War Without Honor (Halloran's War Series Book 1)

by J. R. Geoghan

  Trev slammed his hand on the desk, cutting Halloran off. He pushed back and stood behind the desk, leaning on it and moving his face close. “You do not speak to me in this way, on my station. We may not be Fleet but we are officials and there will be order!”

  Halloran was unfazed. “No one is disputing your authority. In fact, I’m relying on your influence to give my people a chance.” He could fee his face reddening slightly. He’d had his share of pompous officials in his career. He leaned himself closer still. “You are clearly the man in charge—tell me how to get my important information to the leadership in a way that you are recognized for it.”

  Trev’s face showed a mix of emotions as he processed Halloran’s tone, words and insinuations. After what seemed an eternity, he straightened and placed his hands on the back of his desk chair, nodding. “I see no harm in facilitating communication between you and Mars Command. Please provide me with the information you intend to relay.”

  Halloran hesitated; this guy wasn’t to be trusted. “May I suggest that we connect to Mars and I pass the information to you as we begin our transmission?”

  Trev glanced at Krios, then back to Halloran. “This information, it pertains to your ship somehow?”

  Halloran nodded. “Yes.”

  “Tell me the information.”

  Halloran sighed. “My ship contained weapons. Confidential weapons that I should only discuss with the Mars Command. Are there Admirals today?” He figured that with Commanders and Captains there should be Admirals.

  Trev nodded slowly. “Admiral Kendall. There are others but he is the Fleet Commander in Sol System.”

  “Kendall—that’s the guy I need to be talking to. With you at my side, of course.” Halloran tried a conciliatory smile.

  Trev turned away, obviously thinking. “Krios, what is the status of the Praxxan?”

  “With Marra awaiting your orders.”

  “And this human claims no affiliation with the Praxxan?”

  “He was on the ride from Earth with my crew. No affiliation prior,” Halloran said.

  Trev turned, looking like the proverbial cat who had just swallowed the mouse. “Very well. I will hail Mars Command and you will inform me as to the details of your ship’s weapons. I will relay the information to Admiral Kendall and hold you in custody here until the Admiral sends for you.”

  “Custody?” Halloran was reddening again.

  “Consider this my gift, that you and your people are not thrown in the prison cells…yet.” He started around the desk and paused by Halloran, whispering. “All depends on your cooperation with my investigation and report to Admiral Kendall.”

  Halloran wanted to haul off and slug the man, but he kept his cool and only nodded.

  “You follow.” Trev started out the door.

  “Seems like I’m doing a lot of that these days.”

  Chapter 40

  Charon Station

  “Please connect us to Mars Command,” Trev said into his forearm comm unit as he march into the briefing room where Djembe, Deacon and Axxa waited. Djembe couldn’t stifle an audible groan as Halloran followed the station commander.

  Halloran’s eyebrow rose. “Not happy to see me?”

  Djembe ignored him and looked away.

  “Bringing the system online,” replied a female voice from somewhere.

  Trev gestured to the chairs. “Sit.”

  Halloran saw that Axxa was standing. The two exchanged looks. “I’d prefer to stand.”

  Trev shrugged, but remained standing as well. A large screen was beginning to glow on the opposite wall. It appeared to Halloran that the monitor was actually part of the wall itself, rather than a device mounted on the surface. Without a projector in sight. Trev positioned himself in front of the screen and folded his arms in a stance of impatient waiting.

  Deacon was sitting nearby and leaned over. “Tomalloran, is your crew safe?” He asked softly.

  Halloran glanced down at him. “Call me Halloran. And your guess is as good as mine right now.”

  A large word in a foreign language displayed on the wallscreen for several seconds, then faded out as the view passed through the color spectrum rapidly. Finally, it resolved into a face, which said, “Connection established, Charon Station. Authorization beta-beta-eight-four.”

  The female voice responded. “Charon Station authorization delta-gamma-six-six.”

  After a pause, the man looked up. “Authorization accepted. Begin transmission.”

  Trev puffed up. “Station commander Trev for Admiral Kendall. Priority information. Confidential.”

  The man looked dubious. “Priority Information?” Halloran could just tell that the man didn’t think anything ‘priority’ would be coming from Charon.

  Trev frowned deeply at the screen, as if to reach out and strangle the recalcitrant tech with his eyes. “Is there a problem connecting to the Admiral?”

  A short, strained silence ensued while everyone on Charon fidgeted and the man appeared to read something off his screen. Finally, he looked back into the room and smiled—patronizingly, it seemed to Halloran.

  “Admiral Kendall will receive your communication now.”

  “Grays,” Djembe grumbled under his breath to no one in particular.

  The screen flickered and resolved into a view of an office with a dramatic background of red hills through a window. Halloran was amazed at the fact that he was looking at a Mars landscape while standing on a moon of Pluto. “Time to pinch myself,” he mumbled.

  Trev shot him an angry look just as an official-looking officer appeared in the wallscreen. “Kendall here,” he said, somewhat imperiously.

  Halloran took the man’s measure. He looked to be in his late sixties, but Halloran knew that ages were relative in this time of space travel, sudden death but extended lifespans. The Admiral held himself stiffly but his eyes immediately relayed confidence and calm. The hairline was starting to recede and had long gone gray, but it was close-cropped and neat. The uniform—gray—was smooth with gold buttons down the front that looked immediately like fashion statements as opposed to functional. The decorations were there on the upper chest, but were restrained in number and Halloran knew instinctively that the man wasn’t wearing all his honors. He liked him.

  Trev stood straighter. “Admiral, Commander Trev of Charon Station here.”

  “Yes Trev, I remember you. What is the reason for this transmission?” The man’s voice held an interesting mix of humor and grit, as if he was amused yet taking things seriously…just in case. Halloran couldn’t help but grin a little at Kendall’s obvious disdain for the Station Commander.

  “I have news, Admiral…”

  “Tell me you’ve secured our Praxxan defector, Trev. Unharmed.”

  Trev glanced at Axxa, who was offscreen. “Um.”

  “Unharmed, Commander. Tell me.”

  Trev motioned to Axxa, who stepped into the viewing area.

  Kendall blew out a loud breath. “Thank the stars. I see you are actually real.” The older man’s relief was palpable.

  Axxa nodded. “You are the human leader?”

  Kendall nodded in return. “I am. And you are?”

  “Axxa, Second Advisor to the Prime of this system.”

  A voice was heard offscreen of Admiral Kendall’s monitor. “He’s a senior officer. Unbelievable.”

  Deacon stepped deliberately into the viewing area. “I got him, Admiral,” he blurted out.

  Kendall looked taken aback by the sudden appearance, but recovered swiftly. “Young man, humanity owes you an incalculable debt. Very well done indeed.”

  The smuggler fairly glowed with pride. Axxa nodded in agreement. “This human spoke to me often, eventually arguing that I should help your cause in the face of the atrocities committed against your people by mine on Earth.” He stood straighter. “Admiral, I commit myself to the cause of humanity’s liberation from the conquest of Prax.”

  Kendall’s eyes softened. “You’re gi
ving everything up, son.”

  Axxa’s eyes were hard. “More than you can imagine, Admiral. Much more.”

  Halloran, who was watching the exchange closely, caught the glint in the red alien’s eye. Something more is going on here, his mind registered. Axxa was holding something back.

  Kendall appeared not to have picked up on it. “I have a Fleet vessel inbound to Charon to pick you up, Second Advisor. The Valor. Captain Heres has orders to deliver you to Mars as soon as possible.”

  Trev stepped into the viewing area. “Admiral, I have additional urgent news for you.” He was clearly attempting to retake center stage. “The ship carrying this Prax also carried the remains of a Fleet vessel crew.”

  Kendall’s brow rose. “What? What ship, Trev?”

  Trev glanced at Halloran uneasily. When the moment stretched a bit too far, Halloran stepped forward into the viewing area. Axxa and Deacon stepped back obediently, realizing that this was Halloran’s moment. Trev began to push in front of Halloran. “Admiral, this man claims to be the Captain of a vessel that was captured by the Prax on Earth. Let me interrogate him and his crew before reporting back—.”

  Halloran had had enough. He grasped Trev by the shoulders and gave him a shove to one side, firmly pushing him out of the viewing area. Trev stumbled against a chair and Krios suddenly held a sidearm, stepping forward to jam it into Halloran’s back. Halloran stiffened but ignored the weapon, turning back to the screen. “Admiral Kendall, I am Captain Thomas Halloran of the United States Navy.” Krios pushed harder but then the pressure eased. Halloran risked a glance back to see that Axxa had deftly disarmed the human and held the gun at his side, non-threateningly. Without missing a beat, Halloran spun back. “My ship, the USS Bonhomme Richard, was transported through time approximately forty-eight hours ago and my crew massacred by the Prax.”

  Kendall had taken a half-step back from the screen, clearly dumbstruck by this revelation. Halloran watched him react out of one eye as he watched Trev out of the other. The Station Commander, however, didn’t move from where he was. I bet Axxa’s pointing the gun at him, Halloran imagined.

  Someone offscreen on Mars said something to Kendall that was unintelligible.

  “You say you’re a Captain in the United States Navy? The United States of America?” Kendall was frowning in a distressing way.

  Halloran nodded, touching his Captain’s eagle insignia on his collar. “Yes sir. The Bonhomme Richard is—was—the most modern ballistic missile submarine in the world we left. The year 2029.”

  Now Halloran could hear several people arguing offscreen on Mars. Finally, another older officer stepped in front of Kendall, who let him. “Captain, can you repeat your name for us?”

  “Captain Thomas Halloran, United States Navy. Commanding officer USS Bonhomme Richard, Hull number SSBN-seven-six-oh. Commissioned Twenty-Five November 2028. Date of inciting incident Twenty-One August 2029 at Pearl Harbor Submarine Base, Honolulu, Hawaii.”

  The man half-turned to Kendall. “Hawaii…it’s just not possible.”

  Kendall stepped forward, gently moving the officer aside. His eyes suddenly softer. Barely. “Captain, how many of your crew survived?”

  “Sir, we managed to escape with forty-three. Unfortunately we needed to leave twelve behind on Earth due to weight restrictions of the craft that flew us off. I have thirty with me here.”

  Djembe was on his feet. “Tell them they owe me.”

  “Who was that?” Kendall asked Halloran.

  “The escape ship pilot. He says you agreed through Deacon here to pay for the recovery of this Prax. He requests additional payment for transporting my crew and me here.”

  Kendall nodded. “Fair enough. But Captain, we’re having a hard time here with your, ah, story.” He glanced off-screen and nodded to someone, then looked at Halloran. “Can you describe—.”

  Halloran cut him off. “Sir, if I may…the Hyper-Trident pure fusion ballistic missiles aboard the Bonhomme Richard were the target of the Prax attack on our ship.”

  “Pure fusion missiles?” Kendall was looking off-screen again and some voices were being raised in the background there. “What’s that?” Kendall said to someone to his left. “It can’t be.”

  Without warning, the room on Charon changed color from normal lighting to red. An alarm began to sound. After a long moment, Trev bounded toward the door with Krios following, the rest of the group suddenly forgotten.

  Kendall’s figure was frozen in place, the transmission cut.

  Everyone left in the room stared at each other.

  “What is happening?” Halloran asked loudly, over the alarm. “Can we get Kendall back?” He felt the fury welling inside. He’d been so close.

  Djembe pushed past him. “Something is happening here in the station.” He was at the door, looking up and down the hall.

  Halloran gestured to Axxa and Deacon. “Stay close.” He ran after Djembe as the pilot sprinted up the corridor, glancing in any open doorways. After a number of turned corners, the group came upon a man in security garb running in the other direction. The man tried to dodge around them in his hurry and managed to slip through Djembe’s hands.

  “Grab him!” The pilot shouted.

  With a lightning-quick motion, Axxa seized the man by the waist and slammed him into the bulkhead, placing the muzzle of the sidearm still in his red hand against the man’s neck. “Stay.”

  Everyone clustered around. “What is happening?” Demanded Djembe.

  The man looked at each of them in turn, his eyes going wide when he realized that it had been a Prax who stopped him. “It’s…it’s…” he stuttered.

  “Out with it, soldier,” encouraged Halloran.

  “Enemy infiltration into the station.” The man’s eyes were wild. “Prax!” He was positively terrified of Axxa.

  “This Prax has been with us the whole time. He’s not a threat!” Djembe was angry.

  “Not…him.” The man pointed at Axxa. “A ship…docked. They are coming!” The man tore himself from Axxa’s grip, ignoring the tip of the weapon. Axxa glanced at Halloran, who nodded. The Prax let the guy go. Without looking back he ran off down the red-tinted passageway.

  “Why’d you let him go?” Djembe looked at the gun in Axxa’s hand. “Give me that!”

  Again Axxa glanced at Halloran, who shook his head. The Prax held the gun out of the reach of the pilot, who grabbed for it.

  Halloran straightened. “Let’s get back to my people and see what we can do to head off whatever is happening.”

  “I thought we were safe out here at the edge of the system,” Deacon grumbled.

  Djembe gave up trying to get the gun from Axxa, looking suddenly embarrassed at his display. He stopped and folded his arms to recover poise. “How do we navigate this maze?”

  Halloran looked around, trying to get his bearings. “I think this way.”

  Two more station personnel ran past, paying little attention to the group. They continued up the way that Halloran had indicated.

  “Good enough for me.” Halloran took off after the two, waving for the others to follow.

  Mars Command

  “Get them back…now!”

  Kendall paced his office, hands clasped behind his back. It was times like these that made him want to throw something—or someone—through a wall.

  “Sir, the transmission was a clean cut at their end. Hailing them without response.”

  Kendall pointed at the officer. “Get them back!”

  Admiral Krug pounded on Kendall’s desk. “We need to learn more about this old warship!”

  An aide said, “Did you see the station lighting fade to red? They were going into lockdown.”

  Several other aides were chattering back and forth, voices raised. Kendall shut them all up with a pound on the wall nearest to him. When all were in attention, he gave orders. “Krug, work with what you were given by this Captain Halloran in the transmission. Analyze the recording for authenticity. Verify his
uniform and insignia. You,” he pointed to an aide, “pull up what records we have here on twenty-first century warships, looking for a ‘USS Bonhomme Richard.’ I want a full report on that vessel and its offensive capability on my desk within the hour.” He looked at Krug. “If this man was really a senior officer he’ll leave a record—find it. What’s the status on Valor?”

  Another aide called, “In deceleration for Charon, sir. Estimated arrival in less than thirty.”

  “So Heres isn’t the cause of their transmission being cut.” Kendall resumed pacing. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Krug.”

  “Meaning?” Krug had paused at the Admiral’s door.

  “Meaning I think the Prime wants his defector back.”

  Chapter 41

  Charon Station

  Kendra pushed back in the seat, adjusting the rest to accommodate her head. Travers did the same in the seat next to her.

  “You’ve no idea how happy I am to have you along on this trip,” she offered as she closed her eyes, testing the position.

  “Playing buffer from your adoring fans, is that all I’m good for?” The younger officer smirked, nodding knowingly.

  “It’ll be over soon enough once we reach Coloran.”

  “I saw that young admirer hone in on you like a guided projectile.”

  Kendra rolled her eyes. “He’s the son of a mining family.”

  Travers chuckled. “I’ll watch your back—”

  The rest of his comment was drowned out by the sound of an alarm blaring.

  Kendra unbuckled and leapt to her feet. “What the…”

  “Please remain calm,” spoke a voice on the general comm system. “There has been a limited security breach on Charon Station. Our departure will occur as scheduled.”

  Travers glanced sharply at Kendra. “What’s a ‘limited’ security breach?”

  Kendra bent over and looked out the viewport at the station itself, seemingly peaceful across the way from the ship. “I’m going to look.”

  Travers followed her gaze. “Why? That’s what they have security forces for. What are you going to do?”