The Battle of the Hammer Worlds

“Glad you liked it, sir,” Michael muttered sourly. “I think everyone else did, too.”

Baker clapped him on the back. “Don’t sweat it. My first time, I managed to break my wrist, so all in all you haven’t done too badly. Come on. Park your unit here. The boss awaits.”

Michael stuck his boots into the micromesh covering the deck. Arms waving in an attempt to stay upright, he set off after Baker in the awkward motion-push, twist, tug, push-required to move in zero g wearing stick boots. Making their way through the ship, Michael looked around with interest. The Tufayl had been one of the ships closest to the Hammer missiles; she had suffered badly in the attack, and it was obvious.

It was a heartrending sight. The ship was a shambles. Evidence of the massive shock wave that had punched its way through the ship was everywhere-machinery big and small, pipework, cabling, lockers, all ripped off their mounts. Here and there, there were dirty black patches he strongly suspected were long-dried blood. He shivered. A lot of good spacers had died here, and he felt their ghosts. Everywhere there was debris from a once-living ship: shipsuits, boots, gloves, tool kits, test equipment, combat space suits, fire extinguishers, emergency cable kits, tables, chairs, holovid screens, mess kits, and more. There was abandoned gear everywhere. The sight was utterly demoralizing.

Baker plowed on. He must be used to all this, Michael thought. He followed Baker down a drop tube, pulling himself down hand over hand.

“Okay, here we are,” Baker announced as he pushed himself clear of the tube. They were in a small lobby. Aft lay the Tufayl’s combat information center, but Baker went forward to the captain’s quarters. He knocked on the door.

“Come!” Michael knew he should recognize that voice. Try as he might, he could not place it.

He recognized the face, though. The long, lean figure of Vice Admiral Jaruzelska smiled broadly as Michael whipped his right hand up into a salute in best Fleet fashion. Well, it would have been if Michael’s feet had been better anchored to the micromesh. They were not, and the salute spun his body into a slow turn to the right that, arms flailing, nothing could stop. Doing his best not to laugh out loud, Baker finally rescued him.

Michael, cheeks flaming red in embarrassment, struggled to recover his lost dignity. Jaruzelska made her way over to shake his hand, her face split by a huge grin. “Welcome,” she said warmly. “Welcome to the First Dreadnought Squadron, Lieutenant Helfort. Well, what will in time become the squadron when we’ve made a few alterations.”

“Thank you, sir,” he replied, wondering what the hell the First Dreadnought Squadron was. He pretty much knew the Fed order of battle by heart; to the best of his knowledge, there was no such beast as the First Dreadnought Squadron.

“How much has Commander Baker told you?”

“Well, sir. Not a lot, really, and what he has told me is, well, is. .”

“Hard to believe?” Jaruzelska laughed.

Michael nodded. “You could say that, sir. Impossible to believe might be more accurate, though.”

“Well, we’ll have to put you out of your misery, then. Now, let me explain what this business is all about.”

“Sir.”

“First things first. My job is simple. I’ve been given six months to give the Fleet an offensive capability capable of beating Hammer ships armed with antimatter warhead-fitted Eaglehawk missiles.”

Michael’s mouth dropped open. How in God’s name could these battered ships do that?

“Yes, I know, Michael. Hard to see what the Tufayl and her sisters can do to take the fight back to the Hammers, but Commander Baker here has convinced me. Commander?”

“Thank you, sir. Well, let’s start by dragging a sacred cow out and killing it. The days of the conventionally manned warship are over. Not completely, true, but thanks to antimatter weapons, Federation warships cannot carry thousands of vulnerable humans into battle anymore. Now-”

“Hold on, hold on. Sorry, sir”-Michael did not look sorry at all-“but did you just say what I think you said? If you did, that means unmanned warships, and that means the end of the Fleet as we know it. How can that be?”

“Well, Michael, needs must, I’m afraid. Two reasons: a chronic shortage of spacers and the huge amount of mass it will take to make a ship like this safe against antimatter warheads. You can have the crew but not the protection. Or you can have the protection but not the crew. You can’t have both, you see. With me so far?”

“Just, sir.”

“Good. But you’re not completely right. There’ll be no unmanned warships, but we can have the extra protection and a much smaller crew. Ten, I’m thinking.”

“Ten!” Michael protested. “Sir! I’ve been there, and I’m not sure that’ll work.”

“Michael,” Jaruzelska cut in, “you may well be right, but we’re going to try it. Maybe it’ll work. I happen to think it will. All I want from you is an open mind.”

“Sir!” Michael replied fiercely. “I’ll try anything if it gets us level with the Hammer.”

“Good. Go on, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir. As I was saying, a heavy cruiser will have a crew of only ten spacers. Not thirteen hundred as now. Every bit of redundant equipment will be ripped out. Anything not required to maneuver the ship, to operate its sensors, to fire its weapons, and to keep its crew alive-it will all go.”

“I get it, sir!” Michael’s voice cracked with excitement. “That’ll give us a heavy cruiser, but she’d be lighter, faster, and more maneuverable. Jeez, wouldn’t that be something?”

“Doesn’t stop there, Michael,” Jaruzelska said. “Everything we take out allows us to give the crew the armor and shock protection they’ll need to survive an antimatter attack at very close ranges. And you’ll be the first captain in command of what Commander Baker likes to call the new dreadnoughts.”

Michael gulped. “Shit. . sorry, sirs, but this is a lot to take in.”

“Yes, it is,” Jaruzelska said patiently, “but it has to work first, so let’s not be counting our chickens. Now, before I hand you back to Commander Baker for a more detailed briefing on what we’re up to here, do you have any questions?”

“No, sir. . oh, wait, just one, if I may.”

“Go on.”

“Why me, sir? Why have I been picked?”

Jaruzelska laughed out loud. “Thought you’d ask that. I happen to think that experience can be a bad thing sometimes. Every officer with formal command training, and that means every captain of a Fed warship, has been brought up to fight battles with fully crewed ships. By the time they get to command a heavy cruiser, they’ve had decades of doing business that way, and that’s not what I want. What I want is officers trained from the ground up to fight battles with what are-near as damn it-uncrewed ships. I want no preconceptions, no bad habits, no ‘this is not the way we do things.’Understand?”

“I do, sir. But why me?”

“You’ve already done what Commander Baker and I have in mind. You took Adamant into battle against two Hammer heavy cruisers and won. Yes, yes”-her hand went up to stop Michael’s protest-“I know things went your way that day, but believe me when I say you do deserve a lot of credit. I’ve been through the datalogs, and it wasn’t all luck. That’s why you’re here.” Jaruzelska leaned forward and looked Michael right in the face. “You are the only Fleet officer ever to command what was effectively an uncrewed warship in action,” she said fiercely. “You selected yourself.”

“Got it, sir,” Michael said, a little shaken by Jaruzelska’s sudden intensity. “No more questions.”

“Good. Off you go. Commander Baker will fill you in on the rest of the plan. We’ve laid on welcome drinks for you in the unit’s mess at six. Oh, and make sure you’re properly dressed”-Jaruzelska tapped her shoulder-“otherwise it’ll be the most expensive party you’ve ever been to.”

Michael reddened with embarrassment. “Sir.”

“Sorry, sir. My fault,” Baker said. “Forgot to pass on the news.”

“Drinks on you, then.”

“You are a hard woman, sir.”

Jaruzelska laughed. “Go! I’ve got work to do. See you tonight.”

“We’ll be there, sir,” Baker said. “Come on, Michael. We’ve got a lot to see, and then it’s into the sims for