Chapter Thirty-Six

If she realised that something had happened after the XO had dragged her lover away, Lopez showed no sign of it as she stepped into the CIC and took her seat near the Admiral’s command chair. Indeed, she looked remarkably happy — and young. Ted felt a stab of envy, remembering when he’d been that young himself, and then put the thought out of his mind for the moment. The Prince could talk to her after they escaped Target One, when they would have several days to come to grips with the sudden change in their relationship. Until then, it could wait.

“The fleet has checked in, sir,” Lopez said. “They’re standing by.”

“Good,” Ted said. The damage had been repaired as best as possible, but he was grimly aware that there was a large gash in the Old Lady’s armour — and the other carriers weren’t heavily armoured in the first place. “Order War Hog to make transit.”

He leaned back in his command chair as the frigate vanished from the display. As far as they could tell, they hadn’t been tracked as they’d sneaked through the alien-occupied system, but the aliens had been alarmingly successful in tracking them before. The analysts had wondered if the aliens, with their far greater understanding of gravity, had a way of monitoring tramlines at a distance, although it seemed impossible. But then, so much else the aliens had shown to humanity had been deemed impossible.

If they had perfect sensors, like something out of science-fiction, they’d have hunted us down by now, Ted thought, coldly. They can’t be much more advanced over us.

War Hog has returned,” Lopez reported. “She’s detected hints that Target One is under siege.”

Ted nodded, relieved. If the aliens had successfully reasserted control over the high orbitals, they would have smashed the Rhino and his forces in short order. Hell, given how little use they made of the land surface, they could just have rained down projectiles at random, heedless of the damage they were doing. But if the planet was under siege, there was a chance to retrieve the groundpounders and escape before Force Two made its unwelcome reappearance.

“Take us through the tramline,” he ordered. “Best possible speed.”

“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. “Transit in five minutes.”

Ted waited as the display blanked out, then reformatted itself, displaying the familiar sight of Target One. He braced himself, half-expecting to encounter a welcoming committee even if the frigate had detected nothing, then settled back in his command chair as no enemy ships materialised. Data started to flow in from the handful of passive recon platforms they’d scattered across the solar system, but it was considerably out of date. At least the fleet train had survived without detection.

“Order them to remain where they are,” Ted ordered. By the time they received the message, the fleet would be halfway to Target One. “The Marine Transports are to prepare to pick up the soldiers as soon as we force our way into orbit.”

“Aye, sir,” Lopez said.

Ted nodded, hastily running through calculations in his mind. They’d have to take the shortest route to the planet, which shouldn’t be a problem as all indications suggested they hadn’t been detected. But once they reached the planet, the aliens would scream for Force Two to come to the rescue. By his calculations, they would have less than five hours to re-embark the troops… assuming that Force Two didn’t arrive before Ted’s ships entered orbit. There were too many variables for him to relax comfortably.

He caught himself looking at the back of Lopez’s head as she turned away from him, working her console with grim determination. The Prince was a lucky man, Ted decided, despite his accident of birth. Maybe they would be happy together… angrily, he dismissed the thought. There was no time to think about it, not when a battle was about to take place. Instead, he looked down at the reports from the other ships, wondering just how much creative editing had gone into some of them. If it had been up to him, the damaged ships would have been withdrawn to a shipyard.

But if you don’t get out of this system, he reminded himself, there’s no hope of ever returning to a shipyard.

The hours ticked by slowly. Ted occupied himself with studying the reports from the long-range probes as they neared the planet, picking up and reporting the presence of alien ships keeping their distance from the ground-based plasma weapons. There was an odd moment of Déjà Vu as he looked at their formation, something that puzzled him until he realised that it was the exact same formation his forces had used, after they’d battered their way into the system and attacked the planet’s defences. The aliens, it seemed, thought along similar lines to humanity. It made him wonder why they just couldn’t or wouldn’t talk.

“They haven’t cleared the space junk,” Lopez said, in some surprise. “It’s still in orbit.”

“There isn’t really time to clear it all,” Ted pointed out. “They’d need weeks to get most of it headed out of orbit or swept up into a mobile factory. As long as the bigger pieces are smashed they might not be immediately worried about the rest of it.”

He leaned back in his command chair as they neared the enemy fleet. Oddly, there were no carriers, merely seven frigate-sized craft and two battlecruisers. Ted smiled to himself; the aliens might have extremely good point defence, but without fighters of their own they’d have no real cover against his starfighters. They were about to get thoroughly smashed without even a chance to fight back.

“Launch starfighters at Point Trafalgar,” he ordered, keying the display. “The CSP is to cover the carriers; the remaining starfighters and bombers are to target the alien ships and take them out as rapidly as possible.”

“Understood,” the CAG said. “They’ll see us coming the moment we launch starfighters.”

“By then, it shouldn’t matter,” Ted said. He briefly considered trying to engage with mass drivers instead — it should be possible to aim at the alien craft without threatening the planet itself — then dismissed the thought. They’d need the mass drivers if — when — Force Two arrived in the system. “Launch starfighters at Point Trafalgar.”

He smiled to himself, tiredly. The aliens had hammered humanity in a curbstomp battle more than once. It was time to return the favour.

* * *

“Launch fighters,” a voice barked. “I say again; launch fighters!”

Kurt smiled to himself as he blasted out into the darkness of space, then glanced down at his display. Thankfully, everyone was following orders, despite the addition of foreign pilots to their squadrons. The CSP fell back to cover the carriers — the aliens would know they were there, now — while the bombers and the remaining starfighters advanced towards the alien ships. It became clear, very quickly, that the aliens hadn’t had the slightest idea the humans were anywhere near until it was far too late.

“They’re bringing up their drives and weapons,” the sensor tech noted. “But I think they’re having to flash-wake some of their systems.”

“Good,” Kurt said. He felt his lips draw back into a cold smile as he contemplated blowing his way through unprepared alien craft. “Unless it’s a trap, of course.”

The alien commanders clearly seemed to think that discretion was the better part of valour. As soon as their drives were online, they turned and started to head away from the planet, pouring on all the motive power they could muster. It would have allowed them to avoid engagement if they’d been facing human starships, but not when facing starfighters. No starship could match a starfighter for sheer rate of acceleration.

“Target the battlecruisers first,” Kurt ordered, as they closed in on the alien craft. Their point defence was already firing, although the odds were staggeringly against hitting any of the human craft at extreme range. On the other hand, it did make holding a steady formation almost impossible. “Aim for their drive sections.”

See if we can take another ship intact, he thought, coldly. He smiled, remembering how Molly had spent almost all of his share of the reward from the last battlecruiser they’d captured. It would definitely bring in more prize money.

“Locked on,” the bomber CO said. “Torpedoes away.”

As always, the enemy craft switched their point defence to target the torpedoes, giving the bombers a chance to break free. It wasn’t enough to swat down all of the missiles; five of them detonated, four targeted on a single ship. Riddled with laser beams, the alien craft staggered, then exploded violently. Her counterpart lost speed rapidly — her drive section must have been badly damaged, but not destroyed — and fell out of formation. It didn’t stop her from firing at the human starfighters as they regrouped and prepared for another attack.

“We could try to board her,” Rose suggested. “She’s the same class as the last ship we took.”

Kurt considered it for a long moment, then shook his head. “No,” he said, out loud. “We don’t have the deployable Marines to board her right now — and we couldn’t guarantee getting her home.”

The remaining alien frigates left their comrade behind as they raced for the tramline. Kurt wasn’t sure if he was looking at a display of contemptible cowardice or cold common sense, but it didn’t really matter. Ignoring the damaged battlecruiser — the mass drivers could pick her off — he led his squadrons after the other alien craft. Two American bomber squadrons and one Japanese squadron took out four of them, while the British and French killed the remaining three. Moments later, a mass driver shot from Ark Royal shattered the damaged alien battlecruiser.

“I’m picking up lifepods, sir,” Rose reported. “Do you want to detail a SAR team to pick them up?”

“Boot the question up to the Admiral,” Kurt said. “I don’t know if it’s worth the risk.”

He scowled. If they’d been fighting humans — at least one of the other interstellar powers — there would be a shared understanding of what to do with prisoners. No French or Russian crew, picked up from a lifepod, would try to fight as soon as they were bought onto a British ship or vice versa. Indeed, there was an agreement among such powers that POWs were to be treated well. But the aliens hadn’t signed any of the agreements. Who knew how they would react to seeing humans trying to take them captive?

Rose had a more practical question. “Can they survive long enough to reach the planet or be recovered by other aliens?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt confessed. “I just don’t know.”

* * *

Lopez turned to face Ted. “Admiral?”

Ted hesitated. They’d taken alien captives before, on Alien-1, but that had been on the ground. Too much could go wrong in space, starting with the aliens overloading their power cells rather than risk falling into human hands. But what sort of message would it send to the aliens if humans didn’t pick up their stranded personnel?

He looked down at the display. “Can they make it to the planet without assistance?”

There was a pause. “Unknown,” Lopez said, after checking the records. “Alien escape pods are not comparable to ours, it would seem.”

Ted ground his teeth. “Assign a pair of frigates to pick up the lifepods, one by one,” he said. “Once taken onboard, the aliens are to remain in custody until they can be transferred to the holding facility on Luna.” He briefly considered dropping the aliens on Target One, but knew it might be condemning them to death. “They are to be treated with respect, as far as reasonably possible.”

“Understood,” Lopez said.

Ted sighed, inwardly. It was another complication, one he didn’t want. But there was no choice.

“Establish a direct link with the Rhino,” he added. “I want to talk to him as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” Lopez said. “The starfighters and bombers are returning to the carriers now.”

Ted wondered, with a sudden moment of insight, if she’d been monitoring ‘Charles Augustus’ through her console. It would be quite easy, but it would also get her into very real trouble, just for allowing herself to become distracted. But it wasn’t something he could ask… sighing again, he made a mental note to check on it, then pushed the thought to the back of his mind. There were far too many other things to worry about right now.

* * *

“Good work,” the CAG said, as the pilots filed back into the ready room. “Not a single pilot lost.”

Henry nodded, relieved. The aliens had put up one hell of a wall of point defence, but the humans had kept their distance — and, as always, the aliens had switched to targeting the torpedoes as soon as they were launched. It had probably come very close to saving his life, more than once. He sighed as he took his seat and stared down at the deck, bitterly. Now he was no longer focused on keeping himself alive, he felt himself starting to think about Janelle again. What the hell was he going to tell her?

“Excuse me,” a voice said. Henry jerked upright to see the CAG just in front of him, his eyes dark with irritation. “Is there something, perchance, more interesting than me in the room?”

“No, sir,” Henry said. His thoughts might have wandered, but he knew the right answer. “I was just thinking…”

“Thinking isn’t doing,” the CAG snapped. “Which is fortunate, as otherwise we wouldn’t get any work done at all.”

He gave Henry another glare, then moved his attention to the rest of the pilots. Henry couldn’t help wondering if the CAG knew who he was and what he’d done with the Admiral’s Flag Lieutenant. But there was no way to know, not now, He knew he’d been very lucky that no one had noticed him being escorted to the Admiral’s office or there would be countless rumours sweeping through the ship. Hell, if the rumourmongers realised that he’d been sleeping with the Admiral’s Flag Lieutenant, they’d have some truly awful rumours to spread. And if that happened…

Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to concentrate on the CAG.

“You will remain in the ready room at all times,” the CAG said. “We expect the aliens to reinforce this system as quickly as possible. You will be responsible for covering our evacuation if the aliens arrived before we make our daring escape.”

Henry nodded in unison with the other pilots. It might have been aimed at him — non-pilots were not welcome in the ready room — or it might be nothing more than a wise precaution, but he couldn’t deny that it was a wise precaution. The aliens could hop through the tramline from Target Two anytime they liked.

“No sleep in the machines, this time,” the CAG added. “Take a nap here, if you feel you need it, but don’t leave this compartment. Or there will be murder done.”

He strode over to the corner and sat down, picking up a terminal and starting to flick through it listlessly. Henry eyed him for a long moment, then reached for a terminal of his own. He hadn’t bothered to write any letters to his family — there was too great a chance of them being intercepted — or a log of his own. How could he when he had no expectations of privacy? But he would have liked to write a note to Janelle… absently, he wondered if the Admiral had said anything to her. Did he care about her enough to try to protect her from harm?

It’s the duty of a senior officer — or an aristocrat, he remembered Duke Winchester saying, once. You must protect your subordinates, because loyalty is a two-edged sword. If you are not loyal to them, they will not be loyal to you.

He put the terminal down, cursing his life. If he wrote a message, it might be intercepted by the media; nothing, no matter how sensitive, was ever completely wiped from military datanets. The safest place to put a message, he’d been taught, was paper. Paper, at least, could be destroyed. But he didn’t dare write anything when his fellow pilots might see it.

I’m sorry, he thought, tiredly. I’m so sorry.

* * *

“It’s good to see you, Admiral,” the Rhino said. “We’re having a bit of a problem here.”

“So I see,” Ted said. He knew very little about fighting on the ground, but it looked alarmingly as though the aliens were winning. But then, they seemed to have infinite reinforcements within easy range. “I’ll enter orbit in five minutes. I suggest you start identifying targets for us.”

“Understood,” the Rhino said. “And thank you.”

Ted nodded, then looked over at Lopez as the connection broke. “Order the frigates to provide fire support to the forces on the ground,” he commanded. “Then call the transports and tell them to enter orbit and start recovering the troops…”

There was a bleep from the sensor console. “Sir, we just picked up a message from the recon platforms,” Lopez said. “A large force just entered the system from Target Two. Force composition matches Force Two, with a handful of additions.”

Ted gritted his teeth. The aliens had clearly managed to get off a message before they’d been wiped out. Their old trick of hiding a courier boat near the tramlines seemed to have paid off for them once again. And they’d ensured that he didn’t have time to evacuate the equipment along with the men on the ground.

“Understood,” he said. “Update the Rhino… and tell him they’d better hurry. We may have to leave very quickly.”

“Aye, sir,” Lopez said.

Ted took a long breath. An idea was starting to work its way through his mind…

…But would they have time to make it work?

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