“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?