Captain Hawkins (The Jamie Hawkins Saga Book 1)

by H. Alesso

  On one occasion, Hawkins found a few moments to get-together with Hale, out of sight of prying eyes.

  Hale said, “The chance of escaping this hellhole with all its manifold security controls is so slim that you have to reach true desperation before attempting it.”

  “The only prison you can’t break out of is the one you build for yourself—in here,” said Hawkins tapping his head.

  Hale said, “There are electronic sensors on the prison cells, around the guard tower, and throughout the barbedwire fences. Add video surveillance and numerous guards, none of which are easily thwarted, and we will still need a way to escape from the planet.”

  “There are numerous small cargo freighters in port on any given day. We have access to them while we’re loading and unloading them. It might be possible to steal a small ship and depart this rat hole before Seward kills us all.”

  “Escape would require a diverse and talented crew. I know a few rebels who might be willing to take a chance on escape, but none of them can operate nuclear reactors, or astrogate,” said Hale.

  Hawkins stood up and swung his arms wide, he said, “Look around—this place has men of every known skill and talent. As long as we’re discreet, we can recruit the men we need. All we have to do is offer them the opportunity.”

  “But even if we were able to steal a ship, it would be shot down by the heavy guns from the fortress, as soon as it was detected.”

  “We’ll need a talented computer programmer to hack the security systems.”

  “What about your young friend, Joshua?”

  Hawkins agreed, “Yes. He can be trusted and he has a natural talented for coding software. If we can get him access to a cybersecurity terminal, he might be the one to disable key sensor components.”

  “I have an idea about how to do that and I know the coordinates of rebel base Echo in the asteroid belt that would give us sanctuary, if we ever made it that far.”

  Great!

  “We have assets, some of which are hidden, some of which will take persuasion, but how we use them, will decide if we survive. It only remains for us to be creative.”

  “Time may reveal our solution.”

  Hawkins said, “If I can talk to some of the men and explain my plan, I may win their trust.”

  Hale said, “You already have a cache of goodwill among those who heard of your stand at the Newport hospital and witnessed your fight with Lasseter’s gang.”

  Hale continued, “To recruit specialized techs, we can only approach candidates we trust not to betray us, who can keep their mouths shut. They might turn us in, or want to join even if they are not invited, or they might talk too much to others and start dangerous rumors.”

  “Caution is essential. Don’t worry, I’ll find the men we need—including an astrogator and nuclear engineer.”

  Hawkins chuckled, “We’ll put together a crew that can handle anything space can throw at them.”

  ***

  A few days later, true to his word, Hale succeeded in gathering a dozen men in the maintenance tunnel by bribing a guard to look the other way.

  Hawkins shook each man’s hand as Hale introduced them. They remained standing in a circle while he said, “I’ve wanted to meet you and offer you a chance—a chance to escape this unhappy planet. I’ll admit, it’s not much of a chance, but if it’s only one chance in a million of finding a life away from Seward and his whip, it’s one I’m willing to take.”

  The darkness hid the uncertainty that he knew was on their faces.

  Hope. I must give them hope.

  “Some of you have heard about what happened at the Newport hospital. Many of you saw me brawl with Lasseter’s gang,” said Hawkins, “I’m willing to stand up and fight for you as well.”

  A short squat man said, “OK, Hawkins, make your pitch and make it quick, before the guards get curious.”

  Hawkins said, “It may be possible for us to steal a cargo ship that will take us far away from this hell-hole. There’s a rebel base in the asteroids where we can find shelter and support—a life of freedom and decency. I believe, together, we can get there.”

  Shaking his head, the squat man said, “I’ve only five more years to serve. If I attempt to escape there’s no going back.”

  Hale asked, “Will Seward even let you live five more years?”

  There was a universal groan.

  One man spoke out, “Fine talk, but I can’t even dodge my cell surveillance.”

  “We have someone who can disable certain prison sensors and deceive some of the planetary radars,” said Hale.

  A huge grizzly bear of a man said, “My name is Bill Simmons, everyone calls me Gunny, and I’m willing to take a gamble with you. Can you use a weapons tech?”

  Hawkins curled his lip into a fulsome smile and laughed, “Ha!” He extended his hand and Gunny’s giant paw closed around it. He gasped, “Easy, big fellow, I’m going to need that back.”

  Several men laughed.

  “I want you to know, that I’m going,” said Gunny, his voice filled with emotion. “I’m going to leave this place and never look back.”

  “Go? Go where?” asked the squat man.

  “Away! Anywhere! Just anywhere away from this accursed planet,” said Gunny.

  “Alone?” said the squat man his sullen frown growing across his broad face.

  “Alone, or not, I’m going.”

  Gunny had full-of-fun red cheeks and a surprisingly jolly disposition despite his intimidating size. He was the kind of man Hawkins wanted.

  I like this big fellow.

  Next a man of ordinary features, with a quiet manner, and a ragged appearance, spoke up, “My name is Robert Mitchel and what I want to know is can you use an engineer?”

  Hawkins raised his eyebrow and said, “Definitely.” He sensed he was winning them over. He looked around the circle, from face to face, and asked, “Are you with me?”

  A chorus of yes, yes, yes, erupted—including the squat man, who turned out to be an astrogator named Williams.

  Hawkins told Joshua, “Your job will be to disable the prison cell sensors and the planetary radars when we’re ready to make our break.”

  Joshua said, “If you can get me access to the controls of the AI sensor systems, I can manipulate them so the guards will think we’re in our cell. I can also hack the planet’s long range sensors to prevent our ship from being detected.”

  “Are you sure you can do that?” asked Hawkins.

  Feeling rejuvenated by his involvement with the escape committee, Joshua said, “You pick the time. I’ll deliver.”

  Hawkins was pleased with this core group. The chief risk was that someone might talk out of turn. Over the next few weeks, he began recruiting former soldiers and crewmen, but then things slowed down. They waited for the right opportunity and it took longer than they anticipated until finally, Hawkins announced, “We’re ready.”

  Hale said, “Then it only remains to find a ship that will serve.”

  ***

  A few days later, they were ready to make their plan a reality.

  “Tomorrow,” said Hawkins.

  Hale nodded and the word was passed to each of the conspirators.

  While assigned to a work detail near the spaceport, Hawkins brought Joshua with him to repair a sensor control terminal. From the control panel, Joshua was able to modify the base’s sensors and manipulated the data to disguise radar blips to register as large a meteor instead of a ship. It was merely a matter of size and clarity. The sensors were now giving distorted reports to the sensor tech on duty. The deception would give the rebels a chance to escape in a stolen ship.

  Everything was ready, but the waiting rubbed the prisoner’s nerves raw.

  Tomorrow seemed a lifetime away.

  CHAPTER 8

  Twist of Fate

  The following day—the day of days—there was a twist of Fate.

  An unexpected sandstorm shrieked across the Zeno desert with a ferocity that dwarf
ed past humbler cyclones. The wind and sand ate away the veneer of buildings, ships, and vehicles alike, stripping their superficial irregularities, and leaving behind smooth surfaces streaked with stains. The streets were clogged with sand and strewn with branches and debris. Heavy machinery left outside was choked with grit. Outside the prison, the colony’s inhabitants huddled in their fragile prefabricated shelters, waiting for the onslaught to end. The storm obscured all evidence of human activity and the colony looked like a dusty gray ruin.

  “Stopped, before we even got started,” said Hale, crestfallen.

  Hawkins knew he was right to be concerned, but wrong to think there wasn’t a remedy.

  Hawkins shook his head. “Not stopped; only delayed. We’ll push our plans out by twenty-four hours. How much difference can one day make? Besides, the whole complex will be in chaos after this storm. It’ll make stealing a ship that much easier.”

  Hale said, “OK. We’ll leave the modified sensors in place and go forward with our plan at 0600.”

  ***

  But the next morning, while Warden Jacob Seward was busy torturing a prisoner at the whipping post, a tremendous roar shook the entire colony. The blast drowned out the prisoner’s agonized wails and reverberated in the thin atmosphere. All eyes turned skyward.

  Incredulous, Seward screamed, “Attack! We’re under attack! Hellion is attacking.” It was a tragic flaw in his temperament to always arrive at the essential point, too late. He shook his fists skyward in wild fury and ran for shelter.

  Guards and prisoners alike scattered like sheep. A weapons battery just outside the prison opened fire, sending a missile into the sky.

  Safely inside the prison bastion, Seward turned furiously on his guards. “What happened at the fortress? They must have all been asleep to let this enemy sneak up on us.”

  With each crash of falling missiles, Seward screamed orders that defied logic, sending his forces scurrying aimlessly in disarray.

  Seward foolishly ordered his men to gather in a vulnerable location that was immediately hit by an accurately aimed missile. Thus the enemy was able to dispatch a significant amount of Seward’s ground forces while simultaneously rendering the facility, ineffective as a prison—the prisoners were set.

  After establishing contact with the fortress, they confirmed that a Hellion warship was orbiting the planet firing weapons down onto the battlements. The warship’s fire was focused primarily on the fortress and as it reduced the defenses, the ship moved into a lower orbit to improve the effectiveness of its weapons.

  The warship was a frigate, a single raider: not a major combatant, but formidable nonetheless. It was equipped with ray guns for ship-to-ship combat and missiles for planetary bombardment. The ship had used stolen transponder codes from a Jaxon ship to get close, but that hoax wasn’t even necessary. Joshua’s computer virus had utterly fooled the long-range sensor techs.

  ***

  All of Hawkins’ crafty plans to confuse the long range sensors to further his escape, had made it easier for this interloper to take advantage and seize the prize out from under him. The warship had succeeded so well that it aroused no suspicion until it was within optimal firing range. Then it was too late for the fortress to raise its shields to mount a proper defense, consequently, it was significantly reduced after only a few minutes of bombardment. He assumed the Hellion would destroy the fortress and then land troops to sack the spaceport and steal its great wealth.

  Hawkins couldn’t bear to watch. He stood in the prison courtyard, bitter and frustrated, staring skyward with unseeing eyes. All his careful preparations for escape crumbled around him.

  As missiles continued to demolish the prison walls, the prisoners scattered into the surrounding hillside, all except Hawkins and his cadre of conspirators.

  But their gloomy faces spoke volumes.

  “What infernal bad luck! The Hellion chose to attack on the very day we were set to escape. We will never escape in a ship now. We’d be blown apart,” squawked Hale. “If only that sandstorm hadn’t delayed us yesterday—of all the infernal bad luck!”

  His face set, Hawkins stood tight-lipped with hand to his brow to shade his eyes as he looked up.

  Clenching his fist and raising it skyward, he said, “Attacking the colony appears to dash our plans of escape.”

  Suddenly, he threw back his head and laughed, “Ha! Bad luck?! This may prove to be, just as much, a blessing, as a curse?”

  “What do you mean?” Hale asked, bewildered.

  Hawkins said, “We need only adjust our plans, slightly, to insert ourselves into the equation of this battle and make it play out in our favor.”

  Debating the odds, he watched the trails of smoke as the missiles plunged to earth and saw the vessel—a tiny streak—maneuver and fire again. Would the missiles kill them all before they could escape?

  “How is that possible?” asked Hale.

  “Instead of stealing a small cargo vessel, we will steal something bigger and better.”

  “Bigger?”

  “Yes!”

  “And better?”

  “Yes,” said Hawkins. “Where you see disaster, I see opportunity. Where you feel despair, I feel hope. Listen to me, do what I tell you…and before this day is out, you will taste victory!”

  At Hawkins’s words, his men’s gloom vanished. They turned eager faces to him, desperate to believe they still had a chance.

  “First, find me a dead officer,” said Hawkins.

  Among the numerous bodies of fallen soldiers, they soon found a captain. Hawkins quickly changed clothes with the officer and took his security key card and told his followers to swap their prison garb for Jaxon uniforms as well. Next Hawkins led them to the armory, using the captain’s key card to gain access and distribute weapons. Finally, he ordered them to the relative safety of the maintenance tunnel.

  “Stay there and wait for my signal,” he said, “I’ll call after the enemy has landed assault troops. Trust me.”

  Wearing the dead captain’s uniform, Hawkins left the prison in a single seat flyer and flew to the fortress. There he found the Jaxon troops in chaos. The dust and debris of broken ramparts and bulkheads were everywhere. The fortress was in a state of devastation and confusion. Its shield strength fluctuated, providing limited protection. Half the heavy weapon systems were already blown up and in a rubble heap. Many of the remaining weapons were not manned, or disabled. None were being properly directed. Many of the garrison men were either dead, or had fled. The remaining soldiers was utterly disheartened and reduced to helplessness by a complete failure of leadership. Only a resolute, but green, lieutenant remained in the fire control center and, he appeared befuddled and completely overwhelmed.

  Hawkins went into the control center and faced the lieutenant just as another barrage struck the weak outer shield. The building shook, but the shield held for the moment.

  How much longer?

  He demanded, “Will you stay here cowering until there is nothing left but ruins?”

  Startled the lieutenant replied doggedly, “I will remain at my post until death.”

  Hawkins saw his own reflection in the young man’s eyes. He smiled and said good-naturedly, “Fool, think ahead. If you stay here with the heavy mobile guns, we’ll have nothing left to repel a land assault.”

  The lieutenant appeared stunned.

  “Take half these men and the remaining mobile heavy weapons and missile launchers into the surrounding mountains. Set up an ambush along the main road from the port to the city,” Hawkins commanded briskly. “I will stay here and defend the fortress as long as possible.”

  As the lieutenant hesitated, Hawkins goosed him into action. “Look sharp, man! Put that resolve of yours into a worthwhile effort instead of wasting your life here.”

  Lieutenant was not imaginative, but he was disciplined and recognized a sound plan when he heard it. He realized that Hawkins’ orders made more sense than the nonsense orders Seward had spouted, but he as
ked, “What can you do from here against the enemy?”

  “It is always best to let your opponent see what’s in your left hand while you pick his pocket with your right. My simple distraction here will move the enemy into position, so you can catch him in the flank when the assault troops land,” said Hawkins, feeling exhilarated.

  The lieutenant said, “I may lack experience, sir, but I admire the shrewdness of your plan. I’ll carry out your orders with all my strength.”

  “Excellent.”

  “But sir, shouldn’t you let me remain under fire in the fortress while you arrange the ambush?”

  “On the contrary, Lieutenant. After giving you time to move the mobile weapons into the mountains, I will abandon the fort—it will probably be rubble by then anyway—then I will lead an assault on the enemy warship with our shuttles.”

  The lieutenant gasped.

  Hawkins said, “Our position demands dreadful sacrifice. In effect, we must consider ourselves—expendable.”

  “Once again, sir, you assume all the risk. Shouldn’t I….”

  Hawkins was already thinking ahead. “No, Lieutenant, it will to take some finesse to get the shuttles close enough to the warship to do any good. Trust me; you’re better used, hidden in the woods with the artillery to ambush the Hellion landing force. If you accomplish that, I’m prepared to lead a surprise attack on the enemy ship.”

  “Brilliant, sir. I’m sure it’ll work.”

  “Thanks. I hope so. We will be vulnerable in the shuttles. So I would appreciate your restraint in not firing on any shuttle craft until I signal that your help is needed.”

  “Yes sir, of course, sir,” said the lieutenant, his words tumbling over themselves in his eagerness “Just…one more thing, sir, if I may?”

  “Yes.”

  ““What…what is the Captain’s name? I don’t recognize you, I’m sorry to say.” “Captain Hawkins,” he replied, suppressing a smirk at the irony. “As it happens, I am newly commissioned in the Jaxon army, and whether that turns out to be a fortunate occurrence for you, or a poorly timed misfortune for me, remains to be seen.”