by Gary Beller
“This is the Mk. 75 Particle Gun. It has an internal bore of 152 millimeters, or roughly six inches. These sections you see here are magnetic accelerator coils. Here in the breach, a canister is inserted, holding magnetically suspended atomic particles, in the case of most of our weapons Tungsten is used, because of its’ high atomic weight. When we pull the trigger, the can releases a batch of particles, which are then given a positive charge. The polarity of these coils is moderated, from negative ahead of the particle stream, to positive alongside and behind. As you might recall from science class, opposite forces attract, like forces repel: The beam is pulled by a negative field in front, and pushed by a positive field from behind, accelerating the beam to nearly light speed by the time it reaches the muzzle.”
“So, basically, this thing is a big set of magnets?” “Precisely, Sarn’t” Petty Officer Solomon said. “Come over here, I’ll demonstrate.” He said, bringing us to a work bench.
“These are standard magnets, like you might see on your mum’s fridge at home, each one has a positive and a negative side. Watch, I put the negative sides together, and they push away,” He said, demonstrating with the magnets, which did, in fact, push off of eachother. “Now, I flip this magnet to its positive side and…” with a solid clicking noise, the magnets stuck together. “So, imagine if you will, being able to use that in a series of magnets along a run of about eight meters, and you can make those particlesgo really fast.”
“Petty Officer?” Howie said, raising his hand, “If a particle weapon fires a stream of microscopic particles, how does it actually damage anything?”
“You’ve heard of Albert Einstein, yes? E=MC2. Energy equals Mass times velocity squared. So, this thing takes a very small amount of Tungsten, less than a gram, and accelerates it almost to the speed of light. At that speed, the small particles have a massive amount of energy. When they hit something, the energy is transferred from particle totarget. The results are often explosive.”
Our next stop was the hangar bay and the lower hangar level. Although the ship’s flight deck was small, a larger hangar existed below it, running the length of both the upper hangar and the landing pad outside of it, large enough for three C-20 jumpers. Ensign Reymond explained to us that, although the ship carried three C-20s, it could be fitted with a mix of different types, including the larger C-30 class, and the smaller C-6 and C-10 class jumpers.
We walked back through Broadway, the nickname the crew gave for a long, wide corridor running almost right down the middle of the ship. Off Broadway, we viewed Torpedo Room One, which held the upper pair of torpedo tubes and the automatic loading mechanisms.
“Are these live torpedoes?” Howard asked.
“Yes, Midshipman. All the torpedoes stored in here are live. They do not, however, arm themselves until they are in the launch tube on their way over the side.” Ensign Reymond said.
“Sir, what is the difference between a torpedo and a missile?” I asked.
“One moment.” Raymond said, calling over one of the Torpedomen. “This is Torpedoman 3rd Class Riley Aimes. She can explain to you the difference.”
“Yes, Sir.” She said. She placed her hand on one of the torpedoes. “This is a Mk. 80 Torpedo. It is a 21 inch diameter torpedo, and measures 20 feet long. Its top speed is classified, but it is fast enough that no warship can outrun it. The difference between a Torpedo, like you see here, and a missile, is multi-fold. Torpedoes are designed largely for anti-ship warfare. Torpedoes are long-range, wide bodied weapons. The drive system is a series of four thrusters, each capable of vectoring and reversing their thrust. Fifty percent of the torpedo’s internal volume and weight is given to its warhead, with the other half split between engines, fuel, onboard computer, and seeker.” She paused and looked at us. “Torpedoes come in a limited variety. The Mk. 80 is the standard Coalition anti-ship torpedo. We also have dummy warhead training rounds, as well as the Mk. 99 torpedo, which has an Anti-Matter warhead. Use of the Mk. 99 is severely restricted.”
“Missiles are generally smaller, faster, and more maneuverable. What they gain in speed and agility, they give up in range and power. Some missile types, such as the MRM-30, are capable of being used against warships at close range, although as I said, it lacks the hitting power of the torpedo. The MRM-45 is used as our primary defensive weapon against enemy Starfighters, and the missiles can be ‘Quad-packed’ into a standard missile tube, meaning that 4 missiles occupy a single launch tube.”
She took a breath and continued, “The one variation to this general differentiation is the CM-115 Mjolnir. The Mjolnir is technically a missile, but is a hybrid weapon. When fitted into a missile cell with a booster, the Mjolnir can achieve speeds similar to that of the MRM-45, despite being almost identical in size to the Mk. 80 torpedo. Rather than a true thrusting engine, however, the Mjolnir uses a sustainer engine to keep its speed. It also uses RCS thrusters like a missile to make course corrections. Mjolnir is used as a long-range cruise missile, and is presently the longest ranged weapon in the Coalition arsenal, capable of hitting targets from as far away as 145,000,000 miles, or about 1.5 times the distance between the Earth and the Sun. Mjolnir can also be launched from the torpedo tubes, which accelerate the missile using electromagnetic induction.”
The next stop on the tour was the Combat Information Center. Located on deck 3, the CIC was described to us as the tactical nerve center of the ship. I expected to find the room brightly lit and full of noise. Instead, the room was more dimly lit, and although crew members were working through a tactical simulation, the voices we could hear were calm. “From here,” Ensign Reymond said, “The ship’s offensive and defensive systems are operated. In combat, either the Executive Officer or the Captain will be down here, directing the action and coordinating with the bridge. And, in a pinch, helm and navigation can be handled from the CIC allowing complete control of the ship.”
***
My bridge watch started promptly at 0800 the next morning. Per our orders, Karissa and I wore our utility duty uniforms and reported to the Officer of the Deck as we arrived. “Midshipmen Jackson Ebert and Karissa Clairemont reporting for duty.” I said.
“Very well. Midshipman Ebert, you will be at Navigation. Midshipman Clairemont, sensors.” Lieutenant Priester said.
“Aye Sir.” Both of us replied in unison.
The Navigation station was a large table with a holographic display. The ship’s navigator stood next to the table, manipulating the map to show our current course. The map display also showed a large blue ring, where a series of small holographic models were. Between our position and the blue ring, a dotted line showed our present course ahead, a solid line showed the path we had taken to get there extending behind the ship.
“Sir, Midshipman Ebert reporting as ordered,” I said, standing at attention before the console.
“Ah, welcome, Midshipman.” The Navigator said. His shoulder boards indicated the rank of Lieutenant. “I am Lieutenant Casim. This is my assistant, Quartermaster Second Class Arroyo.”
“Thank you, sir.” I said, looking at the chart. “Sir, what is this red sphere?” I asked.
“That is an overlay of the Gravitational Zone for Sol. While we are within the red sphere, we cannot engage our warp drive without risking serious damage to the ship.” Casim said.
“So, how large is the Gravitational Zone?” I asked.
“It depends on which direction you go.” Arroyo said. He zoomed out, and manipulated the model of the solar system. The red zone was much wider along the plane of the system, bulging to its’ peak around the sun, but also bulging again in an area near Jupiter and slightly near Saturn. Our position was 185,000,000 miles from Earth, travelling perpendicular to the solar plane. “How long until we are out of the Zone?” I asked.
“About five minutes.” Casim said. “And in about ten minutes we’ll rendezvouswith the convoy.”
“Sir, Convoy is now within close range sensors. Range is two million miles and closing.�
��
“Acknowledged, Sensors.” The Officer of the Deck said. “Captain to the bridge.” He said to the yeoman, who called to the Captain’s battle cabin to inform her her presence was requested on the Bridge. A moment later, Commander McCormick arrived. “Captain on the Bridge.” Arroyo called.
“As you were. Status?” McCormick asked.
“We are approaching the convoy, Navigation estimates ten minutes until we are at the rendezvous.” The Officer of the Deck said.
“Very well. Hail the Convoy leader, report our ETA. All departments to report readiness.”
“Aye, Ma’am.” The Officer of the Deck said. The Yeoman stepped over to his console, and activated the ship wide, imitating a Boatswain’s pipe. “Now hear this: Approaching convoy and departure station. All departments report readiness to the bridge.” He said over the ship wide comm system.
“Captain,” the Communications Specialist said from her console, “We are receiving nav data from UCSS Nelson.”
“Send our acknowledgement and thanks to Commodore Fewel.” McCormick said.
As we came within visual range of the convoy, I had to fight the urge to leave my post to stare out the window. From the plot table, I could see the dozens of ships in a box formation.
“Ebert, Clairemont, care to have a look?” The Captain asked, gesturing to the window.
“Yes, Ma’am.” I said, and walked to the bulkhead.
The convoy was made up of massive container ships, tankers, and military supply vessels. The container ships were essentially a frame, with the containers stacked and locked in the four sections by the thousands. They had superstructures on their aft hulls housing the crew’s working and living spaces and the ship’s engines and bridge.
The tankers and supply ships looked like normal coalition ships: Long cylindrical hulls, tapered at both ends, Superstructures extending above the top of the cylinder. Unlike warships, whose built-up superstructures supported weapons systems, sensors, and communications systems, the civilian ships’ superstructures consisted of an elevated bridge, a flight deck and hangar, and the varying types of gear necessary for the ships to unload.
“How many ships are there?” I asked.
“Thirty-six container ships, twelve bulk hydrogen haulers, six ordinance ships, and twenty personnel transports.” The Yeoman said. “And an escort force of six frigates, four destroyers and two heavy cruisers.”
“So where is our place?” I asked, heading back to the navigation plot.
“We’re the front picket.” McCormick said. “Nav, do you have that course plotted?”
“Yes, Ma’am. Course is plotted, once we assume our position in the formation, we’ll be cleared for light speed.” Casim replied.
A moment later a voice came over the comm. “All ships, this is the Gettysburg. Make final preparations for light speed. Initial on my mark.”
McCormick turned. “Status?”
“All departments report ready, Captain.” The Officer of the Deck reported.
“Bridge to Engineering, direct power to the warp reactors. Yeoman Driess, bring up warp field display on panel 3.” McCormick said.
“Engineering to Bridge, Warp reactors are online. Warp field is stabilizing.” The Engineer’s voice came booming onto the bridge. The deck beneath my feet began vibrating, and then shaking vigorously. “Is that normal?” I asked Lieutenant Casim.
“Not for one ship. But we are in close proximity to almost a hundred other ships all powering up their warp systems, so there is a lot of spatial turbulence.” He replied.
“Will it be like this for the whole run?” I asked, glancing over at Karissa. Even though she had experienced space flight before, the turbulence seemed to be bugging even her.
“The flight control system will stabilize us momentarily.” Casim said. Sure enough, the ship slowly settled back in. “All ships,” came the voice of the Gettysburg’s Captain, “We are clear for light speednow.”
“Helm, engage.” McCormick said. Through the windows, the visible distortion of the star field intensified momentarily. The pinpoints of light stretched into long beams, and then suddenly we were off.
Chapter 3
“That was cool.” I said, looking to Karissa as we walked through the chow line.
“Yeah, it was!” She said, bouncing from excitement at the completion of our first bridge watch.
“Calm down, Clairemont.” Raines said, coming up behind us. “You’ll bounce your head off the overhead.”
“Sorry, Sergeant. That was really cool, though.” She said.
“That I understand.” The Marine instructor said. “Ebert? Did you enjoy it too?”
“Yes, Sergeant.” I said, suppressing a smile.
“Good. I talked to Chief Miers, he said you two did well. Maybe tomorrow one of you will get a chance to take the helm.”
“The helm? Really?” I said, not believing him.
“Yes. Just be careful, we’re in a large formation at warp speeds. You don’t want to bump us into another ship. That would be bad. Very bad.” He said, walking away.
I looked at Karissa and smiled. “Sounds fun.”
We took our seat in the mess deck, with Jenna Yang and Howard Vance. “So, how was your shift?” I asked, looking at Jenna and Howard.
“Engineering is cool, man.” Howard said, “Jenna got to hit the initialize controls for the warp reactors.”
“It was awesome.” Jenna said, beaming. “How was the bridge?”
“It was awesome.” Karissa said. “There was a lot going on the sensor boards.”
“Should have seen the plot table. It’s really amazing.” I said. I looked around the room and saw Midshipman Bielema sitting by herself. “You guys see that?”
“Yeah…She’s been by herself since she came back from California.” Karissa said.
“Anyone know why?” I asked.
“No clue.” Jenna said.
“I’ll go talk to her.” I said.
I walked over to where she sat. “Something I can help you with, Mr. Ebert?” She said, her voice not sounding like her usual cheery self.
“May I sit with you?” I asked.
“Why?” She snapped.
“Well, Ma’am, It occurs to me that you’ve been isolating yourself since you returned from California. I just thought I’d see if you were alright?”
She paused and looked up. “That noticeable, huh?” She said.
“Yeah. Pretty noticeable.” I said.
“Take a seat.” She said, sitting up. “You know my brother, theMarine?”
“Yeah. Didn’t he come through on a tour first semester?”
“Yeah. While I was in California, I was staying with his family: My sister in law and my nieces. So, I got off early after a day on the range and went back to their house for some coffee. While I was there, the Black Sedan rolled up.”
“Black Sedan?” I asked.
“It’s a black government car. They are never good news. This one brought two Marine Officers and a Chaplain. They told us my brother…” She paused for a moment, trying not to cry, “My brother had died, killed in action on some far off world.”
“I’m sorry…I had no idea.” I said.
“Thanks…I don’t mean to be distant…just. Not sure how to handle this. I think I need to take a walk.” She said.
“If you need company, I’m off duty for a few hours.” I offered.
“Sure.” She smiled at me. “If your girlfriend doesn’t mind.” She said.
“My girlfriend, Ma’am?” I asked, confused.
“You mean you and Clairemont aren’t a thing?”
“If we are, I missed the memo.” I looked over at my friends, and Karissa winked at me. Am I missing something? I wondered.
Rachel smiled at me. “Come, let’s talk, Jack.” She said. We walked from the mess hall to a common room attached to the Midshipmen Quarters. “So…Are you okay?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I lost my big brother…he was my h
ero…and apparently everyone’s hero. He was a mentor…and a motivator.”
“Everyone’s hero? Did they tell you…” I realized I may have been overstepping.
“I’m actually surprised you guys didn’t hear. My brother’s unit liberated a POW camp…during the fight with the guards, someone threw a grenade and it landed in the middle of Kevin’s squad mates. Colonel Pierce said Kevin warned everyone and jumped on it, using his body to shield everyone else.” Rachel was visibly resisting the urge to cry now.
My jaw dropped. I had seen holomovies where soldiers threw themselves on grenades or made other selfsacrificial acts that let the heroes continue on to their big moment…But I didn’t believe that people actually did things like that.
“Left you speechless too, huh?” She said, a smile creeping in at the corner of her lips.
“Yeah. I always thought stories like that were just exaggerations for dramatic effect in stories.”
“I wish. So, before my California tour ended, I was invited with Carla to visit the Presidential Manor in Chicago. I met the President, the Valderan Emperor and Empress, and aPrince who Kevin’s team saved.”
“Not often you get to meet alien royalty.” I said, trying to put a positive spin on it.
“Well, it was pretty cool. The reason sucked, though.” She smiled, and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s made me think about things. You’re on the Marine option, right?”
“Yeah.” I said.
“Sergeant Raines and the others, they don’t sugar coat things. We know this life is going to be dangerous…but we’re students. Insulated from the outside world…well, for the most part.” She said, looking around. “Made me wonder if being a Marine is what I really want to do.”
“Did you figure anything out?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m sticking with it. I could go on some rambling, patriotic speech about it. But it’s what feels right for me, and that’s what counts.” She said, looking me in the eyes. “Jack, you didn’t know Clairemont has a thing for you?”