Torrance looked as if he was considering it. “Call it the Aerospace Navy and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Nathan figured that was a good trade-off, but he said nothing. There was so much different about their new ship, it would take a lot of getting used to. Neither the astronauts nor the regular officers had any particular advantage, either. And of all things, simply getting around took perhaps the most getting used to.
With the thrust on standard, forward and aft were tricky concepts. On a wet-Navy ship, those terms meant “toward the bow” and “toward the stern” respectively, but here the planet-side definitions were at odds with common sense. Instead, toward the bow was “up” and the stern was “down”, essentially turning the angular wedge of the destroyer into a tall, regal tower, thrusting upwards through the heavens.
For ease of reference in varying thrust conditions, forward and aft kept their naval designations, even though they also meant up and down with the main drive running. Continuing with that convention then, the other ship coordinates worked themselves out: ventral was to the narrow side with the work pods, which had faced down when the ship was constructed laying over on Earth. Dorsal lay opposite this, along the narrow side with the STOSS hangar, which had faced up during construction. Port was to the left when facing ventral or forward, and starboard was to the right. These designations were firm as well, no matter if they were in microgravity or accelerating along some non-standard vector. Re-orienting their coordinate system to apparent gravity would not only have been maddening, it would have made meaningful communication impossible.
Nathan sat and checked their progress on his screens. Earth had been left behind, becoming just a small circle no larger than a dime held at arm’s length. But they were not alone in all that vast emptiness. Grown into visible range before them was another body—a small, seemingly insignificant mountain of iron compounds and silicates, which had the unfortunate distinction of being their target.
To prevent a sudden, limited pass-by past their rocky objective, the Sword of Liberty had flipped around to thrust into the opposite direction once they were halfway to the Near Earth Asteroid, 2006 UA22. And aside from a slight wobble in their apparent gravity at turnaround, thrust and acceleration as well as the direction of up and down remained constant. They quickly matched orbits with the target, the pair of them pretty much alone in space.
Nathan split his attention between the bright marble of Earth and the gray-brown pitted ovoid of the asteroid. He shook his head to no one in particular, and wondered which of the two bodies were going to be hit harder by what they were about to do.
Kristene popped through the doorway, excitement and anticipation evident on her face. “Are we there yet? I’m anxious to blow something up.”
The CO and XO both laughed and Nathan grinned and stood. She sidled up to him and he kissed her, with only a twinge of self-consciousness at the critical looks Henson and Torrance gave him. Nathan responded, “Patience, patience. We’re farther out than anyone has ever been, in just a couple of hours no less, and it’s still not fast enough for you.”
Torrance checked his display and nodded. “The young’uns these days. As a matter of fact, we are approaching range of the target, and have reached the planned crossing velocity. Recommend cutting thrust and proceeding with the tactical trial.”
“Very well. Cut thrust and line us up on the asteroid. All personnel to Battle Stations Alpha,” Henson commanded.
Nathan sat and made the necessary selections. From speakers all around the ship, a cool feminine voice announced, “General Quarters, General Quarters. Now set General Quarters, Alpha Stations. The ship may engage in high g maneuvers without warning. All personnel will move in an orderly fashion to their General Quarters stations. All personnel will secure for maneuvers and minimize all internal transit unless specifically authorized by the Commanding Officer.”
Suddenly, all trace of weight vanished as the drive cut off and they were again in microgravity. Most of the skeleton crew of fifteen officers aboard were in position, but more than a couple overcompensated for the return to freefall and launched themselves into the overhead with painful results. Those few winced and proceeded to their designated acceleration couches, to monitor and control the weapons tests from there.
Alpha Stations allowed them to work from their usual consoles and seats without suiting up, while Bravo Stations forced them to work from within protective vacuum suits, just in case the ship took damage and lost air integrity. The final condition, Charlie Stations, required them to don vacuum gear as well as relocate to the “pods” or “coffins”, special one-person chambers capable of being pressurized with a force-dampening gel which would enable them to withstand higher g-loads than they normally could endure.
Nathan glanced over to Kris, where she had strapped into a spare couch between the XO and the Weapons Officer. He locked gazes with her and gave her a significant look. “We all ready, Kris?”
She smiled. “Born ready, Mr. Kelley, sir! Let’s launch us some nukes and shoot us some guns.”
Henson glanced from one of them to the other. “Ms. Muñoz, if you would, please monitor the Weapons Officer and assist LCDR Gutierrez with the launch. This will be the first time any of us have fired these missiles and we would prefer not to have a set of six fusion warheads go astray. XO, please monitor Mr. Kelley in the use of the railgun and the laser emplacements. Computer, main screen, enhanced targeting view, go.”
The large flat screen that took up half of the ventral portion of the bridge switched from an overview of environmental, ship, crew, and sensor data to a false-color display showing the highlighted asteroid on a field of black. Vectors and outlines shifted continuously over the rock’s surface as radar and lidar picked out surface features and the computers made automated threat evaluations.
This particular nameless asteroid had been chosen for one reason only, and a cynical, informed observer could not help but notice that the planetoid’s shape and size bore a striking similarity to that of the Deltan control ship. Nathan had suggested the target and Henson and Torrance had been happy to agree with it. None of them would admit to having pre-conceived notions of the aliens’ intentions, but neither would they object to being prudent.
LCDR Rudy Gutierrez made some selections on his screen to which Kris nodded. Elsewhere on the ship, in CIC just dorsal of them and in the missile deck monitoring station several levels above, his selections were taken as commands to the officers working there, who carried them out and acknowledged them almost automatically. Gutierrez turned to the CO. “Captain, all weapons stations report ready. Track 0017 targeted at range 674.3 km, bearing 340 by 075 relative off the port dorsal bow, bearing and closure rates negligible. Asteroid target and ownship at zero thrust. One missile, portside dorsal cell 12, selected for launch. Weapon, drive, and tube capacitors are charged, and ripple warhead pattern selected. Ready for nuclear weapons release on your authority, sir.”
Colonel Henson looked over at Nathan. “Mr. Kelley, assure me there’s no chance I’m going to end up raining meteors down on Earth should this test be successful.”
Nathan frowned and double-checked the missile vector and their relative positions of the Earth and 2006 UA22. Eventually he shrugged. “There’s no way I can give you a hundred percent certainty, but the missile is detonating on a line between the asteroid and the planet. Any debris we get should be aimed away from that vector. I can’t say nothing will ever change orbits and fall to Earth, but the chances against it are … astronomical, I guess you could say.”