Ficlets

On Target, commence firing

Above the bridge, in the firecontrols forward station were two sailors. One, the senior noncom, Second Class Firecontrolman Max Titus, the other was a Seaman Apprentice, a new kid. They sat in dim light in front of an array small screens and control wheels.

This was the new kid’s first time at a battle station, he was excited and bewildered by the myriad of controls. Max said, “Son,” Max being two years older than the kid, “Our job is to find the target and lock onto it. Once that is done our job is done. All the forward guns will go into auto and commence firing.”

The two sailors watched the screens, looking for a blip as they searched the sky through the firecontrol radar. The only sound was the ocean being cleaved apart as the ship sped forward.

Suddenly.

“There!” the kid shouted. “There it is!”

“Very good,” said Max. “See the two blips? The first one is the plane and the second is the sleeve. We now lock onto the sleeve and viola! we’ve done out part.” With that he clicked a switch.

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