“Yes,” Admiral Smith said, shortly. “The Marines can wait here. If we succeed in taking the planet’s orbitals, they can move in and secure the surface.”
And if we die, they can beat a retreat, James thought. Would the aliens realise the Marine transports were missing? They’d almost certainly picked up the ships in the previous system, even if it had cost them a small fleet. The Marines will hate having to run.
“The Rhino won’t like that,” he said. He’d been impressed with the American’s record, even if he didn’t show the dignity James had been brought up to expect from senior officers. “He wants to take them at a run.”
“Slow and steady wins the race,” Admiral Smith said. He smiled, rather dryly. “We will proceed as planned.”
James felt the tension rising sharply as the carrier slowly advanced towards the alien formation. More and more data flowed into the display, confirming their belief that the planet was densely populated; there were at least a hundred cities, all established along the coastlines. As before, the aliens didn’t seem to build anything in the hinterlands, apart from defensive stations. They hadn’t skimped on the defences of Target One.
“We’re assuming that those establishments are plasma cannon foundations,” Farley said, tiredly. “They’d be able to engage targets in high orbit, given the chance.”
“Then we’d better not give them the chance,” James said. He switched the display to focus on the alien fleet. They still seemed unaware of the human presence, although he had to keep reminding himself it could be an act. There was no way they were ignorant of human starships poking around near their system. “We can take them out at long range, if necessary.”
Ahead of them, the alien fleet grew clearer on the display as the drones passed through its formation, emitting nothing to betray their presence. Four carriers alone were a significant threat, James knew, and the presence of smaller alien ships with plasma guns would prevent him and his fleet from entering close range. But then, at close range, the aliens had the advantage. It was far better to stand off and hammer the aliens with long-range fighter strikes…
But at their speed, they can probably force us into a close engagement if they wish, he thought, grimly. Those ships are faster than ours.
“Twenty minutes to optimal range,” Farley reported. “They’re still showing no sign of being aware of our presence.”
“Good,” James said. He felt sweat trickling down his back as he leaned forward. “Tell the CAG that I want all fighters to launch as soon as the Admiral gives the word…”
The display flared with sudden red light. “Shit!”
“They pinged us, sir,” Lopez reported. “I think we stumbled across a passive warning platform; it just went active long enough to sweep us.”
Ted sucked in a breath. One of the frigates was already locking weapons on the platform, but the damage was done. Clearly, the aliens placed more faith in remote platforms than humanity… and he had to admit it had paid off for them. The fleet had been detected and the sweep had probably revealed everything the aliens wanted to know about its size and composition.
“Launch fighters,” he ordered. There was no point in sneaking around any longer. The aliens knew they were there. “All mass drivers are to commence firing.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said.
“Good,” Ted said. He settled back in his chair, trying to remain calm. At this range, the aliens would know they’d detected the human ships within seconds, at best. And then they’d react. But what would they do? “Launch a second set of drones towards the planet. I want to know just how they’re reacting to us.”
“Launch fighters,” Kurt said. “I say again, launch fighters!”
The rooks had done well, part of his mind noted, but being bloodied always helped pilots to overcome their last lingering issues. All six squadrons of starfighters streamed out of their launch tubes without any problems, then shook themselves down into formation without more than a handful of instructions from the Wing Commanders. Kurt felt a sudden stab of guilt as he thought of Rose, out there risking her life while he was safe in the Fighter Control Centre, then pushed it aside. If it had been up to him, he’d be out there too.
He turned his attention to the alien carriers and frowned. The aliens were launching fighters, but instead of angling out to attack the humans at once they were holding their ground and waiting. Waiting, he asked himself, for what? Were they weighing the odds of successfully defeating the humans or were they considering something else?
Or were they just bait in a trap?
The alien starfighters spread out, then opened fire on the mass driver projectiles as they flashed towards the alien fleet. They were alarmingly successful, Kurt noted absently; a handful of projectiles were missed, but none of them struck home. Perhaps the aliens had just decided not to waste their firepower on harmless projectiles. Behind the starfighters, however, the alien starships kept altering position. Clearly, they weren’t taking anything for granted.
“Kurt,” Admiral Smith said, as his image appeared in the display. “The starfighters are to take the offensive and engage the alien craft.”
“Aye, sir,” Kurt said. He tapped his console, issuing orders. “It feels good to have the advantage in numbers as well as surprise.”
“Yes,” the Admiral agreed. “But we shouldn’t get overconfident.”
“The aliens are pulling back,” Lopez reported. “They’re declining to engage us.”
Ted wasn’t too surprised. For once, humanity had a colossal advantage and he intended to use it ruthlessly. The aliens weren’t stupid. It would make far more sense, he knew, for them to pull back and escape, then watch from the edge of the star system or the next tramline for an opportunity to go back on the offensive. Pitting four carriers up against six was asking for trouble, particularly when humanity held several other advantages too.
But he had no intention of allowing the aliens a chance to escape. Four carriers… no one knew how many carriers the aliens had, but he was fairly sure that four carriers would be a significant chunk of their mobile firepower. Taking them out now, while he had a chance to engage with superior odds, would make it harder for the aliens to retake the system later. He couldn’t allow them to slip past without at least some attempt to take out their ships.
The aliens knew the problem as well as he did, he saw, as their starfighters assembled. There was nothing subtle about their formation, not now. They just wanted to intercept the humans and drive them away from the capital ships. Ted wondered, absently, if the aliens had figured out how to separate the bombers from the fighters, then decided it was unlikely to matter in the long run. The odds favoured the aliens when it came to shooting down incoming missiles.
“The mass drivers are to keep firing,” he added. They had no shortage of projectiles — and a few hours near an asteroid would provide all the additional ammunition they needed. “If we can keep the aliens concentrating on multiple threats, so much the better.”
On the display, the starfighters were rapidly closing in on the alien formation. Ted couldn’t help noticing that the rooks had improved enormously… carefully, his eyes sought out the icon marking Prince Henry’s starfighter. He muttered a curse under his breath as he realised that the Prince was going to be in the thick of the fighting once again, then dismissed the thought with some irritation. The Prince had wanted to be a true pilot. He’d managed to get his wish — and risk his life in the process.
We should all be that lucky, Ted thought, ruefully. From what Fitzwilliam had said, he rather liked Prince Henry. Not everyone gets what they want in life.