“Yes. Thirty days of underwater hunting, all on their own. Here, let me show you something.” She pulled up a schematic on her tablet. “These bad boys have onboard AIs that can process and identify acoustic signatures, classify threats, and even predict submarine behavior patterns over time. You designate the zones they operate in, and you control and program the rules of engagement they use. After that, they’re killer whales with torpedoes for teeth.”
“Amazing. And what if the PLA tries to jam our communications?”
“Ah, well, that’s the beauty of autonomy.” Mick leaned in. “Can’t jam what doesn’t need to phone home. These things will keep hunting even if every satellite burns and every radio tower falls.”
Tang studied the schematic, fingers tracing torpedo loadouts and sensor arrays. “We’ve theorized such systems. To see them real…”
“Yes, it’s impressive. We’ve moved well past theory, Commander,” interrupted Mack as she closed the tablet. “It’s time we welcome you to the future of naval warfare. Population: you.”
Tang smiled at her brashness.
“Come on,” Mack said, leading them deeper into the complex. “Time to turn you into ghost whisperers. Except your ghosts will be carrying Mark 48 torpedoes.”
Outside, the squall had passed completely now, leaving behind that electric clarity that came after tropical storms. As Mack looked behind the hangar, she knew somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, Chinese satellites were certainly watching, counting, analyzing.
Let them watch, she thought. By the time they understand what we’ve taught here, it’ll be too late.
Behind her, forty-eight voices began calling cadence as Chief Reyes led them to their quarters. The sound echoed off hangar walls, mixing with jet engines and distant thunder.
The countdown to April fifteenth had started. Time to contact was steadily approaching.
“Simulated contacts bearing one-six-zero. Depth forty meters. Speed five knots and climbing.”
Mick stood behind a pair of ROC sailors hunched over their console. The green trace of the Seeker-class XLUUV ghosted across the bathymetric map, showing the depth and shape of the underwater terrain. Sonar pings highlighted a target track just beyond the shelf drop. The ops trailer smelled of coffee, electronics, and nervous sweat.
“What’s your call, Petty Officer Liang Zihao?” Mick kept his voice neutral.
The young sailor’s fingers hovered over the Engagement Authorize key. On screen, the Seeker’s AI had already classified the contact: PLAN Type 039C submarine, confidence eighty-seven percent. The autonomous hunter circled like a shark, maintaining perfect acoustic shadow while calculating firing solutions.
“It’s… it’s requesting permission to engage,” Liang said, voice tight.
“That’s because we’re in training mode.” Mick tapped the screen. “Fully autonomous, this thing would’ve already put two Mark 48s in the water. You’ve got eight seconds to authorize or abort.”
Liang glanced at his partner, then stabbed the Authorize key. “Weapons free.”
The display erupted in data streams. Two torpedoes separated from the Seeker, their tracks diverging to bracket the target. The submarine contact immediately accelerated, diving for the thermocline. Too late. The first torpedo detonated beneath its keel, the second finishing what physics started.
“Kill confirmed,” the AI announced in its eerily calm voice. “Returning to patrol pattern.”
“Outstanding.” Mick clapped Liang on the shoulder. “Except for one thing. Check your IFF overlay.”
Liang’s face went pale as he pulled up the identification layer. The “enemy” submarine now showed friendly markers — a Japanese Soryu-class on scheduled transit.
“Well, that complicates things,” he muttered in Mandarin.
“Yeah, just a bit. You sank an allied sub.” Mick leaned against the console. “Look, the PLA knows our allies’ signatures too. They’ll spoof, they’ll deceive, they’ll try to make you kill friendlies. That’s why we have human oversight.”
Commander Tang watched from the supervisor’s station, taking notes on a secured tablet. “How often do they attempt acoustic spoofing?”
“During my time in the Navy, every time we sailed through the South China Sea,” Mick replied bluntly. “Your Seeker’s AI is good, Commander — scary good — but it’s not perfect. It learns from every engagement, sure, but the enemy learns too.”
He pulled up another scenario. “OK, we’re going to reset and try this again. This time we’re running the Matsu Gap. Petty Officer Wang, you’re up.”
The display refreshed. Three Seekers appeared in formation, patrolling the narrow waters between Matsu Island and the Chinese mainland. Mick had programmed this one himself — a nightmare scenario of overlapping sonar coverage, civilian traffic, and hostile submarines trying to force the strait.
“Mission parameters,” he announced. “Prevent any submerged transit while avoiding civilian casualties. You’ve got six hours of battery on each Seeker before they need to surface and recharge. Oh, and the PLA just declared another ‘live-fire exercise’ in your patrol box.”
Wang’s team huddled over their stations. Within minutes, they’d repositioned the Seekers into a picket line, using Lattice AI to coordinate overlapping sonar coverage. Smart, but predictable.
“Incoming surface contact,” one operator called out. “Container ship, bearing zero-nine-five.”
“Let it pass,” Wang ordered.
Mick suppressed a smile. The ship passed directly over Seeker-2’s position. The XLUUV’s AI immediately detected the acoustic anomaly — something heavy had just detached from the container ship’s hull.
“Contact! Subsurface separation from merchant vessel!”
“It’s a parasitic mini-sub,” Commander Tang identified quickly. “We’ve been monitoring the PLA’s experiments with them.”
“Ah-ha. Good catch,” complimented Mick as he watched Wang’s team continue to react. “But heads up, you’ve got bigger problems.”
The display began to light up with new contacts. What looked like a group of routine fishing vessels heading to sea had just dumped dozens of active sonar buoys, creating a wall of acoustic noise. Behind the screen, two Type 093 nuclear attack subs sprinted for the gap.
“They’re herding us,” Wang realized. “Trying to force our Seekers out of position.”
“So, what do you do?” pressed Mick.
Wang’s fingers flew across his console. “Seeker-1, ignore the noise. Maintain station. Seeker-3, shallow dive, get below the thermocline. Seeker-2…” He paused, calculating. “Sprint north, then cut engines. Drift onto their flank.”
The display updated in real time. The Chinese subs, confident in their acoustic cover, maintained their sprint. They never detected Seeker-2 drifting silently into their baffles.
“Fire when ready,” Wang ordered.
Four torpedoes lanced out. The lead Type 093 managed an emergency blow, broaching like a wounded whale before the weapons found it. The second tried to dive but ran straight into Seeker-3’s firing solution.
“Splash two,” the AI reported.
But the mini-sub had slipped through during the chaos.
“You stopped the main force but missed the infiltrator,” Mick noted. “In real combat, that could be carrying special forces, mines, or worse. Tang, what’s your assessment?”
The commander stood, addressing his sailors. “We’re thinking like surface warriors, not submariners. The Seekers give us reach, but we need to think in three dimensions, multiple layers.”