“Back into the fire,” he muttered. “But we’ve been in tight spots before.”
Amelia gave him a sharp look. “Anything as bad as this, sir?”
James smiled. “Last time, it was just us facing a bad-tempered alien battlecruiser,” he said. “This time ...”
“We’re facing an entire war fleet,” Amelia pointed out. “I think it’s a little different.”
“No, it isn't,” James said. “This time, we have a fleet of our own – and we know we can give them a damn good kicking, even if we lose. So ...”
He smiled, again. “So we know the aliens will remember us, no matter what happens,” he added. “And we will make it home.”
Amelia nodded, once.
James understood her worries. It was a tight spot, but he had faith in Admiral Smith. A man who could overcome his demons, climb out of the bottle and come up with a tactic for giving the aliens a very nasty surprise was clearly someone to reckon with. And to think that Uncle Winchester had nagged James to marry! Someone ought to be trying to marry Admiral Smith to a suitably aristocratic girl before he was too old to sire children. There was no shortage of girls who might accept a man with such a distinguished war record, even if his pre-war career had been ... odd, to say the least.
He frowned as he remembered the Prince and his ... affair with the Admiral’s Flag Lieutenant. It would be unpleasant if it became public, no matter what everyone involved happened to think of it – and there would be some very nasty insinuations made by the media and just about everyone else. But James suspected the Prince hadn't meant anything bad, not really. Like the younger James himself, he had been more of a thoughtless fool than indulging in deliberate malice. And yet that would be no consolation when it exploded in his face.
Amelia leaned over. “Captain?”
“I was distracted for a moment,” James said. Amelia worried about the effects of the Prince’s affair on her career, which was understandable. James could be demoted or dismissed, but he couldn't be stripped of his title. Amelia, on the other hand, could lose everything. In theory, there was no blame to attach to anyone, as no regulations had been broken. But in practice, James knew, the world was rarely fair. “But I won’t be distracted any longer.”
He settled back in his chair as the fleet prepared to leave orbit, checking through the reports from the damaged parts of the ship. Anderson had cleared everything as much as possible, including rerouting everything from power conduits to datanet nodes, but James had no illusions. The designers might have included a great deal of interior armour, back when everyone had expected to face nukes on a regular basis, yet it wasn't enough to stand up to a major internal explosion. A single nuke, detonating inside the ship, would blow the Old Lady into atoms.
“The Admiral has signalled the fleet to depart,” Lightbridge said. “With your permission?”
“Granted,” James said. “And prepare to execute the mine-laying operation on the Admiral’s command.”
He looked up sharply as another alert sounded on the console. “Captain,” Farley reported, “a second alien fleet has just entered the system.”
“Understood,” James said, as new icons appeared on the display, each one representing the rough location of an alien ship. Thankfully, they were far out of engagement range for the moment. The time-delay wouldn't matter too much. “Keep me informed of their movements.”
He nodded to Amelia. “Maybe this is the worst tight spot after all.”
***
“Designate this third fleet as Force Three,” Ted ordered, keeping his voice under tight control. “Do we have a breakdown on its composition?”
“Four carriers, seventeen frigates,” Lopez said, after a long moment. “There may be others, but they didn't pass close enough to the recon platforms to be detected.”
Ted nodded, grimly. On its own, Force Three could have been handled, but with Force Two also in the system there was a very real risk of being caught between two fires. They were committed to a close engagement with Force Two while Force Three came up behind them and stuck a knife in their backs. It wouldn't be an easy matter to evade both of the fleets ...
“Keep us moving towards Force Two,” he ordered. They’d have to try to beat Force Two before Force Three caught up with them. “Are the mine preparations completed?”
“Yes, sir,” Lopez said. “But they may see the trick coming.”
“Yes, they might,” Ted agreed. “But I don’t see any other way to even the odds.”
He forced himself to relax as the fleet picked up speed, advancing on Force Two. The aliens didn't seem inclined to get out of their way, which made sense, or launch their starfighters. Like Ted himself, the alien commander seemed to want to wait to launch until the last possible moment ... something that irked him, because it suggested they were facing a capable commander. But any armchair general could have picked that tactic up from reading a book.
Shaking his head, he looked over at Lopez. “Time to Point Normandy?”
“Fifty minutes,” Lopez said. “Assuming, sir, that the enemy fleet doesn't change position.”
Ted doubted the aliens would move at all. They had the human fleet right where they wanted it; they wouldn't want to alter course before they had a chance to close their trap. Indeed, Ted suspected the only thing that would make them change position was his own course changes ... and only insofar as they could keep themselves between humanity and the tramline. But he needed them to stay right where they were.
“Let us hope it won’t,” he said. He briefly considered touring the ship – he'd done it before on the eve of battle – but it would be irresponsible to leave his post with two enemy fleets breathing down their necks. “All we can do now is wait – and pray.”
***
“This is the situation,” Kurt said, glaring down at his pilots. They looked back, their faces grim. Even the least experienced of them had seen enough war now to be thoroughly sick of battle. “One enemy force is blocking our way out of this cursed system; another is coming up behind us, intending to bugger us with a rusty chainsaw. This is a sticky situation.”
He paused, then continued. “The Admiral has a plan to cripple Force Two,” he continued. “However, in order to implement that plan, we have to do something that will slow us down, giving Force Three a chance to catch up with us. We may smash one fleet only to be smashed in turn by the other. I don’t have to tell you, I suspect, that that would be very bad.”
“No, sir,” Rose called out. “No one likes being buggered with a rusty chainsaw, sir. It’s in strict defiance of Royal Navy tradition. Unless, of course, they’re overcompensating for something.”
There were some chuckles from the pilots, most of whom looked better after Rose had cracked her terrible joke. Kurt smiled, inwardly. Most of the young men and women in front of him were about to die – the discrepancy between the alien forces and his own would make sure of it – but at least they’d die with smiles on their faces.
“As soon as the Admiral’s surprise hits them, we will launch,” Kurt continued. “And then we will hammer them so badly they’ll be blown right into the next system. Aim your torpedoes carefully, watch your flanks and don’t let them slip past you. Whatever happens now will depend on you.”
He took a long breath. “To your planes, ladies and gentlemen,” he concluded, quietly. He couldn't help wondering how many of them were going to be looking at him after the battle – and how many of them would die. “See you on the far side.”
***
“The alien craft are entering deployment range,” Lopez said. “The mines are ready to deploy.”
“Deploy them,” Ted ordered. “And warn the crews to be careful.”
He watched, grimly, as mine after mine was launched into space. Unlike the previous deployment, these mines would continue to follow the same ballistic trajectory as the fleet itself, heading right towards the alien craft. After a long moment, when all of the mines were in space, Ted issued the next order.
“All stop,” he commanded. “I say again, all stop.”
Ark Royal quivered violently as her drives went into reverse, cancelling the massive starship’s velocity. One by one, the fleet slowed to a halt, relative to the alien ships, but the mines kept gliding forwards. Ted braced himself, expecting the aliens to notice the trick and take countermeasures, but they did nothing. Perhaps they thought that Ted hadn't noticed Force Three until now ... or perhaps they thought he'd been trying to force them to move and only just realised that he’d failed. There was no way to know.
“Mines entering attack range in thirty seconds,” Lopez reported. “They’re drawing on our active sensors, sir, rather than using their own.”
Ted nodded. One advantage of too-powerful active sensors – they dated back to the time Ark Royal was designed and built – was that they lit up their targets for everyone to see. The mines didn't need active of their own, not as long as their mothership was close by so they could use their passive sensors to monitor her emissions. And it helped ensure they weren’t detected.
“Force Three is picking up speed,” Lopez reported. “She wants to catch us now, I think.”
“Too late,” Ted said. On the display, the mines had started to detonate. He’d picked their targets with a calculated ruthlessness that had surprised him, despite knowing what was at stake. “Far too late.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Five carriers gone, sir,” Lopez reported. “One more badly damaged.”
“Launch fighters,” Ted snarled. “All batteries commence firing!”
He watched, grimly, as Force Two withered under his fire, then started to launch its remaining fighters. The aliens seemed stunned, but they were already collecting themselves – and, behind the humans, Force Three was catching up. Losing so much speed so rapidly opened the serious risk of being taken from behind.
“Resume course and speed,” Ted ordered, as the starfighters lanced out ahead of his ships. “I want us to pass through the tramline as soon as possible.”
***
Kurt barely managed to prevent himself from crying out in delight as he saw just how much damage the alien fleet had taken; the rooks were much less restrained. A force that might have been able to stop the humans directly had been crippled, badly enough to give the human fleet a fighting chance. He smiled to himself as he led the starfighters and bombers towards the alien ships, which were starting to scatter. Their fighters were hastily organising themselves into a formation to cover the retreat.
“We can’t just concentrate on the carriers this time,” Kurt said. At close range, the alien frigates and battlecruisers were just as dangerous as the carriers and their starfighters. “I’m designating targets now. Take them all out as quickly as possible.”
He braced himself as an alien starfighter swooped down on him, then fired off a stream of plasma as he took evasive manoeuvres. Even facing overwhelming odds, the aliens held the line and tried to beat the humans off, while others slipped past the human starfighters and roared towards the human starships. Kurt wondered, in a sudden moment of insight, if the aliens had a far larger fleet of carriers than humanity. They’d certainly been less concerned about losing carriers than the human race.
“Gamma, cover the bombers,” he ordered, as the bombers closed in on their targets. Alerts flared up in his HUD as several mass driver projectiles shot past, aimed at the alien frigates. Only one struck home, but it smashed its target into rubble. The remainder were either blasted into dust by the aliens or simply missed their targets. “Everyone else, focus on keeping the alien starfighters busy.”
The alien frigate loomed up in front of him on the display, firing endless streams of plasma towards the human fighters. Kurt saw two of his fighters vanish in quick succession, followed by an American bomber that was struck moments before it could launch its torpedoes, then the fire drained away as the remaining bombers opened fire. The alien frigate managed to shoot down all, but one of the torpedoes. But one was enough to destroy the ship.
“Target destroyed,” a Japanese-accented voice said. “I say again, target destroyed.”
“Good shooting,” Kurt said. “Now let’s do it again.”
***
“Incoming starfighters,” Farley warned. “They’re targeting us and Napoleon.”
“Lock point defence on incoming craft; fire at will,” James ordered. “I say again, fire at will.”
He braced himself as the alien starfighters swooped down on Ark Royal, shooting continous streams of plasma towards her hull. As always, sensor blisters and weapons mounts were destroyed, but this time their fire raged towards the weakened section of the hull. James sucked in his breath as the aliens closed in, then smiled in relief as four alien starfighters were picked off by the point defence before they had a chance to start shooting through the gap in the carrier’s armour. Anderson had been right, he noted; placing the makeshift point defence weapons near the damaged section had lured the enemy right into the teeth of their guns.
But it wouldn't be enough if the aliens continued their assault. A dull thump ran through the ship as an alien fighter slammed into the hull, scratching her armour quite badly. Thankfully, there was no major damage, but if more aliens resorted to suicide tactics the carrier might be in real trouble. James smirked at the thought, rolling his eyes at the absurdity. They were in real trouble already.
“We’ve lost multiple sensor blisters,” Anderson muttered, through the communications link. “If this goes on ...”
“Inform the Admiral,” James ordered. If Ark Royal lost the ability to see what was happening around her, the Admiral would no longer be able to coordinate the fleet. Admiral Shallcross would have to assume command at short notice. But if the aliens realised that the fleet’s Deputy Commander was on a far more vulnerable carrier ...
He pushed the thought aside. “Scramble damage control teams,” he ordered, as the CSP chased the aliens away. “We will continue firing as long as possible.”
***
Ted watched the battle, powerless to affect its outcome any longer. The starfighters and bombers, combined with long-range mass driver fire, had smashed Force Two, although its remaining starships were fighting to get into plasma weapons range. At least the aliens didn't seem to have devised any long-range weapons, thankfully. But then, long-range missiles could be picked off with ease.
“Warn the fighters not to let those frigates enter plasma range,” he ordered. “And keep the CSP on alert.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. She paused. “The alien starfighters are targeting Napoleon.”
Ted scowled down at the display. Did they think that Ark Royal was still a tough target or did they think they’d already crippled her and intended to cripple or destroy the other carriers? It didn't matter, he told himself a moment later. All that mattered was protecting the carriers as long as possible.
“Order the CSP to cut loose a squadron to assist the French,” he ordered. “We need to drive the aliens away from the carriers ...”
But the aliens, furious or desperate, weren't going to back off so easily. Ted watched, grimly, as alien starfighter after alien starfighter lanced down towards the French carrier, firing into her hull with cold precision. Unlike Ark Royal, the French carrier’s armour was insufficient to stand up to the blasts; it was sheer dumb luck the aliens hadn't already managed to destroy her. As Ted watched, a line of explosions shattered the carrier’s landing bay, crippling her ability to recover starfighters.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Raise Captain ...”
Napoleon exploded. Ted watched in growing horror as a series of explosions ripped the carrier apart, scattering pieces of debris through space. There were no sign of any lifepods; the French hadn't had time to abandon ship, even when they’d realised there was no hope of preserving their vessel any longer. Ted shuddered – three thousand French crew had been killed in a matter of seconds – and then forced himself to look away. There was no time to mourn the dead.
>
“We keep moving,” he ordered, harshly. If there was any advantage to the whole sorry incident, it was that a number of alien starfighters had been caught in the blast and obliterated. “We will not let their sacrifice go to waste.”
He looked down at the display, silently calculating vectors. Force Two had been effectively destroyed, now; there was nothing blocking their escape through the tramline, once they reached it. But Force Three was launching starfighters, ready to press the offensive. And if he sent his own starfighters to engage Force Three, he risked being unable to recall them in time to make the jump. Nothing smaller than a frigate, at least nothing built with human technology, could jump through a tramline.
“The remaining starfighters are to join the CSP,” he ordered. Recovering starfighters while under fire was one of the hardest operations in the book. They’d have to bring the starfighters in to the hull and then jump through the tramline, leaving mines behind to discourage the aliens from following immediately. “And War Hog is to move ahead and make transit.”
Ark Royal 2: The Nelson Touch Page 38
