“I think you shouldn’t judge someone by their looks,” he said, dryly.  “Unless they’re pointing a gun at you, of course.”

He wondered, briefly, what the various human-alien friendship protest groups would make of it.  There had been no shortage of idiots willing to believe that the human race had started the war, perhaps by settling a world the aliens had already claimed ... although, if that was the case, why hadn't they made contact rather than simply opened fire?  Somehow, he doubted the human race would have been stubborn if the aliens explained that they’d gotten to Vera Cruz first.  And, even if they had removed the humans by force, why carry on to attack New Russia?  And then start an advance on Earth?

There was no way to know.  Human morality might mean nothing to the aliens – and there were dozens of human groups with their own versions of morality.  Maybe the aliens thought that exterminating every other form of life was a holy duty or maybe they considered themselves the masters of the universe, with everyone else battered into slavery.  Charles could imagine a dozen motives for the attack that were heartless and cruel, but not unprecedented.  Hell, maybe there was an alien emperor who wanted to start a war in the hopes it would distract attention from problems at home.

He watched, grimly, as the alien was bagged up, then returned his attention to sweeping through the remainder of the debris field.  Any hopes he might have had for recovering alien technology seemed as unlikely as ever; the largest chunk of debris they found was nothing more than a piece of alien hull.  Several of the other searchers picked up alien bodies, including one that seemed almost completely intact.  They were bagged up and returned to the carrier too.

The intercom buzzed.  “Return to the Old Lady,” the XO ordered, flatly.  “We’re going back to Earth.”

***

“I had a preliminary look at the pieces of debris,” Anderson reported, “but most of them are too badly battered to be understandable.”

Ted nodded, sharing a long look with his XO.  He hadn't really expected any ground-shaking discoveries, apart from the alien bodies, but it was still disappointing.  It would have been nice to recover an alien plasma weapon intact so it could be reverse-engineered ...

He shook his head, dismissing the thought.  “What can you tell us about the alien ships?”

“Their hulls are actually stronger than one of our modern carriers, but weaker than Ark Royal’s armour,” Anderson said.  “There's nothing particularly ... alien about the composite they use, it’s merely something that might prove more resistant to plasma blasts.  I think we can place it into production ourselves in short order, although it would still take months – more likely years – before we could sheath all of the modern carriers in alien-derived armour.”

“They might want to start building new carriers from scratch,” Fitzwilliam observed.  “And battleships too.”