“Open the hatch,” he ordered. “We’ll sweep through the hull from one side to the other.”
As soon as the hatch opened, he released the first set of nanotech drones. The tiny devices, utterly invisible to the naked eye, would sweep for alien intruders, perhaps even kill them if the aliens didn't have their own countermeasures. They chilled humanity to the bone, not without reason; it was quite likely the aliens felt the same way. He monitored their progress as he led the first platoon of men into the occupied section, watching for any sign of the aliens. But he saw nothing.
“Bodies,” one of his men muttered. “And the air is leaking faster now.”
Luke nodded as he quickly examined the bodies. It looked as though they'd been smashed against the bulkhead, probably when the bomb-pumped lasers had sliced into the Old Lady’s hull. There were no bullet wounds or plasma burns that might have suggested the aliens had killed them. Besides, none of the dead crewmen had drawn their personal weapons.
“They must not have managed to seal the hull,” Luke muttered back. Standard practice for a forced boarding, insofar as it existed, was to burn through the hull, rather than risk using an airlock. Normally, the hull would remain sealed afterwards by the presence of the boarding pods, but the aliens had used bomb-pumped lasers to open the way for them. Chances were that anything they’d done to seal the hull had been insufficient, particularly if the ship’s structural integrity had been weakened. “Keep your armour closed.”
He scowled inwardly as they slipped into the next compartment, then stopped as they saw motion ahead of them. Moments later, four crewmen – two wounded – staggered into view, holding their hands in the air. Luke smiled in relief – at least there was no need to secure the crewmen – and pointed them towards the guarded hatch, then checked the links to the nanotech. It should have picked up the human survivors, but it hadn't.
“I’ve got an unusually powerful ECM field ahead of us,” one of the techs said, after a long moment. “It’s pervading the hull, sir.”
“So we can't rely on the nanotech,” Luke muttered. He briefly considered calling the other ships and requesting support, but abandoned the idea after a moment’s contemplation. The United States Marines or the French Foreign Legion were good – he’d trained with them while the fleet was preparing to depart – yet they didn't know the interior of Ark Royal as well as his men. “See if you can get a list of crewmen with weapons experience, then round them up to reinforce us.”
Something moved ahead of them. This time, a bolt of plasma fire stabbed down towards their position, narrowly missing a Marine’s head. Luke switched his rifle to automatic and fired a long burst down the corridor, then followed it up with a grenade or two. The deck shook as the grenades detonated, then the Marines moved forwards rapidly, trying to get to the aliens before they recovered. But the aliens were clearly dead by the time the humans overran their position.
“Interesting,” Luke said. Their tactics were odd. Were they just trying to delay the Old Lady or did they have something else in mind. “I ...”
“Sir, this is Rigby at Five,” a voice snapped. “They’re breaking through the guardpost!”
Luke swore under his breath. The aliens were pushing towards the bridge ... but how did they know where it was? Ark Royal wasn't a modern carrier ... he cursed again as he understood just what had happened. The Old Lady was old enough that quite a lot of information about her was available freely. Given a cursory sweep, the aliens could have picked up enough about her from New Russia to plan their missile strikes perfectly. They’d certainly done well enough.
“Move a blocking force into play,” Luke ordered. “We’ll try to take them in the rear.”
***
Offhand, James couldn't recall any moment in living history when a Royal Navy starship had been boarded by enemy forces. Hell, the wet navy hadn't lost a ship to a boarding party since the end of the Age of Sail. But the aliens had managed to set foot on Ark Royal ...
“Commander Williams,” he said formally, “you will prepare to assume command of the ship if the bridge is compromised.”
“Yes, sir,” Amelia said. “And the Admiral?”
James hesitated. The CIC wasn't under threat yet, but the aliens would no doubt start to expand outwards once they’d taken the bridge. It was odd that they didn't seem to be making a charge towards Main Engineering, yet it was quite possible that the aliens had lost the assault teams that were supposed to take the compartment.
“Will move when the CIC comes under attack,” he said, firmly. “Continue to monitor internal security as long as possible.”
***
“The last enemy carrier is gone,” Lopez reported. “She was hit by a mass driver projectile.”
Ted smirked, despite the worry, fear and outright rage clawing at his heart. The aliens had been too busy evading his starfighters that they’d forgotten the other threat. Now, with all of Force One’s carriers either destroyed or badly damaged, Force One was falling back in disarray. But they still had intruders on Ark Royal.
And Force Two is still there, he thought, grimly. Still there and no doubt trying to decide what to do.
“Prepare the decoy drones,” he ordered. “I want them ready to launch the moment we are outside their sensor locks.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. Sweat was pouring down her face, but she’d never looked more beautiful. Whoever married her, Ted knew, would be a very lucky man. “We should be able to deploy in thirty minutes.”
“Good,” Ted said. “Launch a second set of recon probes towards Force Two. I want to know if they so much as blink.”
***
Luke felt sweat running down his back as he passed through Guardpost Five, without more than a moment to acknowledge three of his men who’d given their lives for the Old Lady. The Bootnecks were dead, their bodies raped by plasma fire ... angrily, he promised their ghosts revenge as he kept moving forward, drawn onwards by the sounds of plasma and automatic weapons fire directly ahead of him.
He paused as the alien position came into view. They weren't very good, he noted, but perhaps it wasn't too surprising. Their wars were probably fought below the waters, rather than on the surface; hell, maybe they found the surface world more than a little uncomfortable. He’d read the reports on the alien battlecruiser and, even though it hadn't been filled with water as some analysts had expected, it’s atmosphere was moist enough to cause real problems for the maintenance crews. The Old Lady’s atmosphere was far drier than anything in Britain, or even on Earth outside a desert.
“Fire,” he ordered.
The aliens barely noticed before the first rounds slammed into their bodies. Two of them spun around desperately and fired back towards the Marines; the remainder died where they stood, caught between two fires. Luke braced himself and ran forward as the sound of shooting faded away, checking the alien bodies one by one. Nothing, he told himself, could survive so many rounds through their most vulnerable sections. Still, he checked them anyway. There were quite a few animals who could soak up a great deal of damage and keep going, even without cybernetic modifications.
“I think we killed them,” one of his men said.
“Leave the bodies,” Luke ordered. They’d have to be removed by the ship’s crewmen, after careful precautions were taken to avoid any biological hazard. The scientists believed that there was no chance of an alien disease moving into a human host, but there was no point in taking chances. “We need to get back to their shuttles.”
He led the way back into the damaged section, keeping a careful eye out for any surviving aliens. But they found nothing until they reached the shuttles themselves, all of which seemed to be completely useless. Their drives and sensors had been reduced to dust by – he assumed – microscopic self-destruct systems. The aliens evidently hadn't wanted to take the risk of any more of their technology falling into human hands.
“We’ll sweep the section,” he said. In hindsight, the alien attack seemed odd, as if
they’d been experimenting rather than committing everything to the raid. There was something about it that didn't make sense. Had the aliens put it together in a hurry or was there something else they hadn't seen? “But it appears we got them all.”
“Good,” the Captain said. “But make sure you check everywhere an alien might be hiding, including the outer hull.”
“Yes, sir,” Luke said. He did have some experience, after all. But he couldn't blame the Captain for worrying. “It will be done.”
There was a click as someone else joined the conversation. “This is the Admiral,” a new voice said. “I want you to check for any other surprises the aliens might have left behind.”
“Understood,” Luke said. He scowled, inwardly. It wasn't going to be easy. The ship’s interior had been badly mangled by the lasers. Something out of place might well be missed completely. “We’ll start looking now, but we’ll need assistance.”
“I’ll detail crew to assist you,” the Captain said. He sounded grim, but resolved. At least he understood the problem, which was more than Luke expected from some senior officers, and wasn't bitching about needing to keep his crew to repair the ship. “Inform us the moment you find anything.”
“I’ll launch the alien craft into space,” Luke said. “I don’t think we’ll pull anything useful from them and we don't have time to take them apart.”
“Do so,” the Admiral said. “And good luck.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“We have lost sensor locks from the remains of Force One,” Lopez reported.
Ted sighed in relief. A careful search of the damaged section of the hull had found nothing, apart from dead bodies and plenty of destroyed systems, but he doubted it could be taken completely for granted. Civilians said the military was anal about making sure that everything was in order, yet it made it easier to spot anything out of place. Now, with the hull torn open and badly compromised, anything could have been left there in the wreckage.
“Deploy decoy drones,” he ordered, taking a long look at Force Two. Given the battering his forces had taken, he had few doubts that Force Two could finish them, if the aliens chose to leave their station and drive straight for the human fleet. But that would open up the risk of the humans managing to evade them and slipping back to the tramline. “And then recall all fighters.”
He looked down at the display as the fighters slowly returned to their motherships, then settled into the landing bays. There were over a hundred new radio sources where the alien starships had been, each one – he assumed – an alien lifepod. If there had been time to pick them up ... he shook his head, dismissing the thought. Even if there had been time, it would have been far too dangerous. The aliens might well attempt to resist recovery efforts.
“All fighters have returned to their ships,” Lopez said, after several minutes had passed. “I confirm we lost roughly a third of our fighters.”
Ted cursed under his breath. There were spare fighters in the fleet train’s holds, assuming they managed to link back up with the freighters they’d left in Target One, but there were few spare pilots. The CAG going out to fight might have been against regulations, yet it had been necessary; Ted only wished he had more trained pilots at his disposal. But the Royal Navy hadn’t been able to produce enough pilots in time. He made a mental note to raise the issue once again when they returned to Earth, or to invite crewmen to attempt to qualify on the simulators. It would be better than nothing.
“Understood,” he said. He paused, studying the display. “Prepare the ships for switchover ... now.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. There was a long silence as she worked her console. “All ships confirm readiness, sir.”
“Good,” Ted said. “Trigger the drones, then take us into darkness.”
He watched, grimly, as the drones moved ahead of the fleet. If they were lucky, alien long-range sensors would mistake the drones for the fleet, allowing the fleet itself to alter course and make a long dog-leg towards the system’s second tramline. And if they weren’t lucky ... Ted had few illusions. If the aliens detected them trying to race towards the second tramline, they’d either give chase or set up an ambush back in Target One.
“Drones underway,” Lopez confirmed. “They’re on the planned course.”
Ted nodded, hoping they’d struck the right balance between maintaining their distance from Tramline One without heading too obviously towards Tramline Two. It was logical, he knew, for his fleet to want to take the time for repairs, particularly now that Ark Royal herself was badly damaged. The aliens shouldn't see anything unusual in that, he hoped. They’d be more interested in waiting for reinforcements themselves before pushing the attack against the fleet home.
“Alter course,” he ordered. “We will proceed towards Tramline Two.”
Grimly, he looked down at the roster of missing or dead crewmen. Over three hundred crewmen were believed to the dead after the attack on Ark Royal, although only seventy bodies had been pulled from the damaged sections and shipped to the shuttlebay for emergency storage. The remainder might have been vaporised, tossed into space by the aliens or simply kidnapped. Ted had his doubts – the sensors hadn't recorded any alien shuttles leaving Ark Royal after they’d boarded her – but there was no way to be sure until all of the bodies were recovered. Some of them might only be identifiable through DNA testing.
He switched to the list of dead pilots and shook his head, grimly. Over a dozen pilots were dead, including seven of the bomber pilots, a testament to the sheer determination they’d shown in pressing their attacks against the alien fleet. The remainder would have to be reconfigured into brand new squadrons, once again, and then sent out to fight when they broke back into Target One. Ted winced at the thought, but he knew there was no alternative, not when there were over four thousand soldiers on the surface. He was damned if he was leaving them behind.
They might be able to take care of themselves, the treacherous part of his mind whispered.
Sure, a different part of his mind answered. Just like Target One was able to take care of itself.
“Course change complete,” Lopez said, breaking into his thoughts. “There are no signs we’ve been detected, as far as I can tell.”
Ted relaxed, slightly. There were five hours until they crossed the tramline, assuming the aliens didn't realise what they were doing and move to intercept. Anything could go wrong in that time, from drive failure to an accidental emission that revealed their location to watching passive sensors. He knew he wouldn't truly relax until they were through the tramline, yet he had absolutely no idea what was waiting for them in the next system. It was quite possible that the aliens had placed another blocking force there.
But that would be spreading their forces too thin, he told himself. If they’d had additional firepower, they should have added it to Force One.
He wished, again, that they knew more about the political and economical geography of alien-held space. There were star systems humanity had claimed that were heavily defended, with dozens of warships on hand to respond to any emergency, and star systems that were so isolated that it would take weeks to get a military squadron in place, if necessary. How quickly could the aliens reinforce the threatened sectors? There was no way to know.
“Keep me informed,” he ordered, as he rose to his feet. “I want to know the moment anything changes.”
***
“She served for over seventy years without getting as much as a scratch on her hull,” James said, sardonically. “I take command and she gets a hole punched through her armour and boarded, all in the same day.”
“Don’t worry,” Amelia said, dryly. “The blame will be strewn around liberally. If we’re lucky, it will be spread so thinly that no one will notice.”
James smiled weakly, then resumed his path through the damaged part of his ship. The engineers had rigged up sheets of armour to ensure that there was no longer any danger of decompression, but he had no illusions about how long the
y would stand up to alien weapons, if they returned to the attack. A single plasma bolt would burn through the replacement armour as easily as they burned through modern carriers and frigates.
“We need to move anything explosive out of their firing path,” he said, although he knew it was unlikely they could accomplish anything worth the effort. “They’ll be targeting the gash in the hull next.”
He shuddered at the thought. Plasma bolts weren't dangerous just because they burned through modern armour, they were dangerous because they destroyed or detonated everything they encountered. Post-battle analysis of the defeat at New Russia had confirmed that the plasma bolts had obliterated starfighter launching bays, missile storage depots and even fusion cores before the carriers had exploded. Even if they didn't hit something explosive enough to do real damage, they would still burn through countless systems and cause endless damage and disruption. Ark Royal had more internal armour than the rest of the Royal Navy put together, but it wasn't enough to deflect plasma bolts indefinitely.
Ark Royal 2: The Nelson Touch Page 32
