“We started this night in your commando world, and now we’re in mine. But I’ll admit that was creepy, looking through windows.”
“This ship constantly impresses.”
“And it was smart enough to level at twenty meters.”
As the colonel watched the icon of the incoming torpedo, the sonar expert announced news over the loudspeaker. “The Wraith is submerging. It’s venting its ballast tanks.”
The commander aimed his voice upward. “Very well. Track it as a submerged contact, at least while you can hear it.”
His enemy’s choice to dive piqued the colonel’s curiosity. “Why would they submerge? Who are they hiding from?”
“They may think we’re trying to override the weapons lockouts to shoot at them, but it’s more likely they’re submerging to begin sustained tracking of us.”
“Submarines are faster underwater, right?”
“They are, but we’re not since we have rakish bows designed to cut the water’s surface. However, every submarine hears better underwater, and that’s one reason they’re going under.”
“We hear better submerged, even with these damned limpets on our hull?”
“Yes, although those things compromise everything acoustically, and it’s about to get worse.”
On his display, the colonel watched the Wraith’s torpedo merge with the icon of the Goliath. As the sonar expert announced their dispersion, magnetic drones clamped against the port hull’s underbelly with echoing thuds. A new chorus wailed. “I won’t make it a full day with those accursed sirens blaring. And now the port side is just as bad as the starboard.”
“I think we have bigger problems.” The submarine commander aimed a thin digit at a display that showed raw sounds from the sea. Two new lines appeared behind the Goliath, and he raised his voice towards a microphone connecting him with the sonar expert below. “Do you see those new traces?”
From the speakers, the sonar expert responded. “The first is another torpedo from the Wraith. The second… another torpedo from the Specter.”
The commander wiggled a triumphant finger at the torpedoes’ traces. “This is why we need to be surfaced and running. These weapons will breach our hull.”
The colonel hoped his submarine commander was wrong but doubted it. “What makes you so sure?”
“There’s no further value in limpets. These two will have warheads with small bomblets that attach and explode.”
“Such weapons are Renard’s calling card. They could sink us. He wouldn’t risk it.”
“He’s lost his patience. He fears we might get away.”
“He’d risk everything out of fear?”
“These warheads are expected to have variable yields. They may have only a small number of the bomblets explode.”
A commando’s voice shot from the loudspeaker. “I found the Stinger missiles. A lot of them. They’re forward in the port hull with a bunch of crates of spare railgun rounds.”
The colonel welcomed the favorable news. “Good. Grab the launcher and as many spares as you can and get ready to head topside. I’ll be surfacing the ship now.”
“Understood, sir.”
Concerned about seaborne weaponry, the commander retained his frown. “That’s fine. But you have bigger problems than the possibility of aircraft. You have the reality of explosive warheads.”
“Can we outrun them?”
“Not quite, but this ship’s speed can buy us time and give us options, provided you get the second engine room online.”
Facing an unquantifiable risk, the colonel sought advice. “Engineering, bridge, I need an assessment of bringing up the port hull’s engine room.”
After a pause, his engineer responded. “Bridge, engineering, if I head over there, I won’t be able to make it back here to the starboard side if there’s a problem.”
“Understood. Is the starboard engine room giving you any reason to doubt it?”
“Not really. It’s a solid design. The load shifted to the MESMA plant without a problem.”
“How about the turbine?”
“We’ll need to watch it when it comes up again. But I think I can get you propulsion on two propellers powered by one gas turbine and one MESMA plant in ten minutes. After that, we can see about bringing up the second gas turbine.”
“Go to the port side and start the port engine room.”
The colonel looked to the lean commander. “Now, how to reverse this submerging process?”
“I’m well ahead of you. I’ve already set up the icons. One more touch should surface us.”
“Take us to the surface.”
A tap begat a gentle incline, and digits flickered as pumps spat tons. Blackness receded down the dome, unveiling stars and the sea’s shimmering surface. Swooshing air whispered as head valves opened and fed the hungry turbine.
Night vision optics rose to noses as men scanned the horizon for threats. Within seconds, the quiet commando aimed his finger off the starboard beam and shouted. “Helicopter!”
Peering with his naked eyes, the colonel saw a dark shape blocking nature’s backlighting. The aircraft was low and close — close enough that he saw its twenty-millimeter guns. “Get us back under, now!”
While the commander obeyed, the helicopter angled and aimed its armaments towards the Goliath. Bright bursts painted the night’s black canvas as bullets pelted and pushed through steel. “We can’t submerge!”
Ire rose within the colonel at the rejection of his order. “What?”
“We’ll flood! Those bullets are breaching the hull. They must be!”
“Damn it! Submerge this damned ship!”
Sweat formed on the submarine commander’s brow as water rose up the windows. “You’re sentencing men to die in the breached compartment. You could be killing us all.”
“We’re helpless against helicopters.”
The world became silence except for cooling fans, blaring limpets, and bullets slicing water on their way to clanking against the Goliath’s submerged stern. The sea’s blackness became engulfing as the dome’s light failed, and emergency diodes turned the room red. Though a hardened war veteran, the colonel found his surreal world haunting. “What happened?”
“We lost our electrical system. Speed is dropping to zero. We’re drifting.”
“How’s the damage?”
“Incredible…”
“What?”
“This ship. The informational it gives in real time. It’s amazing. There must be wetness sensors arrayed in each compartment. I can see the port engine room flooding to the second deck, and MESMA plant number five is flooded to half a meter.”
“We were breached in two compartments?”
“Yes. But look.” The commander’s trembling finger pointed to a dynamic schematic of the trim and drain system. “The pumps are already sucking water from the internal tanks near the flooded compartments and moving water into tanks on the port side. The ship’s mitigating the negative buoyancy on the starboard side, and it’s creating the same negative buoyancy on the port side to avoid lateral torques.”
“In layman’s terms?”
“It’s rebalancing the water to stabilize itself.”
“Good.”
“Now it’s balancing water fore to aft and adjusting with the stern planes automatically to keep us level. Simply amazing.”
“But we have no propulsion.”
“No, we don’t. The stern planes will become useless as we slow, but this ship has protected itself. Incredible.”
The bulldog’s voice issued from the loudspeaker. “Bridge, this is MESMA plant three.”