The Enclave (The Verge)

by H. M. Clarke

  The Enclave

  H. M. Clarke

  Copyright Text H. M. Clarke 2014

  All rights reserved

  Published by H.M. Clarke at Kindle Direct Publishing

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  This book is available in print at most online retailers

  Cover Design by Cheryl Ramirez, www.ccrbookcoverdesign.com

  DEDICATION

  As always, this book is dedicated to my two beautiful children, Keith and Ariadne.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  1

  Chapter One

  2

  Chapter Two

  3

  Chapter Three

  4

  Chapter Four

  5

  Chapter Five

  6

  Chapter Six

  7

  Chapter Seven

  8

  Chapter Eight

  9

  Chapter Nine

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  hapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  About the Author

  Other titles by H.M. Clarke

  Connect with Hayley

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to thank my families, both old and new as this book could not have been written without their support.

  Chapter

  One

  The first refugees arrived just before dawn.

  And as the sun rose slowly above the horizon many others quickly joined them. The airwaves outside the City Barrier were humming with activity - requests for help, assistance or for entry into the city.

  For over three hours the requests and pleadings of the refugees remained unanswered as the New Holland City officials discussed, fought and bickered over what actions they should take to deal with these requests. The Val Myran markings on their ships showed that they are from the Alliance and could not truly be trusted, but the New Holland Security and Intelligence Organization have been reporting that strange things were happening in Val Myra. Many of the prominent Val Myran families including the Val Myra family itself have been advocating seceding from the Alliance in favor of joining the Federation of which New Holland was a member.

  Now it seemed that these same families are now knocking at the gates to be admitted. Adam Chandler, First Councillor of New Holland and leader of the Southern Hemisphere of Junter Three, tossed the viewpad he was reading to the man standing across from him.

  Robert Prockter caught the tablet deftly in one hand and glanced at it before commanding it off.

  "Is this all the information you have?" Chandler asked in an even tone. Prockter knew that the First Councillor was annoyed; he was a man that did not like to be caught off guard. It was a feeling that Prockter shared.

  "It is the most recent we have. We have not heard from our implanted agent for nearly a month. This," Prockter gestured at the viewpad, "is the last report we received before losing contact."

  "It doesn't explain the mass of people waiting outside. It doesn't explain our loss of contact with the Alliance City over the border." Chandler stalked over to the sideboard and quickly poured himself a whiskey from the crystal decanter. He did not offer one to Prockter.

  Prockter watched The First's every move, carefully noting how the man reacted in a crisis. Prockter had been the head of the New Holland Security and Intelligence Organization (SIO) for the last ten years and he had so far survived three First Councillors. This current First was hoping to be the first person to be re-elected to a second term of office. Personally, looking at Chandler's neatly groomed blonde hair, his polished good looks and his 'boy-next-door' style; Prockter did not think he could pull it off.

  Adam Chandler quickly drained his glass and immediately began to pour himself another one. He had drained half of that glass before turning back to the stiff standing Prockter.

  "New Holland Prefecture does not fund the SIO to supply it with rumor and innuendo which is what that report amounts to Director." The First quickly downed the rest of his glass before turning back to the sideboard for a refill.

  Prockter raised an eyebrow at this outburst. The information in this report was presented to the Council just under a week ago and was backed up by independent reports from other trusted sources. The Council accepted it as truth, even though at first they did not want to believe it. Prockter could clearly see that the report submitted by his Val Myran operative stated exactly the reasons why there were now refugees waiting outside for asylum.

  The same chain of events have happened several times in recorded human history - the most notable occurrences both happened in the twentieth Century, repression by governments causing the mass migration of people and millions had been killed because of their beliefs, ideas, ethnicity and political leanings.

  "First, the rest of the Council disagree with you. As you know they are waiting for your agreement to their proposal."

  "Yes I know!" Chandler snapped. "I do not agree with their decision, it just galls me that I have to put my name to it." Draining his third glass, the First quickly stormed back to his desk; snatching the viewpad that Prockter held out to him on the way.

  Prockter remained silent as The First commanded the 'pad on and quickly scanned through the Council proposal for the tenth time. Prockter continued his study of the man, very aware that he in turn was being observed. The Director knew that Chandler had never been comfortable in his presence, it was an effect he had on most people. It was a nasty side effect of his position. Prockter shifted slightly on his feet to get the circulation moving again. He would be sixty-three in two months time and he was not looking forward to it. Prockter knew that outwardly to most people he would look like a middle aged man, just standing over five and a half feet tall with closely cropped salt and pepper beard and hair, his stocky frame contained in well tailored suits and highly polished shoes. He was self assured but at this point in time he was also worried.

  The First dropped the viewpad on the desk and leaned back in his leather chair. Prockter could see the man's 'reluctance' but the First knew what he had to do. After a few moments Adam Chandler moved forward and scooped up the viewpad and looked at it one last time as if hoping that something will leap out and impel him not to sign.

  But that did not happen. The GenTec Scanner at the bottom of the viewpad blinked demandingly for his signature. The First raised his thumb and after another moment’s hesitation placed it on the sca
nner. Chandler felt the gentle prickling as the scanner read his DNA profile and attached a copy of it to the proposal.

  "There, it's done," said Chandler quietly dropping the 'pad to the desk as if it burned him. "Let the bastards in. Then we will really see the shit hit the fan."

  A residential part of New Holland had been earmarked for demolition and was going to be reclaimed by surrounding parkland. Now the Council had decided to use it for housing the Val Myran refugees. The Director had organized the SIO to direct this 'relocation', processing the refugees while ensuring that there were no Alliance spies among them.

  Chapter

  Two

  "You will do as you are ordered Commander."

  Katherine Kirk fumed. This cannot be happening. Not now!

  "Sir. We have Hyde's ship cornered and I want to be there for the end game. Surely the man can sit tight for a few more days."

  Admiral Baverstock's voice hardened over the commlink. "The operation to capture Hyde is not for your personal vendetta Commander."

  "No Sir. Of course not Sir." Katherine tried to master her anger and made one last ditch effort to wheedle out of this new assignment.

  "Admiral, the AFV Adelaide is an operational frigate, not a luxury personnel cruiser. Can't this Ambassador take another more suitable vessel to his posting?"

  "You have been specifically asked for Commander Kirk, and Fleet Command does not like to have its orders questioned."

  "Fleet Command? Who is this ambassador?"

  "I don't know. Probably the usual stuck-up bureaucratic type." Admiral Baverstock paused; when he next spoke all formality had disappeared. "Katherine, you've been stuck out here on the Verge for the last two years under my command. You're a good officer, I wouldn't have given you command of the Adelaide otherwise. But the informal attitude we have out here will not cut it back in the Central Systems. You will have to curb your tongue."

  Katherine latched onto the Admiral's informality. "Bryan, delay positing the new orders to the Adelaide. Please, you know how important getting Hyde is for me."

  "I know. But Fleet Command expects you at Port Curtin in ten hours. The only excuse for your no-show after that time would be if you were dead." A sigh crackled across the link and Katherine knew she had lost the argument. "I'm sorry Katherine, my hands are tied. As I said, once you get to Curtin, don't make a fuss. I want you back within the folds of the Third Fleet ASAP."

  "Yes Sir." It wasn't a committed response, nor enthusiastic, but it was the best Katherine could manage.

  "I expect you back at Port McMahon in time to escort Hyde to stand trial Commander."

  "Of course Admiral."

  The comm link chimed off and Katherine let out a cry of frustration. Why now? Why not next week or even tomorrow? But these questions were moot - There was a snotty nosed diplomat waiting for her at Port Curtin, probably just dying to try and over whelm her with his puffed up importance.

  I can't stand bureaucrats - and diplomats and their staff are the worst of that loathsome breed. It was a three-day babysitting cruise to deliver a diplomatic mission to Junter Three, a rebel city there apparently wants to be welcomed back into the folds of the Earth Federation. I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw them. Junter was the system that produced Hyde. And Hyde was the man who devastated her life by killing her husband and son with a cowardly attack against her husband's home colony. And now, just when she had Hyde in her grasp, Fleet took him away from her.

  Katherine clamped down on her rage. Though it was tempting to delay and tarry here for the three hours it would take to get Hyde, she was a sworn officer and could not disobey Fleet Command orders. They expected the Adelaide at Curtin in ten hours; she would be there in eight.

  Katherine straightened her brown hair before tugging her cap firmly on her head and then took her black uniform jacket from the back of her chair and slipped into it. Best to start practicing the façade of formality for the bureaucrat. Her Executive Officer is going to love this, Richard can be a bit of a stickler for formal dress. Her Second Officer on the other hand was not going to like this change in orders at all - a lot of the crew would be on the warpath once the order is given.

  Katherine glanced at herself in the mirror. Better show my face and get this over with, she thought as she buckled her jacket and took one last look at her reflection in the glass. Let’s go then.

  The AFV Adelaide was a compact deep space frigate that carried enough firepower to get out of a jam but not for a sustained battle. Katherine was proud of her ship. For the two years she had been its commanding officer, the Adelaide had seen Katherine and her crew through more scrapes, fights and tight escapes that she had lost count. And now when the Adelaide was on the cusp of her greatest victory, it was to be ripped away to do a babysitting run for Fleet.

  Stop it. Don't let your thoughts go there. Don't let the crew see your disappointment. Easier said than done.

  Katherine left her quarters and made her way steadily through the narrow corridors up to the operations deck, nodding at and accepting the salutes as she passed. Everything looked and sounded normal. But as soon as Katherine stepped into Communications a wall of silence hit her. All eyes in the Comms Area were focused on one man.

  Serviceman Johnson was sitting in his seat holding a datapad and looking at it in shock.

  "Fred, take it straight to the Captain," said the man in the seat next to Johnson.

  Fredrick Johnson turned startled eyes to the speaker. "The Captain is going to have a meltdown when she reads this."

  "That may be the case, but you still have to tell her that new orders have come in."

  Katherine had to stop the smile that tried to appear on her face. "Don't worry Johnson. I already know about the orders contained on that datapad. Admiral Baverstock just informed me of them."

  Johnson's face quickly sagged in relief, and then suddenly tightened again. "Captain, if you don't mind my asking. What do you plan to do?" Johnson's eyes noted the rarely worn jacket and tidied hair and very obviously jumped to the wrong conclusion.

  "I plan to follow those orders Serviceman. They come directly from Fleet Command."

  "But Commander, we are so close to getting Hy-"

  "I know Johnson. I know."

  Johnson had made his home at the same colony as she and her family had. The same colony that Hyde destroyed. About a third of Adelaide's crew was made up of Adveral Colonists - the place was attached to a military service base after all. A lot of military families were killed or maimed and the military survivors on board signed with the Adelaide on the promise of personally being there to get Hyde. Now she was being made to break that promise.

  Life can be a real piece of shit sometimes.

  Katherine held out her hand and Johnson passed her the datapad, his face somber. "Thank you Johnson." The man nodded and quickly turned back to his console. Katherine passed her eye over the rest of the Comms bay and watched as men and women guiltily turned back to their consoles as if they had been caught doing something they should not have. Katherine tried not to sigh. Speaking with Johnson triggered a guilty feeling of her own. She should have fought harder with Admiral Baverstock to delay posting this order - but Katherine now knew deep in her heart that there was nothing she could have said or done that would change the outcome. Though, Johnson's unvoiced suggestion that they deliberately disobey Fleet Command's direct order was tempting, it would have the flotilla that now had Hyde penned up, come after the Adelaide instead.

  Walking quickly from the Comms bay, Katherine passed into what she thought of as the heart of the ship. She stopped on the edge of the raised deck and gazed down at the men and women working in the bays around her. She took a moment to glance at the orders on the datapad. They were short, clear and straight to the point. She was given no room for leeway or misinterpretation.

  "Captain."

  "Lieutenant Commander," Katherine replied. She looked into Richard Coulthard's dark and frowning face. The news from the Comms Bays
had travelled fast. Katherine watched as her Executive Officer took in the ridged stance, the full uniform and the white knuckled grip on the datapad.

  "So, it is true. We are being turned away when we are so close," he said quietly so that only she could hear.

  Katherine wordlessly handed the datapad to her XO. He took it and quickly scanned its contents.

  "Babysitting! We are being ordered out so we can chauffer around some jumped up little diplomat?" he hissed.

  "You do not ignore a direct order from Fleet Command Richard as Admiral Baverstock strongly reminded me."

  "I see."

  "No delaying tactics, no dawdling. We have ten hours to get to Port Curtin and collect our passenger." She gave Coulthard a wan smile. "Nothing in life ever goes the way we want it to."

  "Occasionally something should go our way," Coulthard muttered as he moved passed her towards the helm.

  God she was glad that he was the one to issue that order. Coulthard had become a fast friend when she had taken command of the AFV Adelaide. He was new to the ship himself then, having transferred from the AFV Whyalla to be the Adelaide’s new XO. They were both born in South Australia and grew up in and around the Flinders Ranges. It was what gave them their initial connection. And she was thankful that Admiral Baverstock had assigned her an XO she could work with, that she could trust.

  Katherine watched as Coulthard stalked down the gangway towards her before looking at the large vidscreen near the Command Centre. Hyde's ship still lurked in the Aster Block in an effort to shield itself from their sensors, but it was only a matter of time before Battle Group Two would get him. The first move to push him out was due to commence in less than three hours time.

  She sighed and turned as Coulthard stopped behind her. "Mr. Hunter says that he will have us at Curtin within six hours. The quicker we shepherd this diplomat, the quicker we can get back to the Third Fleet to see what happens to Hyde."