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“Curious,” Rose said. “Do you think that means they’ve improved the torpedo systems?”

Kurt shrugged. The pre-war bombers hadn’t been designed to face alien plasma weaponry and the one attempt to test pre-war doctrine against the aliens had resulted in a horrific failure. Their torpedoes were simply not capable of breaking through enemy point defence systems, even if they fired a massive salvo. But now, if the system had been improved…

“We’ll find out, I guess,” he said, reviewing the message again. “I’ve got two days of leave on Earth, then I have orders to report to Ark Royal prior to the arrival of new pilots. And apparently I’m expected to brush up on international relations too.”

Rose gave him a puzzled look. “International relations?”

“That’s what it says,” Kurt said, swinging the terminal round so she could see the message. “But not much else.”

“They probably want us to go into battle with allies,” Rose suggested, after a moment. “The Royal Navy can’t bear the brunt of offensive operations on its own.”

Kurt nodded, sourly. The loss of two modern carriers at New Russia had cost the Royal Navy dearly. Given that it took at least three years to build a modern carrier — and longer, if they wanted to add heavy armour — those ships would not be replaced any time soon. If humanity wanted to go on the offensive, it would have to be a joint operation.

He took a sip of his wine. “And your own orders?”

“Probably waiting for me,” Rose said. “I’ll look at them later, afterwards.”

She put the glass down and leaned forward to kiss his lips. Kurt hesitated, tasting the wine on her lips, then kissed her back. Part of him cursed himself angrily — what had started as a fling before certain death had become something more — while the rest of him urged that he move forward as fast as possible. His hand reached up to feel her breast, straining against her uniform. Slowly, he undid the zippers, allowing them to spring free…

Afterwards, when she had showered and left, he felt torn in two. He felt deeply for her, yet he also felt deeply for his children. How could he hurt them by having an affair? At best, there would be a divorce; at worst, a long bitter court case. And he might well lose his career in the crossfire.

You’re a fucking idiot, he told himself, as he scrambled to his feet and headed towards the shower. You should never have gotten involved with her.

But now, he knew, he could never bring himself to break it up.

A moment later, his terminal bleeped. It was a message from Rose, informing him that she had been assigned back to Ark Royal too. Kurt stared at it with mixed emotions, then turned and stepped into the shower. Perhaps cold water would make him feel better.

“Yep,” he muttered out loud. “Definitely a fucking idiot.”

Chapter Four

“I couldn’t help noticing,” Ted said, as he stepped into the First Space Lord’s groundside office, “that London seems to be darker these days.”

The First Space Lord nodded as they shook hands, then waved Ted and Fitzwilliam to chairs facing his desk. “Between the war and the government’s emigration policy,” he said, “the city has lost quite a bit of its population. People are thinking that they might be safer well away from large cities.”

Ted nodded. The government, which owned the entire Britannia System, had been offering very generous settlement grants to prospective emigrants. If they chose to take the government’s offer, they would be assigned land on Britannia to develop how they chose or a homestead among the asteroid belts. The policy, he knew, had helped swell the new colony world’s population remarkably. In the long run, the projections suggested, Britannia would expand rapidly. The planet’s birthrate was already considerably higher than its founding country’s birthrate.

Probably end up with another revolution on our hands, he thought, cynically. Britannia already had representation in the Houses of Parliament — there was no point in repeating the mistakes that helped start the American Revolution — but some of its settlers wanted more autonomy. But they already had more than anywhere else in Britain, being so isolated from the mainstream.

He pushed the thought aside as the First Space Lord placed his fingertips together. “You’ll be pleased to know that we have a rough idea of Task Force Nelson’s size and composition,” he said. “Apart from Ark Royal herself, the Royal Navy will be providing two modified bulk freighters that will serve as escort carriers. Each one can carry and support a squadron of starfighters, giving you some additional punch. There will also be nine frigates that will provide an escort for the fleet.

“In addition, the Americans have volunteered three carriers, while the French and Japanese are providing one apiece. The Americans will also be providing the lion’s share of the ground combat element. This means, I’m afraid, that they’ve demanded the right to nominate both your deputy and the ground combat commander. Under the circumstances, we can’t really argue.”

“They’re providing three carriers,” Ted mused. “I’m surprised they didn’t demand overall command as well.”

“Luckily for us, you’re a hero in America,” the First Space Lord said, dryly. “And both the Chinese and Japanese refused to serve under American command. I doubt the French were too enthusiastic about serving under our command, but they’re bringing only one carrier to the party.”

Ted wasn’t surprised. While Britannia and Washington were on the other side of Earth from New Russia, New France and Edo were both closer to the front lines. Cutting loose a carrier apiece had to have worried their defence planners, even if they did want to make the joint defence of humanity’s space work. Battles had been won or lost before, based on the presence or absence of a single ship.

“So we’ll have six carriers,” Ted mused.

“The Americans and Chinese are both sending twelve frigates,” the First Space Lord added. “In addition, there will be a large transport element for the ground troops and the fleet train. You should be capable of sustaining your operations for close to a year before returning to human space.”

“Assuming there’s any human space left to return to,” Ted said, darkly. “Where do we stand on new weapons and starships?”

“We’ve finally managed to get a design worked out for a battleship,” the First Space Lord said, “one armed to the teeth with mass drivers and missile tubes. But we’re looking at around two years before the first one can enter service. By then, we should have standardized technology throughout human space, allowing our ships and components to become interchangeable. As for modified carriers…”

He shrugged. “Building another Ark Royal seems a waste of time,” he added. “But we have a plan for a carrier that combines the best of Ark with the modern designs. Still, we’re looking at two to three years before we have a working model. We’re sheathing the modern carriers in armour in the hopes of providing some additional protection.”

“That will be interesting to watch,” Ted mused. “How well does it work?”

“It should give them some protection,” the First Space Lord said. “But it hasn’t really been tested in combat.”

“Nor were the modern carriers,” Ted pointed out. The designs had looked good, on paper, and he had to admit that they were faster and more capable than Ark Royal. But their lack of armour had doomed them when the aliens had attacked. “And starfighters?”

“We’re finalising a unified starfighter class for humanity’s starships,” the First Space Lord informed him. “The best of British, American and Japanese technology, combined with everything we’ve learned about our enemies in months of war. Ideally, we should be able to operate from other carriers and vice versa once the starfighters enter service.”