"Fore and aft batteries, engage bogeys! Extreme overload mode has been unlocked and authorized! Maximum rate of fire. Pour it to em' boys! Point defense? Prepare for imminent missile attack!"
The Asimov, now able to bring the full power of her broadside into the fight, stopped toying with the enemy and began discharging her weapons with extreme prejudice. Both front and rear batteries opened up on their selected targets at their maximum rate of fire!
***
Heard's World Star System, January 8, 2599.
The gunboats, with their less powerful weapons, continued firing, scoring an occasional hit on their easy to hit target. Both ships were using a sort of "corkscrew" evasion tactic which consisted of random rolls and turns. This tactic made them difficult to hit but also reduced the accuracy of their own fire.
As they came into the effective range of the destroyer's weapons, the two gunboat captains watched in horrified amazement as a skillfully applied blast of the destroyer's attitude thrusters rolled the ship slightly to port and another blip on the side thrusters brought her stern around to starboard. One moment they were attacking a destroyer head on, high and low on two radically different vectors. Within the space of five seconds, they were facing an enemy that was now hurtling through space towards them with her starboard side and her full broadside leading!
Up until this moment in the engagement, the two gunboats had been dodging an occasional two pulse volley from the almost lackadaisical fire emanating from the forward turret of the destroyer. The roll and slew maneuver enabled the Asimov to bring all four of her main battery projectors, fore and aft, to bear on the enemy. Gunners in both turrets acquired their designated targets and the Revolutionary forces were subjected to the full fury of one of the most modern ships in the Federation Navy. The latest generation of pulse beam projector systems combined with the extra high levels of power from the most powerful reactor ever put into a destroyer meant that the punishment she could dish out was devastating! Running the pulse beam projector system in extreme overload mode only served to intensify the mayhem!
Suddenly the space around both of the enemy gunboats was literally filled with a hail of pulse beam bolts as the Asimov's projectors began firing at the rate of four pulses per second from each turret. The gunners, aided by the computer augmented sighting systems, began to score hits. A lot of hits! The Farat, attempting to take evasive action, was almost immediately hit by two all but simultaneous pulses. Her shields went down and her evasive maneuvering ceased. With the ship briefly traveling on a very predicable course, the forward gunners on the Asimov locked solidly onto their target and tore it to pieces with more than ten pulse bolt strikes in the space of the next five seconds. The Farat turned into a streaking ball of expanding plasma.
The Falco had been luckier, she had so far managed to avoid all but a single pulse beam strike and though her shields were overloaded, she had pulled within extreme missile range and, in view of the sudden change in intensity of the Asimov's offensive fire, elected to empty both missile tubes and retreat. The two missiles, under the remote control of technicians on the gunboat and programed to take different routes to their target, left the Falco's missile tubes and streaked towards the Asimov.
In the meantime, the forward turret on the Asimov spun to acquire the new target and as the Falco flared away in an attempt to break off the engagement, she was suddenly subjected to twice as much firepower as she had barely been able to stay ahead of only seconds earlier. A hailstorm of pulses from both of Asimov's turrets stitched into her and, in that hellacious crossfire, she too exploded into a ball of expanding plasma.
Falco's missiles, now without any human guidance, continued on course towards their target before succumbing to the Asimov's state of the art point defenses. The new point defense system, which up till now had never been tested in battle, filled the space in front of each missile with literally thousands of five point five megajoule pulse bolts from two automated, point defense, ultra rapid-fire pulse cannons, one on each end of the Asimov. Both missiles detonated harmlessly a good safe distance from the destroyer.
Suddenly the battle was over and the space around the Asimov was empty and quiet. Captain Shirleen Nesbitt wanted to shout out loud in triumph and jubilation. She could see the relief and the disbelief on the faces of everyone on the bridge, including that of her first officer, Ensign Massa Sukamoto. Instead of shouting in jubilation, she calmly spoke into the PA system of the ship.
"Two enemy ships destroyed! Good job everyone!"
The entire ship erupted into the shouts of jubilation that the Captain would not allow herself to indulge in. Instead, she wore a huge smile and hoped her overwhelming sense of relief didn't show too much. She allowed the crew a few minutes to celebrate before bringing everyone back to reality.
"We still have a job to do, everyone. We need to go and check out the activity on that moon. Stage two communications? Get me the Istanbul at the Reclamation Center."
One other difference between the Asimov and almost every other ship of her class was that the Asimov was outfitted with a Stage II Whitney communications console. Since the ship made frequent trips between the Sol-Terra and Santana Quadrants and was often carrying high-ranking officers and Very Important Civilians, the ability to communicate directly and quickly with the authorities in either Quadrant was considered a necessity. The bow section of the destroyer had been extended by two meters over other ships of her class to accommodate the bulk of the large communications device. The Asimov's powerplant had also been upgraded slightly to provide the power to run the communicator while maintaining most of her other systems. The ship could not hyperjump or use shields while the communicator was being operated, however, such was the power demand of the Stage II communicator.
The communications tech activated the Stage II equipment.
Chapter 33.
"Le marchand de la mort, est mort. (The merchant of death is dead)..."
Naccobus/New Ceylon Star System, in the UTFN "Secret Scrapyard" near the L-5 point of the gas giant, Naccobus V, January 8, 2599.
Having obtained Commander Kresge's permission to proceed, the Secret Scrapyard salvage crew attempted to board the homely little ship they had discovered. Hawkins connected his portable battery pack to the docking port next to the airlock door of the ungainly looking craft. A number pad within the docking port just to the right of the power inlet port lit up.
"Do we have codes to unlock this main airlock, Ensign?" asked Harris.
Carlisle consulted her wrist computer. "Yes, Lieutenant." She read off a string of numbers. Harris punched the sequence into the keypad and pressed the "enter" button on the bottom of the pad."
The airlock door cycled open. Harris, Hawkins and Carlisle carefully entered the experimental ship. With nothing powered up, the ship was pitch black inside, just as the situation had been on the Mark V destroyer earlier. The salvagers had to rely on their suit lights to find their way.
"Do we have any kind of schematics at all on this creation?" asked Harris.
"All I have is a rough draft but I don't know how up to date it is," replied Carlisle, who had been in constant contact with her wrist computer." It doesn't look like they had a blueprint or anything."
As was so often the case when exploring an unpowered ship, the three of them were weightless. The gravity of the asteroid was so light as to be negligible. After they had pulled themselves through several hatches it became obvious that the ship they were on was definitely a prototype. The last hatch they had negotiated had gone through the double-walled bulkhead that marked the joint between the two halves of the ship. The level of the deck in the forward portion of the ship didn't quite match that of the aft portion. The aft floor was a noticeable five centimeters lower.
"It be lookin' like they was makin' most o' this up as they went," observed Hawkins.
"Prototypes are often like that," said Talbot, over their suit radios. He had remained in the cutter and was monitoring the exploratio
n team's progress from there. "It looks like they needed the stern section from one cruiser and the bow of the other. In a way it makes sense."
"How so, Frank?" asked Harris.
"The aft section appears to be from one of the more modern classes of ship. That would give the hybrid considerably more power and provide more modern drive systems than using the older ship components would have. The bow section, from the Argus Class, originally carried a couple of big railguns. By removing all of the extra internal machinery that was originally installed to service the railgun emplacement, they had the necessary space to be able to retract the pulse beam turret. Ingenious, but it surely isn't pretty."
"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Frank," said Harris.
"A cliché, Lieutenant but I agree. However, my statement still stands: that is one butt-ugly ship!"
"Maybe the enemy will be laughing so hard that they won't realize how dangerous she is until it's too late!" said Harris.
"Hope springs eternal," said Frank.
"That's sounds an awful lot like another cliché, Frank!"
"Hey, I'm an old man, original thoughts get harder to come by with each passing day!"
"We're in the engineering section now," said Harris. "Things actually look pretty good down here. Did you ever work with any of these cruiser power plants, Frank?"
"Not the ones on the class of the donor ship, but I don't think they changed them too much. If anything, the newer type would be more automated."
"Stand by for a bit, Frank. We're going to check on the reactors."
"Standing by."
Hawkins plugged a meter into a receptacle on the control panel for the old ship's starboard reactor. With absolutely nothing on the prototype ship powered up, the parameters he could access were limited to passive queries but this information should let them know whether or not there was any reason to continue their explorations. He was rewarded by a set of readings indicating that the reactor had plenty of fuel. He accessed a few more of the limited options available and wasn't able to find any glaring reasons why they couldn't attempt a restart. He checked the port reactor and found that it was in similarly good condition.
"The reaction fluid reservoirs are nearly full," announced Harris, who had been inspecting the drive components. "Frank? I think it's time you came on board and helped us give this...'Foul Beastie' a more thorough inspection before we worry about trying to start either of the reactors. If everything checks out, then we can see about starting one of the power plants."
"I'll be there as soon as I can, Lieutenant. Give me about ten minutes."
After Talbot joined the rest of the crew, they performed a more in-depth inspection of the ship. A run-through of the other systems on the prototype ship didn't turn up any problems but they all realized that had learned about as much as they could learn without actually powering up her reactors. With the control systems, life support and other systems on the experimental ship appearing to be intact and therefore operational, the team made the decision to power up the port side reactor.
From what they could tell from their exploration of the ship and the sketchy information available on Carlisle's wrist computer, the port side reactor was used for propulsion, life support, artificial gravity and other necessary ship's functions. Output from the starboard reactor appeared to be dedicated totally to powering the shields and the weapon.
Having been through the reactor start-up sequences on several ships just within the last few weeks, the now well-seasoned salvage team had the old reactor up and running within about an hour and a half. With the reactor stabilized, they immediately activated life support and turned the heat on. While the ship was in the process of heating up and pressurizing, Carlisle and Talbot went around the bridge area, switching on the various consoles.
"Sensor console active," said Carlisle.
"Helm active," reported Talbot.
"Weapons board active," said Carlisle, "but I won't have any power to the capacitors unless we power up the other reactor."
"All in good time, Tamara," said Talbot.
Before too long they had powered up all of the systems they thought they'd need and were encouraged to see that everything appeared to be working. After giving everyone sufficient warning, Hawkins switched on the artificial gravity. With the ship beginning to warm up, and the sleeping facilities on the small cutter barely adequate for any kind of comfort, the salvagers decided to get a couple of hours of sleep on board the experimental craft. Harris took the first watch and went back on board the cutter, in case someone from the Scrapyard attempted to contact them or something went wrong on the experimental ship.
Carlisle, Talbot and Hawkins had gravitated to what had to be one of the most intriguing locations on the entire ship, and found themselves in the bow section of the ship inside the retractable turret. In this area, there were surprisingly generous accommodations for six crewmen. By turning the heat way up in that relatively confined area, it had become warm enough for reasonable comfort while the rest of the ship continued to warm more slowly.
It had been a very long day, all of them were tired and there wasn't a lot that could be done until the rest of the ship warmed up some more. Without knowing for certain if the old prototype ship was totally safe, they left their suits on but had removed their helmets.
"I surely do not have the energy I had as a young man," said Talbot, as he stretched out on one of the bunks against the side of the compartment.
"I'd say you're doing just fine," said Carlisle. "I'm pretty tired myself."
"Those were the days," mused Talbot. "I was going to change the Universe!"
"I've read some of your writings and seen some videos from your 'Crusade.' You were pretty persuasive. You haven't changed your mind about any of that stuff have you?"
Talbot thought about that for a long moment.
"Yes and no," he replied, finally.
"Would you care to elaborate?" asked Carlisle.
Talbot pondered his reply for a few moments longer. Finally he responded, not with an answer but with another question.
"How do you wish to be remembered, Tamara?" asked Talbot, "What will your legacy be?"
"I...guess I've been too busy to think much about it," she replied, "Where are you going with this?"
"Pondering such things can have a profound effect on how a man conducts himself. Think about it this way: what if you could read your own obituary? What would it say about you?"
"What an extraordinary thought," replied the Ensign.
"It actually happened to very famous man. Certainly you've heard of the Nobel Prize?"
"Of course, it has been awarded for outstanding accomplishments for centuries now."
"What you may not know is that Alfred Nobel, who established the prize, was the inventor of dynamite, and a number of other even more advanced stable explosives. While the materials were used for many beneficial purposes like mining and demolition, they were also almost immediately put to use for war. Before Nobel died, he also had invested in a number of arms manufacturing facilities."
"Dynamite and arms manufacturing. I hadn't heard any of this," said the Ensign.
"As a matter of fact, this turret we currently find ourselves in was manufactured by Bofors. Alfred Nobel was the owner of Bofors before he died in 1896."
"So how did he come to be readin' his own obituary?" asked Hawkins, who had also been caught up in Frank's discussion.
"It's really a pretty good story. Here's what happened. In 1888, Alfred's older brother Ludwig died of a heart attack after a long illness but several newspapers mistakenly thought that the Nobel who had died was Alfred. Because of that mistake, Alfred read what would have been his own obituary in the local newspaper. When he saw that he was to be remembered as 'The Merchant of Death' he vowed to change his legacy. When he finally did die, the bulk of his fortune was dedicated to the Nobel Prize which is, as you noted, Dr. Carlisle, still one of the most important awards that can be bestowed."
"Wow," replied Carlisle.
Perhaps it was the fatigue or the fact that the old engineer cum philosopher did not feel threatened by the present company. Once Carlisle had gotten him talking, it seemed that Talbot had more to say, quite a lot more.
"I confess that I was a great deal angrier when I was a young man. Even knowing that the factors underlying the continued success of the various religions and economic systems are very complex, I tended, as many do, to oversimplify, to see too many concepts in stark black and white. Naturally, I also liked to debate and one can find ready arguments for these subjects anywhere at a moment's notice. As I got older and more weary I also became more wary."
"So you just got tired of it?" asked Carlisle.
"I suppose that's one way to describe it. It was a transition that actually took several years but one day I realized that converting people over to my way of thinking didn't seem to be as important anymore. I came to some other realizations. At the core, what is most important about religions, economic systems and governments is that they all share the same basic feature: Ultimately, they all depend on the faith of their constituents. People have to believe in them or these institutions will fail.
Force can be employed to subjugate the populace, witness what we are currently caught up in, but there will still be those who never bend their knee and but wait an opportunity to push back. They pass these beliefs on to the next generation and that generation on to the next. With that in mind I suppose it's easy to see where all of the hatred between and within the various religions comes from. However, as far as I can determine, none of the major religions has a doctrine of hatred at its core. The hatred is fostered by men seeking power; who twist the doctrines to match their own uses. As I have said many times, where does it all end?"
He stopped there and took a deep breath. "Sorry about the long, drawn out answer but, as you can see, it's a frightfully complicated subject. I will still stand by the things I've written and spoken about but I realize now that it is far more important that the various factions of Mankind figure out how to co-exist in spite of their differences. That's why I accepted Ambassador Saladin's invitation to be a part of his summit meeting."
The Santana Nexus (Junkyard Dogs Book 3) Page 21
