He pushed the exultation aside and began to think, mentally outlining the operational plan for the deployment.  There were too many unknowns for him to be entirely comfortable, even though he relished the challenge.  They knew nothing about the interior of the alien starship or how the aliens would respond to a boarding party.  The Royal Navy’s protocols called for the compromised compartments to be sealed off, then counterattacks mounted by the Marines and armed crewmen.  But no one had ever tried to handle a counterattack outside drills few took very seriously.  Did the aliens take their drills seriously?

“They're sweeping space for threats,” he said, after a moment.  “How do you intend to get the shuttles though their defences?”

“By giving them a threat,” the Captain said, grimly.  “Ark Royal will reveal herself here” – he tapped a point on the display – “and launch starfighters on attack vector.  I believe they will focus all of their sensors on us so they can detect incoming projectiles.  But we don’t dare move towards them too aggressively.”

Charles understood.  If the alien craft wanted to break contact, it could ... and the humans would be unable to escape their shadow.  They could start running back up the chain towards Vera Cruz, only to run into the alien reinforcements on the way.  But the aliens wouldn't think their ship could be attacked, would they?

He shook his head.  Sometimes, no matter what the bureaucrats thought, you just had to gamble.

“I shall prepare my men,” he said.  They’d relish the challenge, he knew, despite the danger of being blown up by the aliens if they scuttled their ship.  Or by the human nuke, if the operation failed spectacularly.  “When do you wish us to depart?”

“As soon as possible,” the Captain said.  “You’ll have to sneak towards the target, then move in from behind.”

“I understand,” Charles said.  In one respect, it was just like boarding a rogue asteroid settlement.  Marines in a shuttle were hideously vulnerable, Marines inside the asteroid – or the enemy ship – could fight to secure and expand their bridgehead.  “We won’t let you down.”

“Good luck,” the CAG said, quietly.

Charles gave the older man an odd look.  Marines might bitch and moan about starfighter pilots having a comfortable seat while they fought – and all the women when they went on leave – but Charles knew the average life expectancy of a starfighter pilot facing the aliens.  Even Marines might last longer ... when the time came to finally hit a defended alien world.

“Thank you,” he said.

***