Ark Royal

Chapter Twenty

“Kiev is in position, sir.”

Ted nodded, one eye glancing down at the status display. The entire ship was at battlestations, every gun charged and ready to engage enemy targets, every starfighter ready to launch at a moment’s notice. Ahead of them, the invisible gravimetric tramline shimmered on the display, waiting for them to trigger the Puller Drive and be catapulted into the New Russia System.

“Order her to jump in five minutes,” he said. The Russian frigate had requested — demanded — the right to make the first jump into enemy-held territory. Ted had his doubts, but someone had to take the risk and jump. “And then recheck our stealth systems.”

He scowled at the thought, pushing down the mad impulse that called for a drink. Ark Royal had been carefully rigged for silent running, but compared to the alien stealth systems humanity’s systems were a sick joke. All it would take was a brief failure and the aliens would know precisely where they were. The moment they launched starfighters, he knew, they might as well surrender all attempts to remain hidden. And the aliens might just, if they caught a tiny break, track them from a distance without tipping their hand.

“All systems are operational,” Farley said. The tactical officer sounded grimly professional, without the doubts that afflicted his commanding officer. “They won’t see us coming.”

“Let us hope not,” Ted grunted. He looked over at the screen showing Fitzwilliam’s face. “XO?”

“All decks report ready, sir,” the XO said. He sounded rather less confident than Farley. They’d been through as many possible scenarios as they could, but it was impossible to escape the simple fact that the aliens knew they were coming. It was quite possible that they’d rigged a proper ambush at New Russia, just waiting for Ark Royal to stick her head in the noose. “We’re as ready as we will ever be.”

Ted smiled, rather sadistically. “And the reporters?”

“In the secondary bridge, under supervision,” Fitzwilliam assured him. “They’re terrified, sir.”

Good to hear it, Ted thought. The reporters were pests in human form — if, of course, reporters could be considered human. At least the experienced ones knew better than to assume that they weren't going into danger. The doctor had even told him that three of the reporters had requested sleeping pills, just to help them rest at nights. Clearly, the inexperienced reporters should have spent more time considering the implications of a deep-strike mission before it was too late to refuse the assignment.

He pushed the thought aside as the counter reached zero. Kiev vanished from the display, flickering out of one star system and into another. The usable section of the tramline was entire light-hours long — it was unlikely that the aliens had managed to mass their ships in the right position to catch the flotilla as soon as it arrived — but he had to be wary. It was quite possible that the aliens had made some accurate guesses about where his ships intended to arrive and positioned themselves accordingly.

What if the frigate never returned? They’d discussed all of the possibilities, finally coming to the conclusion that they would need to back off and seek another tramline into the New Russia System. It would be inconvenient, to say the least; they’d be risking another encounter with alien starships, all the while drawing no closer to completing their mission. Maybe, if that happened, they would be better off withdrawing and returning to Earth…

There was a ping from the console as the frigate snapped back into existence.

Ted let out a sigh of relief, then leaned forward. “Get me a full data download,” he said, addressing Farley. “Now!”

He watched as the data scrolled up on his screen. Kiev was one of the most modern starships in the Russian Navy — and, with her mission set in stone, various other powers had contributed their own sensor systems for her part of the operation. As far as she could tell, there were no alien starships within sensor range — or, for that matter, any human signals coming from New Russia. The only detectable signals seemed to be alien; they’d been recorded for analysis, but so far the automated systems couldn't make head or tails of them.

Not too surprising, Ted thought. The Royal Navy encrypted radio transmissions as a matter of course — they preferred laser communicators, which were effectively beyond interception — and there was no reason to assume the aliens thought differently. Even if they didn't, they still spoke an alien tongue that wouldn't be anything like English. Deciphering their language will take years.

“Looks clear,” his XO said, finally. His voice hardened. “Unless it’s a trap, of course.”

Ted nodded. The aliens might not want to distribute starships randomly around the stars surrounding New Russia — they’d run the risk of being overwhelmed by a locally superior human force — but they wouldn't want to abandon New Russia without a fight. Leaving the door open could be nothing more than an attempt to lure Ark Royal into the system, with the aliens waiting until they were deep inside before springing the trap. But there was no way to avoid the risk. If they backed off entirely, they might as well surrender New Russia for good.

“Signal the flotilla,” he ordered. He couldn't push his doubts out of his mind, but he had to proceed anyway. “We will advance to the tramline and jump.”

Moments later, Ark Royal shuddered as her drives came online, propelling her onwards towards the tramline… and destiny.

The flight suits were supposed to be the most comfortable outfits in the Royal Navy, Kurt had been told. With inserted computer systems, each one cost upwards of a hundred thousand pounds, a price tag that never failed to make civilians sputter in horror. They were supposed to be comfortable… so why did he feel sweat trickling down his back?

Your first real combat jump, he told himself. The starfighter pilots were on alert, crammed into their craft and braced for immediate launch… if they ran into an alien ambush. He couldn't help thinking of the possible disasters waiting for them. What if the aliens had an ambush waiting for them that would blow Ark Royal away before she launched her fighters? Or what if… he tried to push the thought out of his mind, but it mocked him. He felt helplessly vulnerable. Outside, even in his fragile fighter, he would have a chance. Inside, he knew that he could die before the fighters were launched into space.

“All hands, prepare for jump,” the XO’s voice said. “I say again, all hands prepare for jump.”

Kurt braced himself, feeling tension running down his spine. All of the pilots probably felt the same way. Combat jumps were rare, even in exercises; now, they were performing one for real. If something went wrong… angrily, he forced himself to think about the series of v-mails he had recorded for his children. Of course, if the entire flotilla was wiped out, they would never receive them. It was one of the reasons the Admiralty insisted on all naval personnel recording farewell messages and rewriting their wills prior to departure.

He wondered, absently, what they would think of him after he died. Would they think of him as a hero or a man who had abandoned his family to play starfighter pilot? He hadn't had a choice, yet it might not matter. Part of Kurt still resented his father for dying, even though the old man hadn't had a choice either. Would Penny and Percy understand why he’d had to go or would they resent him for dying? God knew it wasn't as through the family could claim a proper pension from his former employers. He wouldn’t be old enough to qualify for the company’s pension scheme, if he died today. And the Royal Navy pension wouldn't be enough for the family.

Molly will hate me, he thought, morosely. And why not? Without his income, the kids would have to be transferred to a free school. Their education would suffer quite badly, he knew; he had no faith at all in government-run schools. And Penny would fall in with an even worse crowd than she had at her private school. But she’d probably be pleased. At least she wouldn't have to put up with Madame Capet any longer.

“Seconds to go,” Rose said, her voice breaking into his thoughts. She sounded suspiciously eager to come to blows with the aliens. “I love you all, guys.”

Kurt rolled his eyes as the other pilots made their replies, some of them dreadfully obscene, then cleared his throat loudly. “Maintain radio silence,” he reminded them. It was unlikely that the alien sensors were good enough to pick up the tiny bursts from the starfighters, at least while they were in their launch tubes, but he didn’t want to take chances. “And do try to be professional out there.”

“Ten seconds to jump,” the XO said. “All hands, brace for jump. I say again, all hands brace for jump.”

Understood, Kurt thought. He braced himself as best as he could. Five seconds to go…

Charles, wearing full shipboard armour, watched as the Royal Marines braced themselves for the jump. They were all brave men — no one joined the Royal Marines without being ready for anything — but none of them liked the idea of being helpless as their starship jumped into potential danger. On the ground, they were lions; in space, they fretted over the prospect of being wiped out by a random missile strike. If Ark Royal came under heavy attack, there was little they could do beyond assisting the damage control teams.

“Five seconds,” Sergeant Fred Miles said, softly. “Here we go.”

Charles gritted his teeth as he felt the strange sensation of the jump building up around them, a feeling that defied analysis. The scientists swore backwards and forwards that no one should feel anything, but there was still a vaguely unpleasant feeling as the starship made its jump. Perhaps it was just a product of their imagination, the scientists had observed, a reflection of their awareness that something had changed. And yet… even when someone was unaware of the exact timing of the jump, they still felt the effects.

“Yes,” he muttered, as the sensation faded away. “Here we go.”

Ted had half-expected to see missiles or plasma bolts screeching towards them as soon as they materialised, even though Kiev hadn't detected any alien starships within sensor range. Instead, nothing greeted Ark Royal as she flickered back into existence, all hands braced for immediate attack. Ted gazed down at the screen and saw nothing, apart from the gravimetric signatures of the tramline and the system’s planets. The aliens seemed to have missed their arrival completely.

“All clear,” Farley said. He sounded doubtful. “But they could be lurking under stealth and we’d never know about it.”

“True,” Ted agreed. As long as they remained in the tramline, they could jump out again at the first sign of an alien threat, but they couldn't remain in the tramline indefinitely. “Launch the first set of recon platforms, followed by the drones. I want them established according to the operational plan.”

He paused, then took a gamble. “And see if you can link into the Russian deep-space surveillance platforms,” he added. “Use the command codes the Russians provided.”

“Chancy,” Fitzwilliam muttered. “The aliens might well have destroyed it.”

Ted couldn't disagree. Like most interstellar powers, the Russians had established a sensor network to watch for illicit activity in their home system. Unlike multinational systems like Terra Nova, the Russians owned the entire New Russia System and refused to allow anyone else to establish settlements within their territory. It was easy enough to hide from such a system, but not without restricting one’s activity to the bare minimum. Besides, there were enough unclaimed systems for hidden colonies to establish themselves without the risk of being obliterated by the Russians.

The seconds ticked away as the passive sensors began to pick up traces of alien activity. A handful of signals seemed to be emitting from the direction of New Russia itself, while another handful seemed to be coming from the asteroid cloud surrounding the system’s larger gas giant. Ted wondered, absently, if the aliens had managed to capture the system’s cloudscoop intact, before deciding it didn't matter. It wasn't as if a cloudscoop was a difficult device to construct.

“I picked up a low-level query from the Russian system,” Farley reported. “They took their time.”

“Too long,” Fitzwilliam said. “What do they want?”

“More codes,” Farley said. He looked up, alarmed. “Sir, we don’t have any other codes.”

Ted frowned. It was understandable that it had taken several minutes for the Russian system to respond. The closest platform was several light minutes from the tramline, while the automated systems would have to decide if it was worth taking the risk of responding to the signal. But to ask for other codes…? It made no sense… unless, of course, there were a handful of Russians still hiding out in the asteroid fields, watching the aliens from afar.

“Check with Ivan,” Ted ordered. If the codes they had were insufficient, did they dare risk sending a signal in clear? And would the Russians believe them if they did? “If not, we will have to do without the Russian platforms.”

There was a long pause. “Ivan thinks that the system has been reprogrammed by one of his people,” Fitzwilliam reported. “It was apparently a security precaution. He suggests sending a message in Russian.”

Ted frowned. “Ask him to record one,” he ordered. He looked back down at the display. If it was a trap… they were about to spring it. “And then transmit it.”

He felt his frown deepening as the message flickered down the laser link. No human starship could remain on alert indefinitely, not outside the fevered imagination of movie producers and politicians without military experience. His crew either needed to get into battle or relax, yet he didn't dare risk either. Knowing Murphy’s habit of showing up at the worst possible time, they’d have their pants down around their ankles when the aliens finally launched their ambush. But if they were waiting for Ark Royal to move…

“Picking up a response,” Farley said. “They’re sending us a detailed data dump.”

“Run it through the standard security precautions, then pass it to the isolated analyst system,” Ted ordered. It was unlikely in the extreme that the aliens could produce a virus capable of attacking Ark Royal’s computers — and, if they did, it wouldn't be any use against more modern carriers — but there was no point in taking chances. Besides, human opponents might well have worked out ways to attack the ship’s systems. “And then order one-half of our crews to stand down.”

“Understood,” Fitzwilliam said. “Will you be resting yourself, Captain?”

“No,” Ted said. He couldn’t relax… and if he left the bridge, he might give into the temptation to take a drink or two. Or, if he took a pill, Fitzwilliam might have to command Ark Royal and the flotilla when the aliens finally attacked. That would look awful on his service record. “But you are to take a nap in your quarters.”

An hour ticked by slowly as the recon platforms inched their way into the inner system, towards the looming presence of New Russia. The handful of orbital stations the Russians had built to make transhipment easier were gone, not entirely to Ted’s surprise. Stalin, the larger of the two moons, had once held a large-sized mining colony. That too was gone, leaving only a scar on the lunar surface. Judging by the size of the blast, the aliens definitely did have nukes — and were prepared to use them too. There was nothing else, as far as he knew, that could produce such damage.

“Interesting that they didn't want to capture the facility,” Farley mused. “They don’t build their starships out of unobtainium or anything unknown to us. The Russians mined for materials to build starships here. Why wouldn’t the aliens want it for themselves?”

Ted shrugged. “Maybe they don’t intend to keep New Russia,” he suggested. “As long as we don’t know where their homeworlds are, they can just keep dancing around us, defying us to catch and crush their fleets. Eventually, they’d grind us down to the point where they can launch an invasion and occupy our remaining worlds.”

He scowled at the thought. While they were crawling towards New Russia, the aliens might well have launched their fleets towards Britannia, Washington, Ghandi or even Confucius, targeting humanity’s shipyards and industrial nodes away from Earth. The thought of Britannia being ravaged by the aliens was horrifying — and he knew the other spacefaring powers would feel the same. They’d invested literally trillions of pounds in the out-system colonisation program.

The console chimed. “Sir,” Farley said, “we’ve found the alien fleet.”

“Show me,” Ted ordered.

One by one, the alien fleet came into view. It wasn't in orbit around New Russia — apart from a handful of frigate-sized craft that seemed to be in low orbit — but lurking some distance from the planet. Ted puzzled over it for a long moment, then decided that the aliens were clearly preparing an offensive. As alien as their craft were, they seemed to fall into roles comparable to humanity’s fleets.

“Fourteen carriers, of two different types,” Farley said. “Fifty-two smaller craft, mainly frigate-sized, and thirty-five freighters. The latter seem to be transhipping supplies to the carriers.”

Ted cursed their luck. If they’d arrived in time to take advantage of the alien distraction… he shook his head. They’d just have to work with what they had.

“Keep expanding the recon network,” he ordered. A direct assault on the alien fleet would be suicidal, but there were always options. “And then let me see what happened when the system fell.”