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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

“Really?”  She asked, as she turned and headed towards the hatch.  “For what?”

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Ted couldn't help feeling a little amusement at how the officers on Nelson Base reacted when he and Fitzwilliam walked through the hatch.  Once, they would have either ignored him or snickered at him behind his back.  What could they say to a drunkard who had somehow lucked into keeping his command, even if his command was only a starship the Royal Navy used as a dumping ground for its problem children?  But now, after his victory, they fell over themselves to shake his hand.  Even the Marines seemed impressed.

He rolled his eyes as the First Space Lord’s latest assistant showed him into a small compartment, where the First Space Lord and a couple of junior officers were waiting for him.  One of them was wearing the unmarked uniform favoured by the Intelligence Corps, the other was wearing the too-neat uniform of a PR officer.  Ted sighed, inwardly; he’d hoped to avoid Public Relations as much as possible.  It might be important to keep civilian morale up, but he hated giving interviews even to friendly reporters.

“Please, be seated,” the First Space Lord said.  This time, it was clear, they wouldn't be visiting the main briefing compartment.  “We have a great deal to discuss.”

Ted kept his face expressionless as he sat down and rested his hands in his lap.  A private discussion meant another deployment, he hoped; he couldn't help feeling that the alternatives were worse.  Perhaps they wanted him to go on a speaking tour, reassuring the public that all was well with the war.  But, even after he’d stopped drinking, he was hardly as photogenic as the actor who’d played Dan Dare in the 2123 remake of the classic space opera.  And no one would be reassured if they saw his service record.

The First Space Lord nodded to the Intelligence Corps officer.  “Commander Steenblik?”

Steenblik nodded, then tapped a switch, activating the holographic processor.  Ted studied him with some interest.  Like most Intelligence Corps officers, there was a blandness about him that would have left him almost unnoticed, at least when compared to line officers.  And yet he knew better than to underestimate the sandy-haired young man.  The Intelligence Corps recruited only the smartest of officers, men and women willing to work behind the scenes to ensure that the Royal Navy got the intelligence it needed, when it needed it.  They’d failed to predict the arrival of the aliens, admittedly, but no one else had done any better.

Unless the conspiracy theories are actually true, Ted thought, as he looked up at the display.  If someone did know, that might explain our military build-up ...