“Admiral,” Lopez said. “War Hog is ready to make transit.”
Ted nodded. The tramline that led towards the target system was dead ahead of them, seemingly unobserved. He had his doubts, but there was no evidence to suggest they’d been detected, merely an edgy feeling at the back of his mind. And that could easily have been the remains of his irritation at the party.
“Order her to jump as soon as possible,” he ordered, sitting back in his command chair. The odds were still strikingly against them having been detected. “And then to follow standard procedure.”
He watched, as emotionlessly as possible, as the starship vanished from the display and silently counted down the seconds until she re-emerged. This tramline should be compatible with standard human technology, he knew; the aliens would have no pressing reason not to keep an eye on it. But would they believe it to be out of humanity’s reach? There was no way to know for sure.
It was nearly nine minutes before War Hog reappeared. “Priority signal, Admiral,” Lopez said. “They detected definite traces of alien settlements.”
Ted sucked in his breath. He’d expected it, sooner or later, but it was still a shock. “Pass the data to the analysts, then share it with the other ships,” he ordered. “Was there any sign they were detected?”
“Negative,” Lopez said. “The fleet’s requesting orders, sir.”
“Order them to stand by,” Ted said. “We may need to rethink our approach.”
He keyed his console, accessing the data from the frigate. At such a distance, there was relatively little, but there were definite signs of alien presence. One nexus of radio signals, coming from a planet well out of visual range; several others, including a handful that probably came from starships in transit. And, he noted, three tramlines, including the one he’d probed. The system might not be of supreme importance to the aliens — there was no gas giant for mining, unless it was on the other side of the star — but the tramlines alone would give the system value.
“The planet’s in the life-bearing zone,” one of the analysts offered. “The aliens might well have settled it.”
“Almost certainly,” Ted agreed. Apart from small independent asteroid settlements, most humans preferred to live on planetary surfaces rather than starships or asteroids. If nothing else, a life support failure wouldn’t mean immediate death. “But how heavily is it defended?”
He shook his head. There was no way the question could be answered, not now. And they’d expected to run into an alien settlement or two along the way.
“We will proceed through the tramline, then steer our way towards Tramline Two,” he ordered. “If possible, we will avoid all contact with alien ships.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. She paused. “Intelligence will want a look at that planet, assuming it is a habitable world.”
“We can launch a spread of drones to observe the planet,” Ted said. It would be risky, but the odds against one of the drones being detected were staggeringly high. “And then have the information beamed back to us through a chain of remote platforms.”
He leaned back in his chair, trying to project an air of calm competence.
“Order the fleet to begin transit,” he added. “I want us all through the tramline without a single betraying emission.”
It was odd, Kurt decided, how space could go from being warm and friendly to hostile in a split second. He felt ice crawling up and down his spine as soon as the carrier jumped through the tramline, appearing within a system ruled by humanity’s alien foes. Part of him wanted to forget stealth, climb into a cockpit himself and lead the charge towards the alien planet, the rest of him knew that was an incredibly bad idea. The alien world didn’t seem to be that important, not in the great scheme of things. An attack would only alert the aliens that the fleet was on its way.
He forced himself to relax, cursing his promotion under his breath. There was no real rise in salary — he’d been drawing a CAG’s pay ever since his assignment to Ark Royal — but he was isolated from the battle. If — when — his pilots were launched into combat, he would be left behind, watching helplessly as they faced the aliens for the very first time. The rooks wouldn’t be completely unsupervised, but if the battle turned into a melee they’d be utterly dependent on their own skills. It was hard to coordinate a battle from the safety of the carrier.
Not that the other CAGs feel that way, he thought. He’d been able to chat with them, although none of them had really wanted to leave their pilots completely unsupervised. They think their carriers are just sitting ducks.
He took another look at the display, then tried to read one of the reports on his terminal that demanded his immediate attention. It was hard to concentrate, so he eventually closed the report and tried to focus on the display. A stream of updates was flowing into the system from the drones as they probed their way further into the system, but nothing had appeared that really demanded his attention. The alien world — and it was definitely settled by the aliens, judging by the observed ships in orbit — was largely undefended. It didn’t look as though the aliens had bothered to establish a proper defence grid, let alone orbital battlestations or automated platforms.
“We should be sweeping the place for clues,” he muttered to himself. He wanted, so desperately he could almost touch it, to be in a cockpit. To be somewhere, anywhere, else. “Or seeing what we might encounter along the way.”
Bitterly, he put the thought out of his mind. All he could do was watch. And wait.
Henry felt sweat trickling down his back as he sat in the cockpit, both praying for the signal to launch and the command to stand down. He’d stood watch before, ready to be hurled into space at the first sign of trouble, yet this was different. Outside, the aliens swarmed through the star system, perhaps already vaguely aware that they were not alone. His hands felt clammy as he rested them against his knees, so clammy that he couldn’t help worrying about his hand slipping when he was launched into space. Cold icy fear ran through his mind as he waited.
He’d never really been scared before, not ever. There had been no serious consequences in his life, such as it was; there had never been any real danger of death. Even his first time in a starfighter hadn’t been terrifying, even though the starfighter had proved immensely tricky to handle. He’d never really been afraid, not like some of the other trainees, who had approached the craft with nervous eyes and terrified faces. There had never seemed any real danger… and flying in space brought its own kind of freedom.
But now… he could die. Never mind the possible consequences of his death — it was hard to take them seriously when he was so powerless — or the effect it would have on his family, it was quite possible that the aliens could kill him. At least there would be no malice in it, he considered, or the naked hatred some commoners had shown towards the Royal Family, unaware that he would have gleefully swapped places with them any day. The aliens wouldn’t want to kill him because he was Prince Henry. They’d just want to kill him for being human.
Somehow, the thought made him feel better.
It was odd, he considered, how apologising to North had made him feel better too. Perhaps it was because he knew he’d done something stupid, perhaps it was the certain knowledge that it was Charles Augustus rather than Prince Henry who was being punished, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it hadn’t been a forced apology for something he hadn’t done or meant to do or someone easily offended had been offended by. And North had accepted it and that was the end of the whole affair.
Not quite, he reminded himself. You still have to clean the decks.
The thought made him smile. It was not a pleasant job — and the other pilots had been very droll when they’d explained why it wasn’t a pleasant job — but it was something he deserved to have to do. Not that he could explain that to them, of course. They’d think he was insane and, perhaps, they’d be right. But it hardly mattered.
Carefully, he relaxed back into his seat, bracing himself. If the call came, he would be ready.
“That’s a curious settlement,” the Rhino observed. “Reminds me of an alien Venice.”
Charles examined the live feed from the drones, thoughtfully. The detail was pathetic compared to images from satellites in low orbit, but enough had come through to allow them to study the alien city in some detail. It looked like it was half-submerged in water, with aliens swimming through the streets and canals; there were almost no structures on the planet’s land surface at all. The alien buildings were strange, to human eyes, yet there was something about them that seemed almost familiar. It took him a long moment to realise that he was looking at structures shaped like frozen water.
“They may be reminding themselves of their origins,” the Rhino speculated. “Or the buildings may actually be ice.”
Charles shrugged. The aliens looked… very alien, but there was something remarkably human about the way they thronged through their city. Was he looking at alien soldiers, hastening to defensive positions, or civilians living their daily lives, without thought of war? On Earth, despite the war, life went on. Was it the same for the aliens?
“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 new 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.”