Chapter 26: Roman Gods

Senior Conference Room A

Triad Naval Base, Mars Orbit

Wednesday, March 13, 2154

Matt Belting looked at the officers in the room. His audience was Commodore Ron Bales, commander of Anti-Stealth Squadron One, and the commanding officers of the five ships in the squadron in Mars orbit. Anti-Stealth Squadron One consisted of eight Improved-Seattles, but two were always on patrol in the Saturn orbitals and one was always in transit to or from Saturn. That left five in Mars orbit.

“It’s official. We are putting the Improved-Seattles to the test. For the last year, you guys have been running simulations and doing war games with the I-Owls. Shitkicker did a nice job with that Henry in Saturn a few years ago. Now you get to do it with WestHem, for real.”

“What’s the assignment and the timetable?” asked Bales.

“Next week good? It’s going to be two separate operations, so timing will be a bit tricky.”

“Ceres? Or Jupiter?”

“Both.”

There was a murmur around the conference table, along with some smiles. Commander Gordie Freehaul said, “Split Beaver is ready to go.” The others all chimed in as well.

Belting smiled. “I need four Seattles, so somebody is going to be disappointed. Fudge Packer and Upskirt are at Rhea and Shitkicker is transiting to Saturn, so they’re not in the running. We are sending Cockblocker and Clitlicker to Ceres, and Split Beaver and Horn Dog to Jupiter.” He looked down the table and added, “Sorry, Jack, you and Hardon are going to be stuck here at Mars.”

Jack Crockett took the razzing with good humor. “We also serve who sit around and get laid in Triad.”

Bales spoke up. “Jupiter is obviously the farthest target, so Gordie, you and Robyn need to launch first. Robyn, Gordie’s been in command longer, so he’ll be the Task Force CO. We are calling you Task Force Fuel Tank. Task Force Gold Mine is Gail and Joe; Gail, you’re in command.”

With that, Bales grabbed the remote and put the planning on the monitor, including an overhead view of the Solar System. Mars was approaching the nearest point to Jupiter and at the closest point to Ceres. Fuel Tank would take almost three months in transit, but Gold Mine was six weeks at most. “We want to hit both targets at the same time, June 15. It would be best if we could coordinate the attacks to within half an hour of each other, if not closer. What we don’t want is somebody to jump the gun and allow the other location to prepare above and beyond their regular pattern.”

“Targets?” asked Gail Watanabe of Cockblocker.

Belting spoke up. “Let me be extremely clear on this, to all of you. Both Fuel Tank and Gold Mine are to target military targets only. We are not targeting either the Ganymede gas mine or the Ceres mining and refining center. These facilities are to be considered as civilian facilities and are not to be targeted. Let me repeat that. We do not want to be targeting civilians. We do not want either WestHem or EastHem to think that we consider civilians legitimate targets. If an entire fleet is refueling at the Ganymede tank farm, they cannot be targeted.”

A murmur of agreement came from around the table.

Gordie asked, “Why now? We could have done this at any point in the last eighteen months.”

“WestHem force allocations. An Improved-Seattle is an excellent platform, but not quite as stealthy or powerful as an Improved-Owl. It was always possible the WestHem Navy could detect you. Now, however, they are dragging anything at all modern back to Earth, and they are rotating their mothball fleet to Jupiter and Ceres. Not only are they going to be less likely to detect you, but they are also less likely to be able to stop you. I want you to kill as many ships as possible. I want both WestHem and EastHem to realize that the Martian Navy can and will go wherever it wants, and that the Martian Navy is now the big kid on the block.”

“Yes!”

“After hitting Jupiter, Fuel Tank will burn for Saturn. I don’t care if you arrive with empty tanks. A freighter will be waiting to reload your magazines and resupply you. I don’t want somebody on Earth deciding to do a Fuel Tank on us.” He turned towards the commanders of Cockblocker and Clitlicker. “You two are coming back home. You’ll refuel and rearm and defend against Martian Vengeance.”

Yeah,” said both Watanabe and Wright.

“Now, let’s get down to the details.”

Bridge

MSS Split Beaver, Ganymede

Friday, June 14, 2154

TO: MSS SPLIT BEAVER, COMMANDER GORDON FREEHAUL

FROM: MARTIAN NAVAL COMMAND (NAVCOM), ADMIRAL MATTHEW BELTING

TASK FORCE FUEL TANK DESIGNATED AS MSS SPLIT BEAVER AND MSS HORN DOG, COMMANDER FREEHAUL COMMANDING.

ORDERS FOR TF FUEL TANK DEPLOYMENT ARE AS FOLLOWS:

PROCEED UNDER STEALTH CONDITIONS TO JUPITER AND DECELERATE TO GANYMEDE ORBIT.

DETERMINE POSITIONS OF ALL WESTHEM MILITARY ASSETS. REPORT ALL WESTHEM ASSETS TO NAVCOM VIA STANDARD PROCEDURES DAILY OR AS NEEDED. PREPARE FOR COMBAT TARGETING WESTHEM MILITARY ASSETS.

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT:

PARAGRAPH ONE - WEAPONS TIGHT. FIRE IN SELF-DEFENSE ONLY. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES FIRE ON GANYMEDE GAS MINING FACILITY OR CIVILIAN ASSETS.

PARAGRAPH TWO - AT TIME TO BE DETERMINED, DESTROY ALL MILITARY TARGETS WITHIN CONSTRAINTS OF PARAGRAPH ONE.

FOLLOWING CONCLUSION OF OPERATION FUEL TANK, TRANSIT TO SATURN AND RHEA COLONY. AWAIT FURTHER ORDERS THERE.

STANDING BY TO EVACUATE ANY CREWMEMBERS UNWILLING TO GO ON THIS MISSION. PLEASE ADVISE ANY CREWMEMBERS ELECTING TO REMAIN THAT, FOR SHIP SECURITY, THEY WILL BE HELD IN ISOLATION UNTIL SUCH TIME AS TASK FORCE RETURNS.

AWAITING YOUR REPLY, NAVCOM.

MESSAGE ENDS.

“You know, Gordie, I’ve heard about a target rich environment, but you just don’t believe it until you see it,” said an awestruck Lieutenant Commander Ruthie Boggart, Split Beaver’s Executive Officer.

“I know what you mean. I could bring half the fleet here and not have enough torpedoes!” replied Commander Gordie Freehaul, Captain of the Split Beaver and commander of Task Force Fuel Tank.

Both officers were staring at the plot of the Ganymede complex. WestHem had been developing the Jovian moon for well over fifty years. In addition to the gigantic gas mining facility and the largest WestHem fleet base outside of Earth orbit, there was also a civilian city and a tourist industry, with liners going back and forth to Departure City in Earth orbit.

“So, what do we do?”

“Well, we can’t attack the gas mine or the city, but we can certainly kill the main base and any of the warships around it. Belting was right. WestHem is rotating out their good stuff and rotating in their mothball fleet,” said Gordie.

“So, we have a plan for this? Something other than kill them all and let Graves Registration sort them out?”

“Not really.” He thought for a second and said, “Jessup, if we launch torpedoes on a low velocity, low acceleration profile, could we slip them in among all the other junk we’re seeing?”

Lieutenant Jessup Walthorp, the Tactical Officer, nodded slowly. “Maybe.”

“Sort it out with your counterpart on Horn Dog. We need to figure this out today, even if it’s just ‘We’ll take this side, and they’ll take that side.’”

“I’m on it.”

Gordie then said, “Comms, get me Horn Dog.”

Fifteen seconds later, Robyn Boston was on Gordie’s screen. “You seeing what I’m seeing, Robyn?”

“An I-Owl’s wet dream? Yeah, I’m seeing it. I’m just not believing it,” she replied.

Gordie smiled and nodded. “Too bad Mars doesn’t have any spare Owls hanging around. We’ll just have to make do with a pair of little old Seattles. First steps first. We need the kids to sort out who is out there and where. Then we can come up with an attack plan. And then we need to run it all past Triad. I don’t see an attack happening until tomorrow.”

“Gordie, we made it here without WestHem knowing we’re here. There is no reason we can’t show the Owl drivers that we’re not just the second stringers.”

“I like the way you think. As soon as the TOs come up with something, contact me and we’ll make a plan.”

“Roger that!”

Gordie cut the connection and told his bridge team, “Exec has the Bridge. I’m going to grab some chow and a shower.” He floated out of his command chair and off the bridge.

Three hours later Commander Freehaul was summoned back to the bridge. “What’s up?” he asked as he strapped into his command chair.

“We’re ready for that command moment, Skipper,” said Ruthie. “Jessup and his counterpart on Horn Dog have some ideas.”

“Let’s get Robyn and her people on the screen. Prepare to throw everything into the tank.”

It was less than a minute before Robyn Boston was on the screen, along with a young lieutenant. “Gordie, this is Bill Walston, my TO. Billie, you and Jessup are on.”

“Okay. The first step was to identify and categorize all the ships and facilities here in Ganymede vicinity.” The holo tank filled with a variety of multicolored dots. “Gold is Ganymede proper. Purple is all the stuff we aren’t allowed to kill, the gas mine, the civilian city, a pair of cruise liners, and all the tankers, which are civilian owned.” Various colored dots flashed brighter in succession as Walston mentioned them. “The tankers are all over the place as they cycle in and out from the refinery. Otherwise, the civilian stuff is all in this one section near Ganymede.”

Jessup continued, “The red dots are us and Horn Dog. The blue dots are the naval base and the WestHem fleet. Some of the ships are docked at the base and some are in these two clumps, here ... and here. Those seem to be flotilla commands. Finally, we have a loose screen of ships surrounding everything in a globe formation.”

Gordie studied the formations. The two little red dots looked awfully lonely. “So, what’s your plan?”

Jessup glanced at his counterpart and continued. “We’re going to split the formation in half. Horn Dog is going to take stuff on this side and the Beaver’s going to take the other side.” A translucent plane split the display, cutting the naval base in half. “We are both going to fire at the base. In addition to the base, at least one California and a pair of Argentinas are based there, and we think a pair of Edisons as well. A couple of torpedoes should take out every ship in fifty klicks.”

Aside from the California, the ships were all second-rate ships brought out of mothballs to free up more modern ships for the Martian Vengeance campaign. The Argentinas were dreadnoughts built by WestHem Shipbuilding. WestHem Shipbuilding made a lot of money building mediocre ships that were obsolete the day they were launched, but that WestHem Shipbuilding could coerce their sponsored politicians to buy. When Ares Incorporated bought WestHem Shipbuilding, they retired the old designs and ordered their sponsored politicians to buy the much more capable California-class super-dreadnoughts. The same happened with WestHem Shipbuilding’s Edison-class anti-stealth ships and Ares’ Seattles, and the Cheney/Owl series of stealth ships.

Gordie said, “We have two dozen torpedoes each, but I don’t want to use more than twenty each. I don’t know what is going to be involved in getting away from here, but I don’t want to do it unarmed.”

Robyn nodded, and Jessup looked at Bill Walston. “While that might change our target selection, it doesn’t change the attack method. What we are proposing is a simple ballistic attack. We back off and launch from extreme range, then shut down the torpedo’s engine. The torpedo coasts in on a ballistic track without any sensors operating. Even better, we bury the trajectories with the regular trajectories of ships crossing the system. Then, when they get close enough, activate the sensors and open the engines up, full blast. They will have less than a minute of reaction time.”

Walston spoke up. “Their deployment is oriented towards EastHem in Callisto. Their satellites and detection assets are aimed at either Earth or Callisto; that’s why they have two flotillas set up. They simply aren’t considering a third party sticking their nose in.”

“Alright, we want to hammer that base. That’s where their command staff is. We hit them first, that buys us an extra fifteen to thirty seconds,” said Robyn.

“Two torpedoes from each of us,” said a nodding Gordie. “The other eighteen we use on those two flotillas, no more than one shot per target. Give me a target list and I’ll send it back to the Admiral. When do we need to do this by?”

Jessup shook his head. “When do you want the warheads detonating? From time of launch to time of final torpedo activation is thirteen hours forty-seven minutes. We work backwards from there.”

“Put together the plan. I want to send it to Triad in an hour.”

The attack plan was transmitted to Mars at 1712 and an approval was received at 1836. Gordie contacted Robyn and said, “It’s approved. Let’s figure launch at 2200. Detonation will be around 1147 tomorrow.”

Robyn smiled. “We are going to spend some time at GQ tonight.”

“I am sending in our launch time. Tell everybody to have dinner and catch a few zees.”

“Roger that.”

At 2145 Task Force Fuel Tank went to General Quarters. At 2200 Horn Dog and Split Beaver launched twenty torpedoes each. At 2215 Task Force Fuel Tank left Ganymede orbit at .02Gs, leaving a drone behind to monitor the attack.

Bridge

MSS Cockblocker, Ceres

Saturday, June 15, 2154

TO: MSS COCKBLOCKER, COMMANDER GAIL WATANABE

FROM: MARTIAN NAVAL COMMAND (NAVCOM), ADMIRAL MATTHEW BELTING

TASK FORCE GOLD MINE DESIGNATED AS MSS COCKBLOCKER AND MSS CLITLICKER, COMMANDER WATANABE COMMANDING.

ORDERS FOR TF GOLD MINE DEPLOYMENT ARE AS FOLLOWS:

PROCEED UNDER STEALTH CONDITIONS TO CERES AND DECELERATE TO CERES ORBIT.

DETERMINE POSITIONS OF ALL WESTHEM MILITARY ASSETS. REPORT ALL WESTHEM ASSETS TO NAVCOM VIA STANDARD PROCEDURES DAILY OR AS NEEDED. PREPARE FOR COMBAT TARGETING WESTHEM MILITARY ASSETS.

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT:

PARAGRAPH ONE - WEAPONS TIGHT. FIRE IN SELF-DEFENSE ONLY. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES FIRE ON CERES MINING FACILITY OR CIVILIAN ASSETS.

PARAGRAPH TWO - AT TIME TO BE DETERMINED, DESTROY ALL MILITARY TARGETS WITHIN CONSTRAINTS OF PARAGRAPH ONE.

FOLLOWING CONCLUSION OF OPERATION GOLD MINE, RETURN TO MARS ORBIT.

STANDING BY TO EVACUATE ANY CREWMEMBERS UNWILLING TO GO ON THIS MISSION. PLEASE ADVISE ANY CREWMEMBERS ELECTING TO REMAIN THAT, FOR SHIP SECURITY, THEY WILL BE HELD IN ISOLATION UNTIL SUCH TIME AS TASK FORCE RETURNS.

AWAITING YOUR REPLY, NAVCOM.

MESSAGE ENDS.

The orders had been posted for the entire crew to read, both on the ship’s database and a printed copy on the mess hall bulletin board. Nobody had decided to remain in solitary in Triad Naval Base, not that Gail Watanabe had expected that to happen.