“It’s possible,” Ted considered.  Humanity had used ECM drones against the aliens with some success.  There was no reason why the aliens couldn't use ECM drones themselves.  It even made a certain kind of sense.  Rather than tie up several starships hunting for a carrier that might already have been destroyed, the aliens could leave a handful of drones in place and rely on their presence to keep the carrier intimidated.  “But we will not take the risk.”

He looked over at the helmsman.  “Signal the fleet,” he ordered.  “We will proceed to Tramline Two in ten minutes.”

A dull quiver ran through the carrier as her drives slowly came to life.  If there was an alien fleet lying doggo, Ted knew, they might well pick up the carrier’s emissions, even if they were rigged for silent running.  But the alternative was staying where they were for months, even years, while the war raged on countless light years away.  No, they had to take the chance, he told himself.  And at least they’d had time to do more repairs.

Score one for the Old Lady’s designers, he thought.  All military starships were modular, despite the best efforts of some of their designers, but Ark Royal was more modular than any modern carrier.  Replacing the damaged or destroyed weapons hadn't taken more than a few days, although their supplies of spare parts had been stripped to the bone.  We could launch a long-range raid into enemy territory with only a handful of ships in support.

“All systems online,” Anderson reported.  The Chief Engineer sounded tired, but happy.  Ted and Fitzwilliam had practically dragged him into a sleep machine, just to ensure that the engineer got a few hours rest before the carrier started to move.  “Our repairs are looking good, Captain.”

“I knew they would be,” Ted assured him.  The other advantage of commanding the older carrier was that it’s technology was well understood by its users.  There was nothing radically new on her hull, nor would there ever be.  “And our weapons?”

“Powered up, ready to engage targets,” Fitzwilliam said.  “Our starfighters are ready to launch; point defence crews are standing by.”

Just in case there is a prowling enemy carrier, Ted thought.  “Excellent,” he said, instead.  “And the fleet?”

“Ready to go,” Fitzwilliam assured him.  “Kiev is ready to carry out her duty.”

Ted settled back in his command chair.  “Then take us out,” he ordered.  “Inform Kiev that she may make the jump as soon as we reach the tramline.”