Ep.#15 - "That Which Other Men Cannot Do" (The Frontiers Saga) (24 page)

“But they have all had extensive simulator time, have they not?”

“Yes, sir, they have, but…”

“Are the simulators not realistic enough?”

“No, they’re plenty realistic, but no matter how realistic a simulator is, it’s still just a simulator. The knowledge that you cannot
die
in it is what makes the difference.”

“True enough, I suppose.”

“Why are you asking?”

“I was wondering if you think they are ready for combat.”

Captain Nash leaned back in his seat and sighed. “I was afraid you were going to ask that.”

“Then you believe they are not ready?”

“I suppose it depends on the mission, sir,” Captain Nash responded. “If you want them to do some patrols, or maybe even go up against some Jung fast-attack shuttles, or even some of their gunships, I might be inclined to say yes, they are ready.”

“Frigates,” the admiral said, getting straight to the point.

Captain Nash sighed again. “You want them to take on a Jung frigate?”

“No, frigates,” the admiral corrected, emphasizing the plural.

“How many?”

“Four.”

“By themselves, or as part of a battle group?”

“The frigates are part of a standard Jung battle group in the Delta Pavonis system,” Admiral Dumar explained. “However, the larger ships in the battle group would already be dealt with by the Aurora and the Celestia.”

“Then why not just have the Aurora and the Celestia take out the frigates as well,” Captain Nash suggested. “I’m sure they can take out frigates in a single pass, maybe even a single shot with those big mark fives they’re carrying now.”

“Chiya is the only inhabited world in the Pavonis system,” the admiral began. “A little smaller than Earth, not nearly as much water, only her upper and lower middle latitudes are habitable. Problem is, there are more than one hundred thousand Jung troops on that world, spread out over six different bases. They’ve also got a few dozen surface-to-orbit missile bases, and four airbases. We don’t have the air power yet to deal with so many surface bases. Luckily, most of the facilities are well removed from the population. Seems the Chiyans have been less than cooperative, so they kept the bases away from the cities for security reasons. We plan to have the Aurora and the Celestia strike them from orbit. However, to do so, they must jump in and strike quickly, before the airbases can get fighters and fast-attack shuttles in the air. If they do, we won’t be able to get boots on the ground, and the chaos that will ensue when the troop bases are destroyed could get quite ugly.”

“And if the Aurora and the Celestia have to take time to deal with the frigates…”

“They won’t be able to catch those fighters on the ground, and their defense missiles will already be in orbit, waiting to strike. In short, we won’t be able to touch the surface assets.”

“Might it be better to wait, then?” Captain Nash wondered. “Maybe until we have more assets? How long until the Jar-Benakh goes into service?”

“Less than a week, actually,” the admiral replied. “The problem is the Delta Pavonis system is one of four systems, all within twenty light years of Earth, that we’ve identified as primary staging for forces bound for Earth. We’ve already dealt with Tau Ceti and 82 Eridani. Delta Pavonis and Beta Hydri are next.”

“I still don’t see why you can’t wait.”

“Will waiting a week really make that big of a difference?” the admiral asked. “Will two weeks?”

“It might,” Captain Nash replied.

Admiral Dumar leaned back in his seat. “When I was a cadet, so very long ago, there was a ritual called
norey movah.
Loosely translated, I believe its meaning is the same as your expression, ‘trial by fire’. This was done early on in a combat pilot’s training, in order to determine beyond all doubt, which of us was truly worthy of continuing to the next level of training.”

“A test.”

“Precisely.”

“And what happened if you failed the test?” Captain Nash wondered.

“It was combat,” the admiral replied without emotion. “You died.”

“They threw you into actual combat,
before
you were properly trained?”

“We were trained. We could fly. We could fight. We knew our ships and weapons. It was our way. Those who survived went on to advanced training. We were given the newest ships, the best weapons, and the highest training.”

“Seems rather barbaric.”

“I suppose it was, in a sense,” Admiral Dumar admitted, “but it
was
effective. Surviving actual combat, when others did not, gave us an edge…a level of confidence that we could not get from mock-combat training. You yourself argued that a simulator is not the same as actual flight in space.
Norey movah
was just an extension of that idea.”

Captain Nash sighed again. “So, you want to put my crews to the test…see which ones survive?”

“No, I do not
want
to put anyone into harm’s way. However, if they are going to protect their world, and they are going to teach their fellow Tannans to do the same, they
need
to taste actual combat. Better in this fashion, against only four frigates, without threat of reinforcement, than against a sudden surprise attack. Or would you prefer their first taste of combat to be in the defense of their world?”

“It’s not that I don’t see your point, Admiral.”

“You’ve just never had to send crews into combat,” the admiral surmised.

“Yeah, I guess that’s a part of it.”

“You’ve never had children, have you, Captain?”

“No, sir. I haven’t.”

“I have a family, back on Corinair. Originally, it was part of my cover, but over time, I grew to love my wife, as well as my children. A son, and two daughters. When my son was still very young, maybe two, my wife and I took him to the playground. He was fascinated by the swings. Such a simple thing really, a seat on two cables. He was waiting patiently for his turn, standing to one side, when a child got off the swing on the far end. My son set off directly for the vacant swing. It never occurred to him that the kids who were swinging might hit him. My wife jumped from the bench where we were sitting, yelling to warn our son of the danger, but she was too late. I grabbed her hand, and pulled her back down. The first swing missed him, but the second did not. It knocked him several meters, and he started wailing. Again, his mother wanted to run to him, to hold him, but I would not allow it. He needed to learn. He saw that we were not running to his aid, and eventually he realized that he was not truly injured, and he stopped crying and got on the empty swing. From that moment on, he always took a wide path around those swings when there were children using them.”

“No offense, Admiral, it was a charming story,” Captain Nash said, “but we’re not talking about getting knocked over by a kid on a swing. We’re talking about death in combat.”

“I’m afraid you missed the point of the story, Captain, which was that sometimes,
experience
is the best teacher.”

“So, you’re saying I have to let them go?”

“If you want these men to be able to defend their world, they need to know that they can do so. They need to know that they will not turn away in the face of mortal danger. They need to know that they are capable of putting their lives on the line for what they believe. You were correct when you pointed out that lack of actual risk is what makes a simulator not as good as the real thing. The same can be said for mock combat versus actual.”

Captain Nash stared at the admiral, considering his words. “Do I have a choice, Admiral?”

“Of course. This is your command, Captain. I will not order you to send men into battle who you truly feel are not ready. But sooner or later, there will be no choice, and there also may not be any control over when and where their first combat experience is to be had. The Jung may make that decision for you.”

Captain Nash took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Had you asked me this question a week ago, I would have said no. However, over the last few days, the first two groups have really been starting to click. It might be advantageous to throw them into the deep end of the pool while their confidence is high.”

“A wise choice, Captain.”

“How soon are we talking?”

Admiral Dumar pulled a data card out of his pocket and handed it to Captain Nash. “The mission profile is on this data card. Have your men at their jump-off waypoints by fifteen-thirty, Earth Mean Time, tomorrow.”

Captain Nash looked at the time display on the wall, quickly doing the math in his head. His eyes suddenly widened. “That’s fifteen hours from now, Admiral.”

“Indeed it is,” the admiral admitted as he rose. “I suggest your men stay on base tonight, Captain, to avoid complications.”

“Yes, sir,” Captain Nash agreed, standing. “Admiral, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” the admiral replied.

“That
norey movah
thing. Do the Takarans still do that?”

Admiral Dumar smiled. “Why do you think Takaran fighter pilots are so arrogant?”

“Weren’t you one?”

“I’ve mellowed with age.” Admiral Dumar turned to depart. “Good luck, Captain.”

* * *

Cameron stood behind her command chair, leaning against its back, facing the tactical station directly aft of her. The large, clear, view screens that had been installed during the refit of the Celestia’s bridge had greatly increased each operator’s situational awareness, and the two-way capability of the tactical station’s main screen made it easy for Cameron to see what her tactical officer was explaining to her. The technology was amazing, to say the least. Despite the attempts of the Takaran technicians to explain to her how they worked, she could never quite understand how two sides could be displaying opposed images, yet still seem clear to viewers on opposite sides. She was just enjoying the flexibility it was giving her and her tactical officer, as he showed her some of the attack patterns he had been experimenting with using computer simulations.

“The last one, which I call ‘Delta Seven with a flipped reversal,’ is the same as the standard Delta Seven attack pattern, but we flip over as we reverse course, keeping our forward tubes on the target throughout the one-eighty.”

“I’m not sure our maneuvering thrusters are powerful enough to pull that off,” Cameron said.

“
If
we are at the slowest combat maneuvering speeds, and we
roll
the ship as we flip over so that we can use one outboard main in deceleration mode, and the opposite one angled outward in normal mode, it
should
work. At least it does in the simulation.”

“Have you run this past Lieutenant Hunt?”

“Yes, sir. He thinks he can pull it off as well.”

Cameron studied the simulation as it continued to replay on the clear view screen between them. “That’s going to put a lot of torque on the ship, with the outboard engines working in opposition that way.”

“I checked with the cheng, and he didn’t seem too concerned.”

“Well, if Lieutenant Commander Allison isn’t worried…” She paused mid-sentence, as the simulation reached the point in the maneuver that concerned her. She shuddered at the sight of it, seeing her ship do something that shouldn’t be possible. “It looks like something Nathan would do,” she commented with a slight chuckle.

“Maybe,” Luis agreed. “I may have even gotten the idea from him. I did room with him for four years at the academy, and we did go through basic flight together.”

“Some of his craziness must have rubbed off on you, Lieutenant,” Cameron agreed. “Add it to the training schedule, and we’ll give it a whirl during our next exercise. But we’ll start at well below combat maneuvering speeds, just in case the cheng is too optimistic in the amount of lateral torque our main frame can withstand.”

“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Delaveaga replied, pleased with himself.

“Deceleration burn complete,” Ensign Sperry reported from the Celestia’s navigation station. “We are now on course and speed for entry into the Delta Pavonis system.”

Cameron stood up straight, turning to face forward. “Very well,” she replied as she glanced at the time display on the starboard auxiliary view screen. There were still three minutes until zero hour.

“Plot our jump to the launch point and stand by,” she ordered.

“Aye, sir.”

“How do our weapons look, Ensign Kono?”

“All six jump KKVs are on course and speed for the target area,” her sensor operator replied. “Currently eighteen point five million kilometers ahead of us and increasing range rapidly.”

“Jump is plotted and is auto-updating as we go,” Ensign Sperry reported. “Ready to jump on your command.”

“Very well,” Cameron replied as she took her seat. She glanced at the time display once more. “We jump to launch point in one minute.”

“Two minutes,” Lieutenant Commander Rano reported from Cobra One’s copilot seat.

Captain Nash glanced at the mission time display on the center console on his right. His eyes dropped to the tactical and navigation display just below it, noting their course and speed. There were four blue icons on the screen. The one indicating his ship was at the center of the display, with the other three icons spreading out behind and to starboard, in a perfect line.

He thought about the other group of four gunships, currently on a similar approach track, but from the opposite side of the Delta Pavonis system. He had considered breaking that group up, and mixing it with two of the ships from his own group. His pilots had several more weeks of experience in their ships, and while Captain Nash was still not certain they were ready for combat, they
were
better prepared than any of the crews in the second group. However, there had not been time. Despite their lack of actual flight time, what time they
did
have was together. Breaking them apart on short notice and without any time to get used to one another would only have created new problems…ones they didn’t need going into their first combat action.