"Aye, aye, sir."
Paul unstrapped and pulled himself out of Combat. Halfway to the wardroom, he passed Randy Diego. "Paul? Commander Garcia's looking for you."
"Did he say what about?"
"No. But he didn't look happy."
Wonderful. Now Garcia probably wants to chew me out for not telling him or the captain about the SASAL ship. Might as well get it over with. "Thanks, Randy." Paul went looking for Garcia.
* * *
"So," Lieutenant Sindh murmured, "how's your butt this morning?"
"Tender," Paul muttered back as he settled into the junior officer of the deck's chair and tugged at the straps. "After Garcia finished ripping into me he passed me off to the XO so Kwan could take some bites out of me. At least Hayes seems in a better mood today."
"That's because you warned him last night this might happen." Sindh indicated the maneuvering display, where the SASAL warship loomed far closer than it should've been if it had stayed inside the traffic lane. "I guess the South Asians want a real close look at our show."
"Yeah. I checked out the Tamerlane's position in Combat before coming to the bridge. If he wants to, he could be right on top of us when we start our little multinational ballet."
"You sure?" Sindh ran some quick calculations herself. "That's not good. It's going to be hairy enough dancing around those foreign ships without worrying about that SASAL goon hanging around."
"At least we've got—"
Paul was interrupted by the bosun mate of the watch yelling out, "Captain's on the bridge!"
Hayes went straight to his chair on one side of the bridge and strapped in before looking toward Paul and Sonya Sindh. "Looks like you were right about the son of a gun, Paul. Good work."
"Thank you, sir." Alright. I'm "Paul" again instead of Mr. Sinclair.
"What if this guy tries to mess with our exercise? Do we use standard rules of engagement for foreign encounters?"
Sindh flicked a glance at Paul, who gave her a surreptitous thumbs-up back. "No, sir. Fleet's issued specific guidance for SASAL encounters during this period."
Hayes grinned. "Do you know them?"
"Yes, sir." Studied the hell out of them last night after Kwan and Garcia finished reading me the riot act. No way I was going to be caught flat-footed again this soon. "They're more restrictive than the usual rules of engagement."
"Damn. Well, hopefully he'll keep his distance and we won't need them." Commander Kwan entered the bridge and strapped into his own chair. "Hey, XO, we got company."
Kwan nodded, then gave Paul a glare. "Yes, sir."
"Okay, Sonya, Paul, let's get this show on the road."
The XO heard Hayes' tone and reference to Paul by his first name, gave Paul another less-hostile look, then focused on the displays near his chair. "Who's running Combat with Sinclair up here?"
Paul answered immediately. "Commander Garcia, sir."
Kwan nodded. "Good."
I'm glad you think so. My sailors aren't too happy about it.
They spent the next hour conducting communications checks with the foreign ships. The Brits sounded calm to the point of being relaxed, the Franco-German ship kept trying to pretend no one board spoke English, and the Russian Federation ship seemed so jovial that Captain Hayes wondered aloud if they'd been sampling their vodka rations already this morning.
Finally, the ships began their first planned maneuver. Paul found himself unusually nervous as the bosun sounded out his warning. "All hands prepare for extended maneuvering period beginning in five minutes. Secure all objects and materials. Undertake no task that cannot be completed prior to maneuvering."
Precisely five minutes later the Michaelson's thrusters fired, shoving everyone onboard to one side. Paul and Sonya watched as the Michaelson's maneuvering systems handled the job automatically, swinging the ship onto a new heading before the main drive cut in and slammed the crew back against their restraints. The stars spun on the visual display in front of Paul, where bright symbols superimposed on the blackness of space told him the positions of the Maury and the three foreign warships. On the maneuvering displays, the vectors of the five ships began pushing them into the shape of a huge pentagon with sides two hundred kilometers long.
"Bridge, this is Combat. The SASAL ship is up to something."
Every head on the bridge jerked over to check out the vector on the SASAL ship. It had lengthened and shifted, marking maneuvering and main drive firing by the Tamerlane. Captain Hayes, his face stressed by the force of the Michaelson's acceleration, slapped his communications controls. "I want to know what he's doing the instant we have a reasonable estimate."
"Yes, sir. Preliminary system estimates put him heading this way."
Hayes glared toward Paul. "What can we do, Paul?"
"The rules of engagement say we should warn them off using all available means."
"Comms, get on the air to the Tamerlane and tell them to get the hell out of here. Feel free to be that blunt. Send it simultaneously using lasers on visual frequencies. Paul, what if he doesn't respond?"
Paul grimaced, knowing the captain wouldn't like what Paul was about to say. "Avoid confrontation, sir."
"What?"
"Avoid confrontation, sir. That's verbatim. If the SASAL's don't veer off, we have to avoid them."
"Damn. Combat, what the hell is he doing now?"
"He appears to be angling to cut across our bow, sir."
"I can see that, Combat! I want his CPA!"
Paul fought down a burst of anger. If I'd been down in Combat I'd have made sure my guys provided the Closest Point of Approach for the captain. Garcia just got my sailors yelled at because he wanted to answer the captain right away.
"Bridge, this is Combat. If we continue on our current course, CPA to the SASAL ship will be somewhere between forty and sixty kilometers."
Hayes' face reddened as he watched the SASAL ship continue onward. "I assume there's been no reply to our communications?"
"No, sir. None."
"Mr. Sinclair, I'd sure like to know whether or not that SASAL captain is also under orders to avoid confrontations!"
Paul, unable to think of any reply, simply nodded. "Yes, sir." Lieutenant Sindh somehow managed to make a gesture of long-suffering toward Paul without actually making it. Paul felt his frustration shifting to a similar sardonic acceptance of fate. A captain's many powers included the right to ask unreasonable questions and get ticked off if you didn't know the answers.
Captain Hayes drummed his fingers on his chair arm for several seconds. "Hell. Prepare to alter our current maneuver to avoid that ship. I want to open his CPA to one hundred kilometers."
"Aye, aye, sir," Paul and Sonya Sindh responded simultaneously, then both began calculating the necessary changes.
"Combat, notify all ships in the formation of our intended course change and tell them, uh, that is 'request' that they prepare to resume the exercise once the SASAL ship has finished ramming through here."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"Officer of the deck, do you have the evasive maneuver calculated?"
"Yes, sir," Sindh answered calmly.
"Execute it. Get us clear of that idiot."
Sindh pushed the engage button and the Michaelson's thrusters fired again, pitching her over to the side and altering her course through space away from the place where the SASAL ship would come closest to her.
An alarm sounded. "Bridge, this is Combat. The SASAL ship has his active fire control systems locked onto us."
Captain Hayes' face grew even redder. "I've had just about enough of this."
Paul stared at the symbol representing the SASAL ship. What are they thinking? Locking their fire control systems onto us is about the most provocative thing they can do. Surely they don't want us to shoot. They're just thumbing their noses at us, trying to show they won't be intimidated.
"Mr. Sinclair," Hayes ground out. "Are there any loopholes in those rules of engagement? Do I have any discretion
on responding to what that ship is doing?"
Paul shook his head carefully against the force of the Michaelson's maneuvers. "No, sir. We aren't allowed to take any action except to avoid confrontation."
"Great. Let me tell you, Mr. Sinclair, I would dearly love to confront those guys right now."
Me, too. "Yes, sir."
"Captain?" Commander Garcia called from Combat, sounding aggrieved. "Our evasive maneuver combined with evasive maneuvers by Maury and Alsace are completely throwing off the formation. It'll take us hours to get everybody back into position to restart."
Commander Kwan shook his head. "It's almost like they planned it that way."
Captain Hayes glared at his display as he answered. "That ship certainly seemed to know where it had to be and when it had to be there to mess with us. We shared our exercise plans with the Euros and the Russians. What are the odds they didn't leak?"
Paul noticed new symbols spring to life on his display and frowned down at it. "Captain? HMS Lord Nelson is maneuvering again."
"Why?" Hayes frowned at his own screen. "They were well clear of the SASAL ship's track through our formation. Where's the Nelson going?"
"We can't tell yet, sir."
"As if I don't have enough trouble with unfriendly foreigners, now I have to worry about what the so-called friendly foreigners are doing." Hayes angrily punched a communications button. "HMS Lord Nelson, this is the Exercise Movement Coordinator onboard USS Michaelson. Request advise the purpose of your maneuvers."
The Euro ship's reply, in a calm, lightly British-accented woman's voice, came after a pause. "This is HMS Lord Nelson. Roger. Wait one. Out."
"Wait one?" Commander Kwan questioned. "Don't they know what they're doing?"
Captain Hayes frowned again. "Of course they do. That's the Royal Navy over there, and that was the Nelson's captain who answered us. What the hell is she up to?"
Paul heard a brief attention chirp from his display and glanced back at it. "The Lord Nelson's firing thrusters and main drive again, sir." He watched as the arc of the British ship's projected path through space altered shape, quickly bending into a trajectory which crossed another projected path, then firmed as the warship steadied onto course. As the Nelson cut her drives to settle onto her new trajectory, a red symbol flashed to life on Paul's screen where the two paths came together. "Captain?" Paul tried to keep his voice from cracking. "HMS Lord Nelson's settled onto a collision course with the SASAL ship."
"What?!" Hayes bent over his screen, as if being closer to it would resolve more detail.
"Bridge, this is Combat. The Nelson's on a collision course with the Tamerlane."
Lieutenant Sindh tapped in a request for the Michaelson's systems to recheck and confirm their calculations. "Estimate confirmed, sir. Nelson's positioned herself so her trajectory will intercept that of the SASAL ship."
"Why the hell . . . ? HMS Lord Nelson, this is the Exercise Maneuvering Coordinator. Interrogative your intentions."
The Lord Nelson's captain responded immediately this time, her voice unruffled. "This is HMS Lord Nelson. I regret to report a possible problem with my maneuvering systems."
Captain Hayes stared at his display for a moment before replying. "Captain Vitali, you are on a collision course with the SASAL ship."
"Yes, we have noticed that."
"What is the exact nature of your maneuvering system problem?"
"We're still looking into it."
"Captain Vitali, you need to maneuver your ship again. You're on a very hazardous trajectory."
"The situation is a bit awkward, isn't it?"
Captain Hayes seemed lost for words for a moment before replying. "Do you anticipate correcting this 'problem' with your maneuvering systems in the very near future?"
"It's very hard to say."
Hayes took a deep breath. "Captain Vitali, as Exercise Movement Coordinator I very respectfully request that you immediately maneuver so as to avoid collision with the SASAL ship."
"What's that?"
"I believe you heard my request."
"Oh, rot. The signal's breaking up. We appear to've developed a communications problem as well. I must have a talk with my officers about these system problems. This is HMS Lord Nelson. Nothing heard. Out."
Kwan was staring at his display, his jaw loose. "I can't believe she's doing this."
Captain Hayes' face had reddened to a deep shade approaching purple. "Damn crazy Brits."
Paul leaned toward Sindh so he could speak in a whisper. "What're they doing?"
Sindh glanced toward Captain Hayes before replying in the same low tone. "The Brits? They're going head to head with the SASALs."
"They deliberately put themselves on a collision course with that other ship so the SASALs will have to maneuver to avoid them?"
"Right. They're playing chicken, and they've one-upped the SASALs."
"You don't play that kind of game with warships. That's insane."
"Well, yes. But the Brits aren't really insane. Just very sure of their inherent superiority over every other form of human life. So it's more of a calm certainty that the other person'll blink first."
"What if the other person doesn't blink first?"
Lieutenant Sindh shook her head. "Then you end up with what the Brits would no doubt refer to as a 'regrettable turn of events.' "
Captain Hayes glared around the bridge. "Combat, do you still have a data link active with the Nelson?"
Garcia's voice held weary resignation. "They're telling us they can't read our link."
"So they can transmit but not receive?"
"Yes, sir. That's what they're saying."
"Oh, for—" Hayes bit off the rest of his comment, his fingers drumming on the arm of his chair as he glowered at his display. "They're pulling that stupid 'blind eye' trick. Just because they're named after Nelson doesn't mean they have to pretend that they are Nelson!"
Paul took a moment to recall the captain's reference. Oh, yeah. Copenhagen. The British commander sent up a signal ordering Nelson to withdraw and Nelson put his telescope to his blind eye, looked toward the signal and said he couldn't see anything. Then he went on to win the battle. Paul studied the display again, watching the red symbol marking the probable collision point blinking with increasing urgency. They won't move, will they? Sindh's right. The Brits won't back down.
"Captain?" Lieutenant Sindh asked. "Should I alert our rescue teams to be prepared for action?"
Hayes snorted, pointing at the screen. "Look at the closing rate between those ships, Lieutenant. If they hit at those speeds there won't be anything to rescue but dust particles."
Paul stared at the display, transfixed by the sight of two massive warships deliberately racing directly toward each other at tremendous velocities. Above the symbol indicating each ship, two time markers scrolled rapidly downward. The first marker, indicating time to collision, was less important at the moment than the second, which displayed the time remaining for one of the ships to maneuver to avoid the other. If either tried to take evasive action after that point, it'd be too late for the ships' drives to alter their paths through space quickly enough, and momentum would carry the ships into collision regardless. Even a glancing blow at those speeds and with that mass would be devastating to both ships.
The Michaelson's maneuvering system spoke clearly across the now otherwise silent bridge, its composed voice at odds with the urgency of the message. "HMS Lord Nelson and SASAL warship Tamerlane will collide unless at least one maneuvers within five minutes of my mark.. . . . Mark. Recommend advise both ships to undertake coordinated maneuvers to avoid collision."
Captain Hayes answered the Michaelson's system without looking away from his display. "We already thought of that."
Kwan leaned toward the Captain. "Maybe if we fired ahead of the SASAL ship, it'd be scared and—"
"No can do, XO. That'd definitely be a confrontation. I'm not free to do that."
"Can we fire just in front
of the Nelson, then?"
Sindh answered this time. "No, sir. The firing angle is too oblique given our relative positions."
"Four minutes remaining before collision between HMS Lord Nelson and SASAL warship Tamerlane becomes inevitable," the Michaelson's maneuvering systems reminded them.
Captain Hayes triggered his communications again. "HMS Lord Nelson, this is the Exercise Movement Coordinator on the USS Michaelson. For God's sake maneuver to avoid collision."
Rule of Evidence Page 5
