James nodded. He’d reviewed the recordings of the battle during the long trudge back to Earth and one thing had become immediately clear. They’d surprised the aliens, surprised them badly. But that wouldn't last. The aliens would realise their own weaknesses, then adapt, react and overcome, just like humanity. By then, humanity had to be ready to close the gap.
The aliens might not be able to break Ark Royal’s armour — although the destruction of one of the frigates suggested that only applied to starfighter weapons — but they could certainly sweep her weapons and sensors off the hull. If that happened, the carrier would be blind as well as defenceless, waiting helplessly for the alien capital ships to come into range and open fire. So far, there was no proof that the aliens had any form of projectile weapon — either ballistic or powered — but that would certainly change. Humanity definitely had to take the lead.
“I won’t disagree with you,” he said. He looked down at the paper sheets, puzzling them out. “Can we operate the rail-guns there, though?”
“We’d have to run a few extra power lines,” Anderson said. “It would be simple enough to link them into the turrets we already have, but if we lost them… well, we’d lose the entire subsection. It will only take a few days if we have help from naval crewmen here.”
“That won’t be a problem,” James said. After the battle, Ark Royal had been granted absolute priority over every other starship in the system. Indeed, they’d even been able to convince the other powers to make contributions of older spare parts for the ship. “Can you do it without putting us out of action?”
“Easily,” Anderson assured him. “We will be able to spring back into battle within seconds.”
James allowed himself a moment of relief. No one really knew how the aliens would react to the bloody nose they’d received, but it was quite possible that they would launch an all-out attack on Earth. Careful analysis of the ship’s sensor records had revealed that the aliens could probably access at least a dozen new tramlines that would lead them directly to Sol. Three of them, in addition to the unnamed star system, were so completely isolated that there would be no warning before the aliens advanced on Earth.
Beats them being free of the tramlines, I suppose, he thought. If they were, we would be screwed.
“Make it so, then,” James ordered. The Chief Engineer rolled up his papers, then headed towards the hatch. “Send in Midshipwoman Lopez on your way out.”
The hatch opened and the Chief Engineer stepped through. Moments later, Midshipwoman Lopez entered and closed the door behind her. She looked tired, James noted, which wasn't too surprising. When she wasn't tending to her duties, she was helping the senior officers with their paperwork and refusing requests for interviews from the media.
“Sir,” she said. James hadn't told her why he’d asked her to report to his cabin, something that was rarely good news. “What can I do for you?”
“I want you to understand something first,” James said, silently damning himself. He had no right to keep an eye on his commanding officer, let alone involve a young and defenceless officer in his activities. “If what I am about to say makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, you are free to leave and forget about it, as long as you keep your mouth shut.”
The young woman’s eyes narrowed. James winced, inwardly. Clearly, she suspected that her superior was about to make an indecent proposal. Which was true enough, James had to admit, even if it wasn't quite the proposal she thought was coming.
“The Captain, as you know, used to have a problem with drinking,” he said. “Do you think he still has a problem?”
Midshipwoman Lopez looked thoroughly uncomfortable. “I believe,” she said, after a moment, “that he has largely stopped drinking. However, I do not monitor his alcoholic intake.”
“No, you wouldn't,” James nodded. He did his best to avoid sounding threatening or disapproving. “I need you to let me know if you have good reason to believe that this has changed.”
There was a long pause. “Sir,” she said, “you seem to be expecting me to spy on the Captain.”
James didn't bother to try to deny it. That was precisely what he was asking. But it opened up a whole new can of worms. Captains had a right to privacy — they were the only officers onboard ship with a reasonable expectation of privacy — and he was asking a young officer to betray that. It would destroy her career far more thoroughly than anything the Captain could do to him.
“The Captain is under a great deal of stress,” he said, instead. “That will only get worse as the media frenzy grows stronger — and it will. I need to know if the Captain returns to his old habits. If you tell me, it won't go any further. And I'm sorry.”
“If I see such evidence, I will let you know,” Midshipwoman Lopez said, clearly biting off several words that would probably have earned her instant demotion. Not that James could really blame her for anything she called him, at least in the privacy of her own head. Her tart voice was almost painful. “May I leave?”
In a way, James realised, she’d lost her virginity. Everyone liked to think of the navy as a band of brothers… and it was, to some extent. But there was also treachery, backstabbing and a certain amount of one-upmanship. Perhaps the war would change that, James hoped, or perhaps it would just make it worse.
He shook his head. All he could do was monitor the Captain and hope that nothing showed up that would force him to take action.
“You may,” he said. “And thank you.”
“Really?” She asked, as she turned and headed towards the hatch. “For what?”
Chapter Fourteen
Ted couldn't help feeling a little amusement at how the officers on Nelson Base reacted when he and Fitzwilliam walked through the hatch. Once, they would have either ignored him or snickered at him behind his back. What could they say to a drunkard who had somehow lucked into keeping his command, even if his command was only a starship the Royal Navy used as a dumping ground for its problem children? But now, after his victory, they fell over themselves to shake his hand. Even the Marines seemed impressed.
He rolled his eyes as the First Space Lord’s latest assistant showed him into a small compartment, where the First Space Lord and a couple of junior officers were waiting for him. One of them was wearing the unmarked uniform favoured by the Intelligence Corps, the other was wearing the too-neat uniform of a PR officer. Ted sighed, inwardly; he’d hoped to avoid Public Relations as much as possible. It might be important to keep civilian morale up, but he hated giving interviews even to friendly reporters.
“Please, be seated,” the First Space Lord said. This time, it was clear, they wouldn't be visiting the main briefing compartment. “We have a great deal to discuss.”
Ted kept his face expressionless as he sat down and rested his hands in his lap. A private discussion meant another deployment, he hoped; he couldn't help feeling that the alternatives were worse. Perhaps they wanted him to go on a speaking tour, reassuring the public that all was well with the war. But, even after he’d stopped drinking, he was hardly as photogenic as the actor who’d played Dan Dare in the 2123 remake of the classic space opera. And no one would be reassured if they saw his service record.