The Nameless War

by Edmond Barrett

  "The Home Fleet might make realspace re-entry close enough to the second fleet to engage." Dauntless’s second in command ventured cautiously.

  "That’s only going to happen if they screw up their jump calculations, royally." O’Malley replied flatly. "If they come out where they should, they will immediately be in contact with the first fleet."

  "We can’t afford to ignore either of their fleets anyway." Emily added, "The first fleet is much smaller than the second, but it’s still big enough to pack one hell of a punch, if we allow it do what it likes. We have to engage both fleets!"

  Silence returned to the table.

  "The Samuel Clemens still has those anti-ship mines Ma’am." Captain Beevor of the Hammerhead said breaking the silence of despair.

  "So what," O’Malley replied, "Even if we had a proper minelayer, we couldn’t get them into position. To deploy the mines safely, we’d have to be so far ahead of them that they wouldn’t reach the minefield for hours, assuming they reached them at all."

  "If we can be sure of one thing, it’s that they will react to the Home Fleet turning up, it doesn’t matter whether its changing course, or jumping out they will miss the minefield." Moscoe added.

  "Well what about putting them onto fighters, use them to drop the mines directly into their path?" Beevor said.

  "Vampires could probably only carry one each, we’d have more firepower with our missiles." Moscoe replied. "If we could dump a hundred in front of them, then yeah, but we can’t do that."

  "What kind of mines are they?" Brian asked quietly.

  "Medium anti-ship mines, Ma’am. Only old Mk III’s but the Samuel Clemens does have a couple of hundred of them."

  "Yeah but we still don’t have a minelayer, there is no way we’re going to be able to get them across the path of a fleet in open space." O’Malley objected. "We can’t use mines, that’s the top and bottom of it."

  Beevor shrugged.

  "I only mention it as an option." He replied defensively.

  Brian leaned back in her chair as silence returned to the table, and stared up at the deckhead. Anti-ship mines? The words had prodded a brain cell into action, she could feel an idea forming within her head, she listened to it grow and gain substance. She considered how it could work. She considered the much longer list, of how it could go wrong. It could possibly do the job, but it really needed several weeks of work on simulators to figure out all the variables. To even consider doing it on the fly, you’d have to be mad… or desperate. She glanced at her watch; the Home Fleet was about one hundred minutes away. Madness, well time would tell but desperate, certainly.

  Ten years ago there had been a proposal to build a class of dedicated high speed minelayer cruisers; the design was ultimately shelved for budgetary reasons. But before it was, Brian had been on a committee involved in working out the ways such a ship could be used. The vastness of space made strategic mine laying a bit of a non-starter, but on a tactical scale there were more possibilities. The idea of discouraging pursuit by dropping mines astern had been obvious, but the most junior member of the committee, a lieutenant commander, had suggested the idea of using a minelayer offensively.

  As a rule of thumb, fleets would spend much of their time inside a planet’s mass shadow, however if a fleet wanted to travel from one planet to another it had to leave the mass shadow before it could activate the jump drives. This, the lieutenant commander suggested, offered a brief window of opportunity. Assuming friendly shadowing or screening elements were present to report the enemy’s position, the minelayer could make a jump directly in front of the enemy fleet and drop its mines in front of enemy, too close for them to take evasive action. The lieutenant commander himself had admitted that such a scheme would be dangerous in the extreme, since the minelayer would have to spin its jump drive back up before it could make its escape. Because of this and other flaws, the committee decided against including the scenario in its report.

  The idea however had struck a cord in Brian and in the years since she had from time to time re-examined it in her own time. Always though, the weak point had been the sheer unlikelihood of the minelayer surviving the hail of short-range fire that would be directed at it. But what if the minelayers survival wasn’t a consideration? Would mines pack enough of a punch?

  The Mk III anti-ship mine had been designed primarily to defend deep space installations. Despite its name, the weapon was basically an autonomous single shot missile launcher. Heavily stealthed and equipped with passive sensors, the mine would wait until a starship came within range, then it would rotate to face the contact and fire its missile. The range was likely to be extremely short, offering the target vessel almost no time in which to react. The mines small size and, unlike ship missiles, requirement to hold station for years if necessary, precluded the use of any sort of fusion power derivative to provide propellant or explosive. Instead the designers had used chemical rockets and shaped charges large enough, it was hoped, to penetrate the armoured hulls of Aèllr ships. Certainly against the unarmoured hulls of the Nameless, the damage the mines could inflict would be catastrophic, more importantly, no fleet finding itself in a minefield would hold formation. And that would offer them a chance at the tankers.

  "Actually we do have a minelayer." She said out loud still staring at the deckhead. "We have seven empty fighter bays."

  03.53 hours Fleet Time

  The whole squadron was seated in the briefing room; there were also several of the Dauntless’s officers and petty officers present. Yet there were still a lot of empty seats.

  Brian slipped, unnoticed, into the briefing room from the back and to take the weight off her bad leg, was now leaning against a bulkhead. Standing silently beside her Captain O’Malley. Moscoe was at the head of the room and had just finished outlining what they were facing. It wasn’t the fleets’ usual practice, as a rule pilots were sent on missions without knowing the wider situation; where they were going, what they were to shoot at, that was all flight crews normally needed to know. But not this time. ‘Tell them everything,’ she had ordered Moscoe, ‘make sure they know why we are doing this.’

  "Currently your fighters are being fitted with the standard load out for an anti-ship strike, that is to say four Long Lance Light anti-ship missiles plus standard countermeasures. Within the next forty minutes, Dauntless will be jumping to these co-ordinates here." Moscoe indicated on the display "This is will place us approximately six light minutes ahead of the second enemy fleet’s outer screen, assuming they hold their current speed and heading. There, we will receive a final update on their position from the shadowing courier on their position; we will then make a second jump… to here."

  For a moment there was silence in the briefing room, then shocked whispers raced around the room.

  "Christ! They only asked the Light Brigade to go once!" Someone at the back muttered audibly.

  Beside Brian, O’Malley stirred.

  "Silence on deck!" He snapped. "This is a briefing, not a discussion!"

  Heads turned: faces showed surprise at finding the two senior officers behind them.

  "Eyes front." Brian said calmly. "Squadron Commander, please continue your briefing."

  "Yes ma’am. As I was saying, we will make a second jump; this should place us inside the outer screen of their fleet." Moscoe continued once silence had returned. "At this point, Dauntless will make a two stage launch. First, all fighters will launch simultaneously. Our primary targets, will once again be fuel tankers. Large warships are your second choice targets.

  "Sir, you said two stage launch. How can there be two stages if we all launch with the first one?" A pilot asked.

  "If you had waited, Duggen, you would have found out without interrupting me. You’ll probably all have noticed that the Samuel Clemens is currently along side us. At the moment we are loading mines into our empty hangers. fifteen seconds after we clear the bays, the hatches on the remaining hangers will be blown. We will deploy a minefield directly acr
oss the path of the enemy fleet. It is expected that this will cause major disruption to the enemy’s formation. So you see, this time round, everyone is going to get shot at…"

  Out of the corner of her eye, Brian saw the ships armoury officer wave to get her attention. She limped out of the briefing room, behind her Moscoe was starting to go into the fine detail of the attack

  "Well?" She asked.

  "All mines are on board ma’am. Eight to each of the fighter hangers, ten to each of the shuttle hangers." He replied. "The hatches have been rigged with cutting charges. We put delay coils on the fuses to the main hinges, so they’ll blow a split second after the connections at the bottom of the hatch. If it works each hatch will flip up and away rather than straight out and possibly in the way of the mines." He explained.

  "Only seventy six mines though? I thought we’d get in more than that."

  "Physically ma’am, we could get twelve into each bay, but we’re relying on the explosive decompression to throw them clear. We’ve run the pressure in the hanger up to twice normal but still, more mines means less air in there to push them out. Not to mention it would raise the chance of mines crashing into one another as they exit." The lieutenant looked tired and more than a little scared, and not without good cause. They’d only found out when the Samuel Clemens arrived with the mines, that the weapons were a good fifteen years old, plus they’d spent much of that time going from extreme heat to extreme cold as they orbited around Alpha Centauri Three. Chemical explosives generally did not age well and often became… unpredictable. In a well organised universe, all of the variables would have been simulated and tested well ahead of time, rather than worked out as they went along. They certainly wouldn’t be trying to fit explosive bolts next to large piles of explosives of uncertain stability. There was more than a passing chance, that they would arrive in front of the Nameless, then before the aliens could react, blow themselves up. In a moment of dark humour, Brian had found herself wondering whether the Nameless would puzzle at a counter attack that apparently involved self immolation.

  "Ma’am? Admiral?"

  "I’m sorry lieutenant." Brian replied, realising she’d hadn’t been listening. "Please carry on."

  "Admiral, I was saying I still can’t guarantee that none of those mines will hang up in the bays. If we get hit with a mine still on board-"

  "If we get hit, the odds are we’ll be blown away lieutenant. If we are hit with a mine or mines aboard, the only difference is we’ll be blown away that little bit finer. Either way, it will be a closed casket funeral for the lot of us."

  "I just want you to know, that I can’t guarantee it will work right."

  "Welcome to real combat lieutenant." Brian replied with a sigh. "Guarantees never come attached. Anything else?"

  "No ma’am."

  "You’re dismissed then."

  The armourer’s departure offered no respite though. There was the of sound voices from the briefing room, apparently the briefing was over. The ship’s engineering officer came out, looked around, spotted Brian and approached.

  The armourer saluted the engineer as they passed. But he was so intent on Brian, he didn’t notice the lieutenant’s salute, his face was set into a frown.

  The engineer opened his mouth, then paused as Brian held up a hand.

  "Close the hatch commander." She ordered and waited impassively as the engineer obeyed.

  "Alright, what is it?" She asked once he was facing her again.

  "Ma’am, I’ve just heard the briefing and I must tell you that, with all respect this idea is not going to work." The engineer burst out.

  "Really? Please explain, Mister Varadkar."

  "Ma’am, if we jump-into the middle of their fleet, we won’t have time to wait for the destroyers to spin their jump drives back up. we’ll have to use Dauntless’s drive to make our escape."

  "That is correct." Brian agreed.

  "Admiral, Dauntless hasn’t jumped using her own drive in a decade." Varadkar exclaimed.

  "But I know it has been maintained." She replied calmly.

  "Maintained yes, but we haven’t run current through it in years. Ma’am it’s a first generation drive. You don’t seem to understand it needs careful calibration before it can open a jump conduit. We can’t do that under fire!"

  "Two points Commander Varadkar, first I remind you I am nearly sixty years old, I served in the fleet when Gen One drives were all we had. No matter what the manuals say, those drives can be used under fire; Paul Lewis managed it with Hood-"

  "He blew out most of her power grid!"

  "Secondly," Brian continued, ignoring the interruption, "we are doing this regardless of usual considerations. As I said once, we are not here to be safe, we’re here to kill aliens, if it turns out to be a one way trip then so fucking be it!" The last few words were shouted and the commander took an instinctive step back. "This is war Commander; the possibility of getting killed is par for the course. Now instead of complaining, get down to the drive room and make sure it is working. You are dismissed."

  Varadkar saluted stiffly and began to walk away.

  "Oh and Commander Varadkar," Brian called after him, he turned back, "if you step outside the chain of command again, I will cut you off at the knees."

  The engineer stalked away, his shoulders stiff with fear and anger. Once he was out of sight, she let out a heart felt sigh and leaned back against the bulkhead. It wasn’t really Varadkar’s fault; with the exception of the instructors, training ships weren’t the first choice assignment for top flight officers, so invariably didn’t get them. Since she had first outlined her plan, damn near everyone one of Dauntless’s senior officers had forwarded to her some sort of quiet or not so quiet reservation. Everyone one of them had raised valid points, but every time Brian heard once the words of Admiral Lewis, ‘I’m sorry Emily, but I have to consider both you and Dauntless expendable.’ and dismissed their concerns.

  Beside her the hatch opened again and O’Malley ducked through. He saw her and closed the hatch behind him.

  "As ready as they’re ever going to be." He replied to her unasked question. Of all her officers O’Malley was the only one who hadn’t attempted to dissuade her from the attack. "They might be wet behind the ears Admiral, but they aren’t stupid, they know what this is going to be like."

  "I know Norman. Not that we have much choice, do we?"

  "Not that I can see, ma’am."

  O’Malley, in truth, wasn’t that good an officer. It wasn’t to say he was a bad one, it was just that his career had been undistinguished. So although he was only three years younger than her, he was several grades below her in rank and commanding a ship that had represented a career dead-end. But unlike his subordinates, he was a father and hoping to soon become a grandfather, a fact that may or may not have explained his willingness to seize upon Brian’s plan and see it through. Whatever the reason was, without him running interference Brian doubted she could have forced through the scheme.

  "Ma’am, do you think this will work?" There wasn’t any fear or reluctance in the Captains voice, it was simply one professional officer asking another.

  "Depends on what you mean by works." Emily admitted. "If they have itchy trigger fingers, there is a good chance we’ll be destroyed before the mines deploy. If we catch them by surprise we’ll get the mines out, but the odds of us getting clear…" Brian shook her head for adding. "But you and I both know that isn’t important."

  O’Malley nodded soberly.

  Just then several deep clunks echoed through the ships hull.

  "Samuel Clemens is casting off." Emily commented. "We’re all set."

  "Yes ma’am let’s not keep them waiting."

  ___________________________

  04.10 hours Fleet Time

  The beams supporting the deckhead of the bridge keened and groaned. Every surface was vibrating madly, making most of the bridge displays damn near unreadable. The entire ship was straining at the seams, trying to matc
h the Home Fleets punishing pace. Sitting in her command chair, only twenty minutes after undocking from the tug, Willis was seriously wondering whether her ship would even survive long enough to make it to the battle. The Geriatrics were already one ship down. Unlike the rest of the squadron, the old raiding cruiser Onslaught had a heat sink big enough to allow interstellar passage unassisted. But the mad charge had proved too much for her clapped out machinery, after four of her six engines blew she was forced to drop away astern. If she arrived at all, it would be hours after the rest of the Home Fleet.

  Hood might have only been under her own power for twenty minutes, but already the temperature of the heat sink was crossing through the forty percent mark. In all her years in the service, Willis had never seen a temperature gauge go up so fast. If it hit saturation point, then they would have to cut power or watch the heat sink, and the rest of engineering, start to melt.

  Behind her on the engineering repeater display an alarm started to buzz urgently.

  Now what? Willis thought to herself as she twisted in her seat. The master engine alarm light was glowing.

  Willis flicked on her intercom.

  "Chief, what’s going on back there?"

  Across the intercom came the sound of a fire extinguisher being let off.

  "Just a bit of an overheat problem in the grid skipper. We’re on top of it." Guinness’s voice sounded totally calm.

  Willis snapped her helmet visor down, so her bridge crew couldn’t overhear her.

  "Chief, we’re still twenty five minutes out from re-entry. Are the engines going to take it?"

  "They should do ma’am. But don’t worry, if they do pack up I’ll get out and push."