The alien starfighters — those that had survived — darted back, clearly intent on protecting their carrier. Ted didn’t blame them, even though there was a planet and its orbital facilities within easy range. In their shoes, he would have wondered what sort of welcome he’d get from the other factions too. Besides, the carrier was the only ship that could replenish them in time to return to the fight. But it was already too late. The human starfighters were closing in on their targets at terrifying speed.
“The bombers are preparing to engage their targets,” Janelle said. She sounded tense, unsurprisingly. Prince Henry was leading the strike. “The aliens are trying to engage them with plasma weapons.”
The regulations governing relationships will have to be revised, Ted thought, in a moment of irrelevance. What did it say about the ancient carrier’s crew that there had been at least two mission-threatening romances? He wondered, absently, if there had been others, then pushed the thought aside. If any of us get home we can worry about it then.
Two starfighters vanished in puffs of smoke as they fell prey to alien weapons, but the remainder closed in and opened fire, launching their missiles towards the alien ships, then breaking off as the aliens redirected their attention towards the missiles. Nine of twelve missiles were vaporised before they had a chance to detonate, the remainder entered attack range and detonated, savaging the alien ship. It disintegrated, moments later, in a colossal explosion.
“Target destroyed,” Janelle said, calmly. “Secondary strike engaging… now.”
Ted smirked, ruthlessly. The aliens hadn’t brought along anything like enough starfighters to win the engagement, now their first attack on the carrier had been defeated. But the aliens themselves didn’t seem to agree. Even as his starfighters were retreating, the aliens were reconcentrating their forces and preparing to continue the fight. Ted eyed the display, concerned. So far, the aliens seemed to have screwed up. And yet he had too much experience to rely on that hopelessly optimistic assumption.
Unless they assumed the other factions would join in, Ted thought. Intelligence’s estimates of just how many starfighters could be crammed into the alien fortresses made frightening reading. Target One had been nowhere near so heavily defended. That would make sense — and explain why they brought only a small amount of firepower to the fight.
“Continue firing,” he ordered, as the aliens started their second offensive. This time, their starfighters were noticeably depleted. Behind them, missiles were launched as the alien ships opened fire. “And try to drive them away from our hull.”
“Aye, sir,” Janelle said. “I…”
She broke off as the display suddenly flared with ugly red light.
These bastards just don’t know when to give up, Henry thought, as he dodged a plasma bolt from one of the alien fighters. The aliens had skill, he had to admit, but they didn’t have the numbers to win. They should be running now…
He broke off as an alert sounded over the emergency channel, then glanced at his display. The other alien factions had finally taken a hand, launching so many starfighters that the human sensors couldn’t even begin to count them all. Henry felt absolute despair as a wall of starfighters threw themselves towards the human ships, so many that he knew there was no way they could stop them all, or escape. The ancient carrier and her flotilla were doomed.
“We’re picking up a signal,” Rose said. She sounded utterly despondent, very different from her normal self. But then, the odds facing them had become utterly impossible. They could trade ten alien starfighters for every human craft and the aliens would still come out ahead. “They’re broadcasting to us all…”
Henry keyed a switch. “Stop. Firing,” an atonal voice said. “Both. Stop. Firing.”
“What?” Henry said. On the display, the original group of alien starfighters were breaking off and putting some distance between themselves and the human ships. “What are they doing?”
“Intervening, it would seem,” Rose said. She took a breath. “Did they tell you anything about this on the planet?”
“No,” Henry said, flatly. The aliens had been debating the issue, the last he’d heard, although as a starfighter pilot he no longer had access to the diplomats. He’d worried the aliens would see the Russian actions as proof humans were irrationally evil. “But I would suggest doing what they say.”
Rose laughed, a little hysterically. “I suppose several thousand starfighters are a strong case for obedience,” she said. She cleared her throat. “All ships, fall back to CSP position; I say again, all ships fall back to CSP position.”
Henry frowned — Rose hardly sounded commanding — but obeyed, making a mental note to have a private chat with her later. It was probably against regulations to do so… he shook his head. Given that he planned to leave the Royal Navy at the end of the war, it wouldn’t matter if she wrote angry remarks in his file — and besides, it was unlikely anyone would take them seriously.
He sighed, inwardly. Had he finally fallen into the trap of using his rank as a weapon?
The wave of alien starfighters kept their distance from Ark Royal, but positioned themselves to stand between the human ships and the War Faction’s flotilla. Henry watched grimly, wondering if the War Faction’s monomania would lead it to open fire on the other aliens, even though they were grossly outgunned. But it seemed not. Instead, the aliens recovered their starfighters and set out for the tramline, exchanging angry messages with their fellows the whole time. Henry would have liked to be able to understand what they were saying. He had a feeling that it would have shown him more of just how the alien society actually worked.
But it wasn’t possible. One day, he knew, there would be an automatic translator that would allow translations to be carried out in real time. Until then, all they could do was wait… and pray it wasn’t an elaborate trick.
“Hold fire,” Ted ordered, as the alien starfighters slipped into position. He had to admire their nerve, although the certainty of possessing superior firepower had probably helped the alien decision to cover Ark Royal. “Recall one half of the starfighters and get them replenished, then replace the CSP and send them through replenishment.”
“Aye, sir,” Janelle said.
Ted nodded to himself, then looked back at the display. He’d known absolute despair as the wall of starfighters rushed towards his ships, then a burst of pure relief as the aliens ordered their fellows to stop firing. He couldn’t help reflecting on how the aliens had clearly drawn inspiration from humanity’s actions. Kurt Schneider’s death had definitely not been in vain, not when he’d given his life to save the aliens from the Russians. The aliens had mirrored that action when they’d put themselves between the humans and the War Faction.
But the War Faction’s ships were still retreating, broadcasting angry messages towards the alien world. Their homeworld, perhaps? Ted knew there was no way they could be translated properly, leaving him with a disturbing mystery. What, if anything, was the War Faction actually saying? His imagination provided everything from lists of Captain Haddock’s favourite insults to promises of revenge at a much later date. But the aliens seemed inclined to just let the War Faction go without taking further action. It couldn’t be that serious, could it?
His console buzzed. “Admiral,” Commander Williams said, “is it wise to draw down the CSP?”