Ark Royal 3: The Trafalgar Gambit

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Ark Royal 3: The Trafalgar Gambit Page 39

by Christopher Nuttall


  He studied the display for a long moment. The aliens might be in a hurry, but they weren't being too trusting. They had a CSP fanning out ahead of them, probing for trouble. It was quite likely they’d stumble across the waiting ambush before it was too late to save their fleet from instant annihilation.

  “Take aim,” he ordered. “If they stumble across us, fire without waiting for orders.”

  Farley swallowed, nervously “Aye, sir,” he said. “Weapons locked on target.”

  Ted understood. A twitch on Farley’s part could start the battle early, sacrificing the advantage they’d risked everything to build. He understood far too well.

  He keyed his console as the alien fleet grew closer, opening a channel to the entire ship. “All hands, this is the Admiral,” he said. “We are about to engage the enemy one final time. If we win, the war comes to an end. If we lose, the aliens will push past us and attack our homeworld. On us rests the fate of Earth – and all of humanity.”

  There was a pause as he struggled for words, then fell back on the classics.

  “Britain expects that every man will do his duty,” he said.

  He closed the channel. On the display, the alien ships were drawing closer and closer, their starfighters fanning out ahead of them. It wouldn't be long before they stumbled across the ambush and then all hell would break loose. But it had been long enough.

  “Fire,” he ordered.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Projectiles away, sir,” Farley said.

  “Launch starfighters,” Ted snapped. On the display, the alien carriers were starting to launch their own starfighters, despite being caught by surprise. “Launch missiles!”

  Ark Royal shivered again as she launched her first barrage of missiles. Ted had few illusions – only a handful of them would survive long enough to detonate – but one or two direct hits would finish any alien starship, apart from the enigmatic superdreadnaught. The craft was heavily armoured, of that he was sure. It simply didn't seem to have the speed of any of the other alien craft.

  “Starfighters launched, sir,” Farley reported. He swore, barely loudly enough for Ted to hear. “Enemy ships are launching missiles of their own.”

  They must have the reactions of a Marine, Ted thought, with cold amusement. They didn't know we were waiting in ambush, but they still had their starfighters ready to launch at a moment’s notice.

  “Direct hit,” Farley reported. “One of the alien carriers is gone, sir.”

  Ted nodded. On the display, one of the alien carriers had been shattered into debris by a direct hit. Another was dodging mass drive projectiles, but even its drive was unable to alter course radically enough to save it completely. A direct hit to the rear section smashed its drives and left it completely helpless. Ted was marginally impressed that the remainder of the starship remained intact, despite the damage. A final projectile slammed into the hulk and completed its destruction.

  “Target destroyed, sir,” Farley reported. There was a hint of heavy satisfaction in his voice. “Their starfighters are motherless now.”

  “Continue firing,” Ted ordered. The mass drivers were running out of ammunition at terrifying speed. There simply hadn't been time to find a suitable asteroid in the New Russia system and reload. “Target the remaining carrier and the superdreadnaught. Destroy them both.”

  The smaller alien ships picked up speed, advancing towards the Old Lady as they fired missiles towards the flotilla. Ted watched numbly as hundreds of missiles closed in on his ships, most of them picked off by the point defence or the CSP. But the priority – protecting Ark Royal – had a cost. Four missiles engaged HMS Blackburn and blew the escort carrier into flaming debris.

  “Blackburn is gone,” Farley reported. “No lifepods detected.”

  Ted nodded. He’d mourn later.

  “Continue firing,” he ordered. “Move Wart Hog into position to provide covering fire.”

  He scowled, inwardly. The attack on Earth had been gravely weakened by the loss of the carriers, but the aliens could still break through and use a frigate to attack the planet with a radioactive warhead. It was the old nightmare of terrorism on a planetary scale, one that had only grown worse as humanity expanded further into space. They’d hoped the aliens could be deterred from attacks aimed at genocide, but it was unlikely the War Faction gave a damn about their own people. All they wanted was the destruction of the human race.

  “Alien starfighters are closing in,” Farley reported. “Our own starfighters are moving to cover us.”

  “Stand by point defence,” Ted ordered. “Warn the CSP not to come within plasma range.”

  “Aye, sir,” Farley said.

  ***

  Henry wanted to cheer as two of the alien carriers died in quick succession, but there was no time. The bastards had managed to launch their starfighters quicker than the Old Lady could match, putting over two hundred starfighters into space before they’d been smashed by the mass drivers. Some of the alien craft would have to be pushed back into space, Henry was sure, because their remaining carrier wouldn't have space for them all. But it wouldn't matter.

  “Prepare to engage,” Rose said. She sounded firmer, much to his relief. “Remember; we have to kill at least four apiece.”

  She makes it sound easy, Henry thought. He was relieved, more than he cared to admit, that Janelle had been sent back to Earth. The aliens had them badly outnumbered, even though they’d lost their carriers. There was a very strong possibility that none of the human starfighter pilots would survive this day. But what else can we do?

  The alien starfighters flashed into range, firing madly the moment they had clear shots at the human craft. Henry jinked his starfighter to one side, then fired back, selecting automatic and allowing his targeting systems to do the firing for him as he concentrated on evading incoming fire. Space filled with plasma bolts as both sides converged, the aliens trying to blow their way through the human formation. But the CSP had a plan.

  “Bombers are in position,” Rose said. “On my mark ... mark!”

  Henry clutched his thrusters and pointed the starfighter away from the alien fighters. The remaining pilots followed, leaving the aliens with a clear path to Ark Royal. They’d be indecisive for a long moment, Henry was sure. Did they take the shot at the Old Lady or did they chase the human starfighters? Either one would expose them to human fire. And then the aliens made up their minds. Over a hundred starfighters hit their thrusters and roared towards Ark Royal.

  “Engage the alien carrier,” Rose ordered. “The Old Lady can take care of herself.”

  ***

  “Plasma weapons on standby, sir,” Farley reported, as the red icons descended on Ark Royal. “Targets locked ...”

  “Fire as soon as they come into range,” Ted ordered. “Don’t hold back.”

  The alien starfighters seemed to wobble as they realised just how many plasma cannons had been placed on the carrier’s hull. Even their carriers couldn't put out so much defensive firepower, not when an exploding cannon could do serious damage to its host. But the human engineers had just fixed the cannons to the hull; if they overloaded and exploded, they’d only scar the carrier’s armour. And the sheer weight of firepower they could pump out more than made up for any risk.

  Ted smirked, remembering the first time the Royal Navy – and their allies – had tried to attack an alien carrier. They’d been unprepared for plasma weapons back then and the results had been disastrous. Now ...

  Payback’s a bitch, he thought, as dozens of alien starfighters exploded as they tried to weave their way through the hail of fire. A handful of plasma cannons were lost as their containment chambers exploded, but the remainder just kept firing. He couldn't help wondering what it would mean for the long-term development of space warfare technology, assuming they survived the war. Had the starfighter had its day?

  A handful of very skilled alien starfighters made it through the point defence and engaged the Old Lady directly,
firing plasma weapons into the weapons and sensor blisters covering her hull. Ted had to admire their nerve as they tried to avoid his point defence, while doing their best to cripple the Old Lady and leave her a blind defenceless wreck. One by one, they died, but they did real damage. If they lost more sensors, he noted, targeting their weapons would become impossible.

  “Launch our remaining probe,” he ordered. “Set it up as a secondary sensor platform, ready to take over if necessary.”

  It wouldn't work well, he knew, even though active sensors were hardly necessary now that both sides had abandoned stealth. The probe didn't have the sensor capacity of a full-sized carrier, even the ancient Ark Royal. But it might be all they had, if the aliens kept pounding on the hull. It looked very much as though the remaining starfighters were nerving themselves up for another round.

  “Admiral,” Farley said. “We’re running out of mass driver projectiles.”

  Ted muttered a curse under his breath. The aliens had proved alarmingly effective at blocking or destroying the projectiles, now they knew they were under attack. Both of the targeted starships were still intact ... and closing in on Ark Royal. He didn't want to know what the superdreadnaught used for weapons, but he had the alarming sense they were about to find out. It had launched missiles, he knew, yet he doubted they were all the craft carried.

  “Continue firing,” he ordered. Was there any point in trying to convert scrap metal into projectiles? It was worth a try. “Then have engineering start shoving pieces of scrap into the factory. Tear out anything that isn't absolutely essential.”

  Farley smirked. “Including the kitchen sink, sir?”

  Ted had to smile. “Yes,” he said. “Everything.”

  And then the carrier rocked violently.

  ***

  The alien carrier wasn't that different from a modern Royal Navy carrier, Henry noted, as the starfighters closed in on their target. She was a long cylinder, with six smaller cylinders surrounding her, each one capable of launching and recovering two squadrons of starfighters or other small craft. The aliens didn't seem to draw any line between fighters and bombers – the Royal Navy had cut down on bombers after developing its own plasma weapons systems – which gave them a flexibility Henry was inclined to envy. But it was also a weakness.

  He sucked in his breath as the alien CSP moved to engage, firing as they came. The aliens seemed frantic to keep the humans away from their carrier, which made sense. If they lost the remaining carrier, they’d be unable to recover their starfighters, condemning their pilots to die in the inky darkness of space. Henry felt a moment of ... guilt – he’d almost died in space – then issued his orders. The human starfighters broke and attacked. One alien starfighter exploded under his fire, another slipped away and rolled, then came back towards him at terrifying speed. Henry had bare seconds to evade before it was too late.

  “I can't shake this guy,” one of the newer pilots said. “Some help, here?”

  Henry nodded, then swooped after the alien pilot. He was good, he noted, but not good enough to chase one human while evading another. Henry would probably have broken off if someone had tried to attack him like that, yet the alien pilot hesitated a fraction of a second too long. A direct hit blew his craft into vapour; Henry spun away, then turned just in time to see the bombers make their attack on the carrier. Four bombers died as enemy point defence opened fire; the remainder evaded and launched their missiles, then spun away as the aliens started focusing their attacks on the missiles. Nine missiles died, the remaining two detonated and stabbed beams of deadly light into the alien carrier.

  “Aw,” Rose said. “She survived.”

  Henry was marginally impressed. The aliens obviously hadn't had time to coat the ship in any form of heavy armour, certainly nothing comparable to Ark Royal’s solid state protection, but they had managed to add some additional shielding that had improved her chances of surviving a direct hit. One of her launching tubes was gone, along with some of her interior, yet she could still fly and fight.

  Rose cleared her throat. “Bombers return for replenishment,” she ordered. “Fighters ... attack.”

  The alien starfighters grew more desperate as the human starfighters closed in on their target, one of them even resorting to ramming a human craft in a savage attempt to force it away from the carrier. But it wasn't enough. Henry pressed down on the firing stud as the enemy carrier came into range, sending bolts of superhot plasma burning through her hull and into her vulnerable interior. The other pilots followed, knowing it was only a matter of time before they blew the carrier apart. Behind them, the alien starfighters followed, firing constantly. Two human starfighters died before the alien carrier started to die.

  “Break off,” Henry snapped, as he saw the first explosion. Several alien craft had died in the Battle of New Russia, when the aliens had introduced humanity to plasma weapons for the first time, as the human carriers had died under their fire. “All ships, break off!”

  He yanked his starfighter away from the carrier just in time. A series of explosions tore the ship apart, sending pieces of debris scattering through space. Henry grinned, despite himself, as he saw the alien starfighters suddenly hesitate. Had they had second thoughts, he wondered, now that their mothership was gone. It was a little too late to save their lives, he suspected. They could have tried to surrender, but Ark Royal was in no state to recover alien starfighters.

  “Scratch one flattop,” Rose said. “I say again, scratch one flattop.”

  She paused. “Target the superdreadnaught,” she added. “And the frigates.”

  “Understood, Commander,” Henry said. He cursed as he saw one of the frigates the aliens had configured as an anti-starfighter craft hove into view. There was no point in trying to engage her, not when she could put out more plasma firepower than Ark Royal herself. “On my way.”

  ***

  “Direct hit, lower decks,” Anderson reported. “They targeted the weakened sections of the hull.”

  Ted nodded, unsurprised. The aliens had managed to slip at least one missile close enough to detonate – and they’d already had a good idea where to aim. Thankfully, they’d stripped as much as they could out of the damaged section, but the aliens had burned through the armour and damaged other parts of the ship. It wasn't a good sign.

  “Get the damage control parties to work,” he ordered. There would be no time to do anything more than patch up the holes, but it had to be done. “Cover them as best as you can.”

  He turned his attention back to the main display, just in time to see the alien carrier become a ball of flaming plasma. Many of her starfighters had survived, but their days were now numbered, unless they could land on the superdreadnaught and replenish there. Ted glanced at the constantly updating reports from the analysts and noted they didn't seem to have concluded the superdreadnaught could carry fighters. It certainly hadn't launched them ...

  So why did they build you? Ted asked, silently. You’re a big target – and you would be dead by now, if we had more projectiles. We didn't build battleships because we knew they were nothing more than easy victims if the enemy used mass drivers. So what were they thinking when they built you?

  “Enemy starfighters are returning to the attack,” Farley reported, breaking into Ted’s thoughts. “Their frigates are following ... and launching additional missiles.”

  “Clever of them,” Ted said. It was; the missiles could do real damage, thus the point defence had to be retargeted on the incoming missiles. But that gave the starfighters a chance to get close and attack the point defence directly, which would cripple the Old Lady’s chances of responding to further missile attacks. And the network had already lost several cannons to overloading containment chambers. “Target the missiles, then recall our own starfighters. We’re going to need them.”

  “Aye, sir,” Farley said.

  Ted nodded, then surveyed the situation. Any halfway rational foe would be breaking off by now, but the War Faction had
burned its bridges when it had defied the other alien factions and tried to restart the war. They had nowhere to go; they had to complete their objective of destroying Earth or die trying. And they also wanted to destroy Ark Royal. If they’d been human, they might have thought of the carrier as lucky, just like so many other ships named Ark Royal throughout the years. They’d throw everything at the carrier in hopes of smashing her, once and for all.

  “Alien craft are launching shuttles,” Farley added. “And breeching pods.”

  Ted blinked in shock. They’re trying to board us?

  “Warn the Marines,” he ordered. They’d already donned their armour, thankfully, but they’d been reassigned to the damage control teams. “Tell them to prepare to repel boarders.”

 

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