Ark Royal (2 page)

“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  Do you understand the outdated computer cores we have not been able to replace?  Do you realise that half our small craft component is actually outdated?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  There is very little standard about her, sir; her internal systems are a mixture of modern technology and outdated technology that cannot be replaced without tearing up the hull.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. 

And now there was an alien threat.  What sort of technology would
they
have?

“So far, the media has not caught wind of the threat,” the First Space Lord informed him, shortly.  “The Prime Minister and other world leaders has ordered a total blackout.  However, I do not expect that to last long.  Rumours are already flying around the datanet and it won’t be long before someone breaks the blackout.  It will certainly be broken when we start calling up reserves and conscripting civilians.

“Go back to your ship, taking your new XO with you,” he continued.  “Requisition whatever you need; I’ll do my best to make sure you have it.  If we’re lucky, this will all blow over, but I rather doubt it.”

Ted nodded in agreement.  The aliens had just attacked.  Unprovoked, as far as anyone knew, they’d just attacked – and not one colony, but four.  It suggested either unhealthy confidence or careful observation of humanity before opening fire.  Ted wouldn't have been surprised to discover that the aliens had surveyed the entire human sphere.  There was enough civilian traffic moving through interstellar space to conceal a handful of alien spy ships, if the aliens showed up on sensors at all.  Whatever the civilians might think, there was plenty of space between the planets to hide the entire human fleet.

They think they can win
, Ted thought.  He shivered at the thought.  Only a fool would start a war they didn't think they could win. 
What do they want
?

“Yes, sir,” he said, pushing his thoughts aside.  The prospect of actually taking his ship into harm’s way galvanised him.  “I won’t let you down.”

He rose to his feet and saluted, as smartly as he could.  Captain Fitzwilliam – no, he’d be a
Commander
now – followed, his face blank and unreadable.  Ted sighed, inwardly.  Fitzwilliam would have a major chip on his shoulder after being told he would be given command – and then watching as it was snatched away from him.  Ted wouldn't really
blame
him for being irked, but he couldn't afford the distraction of a sulking XO.  They would have to talk and hash it out, perhaps over a drink ...

No
, Ted told himself, firmly.  A drunkard could not take command of a ship that was going into action. 
That
was plain common sense. 
You are not going to drink until the war is over
.

Chapter Two

Captain James Montrose Fitzwilliam had to fight to keep his annoyance and disappointment from showing on his face as he followed his new commanding officer through the metallic corridors of Nelson Base.  It had seemed so perfect.  His uncle – a high-ranking officer – had known about the alert in time for James to attempt to push himself forward as
Ark Royal’s
commander.  A modern carrier would have required an officer with more experience – the old boy’s network went only so far – but
Ark Royal
didn't have such stringent requirements.  He could have taken command – and, in becoming the youngest commanding officer in the Royal Navy, ensured his swift promotion to command of a more modern starship.

But Commodore –
Captain
, he reminded himself – Smith had talked the Admiral into leaving
him
in command of
Ark Royal
.  The hell of it was, James knew, was that Smith might not be too far wrong.  James had served on two carriers and a frigate, but all three of them had been modern ships. 
Britannia
had barely been out of the slips when he'd served as her tactical officer.  But
Ark Royal
was over seventy years old.  She might well be harder to command than a more modern vessel.

Resentment bubbled at the corner of his mind, muted by the grim awareness that Smith might have saved him from embarrassment – or worse.  He wouldn't gain experience of serving as XO on a modern carrier if he served on
Ark Royal
– and he wouldn't gain command experience to offset the starship’s age.  His career might just have been frozen solid, as solid as Smith’s own ... and he'd done it to himself.  How could he reasonably blame Smith for wanting to keep command? 
He
wanted command!

They entered the shuttlebay and passed a handful of elaborate security checks before boarding the tiny ship.  Smith spoke briefly to the pilot, then settled back in his chair and closed his eyes.  James eyed him thoughtfully, wondering just what the older man was thinking.  Relief, perhaps, that he’d retained his command?  Or irritation at having a new XO thrust down his throat?  But then,
Ark Royal
hadn't had an official XO since she’d been placed in the reserves.  Smith had effectively been his own XO.

The shuttle quivered as it floated out of the shuttlebay and headed towards the naval reserve yards, where
Ark Royal
was waiting.  James couldn't help a flicker of excitement as he leaned forward, peering out the porthole for his first glimpse of the massive carrier.  Even if he wasn't going to take command, he would still be serving on her – and the first sight of a new starship was always special.  Dozens of other shuttles and tiny starships floated through Earth’s crowded orbital space, their sheer multitude a sign that something was badly wrong.  It was only a matter of time, James knew, before the news media discovered what was going on.  And then ...

He swallowed, feeling a curious tension at the base of his throat.  Unless it was all a big misunderstanding, they were going to be going to war – with aliens.  It was a staggering thought.  No one had anticipated aliens, not really.  The Royal Navy had confronted Chinese and Russian starships over brief disputes over mining and settlement rights, but there had been no major shooting war since the Puller Drive had been invented.  And yet ... he wondered, suddenly, just why so many resources had been poured into the military.  All of the major spacefaring powers had built up their navies, often at staggering cost.  Had they known there
was
a potential outside threat?

But humans aren't known for being peaceable
, he thought, snidely. 
If we didn't keep up with our defences, our human enemies would overwhelm us
.

The shuttle quivered again as
Ark Royal
came into view.  James sucked in his breath, drinking in the details; the giant carrier was larger than he’d realised ... and cruder.  The elegant lines of modern carriers – to say nothing of civilian starships – were missing.  Instead, she was a boxy hulk, studded with weapons and sensor blisters.  Four fighter launch tubes protruded out of her hull, each one wrapped in heavy armour. 
Ark Royal
was as much battleship as she was carrier, he recalled from the briefing notes.  The naval doctrine of her time had insisted that carriers had to be able to take damage as well as dish it out.  It was one of the reasons her rate of acceleration was so slow.

“Half of the weapons have been replaced over the years,” Smith said.  “Our tactical system had to be modified extensively just to handle them.”

James jumped.  He hadn't realised Smith was watching him.  The back of his neck heated as he turned to face his commanding officer, realising that he had no choice, but to do his job to the best of his ability.  Connections, no matter how highly placed, wouldn't be enough to save him if his commanding officer wrote a negative review.  And besides, he
had
asked for it.

“She’s magnificent, sir,” he said, and meant it.  “How well does she handle?”

“Like a wallowing pig,” Smith said.  “There aren’t many real improvements we could make to the drives without tearing the whole rear section apart and replacing them completely.”