Christopher Nuttall: Ark Royal

“There have been developments,” Smith said, quietly. He briefly ran through what the Admiral had told them, ending with the statement that Ark Royal was going to return to active service. “We have a month — perhaps less — to ready ourselves for combat.”

“Aliens,” Anderson repeated. “Not another race of Alien Space Bats, I hope?”

James had to smile. The Alien Space Bats had been a hoax, perpetrated by bored asteroid miners years ago, back when humanity hadn't yet left the Sol System. By the time the miners had finally confessed to the hoax, countless academics had been taken in and wasted thousands of hours trying to make contact with the enigmatic aliens. The affair had dented so many otherwise reputable careers that many scientists had refused to believe it when spacers had reported discovering non-intelligent life forms on several extra-solar worlds.

“There have been deaths,” Smith said. “And it isn't just us. Every spacefaring power is bringing its military to full alert.”

There was a long pause as they contemplated the end of peace. James knew that MI6 knew the strengths and weaknesses of the other human interstellar powers… but they knew nothing about the enigmatic alien threat. Unless he’d been right, he told himself, and enough people had known to start preparing the human race for contact. And yet… surely the secret would have leaked out by now. Humanity’s governments were very poor at keeping secrets.

“We should have our new crewmen assigned to us within the week,” Smith said, before anyone could start discussing the potential nature of the threat. “Once we do, I want to move ahead with a full rejuvenation of the ship.” He looked over at Anderson. “We’ll go with Option Alpha, I think, and concentrate on our war-fighting capabilities first.”

“Understood,” Anderson said, gruffly. “We will need to clear the launch bays before we can start taking on new fighters.”

“It may be a while before we get them,” Smith said. “They’ll all have to be removed from storage and checked out before they’re sent to us.”

James blinked in surprise. The carrier had no fighters?

“They might send us the older models,” Farley suggested. “I don’t think that many of the newer carriers could handle them.”

“We will check it out,” Smith said. He looked from face to face. “This isn't a drill, but a real situation. We — the entire human race — are going to war with a threat of unknown power and motivation. All we really know about them is that they’re hostile. I expect each and every one of you to do your duty.”

“Of course, sir,” Anderson said. He patted the table affectionately. “The old lady will do her duty too.”

Smith smiled. “Of course she will,” he agreed. He stood, then paused. “As yet, there has been no formal announcement of the situation. I imagine that will change, soon enough, but until then please don’t mention it in your v-mails. It would be inconvenient to have to break you out of prison.”

James had to smile at the weak joke, although he knew that Smith was right. It wouldn't be long before word got out — and, once it did, there would be panic. No wonder the Admiral had wanted to get as much done as possible before the news hit the media datanet. But something would definitely leak once the reserves were called up…

Of course it will , he thought, tartly. The reserves haven’t been called up for anything other than mandatory training in years .

Smith waited for the officers to leave the compartment, then turned to James. “I want you to familiarise yourself as quickly as possible with the crew and our internal systems,” he ordered, shortly. “Once we get the first set of reservists, I want you to handle their integration into the ship’s crew. My current set of officers will have seniority, regardless of actual time served. We can’t afford unpractised officers trying to take command, not now.”

“Understood,” James said, recognising the unspoken warning. He was an unpractised officer, at least on Ark Royal . There was no alternative, but to study the ship as quickly as possible and figure out just what improvements had been made to the original systems. “I won’t let you down.”

“But it wasn't my fault!”

Kurt Schneider gritted his teeth as he drove away from the school, silently cursing his teenage daughter under his breath. It was her fault, he knew, that he had been summoned out of work early just to hear the headteacher explain, in great detail, precisely why Penny had been summarily suspended from school for two weeks. And then — and then — he’d been warned that if her behaviour didn't improve, she would be permanently expelled and forced to find another school.

“It really wasn't,” Penny whined. “I didn't mean to get into a fight…”

“You told your teacher that she was a right stupid cow,” Kurt growled. The recording of the whole incident had been shocking. “And your headteacher was quite right to say your behaviour was unacceptable.”

“But she kept changing the rules,” Penny insisted. “I…”

“Shut up,” Kurt snapped, massaging his temples. It had been a long day even before the call had come from school. “When we get home, we are going to have a proper talk about your conduct.”

Penny snorted, crossed her arms under her breasts and stared out the window, sulking in a pose that was as old as humanity itself. Kurt glared at her, wondering just when his sweet little daughter had become a monster, then turned his attention back to the road. If his wife hadn't thought that Polly — and her brother Percy — deserved an expensive education, they wouldn't be forced into pointless classes… and he wouldn't have to work such long hours just to keep them in school. He loved his children, really he did, but he wasn't in the mood to put up with an argument.

She didn't say a word until he finally pulled up outside the house, whereupon she jumped out of the car and flounced inside, no doubt hoping to get her side of the story over to her mother first. Kurt sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment of rest, then opened the door and climbed out of the car. Inside, he could already hear Molly shouting at her daughter. His wife didn't sound pleased at all. She’d yell at Penny… and then, Kurt knew, she’d yell at him. It was funny how his daughter became his sole responsibility whenever she was in trouble.

Sighing, he walked up the garden path and into the house. Molly stood in the kitchen, her hands on her hips, glaring menacingly at Penny, who was shouting back at her. It struck Kurt, not for the first time, that Penny was very much a younger version of her mother, complete with blonde hair and a powerful pair of lungs. Kurt sighed again, then blinked in surprise as Molly marched over to him and shoved a piece of paper into his hand. It was a printout of a email, he realised, as he unfolded it and read quickly. And it was calling him back to duty.

“You are grounded for the next two weeks,” Molly snarled at Penny. “Go to your room and stay there!”

Penny didn't go quietly. Kurt heard her stamping up the stairs, then slamming the door to her bedroom hard enough to shake the house. He ignored it with the ease of long practice as he reread the sheet of paper. The Royal Navy wanted him back in the service, as soon as possible.

“Well?” Molly demanded. “What’s all this about?”

Kurt gritted his teeth, again. His head was already pounding and her razor-sharp words were cutting through what remained of his composure. The message didn't leave any room for evasion, he realised dully. He was ordered to report to the nearest naval base at once or face the consequences. And those consequences could be quite serious.