No Way to Start a War (TCOTU, Book 2) (This Corner of the Universe) by Britt Ringel

Of
course…  Heskan looked to the first officer’s chair on his immediate left
and saw Vernay dutifully monitoring the commands being input by the bridge
officers.  Heskan knew that his first officer would scrutinize all of the
bridge crew’s ancillary commands required to carry out his orders and that any
questionable ones would be brought to his attention.  An order sounding as
simple as “fire at the incoming missile” was in reality very complicated when
one considered that the ship’s bearing, the facing of the firing laser turret, the
speed of the missile, the speed of the ship, the formation position of the ship
within the fleet and dozens of other considerations factored into the correct
solution.  The captain’s duty was to manage the battle tactics of the ship
within an engagement.   It was the first officer’s job to observe the detailed
bridge commands, provide oversight as a rule, approve when questionable, and
countermand when necessary.  Vernay’s eyes focused like cutting beams on the
chair arm console of her first officer’s seat as she monitored each of Kite’s commands.  Perspiration had broken out on her forehead.
    Heskan
leaned toward Vernay and said quietly, “Keep up the good work, Stacy.  It seems
like a lot at first but once you get used to it, you’ll be able to keep your
SA—” he used the military shorthand for situational awareness, “—on the
tactical plot too.”
    Vernay
nodded but did not look at her captain.  “It’s a bit much.  I commanded Anelace
on the graveyard shift a lot but I never had to deal with all this during
combat operations,” she said, waving at the mess of commands scrolling down her
console.
    Heskan
smiled knowingly and promised, “It’ll be second nature before you know it.  Have
your section commanders help you out by telling them to flag any actions they
think need verification.  You did that for Mike on Anelace.”  He shrugged and
continued, “For the most part, you just have to trust your people to do the
right—”
    “Captain,
message from Bulwark,” Truesworth interrupted.  He pressed buttons at his
station and the bridge’s wall screen split into halves, one side maintaining
the tactical plot, the other showing Durmont’s profile.
    The
lieutenant commander turned regally to face the screen, his excited expression
easy to read.  “Attention, CortRon Fifteen, this is your commander.  Early
warning craft have picked up an estimated twenty-five inbound bandits bearing
two eight zero, same plane.  We will shift to cover the fleet’s port side but
maintain square formation centered on Avenger .  Look sharp, the admiral is
watching.”
    Durmont
had given no “execute on” command and in its absence the standard procedure for
initiating fleet maneuvers was to use the time stamp on the specific command
and add one minute to it.  By waiting the allotted time, any combat formation
could move as one despite the communication time lag caused by the distances between
ships.  Durmont had placed the escort squadron in the standard square missile
defense formation for the exercise.  Each of CortRon 15’s three destroyers and
Durmont’s light cruiser anchored the corners while the frigates cruised near
the center of the square.  Currently, the corners were the textbook 10 ls apart, a distance ensuring that no missile directed at Avenger or Eagle would have an unchallenged path to its target.
    Heskan
watched the ship’s chronometer count down as Lieutenant Selvaggio started to
thrust Kite’s bow to port.  On the tactical plot, she extrapolated the
amount of time required to be in proper position.  Three minutes and twenty seconds
later, CortRon 15 settled into its new station.  On the wall screen, fighter
symbols sprung onto the tactical plot.  They were 22 lm away from Kite and closing fast.  In response, Avenger began launching fighter after
fighter.
    “Tony,” Heskan said to
his weapons officer, “rig point defenses