“Force Three is picking up speed,” Lopez reported. “She wants to catch us now, I think.”
“Too late,” Ted said. On the display, the mines had started to detonate. He’d picked their targets with a calculated ruthlessness that had surprised him, despite knowing what was at stake. “Far too late.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Five carriers gone, sir,” Lopez reported. “One more badly damaged.”
“Launch fighters,” Ted snarled. “All batteries commence firing!”
He watched, grimly, as Force Two withered under his fire, then started to launch its remaining fighters. The aliens seemed stunned, but they were already collecting themselves — and, behind the humans, Force Three was catching up. Losing so much speed so rapidly opened the serious risk of being taken from behind.
“Resume course and speed,” Ted ordered, as the starfighters lanced out ahead of his ships. “I want us to pass through the tramline as soon as possible.”
Kurt barely managed to prevent himself from crying out in delight as he saw just how much damage the alien fleet had taken; the rooks were much less restrained. A force that might have been able to stop the humans directly had been crippled, badly enough to give the human fleet a fighting chance. He smiled to himself as he led the starfighters and bombers towards the alien ships, which were starting to scatter. Their fighters were hastily organising themselves into a formation to cover the retreat.
“We can’t just concentrate on the carriers this time,” Kurt said. At close range, the alien frigates and battlecruisers were just as dangerous as the carriers and their starfighters. “I’m designating targets now. Take them all out as quickly as possible.”
He braced himself as an alien starfighter swooped down on him, then fired off a stream of plasma as he took evasive manoeuvres. Even facing overwhelming odds, the aliens held the line and tried to beat the humans off, while others slipped past the human starfighters and roared towards the human starships. Kurt wondered, in a sudden moment of insight, if the aliens had a far larger fleet of carriers than humanity. They’d certainly been less concerned about losing carriers than the human race.
“Gamma, cover the bombers,” he ordered, as the bombers closed in on their targets. Alerts flared up in his HUD as several mass driver projectiles shot past, aimed at the alien frigates. Only one struck home, but it smashed its target into rubble. The remainder were either blasted into dust by the aliens or simply missed their targets. “Everyone else, focus on keeping the alien starfighters busy.”
The alien frigate loomed up in front of him on the display, firing endless streams of plasma towards the human fighters. Kurt saw two of his fighters vanish in quick succession, followed by an American bomber that was struck moments before it could launch its torpedoes, then the fire drained away as the remaining bombers opened fire. The alien frigate managed to shoot down all, but one of the torpedoes. But one was enough to destroy the ship.
“Target destroyed,” a Japanese-accented voice said. “I say again, target destroyed.”
“Good shooting,” Kurt said. “Now let’s do it again.”
“Incoming starfighters,” Farley warned. “They’re targeting us and Napoleon.”
“Lock point defence on incoming craft; fire at will,” James ordered. “I say again, fire at will.”
He braced himself as the alien starfighters swooped down on Ark Royal, shooting continous streams of plasma towards her hull. As always, sensor blisters and weapons mounts were destroyed, but this time their fire raged towards the weakened section of the hull. James sucked in his breath as the aliens closed in, then smiled in relief as four alien starfighters were picked off by the point defence before they had a chance to start shooting through the gap in the carrier’s armour. Anderson had been right, he noted; placing the makeshift point defence weapons near the damaged section had lured the enemy right into the teeth of their guns.
But it wouldn’t be enough if the aliens continued their assault. A dull thump ran through the ship as an alien fighter slammed into the hull, scratching her armour quite badly. Thankfully, there was no major damage, but if more aliens resorted to suicide tactics the carrier might be in real trouble. James smirked at the thought, rolling his eyes at the absurdity. They were in real trouble already.
“We’ve lost multiple sensor blisters,” Anderson muttered, through the communications link. “If this goes on…”
“Inform the Admiral,” James ordered. If Ark Royal lost the ability to see what was happening around her, the Admiral would no longer be able to coordinate the fleet. Admiral Shallcross would have to assume command at short notice. But if the aliens realised that the fleet’s Deputy Commander was on a far more vulnerable carrier…
He pushed the thought aside. “Scramble damage control teams,” he ordered, as the CSP chased the aliens away. “We will continue firing as long as possible.”
Ted watched the battle, powerless to affect its outcome any longer. The starfighters and bombers, combined with long-range mass driver fire, had smashed Force Two, although its remaining starships were fighting to get into plasma weapons range. At least the aliens didn’t seem to have devised any long-range weapons, thankfully. But then, long-range missiles could be picked off with ease.
“Warn the fighters not to let those frigates enter plasma range,” he ordered. “And keep the CSP on alert.”
“Aye, sir,” Lopez said. She paused. “The alien starfighters are targeting Napoleon.”
Ted scowled down at the display. Did they think that Ark Royal was still a tough target or did they think they’d already crippled her and intended to cripple or destroy the other carriers? It didn’t matter, he told himself a moment later. All that mattered was protecting the carriers as long as possible.
“Order the CSP to cut loose a squadron to assist the French,” he ordered. “We need to drive the aliens away from the carriers…”
But the aliens, furious or desperate, weren’t going to back off so easily. Ted watched, grimly, as alien starfighter after alien starfighter lanced down towards the French carrier, firing into her hull with cold precision. Unlike Ark Royal, the French carrier’s armour was insufficient to stand up to the blasts; it was sheer dumb luck the aliens hadn’t already managed to destroy her. As Ted watched, a line of explosions shattered the carrier’s landing bay, crippling her ability to recover starfighters.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Raise Captain…”
Napoleon exploded. Ted watched in growing horror as a series of explosions ripped the carrier apart, scattering pieces of debris through space. There were no sign of any lifepods; the French hadn’t had time to abandon ship, even when they’d realised there was no hope of preserving their vessel any longer. Ted shuddered — three thousand French crew had been killed in a matter of seconds — and then forced himself to look away. There was no time to mourn the dead.
“We keep moving,” he ordered, harshly. If there was any advantage to the whole sorry incident, it was that a number of alien starfighters had been caught in the blast and obliterated. “We will not let their sacrifice go to waste.”
He looked down at the display, silently calculating vectors. Force Two had been effectively destroyed, now; there was nothing blocking their escape through the tramline, once they reached it. But Force Three was launching starfighters, ready to press the offensive. And if he sent his own starfighters to engage Force Three, he risked being unable to recall them in time to make the jump. Nothing smaller than a frigate, at least nothing built with human technology, could jump through a tramline.