Trials 4

After locating a suitably sized asteroid, ARC began the process of transmitting coordinate data. A steady stream of data entered the cruiser's fire control system.

It was precise, a far more consistent stream than what the pylons would give them, but the staff aboard understood that this was a calibration run. This data was likely inaccurate. That inaccuracy would never be rectified without firing a shot to see though.

Loaded in the guns were a type of rod specialized for rangefinding. Every microsecond a ship would send a pulse. This could be used to divine the flight path of an otherwise untraceably fast hunk of metal.

"Fire."

The guns fired in parallel to each other, giving a consistent spread that would hopefully hit something.

They only ripped through space for a few short seconds before arriving in the target space, a miss.

Don noted the changes in the predictive lines for some of the bodies a fair bit away from his position.

"Miss. Waiting for computer to recalibrate taking shell path into account. How long until you are cooled and loaded?"

"Three minutes. How was fall of shot?"

"Center of shot was 4.32 kilometers from center of mass."

"Range is roughly 25,000 kilometers so deviancy is about two hundredths of a percent? That's already an order of magnitude more accurate than the standard expected starting salvo. Not bad."

"It's still not great though is it? I'm sitting at about 500 kilometers though, deviancy is closer to a full percent than a tenth, an order of magnitude greater."

"What the fuck are you doing that close? We aren't using our pylons! You could have been vaporized!"

"I'm still here aren't I?"

"Yeah, but you very well couldn't have been! I don't know what they teach at the academy these days, but our rules of engagement state that a friendly craft cant be within a two degree cone when firing on target. We will not be firing until you are outside of our firing cone. Send a ping when situated. We could have blown you out of the sky!" Dodder was furious.

Recalling some of his training, he did remember something about friendlies in in a 2 degree cone. His professors and instructors never implanted that as something to be mindful of though, even when he was trained to fire these weapons.

Maybe they thought he would never be in a position to hit allies? It would make sense if they had knowledge he would be positioned on a flank.

Still, he kept to protocol, moving to a position substantially further away before letting off a radar ping, confirming his location.

"Looks like you are sufficiently distanced. Do you have a new solution for us?" He still sounded irritated.

"Yeah, sending data through now."

A few seconds passed as ARC transmitted a new positional solution to the Ranger. A few more seconds passed as the Ranger's own fire control computer made up a firing solution.

"Guns loaded and target lock. Are you clear of firing lane?"

"Yessir."

"Fire."

A few seconds passed before the rods entered the target space. One of the rods clipped the edge of the asteroid in question, creating a magnificent flash on the thermal scope and imparting a substantial amount of rotational velocity to the asteroid. Shot tracking indicated it was one of the railguns on the edges of the volley that made impact.

"One hit. Clipped edge."

"Acknowledged, send refined solution."

The next three minutes passed in silence. It would appear Dodder was still mad at Don for putting himself at risk.

"Ready to fire. If four of forty hit we will switch to concentrated and sequential fire. Are you clear of firing lane?"

"Yessir."

"Fire."

Once again the rods ripped through the space around the asteroid. Several rods made direct impact with the asteroid, breaking it apart. ARC gave an estimate that eight out of the forty rods made contact based on the position tracker trails.

"Eight suspected hits. Nice shooting."

"Crew says thanks."

"We might have a bit of a problem though."

"You didn't get hit did you?" Don could her a few chuckles in the background.

"Nah, its more like there isn't much of an asteroid left to shoot at."

It turns out being hit by objects capable of ripping through the armor of something meant to take hits did not agree with the asteroid's structural integrity. A great many chunks of varying sizes were making their way off into the reaches of space at a considerable velocity.

"Then find another one, make it bigger than a corvette. Also, can you give us fall of shot data? All we see is dots from their firing lines. Information on which cannons were on target will be useful."

ARC immediately sent the relevant data.

"That was quick." In the fire control room, the officers in charge of target acquisition and solution refinement were looking over the data, trying to match the shot paths with the projections from their barrels. Even with the assistance of computers it was not an easy task, small rocks or clouds of dust that were not picked up by scanners could make a rod deviate from it's course. Identification was easier with a second perspective though.

2 minutes passed before they had an acceptable degree of certainty on which impact belonged to which turret. "It looks like both center sector turrets made full impact while the rear-center had a 75% hit rate. One shot from the forward-center sector either deviated or matched target profile. Off of center of mass it seems firing solutions are off by about 50 meters relative our aft."

"New firing solution ready. Smaller asteroid, about 300 kilometers further than last. You might need to turn a bit to get it in the crosshairs."

"Got it. We'll be firing sequential to get a solution down. Watch yourself."

"Yessir."

"Fire forward A!"

A direct hit. More flashing on the thermal receivers. "Hit. Nice shot."

"First shot with a new firing solution was a hit? Only two rods in the salvo as well? That's gotta be a fluke. Find another target."

Thirty seconds of searching resulted in a rock even smaller than the last one, albeit a bit closer.

"Sending in new target data, fire when ready."

"Fire Forward D!"

Another hit.

"Hit. Two impacts confirmed."

Cheering could be heard in the background of the Ranger's communication line. "I'll be damned kid. Looks like whatever software you got on that ship is the real deal. I remember hearing stories about how they used to use spotting planes to guide bombardment in the Second World War, but I didn't think it would be effective in space. It's a lot harder to keep a craft from getting shot in space. Find another target in the range of 40 to 50 thousand kilometers. I wanna see just how far we can take this."

"Might take me a while to get to that range."

"We have nothing but time. As much as I like a good beer, I prefer this. Feels more productive."