Hellfire (THEIRS NOT TO REASON WHY) (7 page)

For a moment, even the muffled sounds of construction outside the boardroom were absent, leaving them in grim silence. No one contested her statement. Each person in the room was a soldier, even the chaplain; they knew the Blockade wouldn’t hold forever, and most had heard of Ia’s efforts to stem the resumption of the old Salik War, at the Battle of the Banquet. She and the other escapees had killed many of the highest-ranked generals two months ago while trying to escape, but the enemy’s war machines were still out there somewhere, just waiting for strong enough leaders to reseize control.

Ia waited for a couple of faint thumping noises, then spoke. “Moving on to the laser cannonry, this ship has twice as many L-pods as P-pods: twelve Swordstrike-, twelve Skystrike-, and eight Starstrike-rated cannons. I am, of course, referring to the
manned
L-pod stations,” she added. “That means we can have anywhere from twelve to sixty Swordstrike-, twelve to sixty Skystrike-, and eight to forty Starstrike-rated laser cannons capable of firing at any one point in time.
That
is what rates this frigate-sized ship as a battle cruiser in its weaponry.

“However, under normal circumstances we will
not
be firing all weapons,” she cautioned the others, holding up her hand to forestall the grins on some of the faces before her. “The object is to hide our extreme combat capability via retractable weapons pods and pretend to be nothing more than an oddly elongated frigate, possibly even a small destroyer-class starship. This is because we will be going deep into enemy territory. If they know what we are truly capable of, they will try to hit us with everything they’ve got from the outset. I’d rather use a minimum of resources to get a particular job done so that we can conserve fuel, supplies, and personal energies for future engagements.

“In addition to the standard and hidden armaments, we also have mechsuit bays in the bow, fore, aft, and stern sections of the ship,” Ia explained, highlighting those areas in brown. “Plus two transport and cargo shuttles in the bow and stern shuttle bays, and two boarding podships in each bay. The Infirmary is located in the amidships section, along with the main bridge; there is an auxiliary bridge in the stern section, but it probably will never need to be used as such. There may, however, be a skeleton crew sitting watch in there at certain times, depending upon the damages we take from combat.

“Over the next two months, all five lifesupport bays will have their tanks and hydroponic systems filled, balanced, checked, and double-checked. Before we leave dock, the manufactories will be loaded with raw stock, the storage holds loaded with food, clothing, toiletries, and various spare parts, and the projectile bays loaded with various types of missiles, some standard, some nonstandard. You will be expected to help load supplies in whatever spare time you might have, particularly toward the end—and once we leave dry dock,
you
will be the only crew permitted on board, particularly when it comes to loading or off-loading supplies. That is one of the reasons why
everyone will be fitted for mechsuit armor, so that it can double as a stevedore suit.

“Of the various other facilities on board this ship, their maintenance cycles, so on and so forth, please consult your Company manuals; those things can be learned in due time,” Ia directed the patiently listening men and women arranged around her. “We’re almost done, so please bear with me just a few more minutes. The last thing I have to say at this time about our new ship concerns its main weapon.

“Many of you may have noticed the rather obvious blank section along the core of this ship. The reason why it has been left blank isn’t because it’s hollow,” she told her fellow soldiers. “It has been left blank deliberately because its contents are Ultra Classified. There are four people on board this ship who have a high enough clearance to know exactly what lies in the axial core. Three of you are enlisted engineers who have actually worked on this ship, one per duty watch, and the fourth is myself. The rest of you do not need to know.”

The central core of the ship schematics turned black. Orders flashed down the secondary screens, marked with the unsmiling face of a middle-aged, Asian woman: the Admiral-General herself.

“As you can see, your standing orders are as follows,” Ia stated, reciting them for those who couldn’t be bothered to read the text. “Should any of you discuss the nature, capabilities, or mission of this ship, and in particular anything associated with its main cannon, with anyone outside of your fellow crew members, our immediate superiors, being Admiral John Genibes, then Admiral-General Christine Myang herself, without our permission, you will be automatically accused of Grand Treason. This accusation includes discussing it near any open comm pickup,
and
includes discussing it with any member of the Terran United Planets Council, all the way up through
both
the Secondaire and the Premier.

“I would far rather fill out the paperwork resulting in my shooting you preemptively, than suffer the required execution alongside you, should you be so asteroid-headed,” Ia warned them dryly. “
Any
query into the nature of our main cannon by any outsider who is not either Admiral Genibes or the Admiral-General herself needs to be noted, logged, and reported. Not only are you to log the time and identity of your questioner, if
you
are
queried, you are required to answer, ‘I’m sorry, but I am not authorized to discuss such subjects at my level of clearance.’ At that point, you will pass that person and their query up the chain of command to me, so that I can handle it for you.

“Make no mistake about this:
I
am the only person on board this ship with the authorization to discuss this ship with outsiders,” she finished bluntly. “That’s why a slip of
your
tongue is to be considered treason in the eyes of the Command Staff. Some of this, you need to know so you can grasp just how much firepower and thus work we have ahead of us. Some of this, I really shouldn’t be telling to any of you because it is so heavily classified.

“But since we’re all Human, I’m giving you permission to discuss this among yourselves, so you don’t burst with unspoken curiosity. Just don’t do it near any open comm links or active airlocks. Any questions so far?”

A hand tentatively rose, roughly one-third up the tiered seats from the officer’s stage. Ia recognized the owner as Private Helia Dixon, one of her former crew members from her Navy days. The last Ia had seen of the other woman in person had been a final visit with her in the infirmary of the
Mad Jack
, before Dixon had been packed off for regeneration and reconstructive surgery of her combat-lost leg just over one year ago.

“Private Dixon, it’s good to see you again,” Ia acknowledged, pointing at the other woman. “You have a question?”

“It’s good to see you, too, sir. Um…are we allowed to query
you
about this main cannon, sir?” Dixon asked her. “Does it pop out of the ship or something?”

“I’m sorry, Private; that’s one of the things I can’t tell you much about,” Ia apologized. “I
can
tell you that the cannon does not ‘pop out of’ this ship like one of the pod turrets. Instead, this ship was built
around
the main cannon. We will be living and working in the outer housing for the barrel of a gun so large and powerful, the design team nicknamed it the Godstrike cannon. I cannot tell you the exact energy conversion rate at this time, nor the exact power output generated by it…but I can say that if you compare a pocket-sized holdout pistol to a Starstrike-class laser cannon, that’s what the Starstrike is to the Godstrike cannon.

“For those of you who are curious on how a ship-sized laser
could work with an OTL nose cone,” Ia continued, carefully distracting the crew from further inquiry attempts with a couple of facts, “the
Hellfire
has been retrofitted at the bow with three moveable, combat-redundant hyperarrays, which will be stored in armored housings just beyond the edge of the of the cannon’s aperture. They will be swung into place when we are ready to travel via other-than-light. We have also been fitted with an identical OTL nose cone at the rear of this ship.

“All four arrays can be detached and moved to any of the other mounts in the event one is damaged…which they will be at some point. But I’m hoping to outmaneuver most incoming enemy fire. Because of her streamlined silhouette and the way the FTL warp panels and insystem thrusters are aligned, the
Hellfire
is capable of immense acceleration in an emergency despite her seeming mass—in fact, we can accelerate at three-quarters the speed of a Harrier-Class ship,” Ia stated. “We can also accelerate two-thirds as fast while flying backwards, too.”

That earned her several startled looks. Having served on a Harrier-sized ship on Blockade Patrol, Ia knew very well the
Hellfire
was at least seven times as long and twenty-five times as massive. She nodded slowly, confirming her words.

“Yes, we can move that fast. The
Hellfire
has been fitted with the absolute latest in dual-use FTL/insystem thruster panels. She has also been fitted with cross-aligned thruster panels so that we can slip sideways at very fast speeds—the only thing we cannot do fast is swap ends. In fact, the designers almost named this class of ship the Dragonfly Class for its maneuverability,” she added, a fact she had learned in her dips through the timestreams. “But with the coming war, they decided on the Harasser classification.

“As you can guess, the Lock-and-Web Law of shipboard life is particularly vital on this vessel. For most instances, I will be able to give everyone fifteen-, five-, and one-minute warnings before any such sudden maneuvers must occur,” Ia admitted. “Unfortunately, even I can be blindsided by low-probability rolls for things happening sooner than anticipated, so it’s best to secure as you go. There are many redundant interior safety-field nodes on board, but a pen can still be turned into a deadly weapon by even a mild change in speed or direction if it happens abruptly.

“So. This concludes your introduction to the starship TUPSF
Hellfire
and its cadre,” Ia told them. “For all other questions regarding the capabilities of this ship, as well as the locations of your berth and work assignments plus copies of your instruction schedules for the next two months, please consult the Company Bible…which your Platoon sergeants will now hand out to each of you.” She tapped a couple of buttons on her command bracer and gestured at the three sections of tiered seats. “Your Platoon assignments are being streamed to your arm units now; please position yourselves accordingly, with the 1st Platoon to your left and the 3rd to your right.

“Each manual has been tailored very specifically to each one of you—I will state right here and now,” Ia added, “that I expect each and every one of you to obey my orders to the fullest, because the vast majority of them will come backed with the weight of my precognitive abilities. I also expect each and every one of you to
think
for yourselves, and to discuss the needs of your jobs with each other.

“You will see this duality stressed throughout your Company Bible,” Ia said, tapping her arm unit. “I need each one of you to be able to work independently for the betterment of this ship and our missions, to be able to offer suggestions and implement beneficial changes in procedures and tactics where needed,
and
I need you to obey me when I require it. However, I will only step in when something
has
to be done a specific way. For the rest of it, I need all of you to help me. You are the best people I can find for this job because you are flexible, innovative, and more than capable.

“So. Please double-check that your datachip matches your name before opening your manuals, as they are indeed tailored to each member of this crew. You will also be issued your Company flashpatches at this time. Wear your Company patch with pride, and strive hard to earn and uphold the high reputation it will come to represent. You are now free to organize yourselves and to get to know each other,” Ia concluded. “Dinner is scheduled on the dry-dock station in one hour for the enlisted and the noncoms; you may consider yourselves dismissed in half an hour, though you are welcome to stay for the full hour.”

A final flick of her mind replaced the ship schematics on the main screen with the image of their new flashpatch, a stylized logo of a snowflake surrounded by flames. The colors were
subdued, with the snowflake stitched in a mild silvery shade with pale blue accents, centered on a striated, dull red and orange background. To either side, the Platoon sergeants stood and picked up one of the three small cases resting on the table; each one was lined with neatly slotted chips stamped with its rightful owner’s name.

Turning off her headset, Ia fished out several datachips from her pocket. She took a moment to sort them out, handing each one to its proper owner.

“Each of you has your own Company Bible to study as well. Lieutenants Rico, Spyder, and Helstead…once you’ve uploaded your manuals, please spend the next hour getting to know the individual members of your Platoons. After that hour is up, we will have an officers’ meeting in the officers’ mess over dinner here on board the
Hellfire
,” she warned them, passing chips to Grizzle and Bennie. “We’ll all still be berthed either in the dry-dock station’s guest facilities for most of the next two months, or out on maneuvers while everyone gets used to their mechsuits, but our first meal together will be on board the
Hellfire
. Thankfully, the station has graciously agreed to fix and ship us a meal for tonight.”

“I don’t get it, Captain. Why are we dining on the
Hellfire
?” Bennie asked, slotting her assigned chip into her arm unit. “Why not on board the station, where the food will be served a lot hotter and faster?”

It was a legitimate question. Ia had a legitimate answer for it, too. “Because I’m trying to abide by the letter of our standing orders,” she stated, handing Mishka and Harper their chips. “I’m going to be discussing the capabilities and requirements of the main weapon with the rest of you during dinner. That means I need to do so on board this ship, in a secured location, with no chance of eavesdroppers or comm equipment picking it up and broadcasting it. The officers’ mess in the fore section on Deck 4 is already finished, nowhere near the rest of the current round of construction, and fully soundproofed, so it is the ideal location for that discussion. Any other questions?”