Wielding The Hammer.  By Andrew “RN-Magic” Clark

The kid was huffing and puffing so badly he couldn’t speak when he burst into CIC.  As important as whatever it was he had to tell me was, I couldn’t tear myself away from the Combat Display.  I held up a palm, motioning him to silence.  It could wait until he could breathe.
“Captain, Sir!  We have a problem!”
I nodded towards the CDU.  “I know that Ensign.  It doesn’t look too bad though.  The fighters off the ARCmage are doing well against the Shivan fighters, and that Moloch over there is no match for a Deimos.”
“That’s the problem sir.  The ARCmage was running tests on the Lartis again, and they can’t disengage the interlock.  They don’t have any of the special tags left after that last test run, and the fighters are too busy to come back in to reload even if they had any.”
That did indeed change the tactical situation.  Without her beam cannon on line, the ARCmage could be pounded into scrap even by something as small as a Moloch.  I wondered for a second if the damned Shivans could somehow sense our weakness.  Their attack against a stronger force had seemed like suicide at first.  Now…
I turned back to the Combat Display Unit.  It was a holographic projection, a cube two meters on a side.  The battle going on around us was shown inside.  Fighters showed as brightly glowing dots of red and green.  Red was for the enemy.  It was a little like a three dimensional version of a pilots HUD.  The red and green dots moved around in the display like a swarm of insects.  Here, and there, a dot would go dark.  So far, it was the red dots that were going out more than the green.  On one side was our battle group, consisting of the ARCmage and my ship, the Lightning.  On the other side, and growing steadily closer was the lone Shivan ship.
When that Moloch got within range, it’s beam cannon would begin slicing into the ARCmage.  There were still too many fighters out there to divert any to trying to disarm the Shivan ship.  The ARCmage was a sitting duck.
The Ensign was standing there, waiting.  The entire room was watching me, waiting.  This was the joy of command.  They were all waiting for me to somehow magically make things right.
One thing I’ve learned, it’s to Do Something.  It may be the wrong thing, but getting people moving is the important thing.  I turned to the crewman at the ship’s intercom.  “Get me Chief Trask, and Dr. Angelou.  Have them meet me in my stateroom.”  I turned back to the Ensign.  “Get the message back to the ARCmage that we understand the situation, and are working on the solution.”  He looked relieved as he went.
I wasn’t so relieved, but I didn’t let it show.  Look confident, especially in a crisis; another of the lessons of Command.  If you look like things are under control, people don’t panic as easily.
A science vessel like the Lightning lacked both the weapons and the armor to engage in combat.  If the Shivans took out the ARCmage, they would have us for an after dinner snack.
The Doctor and the Chief arrived together.  They had probably both been down in the Weapons Lab fiddling around with something.  The Doctor probably didn’t even realize we were under attack.  The Chief would know.  He’d have heard the messages on the PA, and known what they meant.
“Ok Doc, Chief, here’s the deal.  We are under attack by a small Shivan force, a Moloch cruiser with an oversized fighter complement.  The ARCmage was testing the LRTIS when they jumped in, and they can’t get the interlock to disengage.  What can we do?”
Doctor Angelou hadn’t realized there was an attack going on.  I watched the changes of expression on his face.  He’d come in wearing his Irritated At The Interruption face.  The most important of the many civilians on board my ship, he often acted as if it was his ship, and the military personnel were just there to be his servants.  He’d had some speech about how I shouldn’t disturb him from his Important Works poised on the tip of his tongue when he’d walked into my stateroom.  Now he was going gray around the edges, the idea that his life might be in danger sinking in.
Chief Trask just waited calmly.  A lifer in the GTVA, he’d been in more battles than he could easily count.  He was probably the most senior man on board.  Although he probably knew less about experimental weapon design than even I did, his presence in the Doctor’s lab helped immensely.  He kept the crew from rioting and throwing the civilians out the airlock.
I waited a few moments, then tried again.  “Doctor!”  He jumped a bit and looked at me.  “What can we do?”  He just stared at me, eyes wide with fear.
I sighed.  “Ok, one piece at a time.  Why can’t they disengage the interlock on the LRTIS Doctor Angelou?”
At last he found his voice.  “Well…  It isn’t like there’s a switch.  The whole thing is routed through the ships sensor array, and back into the weapon system.  There are hardware and software considerations.  You more or less have to reprogram the targeting system to get back the standard fire control sets.”
“What if they reboot the Fire Control computer?  Will that clear it?”  I saw from the look of horror on the Chief’s face that I was on the wrong track, even before the Doctor said it.
“That might clear the interlock sets, but they would also lose all the calibration data.  It might take hours to get the beams retuned and focused enough to use, and even then I couldn’t speak for their accuracy.”  Angelou wiped sweat from his forehead.  “The best and fastest way to get the beams back up on the ARCmage is to shut down the LRTIS the proper way.  With my team, we could get it working inside of half an hour.”
I considered putting the Doc and his techs on a shuttle and sending them over, and then thought better of it.  Those Shivan fighters would be all over an Elysium before it got a quarter of the way through.  Standard Shivan battle tactics were to go after ships like that by preference.  They had plenty of fighters out there to do the job.  Something about that fact was starting to bother me, but I couldn’t quite think what was wrong about it.
“Could you talk the people on the ARCmage through the procedure Doctor?”
“I could try, but it would take so much longer.”  He frowned at me.  “Why?”
The Chief answered before I could.  “Do you want to fly a transport over to the ARCmage in the middle of a battle Doctor Angelou?”
“Oh.”  He sat down in a chair and started staring at the viewscreen on the wall.
“Our best bet is to have you talk the technicians on the ARCmage through clearing the interlock.  Unless maybe…”  I thought about it for a second.  “… You could tell them how to rewire a TAG missile so they could use the system as is.  Would that be quicker?”
The Long Range TAG Interlock System, LRTIS, or Lartis as it tended to get called, was designed to allow a ship to use its beam cannon at greater than normal ranges.  A Targeting Acquisition and Guidance missile would be launched at distant targets, and the interlock between the ships sensors and the weapons subsystem would allow the beam cannon to hit whatever the missile struck.  It was something I had thought of, after flying some of the initial tests on the TAG missiles.  I’d routed my suggestion up the chain of command, and years later Command had used it as an excuse to transfer me to the Lightning.
Doctor Angelou’s frown got even deeper.  “The TAG missiles we use for the LRTIS require special hardware.  They don’t have the materials on the ARCmage.  They can’t do it.  And I don’t know if I can talk some dumb grunt through disabling the LRTIS before we are all killed.  It’s complicated.  They’ve probably already screwed things up beyond repair trying to get the interlock off already.”
“Do we have the materials to put together a TAG on the Lightning?”  I moved over in front of the viewscreen, caught the Doctor’s eyes.  “We aren’t dead yet Doctor.  We aren’t beaten unless we stop trying.”
He closed his eyes, and began muttering.  Going through a list of components and stock numbers, from the sounds of it.  I left him to it and turned to the Chief.  “Any ideas?”
The Chief smiled at me.  “I’m not paid to think.  That’s your job.  That’s why they pay you the big money.”  It was a kind of tired joke, but I found myself grinning anyway.  Even if the Doctor could cobble together a TAG for us, I didn’t know how we would deliver it.  A science ship doesn’t even have a missile launcher.  There we sat, next to a warship loaded down with the best weapons the GTVA had, and it couldn’t fire.  And all we had were the toys we were tinkering with.
Thinking about those toys…
“Chief!”  It came out as a shout.  “What is the status on the Moljonir tests?”
“We have it in the testing cradle, charging for it’s next…”  He realized what I was thinking and his jaw dropped.  “It just might work!  One good shot…  We could do it!”  He was all but shouting himself, and both of us were grinning like fools.
“What are you talking about?”  The Doctor was looking at us like we had lost our minds.
“Go get it ready Chief.”  The Chief all but ran from the stateroom.  I turned to the doctor, trying to calm myself down.  “We have a Moljonir class beam cannon in a test rig down in the weapon lab, don’t we?”  
“Yes, we do.  It is in charge mode, waiting until we can run ships main power into it for the next test shot.”  He still didn’t get it.
“Doctor Angelou, we have one of the biggest and most powerful beam cannon the GTVA has yet produced, sitting down in the lab.  The ARCmage can’t shoot, but we can!”
He saw it, but looked doubtful.  “We don’t have an aiming system to speak of.  The Moljonir isn’t even perfected.  It might blow up there in the cradle.  It isn’t charged.”
“Ok, that’s why it won’t work.  Now you go down to the lab and you make it work.  I intend to live Doctor, and I think you do to.  You have your technicians, you have whatever we can give you.  It’s the best chance we have.”
I went to the intercom.  “Captain to Engineering.” 
“Engineering Aye.” 
“Bring the plant to full power.  Get me all the juice you can.  We’re going to need it.” 
“Aye Sir.  Plant to full power.”
I returned to CIC feeling much better.  We weren’t out of the woods yet, but we had a chance.  I had a message sent to the ARCmage, informing them of our plan, and then I went back to studying the CDU.  There were still a good many red dots out there.  The feeling that something about that was wrong returned to me, even as I watched.  So many red dots.  So many Shivan fighters.  Our pilots off the ARCmage were winning, but the process was slow.  They were running out of missiles out there.  I could see little groupings where our ships were covering each other while they rearmed from the supply ship.
Why were there so many fighters?  A Moloch couldn’t even carry that many.
Oh no.
Suddenly I knew why there were so many fighters, and why a Moloch would attack a Deimos.  We were in a whole lot more trouble than I’d imagined.
That Moloch just had to be the lead ship in a convoy.  Somewhere behind it were who knew how many other ships, probably charging their engines for the trip through the jump node.  At any moment, we were going to have company.
I went to go look at the Moljonir, and the men scrambling around preparing it.  The beam cannon filled one of the main bays, and when it was deployed, it would be even larger.  A power plant larger than the one that powered my ship would be attached, and the whole thing would be put in a maneuver casing.  They were a new idea in jump node control, sentry guns with the firepower to kill a capitol ship.  The solid mass of the thing was comforting.
I walked around, staying out of the way, and looking calm and confident.  Having the Captain there was one of those mixed blessings.  I made the men nervous, because the Captain was watching, while at the same time having the Man In Charge around looking calm and serene helped calm their fears.  I didn’t stay long.
I went down into Engineering instead.  As always the noise and heat came as a surprise.  People always picture starships sailing along quietly in the dark of space, without thinking of how much noise a power plant makes.  In truth, there is always at least a low rumble that permeates the ship, and inside the Engineering spaces you have to shout to be heard.
They were busy down here as well, but that is pretty much always the case.  I stayed out of the way, moving around the maze of walkways and ladders looking for the Engineering Officer.  I found him half way inside the casing of some device, demonstrating the talent for swearing that is a tradition of the Space Navy.
“Full power he says.  Now.  Not ‘are we prepared’, not ‘as soon as you can’.  Oh no!  Right now and all the juice you can give me.  What kind of a doesn’t know a screw from a bolt misbegotten…”
“The kind that is standing right behind you.” I shouted into the casing.
He stopped his tirade in mid vulgarity.  There was a pause.  “Am I about to drop a pay grade?”
“Only if I don’t have full power for as long as I need it.”  I thumped the machine he was working on.  “Is that going to be a problem?”
He pulled himself out enough to see my face.  “I’m doing everything I can here.  Our last orders were for some downtime while they played with the ARCmage, so I had some things pulled for maintenance.  I’m getting things put back together as fast as I can.”
“Would it help to know that we aren’t going to be using the drives?”
“Yeah, it would.  What are we doing then?”
“We’re charging the Moljonir down in the test lab.  I need power, and lots of it, and I’m going to keep on needing it.  We may have to fire the thing more than once.”  I studied his face.  “Our lives may depend on it.  Can you do it?”
He laughed.  “I can, or I’ll die in the trying.  How about that?”
“What more could I ask?  Seriously, can you do it?”
“Yes sir.  You get full power and you get it for as long as you want it.  We are going to have to overhaul some things later on though.  I hope we get some time in port soon.”
“I’ll see what I can do.  Very good.  Carry on.”
I went to the bridge, which was pretty much deserted.  Bridges are for show really.  They serve no useful function.  Still, tradition is important, and the biggest viewscreen on the ship is in the bridge.  Using it, I could almost make out the battle.  Now and again I would see a tiny sparkle.  That was a fighter dying.  I could see the ARCmage, and the flash from it’s laser guns and flak turrets.  I could just make out the Shivan ship.  It was far enough away that I couldn’t make out any of the details.  
In my mind I could picture the strange spikes and organic looking curves of a Moloch.  I could imagine the dull red glow coming from the lit portions of the ship.  We still didn’t know what those signified.  Were they for decoration, or did they vent waste heat?
We knew so little about the Shivans.
I went back to the Command and Information Center.  The CIC is the real heart of the ship.  The Combat Display Unit showed me far more information than a viewscreen could.  The Moloch was much closer than it had seemed.  Almost in firing range.  It was coming in cautiously.  My guess was that it was hoping the fighters would soften up the ARCmage enough to give it a chance against the much more powerful ship.  There were bomber wings out there now.  They weren’t lasting long.  Shivan bombers are tough, but slow.  They make easy targets.
How I itched to be in a fighter myself.  I didn’t belong standing here watching the action.  I’d come up through the ranks from a Not Very Humble fighter jock.  I kept surviving, they kept promoting me.  I got medals, they promoted me again.  Somehow I found myself a Wing Leader, then a Squadron Commander, then flying a desk.  I’d made Captain, and they handed me a ship.
The top brass all made their rank the Old Fashioned Way.  They got it by being older than dirt, and having all the right political connections.  They went to the right schools, had the right contacts and knew where the bodies were buried.  They hated guys like me, who were too young, too poorly educated, and too free from compromises.  When we got too high in rank, they shuffled us out to non-vital positions as fast as they could.  We “lacked proper judgment and time in grade to fully understand our roles” and thus needed to spend time doing stupid nothing jobs.
That was why I was jockeying a science vessel out in the ass end of nowhere.  There had been nothing for me to do but paperwork.  I spent a lot of time processing complaints from Doctor Angelou about his treatment by the “uneducated militaristic apes”.  I don’t think he realized that I had to read all the reports he filed.
“Captain, Chief Trask reports the Moljonir is ready to fire.”  The man at the ship’s intercom panel had no idea what he was reporting, or why I looked so happy to receive the message.
I picked up a handset and punched in the code for the Weapon Lab.  I told the man who answered to give me the Chief.  A few moments later Chief Trask was on the line.  “We are as ready as we are going to be Captain.  Awaiting your order.”
“Hold your fire until that Moloch opens up on the ARCmage.  We want it as close as we can get it.  We don’t let the Shivans take a second shot.  Clear?”
“Aye Captain.  Hold until they fire, then let them have it.  Standing by.”
Time crawled.  I watched the dots spin and dart in the CDU and tracked the Moloch as it moved millimeter-by-millimeter closer.  Objectively, it took only a few minutes.  In my mind, it seemed to take hours.
At last, there was a flash as the Moloch fired all of its forward beam cannons.  The ARCmage moved under the beams, trying to keep them from being focused on any one spot for too long.
The blast from the Lightning came as a shock to everyone.  I could feel the entire ship vibrate and the discharge lit up the night of space.  A beam almost half as thick as the Moloch flared from the front of the Lightning, carving open the Shivan ship.  When the beam cut off, only debris remained.
There was silence.  Then the cheering began.  I used the handset again, got the Chief, and ordered him to charge the Moljonir again, and to do so as fast as he could.  I had trouble making myself heard.  Under the circumstances, he didn’t try and ask questions.  
“Aye aye Captain.” Was all he said.
The crew hardly noticed me as I made my way back to the Weapons Lab.  They were busy congratulating each other, or explaining what had happened to anyone who didn’t know already.
I found the Chief in the Doctor’s office.  The two of them were drinking a toast.
“How goes getting the Moljonir recharged?”
“No problems Captain.  All the hard work is already done.  Now that we have the lines in place, charging the cannon is just a matter of what the capacitors will take.”  The Chief lost some of his cheer.  “Why do we need it charged again?  There wasn’t enough left to shoot at.”
I explained my thinking about the fighters and the Moloch attacking.  When I was done, the Chief looked grave.  Doctor Angelou seemed crushed.  “More of them?”
“I think so.  With any luck not many more warships though.  It depends on what kind of convoy it is.  The rest of it may just be supply ships.  I hope so.  If it isn’t…”  I nodded towards the mass filling the bay.  “We are going to need that cannon again.”
“As long as nothing breaks, and we still have power, you’ll have it Captain.”  The Chief finished off his drink.  “She seems sound enough.  I’ll nursemaid her along.”
“I’ll put you in for a promotion Chief.  I think I’ll put us all in for promotions.”
Back in the CIC, the battle was pretty much over.  I called down to the Weapons Lab and ordered the Doctor and his team to the ARCmage to get the beam cannon on line again.  Then I waited.
Ten minutes later another ship came through the jump node, a heavy transport, followed by another couple of wings of fighters.  The Moljonir wasn’t charged yet, but it didn’t matter.  The fighters and the guns on the ARCmage were more than enough for it.  Approximately twelve minutes later the next came, and then the next.  Our best guess was that the convoy was carrying materials to construct a base of some kind.  A couple of the ships we destroyed were of a class we had never seen.
One other warship came through the node, the last ship in the convoy.  It was a Demon class destroyer.   By that time, the beam cannon on the ARCmage had been restored to operational status, the Moljonir was fully charged, and our fighters were poised at the jump node waiting for it.  
The Demon moved in towards the ARCmage, a titanic insectoid shape.  It massed more than the ARCmage and the Lightning put together.  The guns on a Demon are fewer, but more powerful than those of a Moloch.
Our fighters harried it, trying to shoot out weapon emplacements.  The Demon launched fighters of its own, providing point cover and shooting down bombs as they were launched.  It moved in to engage the ARCmage, ignoring the Lightning.  The Shivans know our ship types as well as we know theirs.  They knew where the threat was.
At least they thought they did.
We targeted the Demon’s weapons control subsystem.  If you take out whatever it is the Shivans use for fire control, they can’t properly aim their weapons.  The ARCmage maneuvered to give us the best possible shot.  Once again the ship trembled under the force as the Moljonir fired.  We hit the belly of the Demon squarely, lighting the ship in a harsh yellow glare.  The hull resisted for a few seconds, then gave all at once, and the beam punched through.  The ARCmage also fired as many of its guns as could be brought to bear.
The Demon never had a chance.    
Once again, I got a medal.  So did Chief Trask, and Engineering Officer Rhodes.  I got promoted yet again, and placed in charge of the battle group consisting of the ARCmage, the Lightning, and whatever ships we got assigned.  The rank of Commodore meant that I had even more paperwork to do, and even less to do with actually doing anything, but it wasn’t all bad.  The first thing I ordered my battle group to do was make port for some major overhauling on the Lightning, and some important redesigns to the LRTIS.
It was time for some serious shore leave.