by Chris Hechtl
Here and there he could see small point defense phaser turrets and sensor pods along with half egg-shaped grav pods. The defense turrets were a sop to the crew. They would serve as a last ditch effort to protect the ship from incoming fire but could only interdict some of it. Energy weapons were their Achilles' heel. Hopefully, the shields were pretty powerful with redundant systems he mused. And plenty of heat sinks, he thought, trying to wrestle the thought train aside with difficulty.
A light carrier like Illustrious had a compliment of 120 craft. That was, if she didn't have to have guests on board. The compliment was usually mixed in squadrons, fighters, interceptors, bombers, and support craft, though a carrier's compliment could be tailored to a specific mission if necessary. He remembered reading carriers that had been outfitted with shuttles to evacuate people during the Xeno war. It had been an appalling wasted use of a warship since even with a compliment of sky whale shuttles they wouldn't have made much of a dent in a population.
A straight carrier like Spirit of America had a compliment of 240 craft. An assault carrier, a heavily armored vessel they weren't building could handle 300 craft but was slow on the helm and the same size as a fleet carrier which Argus was.
Argus would have a balanced wing of 360 craft when she was fully loaded. Each squadron was made up of eight to twelve craft. The general use fighters would hold the most slots since they were multi-role. Most likely there would be a dozen squadrons of GP craft. Call it 144 total. Then another six squadrons of interceptor craft for another seventy-two. The same number of squadrons of bombers and eight squadrons of eight support craft-like tankers, eyes craft, SAR shuttles, and lighters.
If he remembered correctly, each ship would carry about a dozen spare craft to fill in if a bird was down checked … a couple of those would be reserved for personal use by the CAG as well.
At least for the time being the carrier community was keeping it simple, he thought. They weren't pushing for stealth fighters or other craft nor specialists like recon fighters. The eyes craft did that role much better than a fighter even if it wasn't as fast and had a much larger crew on board.
Most likely somewhere at some time they’d fit in weapon drones of various sorts. At least he hoped so.
He hadn't much experience with the carrier side of the fleet, so every exposure to them brought something new to his education. Like the various rooms in Prifly and the double bridge assemblies. One wasn't just a CIC with the other being a maneuvering bridge.
Apparently, the ship ran as almost two independent entities, with the bridge crew and ship crew running the ship while the pilots and support staff were running the space craft. They had to coordinate of course, but … he shook his head.
There was something to be said about a man couldn't have two masters. And that there shouldn't be two captains on one ship he mused. But it wasn't his problem. Besides, it had worked for ages, so obviously they knew how to get along.
It took an entire team to run a plane, not just the pilot. The pilot, sometimes a copilot and specialist or two depending on the class of the craft. Each plane had a plane captain, a noncom who was in charge of the craft's maintenance, loading, fuel, and care. Then there were specialists who stepped in to handle certain tasks like avionics repair, software, munitions, that sort of thing. Somewhere in all that the dumb A.I. had to fit in there he was sure.
No wonder a carrier had a large compliment, even the CEVs had a lot of manpower tied up in them he thought. And no wonder why they ran through so much fuel, parts, and munitions. The extra personnel tied up into each bird explained why the CEVs were having fits with the extra compliment they had on board. And why they sucked the logistics down on any tender that came alongside them.
He envied their machine shops, now that he'd had a chance to look them over. He'd seen plenty in his day, but the capital ships he'd been on didn't have those! A plane could be torn down to the frame and rebuilt with them. He looked around the compartment with the robot remote as he waited. He felt a tug as another user tapped on it. He relinquished control and got back to the here and now.
He wondered as he patiently waited for Commander Tong to finish up a conversation if the shipyard in Bek was producing carriers on the level of America and Argus. Hopefully … hopefully, the carriers would be the easiest to convert to starships too. Or, if they couldn't be converted, they'd serve as platforms to train the men and women who would serve on the starships to come he reminded himself.
Horatio rode as a guest in a remote bot flying along the ship's flank, then when it turned into a bay he jumped from its transmission to another bot as it went down Broadway. The remote stayed near the center of the massive passage. Like the flight II CEVs, both the floor and ceiling were being used to move traffic in an efficient manner, though it seemed odd to have the crew on the ceiling upside down to those on the floor. He shook his head and flipped his feed into another remote, but it went up to the dorsal deck so he pulled out of the feed and then back into an external remote once more.
A carrier he knew was a projection of force, either used for offense or defense. The carrier itself was virtually defenseless, one of the reasons he'd always disdained flying on one. But he'd taken Junior's advice and pushed through with the Kittyhawk class and he was glad now that he had. The CEVs had come in handy and had proven themselves.
But the war was getting serious and far more dangerous. The CEVs lacked the punch to handle a fleet engagement, hence the need for the larger carriers like America and Argus. They would need fleet trains and escorts to look after them he knew, but they were going to do a lot to shift the balance in the reborn Federation's favor.
At least, he hoped so. The ships and crews had a lot to prove he mused.
“Sorry about that, sir,” Hsu said as he came over to the commodore.
“No problem. I was touring the ship remotely,” Horatio said as he unjacked. “Got it covered?”
“I think so. I'll check in an hour or so to be sure of course,” Hsu replied with a confident shrug.
Horatio sized up his confidence and then nodded slowly. “It's always the fiddly bits that slow a project up. Getting the bugs out, the fine tuning … that sort of thing,” Horatio said, shaking his head.
“Yes, sir,” Hsu replied dutifully. He was the project manager in charge of the ship, the first of her class. He was writing the book on how to build the ship class. Fortunately, he'd just come off work on the light carrier line and was organized enough to keep up with the demand despite the need for so many assistants, both organic and electronic. “I'd just as soon see the back side of her, sir.”
“And get started on the next project?” Horatio teased, shooting the Hsu an amused look.
“Oh, we're already on our way with Righteous Swarm, sir. We're going to need the slip in another day or so,” Hsu admitted. “I don't want to stall her if Argus runs into a problem here,” he said.
Horatio nodded. Such things sometimes happened but it was a manager's job to keep it from happening as much as possible. Backups tended to stall an entire production line with negative consequences for all involved.
“So much for shifting some of your people over to help finish Collective Destiny,” the commodore teased. Collective Destiny was Argus's sister ship currently nearing completion in a neighboring building slip. Hsu shot him a horrified look. “What? Something I said?”
“Sir, you know damn well C'll'n'kk doesn't play nice with others. Every time I let her borrow something, or in this case someone, she doesn't return them! I have to beg or steal it back!”
Horatio chuckled. “I was planning on heading over there next if I've got the time. I'll tell her you said that,” he teased wickedly.
“You would,” Hsu said in mock disgust as he shook a fist at his boss. “Frack, she'll be unbearable,” he said, shaking his head as he let his fist drop to his side. “And she's bad enough as it is.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Horatio said, waving such considerations off. “Something tells m
e she's not going to be too much of a pain in the ass. Didn't I hear through the grapevine that the two of you had some sort of bet going on?” he asked slyly. Betting between the slips was common these days he thought. There were two major shipyard slips in the Pyrax yard, and each was filled with a fleet carrier at the moment. Both groups had pulled out all the stops to get their ship out of the dock and into the hands of the fitting yard first.
But they damn well knew they had to do it right or their crappy work would come back to haunt them. No cutting corners, no dangerous overlooked steps or loose ends. Get it right the first time or there would be hell to pay. Admiral Subert and Horatio had made certain they'd all known that. And they'd kept the inspection teams going to drive home the point.
“Why do you ask, sir?” Hsu asked cautiously.
Horatio snorted. He noted there was no evasion in the question, just a stall tactic. Typical of Hsu. He liked to keep his tricks close to the vest. “Oh, just wondering what you promised your people if you won. Beyond bragging rights of course.”
“As it happens,” Hsu swelled with mock dignity. “An open bar tap at O'shay's was on the line. I … might have let that slip to a supervisor or two. I don't know how it got around to the rank and file though,” he said virtuously.
“Heavy and expensive with this crew … wow,” Horatio said, shaking his head. “High stakes indeed knowing some of the hollow legs here,” he said. Hsu grinned impishly. “She's going to regret not cracking the whip harder,” he said thoughtfully.
“To be honest she did the best she could, given the circumstances. I spotted her three days since we had that much of a lead on her.”
“Generous of you,” Horatio said with a grin. “Since by that time, your people had hit their stride and knew what they were doing and she was just starting out,” he said. “And I think she didn't poach as many people from you as she'd liked to have. You had a lot more experienced people, given they've all had a hand in building smaller carriers.”
Hsu spread his hands in supplication. “Not my fault, sir. She didn't get all green horns. We just have different ways of doing the same job I think.” He didn't want to admit that he'd almost let the bug talk him into doubling down with a barbeque. He'd been tempted, but a few hiccups had made him think twice. He was now glad he'd bowed out, even if she'd ribbed him a bit about it.
Horatio snorted. “Well, don't be too surprised when she sends her spies around to figure out how many corners you are cutting so she can replicate it. And she'll want to double down,” he said.
It was Hsu's turn to grin. His eyes twinkled. “She's welcome to try, sir, but I know we'll still kick her ass. I've got a good crew.”
“I see that,” Horatio said with a nod.
He didn't have much long to wait before the commander cleared his throat. “Um, sir, Argus will be ready to fly in two days, right? I mean, at least go out on builders’ trials?” he asked plaintively. “I've got the timing down to the minute …,” he paused when Horatio's chuckles interrupted him. “What? What's so funny, sir?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Horatio said, waving the other man off. “So, we're waiting on her shipment of fighters and other craft to fill out her compliment I understand. The powers that be are polling the fortresses and other ships for veteran pilots to fill in her upper ranks, but they are all starting with new ships.”
Hsu grimaced. “That means they'll have to break them in,” he mused. After a moment of thinking that sort of problem over he shrugged. “Hell, not my problem.”
“Well, it will be someone's. The shipment is arriving on the next scheduled convoy I believe. Which,” Horatio frowned as he checked his implants, “should be jumping in by the end of this shift. So, we'll see them in three days. Just in time for her launch I think.”
“A day or so after. She'll be in the fitting slip by then,” Hsu replied. “Not my problem,” he said with another smile.
“Right. And neither is finding her crew. And her skipper. I'm still working on that,” Horatio admitted.
“Wait, I thought that was BuPers problem?” Hsu asked.
“It is. But I dabble,” Horatio admitted. He had settled on one candidate after thinking about the options. He'd settled on Junior Valdez for a variety of reasons. Getting it past BuPers shouldn't be a problem he thought. Selling it to both Junior and Subert though …. He decided Junior would be easier.
“Meddling you mean,” Hsu snorted, bringing him back into the conversation again. “Be careful boss, they might want you over there,” he said, shaking a finger at Horatio.
“Perish the thought,” Horatio retorted.
“Anything about our Bek friends?” Hsu asked, clearly anxious.
Horatio shrugged. “They are still being debriefed by the powers that be I believe. We'll see them eventually. I'll give them a tour.”
“You would just to get out of doing paperwork,” Hsu replied in amusement. “You know most people have aides and such for niggling things like that boss,” he said.
Horatio snorted. “Yeah, but as you said, I get to get out and look around,” he said as his implants pinged.
“Last call for the shuttle. Gotta go. I guess I'll have to check on Collective Destiny and tattle on you some other time,” Horatio said. He shook hands with Hsu. “Damn good work here.”
“Awe shucks,” Hsu said as they shook hands. “Stay safe, sir.”
“It's space. It's the navy,” Horatio replied.
“Exactly my point,” Hsu said as Horatio departed.
~<><{<^>}><>~
“How is Argus doing, sir?” Commander Saul Garretaj asked as he met the commodore at the airlock.
Horatio stopped his forward progress for a moment then snorted. “Am I that predictable, Commander?” he demanded, instinctively moving to one side to let others behind him pass by.
Saul shrugged. “I know you like to finish your check of the yard with the ships about to launch. You usually end it with the one that is closest to launch. Ergo, Argus. It sort of puts a cap on it and ends on a high note.”
“Making it a pleasant task in the end in other words?” Horatio asked with a smile. He wasn't ready to admit the tours weren't tedious to him. He enjoyed being in the slips. What he didn't enjoy was the transit time in between, or the spot inspections he was supposed to perform or the backlog of paperwork that inevitably piled up in his absence. “Sort of. I check each slip and spot-check each module section randomly or mostly random,” Horatio admitted as he indicated they should proceed.
Saul nodded thoughtfully. “Almost randomly, sir?” he asked.
“Well, I've learned to read between the lines. To also pay attention to the scuttlebutt and to check into potential trouble spots. Sometimes a spot-check at the right time can cool heads and get people paying more attention to what they're doing,” he admitted.
“And let you get eyes on problems so you can decide on the spot what to do about them, sir?” Saul asked.
“Something like that,” Horatio admitted. “What's up?”
“Admiral Subert sent me along to check on you. Specifically, to, and I quote, run him down, drag him kicking and screaming to get cleaned up, and then detail a marine escort if necessary to get him to the party,” he said with a straight face.
“You forgot the end quote there,” Horatio replied with a chuckle. “Okay, okay, I'll behave.”
“You'd better. You know he likes all his people on deck for occasions like this. And I've got to get moving myself since I'm the one handling the organization and execution of it,” the chief of staff said, shaking his head.
“You could have delegated,” the commodore replied mildly.
It was Saul's turn to snort. “As if. I know you, sir. Anyone else wouldn't have the voltage to get the message through to you. You're probably dreaming up all sorts of ways to get out of this.”
“Maybe,” Horatio said without admitting too much. “But I'm not like Admiral Irons. I can handle the occasional party. I even enjoy them if they are
fun,” he said.
“This isn't going to be fun. Its work, just in a stuffy uniform and keeping a straight face as you make dinner conversation with people more interested in talking to our Bekian guests and eating rubber chicken until you gag,” Saul said.
“Lucky us,” Horatio replied with a grimace.
“Yes. See you there?” the commander demanded. “I think he was serious about the marine thing, sir.”
“With bells on. Tell Admiral Subert aye aye, sir,” Horatio replied solemnly.
Saul sized him up and then nodded curtly. “Good.” He cocked his head. “Sir.”
“Dismissed, Commander,” the commodore said, motioning him to get moving. “I don't want you to miss your own party,” he teased.
Saul gave him a wary look and then got out while the getting was good.
Horatio inhaled and then exhaled heavily. Damn it, now he was committed he thought.
~<><{<^>}><>~
The party was just as boring and dull as he'd feared. Stuffed shirts all milling about, drinking wine or champagne and patting themselves on the back for the achievements of men and women and neuters who were out there still busting their asses for low pay and little regard.
But, that was how civilization worked, Horatio knew. He also knew as much as he detested such events they were useful and in some ways critical. It allowed the movers and shakers to socialize and to get to know one another in a formal and structured situation but without a lot of pressure. At least, he hoped so.
He was also well aware that he was going to have to put up with more and more of them the higher he climbed in the navy's chain of command. That was a depressing thought he realized.
The good news for him was that the civilians and junior officers were still enamored with the Bekian delegation. Each had a knot of eager people chattering with them or listening to every word they said. “Um …,” he turned in surprise to a woman with flat black skin and white markings. She had a sheer gown on with crystals that just covered her private areas tantalizingly. He smiled politely. “Yes, ma'am?”