Fighting For The Crown (Ark Royal Book 16)

by Christopher G. Nuttall

  “We’ll hit the planet again, if we have to,” he said. The gunboats were under attack, but they were no longer necessary. The planetary defences and installations were a known factor now. They couldn’t hide from his missiles or guns. “Continue firing.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  ***

  “Admiral, the enemy fleet is coming about,” Richardson reported. “They’re altering course ...”

  “Too late,” Susan said. She felt a surge of heavy satisfaction. “They can’t escape us now.”

  She smiled as the torrent of missiles roared down on the alien ships. Her long-range sensors had reported that Lion had begun the planetary bombardment, forcing the virus to decide between trying to run down her fleet and breaking contact. It looked as if the virus had decided on the latter, despite the chance to do her ships some real damage. And yet, it was too late to completely evade contact. She waited, expecting the enemy fleet to swing back to its original course. It was just a matter of time.

  They should have sent a brainship with the fleet, she thought. The enemy battleships weren’t stupid, but they lacked the flexibility of the brainships. It’s too far from the planet for direct command and control.

  “Order the antishipping starfighters to begin their attack runs,” she said, as the enemy point defence started to open fire. “And prepare the battleships to go in behind them.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  Susan leaned forward. The enemy warships staggered under the weight of her missile bombardment, unable to separate the decoys from the real missiles until it was far too late. Their starfighters were being worn down, unable to cope with the sudden appearance of an antishipping strike. As she watched, the enemy starfighters broke contact and screamed back to their fleet in hopes of covering the ships long enough to let them escape. Too late, she told herself. Too late ...

  “Signal from Lion, Admiral,” Richardson said. “The planet has been hit. Repeatedly.”

  “Good.” Susan wasn’t too concerned about the planet itself. It wouldn’t be that hard to find an asteroid and shove it into the planet, if they ran out of other weapons. The remnants of the orbital defences would fall into the planet’s atmosphere, a handful striking the surface and causing immense devastation. “Order him to concentrate on the orbital facilities.”

  She put the matter out of her mind as her fleet converged on the enemy ships, spitting wave after wave of missiles as they came. The starfighters were already hitting the enemy defences, torpedoes lancing beams of deadly energy into their hulls and plasma cannons targeting weapons emplacements and sensor nodes. Susan felt no pity, beyond a grim awareness that countless host bodies were about to die. It was hard not to feel sorry for them, even though most of the hosts had probably been born and bred to serve the virus. They could have been intelligent. They could have lived their own lives ...

  We’re putting them out of their misery, she told herself. And that is all we can do for them.

  Thunderous vibrated as she launched another salvo of missiles. The rate of fire was dropping now - the battleships were threatening to shoot themselves dry - but the enemy defences were too weak to stop them. Susan felt a flicker of cold glee as a missile plunged into a gash in an enemy hull and detonated, the resulting blast blowing the entire ship into a cloud of expanding plasma. The ship must have taken a great deal of internal damage already, she noted absently. Battleships were designed to take multiple hits and keep going. Or maybe the virus hadn’t felt able to risk closing the hatches ...

  “Admiral, the enemy ships are picking up speed,” Richardson reported. “They’re trying to close the range.”

  “Order the starfighters to target their drives,” Susan said. The enemy ships were trying to ram. They had no other choice now, but to sell their lives as dearly as possible. It might work, too. She was all too aware she was deep in enemy space, unable to take the time to repair a damaged ship. The virus knew they were there now, she was sure. They’d have to head home as quickly as possible. “And order the fleet to evade as much as possible.”

  She felt her heart pounding as the range continued to close. The enemy battleships kept coming, directing their escorts to shield them as long as possible. Susan watched calmly as they died, one by one; their weapons raking her hulls and damaging her ships. They might have the last laugh, she noted grimly. They’d weakened her to the point she couldn’t risk another engagement, at least until she’d rearmed her ships and made what basic - very basic - repairs she could. And if enemy reinforcements arrived in time ...

  The starchart glowed in front of her, mocking her. How close were enemy reinforcements? They’d have a flicker station somewhere along the tramline or she was a midshipwoman with delusions of grandeur. The captured files weren’t that good ... she had no idea what was waiting for her as she cut her way back into human space. The virus would do everything in its power to block her retreat, even if it meant abandoning the front. That wouldn’t be bad for the human race, she thought, but it would be bad for her personally. And for the rest of her fleet.

  She forced herself to watch, impassively, as the damage continued to mount. An American battleship lost two drive nodes, a Japanese cruiser was disabled and swatted aside, a Chinese carrier took four direct hits and only survived through sheer luck ... a Tadpole superdreadnaught stood her ground against an alien battleship, the two ships converging until they collided and exploded with terrifying force. There was no time to mourn, Susan told herself. The last of the enemy ships were still coming ...

  “Admiral,” Richardson said. “They’re closing on us.”

  “Understood,” Susan said. She was just a spectator now as the alien ships bulled through her fire. There was no point in trying to evade. “Alert the datanet. Prepare to transfer command to Admiral Li.”

  Her mind raced. Did the virus know Thunderous was the flagship? It was impossible to be sure. The decision hadn’t been made until shortly before the fleet had left Earth. She supposed it was possible the virus had infected someone in a position to know, but ... she shook her head as the alien craft staggered under her fire, losing speed as it was blasted to atoms piece by piece. It was probably just a coincidence. She’d been reluctant to place herself in the middle of the fleet. She owed it to her people to put her life on the line too.

  Richardson looked up. “Admiral,” he said, formally. “The enemy fleet has been destroyed.”

  Susan nodded, curtly. There were a handful of remaining starfighters, but none of them posed any significant threat. Her starfighters would hunt them down before they could escape ... if, of course, they had anywhere to go. She frowned as she studied the display. The system was a big place. It was quite possible there were stealthed resupply facilities within reach, if the enemy starfighters set out before it was too late. There were a couple of automated starfighter tenders holding position near Earth.

  “Signal the fleet,” she ordered. The datanet had already resorted her fleet, ensuring that the damaged units were pulled out of their formations and replaced. She disliked relying on the computers to handle it, but she didn’t have time to handle it herself. “Task Force Omega is to head to the gas giant and destroy the facilities there. Task Force Alpha is to head to the planet and link up with Lion. The remainder of the fleet is to hold position here.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Richardson said.

  Susan took a moment to study the damage reports. Twelve ships had been destroyed outright. Four ships would probably have to be abandoned and scuttled, unless their crews thought they could make it back on their own. There was no way they could keep up with the fleet, let alone defend themselves when they ran into enemy forces. And the remainder were damaged ... she frowned as new icons popped up on her display as the damage control crews started to file their reports. They could repair most of the damage, if they had time. She just didn’t know how much time she had.

  “Signal to Unicorn,” she ordered. “She is to proceed through Tramline Two and sweep the system, t
hen return here.”

  “Aye, Admiral.”

  “And detach two destroyers,” Susan added. “I want them to peek through Tramlines Three and Four.”

  “Aye, Admiral,” Richardson said.

  Susan could hear the doubt in his voice. She understood. Destroyers were tough little ships, but they weren’t designed for survey or recon missions. Their sensors were nowhere near as sharp as Unicorn’s. They’d still be good enough to pick up a major fleet rushing towards the alien system, she told herself. The virus wouldn’t be wasting time with stealth, if it thought it could save something ... she smiled. It was too late. The system had been crippled beyond easy repair.

  She glanced at the live feed from Lion as the fleet commenced repairs. The planet’s orbital installations had been destroyed, crippled or rendered effectively meaningless. There was no point in wasting missiles on orbital battlestations that no longer had anything to defend. The atmospheric sensors reported that the counter-virus was spreading rapidly, killing the virus as efficiently as it killed its hosts. Susan knew they were committing genocide, but ... she shook her head. The virus had made it clear that it intended to create a universe where it was the only intelligent life form. There was no choice. It had to be destroyed, whatever the cost, or it would destroy everything else.

  And now we complete our repairs and start running, she thought. It’ll be coming for us ...

  “Admiral,” Richardson said. “There’s an odd report from the planetary survey. They’re requesting permission to deploy a landing party.”

  Susan blinked as she ran her eye down the report. The thought was madness. There was no way they could be sure the enemy world was safe. Hell, it wasn’t safe. And yet ...

  “Volunteers only,” she said, firmly. “Make it clear. This is a volunteer-only mission.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You know, if we get home, this story is bound to impress the girls,” Davies said. “How about you, Kevin? Are you planning to impress the girls?”

  Colin scowled behind his mask as the shuttle plummeted through the planetary atmosphere, the hull groaning and creaking as if it were being pummelled by an angry god. He hadn’t been so scared since his very first parachute jump, when he’d wet himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d set foot on an infected world, but this world had been infected from top to bottom before the BioBombs had been dropped. They couldn’t trust anything, from the air they breathed to the very trees themselves. They’d be spending the entire mission in their suits, praying desperately they didn’t spring a leak ...

  “What about it?” Davies leaned forward. “What do you see in a woman?”

  “Knock it off,” Colin growled. The marines had plenty of experience integrating people from different cultures, but alien races? That was something new. Kevin might be hideously offended - or simply bemused - by Davies’s comments. Colin didn’t have time to deal with any of it. He was too busy kicking himself for volunteering. “We’ll be landing shortly.”

  The shuttle rocked, something crashing against the hull hard enough to make him think - just for a second - that they’d touched down. The boffins on the ship had insisted the weather was completely unpredictable, pointing to the combination of dying viral matter and thousands upon thousands of pieces of debris falling into the atmosphere to explain why they couldn’t see much of anything. Colin wished, just for a moment, that the boffins were accompanying the marines. He knew he was being unfair, but he was starting to feel as though he’d made a mistake. The shuttle was being pushed to the limit as it dropped through the atmosphere. There was little hope of recovery if they crash-landed on the alien world.

  He glanced at the four figures at the rear of the compartment. The xenospecialists had insisted on accompanying the marines, despite the danger. Colin admired them for taking the risk - they could have easily stayed on the ship - but, at the same time, he wished they’d been a little less brave. Close-protection duties weren’t really his forte, even on Earth. Here, on a dying world, he was all too aware they could be overrun at any moment. The LZ was dozens of miles from the nearest alien city, but that was meaningless. The entire planet was riddled with the virus.

  The intercom crackled. “Landing in five minutes,” the pilot said. “Bend over and kiss your arse goodbye.”

  Colin promised himself a long talk with the pilot when they were back on the ship. His platoon knew the risks, and knew what pilots considered amusing, but the xenospecialists had to be terrified. The turbulence alone was quite bad enough, without the risk of being knocked out of the air or stranded on an alien world. Colin sighed inwardly, wishing he’d thought to suggest the xenospecialists stayed on the ship. Not that they’d have listened, he supposed. Their careers would be made if they came up with something new ...

  He braced himself as the pilot counted down the last few seconds. The shuttle crashed down hard, hard enough to set off the alarms. Colin unbuckled himself and stood as the deck shifted, wondering - for an insane moment - if the pilot had accidentally landed them in the ocean. He’d been through survival training, but he didn’t give them good odds if they had landed in the water. The suits were so heavy they’d sink the moment they got out of the shuttle.

  Alerts flashed up in front of him as he stepped into the airlock, the inner hatch hissing closed and locking before the outer hatch opened. It was supposed to be midday, but the sky was gloomy and overcast and flickering with eerie lightning. Rain splattered down around him, dripping off the shuttle and crashing to the ground. The landscape looked terrible. He hadn’t seen something so vile in his entire life, even the muddy bogs they’d used for exercises ...

  His radio crackled. “What does it look like out there?”

  “Like snot,” Colin said. “You sure we’ve come to the right place?”

  “Yes,” the pilot said. “I put us down right on target.”

  Colin frowned as he jumped to the ground. It felt squidgy under his armoured boots. He tried not to think about the dying virus, about how it might have taken the entire planet with it. Perhaps the world could be terraformed at some later date or ... he put the thought out of his head as the rest of the platoon and the xenospecialists joined him. The latter seemed surprisingly eager to proceed. Perhaps they’d come to realise that the longer they spent on the surface, the longer they’d have to spent in their suits.

  The lead xenospecialist - Doctor Simpson - pointed east. “That way,” he said. “Follow me.”

  “Follow me,” Colin corrected. “Let me take point.”

  He ignored the doctor’s irritation as he started walking. The sky grew more ominous as they moved, billowing yellow clouds dripping poisonous rain on their suits. His sensors warned him that the rain was dangerous, as if the brown liquid didn’t already look horrible. The landscape didn’t grow any better, as they kept moving. He couldn’t help thinking that the entire planet was decaying into sludge. The platoon moved in silence, without any of their normal jokes or banter. The landscape was just too oppressive for jokes.

  It was nearly twenty minutes before they reached the city. Colin held his rifle in one hand as he crested the hill and peered down at the alien buildings. They looked odd, the proportions completely out of shape. The virus tended towards the strictly functional, when it built planetary installations, but there was something oddly whimsical about these buildings. Colin felt a shiver running down his spine. It wasn’t a human place.

  The xenospecialists didn’t seem bothered. They launched a set of drones, then started to search the buildings one by one. Colin kept a wary eye on his sensors, half-convinced the complex wasn’t as abandoned as it looked. The buildings seemed to have been abandoned ages ago, yet ... a chill ran down his spine as they peered into a small chamber and spotted hints of long-gone machinery. The complex had been something, once upon a time. But what?

  Davies put the feeling into words. “What do you think this place is?”

  “We don’t know, yet,” Doctor Simpson said. “We s
potted it during the planetary survey. The virus didn’t seem to have paid it any real attention.”

  Colin frowned. He’d seen the live feed from the alien world before the counter-virus had begun to devastate the population. The host bodies had represented three or four different races, but one had been predominant. “You think this place belonged to the original natives?”

  “It’s a possibility,” Doctor Simpson said. “We’re not sure how long the world has been infected, but ... this place survived. We want to know why.”

  “It might have been useless,” Davies pointed out. “The virus doesn’t really give much of a damn about food and shelter.”

  “It normally makes use of everything it finds,” Doctor Simpson corrected, stiffly. “It captures homes - it uses homes. We’re unsure if it’s drawing on some legacy from the host body’s memories or if it’s just being practical, but it does. This place seemingly remained untouched for decades, perhaps centuries. We want to know why.”

  Colin kept his thoughts to himself as they quartered the tiny settlement. It was hard not to feel the weight of ages pressing down, yet ... there was so much missing that he couldn’t decide if their excitement was remotely justified. The aliens who’d built the place might have intended it to be anything from a retirement village to a military barracks. The virus might not have cared enough to make use of it, once the original host bodies had died out. It had been much more interested in turning the world into an industrial powerhouse.