“Admiral,” Janelle said, suddenly. “Long-range scans are picking up fifteen starships entering the system from Tramline Three and advancing on the planet.”
Ted frowned. Five days had passed since the aliens had informed the humans that the issue of human factions would need to be debated. Five days, during which he’d waited, feeling ice prickling down the back of his spine. Five days…
He’d forced himself to do the paperwork, to read up on all the reports and pray the aliens listened to reason. But if they worked out what had really happened, they’d be furious and almost certainly go back to war. Humanity wouldn’t react very well to attempted genocide either.
“I see,” he said. He forced a calmness into his voice he didn’t feel. “Time to orbit?”
“Thirty-seven minutes,” Janelle said. “They’re really pushing their drives.”
And they came out of the tramline as close to the planet as possible, Ted thought. There were human researchers who believed it might be possible to fiddle with the exit coordinate, but nothing had actually been proven. They must be in a hurry.
“Bring the flotilla to combat stations, covertly,” he ordered. Thankfully, they’d researched the tricky condition during the journey to the alien world. His crew would be as ready as possible, without alerting the aliens that something was wrong. “And then signal the Ambassador. I want him to ask the aliens what’s happening.”
He settled back in his chair and forced himself to wait. There had been no shortage of starships making their way in and out of the system since they’d arrived, but most of them had been civilian or commercial designs. None of them had shown the urge to push themselves forward so hard there was a very real chance of burning out the drives. But the newcomers were trying hard to reach the planet, as if they were racing against an invisible deadline. Did the aliens have politicians who knew nothing of the realities of space travel, he asked himself, or was something more sinister afoot?
“The Ambassador states that he’s heard nothing, but he is going to ask for a meeting,” Janelle reported. “There’s nothing wrong where they are, apparently.”
“Noted,” Ted said, eying the status board. One by one, departments and compartments all over the ship were checking in, reporting themselves at battle readiness. The only thing they didn’t have was powered up weapons. Starfighters were hanging in the launch bay, ready to engage the enemy if necessary. Ted would have preferred to launch them at once, but it might have seemed a hostile act. Instead, all he could do was wait. “Let me know the moment they respond.”
The alien craft blazed closer, angling their approach so they were plunging straight towards the planet. Ted studied the mass readings thoughtfully, silently concluding that the aliens had ten frigates, four middle-sized starships and one larger craft of unknown design. It didn’t seem large enough to be a carrier, but that meant nothing. Even the bulk freighters the Royal Navy had converted into escort carriers held two squadrons of starfighters apiece, giving them a nasty sting.
“One of the probes picked up a great deal of chatter between the planet and the incoming ships,” Janelle said, suddenly. “They’re talking past each other.”
Ted frowned. One of the more annoying aspects of the speed-of-light limit was that even radio signals suffered from incessant time delay. It was quite possible to send a message to a starship five light minutes away, then have to wait ten minutes — at least — for a reply. In some ways, it was a blessing — he hated to think what the Admiralty would do if they could issue orders in real time — but it was also irritating. One person could send another message while waiting for the answer to the first one, confusing both sides. It was considered preferable to send compressed messages rather than risk a misunderstanding that could cost lives.
But the aliens, it seemed, were ignoring the problem. Instead, they were talking… no one could have a conversation like that, Ted was sure. They were dictating to each other, issuing orders and perhaps even threats, without even waiting for the other side to reply. The thought worried him more than he cared to admit. If the Russians had been prepared to upset one set of negotiations in hopes of ending the war on their terms, what might the alien War Faction be prepared to do?
“Admiral,” Janelle said, “the alien defence grid is coming to life.”
Ted swallowed a curse. The aliens might have given the flotilla some space, but he was too old an officer not to know that the distance between the carrier and the alien defences was meaningless. A safe distance would have been much further from the planet. Now… he found himself unsure what to do. If he brought his ships to full alert, he might panic the alien defences… and if he didn’t, he risked being taken by surprise if the alien newcomers proved to be hostile.
“Activate our defence grid, but hold starfighters in their tubes,” he ordered, finally. He would have preferred to avoid using starfighters anyway — the squadrons still hadn’t shook themselves down properly — but he might not have a choice. “And…”
“Admiral, I have Ambassador Melbourne for you,” Janelle said. “Do you want me to put him through?”
“Yes,” Ted said. He keyed his console. “Ambassador?”
“The War Faction is making its move,” Ambassador Melbourne said, without preamble. “It thinks we cannot be trusted at all, Admiral, and the Russian actions just prove we cannot even honour our commitments to protect their diplomats. They’re choosing to override the other factions and launch an attack on us.”
Ted cursed out loud. “And what are the other factions saying?”
“They’re still arguing,” Ambassador Melbourne said. “I don’t think outright defiance of the factional consensus has ever been a problem for them before.”
Something else we taught them, Ted thought. The Russians acted alone. Why not the War Faction?
He paused. But they did attempt to prevent the Peace Faction from making contact…
“Please inform them that I intend to take all necessary measures to protect my ships,” Ted said, shortly. “And ask them to keep their ships out of the engagement if the shit hits the fan.”
“Understood,” Ambassador Melbourne said.
Ted tapped his console. “Commander, move us away from the planet, then launch starfighters,” he ordered. He had no idea how the remaining factions would react to humans killing aliens anywhere near one of their worlds, even though the War Faction had started the engagement. “Warn all ships that they are to only engage hostile targets.”
“Aye, sir,” Commander Williams said. She sounded rather more than a little dubious. In the middle of a high-speed engagement, separating friend and foe could become a little tricky. “I think some of them might be more hostile than others.”
“I know,” Ted said. If the War Faction wanted total war, how many other factions wanted a limited war, or a territory grab, or anything else between a war of annihilation and peace? “The sooner we put some distance between us and them, the better.”
He watched, grimly, as the flotilla moved away from the planet. Long minutes ticked by, then the War Faction starships altered course, aiming to intercept the human ships. Ted gritted his teeth, wondering if he dared fire first. What would the fence-sittings take as a hostile act? Or use as an excuse to come down against humanity? The war had been a great deal simpler before the humans realised there was a way to talk to their enemies.
But we were also losing, he thought, gloomily. If we can get some of the alien factions on our side, we might have a chance to survive.