Battleship

For a long moment the Secretary of Defense was dead silent on the other end of the line, then he said, very softly, “Holy shit.”

“Yes sir,” said Shane, “I think that about sums it up.”

USS JOHN PAUL JONES

On the bridge, Ord personally transmitted the message that Hopper had dictated, earphones pressed tightly to his head in order to hear the reply. After a few moments he said, “Uhm…”

“Don’t give me ‘uhm,’ Ord. Did they respond?”

“Nagata did, yeah. He said there’s not enough battle space, and wanted to know if you were out of your mind.”

Figures. Useless dumbass.

“All ahead flank,” he said as if no one had spoken. He turned to Ord. “Tell Nagata I’m going with him or without him. His call. Tell him…” He paused, smiling grimly. “Tell him with the fate of the world on the line, I’d have thought he’d behave in an honorable manner. And that I’m sorry I overestimated him.”

There were soft murmurs of “Whoa” on the bridge. No one there was Japanese, but likewise none of them had any doubts as to the serious challenge Hopper was throwing down.

I’m taking on an alien fleet; I really don’t give a damn about pissing off a single human officer.

Nevertheless, he was curious as to the response he’d get from Nagata.

“Sir,” said Ord, sounding apprehensive, “you really want to attack this thing?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Sir, they’ve killed everything that has fired on them!”

Hopper rounded on Ord. “If you’re bucking to be relieved of duty, keep going. Just say anything to me other than ‘Aye, sir.’ You understand?”

Ord’s jaw twitched and then he said, “Aye, sir.”

The John Paul Jones slowly turned and prepared to take on the stinger. As it did so, Ord turned to Hopper. “Sir…” Hopper fired him a warning look but Ord simply indicated the communications board. Understanding, Hopper nodded and indicated Ord should speak. “Sir, Nagata says you obviously are out of your mind. But he also says that they’re in, all ahead full on battle line 110. And that he’ll see you in hell.”

“Tell him I have dibs on the top bunk. On second thought,” he said as Ord reached for the transmitter, “don’t tell him that. Tell him to stay on 110 and attack its starboard side.” He toggled the link to CIC. “Raikes, are you good to go?”

“Good to go, sir,” her voice filtered back.

His eyes were locked on the stinger with murderous intent. “Can you see it, Raikes?”

Raikes didn’t even have to ask what “it” he was referring to. “Five-inch gun locked on target. I can see it, sir.”

“Kill it.”

“Killing it, sir.”

The moment they were within range, Raikes unloaded, firing directly at the stinger, giving it all she had with the pounding fury of the 5-inch gun. Coming in from the other direction, Nagata’s vessel followed suit, spitting shells at the stinger that then exploded against the ship’s force field. It flared to life, repulsing as many of the shells as it could.

It wasn’t all of them, however. Hopper couldn’t tell if it was one of his that had managed to punch through to the stinger’s surface or if it was the Myoko that had the singular honor of landing the first major blow against the alien invaders on behalf of the human race. Either way, he was rewarded with the sight of the stinger rocking on its pontoons, and a blackened, scorched dent appeared on the stinger’s hull, on the starboard flank.

“Ha! Got you, you—” Hopper’s crowing died in his throat as the stinger, elevating on its “legs,” let fly with those white, cylindrical missiles. Half a dozen of them hurtled toward the John Paul Jones.

“Countermeasures!” he shouted as the cylinders streaked toward the destroyer. Seconds later there were explosions all around. Most of the cylinders were intercepted and blew up prematurely, but one managed to get through and slammed into the side of the ship, detonating a moment later. The John Paul Jones rocked violently and Hopper shouted, “Damage report!”

“Weapons systems down!” Raikes’s voice came over the radio.

Hopper muttered a curse and then watched in horror.

He had braced for another round, but as if his ship were old news, the stinger swiveled around to face the Myoko. The action seemed to catch Nagata’s vessel flat-footed. “Move! Move your boat, you son of a bitch!” Hopper in futility shouted.

The stinger moved deftly out of range of the John Paul Jones’s guns as it angled straight toward the Myoko. The launch array atop the stinger swiveled to aim directly at the Japanese destroyer. Seconds later, the stinger had launched a brace of its cylinder weapons, streaking across the space between themselves and the Japanese ship in no time flat. The Myoko tried to counter, and was as successful in the endeavor as the American vessels had been. Many of the alien missiles were intercepted, but a few were not. And those few were enough to have devastating results. The white cylinders thudded into the ship, and even from this distance, Hopper could see them transform from white to red and then detonate. He realized they must have hit the weapon magazines or fuel reserves, as the ship went ablaze in a massive explosion.

“Get the guns online!” said Hopper. “We’re going in full attack!”

“Sir,” said Ord, getting the report from Raikes, “guns are three minutes away! We don’t have any weapons, sir!”

“Then set course for 33 degrees at 30 knots.”

Ord clearly had no desire to be relieved of duty, but nevertheless felt compelled to point out, “Sir, just so we’re clear, that’s a collision course.”

Hopper nodded. His next words weren’t an order—they were a threat. “Get the guns online, or I’m going to ram this thing.”

Witnessing the destruction from her vantage point behind the guns, Raikes watched in horror as the Myoko fought for her life. Raikes also realized that the John Paul Jones was continuing on a collision course with the alien vessel, showing no sign of slowing down or attempting to provide aid to a crippled vessel that had just been attacked. Immediately she got on the horn with Beast, down in the engine room. “You’ve got to pull him back. He’s going to kill us all.”

“You do it,” came back Beast’s voice.

“I can’t afford to leave my post! You can! And he’ll listen to you before he’ll listen to me!”

Hopper was listening to nothing, save the pounding of his pulse in his head and the way his heart was driving him to avenge himself on the stinger. Everyone on the bridge looked terrified, keeping themselves together purely because training had drilled into them a directive that superseded even the instinct for self-preservation: respect for the chain of command.

Even if the person in command was the weak link in the chain.

“Goddammit!” Hopper shouted down to Raikes, who had inexplicably stopped talking to him. “Target that thing before it jumps clear! Get me in there so I can hit it!”

Suddenly Beast was standing next to him, as if he had just appeared out of thin air. But Hopper didn’t even acknowledge Beast’s presence, so focused was he on the enemy before him. When Beast said, slow and serious, “There are sailors in the water,” it didn’t register on Hopper at any level.