Chapter 16: Rhea

Bridge
MSS Shitkicker, Saturn Orbit
Thursday, July 8, 2151

“Anything new on the possible threat, Skipper?” asked Lieutenant Commander Hollis Buckhouser. Buckhouser was the Executive Officer of Shitkicker, an Improved-Seattle assigned to the Martian Rhea colony in orbit around Saturn.

“Nothing you don’t already know, Hollie. I talked to the Commodore this morning and she had nothing more in the daily brief from New Pittsburgh. I got the same from Captain Wright,” replied Commander Jacob Sassman, captain of Shitkicker. Joe Wright commanded Shitkicker’s sister ship, Clitlicker, currently docked at Whiting City.

Shitkicker had been built in Earth orbit by Ares Incorporated ten years before for the WestHem Navy and was christened Boston. She was a standard Seattle-class anti-stealth ship, designed to screen interplanetary convoys and fleets and to find and kill EastHem’s Henry-class stealth ships. Five years later, she was docked at Triad Naval Base when the Martian Revolution occurred. She was captured intact by the Martian Planetary Guard.

Initially the Martian Navy was little more than a name and a few hundred former WestHem enlisted sailors of Greenie birth who had volunteered to fight for Mars. Those sailors had been assigned to the captured Owl stealth ships, the only ships that Mars considered viable in battle when WestHem returned to Mars and tried to recapture it. Since then, however, the Martian Navy continued to grow, first to man the entire Martian fleet of captured Owls, and then to man the captured Seattles.

Along the way, the files at TNB were cracked open and the wishlists of the WestHem Navy were discovered. There were long lists and plans to improve Owls and Seattles, but WestHem had never done anything with them for budgetary reasons. Mars didn’t have the financial constraints WestHem did, but they had plenty of need to upgrade the ships. The result was what were practically two new classes of warship. The Improved-Owls were the Martian Navy’s primary offensive force, stealthier and more powerful than any other ship in the Solar System; a single I-Owl Mod Two could defeat any small- to medium-sized WestHem convoy or fleet.

The captured Seattles were also put through an improvement and upgrade cycle. Like with the Owls, improved stealth coatings were added, more sensitive and longer-ranged sensors were installed, and the anti-torpedo lasers were doubled and combined with improved fire control systems. Even their nuclear torpedoes were made stealthier, given longer range, and better engines. On paper, they were the best anti-stealth ships in the Solar System.

The problem was that no Martian captain had ever taken an Improved-Seattle into combat. The Martian Navy had eight I-Seattles and no chance of getting any more. Two were assigned to the defense of the Martian gas mine on Rhea and the attached colony of Whiting City. One was always in transit between Mars and Saturn, transferring personnel and bringing the latest upgrades and software. The other five were in Mars orbit, training with the I-Owl squadron and providing a final line of defense when the I-Owls were in combat with WestHem. They were manned by officers and sailors transferred from I-Owls so that they would have some experience on the bridge and throughout the squadron.

Shitkicker had been in Saturn orbit for five months and was scheduled to be replaced by Horn Dog, already in transit, in another three months. System command was in the hands of Commodore Amanda Honeysuckle. She had Shitkicker and Clitlicker assigned to system defense, along with three wings of F-22s and a wing of A-12s housed in the remnants of the California-class Procter City, now part of Whiting City.

The hope was that if WestHem got frisky, Martian Planetary Intelligence would figure it out in time to intercept the convoy with the I-Owls based in Mars orbit. A pair of Seattles, even Improved-Seattles, wouldn’t be enough to stop a WestHem fleet. Still, it was what they had available.

“What’s the latest on the drones we’ve dropped off?” asked Sassman.

“Nothing as of five minutes ago, Skipper.”

As part of the preparations for defending Saturn, transiting I-Seattles brought drones from SatFoundry of Triad City to Whiting City. These were the same drones that the I-Owls had used to help savage the WestHem fleet that had attacked Mars during Martian Justice. They combined an advanced sensor suite, a torpedo engine, a small fusion bottle, and laser communications, all combined with a stealth package. They were designed to be carried in a nuclear torpedo launch tube, two per tube. Not every officer wanted to give up a torpedo, but simulations had shown they doubled the chances of surviving an encounter with an enemy ship. Drones had been dropped in the outer Saturn orbits on the direct path between Jupiter and Saturn.

“Uh, excuse me, but I just got a flicker on a thermal band between us and Earth.” Buckhouser and Sassman turned towards the tactical officer, Lieutenant Rory Rorhouseman. “It just came up as you were asking.” Thirty seconds later she said, “And it’s gone.”

Sassman looked at his Exec, who simply shrugged. A flicker in the thermal bands could mean anything from a few stray photons from Saturn’s outer rings to a full-blown invasion fleet just coming into range. Sassman returned the shrug. You always had to honor the threat. “Engineering, dump waste heat and kill the grav plates. Navigation, .01Gs sideways, course eighty-eight mark two.”

Buckhouser looked at the tactical officer and ordered, “Plot the flicker in the tank.” The tank was a holographic display of the Saturn system. Rorhouseman tapped her console and a light popped up in the display. He studied it for a moment and told Sassman, “Well, at least this one is in the right neighborhood.”

The captain snorted out a laugh. A thermal flicker occurred roughly once a day, occasionally more often, and all had to be treated as possible incursions. No matter what, the response was the same. Dump waste heat at the greatest possible distance, so that any potential aggressor wouldn’t find them when they got closer. Shut down the grav plates so grav detectors wouldn’t be able to latch on to the ship. Finally, maneuver to the side so that if the enemy had detected you before you dumped heat and shut down your gravity, you’d be somewhere they weren’t expecting.

When the intelligence from EastHem was first examined in January, a warning was sent to Saturn, along with a potential timeline. Different scenarios were examined, from a maximum-acceleration fuel-intensive orbit to the most fuel-efficient orbits. The quickest possible arrival of a Henry was in early April, with the slowest, most fuel-efficient orbit having a Henry arrive in June.

Since then, further intelligence was pieced together from both EastHem and WestHem sources. The WestHem Navy had a major concentration in Jovian space defending their gas mine on Ganymede. They tracked all EastHem ships at EastHem’s Callisto gas facility. Combined with the EastHem Order of Battle as developed from both WestHem and EastHem intelligence, a short list of possible Henrys was created. Four Henrys were missing from either Jovian space or Earth orbit, which simply meant they were in transit somewhere in the Solar System. Lionheart, Charlemagne, Gustavus Adolphus, and Frederick Magnus were somewhere between Jupiter and Saturn, at that point almost diametrically opposite each other in their orbits.

“What’s your favorite attack plan if you were commanding a Henry?” asked Sassman of his Exec. It was a game they played frequently.

Buckhouser smiled and gave his standard answer. “It all depends on whether they know we’re here or not. If I knew we had a detachment of the Martian Navy here, I’d be going for a sneaky approach. If I knew we didn’t have a detachment here, I’d go straight in. It all comes down to whether they know we’re here; by we, I mean any Seattles. They know we brought a California here, so they have to assume we brought some fighters.”

Rorhouseman interjected, “No way would F-22s be operating out here. They’re orbital fighters, short range only.”

Sassman smiled and said, “Throw Rhea and the flight range of an F-22 into the tank.” Another light showed up in the hologram, along with a faint red globe surrounding it. “So, Rory, assume you don’t know about us. Plot your attack. Assume a run of the mill Henry.”

“Okey dokey!” She manipulated her console and a blue line appeared from a point outside of the orbits of Saturn’s moons and extending towards the red globe. Just outside the perimeter of the globe, the blue line angled away. “I’d come straight in under total stealth. Here at the inflection point, I launch every torpedo I have at Rhea, then I angle off to the side. I also make sure I make the approach while Rhea is on the sun side of its orbit and not on the dark side.” A series of faint blue lines went from the inflection point towards the center of the globe. “One of the torpedoes should hit the colony. Any single nuclear torpedo would destroy both the mine and the city.”

“And what if you were commanding an Improved-Owl Mod Two?” asked Buckhouser.

Rorhouseman smiled. “That’s different!” She manipulated the display. The blue line never angled to approach Rhea, instead it went straight at a tangent to the red globe. “I go for a tangential approach, ten percent farther than any possible detection and attack range of an F-22. Then, here, and here, I drop off a pair of Mod Two torpedo pods on a ballistic intercept, one pod at each point. When they get to one thousand klicks, I blow the pods and order all twelve torpedoes to go active on full acceleration. They’ll be at Rhea before the F-22s could even launch!” The simulation reacted as she described it.

“It’s good to know you’re on our side, Rory,” laughed Sassman.

She smiled. “You know it!” She clicked a few icons on her display and the attack vectors and defensive globe disappeared from the hologram, leaving them with just a representation of the Saturn system. A faint blue light flickered in the tank.

Sassman stared at it, though Buckhouser was looking away. “Rory?”

The tactical officer manipulated her controls and said, “Skipper, that flicker is back.”

The Exec turned back to the holo tank. “Boss?”

“The flicker seems to be holding,” said Rorhouseman.

The captain said, “Launch a drone and push it out on an intercept course. How far out is that flicker, assuming it’s not a flicker?”

“Thirteen hours, and it’s on a direct course from Jupiter. It’s not quite the most fuel-efficient orbit,” answered Rorhouseman. “I think they modified it to make sure Rhea was sun-side and not dark-side.”

“Plot out possible attack courses.”

That took the young lieutenant several minutes, but a narrow blue cone appeared in the display. “If this is a Henry, they approach and launch from somewhere on this cone and then push sideways. They end up going past Saturn before decelerating and heading back in-system. By then, though, they will know if they hit Rhea.”

“Plot how we should respond.”

She looked at him. “Sir, firing on a Henry would be an act of war. We aren’t at war with EastHem.”

“You want to bet Rhea on that?” he asked.

Rorhouseman gulped and nodded. She manipulated her controls. A red line appeared showing the potential path of the Shitkicker. “Optimal torpedo range is here. If we close to laser range and disable them, it’s here.”

“Let’s hope it’s just a flicker.” He turned to his Exec and said, “Keep gravity off and keep dumping heat until we know what that flicker is. I’m going down to the mess for some lunch, and then I’ll tour the ship.”

“Roger that, Skipper.”

Two hours later, the Exec tracked Sassman down in Main Engineering and called him there. “It’s not a flicker, boss. It’s a Henry.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

Sassman stopped in the mess on the way back to the bridge to catch a bulb of coffee. He floated back onto the bridge and strapped into the command chair. “What do we have, Hollie?”

The Exec nodded to Rory and the young woman sent an image to the main monitor. “It’s definite, Jake. We’ve had two heat dumps from that flicker, and both are in the spectrum of a Henry venting waste heat. Signal analysis says it’s probably Gustavus Adolphus.” The I-Owls orbiting Earth recorded and analyzed the transmissions of every WestHem and EastHem ship in orbit; each ship, even of the same class, had a slightly different radiation signature.

“They’re on a direct path towards Rhea,” added Rory.

“Show me,” he ordered. The holo tank filled with a display of the Saturn system and the positions and courses of Shitkicker and the Henry. “It’s a direct course to Rhea. Rory, plot me a course to best intercept position for a torpedo launch.”

She gave him a nervous look. “Uh, we are not at war with EastHem.”

“I know that.”

“Captain, if we fire on that ship, we might well be committing a war crime.”

Sassman looked at his tactical officer and replied, “Maybe, maybe not. This system has been declared a military and naval exclusion zone, and EastHem has been so informed. I don’t know why they visited, not entirely, but they aren’t supposed to be here, and I will be damned if I am going to let an armed foreign warship come waltzing through the system.”

“Uh...”

“Rory, you were just a toddler the last time EastHem warships visited Martian space, during the Jupiter War, and they attacked our cities. I was a teenager then, and I remember it well. There are ten thousand Martians in this system, and it won’t happen again, not on my watch.”

“Understood.”

Bridge
EHSS Gustavus Adolphus, Saturn Approach
Thursday, July 8, 2151