Lopez looked over at him, alarmed. She hadn't considered the possibility of the aliens setting an ambush on the far side of the tramline. Unlike most jumps, their arrival point would be easy to predict. Admittedly, the aliens seemed to believe in the KISS principle as much as their human enemies, but how many other chances would they get to catch a human fleet off-guard, disorientated by the jump? But would they have had a chance to mass a fleet in place to catch them?
“Aye, sir,” she said, finally. She worked her console for a long moment. “The frigate is moving ahead of the fleet now, sir.”
Ted nodded. For a few moments, they had a chance to catch their breath ... but it wouldn't last. The incoming starfighters would be on them in five minutes, perhaps less. They’d bore straight through the starfighters and go for the carriers, knowing they’d never have a better chance to inflict crippling losses. And if they succeeded .... Ted winced, bitterly. He’d started the operation with six fleet carriers, starships humanity could ill-afford to lose. Now, two of them were gone and the remainder had all taken damage. Win or lose, the operation had proved immensely costly.
“Inform me the moment she returns,” he said. He tried to formulate a contingency plan for the frigate not returning, but came up with nothing. They’d have no choice; they’d have to turn about and fight to the bitter end. “And get me a complete damage report from the rest of the fleet.”
***
“Form up in squadrons,” the CAG ordered. “Alpha and Beta will engage the enemy at the outer edge; the remainder will cover the carriers themselves.”
Henry nodded. The few moments of peace had been a blessing, just long enough for the starfighter pilots to reconfigure their squadrons and get back into formation. There was no longer any real barriers between British, French, American and Japanese pilots; now, they were fighting as a single unit, with pilots flying beside whoever was closest to them. The French pilots, in particular, were in an evil mood. They’d lost their carrier, their commanding officer and their friends in a handful of seconds. Now, they wanted revenge.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to remember the last time a British Prince – or King – had died on the field of battle. He’d thrilled to stories of his ancestors leading their troops into battle, in days when war was the ultimate test of a king’s character and fitness to rule their country, but it was relatively rare for them to actually die. Once, he’d thought it was because they were brave and fearless; now, he knew that there had simply been fewer kings than commoners in human history. Besides, the other side had rarely deliberately killed the king. It was considered unwise to let the commoners see aristocrats die. They might have picked up a few ideas.
Silently, he cursed himself for not having had a chance to leave a note for Janelle. He hadn't even had time to update his will, although that was a moot point for him. ‘Charles Augustus’ owned nothing – he didn't exist, after all – while most of Henry’s possessions belonged to the monarchy, rather than him personally. His fellows had scoffed when he’d purchased a handful of books and a personal terminal for himself with his first paycheck, but in truth they were the first things he’d ever owned himself. Everything else was merely a loan.
But Janelle deserved better than a note.
If I get out of this, he promised himself, I will tell her everything.
The Admiral was right, he knew. By screwing her, he’d screwed her life. If she decided she wanted to have nothing more to do with him, he would respect her choice and keep his mouth firmly shut. And if she accepted him as who he really was ... he looked down, bitterly, at his hands. The media had destroyed lives and killed people before, merely for marrying into the monarchy. Janelle was strong, he thought, but was she strong enough?
“Move out,” the CAG ordered.
Henry pushed his thought aside and took his starfighter back into battle.
***
“The starfighters are engaging the alien starfighters now,” Janelle said. “Nine minutes until we cross the tramline.”
“Understood,” Ted said. “Inform the CAG that the starfighters are to be pulled back to the hull in eight minutes precisely.”
He calculated the vectors, once again. Assuming the aliens could pull the same trick – and he dared not assume otherwise – they’d take at least twenty minutes to give chase through the tramline. By then, Ted could mine their most likely arrival point and set course for the other tramline. But would it be enough to stop them? Somehow, he doubted it. The aliens could harry him all the way back to Earth if they wanted.
“War Hog just returned,” Lopez reported. “She’s reporting clear space, sir.”
Ted let out a sigh of relief, although he knew not to take anything for granted. The aliens had staged one ambush during their approach to Target One; they might well try to stage another one, given time to get into position. But why would they surrender the chance to catch him on the hop?
“Take us through the tramline as soon as we are in position and the starfighters are back,” he ordered.
***
The alien starfighters loomed up in front of him, diving towards the human ships. Henry watched dispassionately as two of them died under his fire, then swung his starfighter into an evasive pattern as the aliens turned and returned fire. A third of their starfighters seemed intent on wiping out the human starfighters while the remainder fell on the carriers, despite withering fire from the point defence frigates. He cursed sharply as an alien came within a hair’s breadth of killing him outright, then fired back and cursed again as the alien neatly evaded his fire. The alien was a very skilful pilot.
“Keep covering your fellow pilots,” the CAG ordered. The battle had turned into a dogfight, with individual pilots challenging individual aliens. It suited the pilot mentality, Henry realised; the aliens seemed to share it, at least to some degree. But it wasn't as effective as joint operations. “And watch the carriers. You have to cover them.”
Henry nodded as he picked off an alien pilot, then swore as he saw a human starfighter vanish from the display. He wasn't even sure which country the pilot belonged to, but he fired on his killer and blew him into dust anyway. Moments later, an American pilot saved him from an alien pilot who had managed to get into firing position; Henry nodded to the American and pulled his craft around in a tight circle, searching for more targets. Ahead of him, a line of alien starfighters were closing in rapidly on the Japanese carrier. He reached for his firing key and pressed the stud ...
... And alarms sounded. Red icons flashed up in front of him. Henry stared for a split-second – they’d been warned that the plasma containment chamber could overheat, but there had been no reports of it actually happening – and then reached for the ejection lever. They’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that if the chamber did overheat, they were to abandon ship at once. There was no way to cool the chamber or eject it before it exploded.
He pulled the lever and exploded outwards into the darkness of space.
***
Ted hadn't wanted to monitor the young prince more than strictly necessary. He could understand, more than he cared to admit, just why the prince would want to live a life without his title hanging over his head, but he also had his duty. In the end, he’d set up a monitoring subroutine to inform him if anything happened to ‘Charles Augustus.’ Now, an alert flashed up in front of him. Prince Henry’s starfighter had vanished.
It was unlikely, Ted knew, that Prince Henry had survived. The starfighter jocks were allowed so much liberty because their lives could end in a split second. Even a glancing blow could prove fatal. He wanted to hold out hope, both for himself and Lopez, that Prince Henry had survived. But cold logic told him that it was unlikely. There was no time to search for any traces of his remains, either. They had to cross the tramline before Force Three got any closer.
I’m sorry, he thought, although he wasn't sure who he was apologising to. The King, for losing his son? Or the First Space Lord, who would have to deal wit
h the enormous shitstorm that would be hurled at the navy as soon as the media realised who had died. Or Janelle Lopez, who would have her life torn apart by the media ...
“Recall the starfighters,” he ordered harshly. “And prepare to drop mines.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. She didn't know yet, Ted realised. It spoke well of her that she hadn't tried to monitor her lover’s starfighter, even though she definitely had access to the systems that could do it. “Jump in two minutes.”
Ted watched, grimly, as the aliens fell back. It puzzled him for a long moment – were they actually letting the humans go? – then he thought he understood. They were heading back to their own ships in preparation for their own jump. The battle was far from over.
“All starfighters have linked to the hulls,” Lopez said. “We’re ready to jump.”
Ted wondered, for a long moment, if their mission would be counted as a success – or a failure. The aliens had taken a beating, they’d lost numerous ships and even a whole planet, yet in the end they’d booted the humans back out of Target One. But then, the humans had forced the aliens to react to them for once. It was worth the risk to make the bastards pause before they resumed their offensive.
But we lost the Prince and two carriers, the pessimistic part of his mind noted. Was it actually worth the material losses?
“Jump us out,” he ordered, quietly.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The aliens, somewhat to Ted’s surprise, didn't actually follow them through the tramline. At first, he suspected the aliens had deduced the presence of the minefield and altered course to avoid it, but as the hours wore on it became clear that the aliens had given up the chase. Ted ordered his fleet to continue moving towards the next tramline, then called a meeting in his office. Captain Fitzwilliam, his XO and the CAG were all invited to attend.
“I have reviewed all the records,” the CAG said. Kurt Schneider looked tired, but it would be a long time before he could sleep. “The last burst of data we picked up from Prince Henry’s starfighter stated that his plasma containment chamber had started to overheat. After that ... nothing.”
Ted scowled down at his hands. “Is there any reason to believe that Prince Henry might still be alive?”
Schneider shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “The plasma chambers are known to explode violently when they overheat. Even if the Prince did manage to eject, he’d be far too close to an exploding starfighter for his own safety. His flight suit might have been seriously damaged by the explosion.”
Killing him instantly, Ted thought. Or maybe he triggered his suicide implant.
It was the old nightmare, he knew. Trapped somewhere in space, the atmosphere slowly running out, without any hope of rescue. There were no figures for how many spacers had chosen immediate suicide rather than a slow unpleasant death, but he had the feeling that it was alarmingly high. Quite a few people had died through accidents in the early years of the expansion into space. He didn't want to think of Prince Henry making that choice, yet every spacer knew it was a possibility. It was why they were given implants, after all.
“So we lost Prince Henry,” Captain Fitzwilliam said. “We will be lucky to see space again, sir.”
Ted nodded, grimly. Even if the Board of Inquiry agreed that the command crew of Ark Royal were personally blameless, they would still be tied up for months, if not years, while the investigation was carried out. Ted gritted his teeth at the thought, but he knew there was no way to avoid it. Prince Henry was dead and his death, no matter how unremarked, would have consequences. And there would have to be a public announcement.
“So,” the XO said. She ran her hand through her red hair. “What are we doing here? Making sure we get our stories straight?”
She sounded bitter. Ted didn't blame her. She wasn't the Captain, or the Admiral, nor had she had any involvement in the Prince’s assignment to the carrier, but her career was likely to take a blow anyway. It would have been different, he knew, if her incompetence or carelessness had got her into trouble, yet she was neither. She was simply the victim of a decision made far above her level, one that shouldn't have impinged on her at all.
“They will blame us for this,” Schneider observed “And yet what were we supposed to do? Cuff him to his bunk and swear blind he was fighting alongside the rest of us?”
Captain Fitzwilliam tapped the table, hard. “I do not believe that we will be blamed for it, at least not in a serious manner,” he said. “It is human nature to seek someone to blame, but Prince Henry made his own choices. He wanted to be someone ... common, someone who earned his position through his own hard work and merit, and he succeeded. His death came about as a result of his efforts. I believe it was what he would have wanted.”
Ted glowered at him. “How can you be so casual about a young man’s life?”
“We all knew, from the day we signed up, that there was a very real prospect of death while undertaking our duties,” Captain Fitzwilliam said, quietly. “No matter who we were, no matter where we came from, death was a very real possibility. For the Prince ... his time simply ran out. He was likable and I will mourn, but I won’t allow it to overwhelm me.”
“If he’d been just another starfighter pilot,” Schneider snapped, “would you have cared?”
“Yes,” Captain Fitzwilliam said, sharply. “I would have cared.”
Ted nodded, knowing it to be true. On one hand, a senior officer had to be prepared to send his subordinates to their deaths; on the other hand, the officer couldn't afford to start sacrificing his men lightly, without due consideration. Captain Fitzwilliam probably didn't know the names of the other pilots on the ship, but he would never take their deaths lightly.
“But there is no blame, unless we wish to assign it to the Prince himself,” Captain Fitzwilliam added. “We should go home, make a full report and let the Privy Council decide how best to reveal the news to the public.”
The XO leaned forward. “And Lopez?”
“I will speak to her,” Ted said. He’d given her some time off after she’d seen the posted lists of dead crew and pilots. “After that, none of you are to discuss the matter with her or anyone else who doesn't already know about her ... relationship with the Prince.”
“Admiral,” Captain Fitzwilliam said, “there are protocols ...”
“Her life will be destroyed when – if – the media finds out about her relationship with Prince Henry,” Ted said, firmly. “We will not report their relationship to anyone, but the King himself. She doesn't deserve to have her life ripped apart and put on public display.”
He paused. “Besides,” he added, “do the protocols actually apply when she didn't know who she was dating?”
“I don’t know,” Captain Fitzwilliam confessed. “It is unprecedented.”
“Then we will assume they don't,” Ted said. Whatever happened to everyone else, it was unlikely his career would survive. God knew there would be some very nasty allegations about the loss of two fleet carriers. “That is an order, which you may have in writing if you wish.”
“And what happens,” the XO said quietly, “when it gets out?”
She looked up at Ted, grimly. “Someone will have seen them together,” she said. “Someone will have noted that they booked a privacy suite together. Someone will put two and two together when the media reveals the truth and starts pestering the crew for interviews. And you know just how much they would offer for a bombshell like this, sir.”
“When it happens, if it happens, we will deal with it then,” Ted said. She was right, he knew, but Lopez didn't deserve to have her life ripped asunder. “Until then, not a word to anyone.”
He cleared his throat. “I expect all of you to go through the records and write up a full report, which will be submitted to the Admiral’s Chest,” he said, referring to his secure datacore. “After that, we will put the matter to one side until after we return to Earth. Dismissed.”
He watched them leaving the comp
artment, then stood and headed out of the hatch himself, down towards the lower sections of Officer Country. The Admiral’s staff were entitled to cabins, although he'd been careful not to assemble more staffers than he actually needed, unlike some Admirals. But then, shipboard duty wasn't quite the same as duty on the ground or the Luna Academy. There, he’d probably need more aids just to keep his appointments calendar.
The hatch in front of him was closed, firmly. He hesitated – as the Admiral, he had the right to enter his assistant’s cabin whenever he wanted – and then pressed his hand against the buzzer. There was a long pause, long enough for him to start worrying, then the hatch hissed open, revealing a darkened room. Ted reached for the light switch and tapped it, bringing up the lights. Lopez sat on her sofa, staring at nothing. She barely even seemed to acknowledge his presence.
“Janelle,” he said, quietly. For a moment, he felt utterly helpless. Comforting someone who had lost a loved one was never easy, but this was going to be worse. He had to tell her the truth as well as comfort her, knowing that the truth wouldn't set her free. “Janelle, we have to talk.”
Ark Royal 2: The Nelson Touch Page 39
