Chapter 12

Families R&D Center

Marine Third Officer Roberta Sinclair crawled from under the small metal rack propped up on the proving ground and slapped the loose dirt from her uniform. “All right,” she said, “I follow the concept so far. Instead of using fish cortexes, you used those from birds, falcons in this case. Good idea. Takes a load off the fish farms, and you should have no problem incubating enough eggs for full production of your guidance brains. What’s the problem?”

“I meant it as an anti-air attack system,” the physicist explained. “I was reading a report of the fighting on Home during the Raid, and I was struck by the way the Idenux used landers and fighters as airborne support after they had dropped off their troops. We won’t always have fighters around. Pilots were in short supply then and even more so now. I thought throwing missiles at the Idenux would help. But they could probably defeat any single missile we launch, so I thought, give them lots of targets so they might not be able to knock them all down. I wanted something cheap, too, so we could mass-produce them and put them in all the towns and holdings as a defense. Landers and enemy fighters can’t hurt us if they’re lying on the ground burning.”

That was remarkably sound reasoning, Robbie decided. And, miracle of miracles, it came from a physicist here at R&D. Maybe assigning some of them to read and summarize After-Action Reports had been a good idea after all. Then she remembered some of the other solutions these gals had come up with after reading those reports. Like everything else at this place, results were mixed.

“What’s the problem, then?” she repeated. “This rack of missiles is portable. Looks like any aircar could carry it, maybe even somebody in powered armor. You’ve made it modular, so it reloads fast, and the missiles don’t interfere with each other during launch--you’ve solved that problem by ejecting them from the rack with CO2. Seems to me like a solution looking for a target. I know some gals who can find those for you.”

The physicist searched around in the sky above them. She was looking for something specific, but Robbie couldn’t see what it was. “Why don’t we take cover?” the physicist said. “I can describe it better if I show you.”

Robbie followed her into the control bunker. The physicist watched the sky through her cameras. Finally, she launched a drone from the other end of the range. The drone raced towards the bunker, dodging from side to side. The physicist flipped up a safety cover and pushed the launch switch.

A second later, 49 missiles leaped out of her rack, igniting in a tumbling billow of smoke and arcing into the blue sky. Robbie followed their flight on the vidscreen. It was like a flock of birds as they burst from cover. The missiles maneuvered together almost as if they shared one mind. Many homed in on the drone; a couple wandered off or fell to the ground. But a few ... There was a quail flitting from one rock to another, probably looking for lunch, and some of the missiles went for it.

“Oh,” Robbie exclaimed after the last explosion. “Oh, my. That was ... that was...” She stopped, tongue-tied. “That poor bird.”

“The falcon cortex homes in on anything flying,” the physicist explained. She sighed. “That’s the third bird in the last 10 days. I tried different cortexes; you should see what a hawk cortex does to a rabbit--well, maybe not. There’s nothing left but gravel and fluff. I don’t know what to do, ma’am. Can you help?”

Robbie looked at the still-smoking quail fragments and shook her head. In a way, it had been impressive. The quail had twisted and turned frantically, trying to avoid the missiles. But one of them had caught it anyway, and then the others had slammed into the remains.

“I don’t know what to tell you now,” she said at last. “Poor bird.”

“Yes.” The physicist sighed again. “I’m getting so I hate the sight of birds for dinner.”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Robbie said. “I just don’t know what.”

Families Navy Command & Staff School

“The main thing you’ll notice about a PSK ship,” Corey said, “is its lack of point defense clusters. A PSK battleship, their largest combat ship, has three arrays, and their cruisers have two. PSK destroyers, which are the closest in performance to our escorts, have one point defense array for their own defense and a variety of light weapons that can double in that capacity.” She looked over her class, judging their reactions: they were all monumentally unimpressed.

“This is not an oversight. PSK antimissile tactics do not rely upon their point defenses. They use a layered system of defenses involving antimissiles, active scan, and anti-seeker jamming. When a PSK ship detects an approaching salvo of missiles, they first seek to confuse their targeting with drones and electronic jamming. The enemy missiles that penetrate this first layer of defense are engaged, still at a distance, by volleys of small, fast antimissiles.

“When I first saw these antimissiles, I thought they used them the same way we use the cats, but that is not the case. These missiles are expendable munitions that they launch as needed. They cannot be maintained as a standing patrol around PSK ships. The PSK substitutes frequent and very active scanning for the sort of standing patrol our cats provide.

“PSK antimissile defenses are controlled entirely from a central location on each ship. This means those controls are susceptible to the same damage chances as the rest of the ship. Second, there is a limited supply of antimissiles. When they are exhausted, the ship’s defenses are reduced. The PSK counters this through their linking of ships electronically so ships can assist each other. Third, this combination means that the PSK ships fight best when they have a known threat axis. While they can handle attacks from multiple directions, they don’t do it easily.

“From what I have observed, Imperial warships are designed and built with similar operational concepts.”

Corey paced slowly in front of her class. So much was happening inside and outside this classroom that it was hard to keep her mind on the subject. Some days it seemed like only a short time had passed since she had been Student Corey Andersen, sitting in this same room listening to Captain Alexander’s lectures. Now a dozen earnest faces stared up at Captain Corey Andersen, watching her every move, almost literally hanging on her every word.

In her meeting at the start of the term, Captain Taylor, the Eldest of the school, had very briefly expressed her desires. “This is temporary, but important, Corey. You have more experience working with the PSK ships than anyone else. We want you to spend a month or so transferring as much of that experience as you can to these students. At the end of the month, you can get back to doing what you do best.”

“And what is my next assignment?” Corey asked. “Captain Monterra wouldn’t tell me anything. She just posted me to you, not that I’m objecting. Has anybody given you any clues? You’re better wired in than anyone who isn’t a Senior.”

“You give me too much credit, Corey,” Captain Taylor said, laughing. “No, they haven’t told me anything, and you don’t want my guesses. All they’ve told me is that I can have you for a month. After that, you’re headed for a fleet assignment. Until then, we’ll do our best to drain your brain. Captain Alexander will introduce you to your class at 0900 Fleet Time, day after tomorrow.”

“Good,” Corey said, nodding. “Bright and early. I get them before they have to concentrate on anything else.”

“That you will,” Captain Alexander promised. “Oh, and Corey? That first class, on the first day, you’ll wear your full dress uniform.” She smiled. “It’s a tradition for the instructors here at the School. After that, standard undress uniform.”

A year ago, even six months ago, she might have objected; she would have been uncomfortable wearing her full dress uniform with all of her decorations. Diplomatic duty had cured her of that. Sometimes you wanted people to pay attention to what you had to say, and a chest full of brass and ribbons could help that happen. Sometimes, when people paid attention, you could actually save a few lives or even win a few battles. “Full dress, aye,” she answered.

That first morning, when she’d been presented to the class, a visible stir had gone through the students. Every face turned to follow her as she walked to the front of the room after Louise Alexander’s introduction. They all know who I am, she thought. No surprise, I suppose the whole Fleet knows who I am.

She had smiled at the class, thanked Captain Alexander, and begun immediately by describing the PSK ships she knew and how the PSK intended that they be used. Then she went on to describe briefly how the PSK controlled and coordinated their ships. That presentation had taken several days. Now, finally, she was beginning to talk about the ships’ capabilities and how they could be coordinated with Families warships.

“Just because a PSK warship does not have the number of point defenses that ours do, don’t consider them weak. Their layered approach works well for the battles their ships are intended to fight. Their ships are highly compartmentalized, well armored, and designed to survive significantly more damage than ours. They pay a price for this.

“First, they take longer to build. A PSK shipyard takes at least a year to build their equivalent of one of our cruisers. Second, PSK ships take longer to repair. That is partly a design function, but it is also a conscious decision on their part. This allows them to upgrade items on their ships during the repair. This means that in any squadron it is very rare for ships of the same class to be identical. From what we’ve learned through PSK Intelligence, the Imperial Navy has a similar view.

“The other cost of bigger, heavier warships is, as you would expect, mass. While their engines are every bit as powerful as ours, the PSK cruisers I served on had a maximum acceleration of 270 Gs. Their destroyers, which mass somewhere between an escort and a cruiser, had a maximum acceleration of 315 Gs, though I understand their newest class of ships reached 340 Gs during builder’s trials. Their largest ships, their battleships, have accelerations that peak out at 220 Gs, but they limit them to 200 Gs to save their engines.