“So why not just fit a proximity fuse on the shell and explode it inside the target?” asked one of the officers.
“A good point and one we have already tried. The issues are with the shells themselves. At these massive speeds we have to use electronics to get the timing right. By the time the shell hits the hull and triggers the explosive it has already passed through the ship. Electronics can calculate the distance but all military vessels are fitted with electronic jamming equipment that can detonate the shell before it gets anywhere near the ship. My weapon system uses a simple preset mechanical timer that causes the shell to split a given distance from the ship, the default being when it reaches the distance of one hundred metres. Once activated the shells breaks into seventy two separate shards, each one travelling just a few degrees off the original line of fire.”
“Okay, I’m sold on the idea, let’s see it in action!” The General said with a half-hearted grin.
Erdeniz turned back to his crew, about to check the weapon was loaded when the door opened and in walked Admiral Jarvis. She was in her early forties and rarely seen anywhere near the gun decks of the ship. As Admiral of the Fleet, she had her flag on this vessel but she had an entire fleet to manage. It was an unprecedented honour to have her here. As she entered, the rest of the officers stood to attention. The Admiral moved directly to Erdeniz ignoring everyone else.
“Your report makes interesting reading, Lieutenant, is your experiment ready?”
“Yes, Admiral, we were about to fire a test round.”
“Excellent, continue.” She remained in the same place, right in the centre of the room.
Erdeniz turned to his gun crew who by now were looking even more nervous than he was. He doubted they had ever seen so many officers in one place.
“Canister round loaded and ready?”
“Aye!” came the reply once again.
“Fire!”
The same buzz as before and as far as the officers could tell the system also worked exactly the same until they spotted the damage on the approaching ship. All along the side were a vast number of craters and chunks of metal in a cloud of dust and debris. The crew stood back, watching the screens as the debris moved away to reveal the targeted vessel.
Erdeniz prayed and prayed, hoping that his efforts would be vindicated. It had cost a lot of manpower and materials to get this test. He looked at the centre of the screen as the automated camera tried to focus on the many targets, then it cleared.
“Holy shit!” said the General.
The debris had shifted far enough now that the approaching ship could be seen in great detail. First, and foremost, the entire middle section was torn to shreds. A great hole, easily five times the size of the original shell impact had cut through and torn the backbone of the ship apart. Additional small holes were scattered across multiple sections leaving many parts of the vessel either completely blasted off or hanging down in chunks.
They all burst into applause, much to the relief of Erdeniz who watched with a mixture of pride and happiness. It had taken a lot of effort but finally the Canister Round was ready for experimental use aboard the newest ship in the Fleet. Admiral Jarvis moved until she stood directly in front of him.
“Good job, Lieutenant, I had a feeling this was going to work. According to your research paper you took many ideas from the British, specifically Admiral Nelson?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“When I was a cadet I was assigned the Battle of the Nile as my research project. Nelson showed what daring and cunning could do, even when outnumbered. He liked to get close and I can see why you thought of this for our vessels. We have a major weakness and I think you might be on the way to fixing at least a part of it. How soon can you modify our weapons and will the ammunition types be interchangeable?”
“The software is simple to change. I can do that from here. The ammunition needs a slight modification. With the facilities here I can organises stocks of rounds in about three days. Certainly enough for a few volleys.”
“Excellent. I want this gunnery crew and all their guns to have access to this ammunition. We will trial it over the next few weeks. If it goes as well as your tests I think we’ll be seeing the Sanlav Round being deployed through the Fleet.”
He saluted as the Admiral left the room. As she left Erdeniz allowed himself to bask in the glow of success at the success of his weapon test and even better, the fact that the Admiral knew his name. Perhaps things were starting to look up for Lieutenant Sanlav Erdeniz.
Onboard the CCS Santa Maria it was the third week of training and contrary to his expectations, Spartan was actually starting to enjoy himself. In the first two weeks he had already gone through the gruelling ordeal of Gym, Mathematics and English Assessment as well as the start of basic drill and training.
In the first days they had split the recruits up into squads and platoons. He was getting to know his other platoon companions quite well. They didn’t all get on of course, there was the odd rumour about why he was there, but on the whole there was a certain level of respect for each other.
As expected he did much better on the physical than the mental side but it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Either that or perhaps the competition wasn’t as far advanced in the learning stakes as he thought they might be. He easily passed the initial assessment for combat training which meant it was more likely to lead to a frontline posting. He much preferred that to the other posts on offer such as intelligence, command or engineering. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in an office dying of boredom while the rest of the recruits got to experience the full life as a marine. If he had to spend ten years doing this then he was going to give it his damned best.
He stood in line along with the rest of his training platoon. There were thirty-six of them and now technically classed as privates though the drill instructor called them all ‘recruits’. The term marine was only applied after completing training and being accepted by the Sergeant as fit and able. The title had to be earned, at least that’s what he kept saying. The group was diverse in every way. There were blacks, Hispanics, men and women. The age range was also surprising, from early twenties right up to some in their forties.
The training hall was in yet another part of the full gravity section of the ship and to all intents and purposes looked like any other training hall, apart from a slight curve in the floor. Along the walls was a selection of training tools, weights, equipment and even firearms, though they were locked in cabinets. There were no windows and the light was bright, really bright. As they stood to attention their Drill Sergeant approached, he matched almost every stereotype he’d ever heard of. The man was clean-shaven, a good two metres tall with the trim and muscled body of a man who took his job very seriously. He strolled in front before stopping in the centre and turning to face them.
“Okay, ladies, today is close quarter combat day. I am going to instruct you in the sophisticated art of using every part of the body as a lethal fighting machine. In the Marine Corps it is every marine’s duty to be able to defend himself whether you are armed or not.” He looked directly at Spartan.
Without saying anything he moved up to him and walked back and forth, examining him in detail. Like the rest of the recruits, Spartan wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. His body was unlike any of the others there. Some were bigger and others undoubtedly stronger but none had the mixture of muscles, fitness and scars that he carried.
“What’s your name, son?”
“Spartan!” he answered quickly.
"In the CMC it is polite to refer to me as Sergeant, Sir or Drill Instructor! Now, shall we try that again?"
"Spartan, Sir!"
“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of you. You’re some kind of gladiator, bet the girlies get excited when they see you.” He sneered and then shouted.