Christopher Nuttall - Ark Royal

“…Shit,” Ted said.

The Vulcan Protocols had been a theoretical study, nothing more. They harked back to a time when alien contact and interstellar war was seen as a very real possibility. In theory, the human race — or at least the major spacefaring powers — was obliged to unite in defence of humanity, putting all grudges aside. Ted rather suspected that it wouldn't be that easy to actually make it happen in practice.

“We will, of course, hope for a diplomatic solution,” the First Space Lord said. “However, we are currently preparing for the worst. How long will it take before Ark Royal is ready for deployment, assuming an unlimited budget and workforce?”

That was something Ted had worked on ever since he’d been promoted into the command chair, no matter how meaningless it had seemed. “Two weeks if we cut corners, four if we take it slowly,” he said. “But the crew would have to be experienced.”

Captain Fitzwilliam gaped at him. “ Four weeks?”

Ted laughed. “Do you think that I spend my days engaging in rum, sodomy and the lash?”

The First Space Lord nodded. “I am pleased to hear that your time on the vessel has not been wasted,” he said. “However, it is felt that someone new should take command of Ark Royal .”

Ted felt cold ice trickling down his spine as he realised where this was leading. “Captain Fitzwilliam will assume command of Ark Royal ,” the First Space Lord informed him. “You will supervise the refitting and then…”

The ice flashed into anger. Ted had served on Ark Royal for forty-four years. He was familiar with every last inch of her decks — and with every new component his skeleton crew had installed over the years. Their surprise at the short time it would need to have the ship prepped for service was quite understandable… but they didn't realise that he hadn't spent his time drunk out of his mind. No, he'd been keeping the old girl as close to readiness as possible. They hadn't even been paying attention to the supplies he’d requisitioned over the years!

“No,” he said, simply.

The First Space Lord lifted his eyebrows. It was a breach of military formality to interrupt one’s superior, unless it was a matter of life and death.

Ted turned to face Captain Fitzwilliam, fighting to keep his voice even. “Are you familiar with the modifications we have made to our Mark-IV normal space drive? Are you aware of the problems in flying Buccaneer bombers off the flight decks? Do you understand the outdated computer cores we have not been able to replace? Do you realise that half our small craft component is actually outdated? Do you understand the limitations of our onboard weapons systems?”

He looked back at the First Space Lord. “I'm sure that Captain Fitzwilliam is a fine officer,” he said, knowing that he would either secure his career or destroy it. “But he hasn't trained on anything remotely comparable to Ark Royal . There is very little standard about her, sir; her internal systems are a mixture of modern technology and outdated technology that cannot be replaced without tearing up the hull. Are you aware, for example, that we cannot mount a modern sensor node on the hull? When switched to active mode, they will blind her inner systems. We actually have to use sensor probes and outriders to expand our sensor range.”

“That’s absurd,” Captain Fitzwilliam protested. “What sort of system would be designed to blind its carrier?”

“It isn't,” Ted assured him. “A modern carrier wouldn't have a problem. Ark Royal , however, was designed as a solid-state entity. She was built to survive . We cannot replace the older systems without tearing the hull wide open, which would take far longer than four weeks. We'd be looking at nine months, at best.”

He smiled at the younger man. “Still feel like you can take command of my ship?”

Captain Fitzwilliam’s face darkened, but he held his temper. Ted was privately impressed. He had no illusions about what navy scuttlebutt said about him; it was unlikely in the extreme that any young officer would look up to him as someone to be emulated. It was rather more likely that they considered his career to be a nightmare. Someone edging towards squadron or fleet command would be horrified at the idea of spending forty-four years on the same ship. It wasn't the mark of a promising officer.

“You’ve made your point,” the First Space Lord said. “But four weeks is a rather short time for a complete refit.”

“I should have sent you flypaper reports,” Ted said, remembering one of the classes they’d shared at Portsmouth. An officer, pestered for paperwork he didn't have, had started sending reports on the number of flies killed by flypaper while on deployment. The whole episode had been used as a warning of the dangers of too much bureaucracy. “Didn't anyone ever read my reports?”

He shook his head a moment later. The only ship considered less likely to go into battle was Lord Nelson’s Victory , which was — technically — the First Space Lord’s flagship. But as Victory was a sailing ship, it was unlikely the First Space Lord had spent any time on her since the commission. She normally served as a tourist attraction.

“I will take your word for it,” the First Space Lord said. His tone suggested that if it took longer than four weeks to get Ark Royal ready for deployment, Ted could start looking for a new job. “Captain Fitzwilliam will serve as your XO.”

Ted swallowed a curse — and, beside him, Captain Fitzwilliam didn't look any happier. For one of them, there would be an XO looking for a place to plant the knife; for the other, there was an effective demotion. There was only one Captain on a starship and it wouldn't be Fitzwilliam. Unless, of course, Ted failed to make good on his boast. Silently, he promised himself that he would read through Captain Fitzwilliam’s file as soon as possible. He didn't even know the man's first name!

“Thank you, sir,” he said, finally. “Might I enquire as to deployment plans?”

“The UN Security Council is meeting in emergency session,” the First Space Lord said. he jerked a finger towards the deck — and Earth, far below. “For the moment, the Admiralty is concentrating on protecting Britannia and contributing to the defence of Earth. We assume that we will be making future deployments once the Vulcan Protocols are fully activated, but as yet we don’t have any details.”

Ted nodded. Britannia was Britain’s largest possession, a colony world with over a billion settlers from Earth. The British Commonwealth had worked hard to both settle the planet and build up local industry, taking advantage of the latest UN environmental regulations to encourage corporations and private individuals to move to Britannia. There was no way the Government would leave the planet uncovered, even if it meant drawing ships away from Earth. Indeed, Ted had been surprised that Ark Royal hadn't been moved to Britannia long ago.

There were other colonies, including a handful of mining settlements and a stake on an Earth-like world that might become a second colony soon enough, but Britannia was too important to lose. The Royal Navy stationed seven of its twelve modern carriers in the system permanently, while the other five were never far away. It seemed unlikely that anyone could break through the defences and take the planet.

He scowled. Humanity hadn't really fought an interstellar war. Sure, there had been the skirmishes between Edo and Ghandi, or the confrontation between Washington and Confucius over a third system, but nothing that had broken out into general war. Hell, there were even agreements that Earth and the Sol System would remain neutral if war actually did break out. No one really knew how the latest military technology would work in open warfare. There were simulations and exercises, but they were never as useful as the real thing.