“We cannot give up without a fight, and we may have a better chance this way.” Harry paused to search the AI network. “Ferghal, the link to the Greenbay Orion is still active. Can we start her engines? Can she use her hyperdrives?”
“They were still online when we parked her, and no one has been aboard her except to secure her atmosphere and some equipment from her holds. Why?”
“She will not show as a live ship on the Consortium scanners. They will not expect her to move. Help me quickly. Use the link with me. Get her hyperpods ready while I programme her for an interception course. Hurry — we have little time.”
“Should we not ask the Captain’s permission?”
“There is no time.”
Harry accessed the Greenbay Orion’s navigation system and swiftly did the calculations for the interception coordinates. Several precious seconds were lost persuading the Orion to sacrifice itself to save the squadron.
“It is the same ship that attacked me and left me crippled. I will help you, Harry. Set the course I must follow.”
Harry contacted Ferghal. “Ready? Good, then let’s do it. Activate the engines on my signal.” He paused for a microsecond count, listening to the network clock in his head. “Now!”
THERE WAS A MOMENT OF CONSTERNATION ABOARD the Consortium’s heavy cruiser as the apparently abandoned freighter came to life, her hyperpods lighting up in a great flare of energy. The weapons scanners reported, “Freighter attempting to escape.”
“Ignore it,” ordered his Officer. “We can deal with it later. Concentrate on the frigates.”
In the Command Centre, Commodore Ellerton was equally surprised, but the entire ship had only seconds left to its existence.
Aboard Leander, Captain Rafferty watched his targeting scanners and the navigation plot with impatience. Like the Consortium officers, he was startled by the sudden disappearance of the Greenbay Orion. “What the hell? I thought that ship was unmanned and in stand-by mode.” He realised that no course solution had been transmitted to his own ship’s helm. “Pilot? Where’s that nav solution? They’re going to be on us any minute now.”
THE GREENBAY ORION LEAPT OUT OF HER STATIONARY ORBIT, vanished from the screens for ten seconds then re-materialised, dropping out exactly inside the space occupied by the mid-ship section of the massive cruiser.
The image of two ships sharing the same space lasted a nanosecond before a great flower of flame and debris erupted as the pair mutually destroyed each other. The nearest Consortium frigate shared the fate of her senior ship as the cruiser’s reactors ruptured. The second frigate was luckier or her navigation officer quicker to respond. She leapt out of danger, vanishing into hyperspace even as her consorts disintegrated.
“Got you,” shouted Harry into his comlink, his excitement overcoming his normal restraint. His amplified voice, heard by everyone on board, brought instantaneous silence. He too fell silent as he watched the cloud of vaporising debris expanding where the two ships had been. A cold chill clutched his heart when he realised what he had just done.
He stared in horror as the last fragments vanished from the display and lost their incandescence. He had not expected the ship to be totally destroyed; after all, the freighter was smaller than the ship she had rammed. He had expected to see the cruiser break in half, or perhaps lose a part of its hull. What he had not expected was this total annihilation of not one but two enemy vessels.
In his head he heard Ferghal’s equally shocked response. “Holy Mother of God, what have we done?”
“Saved our ships and our friends,” responded Harry, suddenly uneasy about how easily and quickly he had caused such mass destruction. “We did what our Captain intended to do with our ship. We have only forestalled him, but the destruction is far greater than I expected.”
“Mr Heron.” The voice of Captain Rafferty was flat and emotionless in Harry’s comlink. “If, as I suspect, that was your doing, perhaps you will be good enough to explain what has just happened. In my quarters please, as soon as you have extracted yourself from your EVA suit.” After a slight pause, he added, “As fast as you can.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Harry suddenly felt hot then cold, and his hands trembled. “Right away, sir.” Conscious of the quietness around him and the fact that Lieutenant Orloff and the Master Warrant Officer were very carefully avoiding his eye, he excused himself and hurried to the dressing station, exchanging his suit for his normal uniform, now very aware there seemed to be a clear space around him even in the crowded confines of the dressing station.
WHEN HARRY REPORTED TO CAPTAIN RAFFERTY, HE WAS worried about the responses of the crew, and he felt somewhat defiant and on the defensive, but he composed his expression. He entered on command and stood to attention in front of the Captain’s desk.
“You called for me, sir?”
Captain Rafferty studied him, his face unreadable. “Mr Heron, I don’t know whether I should commend you or charge you. You were ordered to lay in a course for this ship to intercept the cruiser, and you did not. Instead you activated the Greenbay Orion and smashed her into the enemy.” Holding Harry’s gaze, he said, “Why did you disobey an order, Mr Heron? I hope you have a good reason.”
Standing at attention, Harry held his ground. “Sir, I realised that many of my fellow officers and the men had not rigged for EVA and intended to die with you, sir. Then I found that we still had access to the Greenbay Orion controls, and Mr O’Connor was able to activate her engines. I should have sought permission, sir, but there was not the time, so I acted, and I believe correctly, to save this ship and her crew, and I launched the Greenbay Orion into the enemy.” He kept his eyes fixed over the Captain’s shoulder.
“Do you now?” Greg Rafferty exhaled slowly. “Damn it all, Harry, sit down.” He waited until Harry was seated. “You disobeyed an order, but you saved the ship. The one doesn’t cancel the other, but I have to admit that in your position I would have done the same. Next time get permission.” He held up a hand. “I know, there probably wasn’t a lot of time, and your action was correct in these circumstances. You saw an opportunity, and you took it, but you could, and should, have advised me or your officer first.”
The reaction to what he had done made his knees feel weak, and he clenched his fists to stop the tremor. “I shall, sir.”
“Good.” The Captain paused. “I will report this exactly as it has happened and credit you with the decision and the action — and endorse the fact I approve of the action. Do you wish to say anything else about it?”
Harry hesitated. “I did not expect such destruction, sir. Complete and immediate annihilation was not possible when we engaged the enemy in the year 1804. The sight of it troubled Ferghal, and I shall not easily put it aside either.” He raised his chin and held his head higher. “It troubles me greatly to know that I have killed so many people in this one action, but faced with the same threat and choice, I would do it again to protect my friends and to defeat an enemy I have no cause to love, sir.”
The Captain rubbed his hand across his face, his exhaustion showing. “None of us enjoys seeing death or destruction on any scale. Even one man’s death for someone else’s gain is too many.”
“Yes, sir.”
Summoning his android steward, the Captain looked at Harry and said, “Tea? Or perhaps something stronger.”
“Tea if I may, sir.” Harry watched as the steward set a steaming cup before him. “Thank you, Lee One.”
“A pleasure, Mr Heron.” The android placed a second cup in front of the Captain. “Will you have your meal now, sir?”
“Meal? No.” He hesitated. “Have you eaten, Mr Heron?”
“No, sir.” Harry’s stomach growled as if supplying a more urgent answer to the Captain’s query. “We were to return to the Eden base camp for our dinner this evening.”
“Then stay and eat with me. Two meals, steward.” He hesitated. “What did Mr Heron call you?”
“Lee One, Captain. He abbrev
iates our ship designations. I am GP dash Leander dash Zero One. My programming is to maintain your quarters and attend to your meals and uniforms, sir.”
Speechless for a moment, Greg Rafferty glanced at Harry. “Thank you, Lee One.” After the steward departed, the Captain said, “Do you know all our droid stewards by name, Mr Heron?”
It was Harry’s turn to pause. It hadn’t occurred to him that this might be unusual. “Not all, sir, but those I encounter regularly.” He paused. “And the ship, of course. Leander considers himself fortunate to have survived the latest encounter, but is saddened by the death of the Orion.”
Greg Rafferty watched the steward prepare the table and lay out the meal. He’d never considered that there might be some deeper relationship between the ship and these unusual midshipmen, Heron and O’Connor. Moving to the table, he asked, “So you are telling me the ship and each of the stewards has a personality, and they experience emotions as we do?”
Harry took his place at the table. “Yes, sir. Leander feels his damage in the same manner that we feel an injury.” Hesitating, he added, “And Orion died willingly, knowing that in doing so, he saved our squadron further injury.”
The Captain leaned back, studying his guest. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” Making a mental note to explore the matter further when he had a chance, he decided to enjoy his meal, and changed the subject by asking about Harry’s early life.
Chapter 33 – Farewell to Hell
The planet-side assault was driven home with determination.
“They’ve pushed right up to our inner berm in Alpha sector, but we’re holding them.”
“Good. The ships are in trouble. There’s a heavy cruiser and an escort closing on them.” Bob Dalziel cast his eyes about the barren landscape. “There must be something here for them to be this determined to protect it. Have we enough people to hold Alpha? They’re pushing into Bravo sector as well.”
“We’re holding them for now. They haven’t brought up anything heavier than the plasma projectors, and we’ve countered most of those. It’s the aerials the cruiser must have that worry me.”
“Yes.” Bob raised his ranging optics. “Hallo. There’s a new group gathered on that hill. See them?”
“Looks like a command group. Now what?” The Marine officer pointed to the Delta sector. “They’re pulling back. It’s a damn slaughterhouse.” He shook his head. “You know, I begin to understand why these star defences changed warfare — I wouldn’t want to lead an assault on one. The defenders have all the advantage.”
An explosion drew their attention to the sector behind them. “Lieutenant Bradley? Report, please.”
“We bagged two armoured units, sir. Trapped them in the crossfire between the bastions.” Cheering erupted from the direction of Bravo sector, and moments later, from Delta and then the others.
“They’ve had enough for the moment. They’re pulling back.” The Marine officer pointed. “That command group are in one hell of a hurry to get out of here. I wonder why?”
A ComsRate hurried up. “Sir! Commander! Message from Captain Gratz. They’ve beaten the cruiser, sir. Took her out completely.”
“What? Our three wrecks took out a cruiser? You sure?”
“I’d say they must have — look, the Cons are pulling back.” Raising his ranging optics, the Marine officer shook his head. “Looks like they’re regrouping for a major push. I wonder if they know their cruiser is down, or is there another one around?”
THE LULL IN THE FIGHTING GAVE AN OPPORTUNITY for the repair crews to return. Disgorging from the landing barges, they hurried into the defended areas as the barges lifted off again. Their arrival coincided with a renewed assault, sending the tired men racing to defensive positions. Harry found himself on Bastion Charlie with a Royal Marine sergeant above and behind a heavy projector and its crew.
“Welcome to the party, sir. We heard the wrecks managed to send a cruiser to hell. Damn good work.” He raised his ranging optics. “Damn, they’re not giving up. If the DGK can put troops down as soon as she arrives, we’ll have them beat, sir.” The Royal Marine sergeant sounded cheerful despite his damaged armour and the evidence of several wounds.
“She should be here at any moment, but we won’t know immediately, I suspect. Everyone is being very careful about using the signals transmissions.”
Focussing his ranging optics, Harry drew a sharp breath. “What is he doing here?”
“Who, sir?”
“A fellow who gave us a lot of trouble at the College last year, Eon Barclay is his name. Damned fool, I heard he’d left the Fleet. Looks like he turned his coat!” There was little time to say more as several heavy projectors opened fire on the bastion. “Damn, here they come again.” Harry slid behind the parapet, and when he rolled over, he found himself staring at the weapon held by Lieutenant Commander Vallance.
“Sir?”
“Keep your hands where I can see them. You and I are going over the top. You have a date with a certain research foundation, and I have a reward to collect.” Vallance quickly relieved Harry of his weapons. “Now get up and walk in front of me, and don’t even think about pulling any of your usual stunts. I have a transport ready to take you off-world.”
“Then you’d best shoot me now, sir. I will not surrender myself to those people under any circumstances.” Harry rolled quickly, scrambling to gain his feet. The armour deflected the first blast of plasma, but he felt the sting of the heat. With no weapon he tried to close the traitor, but his feet slipped.
The disturbance drew attention.
“Drop the weapon, Commander.” The order came from a Marine Lieutenant flanked by two Marines, their weapons steady.
“Damn you, Heron,” snarled Vallance. “Why couldn’t you just come quietly? Why did you have to force me to do this?” He raised the projector and Harry stared, mesmerised by the obvious anguish in the man’s face.
“I don’t understand, sir. What have I done to distress you?”
“No, you wouldn’t understand,” said Vallance, bitter and spiteful. “None of you would understand what it is like to watch someone you love be destroyed because you can’t afford the treatment they need. The reward for capturing you was my last hope.” He straightened and swung round to face the men hurrying toward them. “Damn you, Heron, damn all of you,” he muttered, and in that moment, a Marine sprang forward to grab the projector.
The blast made Harry wince, and he stared down at the still body of the man he had just been talking to, his stomach turning at the sight of the ugly wound in the head.
The sound of firing and the blast of explosives drew their attention, and he joined the battle for the defence, the sour taste of vomit in his throat.
When the Consortium troops withdrew from fighting, Harry stood atop the berm and focussed his range taker on the distant hill where he’d seen his old adversary Barclay, and was surprised to see the Consortium troops still there, apparently waiting for something. Several gave the appearance of watching for some signal from the camp, and he felt sick again as he realised what they were waiting for.
Scanning the area around them, he noticed a stealthy movement. “Lieutenant,” he called to the Marine officer near the big plasma projector that dominated this part of the bastion. “I see a target. Bearing right, five degrees, range five hundred meters.” He waited while the officer focussed on the group.
“What? That group on the hillside? We don’t shoot at individuals with this weapon, Mid.”
“Not the group, sir. Just to the right and behind them. That tree creature is stalking them. Enemy they may be, sir, but I hope we draw the line at consigning them to that fate, not even a Barclay!”
The Lieutenant refocussed. “Damn, you’re right. Bloody hell, it’s almost up to them. Sergeant!” He gave his targeting directions quickly.
The big weapon pulsed. Harry saw the group of Consortium officers dive for cover as the incandescent stream lanced
past their position. Two more pulses followed as the Consortium group raced to their transport.
“Cease fire. Damn tree won’t be doing any more stalking now. I hope our Consortium friends appreciate the favour, but I doubt it.”
DEEP INSIDE THE CONSORTIUM HEADQUARTERS, THE BASE Commander made an emergency call.
“We’re being evacuated. There will be a flying pickup, but this base must be destroyed completely. The Fleet must not be able to recover anything.” He glanced around, his expression bitter. “All that bloody effort wasted because someone got careless and let three bloody wrecks survive.”
“Is there no chance we could come back and finish setting up the operation later?”
“None. The stuff we’ve installed already would give them too many indicators of what we were planning. No, it will all have to be destroyed. Use a fission bomb. Use as many as we have. Make sure they can’t salvage a damned thing.”
“That’ll have an impact on the local life, sir.”
“Serve them bloody right. We’ve lost too many of our people to them. Time for some payback.” He looked about him in anger. He’d put a lot of effort into building this base and the mining operation associated with it. It would have gone undetected if the idiots at Head Office hadn’t insisted on their attacking the base camp to recover two midshipmen they called research assets.
Working fast, he packed his personal items into a small holdall. He’d chosen to work for the Consortium for altruistic reasons, not to fight wars, but as an opportunity to earn a better wage and explore new horizons while shedding what he considered the burdens of bureaucracy that strangled his home nation and government.
“We have very little time,” he told his assembled staff. “A ship is on its way to collect us, but the Fleet has a squadron on its way as well. It will be touch and go as to who gets here first. And now that our presence is known, they will be looking to capture us.”
The Commander noticed Eon Barclay making an effort to get his attention. Still shaken by the narrowness of his escape on the hillside earlier, Barclay didn’t wait for permission to speak.
Harry Heron: No Quarter Page 30
