Harry Heron: Into the Unknown

by Patrick G Cox

  The Captain tried a new approach. “Governor Kodiak, as you know, I am ordered to take control of the space port and the planetary docking stations on Pangaea. I would appreciate your ensuring that, in order to avoid any unpleasant incidents, all of the Civil Guard personnel you have stationed at these facilities are stood down before I commence disembarking my garrison troops.”

  “Impossible, Captain,” squeaked the governor in his irritating high-pitched voice. “The minute I do that, the dissidents will attack and sabotage them. As I keep telling you and the Parliamentary Committee, we are not the perpetrators of this situation. Our investors have been more than generous to the original settlers, but those squatters don’t know the value of the land they’re occupying. They persist in destroying corporate and government property in their ridiculous demand for the control of certain assets and the future development of those. Ms Ceausescu here has done everything she can, legally, to address their demands, but they refuse to act reasonably or rationally.”

  “Governor, I take note of your concerns, but my orders are clear. Our garrisons will land and take control of the facilities before your people leave. The moment my people are in place, your Civil Guard are to stow their weapons in the facility guardrooms.” Watching the reaction of one of the two men standing behind the governor, he added, “It would also be advisable for your people to remain in the facilities until we are satisfied that no sabotage attempts are likely to arise during the handover period. It would be most unfortunate if anything were to happen during that time.”

  “Captain, I must protest your assertion,” spluttered the governor. “The suggestion that the Civil Guard would actively allow anyone to sabotage these essential facilities is a serious slur.”

  “You misunderstand me, Governor. I am sure that nothing will happen to the facilities while your men are in them. What concerns me is that something might be attempted after the handover.” Again, he watched the facial expressions and furtive glances of the three people standing behind the governor as he said this, and decided to toss in another grenade. “As a precaution, I will be landing the planet-side facilities garrisons using the landing barges and not the lifts. You have two freighters in dock. We will want to inspect the cargo manifests and the cargo itself before they are permitted to depart. To facilitate that process, they must remain in the dock until I give authority for their departure.”

  The larger man interjected. “You haven’t the authority to do that. The IPD Greenplanet is a freighter under charter to Interplanetary Development. She’s fully loaded and ready to ship out. A delay could mean a loss of cargo, as she is carrying perishables.”

  “Mr Cromwell, I am well within my authority to impound that ship and her consort. You have a copy of my orders in front of you. I’m sure Ms Ceausescu has already been through them thoroughly.” Pausing, he watched their reaction. “I note your concern, but I will have no option but to impound, seize or disable any ship that attempts to leave the dock without authority.” He let them digest this for a moment then added, “By the way, I sent an investigative flight of interceptors to look at an unmanned station in the asteroid field. We spotted it as soon as we dropped out of hyperspace. It appears to be an unauthorised surveillance station.” The three men exchanged shocked looks, confirming his suspicions. “Of course, if it is Confederate property, it will be moved to a more open position.”

  The governor reluctantly agreed to stand down the Civil Guard and accept the suspension of his authority as soon as the ships entered orbit over the planet. When the hologram vanished, James Heron smiled. “From the reaction we got on the satellite, I’d say they’re worried that we spotted it.” He waited as his command team laughed. “I’m hoping the recovery team get something useful from the debris. The more we know about how they hid that satellite from the scanners, and perhaps the way they hide their ships, the better.”

  THE COMMODORE WATCHED AS THE GREAT BARGES, each loaded with its full complement of troops and equipment, emerged from the gaping launch bays in the leading edges of the great lateral fins of the three starships. In a stately dance, they flew in formation on the descent toward the surface of the multi-hued planet called Pangaea.

  “First wave of landing barges clear,” Commander Gray reported. “Estimated time of flight, one hour twenty-two minutes.”

  “Very good, maintain tracking. Load and launch second wave in thirty minutes.”

  “Yes, sir. Second wave ready for loading.”

  “Order combat escort to cover the entry zone. Insert Squadrons Seven-Three-Seven and Eight-One-Seven into the atmosphere to provide air support and recon for the Brigadier. Send them in ahead of the barges.”

  “In hand, sir.” Nick Gray paused. “Signal from Lieutenant Pederson, Green Leader, sir. The barge has recovered a device, a shield generator of unknown type, that wasn’t showing on their scanner—almost ran into it, in fact. They’ve recovered all the larger bits, mostly stuff that bounced into the asteroids and didn’t reach escape velocity.”

  “Well done, bring them back. Report as soon as you’re aboard. Notify Fritz and his science wizards so they’ll know what to expect.”

  TO HARRY, THE LAUNCH WAS ENTHRALLING. He had the perfect view of all that was happening around the fleet in the 3-D display above, around and beneath his feet so that the entire command team appeared to be suspended at the centre of a vast sphere. So enthralled was he by the sight that he had difficulty concentrating on his assigned tasks.

  “Enjoying the view, Mid?”

  “Aye, sir—er—ma’am.” Harry dragged his eyes away from the latest group of heavy transports launching themselves toward Pangaea. There seemed to be none of the turmoil he associated with preparing for battle. The officers around him were calm and focussed as they watched the movement of the various ships in the 3D display.

  Astrid Kölner, Acting Navigation Commander, smiled. She found Harry’s old-fashioned manners rather nice. “We’ve a bit of a break now we’re on station. Help me run some checks on the gravitational effects of the three moons. We’re inside the orbit of the largest moon, and we’re close to that of the middle one.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am.” Though this was a new concept to Harry in that he knew the moon caused the tides on the Earth, the effect on ships such as the one he was now sailing on had not occurred to him until recently. He took his pad and pen in hand. “I am ready, ma’am.”

  AT HIS SEAT AT THE EXACT CENTRE of the great spherical display in the Flag Command Centre, Commodore Heron monitored the progress of his forces as they deployed. Open channels with the commanding officers of his two consorts allowed them to keep each other informed of every development as their strike craft, landing barges and boarding parties deployed. Sydney’s objective of taking over Orbit One went without a hitch, but Bellerophon’s boarding party found the Civil Guard on Orbit Two spoiling for a fight.

  Addressing the disgruntled and evidently frightened Governor Kodiak over the open channel the man had insisted on, the Commodore said, “Governor, your troops on Orbit Two have attempted to prevent the boarding party disembarking. Is there a problem controlling your forces?”

  “My people say they were fired on by the boarders. They have simply taken up a defensive position in response to that hostile action.” The governor fidgeted. He didn’t realise how many nervous indicators he displayed, thus betraying his attempt to deceive.

  “That is complete nonsense,” said the captain of the Bellerophon on the secure link to Vanguard. “The governor’s troops prevented our barges from docking. We have it all on image recorders if they want to argue the toss later.”

  “Governor, someone at your end is giving you false information.” The Commodore paused. “As you know, we record all situations like this, and our records show that the station was locked down and the barges prevented from docking. They cannot have fired on your people. I insist you order them to stand down immediately, or I will instruct my people to take the station by
whatever means are necessary.”

  “I will do my best, Captain,” wheedled Kodiak. “I’m sure it is all a misunderstanding.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable as he turned and addressed someone out of range of the link’s imager. There appeared to be a rather awkward exchange, and then the governor was facing them again, looking flustered. “It seems that the communications with the platform are not functioning, Captain. Perhaps you can give us a little more time to restore them.”

  “Governor, our checks show that there is nothing wrong with the platform’s antennae and certainly nothing wrong with the tether cables for the lifts. That suggests that you have a rogue commander aboard that station—or you are deliberately delaying our boarding for some reason. My patience is running out. Order your men to stand down and accept the boarding party or we will board and take it anyway. Anyone attempting to use the lift will be stopped, and any attempt to fire on our boarding party will be regarded as a hostile act. Please make that clear to your Civil Guard. You have four minutes.”

  Now looking very worried indeed, the governor turned off his mic and held apparently heated debate with several people seated around him. With three of the four minutes expired, the governor said in a resigned voice, “Captain, my officers on the docking platform will surrender to your invasion forces—but we do so under protest. Orbit Two is wholly owned by the Interplanetary Development Consortium and is private property. The Consortium has every right to defend its property from illegal seizure.”

  “Governor Kodiak, as you well know, this is not a seizure. We are acting under lawful orders from the Confederation of Northern Europe and the World Treaty Organisation. The orders are perfectly legal and within the terms of the current interstellar treaties. The Consortium, as a commercial operation, is subject to the elected governments concerned. Your protest is noted and rejected. Any further attempts to frustrate the execution of my orders will be regarded as an act of hostile intent and will be dealt with accordingly.”

  The Commodore saw with satisfaction that the captain of the Bellerophon had already placed his boarders in position, ready to take the platform by storm. Seconds ticked by, then the docking platform bays unlocked and signalled readiness to receive the barges. Within minutes, the platform was in the hands of Bellerophon’s Marines, and the Civil Guard occupants were herded into a holding area while their fate was decided. Much would depend on what the security teams discovered as they swept the platform for indications of sabotage or any sign of delayed action devices.

  When barge V66GP slipped into the Vanguard’s landing bay, it was immediately surrounded by a security team led by the Master at Arms, Commander Dieffenbach. He insisted on inspecting it before it was dismantled. Several things about it struck him, not least that it had been attached to an antenna array and was powered by a storage cell. It did nothing until a scanning device was activated near it, and then it set up a distortion field rendering it invisible to the scanner.

  Chapter 20

  Regime Change

  HARRY FOUND IT VERY FRUSTRATING being confined to the ship while all the other midshipmen were directly involved in the landing of troops and the action on Pangaea or the space around it. Some were engaged in commanding the massive barges as they shuttled back and forth between ships or the lift stations and even the surface. Instead, he found himself assigned to Acting Captain Grenville, Commander Curran, and occasionally, the Commodore.

  In this capacity, he often occupied a front-row seat in the command centres with their three-dimensional projections of the space surrounding the ship, and occasionally he witnessed a relay from the surface of Pangaea. From the messages and orders he overheard, he knew that several battles were fought. The interceptor and strike squadrons were also engaged, and he wished he could be a part of it.

  Used to having a much more active role, he found it difficult to be relegated to the role of spectator.

  The one compensation was the opportunity it gave him to escape to the Observatory. He did so on this day, and his sketches of the planet, its moons and the ships drew the flattering praise of Katerina de Vries. She’d found him busy drawing one of their consort ships, and admired his skill, chatting and teasing in a manner he found pleasantly flirtatious. He had the distinct impression that she had come to the Observatory on the off chance that she would find him there. He couldn’t think of any other reason that she would be there at this time of day, as he usually had its serenity and sanctuary all to himself.

  Quite often, her behaviour toward him was overtly familiar, but he put that down to modern attitudes that he was still getting acclimated to. Nonetheless, he found it stimulating, and he enjoyed her company. After some time, she said that she was expected back in the med centre and didn’t want her boss Len to pop a vein when he found her missing.

  During this momentary lull in the activity, Commander Curran found Harry in the Observatory. Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Katerina had just departed.

  “Ah, there you are, gazing at the stars and drawing again, I see. While we have a moment of quiet, Harry, I want you to go down to Maintenance and confirm that Barges Victor Six Eight and Six Fourteen have been repaired. Six Twelve is still out of commission, and I want it back in service as soon as possible.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Harry scanned the tablet, quickly taking in the list of defects and damage to be repaired. “I look forward to the opportunity, sir.” He headed to the great cross-hangar, a place full of memories, as that was where he, Ferghal and Danny had suddenly appeared almost six months previous.

  “One moment, Harry,” Ben said, calling to the youth, whose brisk pace slowed as he turned and stood at attention. “I know you see this duty as a sort of punishment while your fellow mids have all the fun, but in many ways, you are fortunate. You are here, in the Operations Centre, learning all that has to be juggled to ensure that an operation of this scale goes like clockwork, and any hitches are dealt with immediately before they jeopardise the operation. You’ve the opportunity to follow the Captain in the ship’s Command Centre, and to study the ship handling. And you are sometimes in the Flag Command, in a position to study first hand everything to do with commanding a fleet and a multi-discipline operation like this one.” Pausing, he watched Harry’s expression change as the truth of this sank in. “Now think about your fellow mids. They get to see their little piece of the action. Sure they can follow the communications messages, but they really only see a small piece of the puzzle, not the whole picture.”

  Nodding, Harry smiled. “Thank you, sir. I had not seen it this way, but you are correct. I am fortunate to have this opportunity.”

  Ben laughed. “There’ll be plenty of opportunity for you to take command of a launch or barge later, Harry. Right now you are getting a chance to see and learn all, and to be a part of the command functions. Make the most of it.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  “Right, now go and check on those layabouts in Maintenance. I want those barges back in operation as soon as possible.”

  “BARGE TWELVE IS A PROBLEM, SIR.” The Chief Warrant Officer pointed to the damaged panels. “We’ve got to rebuild the shield projectors, and that’s taking longer because Flight Commander Gray has taken four of my people off this job to get those interceptors repaired.”

  Harry glanced at the craft the CWO indicated. He knew, from the communications monitoring, that these had been in a fight with enemy units, and the damage showed in torn panels, missing control surfaces, and blackened streaks, dents and tears in the sleek fuselage where the shields had partially failed. He nodded then said, “I shall mention that to Commander Curran. Do you need extra hands? I can arrange some if it is possible.”

  “I could use twice the people I’ve got, sir, but I doubt the Commander has them.” They both turned as a klaxon sounded and the great doors separating the hangar from the landing dock in the adjoining fin moved aside. “Looks like someone bent another one. If you can find me some more Techs, sir....�
�� The CWO broke off as another of the landing barges rolled slowly into view. “Bloody hell, that’s going to be a bugger to sort out.”

  Looking at the visible damage, Harry asked, “What did that?”

  “I’d say he took a hit from a missile, sir. But how the hell he got that out of the atmosphere....” Glancing at Harry, the CWO asked, “Permission to get on, sir? Please tell Commander Curran I’ll do what I can with Twelve. Commander Gray won’t be happy, but I’ll have to change the priorities now.”

  “I’ll tell Commander Curran, and see if I can find some more TechRates to help you.” Acknowledging the man’s salute, Harry hurried away, passing the massive thirty-two pound cannon and the lighter French eighteens that had come with him all those months ago. Now they stood secured to the deck, anachronistic and unwanted, ignored amid the noise and bustle of the work going on around them.

  With a shiver at the memory of that fateful day, he hurried back to the Operations Centre.

  On his next watch period, Harry found himself in the Flag Control Centre, reporting just in time to witness the Commodore in conference via comlink with the Brigadier.

  “The initial landings have gone better than expected,” Brigadier Kernan reported to the Commodore. “We have one major fire fight on our hands and several incidents involving small groups in progress. One of my company commanders reported being fired on by a heavy squad that was guarding what looked like a local commercial broadcasting station. Then he found it had a power supply four times the apparent need—and that’s when the fight really started.”

  “What were they defending?”

  “Turns out it’s a major coms centre hidden below ground,” the Brigadier reported. “I’ve sent in extra troops—specialists in clearing that sort of facility. We’ll soon have it under control. I think we’ve hit the jackpot with this coms centre. But there’s a new fight going on at the spaceport. There’s a hell of a lot more to this than meets the eye.”