“Maybe,” he said. “But we won’t be landing here, will we?”
“Probably not until after the war,” the Rhino said. His face twisted into a smile. “There’s little here to interest us.”
“What a waste,” Charles mused. There was so much unused land on the planet’s surface. A quick alliance between humans and aliens could have resulted in a shared world and perhaps even a shared culture. Or the aliens could have had the sea and the humans could have had the land. But instead both races were committed to war. “We could use this planet.”
The Rhino shrugged, expressively. “Do you remember all the worries people had after Eden?”
“No,” Charles said. There were times when the Rhino just grated on him. “I wasn't alive at the time. And nor were you.”
“The Corps remembers,” the Rhino said, unabashed. “Eden seemed perfect until they actually landed on the surface.”
Charles nodded. Eden had been discovered shortly after Terra Nova, before the dispute over settlement rights could get violent. The world had seemed perfect, but when the shuttles had landed they'd discovered that the planet’s biochemistry was completely incompatible with human crops. Everything they tried to get to take root in the soil died, without exception. It had worried humanity when the truth had finally leaked out; the scientists might be delighted, but Terra Nova was still the only habitable world humanity had discovered. War had threatened until several more habitable worlds had been located.
The Rhino sighed. “On average, how many star systems do we know that have an Earth-like world?”
“Twenty-two, not counting the alien worlds,” Charles said. “Thirty-one if you count the worlds we plan to terraform.”
“Precisely,” the Rhino said. “And out of how many stars?”
“One hundred and seven,” Charles said. “You think there are limits, don’t you?”
“Perhaps,” the Rhino said. “But if there are relatively few habitable worlds, and we are competing for the same ones, the war might have been inevitable in any case.”
“We could share,” Charles said.
“Would you be happy with alien spacecraft passing through the defences at all hours?” The Rhino asked. “We might not be able to share a planet without coming to some agreement over political power-sharing. Or mutual defence.”
He smiled. “And we can’t come to any agreements until they actually talk to us,” he added. “So we have to punch them in the face hard enough to get them to pay attention.”
***
“Captain,” Commander Keith Farley said, “I’m picking up two drive signatures, directly ahead of us.”
James muttered a curse under his breath as two red icons popped into existence on the display. “Are they looking for us?”
“I don’t think so,” Farley said. “We might well have picked them up first.”
“True,” James agreed. “Warn the Admiral, then prepare for evasive manoeuvres.”
There was a long pause. “Bring the fleet to a halt,” Admiral Smith ordered. “We want to remain as stealthy as possible.”
“All stop,” James ordered. “I say again, all stop.”
A dull quiver ran through the starship as she cut her drives, reducing her emissions to almost nothing as she continued onwards on a ballistic course. James braced himself as the alien craft picked up speed, one heading almost directly towards the fleet, the other heading back towards the inner system. If the first alien craft continued on its course, it would eventually pass right through the human fleet ...
He keyed his console. “Admiral,” he said. “Is this a wild coincidence or did they get a sniff of us when we passed through the tramline?”
“It shouldn't have been possible for them to know where we would emerge,” Admiral Smith said. “But if they did pick up on us, they might have started scattering pickets along the potential courses to the other tramline.”
Cold logic, James knew, suggested it was no coincidence. The aliens might follow the human practice of holding exercises in deep space, well away from prying eyes, but the odds against their exercise interacting with the fleet’s course were staggeringly high. It was much more likely that the aliens had picked them up, perhaps in the previous system, and covertly tracked the fleet while preparing a warm reception.
He ran through the tactical situation in his mind. Unless the alien craft had a new weapons system that was a complete game-changer, the fleet could destroy it easily. Ark Royal’s mass drivers would make mincemeat out of her. But did the aliens have reinforcements on the way? If they had a solid lock on the fleet, they’d definitely prefer to engage the humans well away from any planets that might become collateral damage. In their place, James would have done the same.
“Lock mass drivers on target,” Admiral Smith ordered. There was a long pause as he issued orders to the rest of the fleet. “I want them to see Ark Royal and Ark Royal alone.”
James blinked in surprise, then understood. The Old Lady was the only known ship capable of standing up to the aliens. If they hadn't managed to get a solid count of human starships, they might figure that Ark Royal was alone, or perhaps with only a handful of frigates as escort. There was no way to know if the deception was successful, but it might be worth the effort.
“Aye, sir,” he said. “Commander Farley?”
“Mass driver locked on target, sir,” Farley said.
James nodded. The alien craft was on a predicable course, which would probably change when – if – the aliens realised just what they were flying into. But, for the moment, she was a sitting duck.
“Fire,” James ordered.
There was nothing particularly clever about mass drivers, he knew, or anything particularly subtle. They were nothing more than chunks of rock accelerated to immensely high speeds and fired towards their targets on ballistic trajectories. If they were detected, it was easy to dodge or deflect them, which was at least partly why the weapons had gone out of fashion before the aliens had arrived. The other reason, James suspected, for keeping them sidelined simply no longer applied.
The alien icon vanished.
“Direct hit,” Farley said. “Target destroyed.”
“Good,” James said. Ark Royal might survive a single hit, but none of the other ships had a hope of avoiding destruction if they were hit with alien mass drivers. He was mildly surprised the enemy hadn't already started to deploy their own weapons. “Admiral?”
“Take us towards the tramline, best possible stealth speed,” Admiral Smith ordered. “The cat is firmly out of the bag now.”
“Yes, sir,” James agreed. Even if the alien craft hadn't really detected anything suspicious, even assuming that she hadn't managed to get off a distress signal, it wouldn't be long before the aliens realised that something was wrong. “Should we consider retreat?”
“No,” the Admiral said. “We can’t give the aliens time to fortify this approach route.”
James nodded, remembering the recovered data. There was only one more star system between the task force and her destination. The aliens would have to assume the worst and move quickly to reinforce their defences. If the mission was to succeed, they had to keep moving and hope they broke into the enemy system before it was too late.
“Understood,” he said. “Admiral ...”
He broke off as another alarm sounded. “Captain,” Farley said, “three more alien starships just came into detection range. One of them is very definitely a carrier. The other two appear to be battlecruisers.”
We were detected, James realised. There was no way this wasn't an ambush, if not a perfectly executed one. The aliens had managed to get very lucky. But when? And how much did they actually see?
“They must have only seen one or two of the carriers,” Admiral Smith mused. “Maybe they didn't see Ark Royal after all.”
“Yes, sir,” James agreed. One carrier was hardly enough to deal with the Old Lady, let alone five other carriers. Unless, of course, the aliens had something n
ew up their sleeves, something unanticipated. “Request permission to engage the enemy.”
“Granted,” Admiral Smith said. “Give them hell.”
James smiled. “Launch fighters,” he ordered. “Prepare to open fire.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Launch fighters! I say again, launch fighters!”
Henry had barely a moment to snap awake before the automated systems triggered, launching his fighter out of the tube and into open space. The inky darkness of space surrounded him, sending a tingle down his spine before he looked down at his display. Ahead of them, three large alien capital ships were heading towards the fleet, one of them very definitely a carrier already launching fighters. He shivered as he realised, to his horror, that this was real. For the first time in his life, he could die.
At least I’ll die as Charles Augustus, he thought, as the fighters fanned out. Alpha Squadron was on attack duty, followed by Beta and Gamma, while the remaining three were covering the carriers. Behind them, a stream of American fighters followed, escorting a wing of bombers. The aliens, for once, would be badly outnumbered.
“Cover the bombers as they engage,” the CAG ordered, as the aliens rapidly converged on the human fighters. “Don’t panic; remember your training and stay in formation.”
Henry flushed at the reminder, then keyed the switch to bring his weapons online. One pilot squawked in alarm as his plasma cannons refused to boot up, but Henry had no such problems ... at least for the moment. The briefings had warned them, several times, that the plasma cannons could overheat and explode, taking the starfighter with them. So far, the techs had no idea how the aliens had solved the problem of not blowing up when they overused their weapons. The pilots had privately joked that the aliens had pissed on them to keep the weapons cool.
The two forces closed with terrifying speed. One moment, the humans were safely apart from the aliens, the next the two forces were dogfighting through space. Henry threw his starfighter into a series of evasive ducks and dives, then fired on an alien craft as it came into view. He missed; the alien evaded his fire with a flip that seemed almost contemptuous, then fired back with a stream of plasma pulses of his own. Henry flipped his weapons to automatic fire – it seemed unmanly, somehow – and then concentrated on remaining alive and well. Behind him, a stream of alien fighters were rapidly converging on Ark Royal.
“Leave the CSP to cover the carrier,” the CAG reminded them. “Deal with the alien carrier.”
The alien CSP rose to meet them as the human fighters and bombers converged on the alien carrier. It wasn't that different from a human ship, Henry noted somewhat regretfully, remembering some of the starships from science-fiction movies. Giant metal cubes, bird-shaped starships, even squid-like ships ... instead, the alien ship could almost have passed for human, at least at a distance. But no one could have mistaken the drives or the endless rows of plasma cannons as anything but alien.
“Hit,” North shouted. “I got the bastard!”
Henry smiled, torn between pleasure and a sense of jealously. North would be insufferable in the barracks when they finally got home. A moment later, an alien starfighter fell into his weapons range and died before its pilot had a chance to realise he’d screwed up. Henry found himself staring at the display for a long moment, realising that he’d just taken his first life, then he pushed it aside – angrily – as they closed in on the alien ship. The carrier and its two escorts were frantically filling space with plasma fire, making it very difficult to enter attack range.
Or, rather, pre-war attack range, Henry thought. The aliens had shaped their weapons and tactics to take advantage of humanity’s weaknesses. Humanity had studied the results of the first battles and done the same. Now, we see just how well we worked.
“Lock weapons on target,” the bomber CO ordered. “Fire!”
Henry watched as each of the bombers launched two torpedoes, aimed directly towards the alien carrier. Between the British and American craft, there were over a hundred torpedoes closing in on their target. The aliens responded at once, plasma fire sweeping half of the torpedoes from space, but it was too late. One by one, the bomb-pumped lasers detonated,. Sending ravening beams of pure fury towards the alien craft. She might have been larger than Ark Royal, but her armour was much weaker. Moments after the first blast ripped into her hull, a series of explosions blew her into radioactive plasma.
“Scratch one flattop,” an American voice howled.
Henry joined in the cheers that ran through the communications network, feeling an odd sense of relief overcoming him. They’d faced the aliens and won ... but the moment of distraction almost killed him. Without their carrier, the alien starfighters had no hope of escape, so they turned on the humans with savage suicidal intensity. He picked off one of the aliens, then watched in horror as two human starfighters vanished in quick succession. Behind them, both of the alien battlecruisers were trying to retreat ...
***
Ted allowed himself a cold smile as the alien carrier exploded into a fireball, scattering debris through space. It was good to have the advantage for once, good to hand out a beating to a foe who clearly hadn't realised just how strong the task force actually was. Even given the alien technological advantages, sending one carrier up against six was suicide. But now the battlecruisers were starting to retreat ...
“Order the bombers to take out the battlecruisers,” Ted ordered. The alien ships were altering course randomly, clearly aware of the danger of human mass drivers. Ark Royal was firing anyway, launching streams of solid projectiles through space, but Ted wasn't hopeful. They were just too far from the alien ships to guarantee a hit. “I don't want them escaping to trouble us later.”
Lopez looked up from her console. “Sir, two-thirds of the bombers fired all their shots at the carrier.”
Ted scowled, but understood. Given the sheer effectiveness of the alien point defence – not to mention the certainty that their fighters would target the human bombers when they realised there was a very definite threat – throwing everything they had at the alien ship was the only reasonable course of action. But it had made it more likely that the two battlecruisers would escape. Their acceleration rate was far superior to anything humanity had, even the frigates.
“Order the ones that still have missiles to close and engage,” he said. “The remainder are to fall back and rearm.”
“Incoming fighters,” another lieutenant snapped. “They’re converging on us and Washington."
Ted opened his mouth to order the point defence to engage, then stopped himself. It was Captain Fitzwilliam’s job to fight his ship, not Ted’s. He couldn't allow himself to become distracted from the larger picture by trying to take command of the carrier. Besides, they couldn't allow a disagreement over who was in command during a battle.
Instead, he forced himself to watch as the bombers closed in on their targets.
***
“Incoming enemy fighters,” Farley reported. “They’re targeting us specifically.”
James nodded. The aliens should have learned, by now, that they couldn't damage the Old Lady’s hull with their plasma weapons, merely destroy her sensor blisters and weapons tubes by blasting them right off her hull. But it was a valid tactic, crippling the carrier ... and besides, they could also intercept her fighters as they returned to the barn.
“The point defence is to engage as soon as they enter range,” he ordered. So far, the battle had gone humanity’s way, but that might be about to change. A single solid strafing run on one of the other carriers would almost certainly blow her apart. “And warn the CAG to prepare to dispatch a squadron to support our allies.”
He braced himself as the aliens closed in, ducking and weaving as they came. They’d been surprised, he suspected, when they’d seen that humanity, too, had plasma weapons, but they’d definitely adapted quickly. Not, in the end, that it mattered. Four alien craft died rapidly before the others opened fire, blasting their shots right i
nto the carrier’s hull.
“Nineteen blisters destroyed,” Farley reported, grimly. “No internal damage.”
James narrowed his eyes. The aliens had to know Ark Royal by now; it wasn't as if she was identical to any other carrier in service. At the very least, they had to know they were facing a carrier of the same class as the Old Lady. And yet they were using a tactic they knew would fail. It made no sense. Surely, they'd do better if they fell on the other carriers ...
“Detail the CSP to force them back,” he said. Maybe it was a mistake, but he couldn't leave the aliens to get on with whatever the hell they were doing. Half of any surprise, Admiral Webster had said, was misinterpreting what one was seeing. “And then ...”
Ark Royal 2: The Nelson Touch Page 17
