“Good,” Ted said. He looked up, expecting to see Janelle in her usual place. But she was gone. “Set course for New Russia, Commander, and take us there as fast as possible.”
“Aye, sir,” Commander Williams said.
Ted sighed, then looked up at the starchart, running through the calculations again and again. It was going to be close, he knew, very close. If they’d screwed up one or more of the assumptions, the aliens might make it through the New Russia system before the Old Lady arrived, forcing them to chase the aliens to Earth. And then… Standish would probably reach Earth in time, he hoped, but would it be enough? Earth’s defences were weaker than they’d been ever since the human race had started reaching into outer space.
He wanted a drink. He needed a drink. But there was no alcohol on the ship, apart from the illicit still he knew existed somewhere. And besides, the last thing anyone needed was a drunken Admiral in command during the climactic battle of his ship’s career. They would win, he knew, or die bravely. There was no alternative.
And he’d sent Janelle home.
He wasn’t sure why he’d done that, although he knew he could easily justify the decision afterwards, if necessary. She was a promising young officer; service on Ark Royal as his aide would guarantee her a place at the Admiralty, if she wanted it, or a chance to move to one of the new carriers when they finally entered service. And the Royal Navy needed promising young officers. But he knew that wasn’t the only reason for his decision.
He reached out and stroked the bulkhead as the ship started to move, heading directly towards the nearest tramline. The aliens had sworn blind that no one would attempt to impede their passage, although Ted had no intention of taking it for granted. Ark Royal’s course would be easy to predict, once the aliens calculated her destination. If they sent word to the War Faction…
But it wouldn’t matter, Ted told himself. The War Faction’s fleet had to go through New Russia. There was no alternative unless they wanted to add several weeks to their journey, several weeks Earth could use to prepare the defences and get hundreds of thousands of people off the threatened world. The Old Lady would get to New Russia first and confront the aliens. Any other outcome was unthinkable.
He stroked the bulkhead again, feeling a dull thrumming flowing through the metal. The Old Lady was cumbersome and inelegant — and ugly as sin — but she was beautiful to him. She had always been beautiful, although he could never have expressed the sensation in a manner anyone else could understand. There was a crudeness to her structure, a sense the designers hadn’t given a damn about anything beyond functionality… and yet she had a heart and soul that the more modern carriers lacked. He could have retrieved his career, Ted knew, if he’d given up the drink. But he’d chosen to stay on Ark Royal, instead of retiring and drinking himself to death.
It had been a strange time, he recalled. His loyal crew had worked to keep the carrier functional, even though few of them had believed the ship would ever return to active service. They’d bought, begged and occasionally stolen components they needed to keep the ship in working order. They’d even allowed schoolchildren to tour the ship in exchange for funds they’d invested to keep the carrier active. Ted had often wondered why the Admiralty had never caught on. But then, the carrier had been out of sight and out of mind.
Until she was needed again, he thought, as his hand slipped away from the bulkhead. And now they need her more than ever.
“The drives are having real problems, Commander,” Anderson said, days later. “We’re overstressing both the regular drives and the modified Puller Drive. I think we’re at grave risk of losing the latter.”
Ted cursed under his breath. Losing the ship’s drives would be utterly disastrous, but he didn’t dare slow down. There were only a handful of hours before the aliens would pass through New Russia — assuming they had left when he’d calculated they’d get the message — and they had to be there first. He’d given the whole issue of bringing the aliens to battle a great deal of thought, but the only way to force them to engage was to be there first. There was no time for repairs.
“Take us through the tramline as soon as we reach it, then take the Puller Drive down completely,” he ordered. They didn’t need the alien modifications to get back to Earth, if they’d missed the alien fleet. “But we can’t deactivate the other drives.”
“So it would seem,” Anderson said. The Engineer exchanged glances with Commander Williams. Judging from the way they looked at each other, they’d probably planned the discussion beforehand — and it was not going according to plan. “Admiral….”
“We don’t have a choice,” Ted said. “If we fail now, we risk everything.”
Commander Williams stood upright. “Admiral,” she said, “I believe…”
Ted cut her off. “If you want to make a formal protest, Commander, you may do so,” he said. “I will note it in my log, which will be submitted before the formal Board of Inquiry into my actions. However, I believe we have no choice, but to take the risk.”
Her face twitched with suppressed anger. Ted briefly wondered if he should have sent her back to Earth instead. Commander Williams had been an up-and-coming officer, with a post on a modern carrier, before the aliens had proved that modern carriers were little better than target practice. She wasn’t inclined to accept risks Ted knew to be unavoidable. But then, the Old Lady had far more redundancy built into her than a modern carrier.
“I will log a formal protest,” she said, finally.
“Noted,” Ted said. He wondered if she’d realised that there were only two options; victory or defeat. If they won, the slate would be wiped clean; if they lost, they were screwed anyway. “We have only one more jump to make, Commander. Take up your station and prepare for transit.”
“I would prefer to be on the secondary bridge,” Commander Williams said. She hesitated. “Have you given any thought to tactical command of the flotilla?”
“Yes,” Ted said. He paused. “Why…?”
Commander Williams looked, for a long moment, as if she’d bitten into a lemon. “You have more command experience than myself,” she said. “I think you should take command of the ship.”
Ted eyed her, surprised. Had Captain Fitzwilliam told her to step aside if they managed to intercept the aliens? Or had she come up with it on her own? Or…
Technically, it was dereliction of duty. But she was right. He did have far more command experience with the ancient carrier. And this really wasn’t the time to learn.
“Take the secondary bridge, Commander,” Ted said, gently. He made a mental note to ensure her career didn’t suffer for her decision. “And then prepare for the final transit.”
The bridge felt almost like home, Ted reflected, as he took the command chair. It wasn’t the same being in the CIC, where there was a sense of detachment from the battle. Here, he sat at the nerve centre of his ship.
“Take us through the tramline,” he ordered.
He waited. For a moment, there was nothing… and then the universe darkened, as if he were about to sneeze. And then the entire ship shook so violently that he was half-convinced the Old Lady was coming apart at the seams. And then everything snapped back to normal.
“Admiral,” Anderson said, “we made it to New Russia, but we lost the Puller Drive. Completely. Even the human-designed systems have burned out.”