“Sounds reasonable, N.”
“So, that’s why each warship does its best to protect its power core as best it can. Other vulnerable systems to target directly on starships include the bridge, of course; take out the ship’s command and control. That is why all primary Alliance warships have a secondary, or backup bridge, ready to take over if the main bridge should be taken out.”
“I think I get this part. Take out a ship’s systems and it can’t function. Knock out it’s scanners and communication, and it becomes blind and deaf. Take out its weapons, and it can’t fight back. Destroy its sublight drives and jump drives, and it can’t move or get away.”
Naero continued. “Take out its gravitics and life support, and it can’t operate very well, and the crew won’t last long. Plus, damaging starships in general usually sets them on fire and forces them to void the battle and flee–if they want to survive and fight another day. If a ship is in danger of cooking-off and exploding, the crew will normally abandon ship in lifepods as a last resort, in order to get a safe distance away.”
“I’ve seen a lot of the enemy warships simply give up and surrender, after they’ve been licked. But Triax does not take prisoners.”
“No, they never have. Throughout all four of the Spacer Wars with the Gigacorps, Triax and the others have not taken prisoners, and show no mercy to our helpless crews. We tried to negotiate that into the last treaty as well, but the Corps usually ignore it. When we capture their people, they are put on huge POW. ships, and sent to wait out the end of the war far to the rear.”
“But first,” Tarim noted, “Enemy vessels that surrender must be boarded and pacified. As part of the process of their crews becoming prisoners of war. Usually our Marines are put in charge of that. I’ve seen that first hand. I’ve went along with some of the Marine boarding parties during pacification operations.”
“Yes,” Naero said. “That’s why each Alliance warship has full detachments of Marines stationed on board. Marines train constantly to be experts at pacification, security, and boarding operations. This also includes all ops on the ground on liberated enemy systems, worlds, and bases.”
Tarim looked up at the two battling holoships once more. Both of them sustained minor damage and a few fires on board.
“So, negate the enemy warship’s deflector shields, punch through their armor, and damage their systems sufficiently enough to eliminate them as a threat. Destroy them, leave them floating helpless for later capture, or force them to turn and flee.”
Naero crossed her arms in front of herself and began to pace slightly.
“Most naval space battles are not static, Tarim. They’re very dynamic and complex, with many variables and strategies at work. Fleets of fifty ships fight in all three dimensions and are usually constantly moving and maneuvering at attack speed, in various complex formations. They do this in order to gain advantageous attack vectors and gunnery profiles to concentrate the effectiveness of their massed weapons.”
“I’ve noticed that most warships primarily rely on one to four main guns, usually in a spinal mount configuration.”
“Yes, Naero said. “That is based on the limits of current tek. The standard primary weapon remains the particle beam cannon–usually the bigger the better–and it has been that way since the Third Spacer War. But size has been limited by tek and available materials. Main guns require large quantities of energy from the well-protected, central power core in order to fire. But the basic tek has changed little overall. Most of the recent advances have been in power supply and rate of fire. A ship with a smaller main gun that can fire rapidly can–in theory–do more damage in a shorter period of time than a huge main gun that fires slowly. But it also has to get in closer to do so.”
Naero popped up another four pak of Jett and tossed Tarim one.
He caught it, took a slug, and asked her, “So, is it the size of its cannons that determines a ship’s class and function?”
Naero winced slightly. “Perhaps in part, but that’s putting the cart before the horse. Size, mass, construction materials, displacement tonnage, power supply, and other parameters determine what a warship is configured to be, its primary role, and what size armaments it can effectively support. You could put bigger guns on a smaller ship, but it wouldn’t produce enough power to be able to utilize those weapons effectively.
“And that would also take away from the ship’s allocations for shields, armor, and other vital capabilities. Ship design must take all of these factors into consideration and come up with a balanced, workable approach.”
Naero pulled up holos of standard ships and designs in front of them.
“Larger warships usually have bigger guns, with the exception of carriers. Carriers are primarily used to deploy fighter waves. Carriers usually do not have spinal guns or primary batteries. They focus on heavy secondary batteries for defensive purposes.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, destroyers normally have multiple main guns ranging from .5 meters to 2.5 meters in diameter. Cruisers can be one, two, or three times again the size of destroyers, and support fewer, but larger main guns anywhere between 3 and 6 meters. Battleships are at least twice the size of cruisers, and are armed with the largest production particle beam cannons possible–7 meters to 12 meters normally. But now, new cannons can be up to 16 meters in diameter–usually on dreadnaughts, or what we call ‘super-battleships.’”
Now it was Tarim who grinned. “That is why The Hippolyta and all of the other Dromon Class dreadnaughts are so formidable. They wield the largest main guns ever produced–16 meters–enormous. And their rate of fire is staggering. If it’s one thing I can appreciate, it’s big guns and heavy firepower.”
“Indeed. The Amazons are true ship-killers, but they are also difficult and time consuming to manufacture. You could produce five or six conventional battleships with greater firepower overall, in the same time frame that each dreadnaught is completed. Yet the trade off is survivability. The Dromon class is simply that much tougher. They’ve suffered severe damage, but not a single one has ever been destroyed outright.”
“The admirals should just have the dreadnaughts focus on destroying ship after ship.”
Naero grinned and shook her head. “You might think that. But actually, the Dromon Class Dreadnaughts have proven themselves to serve an even better purpose—one that even the designers did not foresee.”
“And what is that?”
“The Amazons and their huge cannons are unmatched in taking down enemy shielding. No other warship can negate enemy shields as quickly. Sometimes even multiple ships at a time with each blast, if the firing profiles can be lined up correctly. That leaves multiple enemy vessels almost instantly vulnerable to the other strike fleet ships roaring up behind. Even shield negation missile frigates cannot get in close enough, and take out the enemy shields as fast as the Dromon can–and almost at any range.”
“What then, is a mass-driver?”
“More or less a glorified, high velocity rock-chucker. A railgun, shooting a projectile at hyper-velocities. The same basic principle as your gauss sniper rifle. Mass drivers were a primary weapon during the first two spacer wars, even more effective than the long obsolete pulse and beam lasers. Mass-drivers are still effective as planetary or system defenses, as we’ve seen Triax use them against us within various worlds, moons, and asteroid fields. But mass-drivers still need ammunition. Particle beam batteries do not, plus they do more damage, and have a higher rate of fire, overall.”
“Does a larger cannon have a greater effective range?”
“Yes, just like a rifle can usually shoot farther than a pistol. Dreadnaughts and battleships can engage targets at extreme ranges that other ships cannot. They have the biggest guns and the most power. Cruisers, destroyers, and frigates have smaller guns and specialized weapons such as shield negation missiles, but can usually rely on their greater speed and maneuverability to get them in closer to do damage faster and get back out. And it is fa
r easier to have smaller weapons fire at higher rates of speed. So, if they do get in close in the mix, they can do a lot of damage very quickly, especially if they fight in formation and optimize their concentrated fire.”
“Then why doesn’t the Alliance simply build all dreadnaughts if they are the best? Why have all of these different ships? Different sizes. Different types. Fleet carriers, strike carriers, pocket carriers. Dreadnaughts, battleships. Heavy cruisers, strike cruisers, light cruisers. Destroyers, missile frigates. Gunships and drone ships. Minelayers. What good are all the various starfighters? Why not have just one all-purpose fighter that’s the best of them all?”
Naero laughed, and popped up some more comfortable nano lounge chairs for them to recline in after their meal.
She sighed. Tarim had so many questions. This was going to take some time. More than she thought.
Above them, the blue battleship finally blew up the red one. Naero swiped that simplified holo simulation away, with a wave of one hand.
She proceeded to explain why modern interstellar navies used different types of warships–even highly specialized ones–for different purposes and missions.
“Tarim. Look at all of these designs. Different types of warships serve different functions and are better at performing certain functions and tasks than others. A standard fleet is normally fifty main warships:
Five Assorted Carriers, of three main types. Usually launching their fighters in coordinated sorties from the rear, or behind the protective screens of the rest of the fleet. Carriers could also be used as flagships.
Five Battleships, sometimes led by a Dreadnaught class ship, or super-battleship as the flagship.
Ten Cruisers, of three main types.
Twenty Destroyers, three main types.
Five Specialized Missile Frigates
Five Specialized Gunships
“Assorted minelayers, couriers, transport, supply, and lesser support ships. Not considered primary warships, or ships of the line.”
Naero went on explaining the capabilities and uses of each type of warship, and their roles in the fleet.
Carriers both protected the fleet from other, enemy starfighter waves, and sent fighters on the attack themselves. Truth be told, all warships of destroyer class or larger carried their own complement of starfighters, however small, for ship defense. Carriers could simply carry and deploy large numbers of starfighters at a time in waves. Once they launched their contingents, carriers were such big targets that they normally defended themselves to the rear, or in the center of battles, behind the main formations of the other warships.
Starfighter waves were often wild cards that could turn battles either way. They could slip in quickly and cause lots of damage, and then rip back out just a fast to go somewhere else.
Dreadnaughts and Battleships had the firepower, heavy defenses, and moxie to go right at the enemy and take the fighting straight to them, ship-to-ship. Cruisers and destroyers often protected the flanks and rear of the fleet normally, With their high speed, high rate of fire, and exceptional maneuverability, they could do many things and pull tricks that the larger ships could not.
Other specialized ships served their specialized functions as need.
They broke off their conversation not long after dinner.
Naero had other duties she needed to attend to.
Tarim thanked her profusely, insisting that between Tyber’s vidgames and her training, he was finally beginning to understand.
Naero promised to continue working with him. He still had a lot of questions about Spacer society in general and their form of self-governing.
She hadn’t even begun to discuss those matters, or firing profiles and attack vectors, or jump drives–let alone all of the various standard and specialized fleet formations, that all warship captains and officers were expected to know, understand, and execute.
But Tarim was right. He wasn’t a Spacer.
Spacers like her understood and studied all of this kind of complex naval warfare data from an early age.
The survival of the Spacer Clans had often been determined by such mastery, time and time again, many times over.
15
They cycled through the rear areas to refit and resupply for a few days.
Naero accepted a challenge for a knife-sparring session with Captain Imala Kalada of The Warhorse. She looked forward to a good workout in one of the special knife rooms she was developing.
And Imala promised to give her one.
Captain Kalada was seven millimeters shorter than Naero. A tiny, wiry young woman with brown eyes and straight, shoulder-length, jet black hair. When she smiled the right way, one could easily mistake her for a cute young girl, or perhaps even a child.
Naero knew better than that.
For sparring practices, they obviously could not use real blades.
Any ship captains who would allow themselves to be wounded in sparring matches, and rendered unable to command, could be brought up on lapse of judgment, negligence, and dereliction of duty charges by their superiors. And rightfully reprimanded or disciplined.
Instead, for knife sparring purposes, Naero and Imala used various energized shock blades, made out of semi-flexible conducting filaments. These practice blades were specifically designed to have a similar weight, heft, and balance as real blades, and could even be thrown with great accuracy.
When the blades struck properly, they gave the opponent a painful shock, and left behind a bright, programmable, fluorescent stain to mark a jab, stab, slice, or cut. Such markers could be reset after each match.
Quite ingenious really, and invaluable for training purposes.
Naero moved quickly and deftly on her feet, not letting Imala tangle her up or trip her. Footwork and positioning in any up close fight situation were crucial.
Imala knew that well, too.
For once Naero thought she might have an advantage against someone shorter than her. In truth, not many Spacers were.
Yet Imala remained both tricky, fearless, and quicker than a box of snakes.
After several initial passes, and a few grappling sessions, all of their clashes ended in mutual kills. A deadly tie.
Neither one of them could claim any victory over the other.
Imala was equal to her in speed, raw skill, and ferocity.
Naero had a slight advantage in size and strength, but strength in a knife fight did not always count for much.
Slower opponents thrice Imala’s size would do well not to get into a knife fight with the little Apache woman, whatever their strength.
She would cut them to pieces and lay them open in seconds.
After half an hour, their stalemate endured.
Each time Naero thought she found an opening in her opponent’s defense, Imala would also manage to slip through hers.
Both of them were sweating after such an intense work out.
Sweating but happy. Each of them kept probing and trying various tricks.
Naero tended to smile when she fought.
Imala’s face usually remained impassive.
But every now and then, Imala would voice a fierce war cry, and launch an attempt at another overwhelming assault.
Naero had her own war cries that she used to inspire, and drive herself on.
They clashed repeatedly. Sometimes they stood close in together, cutting, jabbing, feinting, parrying, and blocking each other for several intense minutes.
They finally took a breather.
Imala burst out laughing once they sat down to replace some fluids.
“This is hilarious. It’s like fighting my whole family in my Clan. My mother and father, my brothers and sisters. We have the same problem. We’ve all gotten so good with knives–that we’re more or less equals. We can get lucky here or there, but none of us can ever really defeat the other.”
Naero handed Imala a frosty borbble of Jett.
Imala eyed it suspiciously. “I’ve seen this stuff around before. Wh
at the heck is it? I usually don’t enjoy soft drinks.”
Naero grinned.
“Boy, do you have a treat in store for you. Jett is a citrus-based beverage, based on the black night orange. You’ll love it. It’s my favorite.”
Naero sucked one down and reached for another.
Imala took a sip, and then shrugged–as if it were nothing, and slowly drank hers.
It was Jett. Naero couldn’t believe it.
“You don’t like it?”
How could people not like it?
Imala shrugged again. “It’s okay. At least it’s cold and quenches your thirst.” She even made a little bit of a face. “A little too sour for me.” She finished hers, and then reached for another box of the standard, fruit punch nutrient lix, that most practice rooms stocked as a default.
How could anyone in their right mind pass up Jett for that regular junk? Oh…well. More for her.
They went back to talking blades and knife tricks.
Each of them had their own strong opinions and ideas.
Imala suddenly shook hands with her, right up to the elbows in the warrior’s embrace. Naero returned the favor.
She smiled again. “Thanks, N. We’ll have to do this again. It’s just what I needed.”
“Anytime, Imala.”
“My friends and family call me, Ima. I wish you would too. We fight side-by-side and protect each other. I’d be proud to call you my sister.”
Now it was Naero’s turn to smile. “We are sisters, Ima. I’d like that. Some of us are closer than others, but anyone who fights beside me, I consider my Clan, my blood.”
Ima grinned “As it should be.”
They embraced briefly.
Ima offered Naero one of her special Clan Apache fighting knives.
Naero in turn gave her one of the new battle blades that Tyber had developed. She showed her all of the different modes.
Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War Page 10