By Tyler Totten
Central Philippine Sea, 04:00 (GMT+9)
The missile dropped free of its pylon, its ramjet igniting and quickly racing ahead of the bomber. It joined its brethren charging east, sixty bright pinpricks of light in the pre-dawn sky. The bomber crews didn’t stop to consider the scene, turning already to make good on their escape to the west and waiting tankers. They had travelled far and didn’t want to run into the same fate as others before them. There were dangers in the skies and from the sea that they couldn’t always detect before it was too late.
The missiles, unburdened by such concerns, unwaveringly followed their flight plans. Their speed continued to build to Mach three as they curved south. Kilometers wound down as they tracked towards the designated point to energize their active systems and seek the enemy.
In an unremarkable section of ocean, the surface suddenly lit up with unnatural flashes. First a few and then dozens, briefly connecting the surface to the sky. Unnoticed by the missiles, lacking optical sensors, they carried on. Moments later their passive warning receivers lit up as radar washed over the formation. It was an airborne small array, but the missiles still didn’t react, well short of switching to terminal evasive maneuvers. Explosions rippled through the formation, small but numerous. Several of the flights were savaged, with half or more being holed by fragments and exploding, debris raining down on the ocean below. Their speed unchanged, the missiles ripped passed the unexpected hazard in seconds and continued on, thirty survivors no less focused than they had started.
Central Philippine Sea, 04:10 (GMT+9)
Captain Bryan Herera watched the thirty tracks continue east, pleased with his small group’s performance. His stealthy command frigate had only a single 57mm gun to contribute, but his smaller Hedgehog-class vessels had two each in addition to a 5-inch gun. While nominally unmanned and capable of such, both gun-armed Hedgehogs and the two Arsenal-class VLS-armed vessels in his group carried a small crew of twelve as “man-in-the-loop” for any weapons releases.
“My compliments to Lieutenants Chen and Willis on the gunnery.” Herrera nodded to himself as Lieutenant Thorne relayed his statement to both Hedgehogs via laser comm. The Hedgehog’s guns managed to nearly halve the passing raid, making the carrier’s lives much easier.
“Casablanca reports all her birds ready for tasking, other than the one returning from station now.” Thorne’s report broke into his introspection but it was welcome. Having all five of the medium endurance drones aboard his escort carrier ready for tasking was excellent. They had showed their hand today and soon, perhaps tomorrow, they would be targeted directly.
“Excellent Lieutenant. Oyster Bay’s status?” His thoughts shifted to the eight unmanned boats still in his tender. He had ordered two of them reconfigured from missile defense to ASW. An earlier warning had indicated there were numerous PLAN submarines suspected in the Philippine Sea and he wanted some added detect and engagement capability. His frigate carried a powerful ASW suite but some additional sonobuoy capability would be welcome. Casablanca’s drones could conduct ASW but their endurance was short by comparison.
“Oyster Bay is finishing boat refit now, they should have the two ASW boats out of the well deck in twenty minutes, Captain.”
“Let me know when they launch, Lieutenant.” Herrera sat back, relaxing slightly. He had done all he could, nothing left but waiting. He idly wondered how the carriers were doing against the missiles but didn’t have access to that data. He turned instead to the broader picture, bringing up the reports on the other forces in the area.
The Bataan Marine Littoral Regiment whose drone had provided him the raid warning was still in the fight, somehow. The PLA had been trying to dig them out for a week now, forcing the regiment to relocate constantly. Primarily an ISR asset, three of their five drones remained operational for raid warning. Given that the Philippine Navy and Air Force had been driven to near extermination in the war’s opening days, they represented one of the only available ISR assets that could provide such warning. Okinawa had been similarly pounded but the stronger Japanese defense forces had managed to retain some local control.
Removed slightly from the PLA land-based targeting, the Minami Daito Islands MLR still retained their air defense batteries at full strength, and six surviving F-35Bs of the attached squadron provided a CAP to the southwest. When SAG 58 finished their run north, they would withdraw east under cover of those forces so Herera was glad they remained.
The final asset in the immediate region was a squadron of P-7M Seamaster II seaplanes. Their specific location was unknown, represented on his tactical map as a 7,000 km2 box to his east. He didn’t envy those crews, sitting motionless on the surface waiting for orders to power up and strike a target. He knew that, if the opportunity presented itself, they would pounce on any PLAAF bomber squadron that came within range. Maybe even those that came for his group.
Central Philippine Sea, 19:45 (GMT+9)
“Flash traffic, Captain.” Thorne’s voice roused Herrera from his bunk in an instant, the general quarters klaxon sounding before she finished. He pulled on his coveralls from the chair in his small cabin and settled his heads-up display into place, stepping out the door less than sixty-seconds after the klaxon ended. Five steps later he was on the bridge.
“What have we got?” He asked, settling into his chair and pulling up the reports even before she could answer.
“Six H-6s inbound. A B-21 picked them up west of Taiwan five minutes ago. Based on their course and speed, expecting they’ll be at launch range in the next twenty to twenty-five minutes,” Thorne reported. Herrera scanned the data and looked at Roark’s computer projections of the meshed data.
“Let’s get ready then. Casablanca is to launch three drones to cover us, active coverage to start in fifteen minutes. Sprite and Stiletto are to deploy their decoys and set to match Casablanca and Oyster Bay without EMCON.” The Hedgehogs each carried a tethered inflatable decoy blimp. On launch, the blimp would float just aft of the ship and could adjust its radar reflectors to match the desired vessel. Coupled with its RF emitters and flares, the blimp could convincingly play the role of any ship in the Navy’s inventory. Early in the war’s outset, the blimps had been set to always emulate a big CVN but the PLA had wizened up quickly and started programming their missiles to ignore such targets when not expressly shooting at a CVN. Sadly, the enemy still got a vote.
“Casablanca acknowledges, Captain. Oyster Bay reports they have put their boat screen into computer control but are still at weapons hold.” Thorne paused, additional reports coming into her headset. “Lieutenants Chen and Willis acknowledge as well, Captain. Blimps will be deployed and transmitting in ten minutes.”
“Make sure they stay on top of that, we don’t have much more time than that.” He paused, checking the sea state and considering his next order. “And… actually I’ll do it, put them both on my line.”
“On your headset, sir.”
“Willis, Chen. Prep your command to transition to unmanned. Stay on top of those blimp deployments, time is short. Once they’re flying, get to the boats. Casablanca is already launching the comm drones. Understood?” Herrera was insistent. He’d prefer they get to the boats now but he needed those blimps.
“Aye sir.”
“Good luck gentlemen.”
Central Philippine Sea, 20:00 (GMT+9)
Herrera watched the boats pull away from the Hedgehogs, just visible in the fading light on the horizon. Each curled around aft of his ship, the cameras tracking automatically as they headed for the relative safety of Oyster Bay’s well deck. If the Hedgehogs survived the fight, they would head back to disarm the scuttling system and recrew the vessels. While the blimps were very effective decoys, they were by nature attached to the ships, but the direct approach of the raid would improve the defensive fire’s effectiveness. In other words, they were bait. While escorts had long been relegated to such roles to protect more valuable assets, Arsenal and Hedgehog class vessels had an option their predecessors didn’t. The crew could leave. While man-in-the-loop operations were the norm, each could operate remotely or autonomously.
Utilizing the latest in laser communication technology borrowed from NASA and breakthroughs in satellite-to-ground communication stations, both Hedgehogs would be linked back to Roark by secure laser. When the group was in fully automatic, Roark’s combat system would issue commands to every ship directly.
The command frigate program and the broader frigate-centric unmanned surface action group had been hotly debated compared with the legacy surface force and the more technology-centric AI-enabled warfare visions of the future fight. Hererra figured his vessel sat somewhere in the middle. At a glance, his frigate appeared underwhelming from a sensor and armament perspective. Housing a relatively small phased array radar, Roark relied mainly on offboard sensor feeds and passive gear. His ship’s primary function was command and control, including offboard vehicle control. Further reflective of that role was the stealth features, both above and below the water. Similar in principle to Visby and Zumwalt stealth vessels, Roark’s radar cross-section was tiny. Underwater acoustics was much the same, borrowing again from submarines in hull coatings and isolated machinery. He’d been surprised the first time he’d been in the machinery rooms. They were cramped, more of the volume seemingly consumed damping noise than on the actual electric propulsion systems. He was happy for his engineers that the mostly automated vessel didn’t require more than a daily walkthrough of those spaces. Everything was monitored remotely and, when not under EMCON, relaying status back to tenders and shore-based support. He knew they wouldn’t see a pier anytime soon, but the tenders carried all that was required for anything except the worst engineering casualties. His crew was sufficient for damage control but couldn’t keep up with the maintenance tasks that involved, even with Roark’s highly reliable, and expensive, systems.
On top of quieting, Roark also possessed the Navy’s best surface combatant sonar suite. Borrowing again from subs, she carried conformal arrays, a compact bow array, and latest generations of variable depth and towed arrays. He’d enjoyed their exercises against Columbia, managing to pin her twice. He was sure it put STRATCOM into cold sweats but it’d been immensely validating for the frigate’s proponents.
“Contact!” Herrera immediately focused on the plot, seeing the reported contacts as it updated with data from the AEW drone. As predicted, the H-6s appeared right where they were supposed to be. While presently just outside of his engagement window, they’d be forced within range of his weapons to launch their own. Roark’s combat system was more than up to the task of plotting the firing plan and even before he brought it up, the computer had populated a recommendation. He eyed it critically for a few moments before approving and sending to his group’s Arsenal ships, Bulwark and Palisade.
“Weapons engagement plan to your boards, Lieutenants.”
“Implementing now, Captain.”
“Same here Captain.”
Both having acknowledged, Herrera looked to the next layers of his defense. All the group’s gun systems showed green, Roark and the Hedgehogs would engage any missiles as soon as the range allowed. Casablanca and Oyster Bay’s SeaRAM would engage as last resort for each. Roark’s own VLS would also contribute, though with only 12 of 24 tubes dedicated to air defense, minimally so.
Even as he reviewed the firing plan, with Roark’s algorithms recommending expending most of the onboard missiles for the assumed raid size, Palisade’s first SM-6 roared away. Bulwark joined a moment later, temporarily obscuring both ships in smoke. The missiles blitzed for the bombers and, just as they reached halfway, the bombers reached launch range.
“Vampire, vampire. Inbound raid, 36 tracks. Classified as supersonic ASCMs.”
“Very well. Switch Roark to automated control.” Herrera acknowledged the entirely expected report. The H-6’s had managed to launch at something just beyond their best observed. No doubt the blimps radiated signatures combined with the very real signatures of Oyster Bay and Casablanca would be hard to miss, at least in a general sense. The SM-6 launches only further confirmed what the enemy already knew. Still, the SM-6 was fast and the bombers had to reverse course and run hard to escape. Most of them likely would, but even nibbling one or two would benefit everyone the next time.
Roark was running in automatic now with command of the entire group, immediately adjusting four ships’ headings. The orders went directly to each ship’s combat systems, the crew merely passengers. Taken as a group, SAG-58 was one of the most powerful anti-air warfare assets afloat. Roark collected and analyzed all the group’s sensor data. Needing only milliseconds to consider a thousand options, the orders flew across the laser comms network. Roark held fire herself, the offensive launches against the bombers already draining her inventory. Instead, Bulwark and Palisade rippled off ten missiles apiece. Satisfied with the initial salvo, Roark waited, tracking the entire action as the missiles closed and the SM-2s engaged. They performed well, 14 connecting with their targets. Absorbing the result in an instant, Roark adjusted Sprite’s heading once again and waited for the Hedgehogs’ 5” guns to come into range. Both ship’s guns spoke together, throwing eight rounds downrange in less than 10 seconds. Herrera almost jumped in his seat as Roark’s own 57mm got into the fight, coordinated with Sprite and Stiletto’s guns.
Far off in the distance, the ship’s cameras could just pick up the first detonations as his group filled the sky with explosives and steel. More and more missiles were holed and tumbled into the sea. The cameras showed only momentary flashes but he knew well enough what they were. The inbounds continued to drop, quickly even, but they were approaching even faster. He realized, a moment before the first hit, that the group wasn’t going to get them all. The final few seconds before impact were just enough time for him to read the plot and see who the leakers were headed for. Chaff, flares, and active decoy systems emerged from both his big ships and Oyster Bay loosed a RAM at one uncomfortably close missile. But neither were the true targets.
Instead, two missiles focused on Stiletto, specifically her blimp. Herrera couldn’t see it but the supersonic missile closed with what it thought to be a prime target. The terminal phase saw it changing altitude by hundreds of meters and flying in a curling spiral pattern before, at its determined relative location, tipping down and diving into the top of the ship. Hitting practically nothing, its detonation sequence wasn’t triggered by the thin composite layers. By luck the missile lightly clipped a structural rib near the blimp’s center just enough to trigger its onboard detonation mechanism. Before the millisecond sequence could complete, it was through the blimp. The sequence completed just before it collided with the ocean itself. The resultant explosion threw shrapnel in all directions, adding dozens of additional holes to the blimp and perforating Stiletto’s stern. The ship’s onboard systems detected the breaches and small fires the shrapnel caused as it tore through systems, automated firefighting systems reacting inhumanly fast.
On the other side of the formation, Sprite was less lucky. Two missiles made it through the defenses and weren’t dissuaded by the last resort decoys. One targeted the blimp, detonating to even less effect than the one that killed Stiletto’s blimp. The second missile, the last one of the raid, targeted Sprite herself, diving down and into his aft quarter. Burying itself into the main deck, this sensor completed its arming sequence perfectly to detonate in main engineering. The resultant explosion ripped through the internal systems and the ship lost power immediately. Backup systems that still functioned came online and kept the ship connected to the group network, but none of the automated damage control systems responded.
Aboard Roark, Herrera saw the damage reports scroll through but focused on Sprite. Her sensor systems were mostly functional, even a few in main engineering, but it was clear that none of her main power generation or damage control systems were online. Flooding had been detected in the almost half the ship already and external cameras from the ship showed the billowing smoke emerging from her aft deck. Perhaps if he ordered Oyster Bay to dispatch her damage control teams standing by for the express purpose of assisting Sprite’s automated systems they could save the small vessel, but Herrera had already looked at the plot. They were almost under the protective coverage of the Minami Daito Marine Littoral Regiment’s battered squadron, but that still left them in engagement range for another day, longer if they were slowed towing Sprite while working to restore propulsion and something approximating watertight integrity. If that was even possible. He activated his comm.
“Lieutenant Chen, Sprite’s had it. Your orders are to board and ensure functional scuttling routines. Set for twenty minutes and evac.”
“Understood sir, we’ll be aboard in fifteen. Sprite’s embark ladder shows functional.” Chen sounded downtrodden but unsurprised. He’d been reading the same data.
“Be careful over there, she did her duty but took a beating.”
“Yes Captain, we’ll be careful.”
The group continued to push east at a brisk 25 knots, Chen and his crew completing their task and returning to Oyster Bay. As they did, Sprite’s computer activated the scuttling routine and charges ripped open every compartment to the sea. The effects went unnoticed by her companions, the charges themselves unimpressive to an outside observer. Still, they were highly effective and seemingly in an instant, she vanished beneath the waves with a thin oil slick, the only sign of her passing.
Chen wasn’t sure if it made sense to mourn the loss of a robotic entity but he still whispered, almost silently.
“Fair winds and following seas.”
Tyler Totten is a naval engineer who has supported several Navy and Coast Guard programs, including DDG-1000, EPF, LCS, USCG WCC, and DDG(X), with a deep interest in international and specifically maritime security. He is also an amateur science fiction writer published on Kindle. He holds a B.S from Webb Institute in Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering. He can be found on X/Twitter at @AzureSentry.
Featured Image: Art created with Midjourney AI.
