The firing solution was atypical; the target, unusual. Calculations produced a steep angle of attack; negligible gravitational pull from the target required a higher than standard approach velocity. Increased velocity meant increased risk of detection. But SUNGRAZER saw no indication of sensor arrays at the target site. And her directives were clear.
She followed her protocol, transmitted her intentions back to her controller, requested final confirmation. The reply was nearly instantaneous.
Fire.
SUNGRAZER rolled into her attack vector, increased her velocity to match her previous calculations. On her starboard side, a launch platform irised open. The munition armed. At a moment precisely timed, SUNGRAZER reached her terminal point and released.
The instant the projectile had left its housing, SUNGRAZER arced away from her attack vector, allowing her velocity to carry her gracefully along her escape trajectory. And while she sped away, her payload sped home.
The projectile met its target 741.18 kilometers distant at full velocity, imparting 4.88 gigajoules of energy concentrated into a focal point less than a meter in diameter. Destruction of the target from the resulting blast was thorough; shattered fragments and dust vomited out into open space, never again to settle.
And the yield had been but a fraction of her potential.
The asteroid she’d fired upon posed no threat, had no strategic value that SUNGRAZER could discern. But hers was not to decide. Hers was to wait, and to watch, and when called upon, to act.
The impact was just under two meters from the target origin; well within operationally-acceptable tolerances, but not up to SUNGRAZER’s exacting standards. To her, imprecision was the same as a miss. She assessed her calculations, ran systems diagnostics. Recalibrated.
Next time, she would not miss.