James made a face. There were too many flaws in the plan for him to be entirely comfortable with it.
Idiot, he told himself. If you’d taken command, you would have to grapple with the same problems yourself.
An alarm sounded, making him jump. “Sir,” Farley said, “we just picked up a warning signal from the sensor drones. Seven enemy carriers and forty smaller ships have just jumped into the system.”
“Show me,” the Captain ordered. Red icons appeared on the display, surrounded by lines projecting their course and speed. They were heading towards the predicted tramline. “It appears we have company.”
“Yes, sir,” James said, feeling cold ice running down the back of his spine. The aliens had chopped through twelve modern carriers… what if they were wrong about Ark Royal’s armour? Or what if they were right… and they were still overwhelmed anyway. “I think they saw the drones.”
On the display, the alien craft altered course. “No fighters,” the Captain noted. “Or are they there and we can’t see them?”
James shrugged. A human CO might keep his pilots in the launch tubes as long as possible, giving them what protection he could, but who knew how the aliens thought?
The Captain keyed his terminal. “Red alert,” he said, “I say again, red alert. All hands to battlestations.”
A low drumbeat echoed through the ship, bringing the crew to full readiness. “I’m going to the bridge,” the Captain added. “We’re about to find out the truth for ourselves.”
James nodded, then turned back to the display.
“Get your ass in gear,” Kurt snapped, as the pilots ran for their starfighters. “Into the cockpits, now! Move, damn it!”
He scrambled up the ladder into his own cockpit, then hastily keyed the switch to bring his fighter to full power. They’d been sitting in the ready room when the alert had sounded; if he’d had his druthers, half of the formation would have been on combat space patrol at all times. But he understood the Captain’s logic, even if he didn’t like it. They didn't dare let the aliens seem something that suggested the decoy carriers weren't real.
“Ready for launch,” he said, once he’d strapped himself into the cockpit. “Check in, by the numbers.”
One by one, the pilots sounded off. Nothing had gone wrong, thankfully; he’d seen several deployments when starfighters had suffered failures that had forced the crews to hold them back long enough to be fixed. Pilots hated it when that happened, but Kurt suspected that it was better than suffering a catastrophic failure while in interplanetary space. He checked in with the CIC as soon as all of the pilots had reported in, then braced himself for the launch. It always felt like a roller coaster, despite the best compensators the Royal Navy could produce.
He forgot his concerns as soon as he was blasted out of the tube into interstellar space. The stars burned brightly around him, illuminating the darkened shape of the carrier. There was no way they could see the alien craft with the naked eye, but their carriers were showing up clearly on his display. The starfighters, on the other hand, weren't showing up at all. He gritted his teeth, realised just how dangerous the alien stealth systems could be. If their sensors were unreliable, the aliens could just snipe the human craft out of visual range, picking them off one by one.
“Additional sensor drones are being launched,” the XO said. “If the aliens can't maintain their stealth when they go to full power…”
And if they can, we’re dead, Kurt thought. He looked back at the alien carriers on the display, trying to estimate how long it would take the alien starfighters to enter engagement range. But there just wasn't enough hard data to make a realistic guess.
“Alpha and Beta, with me,” he ordered. “Delta and Gamma, remain to cover the Old Lady.”
He listened to the acknowledgements, then gunned the starfighter’s thrusters, forcing it forward. Ahead of them, the alien carriers grew larger on the display.
Ted wanted a drink, desperately. Something to give him a little courage and determination, something to keep him going as seven massive alien carriers bore down on his command. It was clear that the aliens had been fooled by the decoys — it was the only explanation that made sense — and yet, he knew all too well that they had the firepower to deal with the illusionary ships. He needed a drink…
He forced the thought aside as he watched his starfighters advancing towards the enemy, fighters taking the lead while the bombers followed afterwards, waiting for their chance to launch their missiles at the enemy ships. The aliens had a definite unfair advantage, he decided; their starfighters could switch roles effortlessly, while the human craft were easy to separate out, isolating the ones that posed a definite threat to the enemy ships. He had no doubt that the aliens intended to take advantage of their technology as much as possible. It was what he would have done.
“Picking up some odd distortion as the drones advance forward,” Farley said. The tactical officer was staring down at his console, puzzled. “We might be able to provide rough locations for the alien fighters.”
“We need something more precise,” Ted said. They could detonate a string of nukes… but if they weren't careful, they’d risk damaging their own starfighters too. “Can you get a lock on them we can use to…”
He broke off as new red icons blinked into existence. Despite himself, he couldn't help a flicker of admiration for the alien technology… and the pilots of the alien starfighters. Flying so close to their target was ballsy, all right, even if they knew they were effectively invisible. But now they could be seen… he watched as Gamma wing altered course, swinging up to confront the alien craft, while Delta wing remained behind to shield the carrier’s hull. So far, their planning seemed to have paid off.
“Clear to engage,” he ordered, as the alien starfighters accelerated forward. Their power curves were definitely less capable than human starfighters… and there was a curious elegance about them that seemed oddly impractical. Or maybe they genuinely could operate within a planetary atmosphere. “I say again, clear to engage.”
“They’re coming right towards us now,” Commander Fitzwilliam said, through the intercom. “They must have realised that the other carriers are decoys.”
“Looks that way,” Ted agreed. “Deactivate the drones. We can recover them after the battle.”
He scowled as the alien craft came closer, showing no hint of surprise when the dummy carriers vanished from the screens. Yes, they’d definitely seen through the deception… he tried, quickly, to work out when they’d seen through it, but it was impossible to say for sure. He pushed the thought aside, gritting his teeth. The whole theory about his ship’s armour was about to be put to the test.
The alien starfighters didn't bother to do more than fire a handful of shots at the human starfighters as they roared past them, concentrating instead on Ark Royal. Ted watched, feeling a moment of relief as four alien starfighters vanished from the display, picked off by his ships, then braced himself as they came into engagement range. This was where they’d torn the more advanced carriers apart… a handful of them fell to the carrier’s point defence, but the remainder kept boring in. He watched, mentally praying desperately to a god he wasn't sure he believed in, as the alien weapons flared to life… and slammed into the carrier’s armour.