The Trafalgar Gambit (Ark Royal) (35 page)

Kurt studied her for a long moment.  She looked ... less stressed than himself, although he knew
she
wasn't waiting nervously for another message from the blackmailers.  Their silence bothered him more than he cared to admit.   He wanted, desperately, to just have it come to an end, but he knew he had to wait.  There was nothing else he could do.

And he wanted to take her back to his office and screw her senseless.  He couldn't do that either.

“I think they should be capable of doing it,” Kurt said.  “The only problem will be keeping the aliens from realising what we’re doing until then.”

He paused as the pilots slowly filtered into the briefing compartment.  Most of them looked tired, their edges already dulled by the constant alert.  Four hours had passed since the alien starfighters had first shown themselves and nothing had changed, save for the pilots out covering the carrier against a sudden attack.  If the aliens had wanted to wear down the human fleet, Kurt had to admit, it was working magnificently.  And it wasn't costing them anything more than a handful of exhausted pilots.

Unless they have managed to extend their fighter range significantly
, he thought. 
We still haven't found their damn carrier
.

“All right, listen up,” he said, eying the pilots critically.  As always, they seemed uncomfortably young and slapdash to be military officers.  At some point, he told himself, they were probably going to have to discuss how best to wear a uniform with the survivors.  “This is going to take some damn fancy flying.”

He ran through the briefing quickly, then studied them all carefully.  “If you fuck this up, you will end up dead,” he said.  The pilots sobered.  Three of their friends were already dead, their bodies utterly beyond recovery.  “If any of you want to back out, now is the time.”

No one said a word.

“Good,” Kurt said.  “Man your planes!”

He turned back to look at Rose.  “Watch our backs, ok?”

Rose nodded.  “Of course,” she said, primly.  “Isn’t that my job?”

***

“They’re still probing the edge of our sensor range,” Janelle said.

“Good,” Ted said.  His one worry had been that the aliens would change their tactics before the humans were ready to launch their own operation.  “Is
Blackburn
in position?”

“Aye, Admiral,” Janelle said.  “And the remaining squadrons are launching now.”

Ted nodded.  “Order the pilots to execute the first stage in” – he glanced at the display – “five minutes.”

He leaned back in his chair and waited while the seconds ticked away.  Timing was everything, all the more so as no one was quite sure just how capable the alien sensors actually were.  They were good, according to the analysts, but
how
good?  The only real data he had came from how the aliens had reacted to the ECM drones.  They’d rarely been fooled for long, yet they
had
been fooled.

“Admiral,” Janelle said.  “The first stage is commencing ... now.”

Ted watched, dispassionately, as three squadrons of starfighters suddenly spun around and charged right at the alien starfighters, their sensors rapidly hunting for targets.  The aliens started, then fell into a series of evasive manoeuvres that suggested they were unwilling to risk an engagement at such long odds.  Ted hoped that was a good sign.  If the aliens were feeling sensitive to potential losses, he thought, they were clearly worn down by the fighting too.

“They’re moving back out of range,” Janelle reported.  “The starfighters are pushing them back.”

“Good,” Ted said.  “Execute Phase Two.”

***

“All right,” Kurt said, as he watched his comrades charging the alien starfighters.  “Follow my lead.”

HMS
Blackburn
was ugly enough to make
Ark Royal
look pretty – and indeed, the ancient carrier had a stubborn grace that the heavily-modified freighter couldn't match.  She was nothing more than two hundred meters of blocky shapeless hull, studded with a handful of sensor blisters and weapons.  Her true striking power came in the two squadrons of starfighters she carried to support
Ark Royal
.  Kurt had barely a handful of seconds to admire the escort carrier before his starfighter latched onto her hull.

“Sound off,” he ordered, as the remaining pilots docked.  He listened as, one by one, they confirmed they were docked to the ship’s hull.  “And now we wait.  Maintain radio silence.”

He sucked in his breath.  If they were lucky, if everything had gone according to plan, the aliens wouldn't have seen them docking with the escort carrier.  They’d see the carrier as carrying nothing more than its onboard fighters, half of which were currently taking part in the attempt to force the alien starfighters to fight.  And that was what the Admiral was counting on.

His starfighter shivered, slightly, as
Blackburn
fell out of formation and headed towards the rear of the flotilla.  A frigate moved towards it, then apparently changed its mind – or had it changed by the Admiral.  Kurt hoped the aliens believed
Blackburn
to be heading back to Earth, back down the series of tramlines.  They had to view the carrier as a tempting target, he knew. 
He
would certainly have considered it a prime target ...

And now we wait
, he thought, as the carrier kept moving. 
And pray.

***

“The aliens have broken contact,” Janelle reported.  “Our starfighters are requesting orders.”

“Tell them to return to the flotilla,” Ted ordered.  The aliens would have a free shot at
Blackburn
– or so it would seem.  But what if they refused to take the bait?  “And then tell
Blackburn
to continue with her operation until Simon Says otherwise.”

“Aye, sir,” Janelle said.  There was a long pause as the starfighters rocketed back towards the carrier.  “The aliens are filtering back again.”

And what
, Ted asked his unknown counterpart silently,
are you thinking?  Are you interested in taking a free shot at a makeshift carrier or are you more concerned with monitoring the flotilla?

“I’m picking up nineteen alien fighters watching us, but a number seem to be headed towards
Blackburn
,” Janelle said, carefully.  “I can't get a precise figure on just how many of them there are, sir.”

“Then launch two more probes towards their point of origin,” Ted ordered.  He cursed under his breath.  The beancounters would make a terrible fuss when they realised just how many probes he’d fired off in less than a day.  But it was easier to replace probes, no matter how expensive they were, than pilots.  “They
have
to have a carrier nearby.”

He glanced at the ship’s status board and cursed again.  The crew were well-trained and
very
experienced, after two deep-penetration missions into alien space, but it was clear that tiredness was already beginning to bite.  Captain Fitzwilliam was rotating crew through sleep machines as much as possible, yet they didn't dare reduce their number of active crewmembers below a certain level.  It would end badly.

We need to slap them back
, he thought. 
And convince them to keep their distance
.

***

Twenty-two fighters
, Kurt thought, as the alien starfighters flashed towards
Blackburn
.  It was clear they intended to blow the escort carrier away in the first attack, then return to harassing
Ark Royal
.  But they were in for a nasty surprise, he told himself firmly.  If they kept coming in at that speed, they wouldn't be able to escape before his pilots tore into them.

He counted down the seconds, then triggered his starfighter’s drives, pushing the ship away from the escort carrier.  The aliens seemed to flinch as the remainder of his squadron followed him, but it was definitely too late to escape.  Space filled with plasma bursts as the humans opened fire, lashing the aliens back from the carrier and blowing seven alien craft out of space before they even had a chance to fire back.  And then the aliens returned fire.

“Keep evading,” he snapped, throwing radio silence to the winds.  There was no point in trying to hide any longer.  “Don’t give them a chance to draw a bead on you!”

His starfighter spun, then blew another alien fighter into vapour.  But the aliens had recovered now and picked off two human fighters in quick succession.  Kurt cursed under his breath, knowing that losses would be fairly even from this point until the inexperience of his pilots made itself felt.  An alien pilot drew a bead on him, then lost contact as another human pilot blew him into dust.  And then the aliens were suddenly retreating at high speed, leaving the humans behind. 

Odd
, Kurt thought. 
They must be closer to their sources of replenishment than us
.

He scowled at the thought.  It would take weeks to get replacement starfighters to
Ark Royal
, assuming the Royal Navy or anyone else had starfighters to send.  He assumed the aliens had bases far closer to the flotilla; hell, they might well have some starfighters assigned to Target One or Target Two they could call on.  But instead ... the aliens were definitely worried about losses.  It was interesting, to say the least, and indicative of something.  He just wished he knew what.

“Simon Says
Blackburn
is to return to the flotilla,” the Admiral ordered.  “I say again, Simon Says
Blackburn
is to return to the flotilla.”

Kurt nodded.  Simon Says was an old trick, one used when there was a good chance the enemy was listening in on allied communications.  Using it against the aliens seemed pointless, if only because the aliens couldn't understand human words.  But the diplomats
had
been making progress, he reminded himself.  The hostile aliens might have made
more
progress if they’d had human prisoners to work with, just like Prince Henry.  And they might have been less reluctant to use torture to force the prisoners to talk.

He set his starfighter to return to
Ark Royal
and concentrated on monitoring the remainder of the battle.  It looked as though the aliens had fallen back completely, but it was difficult to be sure.  They might just have other ships shadowing the carrier ...

“Await orders,” a new voice said, as they returned to the flotilla.  “We may have found something interesting.”

“Understood,” Kurt said.  The enemy carrier?  Or what?  “We will hold position and wait.”

***

Ted leaned forward, fascinated despite himself.  “What the hell is that?”

“The analysts think it’s an in-flight refuelling craft,” Janelle said.  “The pre-space militaries used to use something like it for jet fighters.  I don’t think anyone ever considered using it for starfighters, not until now.”

“Clever,” Ted said.  “Very clever.”

He shook his head in amused disbelief.  The alien craft wasn't much larger than a standard shuttle, which was partly why it hadn't been detected until one of the probes had gotten lucky.  But it was clearly capable of carrying enough power cells and life support packs to allow the alien starfighters to recycle and return to the battle without needing to go through a massive carrier.  He had to admire the ingenuity of the concept.  The aliens had developed a way of deploying starfighters away from planetary bases without a carrier.

But it was also an opportunity.  No matter how fast they flew, the alien starfighters were more than nine hours from the closest inhabited world in the system.  Without that tanker, he told himself, they would never get home.

“Pass the word to the starfighters,” he ordered.  “I want that thing taken out.”

“Aye, sir,” Janelle said.