NationStates Jolt Archive

Ooc: with everyone else revealing/designing/building their own super-dreadnaughts, I guess I should start RPing that I too have been working on one… I mean we’re all lemmings…

So yeah, any comments or criticisms, feel free…

Secret Ic:

Ministry of Defence
Imperium, Commonwealth Republic of New Britain

The small table lamp sat dark on the desk, illuminated by the pale flickering light of a man’s cigarette. The man’s face was scarred by the lines of shadows that came and went as the intensity of the light ebbed and flowed. Yet both men appreciated not the designs and patterns for their artistic merit, but instead contemplated the path before them. Slowly, a long thin finger from across the cigarette smoking man’s side stretched out and began to apply pressure on the lamp’s raised switch. “And I said, let there be light.” With a final contraction of a hidden muscle the light switched on and outshone the other man’s face, which revealed itself to be similar to that of Daniel Blair, who fashioned himself a god. After all, as Minister of Defence he held the power of life and death over billions of people at home and abroad.

However, here his role was neither as judge, jury, nor executioner. He hadn’t summoned this high-ranking admiral to punish him for his well-known personal dislike of the Minister of Defence. Today, he played the god of Genesis. Creation.

Without a word the admiral laid out a series of schematics and drawings, as well as several bound reports with small identities of the Commonwealth’s major defence firms – most importantly that of Breningrad Shipyards. “Mr. Blair, I’ve prepared the initial design proposals for you. We are still looking as the cost-benefit model of a few super-dreadnaughts to a greater number of dreadnaughts; per your request, however, there have been some initial designs for the supers prepared for you tonight.”

With a quick flip of the risk the smooth-faced, yet elderly sailor opened up to one design revealing a sleek vessel with several noticeably large turrets. “Tokarev-Arsenal believes that the most efficient, and most realistic piece of naval artillery they can devise – that will be functional and not merely decorative – would fire 609mm rounds of ammunition, which would require the retooling of certain plants or the financing of a new production line solely for this large ammunition. Our other schematics call for more reasonable 457mm rounds, which would require only a slight retooling of the assemblies we have for the Type 72’s 380mm ammunition. Anyway it’s done, Mr. Blair, we are going to need to finance a new type of ammunition.”

Blair nodded, “I still think it would be prudent, Admiral, that we construct a command ship that instills fear into those who incur the wrath of this government. Personally, I will give my approval for 69 guns. However, I still want there to be a massive missile complement.”

“Of course, sir. In fact, the trimaran design will allow for more volume to be filled with VLS missile systems. However, given the new design and armour – which seems to be coming down to some sort of reinforced titanium/ceramic composite – there will be the need for larger VLS cells to house the new “super-dreadnaught killer”. It’s expensive and large, but it does get the job done according to our new simulations. However, it is far too large to fit into the current Mk.65 system installed throughout most of the fleet. The HMS Renown, however, is being equipped with the Mk.68 system which will allow for the new missile system to be maintained as standard armament. The problem is, however, that once this missile system comes online later this year, we will need to devise a new armour system. Our metallurgists are on the edge of some new lighter armour systems, but I doubt they’d be ready for immediate mass-production. In other words, sir, the super-dreadnaught will become vulnerable to these new missiles before they are commissioned.”

“Admiral,” Blair sighed with emphasis, “I understand your concern about diverting funds from the fleet dreadnaught program to the navy-wide super-dreadnaught program; however, we are going to carry through with this. This nation can afford it, and it isn’t as if the lily-livered Prime Minister engages our forces into a great deal of foreign combat, so I think a mere ship to project our power is within our best interests.”

The admiral, realizing his objections had been summarily dismissed, continued on with his small briefing. “Propulsion will be from Hampton Engineering, they’re about to begin testing on a more powerful Pebble-bed style reactor plant which should increase individual plant production by,” the admiral thumbed through his papers, “approximately 15-30%. The tests are still being finalized and reviewed. For backup generation, all the plans have us contracting with Berington-Smith for their gas-turbine systems and perhaps some of their new hydrogen-fuel cells. Although far less powerful in their generation capacity, they generate far less noise than turbines, and so we hope such an implementation would cut down on the margins of the ship’s acoustical signature.”

Blair peered through his reading glasses at one specific diagram, not liking the rather boxy appearance. “How visible is thing going to be?”

“Well, sir. That depends on the design finally chosen by the Royal Navy.” The admiral made sure to stress the importance of his fellow admirals over the wishes of the minister of defence. “However, with advances in radar absorbent materials, active radar cancellation – not to mention minimized surface clutter… well some designs call for nothing more than an average sized assault carrier. However, it is still too early in the design process for such estimates to be made.”

“And aircraft, don’t some other nations use aircraft?”

“They do, sir. However, aircraft are rather fragile and fickle. They can’t stand a great deal of… well stress. Especially naval aircraft with all their extra equipment and such. However, similar to the Type 72, the designs call for a fleet of unmanned drones to comprise the primary system of aerial defence. If our comrades over in the Royal Air Force get their systems moving, we might even have the first pilot-less fighters ready for deployment; at which point we can begin making modifications for pilot-less naval aircraft. After all, there program was given priority. Regardless, we expect the ship to be able to present a significant aerial presence, although keep in mind this ship is not a carrier. After all, the Endeavour class, sir, reaches to 900 meters in length and holds three air wings. Another large aircraft carrier is another big target for enemy guns and missiles.”

“What else are we looking at,” Blair asked.

“That basically covers everything we have so far. Um, Erickson Island and Breningrad Unified Services Complex will likely require upgrades and expansion to maintain further super-large displacement vessels. The AI program is coming along rather rapidly. Service testing should commence with the second block of the Type 72s. Oh yes, in order to build this, it’s going to cost hundreds of billions of Credits, sir. Not just to build the ship, but in order to have Breningrad Shipyards expand their super-large displacement docks. They’re finishing up the last of the three Endeavours, but those three meant the construction of two extra facilities. To go through with this, sir, will mean a significant long-term commitment in the way of funding. I’m just not sure Parliament will authorize it.”

Blair shook his head. Sometimes, the Admiralty simply couldn’t see the big picture. “Admiral, that is my concern, not yours. If we are finished, good night.”

The admiral inwardly shook his own head. The Royal Navy needed ships it could fight with, not ships to parade around the world... draped in flags and ornamentation. “Thank you, sir. Good night, sir.” With that session finished, the admiral gathered his papers and cigarettes from the table. He saluted, and then turned and walked out the door. Still not liking the Minister of Defence.

The Admiralty
Breningrad, Commonwealth Republic of West Oceania

Admiral James Kelley rubbed his eyes, for the past several hours he had been pouring over dozens of pages of schematics, test results, and cost analyses of the gun system for the new super-dreadnaught being planned for at the request of the Ministry of Defence. Personally, he stood against it – and from his meeting several weeks ago with Blair he was quite certain that his boss knew that well. However, his job was still to supervise the development of the new systems being designed specifically for the ship. Consequently, when Tokarev-Arsenal provided their schematics for their near complete 609mm/57 gun, he had decided to take a look at it before presenting it to the design council.

He flipped to the abstract and began to read.


Tokarev-Arsenal Royal Arms Factory Mk.609/57 Gun

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/fbcatholicsfan/Mk.bmp

Design

Contracted by the Royal Navy to design the new ballistic-capable heavy-caliber main guns for the super-dreadnaught class, Tokarev-Arsenal Royal Arms developed the 609mm round of ammunition and its accompanying gun, the Mk.609/57 which can hurl its standard shells a distance of 140km through the use of electro-thermal chemical systems.

The operational requirements of the gun demand the capacity of sitting off a nation’s coast at a distance unreachable by hidden gun or missile emplacements – thus any directed fire will be detected in time to prepare the ship’s defensive systems for action.

In practice, the gun is mounted in a four-barrel turret, each gun controlled by an independent set of control surfaces allowing for limited separate engagements or limited strafing of ground positions. The heavy weight of each barrel – considering the larger than usual barrel – is alleviated through the use of advanced composite materials in the interlaced structural support system. Although this significantly increases the cost of the gun system, it is a necessary component for the gun itself to function properly.

Specifications:

Weight: 180t
Ammunition: 4000kg 609mm diameter shells (HE, AP, FASCAM)
Range: 140km
Elevation: -5˚ to +40˚
Rate of Fire: 1.5-2 rounds per minute

The whole of the project didn’t seem to poor, the Royal Navy had originally insisted on a 150km limit, but more than likely they could live with a decreased range of 140km – after all the gun system was itself far superior to anything currently in the naval gun registry. The next issue was that of placement.

Kelley had reviewed several foreign nations’ super-dreadnaughts from both public data and satellite information gained through… semi-covert means he supposed. After all, everybody had satellites anymore, which meant just about everything on the surface was visible. Especially to nations like the Commonwealth and their extremely-high resolution cameras.

Refocusing on the task at hand, he opened up a folder on the Doujin and other typical super-large displacement vessels. Each was a massive warship in its own right – each would certainly please Blair and the others concerned with the image of the Royal Navy. However, Kelley was also concerned about the realistic cost of such imagery. Since the guns were to be the main focal point of the design, it would only make sense to provide as many as possible – which eliminated almost out of hand the double turret designs. The Mk.609/57 had been designed for optimal use in a quad turret design, which would seem to provide the most firepower in a single location. However, it would also provide the risk of the loss of four barrel if catastrophic malfunctions or battle damage should occur.

Ideally, the system to defeat such threats was that of redundancy. Kelley laughed at the entirely plausible vision of Blair demanding a million quad turrets on a single vessel. He could see the smile and grin and sparkling eyes – like a young child in a candy store told he had an unlimited amount of cash. However, Kelley would be the father bursting the bubble by holding open a finite wallet and a small shopping basket.

Kelley’s most realistic choices were a 12, 16, and 20 gun arrangement. At the extreme end of the viable proposals sat a design for 24 guns. Kelley, however, was loathe to add the sixth turret and designate that volume and displacement for further armour and missile capabilities. The most appealing option to him would be the 20 gun design as the dreadnaught design – also in the early stages of planning – seemed to be focused on a similar 16 gun system in four quad turrets. The increase in four guns would surely please Blair’s need for bigger and better.

After finding the design with the five quad turrets, Kelley dug out his RECOMMENDED stamp and placed those letters firmly across the center of the presentation. He placed the pile in his out bin and rang for his secretary to enter and remove the documents. Slowly but surely the super-dreadnaught program was beginning to take off.

OOC: Very nice. Fascinating look into the design process. Do you think that this super-dreadnaught will ever be available for export, once its design has been finalized?

ooc: I've always appreciated the research and development threads, but I rarely ever see anybody attempt to RP the actual desiging of a ship. So I thought I'd wing it and try to write a little something. As for your question on exports. It's possible that the ship may be exported - in limited quantities - to close allies of the Commonwealth; but that would be many many NS years away. This is still in the initial planning phases. Luckily with spring break I have more time than usual to devote to it, hence it begins its appearance this week, however, I wouldn't even anticipate a finished design - or a rough working model for another couple of days, assuming I still spend hours researching this stuff.

OOC: I'd never actually seen anyone go about writing up the design process before this. The arguements over design compromises, possible alternative selections, political manuvering - it's all quite fascinating. Excellent stuff, I would say.

I'd certainly purchase some of these vessels if they were to be made available for export once the design is complete, but I understand if that wouldn't be possible.

ooc: Thanks, I actually intend in a later post to go into a closed-session Parliamentary debate on the ship... which will be a fun headache I'm sure... but as for getting in on the design. As a fellow member of FCTADN, it could be possible that if certain weapon systems or sensor systems were used by Democratic Colonies' companies that a deal could be worked out. That is if you design your own weapons and combat systems... if not perhaps we could RP some sort of developing closer relations between our governments and such...

OOC: Tagged.

Looks good, and having an excellent development thread gives you chance to really flesh this out. (I need to go and work on my own development thread for the Nautilas). Ill be watching with great interest :D

EDIT: Well, I do have a few queries to make, regarding the turrets.

Firstly, the turrets themselves are far to compact. Whereas I do recognise that you are basing off of current battleship designs, the actual turret for a modern ETC turret for guns of this magnitude will be significantly larger than the turret design here, which is much more conventrional in shape. You will have to add in the loading mechanisms, the energy transfer gear, the significantly larger gun support systems and you will also have to support that barrel a lot more otherwise its going to snap.

Secondly, the magazine is far too close to the surface of the turret, and a bunker busting going in through the top will be disasterous. PErsonally, I would stick a curved piec of composite as a bulkhead or two to revent fire from the turret going into the magazine

OOC: If the squares in that diagram represent ammunition storage, your barbette is far, far too shallow...

ooc: GMC... yes and no, they do... but I didn't want to do the full scale version of it... because then I'd be doing a technical blueprint of the entire ship... or at least the forward areas... which I do not want to do for a corvette, let alone an SD. Artistically, it's mainly a horizontal pic, and if i went vertical... there'd be a lot of empty white space. Which in school - as I attend an art school - is called dead space which has been drilled into my head over and over is a no-no.

I suppose that's more of my artistic training rather than technical training. So yes, I realize it's too shallow, however, that's more of a creative license... and the fact that I'm lazy... haha... yes, good old fashioned American laziness...

thanks freethinkers. Now I hope that the laziness doesn't translate into me not actually developing this... which shouldn't, I'm rather enjoying this thread.

ooc: after many hours of reworking the gun design, I have no words to show... merely a bigger and better version of the gun. After all, bigger is better. Not that its stats improve anything much else. So just assume it's better or something. But seriously...

To address concerns listed so far...

1.) The magazines were not actually as close to the deck as depicted. I should have drawn the ziggy line that indicates separation - I did not. For the confusion, I apologize. Note I decided not to bother drawing ammunition storage below decksin this version - but they are there. The decks in this case, like last time are some sort of wood... why? Because wooden decks on capital ships are far superior to metal decks.

If only aesthetically.

2.) The gun itself was modeled after a set of drawings I had that were of mixed scale, hence its smallness... not that smallness is a word, but I am very tired. Argh. Anyways, I tackled the problem from scratch - removed the barrel and built an entirely new turret around it. And I made sure I was using the right scales, so the new turret is bigger. Rough guesses compared to the last one... Anywhere from what looks to be one quarter to one third larger.

I'd say more, but my capacity for higher-level brain function is shutting down. If anyone else has any comments or concerns thus far, please bring them up. Although now, I am going to sleep...

Arsenal
Commonwealth Republic of Bennington

The Royal Arms Factory at Arsenal occupied a large area on the island of New Australia, within the Commonwealth Republic of Bennington, north of the mountains, thankfully shielded from the southern side of the mountain, which nearly a year ago witnessed a destructive nuclear blast from terrorists. Fortunately, the trade winds and ocean current blew most of the highly lethal radiation out to sea, but people to the north of the former city of Carthage were still instructed to take their daily doses of anti-radiation medicines. Amy Olikov lived on the south side of the island, in the port city of Philadelphia.

Philadelphia was founded by a wealthy merchant captain turned shipping entrepreneur who originally hailed from the city of Philadelphia in the nascent United States, when the city was one of the most prosperous and powerful in the New World. However, with the founding of a new British colony in the Pacific, and the warmer, more maritime climate of the Pacific islands, he invested his capital in founding a new port city on the entrance to the Morgan River, named after its discoverer. The city in the centuries since its founding had grown along the lines wished by its founder – multiple civilian shipbuilding companies dotted the deep channels leading from the city’s deep harbour. Further up the river the Royal Navy maintained a small base for part of the Home Fleet. The city sat on a wide arc of sandy beaches dotted with palm trees, on the nearly most southern end of the Commonwealth’s primary archipelago, which made it attractive to shipping crossing the breadth of the Pacific as a layover. However, Olikov lived in the city because she was born there in the ocean-front hospital and she loved the subtropical climate and relaxed tropical atmosphere.

When the time arose, however, she attended the Commonwealth University with degrees in engineering and the like to apply for a position at the Tokarev-Arsenal Royal Arms Factory – or Tokarev-Arsenal – which was the primary provider for the gun systems used throughout the Commonwealth. As a young girl, her father had taken her hunting in the game parks nearer the mountains. She had loved the power of firing a gun and the control it gave her over her environment, which during her younger days was still somewhat against equal rights for women – if not politically then socially. The love of the gun pushed her into engineering and to her position at Tokarev-Arsenal, located in the town of Arsenal – so named for the long-established gun factory which had been built in the middle of nowhere.

The commute, however, took two hours each day on the high-speed maglev line from Philadelphia to the northern port city of Artega. The rail lines were built to provide access to the remote facility and provide a pleasant near-country-like work environment that differed from the urban bustle of the urban metropolises surrounding the plant. So every morning at oh seven hundred, she boarded the train at Philadelphia Central Station and slept the ride north, where she exited at the Arsenal stop, which was connected directly to the main entrance of the plant.

Olikov’s current assignment was as an assistant to the lead project manager for the classified Secondary Gun System for the also classified super-dreadnaught project. Through the extreme level of security and compartmentalization, she had little info on the rest of the ship other than that another team had apparently finalized its plans for a new 609/57 gun. There had been an accident several weeks back when the experimental turret design proved to be too small to house the appropriate energy-transfer systems, and the resulting accident proved fatal. Thankfully, Olikov was working on improving existing gun systems, especially that of the 203/60 light gas gun.

The challenge facing the project was two-fold. Develop the anti-surface gun system into a new dual anti-air and surface weapon system, or provide for a new anti-air system. The 203/60 had originally been developed for the Type 72 battlecruiser, and had outshone its modest projected capabilities and was well-liked by those commanders who had tested it. However, the limitation was the size of the Type 72 limited the turret to utilizing a single barrel; the Ministry of Defence was inquiring into the possibility of an expanded turret that would house two independently-sleeved 203/60 guns. The problems inherent in the design were the increased capacity for the large amount of space required by the recoil system and the preparation of the combustion elements.

On the new super-dreadnaught the plan was to equip the main decks with several 203/60 guns primarily for the engagement of smaller more nimble vessels – generally patrol craft and such for which a 609mm shell would be extreme overkill. After all, the primary threat to such large vessels would come from the close-range threats of shallow littoral waters. Her initial studies provided estimates that the new gun system would be fully function and not too difficult to construct, the challenge would be in constructing a new turret and then integrating any potential anti-air threat systems into the new AI program.

Design

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/fbcatholicsfan/1fdd80a6.bmp

The Tokarev Arsenal Mk.203/60 is a combustion gas gun, designed to operate independent of a ship-board electrical power grid. The nature of the combustion allows for accelerated launch speeds increasing the range of the payload. However, with this increased speed and distance comes the counter-effect that there is a substantial recoil and transfer of energy into heat, requiring unique systems for compensation. The entire system is housed within an angular shell that significantly reduces the RCS profile, effectively making the Mk.203/60 a stealth gun platform.

To deal with the large recoil of the system the design team has created an interesting yet amazingly simple system to both limit the recoil absorbed by the ship itself and recover some of the lost kinetic energy. The first part of the system is the gun itself, which sit on a slide rail and operates as almost an independent body detached from the ship’s hull. The underside of the barrel contains a sliding hatch where the gun connects to the gun mount, and through which ammunition is moved into the barrel from the magazine. Prior to firing the hatch is slid shut disconnecting the gun from the mount except for the limited contact on the slides. When the gun fires, the high acceleration creates a force that must be countered as stated by Newton which would normally be absorbed by the ship – which in this case would be a great amount from the extreme amount of stress caused by unusually high recoil forces. However the sliding action of the gun increases the distance traveled, and thus decreases the amount of force upon the ship’s hull. In addition, the gun is attached to a system of arrestor wires – similar to those onboard aircraft carriers – which are connected to generators below decks. These generators, when the wires are so violently pulled, create some electrical energy which is then used to slide the gun back into firing position. This system allows for little readjustments to the targeting data, but decreases the number of rounds fired per minute to approximately 35 rounds per minute.

Specifications:

Weight: 90,000kg
Ammunition: 105 x 127kg shells
Range: 160km
Elevation: -20˚ to +65˚

On this day, she reviewed the previous night’s test-data on her laptop computer. As she has suspected, the 203/60 had failed to make a significant impact on aerial targets. Although the gun had a firing rate of approximately 14 rounds per minute, the weapon was simply too big to tackle fast moving and highly maneuverable aircraft – unless armed with a special rocket-assisted large-envelope fragmentation warhead. However, the problem was simply that the division of the guns magazines to contain the separate ammunition. She personally thought the best option was to install yet a third gun, an anti-aircraft battery of 76mm caliber that was radar guided. In a pinch it could do against small surface targets, but it would be a dedicated anti-air battery.

The problem was of course the identifying of multiple calibers of ammunition. The 609 and 203 were sufficiently different that identification could be achieved; however a 76 and a 203 could possibly prevent difficulties if both were trained on surface targets. However, given the strictly anti-air duties of the 76mm battery she was fairly certain that the new system would work rather well. She thumbed through the initial plans for a newer gas gun system for a 76mm air-defence gun. Larger than originally called for, but those sailors were always compensating for something…

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/fbcatholicsfan/5afad457.bmp

Last in her reports were the close-in-defence-systems. The primary system was the new Joint GUn-Missile unit, the JGUM Mk.2. The original was still only in testing phase on several Type 52 stealth frigates – but initial tests had proven its versatility and reliability for immediate defence against aerial targets, especially high-velocity and stealth missiles. The system worked through the long range detection of targets through an advanced and independent radar system atop the small radomes. The independent system could coordinate with the main system of the ship, or if the ship’s central processing or inter-system communication pathways were damaged the unit would still be able to operate to prevent further damage. At comparatively long ranges, the system would engage its battery of light surface to air missiles. These missiles were extremely fast and maneuverable, though they compensated for this increased precision and accuracy with a lighter warhead than the heavier (and larger) VLS launched anti-missile missiles. If the inbound missile or aircraft evaded the missiles, the four seven-barreled 35mm gatling guns would take over and produce either four dispersed fields of fire for tight waves of missiles or they could execute slight lateral shifts to provide a dense cone of fire.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/fbcatholicsfan/JGUMMk.bmp

The secondary system would include the upgraded LIWRAP system of remotely operated 20mm guns. The guns, framed in lightweight units, were capable of rapid fire on targets designated by the main computer systems – or if those failed, the manual operation of those guns from remote stations or from manning the gun itself.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v318/fbcatholicsfan/20mmLIWRAP.bmp

Although she wasn’t privy to the exact number of each system that would be employed, it seemed that if placed properly, the multiple stages of air defence weaponry would provide the ship with an excellent shield against missiles and even larger caliber shells. The surface battery also seemed impressive with the new work on the 203/60 guns.

...
As a fellow member of FCTADN, it could be possible that if certain weapon systems or sensor systems were used by Democratic Colonies' companies that a deal could be worked out. That is if you design your own weapons and combat systems... if not perhaps we could RP some sort of developing closer relations between our governments and such...


...
Her initial studies provided estimates that the new gun system would be fully function and not too difficult to construct, the challenge would be in constructing a new turret and then integrating any potential anti-air threat systems into the new AI program.



OOC:

Ah. I'd been thinking about your earlier statement, but couldn't really come up with anything the Democratic Colonies could offer. DC does export some military equipment, but nothing that would be suited for use on a super-dreadnaught. However, I now see that you intend to integrate shipboard AIs into the design? DC could be of some help there. The Colonial Navy utilizes sentient AI systems on its captiol ships, and could assist Azazia in its AI development program.

ooc: limited AI systems... nothing so complete as to give it full sentience... yet... but more of an autonomous system that can operate semi-independently from human input.

Example, radar system detects inbound missiles... you can either set the system to AI or man controlled. if it's AI, the system will react almost instantly according to its best analysis of outcomes and probability. If it's controlled by men, then they need to input the commands and such. If that makes sense, I'm rather tired so I hope it made sense.

ooc: limited AI systems... nothing so complete as to give it full sentience... yet... but more of an autonomous system that can operate semi-independently from human input.


OOC:
Ah. Well, I suppose DC could help with that as well. Large computer cores operating at extreme speeds, able to calculate probable incoming missile vectors and optimal interception actions, capable of managing the ship's point defense without needing regular human input - that, I believe, DC's computer industry could provide if you wanted to contract out to them.

ooc: of course mine could do it too, but in the interest of good story telling, why the hell not... i won't write it up today, but if you'd be so kind as to TG me some stats you might have and companies and their backgrounds i should be getting round to it in a few days. sorta fallen behind on this...

Closed Chamber of Parliament
Imperium, Commonwealth Republic of New Britain

The thick sound-proofed wooden doors shut earlier in the day, after the dozen or so members of the Naval Procurement Sub-Committee had assembled in the century-old room decorated with Romanesque busts of long-since passed members of the former Parliaments. On this day, however, the politicians sat discussing the future procurements of the Royal Navy, not the long-respected debates on political philosophy that had at one time occurred in such rooms.

At the head of the long rectangular table, a gift from one of the tribal kings on the primitive islands, sat the Commonwealth’s Minister of Defence – Daniel Blair. One of the youngest members of the Prime Minister’s cabinet, he had been selected from the defence firm of Commonwealth Defence Industries by Tetley, despite the obvious implications of the possibility of having a bias in these procurement meetings. As Tetley had expected, Blair proved more than competent in his role, and was thriving politically – except for the recent hawkish statements coming from his spokespeople. In front of him were several proposed hull designs for the new super-dreadnaught type being designed by the best architects in the Commonwealth. Unfortunately, up to this point there had been little consensus amongst the committee members on the necessity and the subsequent costs of the project.

“Gentlemen,” Blair began, “we are here today to discuss specifically the plans for the new capital warship currently slotted to enter the Royal Navy in coming years. As it stands, the ship remains in the design phase with most of the weapon systems ready for implantation, the remaining questions revolve around the sensor systems, onboard computer systems, as well as armour schemes, payment plans, and construction plans.”

Philip Summers picked up his tall glass of ice water and took a long sip before beginning to state his own concerns. “So then, Mr. Blair, how much will this new ship cost the taxpayer to state his own concerns. “So then, Mr. Blair, how much will these new ships cost the taxpayers?”

“Currently, we’re looking at a cost – for developmental programs – at least in the ten billion Credits range. However, the advantage is that these new designs for weapon systems will fit onto our future capital ship designs, and serve as bases for next generation weapon systems.” Blair responded.

“But should we not be spreading those billions our among smaller, but more numerous classes of ships? Say we spend one hundred billion on this unnecessary behemoth, we’ve lost the opportunity to buy one hundred billion Credits worth of carriers, cruisers, destroyers, submarines, even standard dreadnaughts. Then again, that argument does not even begin to cover the increased costs of your boss’ plan for an Azazian empire – which will require billions of Credits in annual maintenance costs.”

Blair had expected just such an argument, the issue of the cost of this massive ship. Ultimately, the men were correct – for one hundred billion Credits a large number of small displacement capital ships could be procured, staffed, and armed. “I grant you that, Mr. Summers; the cost of these ships is extremely high compared to the cost of an ordinary carrier.”

“Not to mention the billions spent on the super-carriers, Mr. Blair.” Summer interjected.

Blair nodded, the point was rather salient. The super-carrier project had required massive funds to re-equip several naval stations to handle the carriers, each almost a kilometer in length. “The super-dreadnaught will unquestionably placed a previously unseen strain on defence procurements, specifically that of the Royal Navy; however, the super-dreadnaught program is a tactical and strategic necessity for the security of this new age of imperialism.”

Blair stood from his chair and walked over to the plain white wall behind him, pulling down a projector screen and nodding to a silent aide in the background. On the screen a map of the Pacific Ocean appeared, and the far-flung territories of the Commonwealth appeared, some entirely isolated from the main archipelago, the core of the nation. “This, gentlemen, is the state of our nation – before we embark upon plans for imperialism as laid out by the right honourable Alistair Tetley. As you can see, here in the Juristan Republic and the Indian Ocean Territories, we have relatively isolated landmasses and military forces.”

“Currently,” he continued, pushing forward to the next screen, which outlined current naval deployments and silhouettes of the larger capital ships in the Royal Navy, “we maintain three centers of fleet operations. The first of the home waters, the second of the Pacific Ocean, and third of the Indian Ocean. However, due to the distance between the major bases – for example, the distance between say the complex at Breningrad and the envisioned facilities at Avinapolis in the Verdant Archipelago, we have a large gap of water to secure. The super-dreadnaught goes a long way in assuaging our collective fears about the interruption of free-trade on the high seas, which is vital to our economic security.”

Summers smiled at another hole in the government’s argument. “But you see, Mr. Blair, that there is exactly what I am talking about. The Commonwealth, as it stands before this reckless foray into empire-building, is dispersed and uncentralized. We have no borders with other nations, and we depend upon large expanses of the sea to be free and safe from pirates not to mention hostile governments. Why should we not spend more money on say… the procurement of further Type 72 battlecruisers, which in their role as convoy raiders are more than sufficient in protecting said convoys.”

“Because, sir, as our nation grows and becomes more expansive, we are certain to meet our share of enemies despite the cordiality expounded by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The larger enemies we will face will certainly be equipped with their own super-dreadnaughts, with which they could easily ravage our supply lines. As we all know, two super-dreadnaughts going at each other would result in hours if not days of shells slamming into impenetrable armour – a stalemate. I liken it to breaking wood. The Type 72s, as you suggest, would be to a super-dreadnaught nothing more than little twigs in the hands of body-builder. Our own super-dreadnaught would have the effect of binding the same amount of biomass into a thick log. There would be only one log as opposed to hundreds of twigs, but the one log would not break under the body-builder’s strength.”

Summers nodded quietly. He had underestimated the rhetorical skills of Tetley’s minister. The analogy at the end had brought about a visible impact on several members of the committee, he could read it on their faces. Yet, there were other ways to defeat this proposal outside of sheer logic. Another look around the room provided Summers with the bit of intelligence he needed.

The committee hosted six individuals from the lower house of Parliament, including of course the Minister of Defence or his appointed representative. In this case, the committee included Summers, who hailed from the city of Port Hamptonshire; Julio Cabrera (from Caliz); Vladimir Kuzov (Archangel); Anna Tereshkova (Artov); and lastly Charles Whitesmith (Carthage). Each of the men and the one woman hailed from and represented a port city, which made sense as most of the Commonwealth was dependent upon maritime trade routes. However, Summers also knew that the construction of these massive vessels would provide a significant boost to the economy of the host of the selected construction yards. And with three boats to be built, Tetley’s government would have to choose who to ignore. And while Port Hamptonshire lay at the northern ends of the Commonwealth with its large sheltered bay and small naval facility, Blair would never submit his Summer’s own city as a site, his vote was solidly against that of Blair and his boss.

Caliz had been founded by the Spaniards, and sat on a busy shipping route from the Pacific Ocean to the interior Azazian Sea and accordingly sported modern docks and wharves, as it sat on the landmass of New Australia – the largest island in the whole Commonwealth – it sat at the terminus of a rail network stretching from the furthest point west (the city of Caliz) all the way to the eastern shores of the island of New Britain. Cabrera hailed from Blair own Democratic Socialist Party, but was well known for being an independent voter whose political philosophies centered on the idea that his role in Parliament was to represent the people of Caliz, and not the people of the Commonwealth. It was entirely possible that Cabrera would vote against continuing the super-dreadnaught program as Summers saw it quite doubtful that such a small city, though economically powerful, would be the site for one of three construction slots. Instead, Summers hoped to court Cabrera for a vote in favour of his own massive shipbuilding plan that would call for hundreds of smaller capital warships.

The cities of Archangel and Artov existed in the Russian northwest of the archipelago; which on this day was not good news for Summers. Years ago, the Russian peoples had been determined to enforce their own will on the whole of the Commonwealth. One of the earlier civil wars had in fact necessitated the English-descended crown to “Russify” their names and allow for the “Russification” of several important British-founded cities, most notably that of Breningrad. However, the English majority had witnessed the better end of the Commonwealth’s economic growth and they now subsidized much of the Russian-founded industries and companies – notably that of Tokarev-Arsenal Royal Arms Factory. The Russian population, which still remained a close-knot body, was keenly aware of their dwindling power, and felt more inclined to support the leading Democratic Socialists in order to keep whatever power they still held in national forums.

That left Charles Whitesmith from Carthage. A while back, the proud, prosperous, bustling city of Carthage was devastated by the detonation of a nuclear weapon off the coast – the whole of the commercial district and the maritime district were obliterated, with only scant few skeletons remaining of skyscrapers – though they were being torn down for concerns over irradiation. The city had elected several men and women under the promise of bettering the city of Carthage; and Whitesmith was one such man who had campaigned independent of the main political parties on a platform of representing Carthaginians and only Carthaginians in Parliament. Without a doubt, the construction of a super-dreadnaught in Carthage would provide an economic boost to the region and to the families devastated by a drastic unemployment rate in the area.

Yet, the main sites for building such large capital warships did not exist in any of the cities represented here, except perhaps Breningrad where Blair hailed from, but his support of himself was a ridiculous issue to even think about. If Blair wanted to shift construction to other sites, there would be an even larger increase in construction costs as entire new facilities would need to be created. Cities like Carthage would stand to gain immeasurably from such infusions of government cash – but to do so would significantly alienate the remaining parties in the committee. Summers intended to force Blair’s hand, and see how good his political skills truly were in such situations.

“Mr.Blair, I will cede to your professional opinion on the state of the Royal Navy, but now if you will address what I think is,” Summers swept his arms out as if encompassing everyone in the room, “one of our major concerns. Where will these ships be built?”

Daniel Blair had made well-known his contempt for infusing military policies with politics. But then again, he was an elected member of Parliament – politics were his first order of business, Defence his second. Always one of the more contentious issues in securing funding for Royal Navy warships was the location of their construction; and with such a large ship the odd dull pangs in the head became a constant throbbing migraine. Many months back he had entertained a discussion with a high-ranking admiral about Parliament being willing to commit the funds necessary for the development of these ships; and he had told the man to let him worry about it as Minister of Defence. Now was Blair’s time to worry.

They city of Breningrad currently owned the docks most suited to the construction of the super-dreadnaughts, but to enter into a contract with Breningrad Shipyards with the City of Breningrad having exclusivity on construction rights would sink this plan far before the keel would even be placed on the docks. The cities of Artega and Portsmouth also boasted excellent facilities from their work on the Endeavour class super-carriers. Yet to authorize construction in those cities, not represented in this committee at all, would surely garner nothing more than a deadlock – which would ultimately lead to the procurement bill dying in subcommittee.

The problem that arose for Blair was which city to pick. The Russians would side with him no matter his decision, a great deal of money was already flowing into Tokarev-Arsenal for the new gun systems – that move had shut them up for now. That gave Blair three votes, and he needed either Whitesmith or Cabrera to vote yes to the bill – which meant sacrificing either Artega or Portsmouth to either Carthage or Caliz. He had somewhat anticipated this move by Summers, himself nothing more than an egotistical lackey of the Conservative Party boss Daniel Collins. But by the time of this session his advisors, as well as Tetley himself, had not been able to decide which side to bribe.

If he chose Caliz, Blair would be siding with an economically powerful, though rather small city. It would surely bring new development to the western coast of New Australia, an area that lagged behind the eastern portions of the Commonwealth as the tribal peoples had still not yet fully assimilated into the mainly British culture. It also helped that Caliz was well connected to the rest of the nation, in terms of infrastructure, which would help negate some of the limitations that would be imposed by building an entirely new construction site. If he ignored Caliz, it would be likely that the Democratic Socialist Party would lose the popular support of the natives and the Spanish minorities, which were admittedly small, but the Spanish in particular were growing at an impressive rate. And given the upcoming elections, Tetley and Blair would both need as many votes as possible – regardless of Blair’s own dislikes for aspects of his boss.

Whitesmith represented the city of Carthage, itself nothing but rubble anymore. The rail lines and the dock facilities, not to mention the roads and the highways, were all shot to hell. To even attempt to build new facilities would delay the launch of that particular ship by years; and given the already long period of time that would be required to build the super-dreadnaughts, Blair knew he was not a patient man. However, any contract given to Carthage would resound well within the decimated populace of the area. Potentially, if Tetley were able to drum up the media coverage of the bill, it could appeal to the entire nation, which had been shocked and devastated by the loss of the city. Granted, their consumerist impulses had merely sent them to other tourist cities, however, it might not be entirely too hard to rekindle their interest in rebuilding Carthage. That and a new post on the central southern coast of New Australia would surely be anything but negative.

Blair hid the small smile that had crept up upon his face as he had paused for a few brief seconds to contemplate Summers’ question. “Mr. Summers, I am glad you asked that question, it is indeed very important to all of us here. Of course, the lead ship will be built in the city of Breningrad. The second will be built in either the city of Artega or Portsmouth. And the third will be built in our esteemed colleagues hometown of Carthage, with of course appropriate subsidization of the requisite repairs to the damaged infrastructure.” Finally, Blair let loose his smile. If Summers dared to challenge the indecision on Artega or Portsmouth, Blair could choose one or the other then amend the bill in a later full-session of Parliament. And if he chose to challenge the selection of Carthage, on the same merits for Blair’s selection of the city, Summers would run the risk of poisoning the image of the Conservative Party in the public’s mind. Of course he had lost the vote of Cabrera, but while his city was the more suitable location, it didn’t serve Blair’s own political needs in the near future.

“And of course, Mr. Summers,” Blair continued on second thought, “I would be remiss if I neglected to mention that most of the work to be done on the weapon systems will be contracted to Tokarev-Arsenal and they will be able to sub-contract the work to firms of their choice.” He mentioned that point as Tokarev-Arsenal had a tendency to select fellow Russian firms for sub-contracts, and that would serve only to solidify the vote of the two Russians in the sub-committee.

Summers could content himself only to nodding at his political adversary. Blair had tactfully handled the two most contentious points of the bill providing increased funding for the project; and had won. If this were any other sport outside of politics, he would cross the table and shake the man’s hand despite his deplorable policies and beliefs, for he had proven his worth as a fellow member of Parliament instead of a mere lackey of Alistair Tetley.

For the following hours, the men would continue to throw veiled barbs back and forth across the table, as they reviewed the progress on the weapon designs being planned for the new ship. By sunset, however, the men agreed that the time had come to vote and they all received their ballots from the officers of the Parliament.

In minutes, Blair was off to his office and on the phone with the Prime Minister.

“Sir, the bill passed the sub-committee on a vote of four against two.”

OOC: The problem with this thread...is that now I feel obligated to do the same for my upcoming big ship. Aside from that (by the way, would you mind if I did so? I'll happily credit you with the idea, but if you'd rather I didn't write it, that's fine) this is an excellent thread.

ooc: i can only claim credit for the idea, i can't stop you from writing your own... besides if we did that... creativity and good writing would cease to flourish and then... well it would all go bad like sour milk.

So go! Write! Proliferate your words!

I think more realistic research and development RPs will only make the NS world more believable, and in my mind, a lot more enjoyable.

And thanks for the compliment... this is making my ship take a hell of a lot longer than i'd have liked to even be launched. Only because my school schedule has become so insane so i've fallen very far behind on typing up the stories i have in my head... so yeah, more will come...

HMS Barkley
Northern Pacific Ocean

The northern Pacific from the first explorations of the Europeans had been known to bring death and destruction if not total misery to those who ventured onto her wide expanses. Even the Commonwealth of Azazia had been directly influenced by the oft disastrous climate with the arrival of small Russian ships on the archipelago’s northern shores – having been driven from the Aleutian route to the north. Over two hundred years later, the sea was still pounding the hulls of ships, though now they were fashioned from steel and titanium instead of oak.

Alexander Remarah steadied himself on a control panel in the bridge as the high waves slammed into the breakwaters ahead of the ship’s experimental weapon. Further forward, the bow found itself dipping beneath the waves, throwing salty seawater meters into the air as the ship’s buoyancy lifted the bow promptly up. In front of Remarah, below him, sat a massive quadruple-barreled turret – the first production model designed for the ship Remarah had been let known would be his upon its completion.

The tall and thin man stood with his arms extended, resting on the weapons console while his bright blue eyes peered out from his sharp and angular face. Indeed, Remarah was worried about the storm the ship was riding into – despite his calm and serene face. He knew well that this old ship had not been designed to place so much weight forward of her bridge – even with the removal of the two 127mm guns and the four 76mm guns and both VLS batteries. Engineers down in Breningrad had spent months preparing the Barkley for this mission, and the interior spaces had been giving new bracings and bulkheads designed to accommodate the large and heavy gun platform. Even still, the hull had been outfitted with riggers; the old missile cruiser was now an ad hoc trimaran test bed, not the decorated heavy missile cruiser from the civil war years ago.

But even still, Remarah did not care for the modifications, he’d of rather used a larger warship – unfortunately the only ones larger were the new Type 72 battlecruisers, which were being produced as rapidly as possible for front-line service, not for testing purposes. But as a wall of water slammed into the windows ahead of the young captain, he knew that the Admiralty always had to have his way – and he certainly was looking forward to this command. However, he still maintained his misgivings.

He turned to his left, glancing over at the young red-haired navigation officer. “Mr. Kirkpatrick, time to arrival?”

“Sir, we should be in the operating area momentarily – however, the weather is not conducive to stationary firing tests.”

Remarah nodded, he entirely agreed with Kirkpatrick. As he turned to his right, however, he saw the overriding factor. “Admiral James, we are set to arrive on station shortly, however, the weather is not optimal for our first stationary test.”

Admiral James, wrapped in his jacket to fight off the cold seeping in through the deteriorating seal around the window panes, nodded at Remarah. “We are to proceed with the test, we will simply move to the second phase.”

“Sir, that has us underway in calm seas. This is hardly the optimal conditions, quite frankly, for any of our outlined tasks.”

James nodded. “Normally, I’d agree with you, captain. But Imperium wants results, and if we can test these new guns in less-than-optimal conditions, we’ll be ahead of the curve and be proving that these weapons work in conditions beyond that which they’re being tested for.”

“Sir, I agree entirely; however, the Barkley is already strained under the weather and I’m afraid that we simply do not yet know enough about the ramifications of firing these guns on a ship that frankly, sir, was not built or designed with such a weapon ever being used on her forward hull.”

James waved his hand, dismissing Remarah’s concern. “Noted, captain. But my decision stands. Order the crew to battlestations and prepare to launch target drone.”

Remarah saluted his commanding officer. “Aye, sir.” Turning to face his executive officer he sighed inwardly. “Commander Vasilov, prepare port torpedo tube Number Three for drone launch. Order the crew to battlestations.”

Throughout the ship klaxons began to ring out as overhead lighting shifted from white to red. On the port side of the ship’s hull, amidships underneath the main mast a small hatch slid open. With the assistance of a rocket a small cylindrical object flew out, skimming onto the water, where propellers engaged and began to shoot the object out to a distance of twelve kilometers at a speed of forty knots.

Both Remarah and James instinctively turned to their left as the word was given that the target drone was away. Seconds later, the onboard systems activated the signal-generators and provided the weapons officer with a juicy simulated cruiser – small enough to prevent a challenge, but large enough to necessitate the use of the heavy guns. The two men turned as the large guns, all four of them slowly began to raise upwards into the sky.

Remarah looked at James, awaiting his signal – given by a simple nod. “Weapons officer, lock onto target. Use standard intervals and commence firing.”

The bridge of the underweight ship shook violently as the first of the guns threw smoke and unsecured debris overboard. While the super-dreadnaughts would not move from the recoil, the smaller Barkley found herself pushed backwards by a negligible, but still technically noticeable amount. When Remarah realized this, he knew the next phase could be disastrous.

Below the bridge in the forward sections aft of the turret, and bulkheads had been strengthened by extra steel beams, however, they had not been replaced. Unbeknownst to the engineers tiny micro-cracks had appeared in the structural supports. Naturally, this was to be expected in a ship reaching into forty years of active service, including in that time some heavy battle damage. However, in all that time the bulkheads between the superstructure and the turret had never been replaced. And as the first shot was loosed, the stress on the beams began to near critical.

In the heaving seas, the first shell landed beyond the target while the second shot suffered from overcompensation and landed short. By the time the fourth shell was fired, the “enemy cruiser” had suffered one hit. Even despite the rough seas, the range was then all but set. James smiled, for the time had come for the coup de grace.

Underneath James, and a little bit forward the beams that were holding the ship together, supporting the massive new weight both vertically and horizontally had come to their end. The micro-cracks had expanded noticeably since the first shell had been fired and finally, as the first beam snapped as a wave slammed into the bow the recently added sensors began to go off.

“Full salvo,” James ordered.

As the order was passed down to the turret, the assistant chief engineer called out quite startled. “Sirs! Structural integrity has been compromised! Section Five, decks two through six!”

Remarah knew there was nothing that could be done. “Belay salvo order!” He screamed in a frantic last ditch attempt.

But it was no use.

As the four guns went off simultaneously, a loud crack followed from deep within the hull, masked by the report of the guns firing. Soon after, however, the loud groaning of the Barkley became audible even in the bridge. As Remarah looked out onto the deck below he saw only the widening jagged tear through the deck. The true nature of the problem became quite clear soon enough.

“Captain,” the engineer bellowed over the intensifying death moans, “sensors indicate that the hull has basically snapped. Forward of the bridge. Most of our water and electrical lines have been severed; we still have limited communications and internal sensors.”

“Evacuate the forward sections and close the watertight bulkheads!” Remarah glanced over at James, now dumbstruck by the unfolding disaster at sea. Realizing that he was almost now paralyzed, perhaps at the realization his zealousness had precipitated the catastrophic hull failure, Remarah assumed complete command.

There was far too little left to command, however. Before the bulkheads were secured, the Barkley rose over an enormous wave, and while she hung at the crest, the bow finally tore herself free from the remainder of the ship. As the aft section slid in reverse down the wave, the wave continued forward plunging the quarterdeck below the sea, and leaving the exposed hole forward open to the oncoming wave. The engineers and damage control teams managed to secure some of the bulkheads, but the majority were somewhat open and allowed the sea to pour into the hull of the ship.

“Captain, sensors are now indicating massive flooding of the main hull.”

Remarah picked himself up off the deck, where he had been thrown when the wave slammed into the now squared off “bow” of the cruiser. “How are the bulkheads going?”

“Electrical power has been disrupted and the crews were closing them manually.”

Remarah understood the unsaid report. Most of those men and women were now washed away from the watertight bulkheads, or were swept to sea or were simply drowned inside the ship. The cruiser was going to continue to take on water. “Pumps?”

“Running at full capacity, but it’s not going to be enough, sir. We might have had a chance if we weren’t in the middle of this bloody storm.”

Remarah ran his long fingered hands through his close-cropped brown hair, attempting to impose calm on the frightened bridge crew. “Communications, send an SOS on all channels and alert HQ of our status. Commander Vasilov, prepare to abandon ship. We’ll give the men five more minutes, but after that this ship is going down despite our best efforts.” Remarah motioned for his aide to come over. “I need you to download the data from the firings onto disk and then make a hardcopy, seal it in a waterproof bag and then report back to the bridge.”

The men and women under Remarah’s command carried out their duties, though in their now dancing eyes and muttered prayers he knew that just as the steel had given way, his crew was ready to break. They were all members of the Royal Navy, but he had been given a fresh crop of graduates and enlisted personnel – and this was certainly not what they had bargained for upon signing the dotted line.

The aide soon returned with the request data and Remarah patted him on the shoulder. “Good work.” He moved over to Vasilov at the engineering console, where she was reading the sensor reports as they streamed up to the bridge. “Report, Ivana?”

“Not good, sir. Combat is flooded, Yuri down in the reactor room reports that water is beginning to seep in from the bottom up. We simply can’t get the bulkheads down in time.”

“Then I need you to go down there and start sealing off every bulkhead for every section. Move forward as you go.”

“Sir, if we do that, my crew and I won’t—“

“I’m aware of what I’m asking you to do. And I wouldn’t if I didn’t think you couldn’t handle it. You’re the finest XO I’ve ever had. But I need you to do this.”

Vasilov nodded and turned calling out men and women from the bridge crew that would be needed along the way.

Remarah glanced out the windows, the bow had long since sunk – perhaps men were in the water, but at this point there was no way he could even attempt a rescue. There were going to be a lot of dead people after this day was over. As he moved over to the engineering console once again, he saw that the pumps were still working as were the reactors despite the flooding. Most of the interior bulkheads were sealed, which would prevent further flooding of the main sections of the cruiser. However, Vasilov and her teams were fighting their way to seal off the forward bulkheads.

After ten minutes Remarah could do nothing but hope. To abandon ship in this weather would be a death sentence, and so he had given the order to prepare merely to give his crew hope. The only real hope, however, was in Vasilov sealing the bulkheads. But as waves smashed continually into the ship, which continued to slip lower into the sea, he admitted to himself that the odds were growing long.

HMS Trinity Falls

The long hulled cruiser sat relatively motionless at sea, ignoring the rocking from the swells of the rougher than usual sea. The large forward mast pointed skywards, as if trying to annoy the rest of Triton’s domain. For the first time in thirty years of service, however, the smoke stacks that usually dumped the diesel engine’s exhausts into the air remained clean as no power ran through the ship except minor batteries placed in secured locations for remote sensors scattered along the ship’s hull. The former HMS Toberth sat still in the water, without a crew, deep in the Azazian Sea, far from the prying eyes of the rest of the nation.

Not far from her sat another of her ilk, the former HMS Kiley. She sat in a similar position to that of her sister ship. Her engines long since quieted by the requirements of mothballing the aged cruiser fleet. For decades the Breningrad class had secured the Commonwealth’s seas and trade routes; and even as the country changed into the United Kingdom, the later batches of the Breningrad class still performed that duty with their comparatively heavy load of vertically launched missiles. Today, however, two of the originals of the class would perform an entirely different, but altogether important role in defending the Kingdom.

Commander Jason Little sat in a small uncomfortable seat on the open bridge, sipping his cup of tea and scratching his neat brown beard. Through thick black, plastic-rimmed glasses he peered out near the horizon where the two ships sat, several kilometers apart. Not far in the modern conditions of naval warfare. Little had been tasked by Admiral Kelley to test fire several new weapons planned to be deployed on the super-dreadnaught. Of course, Little now sat uncomfortable not just because of the Spartan seat, but because of the rumours of the last test-ship, the HMS Barkley, officially listed as “lost at sea, cause unknown.” Little of course knew the XO, Yuri Vasilov, and he had suddenly lost contact with him after he’d told him their last night out that his ship was to be testing a new gun for a new warship. Up until Little’s destroyer had been tasked with testing new torpedoes, he had never heard of the super-dreadnaught programme.

Of course, Little supported the plan, the mighty Royal Navy could easily take on any force her size or smaller and win, the problem lay in the few nations that had larger navies. Of course, the “victory” off the coast of Euroslavia, where the small out-dated carrier group decimated a force eight times its size was now legend within the Azazian naval community. Of course, they ignored the fact that only one cruiser like those out on the horizon had survived out of the entire engagement, and under repair she remained many months later.

On the deck amidships sat a container with a large torpedo sitting inside. In his cabin were documents explaining the new warhead and the new system, designed to obliterate capital ships. Usual torpedoes, at least those used by many navies on the high-seas attempted to blow holes in the sides of the target ship, a method increasingly impractical with the increasingly heavier armour carried by warships. The Royal Navy had then switched to a keel-breaking design that sped underneath the ship where it detonated, creating a bubble of pressure that would thrust the keel upwards, then as it rapidly contracted the vacuum force would then snap the keel back downwards, hopefully snapping the keel and mortally wounding the target.

Yet, the larger cruisers, battleships, and super-dreadnaughts remained blissfully unfazed by such weapons because they were all-in-all too small to leave much of an impact outside of some damaged panels or some dents and dings. Maybe a few dead barnacles. If the new super-dreadnaught was to take on capital ships, she would need an inventory capable of inflicting significant damage in one shot – and so the boys over at Arsenal had developed the “super-fish” as it had become nicknamed by those sailors aware of the project. Still an experimental weapon, obviated by its designation X-Torp-1, the first five usable prototypes had been developed and made ready to fire from escort ships.

Which concerned Little, for the torpedoes would not normally be carried by an escort vessel – of course the destroyer he commanded had also been stripped of all heavy machinery and weaponry deemed un-necessary, leaving a good amount of the crew back at Erickson Island for a length liberty pass. Little had therefore been left stuck with the thousands of kilograms of heavy explosives lashed to his deck. Another destroyer off his port bow would be launching heavy-duty anti-ship missile, designed to obliterate capital ships such as these cruisers in one fell swoop. Together the two little destroyers would theoretically be able to sink the two of the most powerful warships in the Royal Navy in two shots.

With a tap on the shoulder, a lieutenant handed Little a small piece of paper confirming the launch authorization – the test was ready, the sensors apparently armed. Little rose silently and downed the rest of his now lukewarm tea before proceeding to the closed bridge, from where he would watch the results of the test-fire. He crumpled the paper into a ball that he held tightly in his fist, hoping that something didn’t go terribly wrong. “Weapons officer, prepare torpedo for launch.”

“Aye, sir.” With those two little words final coordinates were programmed into the autonomous targeting computer that would guide the weapon to its final mate. The advanced electronics made the weapon truly fire-and-forget as the weapon had the onboard knowledge to target the most practical enemy warship it could, to devastate the most efficiently, a truly cold-blooded killing machine.

“Torpedo is ready for launch, captain.”

“Launch torpedo.”

A roar could be heard in the bridge from the fiery inferno that had enveloped the launch platform. The platform, forever scorched with carbon, nevertheless saw the sleek black object slam into the rolling seas and speed off towards its target at the maximum speed of fifty knots. Although the range was sacrificed for the warhead size, the weapon could still travel for forty-five kilometers, more than sufficient for the needs of today. It traveled beneath the surface unseen until on the distant horizon the former HMS Toberth was lit from the bottom by a bright flash, immediately afterwards the center of the ship rose into the air, the bow and aft halves of the ship looking as if they were rising up to meet at the point of an isosceles triangle, the ship sickeningly bent at a 90 degree angle on its keel. The roar of a distant explosion finally flew across the destroyer as they watched a giant plume of rust-coloured water and debris fly vertically into the air for hundreds of meters. The remainder of the ship quickly disappeared behind a veil of water.

Little gasped, the ship stretched 275 meters in length and displaced over 30,000 tons. And she was now invisible behind a wall of water. Slowly the ship emerged; down amidships as the ship now could be seen was split in half, the keel and the whole of the ship severed in two from the blast. “Bloody hell.” He muttered, the same or similar responses and feeling evinced by the curses and mutters of the rest of the command crew. It took only minutes for the massive ship to sink, each piece slipping backwards in towards the other. Eventually only the bow was left, pointing straight upwards, as in one last appeal to the gods of the sky and the stars, as her former god Triton had betrayed her to her inevitable death. The bow bobbed for a moment, the last bit of air keeping her afloat before she finally slipped beneath the waves and the sea returned to its semi-rough self.

Little observed the silence of the moment, until interrupted by the soothing voice of Lieutenant Gillian Harkinson. “Captain Rogov reports he is ready to fire his missile.”

Little, in command of the two ships, nodded. Still stunned by the brutal effectiveness of the new weapon he could do little else but move his head up and down before turning it to the side to watch the flames of the heavy anti-ship missile racing out of the container as the missile raced upwards into the sky. An extremely heavy missile, it had a shorter range than most anti-ship missiles, its path largely determined by a ballistic style trajectory that gave it the extra bit of range to reach distant targets.

Today, the trajectory mattered not for a target only a few dozen kilometers distant. The command crews of both ships, as well as those stationed outside, watched the trail of smoke as the missile raced towards its target, which then disappeared behind a ball of white and yellow colour that roiled upwards into the atmosphere. The colour moved and mixed into shades of red and orange as the former HMS Kiley reappeared nothing like her former self. The missile had landed not far from her forward magazines, which although empty of missiles and shells had simulated explosives to represent potential secondary explosions.

The entire audience observed no secondary explosions as the sympathetic detonations were entirely absorbed by the missile’s warhead. With his binoculars Little picked out little discernable shapes at the aft end, the rear gun remained half-intact, its barrel seemed broken in half, perhaps from the titanic vibrations that would have ripped through the hull. Forward of that, however, nothing remained that could be called a ship. The forward super structure had become a jagged burning hole, although the entirety of the ship could be called that, save the quarterdeck. Little just stood, stunned at the damage he saw before him. He couldn’t be sure, but the forward third of the ship looked as if it had been torn off or vaporized, it simply no longer could be seen. Quickly the ship began to lift into the air, by the bow. He closed his eyes and shook his head, unable to watch the sinking of a second former command ship from a single missile. He opened his eyes as the crew gasped, witnessing the aft half of the ship tearing free from the hull, its structure significantly weakened by the intense heat pouring out from the raging fires inside the hull that remained invisible to the eyes of those fixed on the carnage.

It took only moments for the former heavy guided missile cruiser to sink beneath the waves in three separate parts. Beneath the ocean would soon sit two utterly destroyed hulks of steel and titanium. Little wrote in his log how the sturdy vessels had been snapped like mere toothpicks between the fingers of a body-builder. Although coming in at merely 32,000 tons, the two ships signified the lower range of the targets for the weapons, the lower-class capital ships. Indeed, dreadnaughts and super-dreadnaughts would require far more to sink, but Little unknowingly proved that the Royal Navy’s design would be more than capable of seriously engaging its sisters and her little cousins.

Office of the Prime Minister, the Citadel
Imperium, Republic of New Britain

The compressed sounds of the engine made a substantial impact on Alistair Tetley’s eardrums as the door opened revealing the awaiting chopper, stamped with the seal of the Office of the Prime Minister – part of the PM’s own transportation service. Behind Tetley stood Daniel Blair and Admiral James Kelley, both sharp in their crisp suits, Blair’s entirely civilian in its simple but formal three-piece grey colours, and Kelley’s in the sharp black and gold lines of an admiral’s jacket, adorned with numerous awards and commendations. Tetley, however, stood in the forefront of the group in his own three-piece suit, his black with a simple and solid red tie, his wire-thin dark shades keeping the bright sun from blinding him as he boarded the helicopter.

With the three men aboard, the small craft lifted off with a gentle surge, allowing Tetley to face his entourage. “So, I understand the ships are both making ready to head out to Philadelphia?”

Blair nodded, shouting over the loud noise emanating from the engine. ‘Yes, sir. The Prince of Oceania is already making way to the offshore anchorage and the Prince of New Britain will set sail tonight under the cover of darkness. All should be ready in Philadelphia for the commissioning ceremonies later this week. In addition, the super-carriers Endeavour, Enterprise, and Eagle have all made preparations to set sail for the anchorage, as well as several of our new Type 85 battlecruisers, the new destroyers and frigates also will be making appearances. The ceremonies will be quite spectacular, sir. I assure you.”

“Most excellent, Daniel. I can’t wait. So, Admiral, how long have these ships taken to build?”

“Long enough, sir.” The trio of men laughed heartily, all well aware that the ships had been under construction for most of the past several years – even at their accelerated pace. “Nine years, sir. Round the clock, multi-shift construction, sir. It cost us quite a bit, but the results, sir, I believe will astound you.”

Tetley nodded, burying his head once more into the specifications provided him. “Twenty main guns?”

“Yes, sir. 635 millimeter caliber, provided by the Royal Arsenal. Largest in the Royal Navy.”

The ride passed mostly in silence for the remaining twenty minutes as the chopper flew northward, around the population of Breningrad for security purposes. Finally, as the chopper rounded the last hill, an outcrop of rocks staring down upon the deep estuary where the largest docks in the country were built, the HMS Prince of New Britain appeared.

“She looks like a large-scale model…” Tetley muttered.

Kelley smiled. “Sir, we’re still quite a distance away. She registers in at over a kilometer in length.”

“Dear god…”