“It’s a complex problem, sir, what you just asked. I’m guessing we will do this again, so I’ll save the program for later. In fact, I’ll refine it over the next day or two and create a menu of attacks, now that I understand what you want.”
Absen cocked an eye in Ford’s direction. “And what do I want?”
“You want to pulse in, blast away, and pulse back out as soon as things get hot, I presume. We’re testing tactics.”
“That’s correct, Mister Ford. I knew I kept you around for a reason.”
Ford smiled. “I have a rough program set up, sir. It will give us an idea of how well this will work, though as I said, I’ll refine it later.”
Absen said, “Make good use of your assistant weapons officer when we have one, Ford, and not just as backup. This kind of warfare will be more complex, relying on timing for effect, not just standing off and slugging it out the way we have until now. Include him or her in your program.”
“Will do, Skipper,” Ford replied absently, still setting up his program.
“All right. Now…” Absen glanced around at his officers. “What’s wrong with this picture?” He could already see Scoggins squirming in her crash chair, and he shook his head minutely at her.
She already knows the answer. Let’s see if anyone else does.
Fletcher at Engineering cleared his throat. “Well…we have to see to shoot.”
“Gold star, Mister Fletcher. Scoggins, set up a couple of programs. One will be like Ford’s, getting all your sensors out from under armor and back online as fast as you can, set to acquire targeting for Weapons. In another, I’ll want an array already deployed in sufficient numbers to lose a few modules and still give me eyes as soon as we exit TacDrive.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Perhaps CyberComm should do the same with the transceivers so we can pick up COMINT or friendly comms as quickly as possible,” Fletcher added, and the CyberComm watchstander nodded, tapping at his board.
Absen waited several minutes, sipping his coffee-flavored paint thinner in silence as his bridge crew busied themselves. Eventually all signaled ready. “Everyone button up. Engage TacDrive when ready, Mister Okuda.” He closed his faceplate. “COB, timer. Give me splits on the weapons firing.”
Timmons pulled out an ancient mechanical stopwatch on a lanyard and held it in front of him. “Aye sir.”
The master helmsman ran through the preparation sequence again, ending with, “TacDrive pulse in three, two, one…”
After it engaged, Absen deliberately moved his head a bit, testing the limits of the vertigo. It seemed just the same as the first time.
Probably take a few more before we either get used to it, or the cumulative effects get to us.
A bare handful of seconds later they dropped out of pulse. Officers spoke in terse rapid-fire phrases.
“Weapons uncovering.” Subsonic vibrations rumbled through the gimbaled bridge as enormous slabs of armor swung away from the firing ports of dozens of weapons, and the various lasers, particle beams and railguns ran out, muzzles questing.
“Sensors popping out.”
“Comms uncovering.”
“Target acquired.”
“Receiving comms.”
“Lasers firing.”
“We have optical.” The main screen blazed suddenly with a picture of an asteroid tumbling through the void.
“Particle beams firing.”
“Holotank updating.”
“Dahlgrens aiming…firing.”
The holotank swirled and finally steadied, showing Conquest and the asteroid near each other, Afrana beyond and off the starboard bow another AU out. Several seconds went by.
“Exploder drone launched.”
Timmons clicked his stopwatch with his left hand while scribbling with a pencil on a pad of paper with his right. The COB was old-school, eschewing tablets and touchscreens when he could. He checked the timepiece carefully, jotting down numbers for a moment more before dropping it to hang from its lanyard.
“Well?” Absen snapped.
“Lasers at 6.4 seconds.
Absen cocked an eye in Ford’s direction. “And what do I want?”
“You want to pulse in, blast away, and pulse back out as soon as things get hot, I presume. We’re testing tactics.”
“That’s correct, Mister Ford. I knew I kept you around for a reason.”
Ford smiled. “I have a rough program set up, sir. It will give us an idea of how well this will work, though as I said, I’ll refine it later.”
Absen said, “Make good use of your assistant weapons officer when we have one, Ford, and not just as backup. This kind of warfare will be more complex, relying on timing for effect, not just standing off and slugging it out the way we have until now. Include him or her in your program.”
“Will do, Skipper,” Ford replied absently, still setting up his program.
“All right. Now…” Absen glanced around at his officers. “What’s wrong with this picture?” He could already see Scoggins squirming in her crash chair, and he shook his head minutely at her.
She already knows the answer. Let’s see if anyone else does.
Fletcher at Engineering cleared his throat. “Well…we have to see to shoot.”
“Gold star, Mister Fletcher. Scoggins, set up a couple of programs. One will be like Ford’s, getting all your sensors out from under armor and back online as fast as you can, set to acquire targeting for Weapons. In another, I’ll want an array already deployed in sufficient numbers to lose a few modules and still give me eyes as soon as we exit TacDrive.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Perhaps CyberComm should do the same with the transceivers so we can pick up COMINT or friendly comms as quickly as possible,” Fletcher added, and the CyberComm watchstander nodded, tapping at his board.
Absen waited several minutes, sipping his coffee-flavored paint thinner in silence as his bridge crew busied themselves. Eventually all signaled ready. “Everyone button up. Engage TacDrive when ready, Mister Okuda.” He closed his faceplate. “COB, timer. Give me splits on the weapons firing.”
Timmons pulled out an ancient mechanical stopwatch on a lanyard and held it in front of him. “Aye sir.”
The master helmsman ran through the preparation sequence again, ending with, “TacDrive pulse in three, two, one…”
After it engaged, Absen deliberately moved his head a bit, testing the limits of the vertigo. It seemed just the same as the first time.
Probably take a few more before we either get used to it, or the cumulative effects get to us.
A bare handful of seconds later they dropped out of pulse. Officers spoke in terse rapid-fire phrases.
“Weapons uncovering.” Subsonic vibrations rumbled through the gimbaled bridge as enormous slabs of armor swung away from the firing ports of dozens of weapons, and the various lasers, particle beams and railguns ran out, muzzles questing.
“Sensors popping out.”
“Comms uncovering.”
“Target acquired.”
“Receiving comms.”
“Lasers firing.”
“We have optical.” The main screen blazed suddenly with a picture of an asteroid tumbling through the void.
“Particle beams firing.”
“Holotank updating.”
“Dahlgrens aiming…firing.”
The holotank swirled and finally steadied, showing Conquest and the asteroid near each other, Afrana beyond and off the starboard bow another AU out. Several seconds went by.
“Exploder drone launched.”
Timmons clicked his stopwatch with his left hand while scribbling with a pencil on a pad of paper with his right. The COB was old-school, eschewing tablets and touchscreens when he could. He checked the timepiece carefully, jotting down numbers for a moment more before dropping it to hang from its lanyard.
“Well?” Absen snapped.
“Lasers at 6.4 seconds.
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