Savage Fugitive

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Savage Fugitive Page 14

by Patrick G Cox


  The feeling of being watched came to a head when Harry woke up to find himself covered by a cloth of the sort the Canids used. There was no sign of anyone having entered the chamber and got past the guards, and no one of his party had brought in the cloak-like garment to put over him. Searching his memory, he recalled he had felt cold, and then had felt much warmer after someone had placed it over him. As he lay in the darkness in that hazy zone between sleep and wakefulness, he was deluged with memories of his childhood when his mother did the same thing on cold nights in their big stone house in Ireland. That put him in an introspective mood this bleak, cold day.

  “Good morning, Harry,” Rasmus greeted him with his usual cheer as Harry joined the others in the chamber they used as a dining hall. “Coffee?” Rasmus held up a steaming pot.

  “Thank you,” Harry replied absently. Then the oddness of the situation struck him. “Coffee? We haven’t had that for a while. Please tell me how you managed to obtain coffee.”

  “Didn’t have to look far, sir,” commented the Coxswain. “Our supplies doubled overnight — look for yourself.”

  “Not just the food either,” chipped in TechRate Hill. “Someone got in during the night and left us a load of stuff — like these cloaks, sir. I was nice and snug once someone put one over me while I slept. Thought it was something else at first.” He glanced at Maddie Hodges and winked. She gave him a sly grin.

  Harry frowned. He had a sudden guilty feeling for not having demanded to know who had covered him with the cloak the moment he felt it in the middle of the night, and now realised it was identical to those worn by the Canids. If those creatures could bypass their sentries so easily, then perhaps the Consortium troops could too. “Where were our sentries? What did they see?”

  “Ahead of you, sir,” rumbled the Coxswain. “I’ve already grilled the boys. None of them were asleep at their posts. Whoever got in and out didn’t go past them. I think we may have to shift positions so that we don’t get caught again — or we need to post sentries inside and out.”

  “All the more reason to worry,” snapped Harry. “If anyone can just walk in and out without being seen, we had better find out how!” He hadn’t meant to sound so gruff. “Very well, we’ll shift our position. There’s another suitable building across the street. We must do so immediately — and this time we’ll make sure we control every entrance.”

  Settled in the new location, Harry noticed what appeared to be a network interface. He peered at it then stepped back, startled, when the device emerged from the wall.

  “What the hell is that?” growled the Coxswain.

  “Damned if I know, Swain.” Harry shook his head. “But it looks like some sort of interface. I wonder what for?”

  “I know this place hides something from our scanners, and I wish I knew what.” The Coxswain scowled at it. “Gives me the bloody creeps. It doesn’t even look like it’s meant for humans.”

  “It must serve some purpose.” The unusual patterns on the surface confirmed Harry’s assumption that it was an interface. “That looks like the palm scanner we use for security access.” Placing his hand on the surface, he said, “See, it contains an outline of something like a hand.”

  “More like a paw,” remarked Rasmus who had joined them.

  Harry felt a momentary tingle in his hand, and lifted it clear of the surface. “Strange!” He stared at the device, a frown creasing his brow. “I think it scanned my palm. See? There is luminescence in the place where my hand was.” He staggered slightly as his ears filled with strange sounds. He clapped his hands over them in a useless effort to make it stop, but the sounds were inside his head, having entered through his neural link.

  In his cell, Ferghal watched the small group of scientists as they conferred out of his hearing, or so they thought. Hiding his grin by cupping his chin with his hand, he listened to them through the remnants of the AI, using its reconfigured audio pickups to eavesdrop on their conversation. It had taken him some time to adapt bits of the neural network for his purposes. He’d taken care to make it look as if the damage to the system precluded his using it. The last three months had certainly been productive from his perspective, albeit lonely. At least he had made friends with some of his guards.

  “The Brigadier refuses to allow us to make any physical examination, and she’s vetoed using a droid,” he heard the leader say. Ferghal recognised him, the unfortunate doctor whose nose would forever show his encounter with Ferghal’s fist. “But when Dr. Johnstone gets here with the Board, we can get that reversed. In the meantime, I suggest we carry out the planned trials with portable equipment — but make certain it’s isolated and hidden from the main system.”

  “Well,” began another of the party, his arm still in a sling thanks to Ferghal, “after the damage he did to this dome’s system, we’ll need to make sure there is no contact at all with the comlink. It seems dangerous to allow him to enter a network that is linked in any way to another system.”

  “I agree,” said a woman, who Ferghal recognised as the one who’d attended to him while he was in the med-unit. “But I am curious to know exactly how he could do the damage he did. He managed to override the power regulation to large parts of the circuitry, and blew out key components in the process.”

  “That’s supposed to be impossible,” another of the team interjected. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it—”

  “And he managed to prevent our attempts to shut down his link,” said the lab supervisor. “I suggest we move very cautiously with this one. The firewalls and proxies we had in place were useless once he got into the system.”

  “Then you need to lock down the system and make it inaccessible to anyone but us.” Dr Wan sounded impatient. “How hard is that?”

  Not hard at all, Ferghal answered him inwardly. If you give me another chance, my friend, you’ll find out just how much damage I can do. And if you rig up another system, I’ll hack into it and find out what else you’re up to.

  “I hear the troops think there’s another group of survivors. There was talk of one of them being able to do things to the computers on their vehicles. They say he overcame their locator beacons and the failsafe system for infiltration and attack.”

  “Yes, I heard that,” said one of the others. “A group of troopers were ambushed and stripped of their clothing and equipment, then left sealed in a portable dome in their underwear. The attackers took their transport but left its locator beacon giving the auto responses the rest of the patrols expected while making their getaway. They destroyed the transport near one of the alien cities about six hundred kilometres south of here — but there was no trace of the escapees in the wreckage, and those vehicles aren’t normally capable of unmanned manoeuvring.”

  The response to this was lost to Ferghal as his heart leapt with joy. Harry! He had to suppress his desire to laugh out loud. This was just too good. He should have known his friend was alive and well, out there somewhere causing havoc for the enemy. Now he had even more reason to frustrate everything this shower of spáilpíns attempted. Somehow he would find Harry and his team. Somehow he would find a way to get out of here. For the first time since he had awoken in this damnable place, Ferghal found hope and, with it, the determination to escape.

  Chapter 14 — Engage the Enemy

  NECS Vengeance and her fleet dropped out of transit on the edge of the outermost asteroid field encircling the system. The star at its centre formed a brilliant image on the Admiral’s display, and the scattered planets circling it showed varying shades of brown or red as they reflected its light.

  One of the inner ones was a small bright jewel, a home away from home for a small human colony and garrison under siege by a powerful Consortium force. The system provided a valuable source of minerals and ores and a place for emitter satellites and scanners for at least one side in this conflict.

  “In position,” Captain Curran reported from his Command Centre.
“I expect their monitors will be sounding the alert.”

  “I would be surprised if they weren’t already at action stations,” Admiral Hartmann replied. “We have four starships, five cruisers, nine destroyers and twelve frigates on scan with three landing ships in orbital positions.”

  “Confirmed. Our ships are deployed as ordered. This will be close, though, and they have at least four more ships than we do, but the extras appear to be conversions. They don’t belong to any known class.”

  “Good.” The Admiral paused. “Well, we have no choice now — the garrisons are under sustained attack, and won’t hold out much longer if we can’t break this siege. Initiate Variant Twenty-One of my attack plans.”

  To her Flag Lieutenant, she said, “Give me a link to all ships.”

  “Online, Admiral,” responded the Lieutenant.

  Aboard the CS Khamenei, Admiral Bob Gratz studied the scan reports. Satisfied, he nodded. “Good. I expected this. We’ve a slight edge with the upgrades on the Trader, and the Reitz, Albacore, Francini and Asia Star give us some extra strike capability. Deploy for battle in accordance with my orders. The landing ships remain in orbit to support our forces on planet.”

  “Deploying as ordered,” the Flag Lieutenant reported, watching the display.

  The Consortium’s senior Admiral was a bold commander. His plan split his forces into two equally balanced groups, his intention being to divide the attacking forces to allow him to concentrate on the weaker elements of his enemy. He knew Admiral Hartmann well. They had been Midshipmen together in the Fleet, and she was a superb tactician, a skill she had demonstrated early in her career.

  But he was also aware of her weakness — a reluctance to sacrifice ships or men when faced with a choice between pressing home an attack and risking heavy casualties, unless it meant a chance to inflict heavier damage on an enemy.

  His deployment and the minefields he had laid meant his opponent would have to approach along a route his forces could predict, which gave them the chance to target ships dropping out before their scanners and targeting arrays could clear. He was confident his ships could hold off this attack and prevent the relief of the local garrison. His expression was one of grim resolution. The die was now cast. His opponent’s tendency toward conserving her forces would work against her, he was sure.

  Aboard the Vengeance, Admiral Hartmann watched the enemy deployment with a touch of satisfaction and relief. Good old Bob, predictable as ever. She frowned when she noticed the flashing patterns that indicated the minefields and the position of his ships. She leaned forward, her eyes on the screen. “Deploy the anti-mine countermeasures ships in quadrant Alpha, and let’s see how he responds to that.”

  The Flag Lieutenant checked his plot. “Mine clearance force responding.”

  “Good. First cruiser squadron, prepare to support the mine clearance approach. If the opportunity arises, transit through the gap and take the landing ships. Victorious and Emden, move toward the Southern Polar division, but be prepared for my signal to join us when I strike at their flag division.”

  Admiral Gratz was mildly surprised when a small group of strike craft and mine clearance ships dropped out and began to destroy mines on his extreme flank. He ordered a counter strike by his frigates and watched as a cautious skirmish commenced with the two groups playing a deadly game of cat and mouse in and around the minefield. He ordered reinforcements to the area when it became apparent that the mines were being neutralised.

  “They have something new to use on the mines,” he snapped. “Send a squadron of strike craft to tackle their clearance ships.”

  “Their Flag Squadron is closing on the predicted path,” the Scan Commander reported. “They’ll be in range in three minutes.”

  “Prepare to engage. Division Two — move on my signal.”

  Admiral Hartmann breathed a sigh of relief as her scan team noted the enemy ships firing up their drives. “He’s taking the lure. Signal Victorious to launch her strike and join us as soon as the enemy responds. We’ll launch our strike fighters and missile carriers once we’re within their strike range, and then we’ll withdraw. I want to pull him away from his defensive position.”

  “Do we know he’ll follow us, ma’am?” The Flag Lieutenant sounded uncertain.

  She grinned. “Bob Gratz has a tendency to chase, and I want him to chase me.”

  “The cruisers have gone into the gap in the minefield,” reported the scan officer. “They’ve engaged the enemy’s frigates and have them on the run.”

  Another voice cut in. “Enemy cruisers moving toward the Parramatta and de Ruyter.”

  “Keep me informed. Captain Wright knows what I want him to do.”

  The ship shuddered, and Captain Curran’s voice cut into the Admiral’s comlink. “Engaging the enemy — two starships and two cruisers. Strike craft launched and frigates engaging.”

  “Thanks, Ben.” The Admiral turned to her Flag Lieutenant. “Warn our ships — prepare to disengage and pull back to the rendezvous for our formation. If I know Bob Gratz, he’ll take the bait. Are the LSPs in position?”

  “Confirmed. They are in place with their escort, awaiting our signal.”

  “Good. Where is his second division now?”

  “They’re closing on us, in range in five minutes.”

  “At one minute give the order to pull back and send Victorious and her group into their flank.” She concentrated on her screen. “I’m counting on you now, Gratz, my friend. I hope age hasn’t taught you caution.”

  At his station, Danny Gunn watched his targeting screen, concentrating on tracking the ship identified as the primary target for the weapons clusters he controlled. On either side of him a pair of TechRates kept the weapons locked to the target. He couldn’t help recalling a fleeting memory of his former role aboard the Spartan during sea battles with the French, running between the magazine and the guns with his powder charges. That led to thoughts of Harry and Ferghal. He focused again with renewed vigor. This was for them.

  “Fire on my mark.” The voice of the Weapons Commander was calm.

  Danny activated the fire command and waited, his fingers poised on his interface pads. When the order was given, he fired on command. Bright bursts of incandescence illuminated the image on his screen as his weapons hit their target.

  “Shifting target,” he said through gritted teeth as tremors in their own ship told a story of hits received. He focused again on the target, selecting a cluster of weapons pods near one of the ship’s stubby fins. He stabbed the command switch, and again, bursts of incandescence told of satisfying hits. An even brighter spray of plasma burst from the enemy ship carrying with it large sections of her hull.

  “Shift target to the damaged area.” The Commander’s voice was sharp. “Don’t give him a chance to recover.”

  Other weapons pods joined Danny’s as he poured fire into the gaping hole in the stricken ship. Further bursts of fire erupted from the enemy vessel, and the Commander ordered, “Shift target — next in line. Lock to weapon arrays and launch bays.”

  Once again, the target scanners adjusted and focused, and plasma erupted from their weapons. Danny’s team tracked the other ship’s broadside launch bays and caused a tremendous amount of damage.

  “Cease fire. Disengaging. All targeting stand by for reengagement. Track previous target. Don’t lose contact as we move. Link to navigation to maintain relative positions and range.” The orders flowed in a calm, almost bored, yet nonetheless compelling stream.

  Danny made sure his scan was linked to the navigation system. He watched as the ship accelerated out of range then regrouped with her division in the Admiral’s chosen position. Through the comlink, he could hear the reports flowing back and forth on damage and casualties, and hoped that his friends were safe.

  Admiral Hartmann smiled as she watched her battle plot. “He’s taken the bait,” she said. “Warn Captain Kessler to stand by to attack thei
r cruisers with his group. One of their capital ships seems to be lagging. She took quite a mauling. Tell the destroyers to harass her — missiles if they can.”

  “Acknowledged,” came the response. “The LSPs and their escorts are in position and ready to move on your order.”

  “Good. I don’t want them to move yet. I want their main fleet clear of the planet first. Warn Captain Wright to be ready for action as soon as we have their capital ships engaged.”

  “Enemy fleet in range in seven minutes.”

  “On my mark then.” The Admiral felt calm. “Time to close our little trap.” She watched the display then keyed her comlink. “All ships reverse course and engage. His minefield has just become our ally.”

  Aboard the Khamenei, Admiral Gratz realised his danger the moment the Vengeance swung rapidly through a turn that caused the ship’s structure to groan with the strain. For those at the extremities, the swing caused a momentary discomfort as the motion temporarily disturbed the artificial gravity. The ships closed rapidly and far too quickly for any attempt to use micro hyper bursts for evasive manoeuvres.

  The opposing ships opened fire almost simultaneously. Admiral Hartmann glanced at her Flag Lieutenant. “Tell Captain Wright and the LSPs to strike now. Whatever else happens, I want their landing ships destroyed and our LSP troops landed.”

  Alone at home, Niamh listened with growing anxiety to the news. “We have a report that a Consortium fleet has been engaged in battle by a WTO fleet under the command of Admiral Hartmann in the Regulus system. The engagement is still in progress, and we will bring you updates as soon as we receive them.”

  “That’s Danny’s admiral!” Niamh exclaimed. Then the rest of the news report hit her. She considered calling her husband then decided against it. Theo had enough on his plate.

  An idea came to her. She found her coat and slipped out, instructing the transport module to take her to the ancient church that bore the plaque commemorating Harry and Ferghal’s disappearance in 1804, and their presumed death.

 

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