Christopher Nuttall - Ark Royal

Commander Fitzwilliam studied the map for a long moment. “What happened to New Russia?”

“We don’t know,” the First Space Lord confessed. “But we’re not optimistic.”

“They might have wiped out most of the population,” Ted said, softly. New Russia wasn't anything like as developed as Earth, but it would still be easy for the aliens to wipe out the settlements from orbit. “Or they might have destroyed the orbital defences and moved onwards.”

“We don’t know,” the First Space Lord repeated.

He looked up, meeting Smith’s eyes. “I confess I had my doubts about Ark Royal ,” he admitted, keeping his voice so quiet that Smith had to strain to hear him. “The ship seemed a waste of resources, nothing more than a dumping ground for crew we couldn't be bothered to sack. Now… she might be our salvation.”

Ted swallowed. Ark Royal was effectively unique, the only carrier with such heavy armour — let alone primitive weapons. It would take years to modify the yards to produce new armoured ships, unless the boffins came up with a new form of ablative armour that could be rapidly applied to the modern carriers. If Ark Royal were to be lost… but there was no alternative, at least as far as he could see. The carrier was the only effective weapon humanity had.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, finally.

“You are to depart within two days,” the First Space Lord added. He picked a datachip off his desk and passed it to Ted, who took it carefully. “Your crew can send the usual messages, but make sure they know that they will be vetted and censored, if necessary. We don’t want to panic the civilians.”

“Understood,” Ted said. “Will any other ships be joining us?”

“It depends on international affairs,” the First Space Lord said. “Right now, they’re still stunned. They have to get through the recrimination stage before they start thinking what to actually do about the situation.”

Ted nodded. It had been bare hours since the news had reached Earth. By now, world leaders would have been briefed and were struggling to come to terms with the news from New Russia. It wouldn't be long before the news leaked out, not with so many people already aware of it. And then there would be panic…

“Thank you, sir,” he said, again. “We won’t let you down.”

James mentally replayed everything he’d seen and heard in the briefing as the shuttle carried them back to Ark Royal . If he’d managed to get himself assigned to one of the modern carriers, he told himself, he might well have ensured his own death. The details of the battle suggested, very strongly, that there were no actual survivors. He’d known friends and family who had served in the unified defence fleet. Those people were dead… or alien prisoners, POWs trapped light years from friendly territory. Would the aliens even bother to take prisoners? There was no way to know.

“Call the senior officers for a briefing,” Captain Smith ordered, as soon as the shuttle had landed in the shuttlebay. “And then put the entire ship under a communications barrier. I don’t want anyone sending a message home, not yet.”

James nodded and started to work, grateful for the distraction. He hadn't woken any of the other senior officers when they’d left the ship — the watch crew were the only ones awake — but he could see to that now. Once he’d woken them, he contacted the communications department and ordered them to hold all personal messages. The only ones allowed out of the ship would be priority messages from the senior crew.

“The war situation has taken a turn for the worse,” Captain Smith said, as soon as the senior officers had gathered in the briefing room. “New Russia has fallen to the enemy.”

He ran through everything they’d been told, then showed the images from the battle. The senior officers stared in disbelief; by any reasonable standard, the battle had been hellishly short. Humanity didn't have much experience at space warfare, but simulations suggested that battles should take longer.

“Their starfighters seem to be less capable than ours, excepting the stealth and their weapons,” Schneider observed, finally. “Their stealth systems can’t be perfect or they would use them all the time.”

James couldn't disagree. He’d watched enough bad movies where the enemy weapons fire had seemed to come out of nowhere to know that it was a viable tactic, if the technology could be made to work. But the aliens had deactivated their stealth before engaging the human carriers, even though keeping it would have given them a decisive advantage. No, the systems couldn't be perfect… unless, of course, the aliens thought that going in without stealth was honourable. But who knew how aliens might think?

“We will study all of the records during the trip,” the Captain said. “Our orders are to engage the enemy in this system.”

He ran through their orders and the rationale behind them. “I know that these orders are a gamble,” he added, “but I see no alternative. We will power up our systems this afternoon, then leave tomorrow. Prior to then, I want all section heads to brief their subordinates, then remind them to write wills and record final messages. Please also remind them that the censors will have a look at them first.”

James had to smile. The crew wasn't stupid, they'd know better than to say anything too revealing. But there were plenty of messages they could send that shouldn’t be shared any further, certainly not with a bureaucratic asshole just looking for something he could use to pretend he was doing something useful.

“If there is anything else you need,” he concluded, “I want you to request it by the end of the day. We should have priority shipping for anything we want — as long as we can get it before our departure time. If not… it will just have to wait for us.”

There was a long pause. “Dismissed!”

James lifted an eyebrow as Schneider caught his eye, then nodded and waited for the room to clear before speaking to the CAG. “Yes?”

“Sir, one of my pilots had a… friend on Formidable ,” Schneider said. “She probably won’t be the only one to have someone missing, perhaps dead. Do you want me to talk to her?”

James hesitated. As XO, it was his duty to see to it… but Schneider was definitely closer to his pilots. And besides, she almost certainly wasn't the only one to have a friend on the destroyed ships.

“Yes, please,” he said, finally. He’d have to check the records, but they rarely showed anything more than relatives. Someone might hear about their dead friend from the general ship-wide announcement. “And if you feel she needs further counselling, please inform me.”

Schneider nodded and left the briefing room. James watched him go, then reached for his terminal. There would have been to be a general announcement before they powered up the drives for the first time… after praying desperately for success. James knew far too well just how tricky it would be to replace the fusion cores if they failed — it would take months, at the very least.

And by then humanity could very well have lost the war.

Kurt had to admit that, after a great deal of grumbling, his pilots had managed to sort out the squadron bunking in a suitable manner. Their quarters had been cleaned, new bedding had been installed and there were even a small collection of reading devices, although the latter had barely been touched between endless exercises and napping. Once they’d set up a working simulator, he’d kept his pilots too busy to do anything else.

There were no barriers offering any form of privacy, even when male and female pilots were sharing the same territory. Body modesty was rare among naval crewmen — and besides, pilots were not supposed to show any untoward interest in one another. Kurt had known that relationships happened a long time before he met Rose — and he’d actually had second thoughts about allowing mixed quarters — but he trusted her to behave herself. But now…