The Nelson Touch

Chapter Twenty

“We were right,” Ted said.

He smiled — the nap had definitely done him good — as Target One appeared on the display in front of him. Even restricted to passive sensors, the frigates had picked up a considerable amount of data and visual images, revealing that Target One was definitely a heavily-developed star system. There were cloudscoops orbiting one of the two gas giants, hundreds of spacecraft making their way through the star system and endless streams of radio transmissions from a planet in the centre of the life-bearing zone. In some ways, it was just as impressive as Earth’s industrial development.

“It could be the alien homeworld,” Lopez mused. “We might be targeting the source of the war.”

Ted doubted it. If the captured data could be believed, the aliens — like humanity — had spread out in a rough sphere, which suggested the location of their homeworld. Target One was closer to Earth than it should have been, if it were the alien homeworld. But there was no way to know for sure until they checked the planet’s biochemistry against the captured samples of alien DNA. They might be wrong…

He turned to look at the images of the other commanders, floating in the CIC. “We will proceed into the system under the tightest stealth we can manage,” he said. Coming out of the tramline so far from the target planet the odds of detection were minimal. But he still had no inclination to take chances. “We will advance towards the planet, unless the drones reveal a much more interesting target of opportunity, and attack when we enter range.”

Shallcross looked surprised. “We could wreck their cloudscoops and industrial mining facilities in passing,” he said. “Or simply target them with mass driver shots.”

“We can do that once the planet is secure,” Ted said. He recalled the outline plans they’d drawn up while plotting the operation. “The planet comes first. If they have sufficient force to beat us off, we’ll launch a hit and run operation instead, blasting their facilities as we withdraw.”

He shook his head. If Earth was any guide, there would be thousands of facilities that wouldn’t be detected unless they searched the system thoroughly. The cloudscoops, at least, were big obvious targets. Taking them out would cripple the system economy, although there was no way to know just how badly the system would be crippled. For all they knew, the aliens had vast hidden stockpiles of fuel or could simply ship it in from another system. If they’d known more about just how the alien society worked…

“We will proceed,” he concluded. “Does anyone have any issues they want to raise?”

Wang Lei leaned forward. “This system has five tramlines,” he said. “Do we have time to survey them, even a very brief general survey?”

“We will dispatch frigates once the planet is secure,” Ted said. The Chinese officer was right, he knew. They needed to know what was on the other side of the system’s tramlines. “And if there’s something there that might be a target of opportunity, we will take action.”

He looked from face to face, then back at the display. “We will pass through the tramline in ten minutes. Good luck to us all.”

The images vanished, one by one. Ted smiled to himself as the last one popped like a soap bubble, then settled down in his chair. The entire fleet was ready; he could feel it, an eagerness running through the entire formation. They wanted to get stuck into an enemy who had attacked humanity without provocation, then steadfastly refused all attempts at negotiation. And, in the end, they wanted to hurt the aliens as humanity had been hurt.

“Open a channel to the entire fleet,” he ordered, quietly.

Lopez worked her console for a long moment, then looked up at him. “Channel open, sir.”

“All hands, this is the Admiral,” Ted said. “In eight minutes, we will proceed through the tramline into the system we have designated Target One. We now know that the system is a formidable industrial base, one responsible for supporting the attack on human space. For once, we will carry the war into the very heart of alien territory.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully. “The aliens attacked us without provocation, as far as we can tell,” he said. “However, they have refrained from slaughtering civilians or depopulating entire planets. We will operate on the same principles. Alien cities will not be destroyed from orbit, alien civilians will be allowed to live; we will not commit any atrocities against their populations that could turn the whole war into an exercise in mutual slaughter. We will, in short, treat the aliens as we wish to be treated ourselves.

“There are countless military targets in the system,” he added. “We will destroy them, if we are unable to take them intact or hold the system permanently. There will be no shortage of industries vital to the alien war effort that we will tear out and destroy. But we will refrain from atrocities, from anything that could be construed as slaughter. We will follow the Rules of Engagement, we will give the aliens a chance to evacuate their facilities and save their lives. Anyone who uses excessive force or kills aliens without due cause will answer to me.

“I understand the urge to just hit back, to hurt the aliens as indiscriminately as they hurt us, but we will rise above it. We will hold out the prospect of ending the war on good terms, with respect to both sides, rather than endless slaughter. This will not feel as satisfactory as wanton destruction, but it will be far more effective in the long run.”

He smiled, knowing they couldn’t see him. “Today, we fight as a combined force,” he concluded. “Humanity’s hopes rest upon us. We will make them proud.”

James sucked in a breath as Ark Royal made transit, half-expecting to run straight into an ambush. Instead, nothing greeted them on the far side of the tramline, apart from a torrent of data from the frigates that was promptly fed into the display. The aliens, it seemed, had definitely been warned of the intruding fleet. Several starships had lit up their drives and were advancing towards the planet, while a number of civilian freighters — at least, the analysts assumed they were civilians — had gone dark. Clearly, they expected trouble.

“Impressive,” he muttered, as the feed from the drones appeared in front of him. Several of them were already plunging towards Target One, relying on the vast emptiness of space to conceal them from detection. “And alarming.”

The human race had feared an asteroid impact ever since discovering that one had played a significant role in exterminating the dinosaurs. It had made humanity very nervous about moving asteroids into orbit around Earth, even though it made economic sense to bring the raw materials as close to the industrial nodes as possible. The aliens, it seemed, didn’t share those concerns or maybe they’d just been in space for longer. There were at least a dozen large asteroids orbiting Target One, four of them definitely spinning habitats.

“Curious,” Farley said, out loud. “We know they have artificial gravity, so why do they bother spinning the asteroids?”

James shrugged. “Maybe they prefer to save on the gravity bill,” he said. Some of humanity’s independent asteroids charged tourists for everything from air and water to gravity. It probably explained, part of his mind noted, why Sin City was still the premier tourist trap in the Sol System. “Or maybe they predate artificial gravity and they can’t be bothered shutting down the spin.”

He put the thought out of his mind as more and more data flowed into the display. The alien world was heavily defended, assuming that some of the stations they were looking at were alien counterparts to humanity’s orbital platforms. Dozens of starfighters moved through space, patrolling the outer edges of the planet’s atmosphere, while four carriers and a dozen smaller ships gathered in high orbit. They knew about mass drivers now, he reminded himself coldly. The alien ships were moving in evasive patterns that would make it very difficult to hit them, at least at long range.

“Captain,” Admiral Smith said, as his image appeared in the display. “The planet remains our primary target, but we will attempt to take out or cripple the mobile forces first.”

“Understood,” James said. The planet was the ultimate target, but the mobile forces were a serious threat — and they couldn’t be replaced quickly, unless the aliens were vastly more capable than anyone suspected. Taking them out first would hamper the alien ability to respond to the arrival of the fleet. “Do we divide the fleet as planned?”

“Yes,” Admiral Smith said, shortly. “The Marines can wait here. If we succeed in taking the planet’s orbitals, they can move in and secure the surface.”

And if we die, they can beat a retreat, James thought. Would the aliens realise the Marine transports were missing? They’d almost certainly picked up the ships in the previous system, even if it had cost them a small fleet. The Marines will hate having to run.

“The Rhino won’t like that,” he said. He’d been impressed with the American’s record, even if he didn’t show the dignity James had been brought up to expect from senior officers. “He wants to take them at a run.”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Admiral Smith said. He smiled, rather dryly. “We will proceed as planned.”

James felt the tension rising sharply as the carrier slowly advanced towards the alien formation. More and more data flowed into the display, confirming their belief that the planet was densely populated; there were at least a hundred cities, all established along the coastlines. As before, the aliens didn’t seem to build anything in the hinterlands, apart from defensive stations. They hadn’t skimped on the defences of Target One.

“We’re assuming that those establishments are plasma cannon foundations,” Farley said, tiredly. “They’d be able to engage targets in high orbit, given the chance.”

“Then we’d better not give them the chance,” James said. He switched the display to focus on the alien fleet. They still seemed unaware of the human presence, although he had to keep reminding himself it could be an act. There was no way they were ignorant of human starships poking around near their system. “We can take them out at long range, if necessary.”

Ahead of them, the alien fleet grew clearer on the display as the drones passed through its formation, emitting nothing to betray their presence. Four carriers alone were a significant threat, James knew, and the presence of smaller alien ships with plasma guns would prevent him and his fleet from entering close range. But then, at close range, the aliens had the advantage. It was far better to stand off and hammer the aliens with long-range fighter strikes…

But at their speed, they can probably force us into a close engagement if they wish, he thought, grimly. Those ships are faster than ours.

“Twenty minutes to optimal range,” Farley reported. “They’re still showing no sign of being aware of our presence.”

“Good,” James said. He felt sweat trickling down his back as he leaned forward. “Tell the CAG that I want all fighters to launch as soon as the Admiral gives the word…”

The display flared with sudden red light. “Shit!”

“They pinged us, sir,” Lopez reported. “I think we stumbled across a passive warning platform; it just went active long enough to sweep us.”

Ted sucked in a breath. One of the frigates was already locking weapons on the platform, but the damage was done. Clearly, the aliens placed more faith in remote platforms than humanity… and he had to admit it had paid off for them. The fleet had been detected and the sweep had probably revealed everything the aliens wanted to know about its size and composition.

“Launch fighters,” he ordered. There was no point in sneaking around any longer. The aliens knew they were there. “All mass drivers are to commence firing.”

“Aye, sir,” Lopez said.

“Good,” Ted said. He settled back in his chair, trying to remain calm. At this range, the aliens would know they’d detected the human ships within seconds, at best. And then they’d react. But what would they do? “Launch a second set of drones towards the planet. I want to know just how they’re reacting to us.”

“Launch fighters,” Kurt said. “I say again, launch fighters!”

The rooks had done well, part of his mind noted, but being bloodied always helped pilots to overcome their last lingering issues. All six squadrons of starfighters streamed out of their launch tubes without any problems, then shook themselves down into formation without more than a handful of instructions from the Wing Commanders. Kurt felt a sudden stab of guilt as he thought of Rose, out there risking her life while he was safe in the Fighter Control Centre, then pushed it aside. If it had been up to him, he’d be out there too.

He turned his attention to the alien carriers and frowned. The aliens were launching fighters, but instead of angling out to attack the humans at once they were holding their ground and waiting. Waiting, he asked himself, for what? Were they weighing the odds of successfully defeating the humans or were they considering something else?

Or were they just bait in a trap?

The alien starfighters spread out, then opened fire on the mass driver projectiles as they flashed towards the alien fleet. They were alarmingly successful, Kurt noted absently; a handful of projectiles were missed, but none of them struck home. Perhaps the aliens had just decided not to waste their firepower on harmless projectiles. Behind the starfighters, however, the alien starships kept altering position. Clearly, they weren’t taking anything for granted.

“Kurt,” Admiral Smith said, as his image appeared in the display. “The starfighters are to take the offensive and engage the alien craft.”

“Aye, sir,” Kurt said. He tapped his console, issuing orders. “It feels good to have the advantage in numbers as well as surprise.”

“Yes,” the Admiral agreed. “But we shouldn’t get overconfident.”

“The aliens are pulling back,” Lopez reported. “They’re declining to engage us.”

Ted wasn’t too surprised. For once, humanity had a colossal advantage and he intended to use it ruthlessly. The aliens weren’t stupid. It would make far more sense, he knew, for them to pull back and escape, then watch from the edge of the star system or the next tramline for an opportunity to go back on the offensive. Pitting four carriers up against six was asking for trouble, particularly when humanity held several other advantages too.

But he had no intention of allowing the aliens a chance to escape. Four carriers… no one knew how many carriers the aliens had, but he was fairly sure that four carriers would be a significant chunk of their mobile firepower. Taking them out now, while he had a chance to engage with superior odds, would make it harder for the aliens to retake the system later. He couldn’t allow them to slip past without at least some attempt to take out their ships.

The aliens knew the problem as well as he did, he saw, as their starfighters assembled. There was nothing subtle about their formation, not now. They just wanted to intercept the humans and drive them away from the capital ships. Ted wondered, absently, if the aliens had figured out how to separate the bombers from the fighters, then decided it was unlikely to matter in the long run. The odds favoured the aliens when it came to shooting down incoming missiles.

“The mass drivers are to keep firing,” he added. They had no shortage of projectiles — and a few hours near an asteroid would provide all the additional ammunition they needed. “If we can keep the aliens concentrating on multiple threats, so much the better.”

On the display, the starfighters were rapidly closing in on the alien formation. Ted couldn’t help noticing that the rooks had improved enormously… carefully, his eyes sought out the icon marking Prince Henry’s starfighter. He muttered a curse under his breath as he realised that the Prince was going to be in the thick of the fighting once again, then dismissed the thought with some irritation. The Prince had wanted to be a true pilot. He’d managed to get his wish — and risk his life in the process.

We should all be that lucky, Ted thought, ruefully. From what Fitzwilliam had said, he rather liked Prince Henry. Not everyone gets what they want in life.

He was an aristocrat now; technically, he’d been one from the moment he’d been knighted. But it was different, he suspected, for someone born into the Royal Family. They rarely had a chance to do anything, let alone prove themselves. It was odd; on one hand, the aristocracy headhunted men and women who had proved themselves, while it tended to be less sanguine about letting its children prove themselves. Or was it just the Royal Family?

“Admiral,” Lopez said, “the orbital stations are launching starfighters.”

Ted nodded, pushing his thoughts aside and switching the display back to examine Target One. It looked as though the aliens had screwed up, but he knew better than to take that for granted. There were no real figures available on just how much endurance their starfighters possessed, yet everyone agreed they had more than human starfighters. It was quite possible that the aliens thought they could engage the human fleet from the rear while their carriers reversed course and attacked from the front. And they might be right.

“The CSP is to remain in place,” he ordered, softly. “If the aliens are trying to pincer us, we’ll soon know about it.”