Ark Royal (24 page)

He shook his head.  Any plan with too many moving pieces was a plan that was likely to go spectacularly wrong. 
That
had been hammered into his head at the Academy.  Logically, the aliens would have learnt the same lesson during their expansion into space.  And that meant ...

... What if Vera Cruz was right next to an alien system?

Shaking his head, he pushed the thought aside as a new set of icons appeared on the display. 

“One alien carrier, previously unknown design,” Fitzwilliam’s voice said.  “Judging by her size, she can deploy more starfighters than any of our carriers.”

“Take us towards her,” Ted ordered.  He switched back to the system display and smiled to himself.  Unless the aliens retreated at once, they wouldn't be able to find a tramline to escape before the humans overran their position.  “And ready the mass drivers.”

He studied the live feed from the drones, silently considering what he was seeing.  The alien carrier looked fragile, somehow, compared to
Ark Royal
.  But then, so did a modern human carrier.  Once they got a solid lock on her hull, she was dead.  He watched the mass drivers powering up, ready to unleash a shotgun blast of ballistic projectiles that would be enough to damage the alien ship, even destroy her if they scored a direct hit.  On the display, the alien ship launched another wing of starfighters, then started to pull back.  Ted wasn't too surprised.

Quickly, he considered his options.  He could launch bombers after her, knowing that the tiny ships could definitely catch up with the alien ship.  But the alien ship bristled with point defence and he didn't dare lose too many bombers, not unless he intended to return to Earth with his tail between his legs.  He could cut loose a handful of frigates and send
them
after the carrier, escorted by a couple of starfighter squadrons ... it seemed the best option.

Reaching for his console, he began to issue orders.

***

“You heard the Captain,” Kurt said, as five of the frigates moved out of formation and started to advance on the alien carrier.  “Alpha and Beta will cover the frigates.”

The alien starfighters seemed to recognise the threat at the same moment.  They broke away from their previous engagements and streaked towards the frigates, aiming blasts of plasma fire at their weapons and drives.  One of the frigates staggered out of formation as a lucky hit totalled its drive systems, the others continued towards the alien carrier, which seemed to be picking up speed alarmingly fast.  No match for a frigate, Kurt noted absently, but faster than any human carrier.  All their calculations had been based on flawed data.

He shot a brief burst of fire at one of the alien starfighters, then threw his starfighter into an evasive pattern as two alien craft swooped down on him.  His first target evaded his fire and continued attacking the frigates, only to be picked off by a burst of railgun fire from the lead starship.  Kurt allowed himself a smile, then yanked his craft around and blew one of his pursuers into flaming vapour.  The other broke off and headed back towards his carrier.

“They’re pulling back,” Rose said, in surprise.  “Where do they think they’re going?”

“One of their tramlines,” Kurt said, as the frigates picked up speed desperately.  Warning lights flashed on his display as
Ark Royal
unleashed a blast of shotgun pellets from her mass drivers, but somehow he doubted they would score a hit.  The aliens, aware of the danger, were randomly altering course as they struggled towards the tramline.  “I think we’re going to lose her.”

Four minutes later, he swore out loud as the alien craft crossed the edge of the tramline, recovered her remaining fighters and vanished.  There was a brief gravimetric pulse, indicating a successful transit, then nothing.  The aliens had taken advantage of their technology to escape.  He looked down at his display, wondering if there were any alien starfighters that hadn't been recovered in time to allow them to escape, but saw nothing.  The battlefield was empty of hostile ships.

“Return to the barn,” he ordered.  “Beta will remain on CSP.  Everyone else, land and snatch a mug of tea.  The bastards will be back.”

***

“Their drive gives them an advantage,” James nodded, looking up at the display.  It was easy to tell where the aliens had gone, but impossible to stop them.  There was a tramline that ran from the alien destination to New Russia, which meant that the aliens in New Russia would have at least a day’s warning that
Ark Royal
was on her way.  “Tell the boffins we need a comparable system ourselves.”

The Captain snorted.  “I don’t think it's that easy to duplicate an alien system,” he said, over the intercom.  “We still don't even have a theory for how they do it.”

James nodded ruefully, running his hand through his hair.  By any reasonable standard, they'd won another victory ... but it could lead to their defeat.  The aliens had lost more starfighters, yet they’d managed to damage a handful of frigates
and
alert their superiors that a human formation was approaching New Russia.  He found himself seriously considering advising the Captain to abort the mission.  No one would object if the Captain chose to safeguard his ship – the one victorious ship in the Royal Navy –rather than launching a direct assault on a world that would be ready for them, by the time they finally arrived.

“We need to build those battleships,” the Captain added.  “If we had more mobile firepower, we might be able to give the aliens a nasty surprise.”

“True,” James agreed.  “A battleship would be very useful.”

He smiled.  To give the Royal Navy’s designers their due credit, they had started updating
Ark Royal’s
schematics ... and then outlining a battleship concept that would be crammed with mass drivers, rail guns and armoured so heavily that the alien weapons wouldn't have a hope of breaking through into the vulnerable innards.  But it would take at least a year, once the designs were finalised, to put them into production ... assuming that nothing went wrong.

And the war doesn't come to a screeching halt before we complete them
, he added, in the privacy of his own thoughts. 
The aliens aren't going to stop innovating either.

“Captain,” he said slowly, “should we consider withdrawing?”

The Captain hesitated.  “I think we should do what repairs we can, then I will make the final decision,” he said.  “Two of the frigates may have to be sent back to Earth.”

Which would be very unlucky for them, James knew, if the aliens had started trying to block their escape route.  Given their FTL drives, they could put a small squadron of lighter starships within all of the potential human systems ... and then intercept the human ships before they even realised they were under attack.  But the alternative was abandoning them in the penal system or simply scuttling them now, before the aliens could recover the ships.

“I’ll see to it,” James said.  “Should we spare any other ships to act as escorts?”

The Captain shook his head.  “We can't spare anything, not now,” he said.  He grinned, suddenly.  “And you can brief the reporters yourself.”

James sighed.  “Yes, sir,” he said.  “But they will want an interview with you too.”

“I’m going to be very busy,” the Captain said.  He smirked, although there was no malice in his expression.  “You’ll have to handle them.”

“Yes, sir,” James said, again.

He closed the channel, then procrastinated by checking the damage reports from the ships the aliens had targeted.  They’d definitely learnt from experience, he told himself; they’d targeted weapons, rather than the armoured hulls.  But it was an effective tactic, he had to admit, and one that could be repeated time and time again.  There might be a second attack in the next system, which would have the additional disadvantage of convincing the aliens that New Russia was the target ...

As if they were in any doubt
, he thought, sourly.

***

Kurt ordered his squadron to wait in the ready room until he was reasonably confident that the aliens weren't about to put in another attack immediately, then reminded the pilots to make sure they staggered their showers and meals.  If the aliens
did
return, they'd need to drop everything and return to the fray.  Starfighter pilots were used to snatching sleep where they could – constant exercises saw to that - but this was different.  This time, they might be snapped awake and flung out into space to do battle with the aliens once again.

Shaking his head, he reached for a terminal and began to type out a message for his family.  If the damaged frigates were sent back to Earth, they could carry the messages ... although he knew the censors would see them before they were uploaded into the planetary datanet.  He was midway through writing the message when another message popped up in his inbox.  It was from one of the reporters, asking for an interview.  Judging by the curses he could hear around the ready room, he wasn't the only one to get such a message.

“Tell them you’re still on duty,” he advised.  Honestly, the constant demands for interviews were getting beyond a joke.  “And then remember that you
are
on duty.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Captain,” Farley said.  “The two frigates have crossed the tramline and vanished.”

“Good,” Ted said.  The frigates, assuming they made it, carried both letters from his crewmen and his theory that Vera Cruz was near an alien homeworld.  Whatever happened, the Admiralty would have a chance to consider the possibilities.  “Resume course.”

“Aye, sir,” Lightbridge said.  A dull quiver ran through the ship as the carrier resumed her slow plod towards New Russia, accompanied by the remainder of the flotilla.  “Course underway.”

“Launch a second shell of recon drones,” Ted added.  “I want to know about the faintest hint of an alien presence.”

He looked up at the display.  The aliens, damn them, would know their rough course and speed.  Assuming their commanders reacted at once – an assumption he dared not reject – they could have another carrier in place to intercept the flotilla long before they reached New Russia.  But there was a chance they could sneak through ...

“Drones away,” Farley said.  “Passive sensors ... online.”

Ted nodded.  Passive sensors were nowhere near as capable as active sensors, but at least they didn't radiate any betraying emissions for alien sensors to detect.  Using active sensors would have betrayed their position to the aliens, while the aliens themselves might remain undetected until it was far too late to avoid another ambush.  There were times, Ted knew, when he might want to advertise his presence, but not in what might as well be unfriendly space.

He rose to his feet.  “You have the bridge,” he said, addressing Farley.  “I’ll be in my office.”

“Aye, sir,” Farley said.  “I have the bridge.”

Ted strode through the airlock and sagged, almost as soon as the airlock hissed closed behind him.  The weight of command had never felt so heavy, not even when he’d first assumed command of the carrier ... although, to be fair, no one had ever seriously expected
Ark Royal
to resume active service as anything more than a museum piece.  Now ... a mistake on his part could cost humanity the war.  What if the attack on New Russia was a total disaster?

He’d thought, seriously, about abandoning the mission and withdrawing the way they’d come.  It wouldn't have been a cowardly decision, he knew; there were strong reasons to favour a withdrawal and a return to Earth.  He knew that there would be people who would say otherwise, who would accuse him of being a coward, yet he knew he had the moral stubbornness to proceed anyway.  But they had to knock the aliens back on their heels and New Russia was the only reasonable target ... at least until they found an alien homeworld they could target.

There was a chime.  He looked up, then keyed the switch that opened the hatch, allowing Midshipwomen Lopez to step into the office.  Annoyingly, she looked as fresh as ever, despite the brief and violent battle.  Ted rubbed his forehead, wondering if he was losing his hair at a faster rate now he was going back into action, then dismissed the thought.

“Commander Fitzwilliam ordered me to bring you tea and cake,” she said, as she placed the tray down on his desk.  Ted blinked in surprise, then looked up at her.  There was nothing, but earnestness in her eyes.  “He also said you should get some sleep.”

Ted grunted.  It would be three days before they reached New Russia – three days, which would give the aliens ample time to prepare a surprise.  He’d planned their approach to bring them into the system as far from the primary star as possible, but he was still uncomfortably aware that the aliens might well detect their arrival and come swarming.  Just what were they
doing
in the system, anyway?  There were no shortage of theories, yet there was no hard data.

“Thank you,” he said, wondering why Fitzwilliam hadn't suggested it in person.  It wasn't as if their relationship was
that
tense.  “Was there anything else he wanted to say?”

“Apparently, one of the reporters wants to talk to you,” Midshipwomen Lopez said.  “But I believe the XO has headed her off at the pass.”

“Understood,” Ted said.  “Tell him that I will speak to
one
reporter tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes.  No doubt the reporters wanted reassurance from the command staff that they hadn't been in any real danger.  He wondered, absently, if they’d believe the truth, that the aliens had been the ones who had decided the tempo of operations.  If they’d pressed the offensive ... it was odd, when he thought about it.  The aliens had shown an odd sensitivity to losses.