Commander Henry Gallant (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 4)

by Alesso, H. Peter

  “You’re still worried about my fidelity?”

  She didn’t have to answer. Her expression indicated she was.

  He looked at her eyes—bright, intense, searching eyes. Once he had thought he could see into those eyes, but now he knew them for what they were—well-trained practitioners of deception and manipulation—hard, disingenuous, untrusting black orbs.

  CHAPTER 26

  Martial Law

  Revolutions start at a tipping point—a magic moment when an idea crosses a threshold and spreads like wildfire. The execution of William Treadwell was that moment for Elysium. Its people couldn’t understand the dramatic change their world had undergone in so short a time—changing from a tropical paradise dealing with a dangerous, but controlled outside threat—to a world besieged from within. The rivalry within the population was aggravated by the blatant interference of Neumann, who instead of crippling the people’s protest movement—had created a martyr.

  As the outbursts of popular rage and rioting grew more violent, Neumann’s response was to declare martial law and send his marines to enforce it. Nothing could have been worse for the public to endure. Soon the violence spread to the mines and a general strike was called. All vital manufacturing and production work stopped—dissention became rebellion.

  Despite his belief that Neumann was supporting the new settlers to further his father’s private interests in the NNR Corporation, Gallant was conflicted about providing supplies to the rebels. He realized that the façade of industrial development was NNR’s way of controlling the population and he bitterly blamed himself for letting circumstances get this far.

  The Warrior remained in orbit near the Achilles and the lone destroyer. Each ship was tending to its injured and undertaking repairs. Gallant was disturbed that Neumann didn’t coordinate on repair requirements between the ships and Elysium. He was forced to meet with Wolfe to arrange for the repair parts he needed.

  He was surprised at the cold greeting he received. He nevertheless requested assistance in repairing his ship.

  Wolfe asked, “You’ve completed your mission?”

  “Yes.”

  Gallant thought that his success was a bitter pill for Wolfe to swallow.

  Wolfe felt inside his breast pocket.

  A curious gesture, thought Gallant, who realized later that he must have had two messages, one in each breast pocket, to be delivered depending on Gallant’s request.

  He opened the paper and handed the message to Gallant. The letter was longwinded, but the content was terse and absolutely rude, as Gallant quickly realized. It was a formal declaration by the Elysium Council prohibiting the Warrior from utilizing the resources of the planet in any way. Gallant reread the letter.

  “You know the contents herein?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you explain their intent?”

  Wolfe was haughty and said, “Can you explain your unfriendly behavior toward this government and the indirect support you’ve expressed for rebels in word and deed?”

  “Rebels?”

  “Yes. Since your departure we’ve experienced disruption and rebellion attributed to an outgrowth of your support.”

  Gallant guessed that this was not a letter sent without some understanding with Neumann. He could see that the political arena of Elysium was unstable.

  “Very well. My compliments to the council, the Warrior will make no demands of your facilities.”

  Wolfe looked at him with surprise.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I regret I must return to my ship, I have work, to do.”

  Gallant left upset, but newly resolute.

  He had a strong sense of duty and honor that had always served as his guide. He would never let himself be untrue to those ideals, even at the cost of his life. He had to be the man, he believed himself to be. He couldn’t live as less. As a result, he took a leap of faith, and he decided to succor the rebels to the utmost of his power with non-lethal aid—food, medical supplies, and communication equipment. He had always been one to follow the rules, so he was surprised at himself for having made this decision. It placed him in conflict with his duty to UP, even if it was the outgrowth of Neumann’s abuse of authority.

  His first instinct was to simply order his men to load the required supplies and fly away with them without saying more, but he stopped himself. He could not betray their trust by dictating their participation in an illegal act.

  With the exception of McCall, Gallant gathered his senior officers in the wardroom.

  He said, “You understand, I’m about to connive a string of felonies, starting with violating the imposed martial law of Commander Neumann, the ranking authority for this star system. I intend to carry embargoed supplies to named outlaws in breach of United Planets’ law. Our sympathy for the injustice being carried out against the natives of the planet wouldn’t do anyone any good if things go bad. I will bear the full weight of responsibility, but you all will face reprisals. Nevertheless, I’m still asking for your help. Can I count on you?”

  Not satisfied, the weapons officer asked, “Why Captain? Why are you doing this?”

  Gallant looked at him and then at each of his other officers, and then he said what he believed, “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  To his relief every one of them agreed to back him.

  Since the marines were enforcing the martial law using high technology, they were able to monitor all electronic communications and use electronic surveillance to prevent groups from gathering. On the other hand, the rebels relied upon low tech to survive. They had to sneak to meetings and move by boats and pack animals to transport supplies across the ocean and through the dense jungle.

  Roberts and the senior officers signed the requisitions for the listed items from the ship’s stores and carried them to the cargo bay. Then they loaded the shuttle.

  Gallant flew alone to a tiny island off the coast of New Kauai where he planned to meet a rebel band. The smuggling operation would be carried out at night. Together they would sail the supplies to the rebel’s base in the caves off the coast of Halo. He was gambling with not just his life, but with the lives of the people of this community. He hoped to eventually avoid open warfare and negotiate a truce between the rebels and Neumann, but he knew that would take time and patience.

  CHAPTER 27

  Smugglers’ Cove

  The boat had a small outboard motor for navigating in port that Gallant didn’t use while under sail on the open ocean. Crowded into the small craft with him were three rebels along with the supplies he had brought from the Warrior. He sat in the cockpit keeping the boat one point off the wind heading due west to New Kauai from his landing site on a tiny desert island a hundred kilometers off the coast.

  The moonless night was windy and rainy which were all good things for smugglers trying to avoid marine patrols and satellite detection, but it also made sailing a small craft on the ocean exceedingly hazardous. The cargo was a mixture of supplies, all of which were badly needed though Gallant was doubtful they would affect real change.

  A fine misty rain was falling when they approached the beach east of Halo. It was nearly time to land at the selected place and rendezvous with the rebel party. A signal light flashed and he steered toward it. The shallow draft boat floated close enough for several rebels to swim out to meet it. He stepped on to the wet sand and the waves washed over his boots. He saw Liam and Alaina running out to meet him.

  “Here. Here.”

  “Good. We’ve found you.”

  They shook hands. The rebels he had ferried with him traded places with Liam and Alaina and one new man. Together they relaunched the boat at high tide to sail to over a barrier reef and up the channel to their hidden lair. Gallant tacked the boat into the wind and slowed their progress hoping to gage if all was safe as they passed over an area of reefs. He was eager to complete the second leg of the voyage to the smugglers’ cove.

  The boat was overflowing and the waves were coming over
the combing, but following Liam’s direction the trip only took thirty minutes. He steered the craft back into the shoals and into a small inlet cut into the face of a massive cliff rising high above the water. They lowered the sails and ran out the oars to begin muscling their way into the cove. The stars were bright, but with the moon down they could barely make out their landmarks.

  The ocean waves crashed upon the cliff’s rocky shore, striking a mist of spray that shot up high into the air and road the sides of the cliff up to the bluff. The woods running along the cliff’s backside were pitch black and muddy. With the cliff above and the jungle behind, the cove was well-hidden.

  Thankfully, the rain stopped in time for debarking. They pulled the boat up onto the shore where another dozen rebels were waiting. There was little talk as they began working. In the dark, they began unloading the food, medical supplies, and communication equipment from the boat to the beach where pack animals were waiting to be loaded—in keeping with the escapade’s low tech approach.

  Alaina went up the cul-de-sac and across the ground; her worried expression matched the changing shadows.

  When Gallant heard a movement behind him, he straightened up to get a look, he had a sense of danger, but there was nothing there, only the wind. Somewhere not very far away, near the trees, a branch snapped. There was a lightning flash in the distance and he heard an animal bark. He climbed and stumbled over rocks with the surf pounding and the waves crashing. Retaining his misgivings, he peered at the ocean but still saw nothing.

  As the unloading proceeded, he heard a sharp exclamation from one of the men farther up the beach and looked to where he was pointing. He dropped to one knee and let his senses search the horizon.

  He wiped the rain from his face. Then he saw them. There was a score of marines at the edge of the cliff scrambling toward the cove. A search light beamed down the shoreline directly at the smugglers.

  Events moved quickly as the rebels began cursing and running.

  “Halt, there!”

  “Soldiers! There are soldiers at the rendezvous.”

  “Halt, I say.”

  “We’ve been betrayed.”

  “Halt! Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  The surprised rebels scrambled to escape in disorganized confusion. There was a smell of panic in the air. Down at the beginning of the shoals, there were lapping waves from the tide now dotted with splashing bodies. One man jumped into the ocean and began swimming, another ran down the beach away from the approaching marines, others ran inland toward the dense growth of trees and rocks.

  Gallant followed Alaina into the dense jungle growth hoping to get lost in the brushy shadows. They found a path along the jungle’s edge. He heard the blast of a plasma gun shot into the air as a warning. He kept running and so did everyone else. He quickly lost sight of Liam and the boat.

  The marines were now tangling with the smugglers hand to hand. The rebels were no match of the well-trained marines, but their desperation lead to struggling bodies. There was nothing Gallant could do. He heard more shots. Screams and cries of pains were abruptly cut off.

  Unexpectedly, a marine lurched at him from out of the trees. He struck him and knocked him back. The marine quickly recovered and struck Gallant in the head with the butt of his rifle, knocking him to the ground semi-unconscious.

  As Gallant lay spread-eagle on the ground defenseless, Alaina swung a block of drift wood hitting the marine in the head and knocking him out. It took her a minute to revive Gallant. He felt her hand on his shoulders and put his arm around her waist to steady him. She wiped the blood from his head and helped him limp along the beach. Like survivors from a shipwreck, they made their way to safety. She led him to a small cave where they were able to hide for nearly an hour.

  In the cove, the battle between the marines and the smugglers continued. Four of the smugglers were injured and captured, one was dead. The dead smuggler was a young man with a wife and child. Several marines were also badly bruised. The prisoners were gathered, handcuffed, and taken to the town jail.

  A few rebels escaped and managed to sail the boat back out to sea.

  Gallant and Alaina sat with their backs against the rocks and watched while the action on the beach abated. Then when the sea grew quiet, she helped him on to her flyer which was hidden a short distance away. Her face was wild with excitement when she flew madly into the air. When they got into her house, she put an ice pack on his head.

  Her voice was urgent and frightened. “Henry, are you alright?”

  “I am now. I still don’t know what happened, but you saved my life.” He squeezed her arm. “Let’s see if anyone else makes it here after that terrible business.”

  They waited for nearly an hour while the ice improved Gallant’s swollen red lump.

  They were surprised when they heard pounding at the front door.

  Gallant was surprised to find Captain Pickett and a half-dozen of marines standing before him.

  “I beg your pardon for the intrusion, sir,” said Pickett. “I am searching for Liam Larson. Is he here?”

  Gallant stiffened at being so directly challenged. He was about to order the captain away but quickly realized that would not produce a satisfactory outcome. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat before he said, “No. He’s not been here in some time.”

  A look of disbelief crossed Pickett’s face. “Is that so? Then may I ask who else is in the house?”

  “Just the home’s owner, Alaina Hepburn.”

  Looking at Gallant’s forehead, Pickett said, “That’s a nasty bruise you’ve got, sir.”

  Gallant touched his hand to the bruise. “Yes. I was careless and ran into a blunt object.”

  “So I imagined, sir,” said Pickett, but there was a flash of comprehension in his eyes. His pleasant disposition disguised a powerful soldier. He was as tall as Gallant with close-cropped red hair and a square jaw that stuck out displaying a dimple in his chin.

  Gallant leaned against the wall of the alcove while Pickett stood a meter away seemingly making up his mind. Then with a quick look behind him, the captain ordered, “Deploy your men, Sergeant.”

  The sergeant began issuing orders while Pickett stepped inside the doorway and said, “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but I am of a mind that he will come this way, so my men will have to search the area.”

  “Surely not. Why should he come here?”

  “It’s my understanding that he has an interest in the young lady who lives here. I’ll just find a chair and wait,” he said, pushing his way past Gallant and into the living room, “if you don’t mind, sir.”

  As Pickett made himself at home in a large reclining chair, Gallant tried to stifle a “Humph,” but it came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

  “Why are you looking for him?”

  “Rebels, sir.”

  “Liam? A rebel? I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s not for me to say, sir.”

  “What will happen after you’ve captured your rebel and locked him up?”

  “I’ll leave that to the courts, sir.”

  Alaina came into the room and introduced herself. Pickett rose and gave her a gentleman’s bow before returning to his seat.

  “Will you have a glass of wine, Captain?” she asked.

  “Thank you, ma’ am. I will.”

  Gallant opened a bottle of Alaina’s wine and poured a glass for each of them.

  “What have the rebels been up to?” he asked.

  “Smuggling weapons at the cove down by the beach near here.”

  “Weapons? Why do you think Liam had anything to do with the trouble on the beach?”

  “People talk, sir. It would grieve me if your friend were involved. Where did you say you saw him last?”

  “I didn’t say, but the last time I saw him was a week ago at the mine.”

  The captain half smiled. “I am here as a soldier to do my duty, nothing more, sir. I trust you’re a man who knows his duty too.”


  A look passed between the two officers.

  “Of course, Captain.”

  Gallant assessed Pickett as a good-natured, shrewd, but single-minded officer who intended to carry out his orders despite any interference. Nevertheless, his presence was a horrible nuisance.

  Because of his throbbing forehead, what happened earlier that evening was already receding from Gallant’s memory—slipping backward in time at an unnatural speed making him think none of it was real. Yet he still felt an immense pressure driving him to an inescapable conclusion—events were spinning out of control.

  ***

  Gallant searched Pickett’s face. His eyes held a mixture of candor, irony, and menace.

  After an hour Pickett said, “I’m sorry for having disturbed and inconvenienced you. I’ve just been informed that the rebels was been spotted near Mt. Brobdingnag. I’ve been ordered to proceed there to apprehend them.”

  After he left, Alaina flung herself into Gallant’s arms.

  She said, “I wish there were a place where we could shed all our cares and be together in peace.”

  “Where is that place? I’ve never found it,” he replied.

  She sighed, and then said, “We must warn Liam.”

  Shaking his head, Gallant said, “We’ll be right in the middle of a gun battle . . .”

  She interrupted, “There’s an old abandoned mine shaft on the Brobdingnag Ridge that the rebels have used in the past. I’m sure that’s where they’re heading. We have to warn them. If we get to them in time, we can stop any gun battle. I’ll show you the way.”

  Gallant considered contacting the Warrior, but he was at a loss as to how he could ask his crew to put themselves in jeopardy.

  “OK. Let’s go.”

  She stepped outside just as the heavens opened up and the showers resumed. She said, “We’ll take fliers to the jungle crossroads and then hike along the mountain trail until we find them.”

  As they got on their flyers, Gallant said, “I’ve forgotten what fun these souped-up bikes are.”

  He pulled his goggles down, kicked the flyer into gear, and throttled forward. A moment later he was tearing through the sky behind Alaina’s flyer.