“Fast buggers,” Fitzwilliam’s voice said.  “I don’t think we could match them.”

“True,” Ted agreed.  The alien carriers didn't seem to have a better acceleration rate that a modern human carrier – which still gave them an edge over Ark Royal – but the alien battlecruisers definitely had the highest acceleration rate ever recorded.  It would be tricky for a human ship to match it, at least without heavy reengineering.  But it was clear that they were going to have to do just that, sooner rather than later.  “Calculate prospective intercept vectors.”

He ran through them in his head, then checked them against the computer.  The larger alien ships were unlikely to run them down until they crossed the tramline, but the smaller fighters would definitely try to slow them down.  Even if they hadn't improved their weaponry, Ted knew he couldn't rule out the prospect of a lucky shot ... or, for that matter, the simple destruction of his ship’s ability to shoot back.  Once they’d stripped Ark Royal of her defences, they would allow the bigger ships to catch up and blow his carrier apart.

“Enemy fighters will enter intercept range in ten minutes,” Farley warned.

And if they had mass drivers, they would have used them by now, Ted told himself.  He hoped, desperately, that he was right.  A single direct hit with a mass driver would smash his ship like an eggshell.

“Launch fighters at the seven minute mark,” Ted ordered.  That should give his pilots enough time to launch and get into intercept position.  “Hold the bombers for the moment.”

Silently, he cursed the decision not to build any more Ark Royal-class carriers ... or even makeshift escort carriers.  He didn't have the starfighters to cover both his hull and escort the bombers to their targets, while the aliens – with their multirole fighters – had no trouble doing both.  Maybe he should have pleaded with the Admiralty to assign additional modern carriers to the flotilla ... but he knew they would have refused.  The modern carriers, once the queens of space, were now too vulnerable to be easily risked.

“Aye, sir,” Farley said.  “Fighters are primed now.”

“Use one of the drones to try to raise the planet,” Ted ordered.  If the Russians had any form of passive sensors left in orbit – or even simple ground-based telescopes – they'd know that someone was attacking the occupation force.  And there was definitely no point in trying to hide now.  “Transmit the pre-recorded message and wait for a reply.”

Until the drone is destroyed, he thought, absently.  The planners might not have realised it, but the moment the drone started transmitting its signal, the aliens would know precisely where it was lurking.  They’d send a starfighter to vaporise it within minutes.  But at least the Russians on the ground, assuming they still have a radio receiver, would know that they weren't alone.

But they’d also know that the human raiders had retreated.