That had been hair-raising for the naval personal, although he’d been fairly sure that few of the reporters had understood just how much the danger was increasing.  The aliens wouldn't launch an attack while the flotilla was nesting within the tramline, if only because the humans ships would simply trigger their drives and jump out.  No, he knew, they’d wait until the humans were well away from any means of escape before attacking.  But no attack had materialised.  Had the aliens thought Ark Royal wasn't going to New Russia after all?  Or was the main body of their fleet off trashing Britannia, Washington ... or Earth?

It was one of his private nightmares.  Ark Royal might attack New Russia, she might even drive the aliens away from New Russia ... and then return home to discover that the aliens had torn Earth apart.  Maybe the human race knew, now, that the aliens weren't invincible.  They still packed one hell of a punch.

Barbie caught his arm.  “It's so slow,” she protested.  “Why didn't you go closer before opening fire?”

James swallowed the response that came to mind.  “The aliens might have detected us,” he said, instead.  The problem with modern depictions of space combat, he knew, was that they were fast.  Instead of long hours of boredom, there were hours of constant excitement.  “We decided to fire from extreme range instead.”

“But they could move,” Barbie said, slowly.  “They might not be there when your shots arrive.”

“That’s true,” James said, in some surprise.  He wouldn't have expected Barbie to reason that much out; hell, he was mildly surprised she could even tie her own shoelaces.  “But it’s a risk we have to take.”

He sighed, inwardly, as the reporters turned back to look at the display.  Civilian politicians wanted to minimise risk as much as possible, but military officers knew that some risks just had to be accepted.  Besides, it wasn't as if the projectiles cost anything.  A few hours alongside an asteroid and the carrier could replenish its stockpiles without particular difficulty.

None of the reporters looked very good, he noted, with a certain amount of malice.  They'd been up since Ark Royal had entered the system, remaining awake out of fear of missing something interesting.  Hell, even James and the Captain had made time for catnaps, while the starfighter pilots had each spent an hour in the sleep machines.  They’d regret it later, James suspected, but it would keep them alert for the moment.  But the reporters ... it didn't even seem to have occurred to them that they all had access to the datanet.  If they missed something personally, they could review it before Ark Royal returned to Earth.

A chime sounded.  He looked up at the display, worried.  Four new red icons had entered the system from an unexpected direction.

“Four ships, unknown class,” Farley reported.  “Temporary designation; Alien-Six.  All ships are heading towards the planet.”