A Small Colonial War (Ark Royal Book 6) by Christopher Nuttall, Justin Adams Page A

Mike Johnston, Warspite’s Chief Engineer, had a thing for Juliet, even when she’d been XO.  It had probably worked in her favour - crewmen who would have ignored her wouldn't have dared trifle with the Chief Engineer - but it was skirting the boundaries of regulations.  Now, after she’d been reassigned to Nelson Base, they’d seen each other fairly frequently.  John was mildly surprised he hadn't heard of their engagement by now.
     
    “I’ll see if I can spare him,” he said.  It was hard to say no to Juliet.  “But I can't make any promises.”
     
    He nodded to her and headed down towards the airlock.  A pair of marines was standing on guard outside the ship, watching carefully while four crewmen carefully moved a truckload of supplies into Warspite .  They saluted John as he approached; he saluted them back, then waited for them to confirm his identity before stepping through the airlock.  It wasn't likely the Indians had spies trying to creep onto the ship, yet the possibility couldn't be discounted completely .  The Great Powers might have agreed not to wage war on one another, at least before the Tadpoles had shown themselves, but there had been no shortage of attempts to penetrate security systems and steal intelligence and technological data. 
     
    And the Indians might have spies of their own , he thought.  No, they will have spies of their own, watching and waiting to see what we do .
     
    It wasn't a cheerful thought.  The Royal Navy needed to trust its personnel, not start a witch-hunt for Indian spies.  Hell, quite a few crewmen were of Indian descent, although most ties to motherlands had been cut during the Troubles.  Who knew what would happen if they were specifically targeted by the counter-intelligence staff?  The paranoia might do more damage than Indian weapons.
     
    He keyed his wristcom as he entered his ready room.  “Commander Howard, report to my ready room as soon as possible.”
     
    “Aye, Captain,” Howard said.  “I’m on my way.”
     
    John sat down behind his desk and opened his terminal.  The official set of orders was already waiting for him; he skimmed them briefly, then placed the sealed orders in his secure drawer.  They’d remain there until they reached Terra Nova, where he’d need to show them to the XO.  Howard would probably guess their existence once the SAS troopers came onboard - there was no need to transport the SAS to Britannia - but until then the sealed orders had to remain a secret.  It wasn’t particularly clever - John trusted his XO completely - yet there was no choice.  The more people who knew, the greater the chance of an accidental leak.
     
    The hatch opened.  “Captain,” Howard said.
     
    “Take a seat,” John ordered.  He glanced through the list of messages and frowned.  The SAS would be arriving an hour before the planned departure time, something that bothered him more than he cared to admit.  A handful of troopers wouldn’t pose a problem, but their shuttlecraft would have to be stowed away somewhere safe.  “We’re departing for Britannia in two days.”
     
    Howard raised his eyebrows.  “Britannia?”
     
    “We will also be transporting an SAS detachment - probably one or two troops, around sixteen men apiece,” John added.  He’d let Howard draw his own conclusions.  “They’ll have at least one shuttlecraft with them - a non-standard design.  They want her to remain secure.”
     
    “Yes, sir,” Howard said.  “We could plug her to the hull and cover her in camo fabric.  She’d remain completely out of sight.”
     
    “Good idea,” John said.  “Make the arrangements; verify the straps yourself, rather than asking anyone else to handle it.  Officially, we’re taking on additional marines rather than anything more ... interesting.”
     
    “Of course, sir,” Howard said.
     
    John smiled.  “We also have permission to take what we need from the stores, so put in requests for