A Small Colonial War (Ark Royal Book 6) (41 page)

“The Russians,” Penny said, softly.  “It was them, wasn't it?”

Percy gave her an odd look.  “Why ...?”

“The Russians are pariahs,” Penny said.  “Why?  Simply blackmailing a pair of starfighter pilots isn't enough to get themselves permanently blacklisted.”

“You would have made a good intelligence officer,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  “The Russians unilaterally intended to deploy a biological weapon against the Tadpoles.  It would, at best, have caused huge casualties, but spurred them to launch a final attack against us.  And, given how badly the various human militaries had been weakened by the war, we would almost certainly have been exterminated.  Your father gave his life to stop it.”

“Shit,” Percy said.

He wasn't sure how to handle it.  His father had had an affair ... it wasn't something he really wanted to consider.  Why had he cheated on their mother?  Percy had overheard some of their arguments when his father had been home on leave, but surely they didn't justify cheating ...

Sometimes a relationship just breaks down
, he thought, recalling something he’d been taught in school.  Humans were living longer and it was proving harder to keep a monogamous relationship going, when one could expect to spend over a hundred years with a single partner. 
And sometimes two people discover they’re no longer compatible
.

“I don’t know what happened between your mother and father,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said, as if he'd read Percy’s mind.  “What I do know, however, is that your father died a hero.”

Penny winced.  “The Tadpoles don’t know how close they came, do they?”

“No,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  “The evidence was destroyed by your father.  After that ... the Russians have an interest in keeping the matter secret too.  They concealed everything themselves.  If it got out ...”

Percy could imagine.  Biological weapons were the one great taboo.  Riots in the streets, demands for war against Russia, a renewed war with the Tadpoles ... it would not be good.

“There are people who will say I shouldn't have told you,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  “I wouldn't have told you, if the evidence hadn’t already been buried.  There are thousands upon thousands of crackpot theories on the datanet, some more accurate than others.  If you go public with this, if you choose to ignore my warnings, it is highly unlikely you will be believed.”

“We won’t,” Penny said.  “It needs to remain buried.”

“They’ll kick you out of the reporter’s club if they ever found out you sat on it,” Percy said, amused.  “But they probably wouldn't believe it, if you told them.”

“One would hope not,” Admiral Fitzwilliam agreed.  “Officially, the Russians are having considerable economic trouble after the war.  There's no
formal
agreement to penalise the Russians, just ... an unofficial understanding that we won’t lift a finger to help them out of their current mess.”

“Which might have pushed them into India’s arms,” Penny observed.

“Probably,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  “That policy may have to be revised.”

He looked at Percy.  “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I don't think your father could be prouder of you two than I am.  And, whatever his flaws, he died a hero.  That’s something to remember.”

***

Penny had suspected that both her parents had been having affairs, if not before the war than certainly afterwards.  She’d definitely known that her father and Rose were close, far too close, during the brief meeting she’d had with the older woman.  But to have it confirmed so bluntly - and then to be told just what had killed their father - was shocking.  She knew she would need time to process it all ...

“Is there any way,” she asked, “that some of these details can be made public?”

“Maybe in a few hundred years, when the world is very different,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said, calmly.  “But for the moment ... the truth will remain buried in the files.  Better to conceal a secret than risk a renewed war.”

“Dad’s a listed hero,” Percy said.  “That’s all we can ask for, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  “And, like I said, I believe he would be proud of you.”

He glanced at his watch.  “I will probably not have a chance to see you again, Percy, before you take ship for Vesy,” he added.  “So please let me wish you the very best of luck, both with your new role and your girlfriend.”

Penny smiled, weakly.  She rather liked Lillian; indeed, she’d interviewed the young crewwoman during the flight back to Earth, if only to ensure that Lillian’s heroism wasn't overshadowed by the mistakes of the past.  It hadn't been necessary, she’d discovered when they’d returned to Earth.  Lillian’s case had been reviewed by a naval board, the charges against her had been dropped and she’d been given a medal for her services during the war.

“And I hope to read the advance copy of your book soon,” Admiral Fitzwilliam added, looking at Penny.  “I’m sure it will make fascinating reading.”

“It will,” Penny promised.  She rose and curtseyed.  “Thank you for your time, Admiral.”

Percy saluted, then followed Penny out of the compartment.  They didn't say a word until they were in one of the mess rooms and seated in a corner.

“Shit,” Percy said.  “I ...”

“It’s probably better not to think about it,” Penny advised.  They’d wanted to know, hadn’t they?  That might have been a mistake.  “Just ... enjoy the rest of your life.”

“I’ll try,” Percy said.  “And you?”

Penny smiled, impishly.  “I have a date with Hamish tomorrow,” she said.  “He’s taking me to see the sights in London.”

“Oh,” Percy said.  He sighed, dramatically.  “Just be careful, all right?”

“I wasn't planning on taking him to bed,” Penny said, just to watch him splutter.  “I want to take it slowly.”

“Maybe I should come too,” Percy said.  He ducked as she picked up her mug and pretended to throw it at him.  “I kid, I kid!”

“I’ll be careful,” Penny said.  “And you never know.  You might see me on Vesy.”

“I might,” Percy agreed.  “But I have a feeling that contact is going to be limited.  It’s going to be hard enough for them to learn how to use technology - and the scientific mindset - without reporters bumbling around.”

Penny smiled and stuck out her tongue.

Chapter Forty

Nelson Base, Earth Orbit

“I’m afraid we won’t be giving you
all
of the prize money for the carrier,” the First Space Lord said, once John had been shown into the compartment.  “The politicians have insisted that
some
of the prize fund be diverted to pay for repairs to the colony.”

John nodded, unsurprised.  An Indian salvage team had inspected the damaged carrier carefully, after the treaty had been signed, but concluded that attempting to repair the damage was probably futile.  They’d eventually abandoned the hulk, allowing John and his crew to try to claim the prize money.  A month of haggling later had eventually led to a settlement, once the Indians had insisted - as part of the agreement - that the carrier never be returned to Earth.

“But you’ll have around half the value of the hulk to share out,” Admiral Fitzwilliam added, from where he was sitting beside Admiral Soskice.  “I don’t think that’s anything to sniff at.”

“No, sir,” John said.  “The greenest midshipman would still be looking at somewhere around fifty thousand pounds, probably more.”

The First Space Lord cleared his throat.  “There are certain issues that need to be discussed,” he said.  “One of them is the future fleet mix.  Do you feel that the day of the carrier is over?”

John took a moment to gather his thoughts.  “I feel that the universe has changed,” he said, finally.  “On one hand, we fired on the Indian ship from practically point-blank range; I don’t think they - or anyone else - would let us get close enough to do it again.  There were too many observers in the system for us to cover up what happened.  But, on the other hand, the technicians are already talking about extending the plasma cannon’s range.”

He took a breath.  “More to the point, the improvements in point defence threaten to make it a great deal harder to get either starfighters or missiles into engagement range,” he added.  “We did deploy improved ECM - and the Indians deployed long-range missiles - but in both cases equally improved point defence proved up to the challenge.  The Indians only landed a major hit on
Theodore Smith
because the boarding pods were considered secondary targets, compared to a swarm of incoming missiles.

“On the other hand, we may be able to improve our starfighters and their onboard missiles ...”

The First Space Lord held up a hand.  “Can you give me a direct answer?”

“No, sir,” John said, honestly.  “We killed a carrier under ideal conditions.  Had we been detected a great deal sooner, the results would have been very different.  However, I think the current thread of development is going to push carriers to one side.”

“And replace them with gunnery cruisers,” Admiral Soskice said.  “The war proved that our old fleet mix is on the verge of becoming obsolete.”

Admiral Fitzwilliam frowned.  “There are some points that definitely need improving,” he said.  “Our starfighter mix will need to be upgraded; there will still be a use for starfighters, I believe, but their role may be very different.”

John looked from one to the other.  “It would be unsafe to rely on
one
theory of warfare, sir,” he warned.  “We may make a new breakthrough tomorrow.

“That is indeed the problem,” the First Space Lord said.  “Do we push resources into building new carriers or start exploring new ways to make war?”

“With all due respect, sir,” Admiral Soskice said.  “One new way to make war has proven itself very effective.  Trading
Warspite
for an Indian carrier that cost ten times as much wouldn't have been a poor bargain.”

“At the same time,” Admiral Fitzwilliam commented, “
Warspite
could easily have been blown apart if they’d seen her too early.”

He sighed.  “However, it does look as though we will need to move towards a combination of heavy armour and energy weapons,” he added.  “The Indians
did
manage to kill a number of our smaller lightly armoured ships.  If nothing else, they will all have to be refitted with the latest composite armour.”

John suspected he was right.  He’d served in both starfighters and capital ships and he understood the strengths and weaknesses of both.  Advances in point defence would seriously limit the role of starfighters in war, perhaps even restrict them to nothing more than scouting duties.  But everyone who was emotionally invested in fleet carriers and starfighters would resist such a conclusion.  They wouldn't want to believe it.

The First Space Lord leaned forward.  “You’re talking about the
Vanguard
project.”

“Yes, sir,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.

Admiral Soskice looked, briefly, like the cat that had eaten the canary.  “Are you saying you now want to proceed with it?”

“I may have been wrong,” Admiral Fitzwilliam admitted.  “Unless we make a whole series of new breakthroughs, Admiral, the starfighter is eventually doomed.  However, as
Warspite
demonstrated, getting close enough to
use
the heavy plasma cannon isn't actually easy.  If we mount the cannon - or several cannons - on a much larger ship, we’d improve survivability.”

“And a
Vanguard
would be far tougher than any carrier,” Admiral Soskice noted.  “The absence of any starfighter launch tubes would cut down on the number of vulnerable points on the hull.”

John hesitated, then asked.  “A
Vanguard
?”

The First Space Lord tapped a control, activating a holographic display.  A giant starship, every bit as large as a fleet carrier, appeared over his desk.  John drank in the details greedily, even though it looked too sleek to be anything other than an artist’s impression.  She was as blocky as
Ark Royal
, studded with missile tubes, point defence weapons and sensor blisters ... and, on her prow, were two plasma cannons.  They looked larger than the weapon built into
Warspite
.

“HMS
Vanguard
, as the designers see her,” the First Space Lord said.  “Our first true battleship since the days we were messing about in boats.”

He nodded to Admiral Soskice, who leaned forward eagerly.  “She is heavily armoured, capable of shrugging off a bomb-pumped laser or a direct hit with a nuclear warhead,” he stated.  “Her weapons are actually placed in an outer shell that makes it harder for the enemy to inflict damage on the interior of the vessel, although we have wrapped plates of solid armour through the interior as well, just in case.  The drives - the latest designs - are capable of generating a realspace velocity to match
Warspite
, at least over long distances.”

John nodded.  Unless someone had made a
real
breakthrough, it was unlikely a battleship or fleet carrier could hope to match a cruiser’s acceleration curve.

“She does not, of course, carry starfighters,” Admiral Soskice continued.  “Her point defence, however, is an order of magnitude more effective than anything currently in existence.”

“In theory,” Admiral Fitzwilliam commented.

“In theory,” Admiral Soskice agreed.  “She is also heavily automated; we believe she can be operated safely with a crew of one hundred, although our current estimates suggest that we should aim for a crewing figure of two thousand.  There is, of course, no need to include a cadre of starfighter pilots and support staff.  She will carry up to a full regiment of marines, along with a number of assault shuttles; they will be geared for everything from covert insertion to boarding missions.”

“In short, she’s our answer to the Tadpole Dreadnaught,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  He looked at John.  “What do you make of her?”

“She looks remarkable, in theory,” John said.  “However, I would be concerned about the lack of starfighter cover.”

“There’s no reason she couldn't be escorted by a carrier,” Admiral Soskice pointed out.

“But that would defeat the purpose of building
Vanguard
,” John argued.  “If she needs a carrier, we might as well
build
a carrier instead of her.”

“The blunt truth is that our fleet carriers - starting with
Ark Royal
- were expected to either serve as crosses between battleships and carriers or merely platforms for long-range starfighter strikes,” Admiral Fitzwilliam said.  “In those terms,
Theodore Smith
is a throwback; we may need to advance towards a concept of battleships and carriers rather than vessels that do neither task particularly well.”

John nodded. 
Theodore Smith
had been heavily armoured and she’d still been badly damaged in the war.  The Indian carrier had been crippled so badly the ship had been abandoned.  Having more layers of armour around him seemed a good thing.

“We will not, of course, put all our eggs in one basket,” the First Space Lord said.  “Parliament has voted to support the current military budget, which includes funds for four more fleet carriers as well as seventy smaller ships and a handful of classified research programs.  However, we will need to start work on
Vanguard
soon if we intend to have her ready to join the navy.”

John considered it.  “We’d be looking at around five years of construction time,” he said.  It might well be optimistic.  First-time construction projects always overran.  “Might I ask why you wanted me to see this?”

“We’d like you to head the project,” the First Space Lord said. 

He held up a hand before John could say a word.  “You have a considerable level of experience in active service,” he said.  “No one would question your military record.  Your experience is also varied; you’ve served as a starfighter pilot, tactical officer, executive officer and finally a captain.  And you’ve commanded
Warspite
, which was conceived as the precursor to
Vanguard
.”

“Or, in other words, you actually have a good grasp of military realities,” Admiral Fitzwilliam added.  “You wouldn't waste time trying to produce something impractical.”

“You’d be an acting Commodore for the duration of your work,” the First Space Lord said.  “If you want a ship, once the
Vanguard
Project is completed or passed to other hands, you would be added to the top of the Naval Register.”

And guaranteed a command
, John finished, silently.

He wasn't blind to the true reason for the discussion, although he had to admit - as much as he hated the thought - he did have the experience to make
Vanguard
work.  His service during the war should guarantee him promotion, but his unusual career path would make it harder for him to be promoted into flag rank.  And he lacked the ability to kiss enough asses to make up for such a deficiency.  Spending several years riding herd on designers and construction workers who had never seen the elephant was a small price to pay for a future command.

And it would be a challenge.  He'd always liked a challenge.

“It would be my honour,” he said, finally.  “I will need some time to settle my affairs on
Warspite
, however.”

“You are entitled to a month of leave in any case,” the First Space Lord said.  “As your ship requires some intensive repairs, we believe it would be best to reassign most of your crew to other ships. 
Warspite
will receive a new crew once she leaves the shipyards.  I suggest you see her into the yard, then take your leave.  Everything should be arranged for you to take command of the project once you return.”

“Understood, sir,” John said, reluctantly.

“You have good reason to be proud of her,” the First Space Lord added.  “If her name wasn't already on the naval rolls, John, she would have been added after the war.”

John nodded, proudly.  A ship that performed with honour would be guaranteed a namesake for almost as long as the Royal Navy existed. 
Warspite
had had predecessors, of course, but she deserved no less.  Her successor would carry her name with pride.