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But there was one thing the report couldn't answer. How, precisely, did the alien thought processes differ from human ones?

And just what were they planning for Ark Royal?

“Angle us towards the tramline,” he added, watching the timer closely. Soon enough, the aliens wouldn't be able to intercept them before they made the jump. There would be an opportunity, Ted calculated, to make an escape into silent running before the battlecruiser caught up… assuming that there was no waiting ambush. If there was… they’d just have to fight and pray. “Give me a countdown as soon as we reach the two-minute mark.”

* * *

“Why don't we just go faster?”

James concealed his tired amusement at Barbie’s question. Ark Royal wasn't trying to crawl through space, not with her drives straining desperately to push them faster and faster towards the tramline. But, compared to a modern human carrier — or the alien battlecruiser — she was a wallowing hippo. The only thing preventing the alien ship from closing to engagement range was her commander’s reluctance to close the distance between them and the carrier.

“Because we don’t have the drives to go faster,” he said. “It was a terrible oversight on the part of the designers.”

The thought made him scowl. He’d read all the debates in the various naval forums, after Ark Royal had been commissioned into the Royal Navy, in what little spare time he’d had since becoming fascinated with the ship. Some designers had argued that the carrier was simply too heavily armoured for her own good, that she would hold back the fleet if the Royal Navy ever went on the offensive. And she was cripplingly expensive. Even the American and Russian carriers that had come into service at the same time were lighter.

But now… now Ark Royal had a survival rate the modern carriers could only envy. New Russia had proven that; twelve modern human carriers, all wiped out with ease. Even now the alien weapons were a known quality, the modern carriers would still be in trouble. The last he’d heard, the designers were planning to add extra armour, hoping it would give the ships a fighting chance.

I guess the designers got the last laugh, after all, he thought. But will they ever know what happened to us?

“Heads should roll,” Barbie said, with great certainty. “When we get home, we will make sure everyone knows just how badly the designers performed.”

“Don't tell them that,” James said, quickly. “They did better than the more modern designers.”

His communicator buzzed. “We cross the tramline in ten minutes,” the Captain said. “Report to the CIC.”

“Understood,” James said. “I'm on my way.”

Barbie caught his hand before he could leave the compartment. “Commander,” she said, “once we cross the tramline we’ll be safe, right?”

James hesitated. The truth was that the alien battlecruiser would have no difficulty in crossing the tramline after them, although it might take the time to ensure that the humans couldn't lay an ambush. He'd thought about advising the Captain to do that, but it would be chancy. Too chancy, perhaps.

“We’ll be out of this system,” he said. He didn't have the heart to tell her that they might fly straight into an ambush. “I don't know what will happen afterwards.”

Shaking his head, he turned and walked out of the hatch.

* * *

“No sign of any picket ships,” Farley reported. “The tramline seems to be empty.”

Ted nodded, although he knew it meant nothing. The aliens could be hiding under stealth or simply running silent. It wouldn't be hard to use passive sensors to track the carrier’s progress, not now they were close to the tramline. And the battlecruiser was still keeping its distance.

“Sound the alert,” he ordered, quietly. The alarm howled through the ship, bringing the crew to battlestations. Ted watched as the ship’s weapons came online, followed rapidly by the starfighter pilots checking in. Tired as they were, they were still ready to fight to defend their carrier. “Reports?”

“All decks report ready, sir,” Farley reported.

Ted took a breath. “Jump,” he ordered. “Now!”

Space twisted around them, the display fading into darkness before lighting up again. Ahead of them, there was a dull red star, surrounded by hundreds of asteroids.

“No contacts,” Farley said. “No alien contacts detected at all.”

Ted stared at the display, wonderingly. Had the aliens merely sought to keep an eye on them rather than placing an ambush ahead of their course?

An alarm sounded from the helm console. “Captain,” Lightbridge said. “There are no other tramlines here.”

Ted swore in sudden understanding. The aliens hadn't engaged because they'd known Ark Royal was heading towards a dead end. She’d been heading in precisely the direction the aliens wanted her to go. Hell, the bastards could use the battlecruiser to keep the carrier penned in while they summoned additional reinforcements. He thought, desperately, as the carrier moved away from the tramline, but nothing came to mind. They were trapped.

“Silent running,” he ordered. Unless the aliens had surveyed the system very carefully, Ark Royal could pose as just another asteroid. One battlecruiser couldn't hope to identify them among the other pieces of space junk. “Leave one powered-down drone by the tramline, but hold the others. We need to hide.”

“Yes, sir,” Farley said.

Ted scowled down at the display. A thin translucent line — an alien tramline — winked into existence, mocking him. They couldn't use it to escape, even though it seemed to head back into human space. There was no way they could build an improved Puller Drive in time to make it out. Moments later, the alien battlecruiser popped into existence. Ted watched, holding his breath, then sighed in relief as he realised the aliens had lost them. But that wouldn't last indefinitely.

The conclusion was inescapable. They were trapped.

“You have the bridge,” he growled. Bitter helplessness warred in his mind. They were trapped — and it was his fault. If he’d taken the risk of jumping back towards New Russia instead… he shook his head, angrily. Now, he would have all the time in the world to second-guess himself. “Keep us drifting here.”

With that, he strode through the hatch and headed down towards his cabin.

Chapter Thirty-Five

James studied the display, feeling cold ice congealing around his heart.

The realities of the tramline network were well-understood, he knew. Without a tramline, travel from star to star was impossible. God knew that at least one sublight colony venture had deliberately aimed for a star that was believed to have no tramlines, putting six light years between them and the closest human world. But every other star system reached by humanity had at least one tramline. Here, through, they had come to the end of the line.

He sucked in a breath as the alien battlecruiser made her appearance, sitting on top of the tramline and showing no sign of budging. Once again, thankfully, the aliens had prepared for an ambush that hadn’t been prepared, giving the human ship time to hide. Ark Royal would remain undetected as long as she remained still, he knew, particularly since the aliens didn't seem to be actually looking for her. But they wouldn't be able to re-enter the tramline at a different point without altering course radically enough to risk detection… and even if they did, they’d only jump back to Alien-Two. No, they were trapped… and the aliens would be gathering the force to destroy them.