy missiles through it until something broke, fix it and continue until I was certain it could handle the load. I’d then duplicate those repairs on the other three, one at a time. I’d inspect and test every single energy mount, I’d run continuous training exercises until my people either learned how to respond or mutinied. I would assume that we would have minimal warning of an attack, that the initial and primary focus would be against the two carriers, and I’d request that those two plus their destroyers conduct joint exercises with us, especially as that is the reason we are here.”

  The captain startled everyone by abruptly coming to his feet. He pointed a finger at Shin Ho, “Lieutenant, you are ordered to report to Lt. Cdr. Dietz. She will provide you with a missile room, her choice which one. You have twelve hours to identify the problems with the handling equipment, and recommend fixes. If I do not have a report on my desk prior to the expiration of twelve hours, you may consider yourself on report. You are dismissed. Everyone else, remain seated.”

  Shin Ho saluted, and left the bridge. As he moved aft and down, he speculated that he’d just made any number of enemies. His prior research seemed to indicate that he probably already had one or more, he just didn’t know who or where, although they probably spoke Egyptian Arabic.

  Chapter 15

  Eleven hours and thirty-seven minutes later, Lt. Junior Grade Lee presented himself before Captain Adamczyk, who was in CIC. Shin Ho waited to be recognized, saluted and held out a chip. The captain waved his hand, “Give me the bad news.”

  Shin Ho said, “Sir, there are three supports that need to be strengthened or rep
laced. We have the resources on board ship to fabricate them. This chip includes the specifications for the struts, the material required and the time we’d need to make the changes and test the system.”

  The captain finally took the chip, but asked, “How long?” Shin Ho said, “Six hours total per room. Two for the work, four for the tests.”

  The captain turned to face Shin Ho, “Six hours total? That’s it?” Shin Ho said, “Yes sir. We ran a dummy missile through the complete cycle from armored storage to the launch position. As soon as we broke and identified the first cracked support, we used jacks to support it and continued. After finding the second support, we identified a third possible weak link, and after another nineteen cycles, that failed as well. I’ve got a crew working on the braces, which both chiefs swear are up to the repeated and sustained loads heavy missiles impose on the system. We’ve run the equivalent of one hundred missiles through the system without finding any additional problems.”

  The captain turned and pointed at a hatch leading to his quarters. He stormed through it and ordered Shin Ho to secure it.

  As soon as they were alone the captain inserted Shin Ho’s chip into a reader and carefully examined the diagrams and visuals that appeared. He turned to his very junior officer and demanded, “You are confident that this is all that is required? You’re willing to bet your life on these braces?”

  Shin Ho knew that question was going to get asked, and had already asked the two chief’s the same question. The senior man told him, “Sir, we told the contractor we could fix it on our own, but were told not to touch anything.”

  Shin Ho relayed what he’d been told, and listened in undisguised awe as the captain burst into a spectacular and lengthy string of swear words, only some of them English or understandable, at least to him. On the spot, he decided that this was another valuable skill, one he had to acquire.

  The captain turned his head and said into the air, “Angel.” A computerized female voice responded, “Sir?” He barked, “I need Commander Dietz, senior chief Saenz and master chief Fong. My quarters, five minutes. Angel out.”

  He turned to Shin Ho, “When you are not on watch, I want you in CIC. I want you to develop tactics that won’t get us the fuck killed. I’ve got the exec working on the same problem, but I’m hoping you will come up with something she doesn’t think of. I do not want you to discuss this with anyone. I do not want you to discuss the fucking supports with anyone. If God taps you on the shoulder, you are to tell Him he has the wrong person, understood?”

  Shin Ho braced to attention and said, “Yes sir.” The captain looked at him for a brief moment and cracked a smile, “Lieutenant, do you believe in God?” Shin Ho answered, “Yes sir.” The captain smiled, “Let’s hope He believes in you. Dismissed.”

  Chapter 16

  Lt. Junior Grade Alexi Tretiakov, the federal destroyer Tillotson

  The Tillotson maneuvered into position ahead of the Bon Homme Richard, which was drifting toward the presumed position of the Vikramaditya and her escorts. Alexi was monitoring the capacitor banks as the ship dumped as much excess heat as possible prior to entering the expected detection zone of the Vickie’s fighters.

  Thanks to some timely information provided by the Défiance, Alexi had been given permission to purge and clean the radiators, one at a time. It had turned out to be a terribly old-fashioned job, requiring the fabrication of hoses and fittings to transfer the mildly caustic fluids into flexible bladders, then they had to flush the radiators, pressure test them, filter the fluids of foreign particles, return the coolant, pressure test and finally put them back into the loop. This one process, while messy and labor-intensive, raised the ship’s ability to generate power back up to ninety-four percent of design. Alexi got little sleep during the process, but he now had an intimate knowledge of the power plant. He also had one uniform that wasn’t badly stained; this despite the fact that the contractor that designed and fabricated those uniforms swore on a stack of legal briefs that nothing found on a military warship could stain them.

  He had eagerly developed some additional modifications to the load balancing cabinet. He’d turned up a couple of ancient tricks that partially revived their Zerohm cabling. According to reports, it was a temporary fix, but it had again measurably improved their ability to power the drive, jump system and energy weapons. After receiving permission to perform the process on a discarded length of cabling, he’d carefully measured its’ impedance, performed the doping process and retested. The cable tested as usable.

  His crew had slowly moved through the ship, performing the process one cable at a time. They were roughly forty percent along in the process when they had to suspend the work. They’d already encountered several cables that were seriously outside operating parameters, and they’d emptied their stores of spares.

  Now, he was monitoring the scrupulously clean station while his enlisted donned their environmental suits. His chief took his place and he slipped into his own suit.

  The ship went to general quarters and Lt. Cdr. Sinclair appeared. He sat at the console and began reviewing status reports. He commed his JG and asked him about the one red flagged item. Alexi told him, “Sir, we’ve finished the repair and the system is just a few moments from clearing the fault.”

  As he spoke, the flag disappeared. Cdr. Sinclair almost laughed, “Anything I should worry about?” Alexi replied, “No sir. Our coolant temp is down to minus seventy, giving us approximately seventeen minutes of heat storage at full power; weapons are fully charged and we have no gripes.”

  The commander shook his head, “Amazing. Well, the day is still young.” Lt. Tretiakov smiled, “Yes sir.”

  Captain Muhr commed Cdr. Sinclair, “Commander, I want you to personally inspect the weapons power settings. We’ve entered Intelligence’ estimated outer limit of detection by the Vickie, and we really don’t want to put a hole in a friendly.”

  The commander jumped to his feet and entered the capacitor room. He waved to Alexi and the two stepped over to the load balancing cabinet. Alexi brought up the power settings, and pointed silently to the ‘test’ setting for their weapons. Cdr. Sinclair formally stated, “I have visually verified that weapons power settings are set to ‘test’, and locked down.”

  He returned to the main console and informed the captain.

  Over the next three hours the Tillotson slowly slid deeper into ‘enemy’ territory. They were still seven million kilometers away from the four thousand kilometer diameter body, whose surface temperature was just a few degrees above absolute zero.

  The Navy had planted several infrared emitters, designating a military base. The Bon Homme Richard was tasked with taking control of the installation. To that end, the four Hawks were each loaded up with ten heavily armed Marines. As soon as the Bonnie Dick fighters were able to clear the defenders from the area, the Hawks would descend to the planet’s surface and offload the Marines. Meanwhile, those Marines were highly uncomfortable.

  Alexi felt like a mushroom.

  Captain Muhr announced, “Crew, we have just been notified that two flights of Bonnie Dick’s fighters have reported the location of the Vickie. She has launched two more flights of fighters, who should be in position to attack within four hours. I have authorized the galley to open, cold food only. Department heads will designate two members of their departments to leave their station to eat. I want everyone fed and back on station within one hour.”

  Ninety minutes later a flight of Vickie fighters attacked the two lead flights from the Bonnie Dick. Sensors on the fighters recorded shots and hits, and within just a few moments five Bonnie Dick fighters accelerated to max, heading toward the dim drive signature of a distant carrier.

  Over the next two hours, reports continued to filter down to the power room. It looked to Alexi like a very disorganized, poorly orchestrated attack, and he wasn’t impressed with the way the ‘enemy’ was operating either.

  Captain Muhr announced, “We’ve located the Los Ang
eles, and the Tillotson will be maneuvering into position to attack.” No mention of the other destroyers.

  In piecemeal fashion, flights of fighters approached the Vickie, but none got close enough to launch even a heavy missile.

  Eventually, one reported that the ship they’d been attacking was in fact the Los Angeles. Captain Muhr’s target was actually another destroyer.

  Alexi smiled in appreciation: someone on the other side was very sneaky. As long as they couldn’t pin down the location of the enemy carrier, its’ fighters were a threat.

  The Tillotson suddenly went to a low rate of acceleration, and Alexi listened carefully as his coolant pumps spun up. They began dumping excess heat into the sump. He nodded; the captain was trying to move without completely giving away his position. Unfortunately, the gravity drive was a much bigger red flag than their heat signature.

  An alarm went off, and Cdr. Sinclair announced, “We’ve been hit with an energy weapon. Not our department.”

  Two of the ship’s energy weapons discharged, but shortly after, another alarm went off. Cdr. Sinclair said, “We’ve just lost radar and two energy mounts. I’m cutting power to both bow emitters, and to radar.”