Harry Heron: Into the Unknown
Page 21
“Wings squadrons encountered interceptor craft and engaged them when they refused to stand down. I’ve six landing craft damaged, four barges in repair, and six of my interceptors out of action. Bellerophon and Sydney have some damaged craft as well.” The Commodore paused, watching his unit uplinks. “What’s happening at the spaceport?”
“The civilians are being held hostage, but we’ve got a battalion-strength unit there and a negotiator ready to talk them out. I have a team of Special Ops people on the ground doing recon in preparation.”
“Good, keep me informed. We need to keep the civilian population on our side if we can—but I don’t need to tell you that.”
The Commodore’s link flashed. “Got another call coming in, Brigadier. I’ll get back to you.”
WATCHING AND LISTENING AS HIS GUARDIAN ISSUED a number of orders to different officers in a calm and almost detached manner, Harry was struck by how much the Captain-Commodore was having to keep in his mind. From his command console he dealt with the landing of troops, support of ground operations and the potential for an attempt to attack his squadron, his staff around him always busy. Now a new hologram appeared, and he watched as the Commodore spoke to a fleet captain in the image.
“Task Group Sixty-One, sir,” the caller said, smiling. “It’s my pleasure to report the arrival of Penelope, Phoebe, Aurora and Ariadne in system. We have the landing ship docks Westfalen and Bulwark with us. Our ETA is eighteen hundred hours.”
An expression of relief appeared on Commodore Heron’s face, and Harry realised that his guardian had not left his Command Centre since the commencing of operations. “Mark, welcome to our little dust-up. Your arrival is perfectly timed,” the Commodore responded. “I’m going to spoil your fun a little. I think we may get some visitors soon who have a bit of wizardry to give them an edge. I’ll arrange for you to get an upload on it in the next hour. I want you to take up a patrol line beyond the sixth planet—the blue gas giant. For now, switch to passive scan only—active scanners may give away more than we want to.”
“Understood, sir,” said Captain Boland, his voice more serious when he added, “We’ve been updated by the Admiral. Your order is being copied by Phoebe, Aurora and Ariadne. Bulwark and Westfalen will be ready to launch their landing barges as soon as they’re in orbit. How is the landing going?”
“Several small fire fights—one in progress at the spaceport—but so far fairly smoothly. Governor Kodiak has not yet stood down, but it won’t be much longer, as we control both the orbit stations and the lift anchorage stations. As soon as the latest troops land, we’ll put garrisons into all the major population centres.” He added, “I expect the governor is considering his options even as we speak.”
The Commodore’s prediction proved accurate. Within hours of the arrival of the extra troops, Governor Kodiak and his staff formally renounced office and vacated the government buildings.
Pale and clearly frightened, Governor Kodiak approached Brigadier Kernan. “You have to give me protection, General.”
“Brigadier, sir.” Smiling, Kernan indicated a seat. “I’ve a few more promotions to reach General. Now, let’s get right down to business. I can arrange protection for your home if you think it necessary, Mr Kodiak.”
The governor looked frightened. “No good,” he said, shaking his head emphatically. “They’ll find a way to get to me.” He glanced anxiously left and right. “They’ve got a fleet on the way to deal with your invasion, a powerful fleet.” He swallowed hard. “Even if they win, I’m a dead man.”
The Brigadier frowned. “A fleet, you say?” The message from the Siddhiche came to mind. “Very well, I’ll arrange your immediate transfer to the flagship.”
“THANK GOD WE GOT THE TROOPS FROM THE LANDING docks when we did.” Showing signs of exhaustion, the Brigadier continued. “This place is a major base. We were lucky. They kept their real strength well concealed. Our intel was way off the mark. Purely by luck we got wind of the location of their major bases before they could deploy. Now we’ve taken two of them and have a third bottled up.”
“Your people have done exceptionally well, Mike. I’ve informed Fleet and the C-in-C. We’re getting reinforcements. But with the main fleet twelve weeks away and the nearest ships at least four from here, we’re on our own for the moment.” The Commodore grimaced. “Bottle up what you can’t take out, and we’ll have to hold them down until the Admiral gets here.” Rubbing his eyes, he added, “Someone got the intel on this place badly wrong. According to your reports, they must have at least four troop divisions plus heavy armour and enough aerial support to give ours a problem.”
“Not any longer. They weren’t up to the same standard as our guys in the air, and they didn’t have the numbers to make up for it. Even so, it’s going to be a tough job. Some of their troops are very well trained, and they’re not giving in easily. They are going underground and setting up resistance units.”
“Do they have the support of the populace?”
“Not to any great degree. They’ve made a lot of people angry, which means they won’t receive much support except in settlements where their sympathisers are based. Has the former governor provided anything useful?”
“Not a lot of information, but in light of what the Siddhiche deposited in our data banks, it’s enough for me to know that we have a problem—unless we get some serious reinforcements.” The Commodore hesitated. “Any trace of their legal adviser, Ms Ceacescu, or the two security advisers? The Ceacescu woman is on the latest wanted list. She’s implicated in some legal skulduggery for the Consortium, and she’s mixed up with the Johnstone affair.”
“Negative. They’ve vanished. Gone to ground somewhere in another rat hole the Consortium seems to have been building just about everywhere.” Leaning back in his chair, the Brigadier grimaced. “They’ve been at it for some time. The two bases we cleared are huge and full of equipment that’s as good as ours or better. If their ships are also this good, we have a problem.” His link chirped and he answered. Listening briefly, he shut it down. “We’ve found a way into the largest base. They have it heavily defended and are putting up a tough fight. This gives us an edge. I’ll have to go.”
“I THINK WE’VE SOLVED ONE OF THE MYSTERIES—but now we’ve got another. We’ve taken the base and captured one of the most sophisticated command and communications centres I’ve seen outside of the Fleet Command on Earth.” Showing the strain of the previous twenty-four hours, the Brigadier rubbed his eyes. “The good news is that now we have most of their remaining positions isolated and can pick them off one by one, though we think there may be others we haven’t identified yet. We’ve also released a number of people being held as troublemakers. Many of them are on the list of former members of the Colonial Council or as developers of some of the mines and industries this Consortium bought by forced purchase.”
The Commodore listened, his expression grim. “How many casualties, Mike?”
“Not as many as we feared. It turns out that the so-called Civil Guard are well below their planned strength, partly because they haven’t been able to attract local recruits, and partly because we got here ahead of the full occupation force they were bringing in. That’s a problem we may still have to deal with.” Hesitating, he frowned. “We now know where Ceacescu and the other two were hiding—one is their Global Commander—but they got out and are on the loose somewhere.”
“How’d they get out? Any idea where they might be?”
“According to the people we captured, they left in a submersible just before we broke into the dock. The problem is the only people who know the submersible’s destination are on it.”
“I’ll order a scan of the oceans immediately. There can’t be too many places it can go to.” Frowning in thought, he continued. “They’ve obviously been preparing these bases for a long time. You don’t build this sort of facility in a few weeks or months, and it isn’t easy to hide this scale of construction ope
ration. Somebody back home knows about it, or at least knew about it. More worrying, they must have known the planned size of the forces we would encounter. It stinks of a very carefully planned trap.”
“I’d say very likely, given the kind of heavy weaponry we’ve managed to capture. One more thing, though—we’ve found a completely unknown species of humanoid saurians being held here. The guards were given orders to kill them, but we got there first.” Smiling, the Brigadier added, “I think they must be the species the Siddhiche were so keen for us to find. Have the linguistics people cracked that language sample they planted? We could certainly use it now.”
“That opens up a whole new problem.” Shifting his position, the Commodore asked, “Are they native to Pangaea?”
“Not according to the people we’ve taken. The records we’ve captured state they came to Pangaea from somewhere called Seraphis, but my data says that planet is airless and barren.”
FERGHAL STARED AT THE DAMAGED INTERCEPTOR. “Come on, Fergie, lad, we haven’t got all day. We have to get these circuit harnesses changed so the fly-boy team can get their bit done.” The Leading TechRate opened a panel. “Get that hatch open, will you—we need to isolate the power units.”
Inserting his key, Ferghal operated the latches then eased the hatch open. “What burned the metal away like this?”
“Plasma burst. Real bugger that, the metal droplets go everywhere and do almost as much damage as the plasma.” The LTR paused, easing another panel open. “Open the covers on the connectors while I see what’s happened at this end.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Carefully, Ferghal worked the covers from the heavy duty power couplers.
“You got them open? Great, pass me that coupler key.”
Ferghal handed over the tool and watched as the senior man used it to open the couplings and disconnect them. “Right, that’s isolated the bit we want to work on. The control unit is blown. Run a test on the harness, and start stripping it out while I fetch a spare.”
Acknowledging the instruction, Ferghal moved to where the designated unit was located. This was a new area for him; his section normally did not work on the interceptors and strike craft. The flight maintenance crews did that, but now they needed all the help they could get. He looked up as someone moved between him and the light, casting a shadow.
“Know what you’re doing there, lad? Where’s your Leading TechRate?”
“Gone to fetch the replacement for this unit, Warrant.”
The warrant officer peered into the hatch and nodded. “Good. Yes, that’s a goner. When you get it clear, make sure there are no splatter pellets in the bed.” Straightening, he looked at Ferghal’s ID and specialism badges. “One of Commander Fritz’s boys, eh? I hope you lads can rebuild some of these units. We’ve lost more than we can afford. Damn things aren’t as robust as they should be.”
“Got it out, Fergie?” The LTR was back with the replacement. “We’ll have this one changed over in no time. How many more of your birds need repairing, Flight?”
“Too damn many. When you boys are finished with this one, come over to Bay Ten. I’ve a barge you fellows can do some work on.”
Ferghal eased the damaged control unit out of its bed, carefully disconnecting all the tails as it came free. “It’s out, sir.” Remembering the departed warrant officer’s instruction, he watched for the little beads of metal that a hit on the outer skin produced. “I can’t see any of the splatter here, though.”
“That’s good. Okay, move aside and I’ll get the new one in. Stow that one on our tool carrier. The boss man will want us to try and salvage as much of them as we can, and repair a few, I think.”
He finished reconnecting the power couplings and ran a test. “Good job, all tests correct. Let’s go.”
Noting the activity around them as they walked, Ferghal asked, “What’s happening? I thought we were just going to land the Marines, but this looks like we’re in battle.”
“Someone called it wrong, I reckon.” His companion laughed. “It was supposed to be a case of put the Marines on the surface, arrest a few private security types who’ve taken over, and put the colonists back in charge—but it turns out there’s an army down there, and they’ve got more firepower than they’re supposed to have.” Leading the way round the barge, he whistled as he assessed the damage. “How’d the guys get this back home? Looks like we’ll have a bit of work to do here, then!”
Chapter 21
Gathering Threat
C
hairman Ari Khamenei raked his eyes across the assembled management board. He was not known for his tolerance of failure. Several of those at the table in this meeting were all too aware that matters in their portfolios had clearly not brought the results the chairman required.
He launched right in. “The situation on Pangaea is unacceptable. The failure of our forces to expel the Fleet troops is disgraceful, and those responsible will be held accountable.” He let that sink in. “Our investment in infrastructure to provide a secure headquarters base for our military is threatened, as is our corporate base—if not already lost. The mining there is far too valuable to allow the Confederation or their World Treaty Organisation to control it. Besides which it is essential to our long term goal.” Stabbing his index finger on the table to emphasise his point, he added, “You, Mr Dien, assured the board that our military facilities on the planet were well concealed from scanners—yet they have now uncovered two of our key installations.”
“But, Chairman, both were discovered by ground forces due to the carelessness of the local contractors who left the power and supply access exposed,” protested the small man.
“True, but that does not reassure me that this error was not detected.” The chairman turned to another member of the board. “I am extremely displeased with the latest voting record of our people in Parliament and the Senate. Our representatives are obviously not following instructions. Did we not specifically instruct them to block the motion for this expedition?”
“We did, Chairman,” replied the large man. “But it appears that many of the recently elected members of both chambers were not aware of the benefits of supporting our lead—a temporary reverse, but not irretrievable.”
“I disagree,” snarled the chairman. “The current investigation and the arrest for Dr Johnstone put our entire investment in his foundation’s research at risk. My sources tell me that a number of our key people are already under investigation, and there will be a move against others in the next few days. That’s not what I would call a temporary reverse. It has taken us years to get to this point. We needed only another year to gain control of the Ministries of Security, Interstellar Trade and Science and Exploration. That would have put us in a position to take over the government completely. Your inability to prevent this intervention has ruined the work of several years.”
“Surely not, Chairman! Our new ships and the anti-scanning equipment they carry will allow us to intervene and force the Confederation and its allies to accept our proposals. We know the Fleet ships are unable to see ours. They will be sitting targets for our gunners.” The man emitted a bark of confident laughter echoed by several others round the table until a scathing look from the chairman silenced them.
“That may be true, but it will be another year before we have the full number we had planned,” interjected a small man with a nondescript face but cold eyes. “It is too soon to show our hand until we have all the forces we need. This reverse could expose our controlling interest in the WeapTech Corporation. So far, we’ve been able to build our ships at Fleet expense thanks to the very generous terms of the outsourcing sell-off of their weapons and development divisions.” He gave a mirthless laugh.
“That is true, Mr Gullen, but that might be exposed in the next few months,” purred the chairman. “I’m afraid we have no choice but to reveal our forces now. We have a deeply embedded facility on Pangaea. It has a complete backup for our boardroom, including e
very record, and Ms Ceausescu has taken refuge there. Unless we go to her rescue, she is very likely to fall into the hands of the Fleet and then the Confederate Security. That would be fatal for every member of this board.” He swept the table with his gaze. “We have no option but to send our available ships to attack the seven major Fleet ships currently in the system and to take back the planet.”
“But, Chairman,” protested the large man. “The Vanguard is reputedly the most powerful starship in the fleet. How can ours...?”
“She is also unable to see ours!” snapped the Chairman. “Thanks to our control of WeapTech, we have acquired the same technology that was developed for Fleet, and we have diverted it to our ships, but of course we’ve told the ignorant bureaucrats that it doesn’t work. Our ships will drop out, strike hard, and disable the Vanguard and her consorts. Then they will bombard Fleet ground forces. I have ensured that Vanguard’s weapons will not be operational.”
“But, Chairman, our intelligence agents advise that Fleet already has ships on their way to reinforce the squadron they managed to slip past the parliamentary decision to send only a reconnaissance force.”
“It will be at least a month before the nearest Fleet force can reach Pangaea—more than enough time for our people in Brussels to seize the initiative and get them recalled. We already own all the key bureaucrats, a factor you seem to have overlooked. What are we paying them for?” He glared at the man, who was visibly nervous with beads of sweat on his forehead. “I will not allow our plans to fail. We have too much at stake. Now, give the orders. We will be aboard our own flagship, the perfect vantage point to witness the annihilation of the Fleet squadron at Pangaea. I have no doubt it will do much to recover our position and send a strong message.”