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Chapters (42)
  1. Cover Blurb
  2. Contents
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty

Moments later, the starfighter lurched as it was shoved back into the battle.

***

“The starfighters are down to three squadrons worth of starfighters,” Farley said, quietly.

Ted nodded.  Only three frigates remained intact and largely undamaged, allowing the aliens to concentrate their efforts on Ark Royal herself.  The repairs they’d carried out had made it harder for the alien pilots to get into range, but not impossible.  Ted had deduced that the aliens had no tradition of actually repairing their ships outside a shipyard, as the alien pilots seemed to have assumed that weapons damaged or destroyed at New Russia hadn't been replaced.  And they were still thirty minutes from Tramline Two.

“Understood,” he said.  They needed time to recuperate, then reorganise their squadrons.  The CAG had done an excellent job, but the pilots needed more guidance than could be provided in the middle of a battle.  “And our mass drivers?”

“Down to one-third projectiles,” Farley said.  “We haven’t scored a single hit.”

“I know,” Ted said.  “But keep firing.”

He scowled.  The aliens were aware of the danger now and were taking precautions, even if it meant withholding some of their starfighters from the swarms tearing the human fleet apart.  They'd come close to scoring a hit on the other carrier, but there was no such thing as proximity damage where mass drivers and inert projectiles were concerned.  They either scored a hit or they didn't.  There was no middle ground.  But, he told himself, if they kept spitting projectiles towards the carrier,  the aliens would be forced to keep some of their starfighters back to cover their ship ...

The only consolation, he told himself, is that we wiped out six of their frigates with nukes.

Farley swore, suddenly.  “Sir, the Rubicon ...”

Ted blinked, then stared at the display.  The Italian frigate was lurching out of formation, her drives spluttering madly ... but she didn't seem to be damaged.  Beside her, the French and German frigates followed, altering course until they were plunging back towards the onrushing alien ships.  Ted stared, not understanding – at first – what he was seeing.  And then the frigates opened fire.  Their weapons seemed puny compared to the alien energy cannons ...

“They’ll be in range of the plasma gun,” Fitzwilliam said, in shocked disbelief.  One of the alien frigates glowed, then vanished from the display.  The German frigate followed moments later, blown apart by a direct hit from the battlecruiser.  “Call them back!”

Ted shook his head.  The French and Italian crewmen were committed now, he knew.  There was no way they could reverse course again and escape before it was too late.  He watched, torn between horror and respect, as the Italian frigate and the remaining alien frigate killed each other ... and the French frigate rammed the alien carrier directly.  Both starships vanished in a colossal explosion.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Dear God,” Farley said, very quietly.