The First Space Lord pressed his fingertips together as he sat back in his chair. Ted sucked in a breath, knowing that this was it. His superior was about to explain precisely why they’d been called to Nelson Base.
“So far, the aliens have made no further attempt at outflanking the defences,” the First Space Lord said. “They certainly have not attempted to attack Earth. However, we fear that this is just a matter of time. Ark Royal might be tricky to duplicate within a year, but we can improve our defences, start producing vast numbers of mass drivers and take other steps to make Earth less vulnerable. And we got very lucky when Ark Royal was in place to intercept the aliens.”
Ted couldn't disagree. The First Space Lord had gambled and won, but the aliens would be more careful next time. And they would probably start working on their own countermeasures against Ark Royal and her non-existent sisters. Even if they couldn't build nukes for themselves, which he strongly doubted, they could certainly recover them from New Russia. Unless the Russians had managed to fire off all their weapons before the aliens landed…
The First Space Lord took control of the display. “There was a great deal of arguing about the best way to proceed,” he continued. “However, the upshot of it was that Ark Royal was best employed in raiding New Russia, along with a couple of dozen older ships from minor powers. If there is a chance to strike some blows against the aliens, we should take them.”
Ted wondered, absently, just what deals had been struck to convince the Royal Navy to take the risk. The aliens had to know which tramlines the human race would need to use to reach New Russia, which meant that those systems would probably be heavily defended. There had been some political disputes between Britain and Russia over the years. Perhaps the Russians on Earth had offered to settle those in Britain’s favour in exchange for the raid. Or perhaps the Admiralty had reasoned that knocking the aliens back on their heels would help win time to prepare Earth’s defences.
“I would be delighted if you kicked the aliens off New Russia completely,” the First Space Lord continued, “but I doubt it would be possible. Instead, your orders are to give the aliens a nasty surprise and then attempt to make contact with any surviving humans on New Russia. The Russians have provided a contact team, which will actually land on the planet’s surface — if it seems possible. They’ve agreed that the final decision will be up to you.”
“Brave of them,” Fitzwilliam said.
Ted couldn't disagree. The aliens might well have exterminated most of the planet’s population from orbit… or simply taken control of the high orbitals and ignored the human population. But flying a shuttle through the alien positions would be tricky, almost suicidal. It was possible, he supposed, that the aliens could be decoyed away, but after the aliens had been fooled by the sensor decoys he’d deployed they’d be more careful about what they believed to be real.
“Precisely how you reach New Russia and engage the enemy will be your choice, of course,” the First Space Lord said. “However, we would like you to carry out the mission within the month.”
“That would give us time to outflank any alien pickets,” Ted mused. There were several tramlines that led through a series of useless or underdeveloped star systems, systems he suspected the aliens would probably ignore. But it wouldn't take more than a single stroke of bad luck for the aliens to get a fix on their position and scramble to attack. “As long as you didn't mind us taking the long road.”
The First Space Lord smiled. Traditionally, the Admiralty issued its orders and expected its subordinates to come up with their own operational plans. It made sense, Ted knew; there was no way to micromanage military operations across interstellar distances. The situation might change between a system CO sending a request for orders and receiving a response from the Admiralty, leaving the orders already out of date. But given how badly shocked everyone had been by the war, it wasn't impossible for the Admiralty to start issuing orders that tried to cover every little detail.
He was a CO himself, Ted remembered. He knows better than to try to micromanage.
“There is a catch,” the First Space Lord added.
Ted scowled, inwardly. There was always a catch.
“You’ll be taking a handful of embedded reporters with you,” the First Space Lord said. “I’m afraid it isn't negotiable.”
“Reporters,” Ted repeated.
“Reporters,” the First Space Lord confirmed. “I will expect you to show them every courtesy.”
Ted felt his scowl deepening. The last time he’d had to deal with reporters had been before his assignment to Ark Royal, when he’d been a mere Lieutenant. His CO at the time had told him that it was a perfect opportunity to broaden his mind and learn how to handle newcomers, something that Ted had clung to until he’d actually met the reporters. After that, he’d been convinced he’d somehow offended his Captain and the assignment was actually a non-too-subtle punishment.
“This is actually quite important,” the First Space Lord said. “Have you been following the mood on Earth?”
Ted shook his head. The First Space Lord nodded to the PR officer, who stepped forward.
“The public mood started out as wary, but confident,” the officer said. His nametag read Abramczyk. “After New Russia, it crashed right down and we had a whole series of riots led by people who thought that the entire world was about to come to an end. Then you pulled off your victory and the public mood started climbing upwards again.”
“Panicky civilians,” Fitzwilliam said.
“The average civilian knows nothing about the realities of naval combat,” Abramczyk reminded him. “They assume that the aliens can reach us in seconds and act on that assumption. The decision to try to cover up some of the details of New Russia didn’t really help, as it was poorly done and the truth leaked out. Having reporters on your ship may be a big step forwards towards rebuilding the public’s trust.”
Ted didn't — quite — sneer. “Sir,” he said, addressing the First Space Lord, “is that important?”
The First Space Lord didn't seem annoyed by the question. “Right now, the government is in a very weak position,” he said. “A number of MPs are threatening to desert — or are facing the risk of having their seats challenged in recall elections. If they lose their seats, we may face a reformed government that wants peace with the aliens, peace at any price. And Britain isn't the only country having problems. Both Russia and America may face political disasters in the next few months.”
“The aliens timed their attacks well,” Ted observed.
“Indeed they did,” the First Space Lord said.
Fitzwilliam looked over at Commander Steenblik. “Coincidence?”
“We don’t know,” Steenblik admitted. “It’s quite possible that they were watching us for years before finally starting the war. There were all of those reports about unknown starships being detected on long-range sensors…”
The First Space Lord cleared his throat. “You’ll take the reporters and like it,” he growled, addressing Ted. “You’ll have them bound by the War Powers Act, even the foreigners, so you can put them in irons if they really make a nuisance of themselves. But it is vitally important that we regain the public’s trust.”
Ted sighed. “Very well, sir,” he said. He had a vision of the reporters walking through his ship, harassing his crew. “I shall have them assigned quarters onboard Ark Royal. However, I will not tolerate my crew being harassed.”