Commander Henry Gallant (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 4)

by Alesso, H. Peter

  The Warrior, the Achilles, and the errant destroyer were all that were left in the debris strewn space near the fifth planet of Tau Ceti.

  ***

  Despite the derelict state of his ships, Neumann boldly ordered the captain of the Achilles’ marines, Captain Pickett, to assault the Titan bases.

  Within the asteroid defensive position were refueling and supply stations which had allowed the Titans to maintain their operations. These were an important prize for the UP to capture.

  Gallant thought that the obstructing strong points would have to be eliminated. The interlocking missile batteries would be an especially difficult problem to eliminate if the Titans recovered from the virus he had introduced. It was therefore essential that they act immediately.

  The Warrior began clearing a narrow, but secure path through the mines. However, the remaining Titan guards on the damaged fortresses still had some bite. Forts on either side of the asteroid channel fired lasers. The Warrior and the remaining destroyer were able to knock them out.

  As the marines began landing, several of the Titan buildings exploded. The aliens managed to destroy some facilities to keep them out of UP hands. The marines swarmed over other buildings and took possession of the equipment and facilities. Thanks to Pickett’s bold attack, they were able to dig out the aliens embedded in the remaining bases. They also tried to take prisoners, but the Titans fought to the death. No prisoners were captured. However, a great deal of Titan computer equipment was salvaged.

  After the battle, Neumann raged against Gallant for what he called Gallant’s failure to respond to his calls for ‘closer action.’ He made threats.

  Gallant responded, “My command decisions were correct. I have nothing to apologize for.”

  ***

  It was a slow tortured voyage for the damaged ships as they limped back to Elysium.

  During their journey, the med-techs performed surgical repairs on the wounded.

  The explosions had made a crude job of cutting and burning Chief Howard’s body. Several of his internal organs were ruptured and had to be reconstructed. He had at least eight serious wounds and numerous minor ones. It took many hours of surgery to reconstruct him into something worth keeping. Oxygen conduits, blood tubes, and electrical wires were connected to a multitude of locations on the his body—mouth, nose, veins—allowing chemicals and nano-bots to be pumped throughout his blood and endocrine systems to revitalize him and restore hope for his survival. The nano-bots traveled throughout his body conducting preprogrammed internal microsurgery and cell repairs. Electrical sensors were wired to his temple to control his brain functions, and others were connected to his heart and lungs. The surgeon performed a skin graft and cut away dead tissue suffering from radiation burns. The effort was enough to keep Howard alive.

  He remained in the regeneration chamber for his recovery.

  Lying on his regeneration chamber, he listened to all the activity around him. There was a good deal of chatter about reaching Elysium and the plans the crew had for liberty. He was weak as a kitten, but eager to get up and about even though he was sewn together is long swatches and the slightest movement was painful. He heard the med-techs muttering about a big wig doctor from Halo coming to personally tend him when they landed—thanks to a personal request from Alaina Hepburn.

  He would have welcomed any activity even in his current state. He fidgeted and wriggled trying to get comfortable, but to no avail.

  The ship seemed oddly quiet when Gallant came into his room and chuckled.

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I don’t see anything to laugh about,” said Howard, petulantly. He tried to ease his position in the regeneration chamber. He noticed that Gallant’s uniform looked as if it had not been changed in several days.

  “Of course, Chief,” said Gallant, though he continued to smile, “There’s nothing to laugh about.”

  “Then would you kindly remove that grin,. . ., sir,” said Howard, even while he wobbled a little in his chemical bath.

  “Anything else?” asked Gallant whimsically, the corners of his mouth threatening to break out in another smile.

  “No, sir.”

  “Then I’ll get back to my duties.”

  Once he was alone, Howard was sorry that he had been so unpleasant and would have welcomed more company. He wanted to know what kind of shape the ship was in even though he had no doubt it was not good. He swore to himself.

  A med-tech came in and brought a variety of fresh fruits that had just arrived from Elysium.

  “Captain’s compliments.”

  “Please pass on my thanks to the captain.”

  “Sure, Chief.”

  He bit into some of the soft fruit and enjoyed the sweet juices on his tongue. While he enjoyed the refreshments, he listened to a succession of noises coming from a flurry of activity outside his room.

  From the passageway, he heard Gallant’s voice.

  “Welcome aboard, sir.”

  “Very interesting. This is my first time aboard a military ship. I’ve been ministering to the NNR colonist since we left Earth,” said a stranger's voice.

  A stranger entered the med station and walked immediately to Chief Howard’s chemical bath. He examined his patient with a critical eye.

  “I’m Dr. Kennedy from the New Kauai Hospital. I’ve come to take care of the more difficult cases on the Warrior.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen worse than me?” queried Howard.

  “No, actually, you’re a significant mess, though I must admit that the med team has done good work on you. You’re on the mend.”

  “Please pardon me while I move you,” said Kennedy as he rotated Howard’s body.

  “Dammit!” said Howard.

  “I’ll give you something for your pain, but you’ll have to wrestle with your foul temper, yourself.”

  Gallant chuckled again, and again Howard snorted.

  Gallant stopped, but a grin remained on his face.

  CHAPTER 24

  Home Again

  “‘If Lieutenant Commander Henry Gallant might come for dinner, there is much to discuss.’”

  Gallant read the words of Alaina’s message over again. She had asked to see him. He didn’t want to presume too much from the composition of the note. It included an apology for intruding upon him when he must have so much to do and some words expressing her hope that he was well.

  He literally flew to her home.

  Alaina was beautiful, and never more so than that night.

  She greeted him, “Maybe you thought yourself well rid of me? Or maybe you’ve been restless to return? I hope it was the later.”

  “I’ve thought of no one else.”

  “Are you well?”

  “Yes. We fought a battle with terrible loses, but yes, I am well,” said Gallant pulling at his tunic collar uncomfortably.

  They remained silent for a minute and then he added, “Chief Howard is doing better. He asked me to thank you for sending the surgeon.”

  “It was the least I could do.”

  She placed her hand on his.

  Looking at her hand, he told her about his mission to Gliese. He began slowly at first, but then the words poured out of him—words of excitement, of desolation, of possibilities and of potential disaster. When he had run down, they sat holding hands silently for what may have been a long time.

  They didn’t eat dinner; however, the occasion had served its purpose. They could sit silently together enjoying each other’s company without acknowledging the world around them, or the tension of their last meeting. It allowed them to look each other in the eyes and be friends once more. Nevertheless, their animated chat avoided a myriad of subjects they were dying to discuss, but afraid to broach.

  She put her hand on his arm as they sat side by side.

  He often found that his overly rational approach to things could be an encumbrance when dealing with emotional issues, but he liked that she was without pretense and open to his thoughts. />
  “I wish to hear all the particulars—but later. For now, it’s you and me that I wish to appreciate. Can we talk of us?” she asked.

  “Yes. Let’s talk of us.”

  It was incredible, the many things he spoke of, and she responded in kind—just as two old friends catching up. It was like this, every time he saw her after a long absence, he fell under her spell, all over again.

  Finally, Gallant asked the fateful questions that had been ever-present since he arrived, “So, you aren’t married? Nothing is settled?”

  “No.”

  A wave of relief washed over him.

  Dressed in khaki pants and shirt, Alaina looked as if she had just returned from the jungle. He asked, “You’ve been away?”

  “I met with Liam and a group of dissenters. They’re hidden in the caves along the coast,” she said.

  “Tell me about the dissenters? When did it start? Who’s in charge? What’s . . .?”

  “Please, one question at a time.”

  Relaxing, he said, “All right, tell me in your own words.”

  “As you are aware, there was serious unrest before you left. The issues at that time centered on the unfair labor practices of the NNR Corporation and the status of new settlers. I wanted to treat them as favored immigrants,” She frowned. “You know that didn’t go well.”

  “I thought it was unfair of Neumann to orchestrate a new election and drive you out of office.”

  “Wolfe played his cards well. McCall warned me before it happened, but I didn’t listen, though what I could have actually done, still eludes me.”

  “McCall warned you?”

  “Yes,” Alaina blushed. “We had a little chat when I visited the Warrior.”

  “A chat?”

  “Yes, about politics—and you.”

  “As curious as I am, about that—tell me more about this group.”

  “As I was saying, soon after the Warrior left, Wolfe pushed through changes to the constitution including making genetic engineering mandatory. He gave the NNR personnel special privileges and authority while marginalizing the rest of us.”

  “If I know the Elysium natives, that didn’t sit well with them.”

  “Of course not. Our people may not be so sophisticated, but they get just as angry about injustice. We started with nonviolent protests. Liam organized a movement, but Wolfe’s policemen with the help of Neumann’s marines suppressed all dissent—even peaceful protests. They began arresting anyone on mere suspicion,” Alaina’s face was distressed as she spoke.

  “Neumann’s military authority doesn’t extend to direct interference with civil law. He was exceeding his authority by involving the marines.”

  “That may be, but it didn’t stop him. He has his own agenda.”

  “Go on.”

  “Then the crackdowns started. Individual acts of protest led to jail and rushed trials with severe penalties. The final straw was when they tried William Treadwell again. Neumann was fixated in the belief that he was the movement’s leader which was nonsense,” said Alaina with a bitter face. “Anyway, the new trial led to a death sentence.”

  She paused to gather her thoughts. “That’s when all hell broke loose. Executing Treadwell was seen as an act of war upon the Elysium native population. A true rebellion started with Liam as leader.”

  Gallant tried to read her face.

  “One marine and several of Wolfe’s policemen have been injured, but no deaths. So far eleven of our people have died.”

  “What’s your involvement?”

  “I’ve been quietly supporting Liam, but Neumann has had me under surveillance since the beginning. He figured I had to be involved in some way.”

  Gallant looked concerned.

  “I hoped that when the Achilles went to fight the Titan cruisers they were leaving for good. But they came back with you. Right now there are contingents of marines posted throughout Halo. They have a stranglehold on our people.”

  Alaina went to the window and looked out. “Liam is desperate for supplies—food, communication equipment, medical supplies, and most of all weapons.”

  Gallant said, “I don’t know what I can do to help. I can’t supply weapons to a group involved in open dissention against UP forces, even if those forces are being misused for the personal purposes of Neumann and the NNR.”

  He searched his mind for something he could do. “However, I could send some nonlethal humanities supplies—food and medicine—maybe communication equipment. Even that I’ll have to do surreptitiously—and only if my senior officers go along with me at the peril of their careers.”

  “Will they?”

  “I hope so,” said Gallant, then he added pensively, “Neumann’s changed.”

  “In what way?”

  “He’s become angry, very angry. And more prejudice, and even more reckless in battle . . .

  “And more dangerous,” added Alaina.

  “I think something happened with his marriage . . . or with his father . . .”

  Alaina sighed.

  “Don’t worry. Nothing’s done that can’t be undone,” said Gallant.

  He touched her arm. “We’re together again. That’s what matters most.”

  She fell into his arms and they hugged.

  “But Liam?” she asked.

  “I will do what I can for him and the resistance, but I can’t give you up.”

  He wanted to talk to her about their future, but this was not the time. It would have to wait.

  CHAPTER 25

  Fidelity

  Seated at the wardroom table across from Gallant, Commander McCall looked particularly sharp in her freshly pressed service dress blue uniform. Although he was feeling slightly shabby in his working blues, he gazed around the table at his fellow officers who were similarly attired. They were all laughing and enjoying a slightly ribald story McCall had just told.

  He was on the verge of reminding them of the proper decorum for the wardroom, when he changed his mind. Instead he sat silently, preoccupied at the head of the table, looking only at the meal before him. After a time, he grew tired of his petty revenge and observed McCall making polite conversation with Roberts. She was asking him about an experience he’d had as a midshipman, though Gallant knew for sure he had described that particular event to her at least once before.

  The conversation around the table became more genial and animated as various officers were all too willing to regale the gathering with tall tales of their academy days. Before long he joined in—laughing as gaily as any of the others. Not until the dinner’s conclusion did the merriment cease.

  As the others departed to fulfill their duties, almost against his will, he found himself enjoying a personal conversation with McCall. They talked of trivialities and petty gripes for several minutes until Gallant wondered whether after their long months confined aboard ship together, they might have formed a vague bond, though perhaps such an anomaly would quickly dissipate once they were assigned new missions.

  He was feeling relaxed and open when McCall asked, “Have you been to see Neumann?”

  “I’ve not seen him since returning to Elysium,” he replied. Then, thinking of the many red alert messages Neumann had transmitted during the battle, he added, “Our quarrel is not the sort likely to be made up.”

  “Not ever?”

  “Ours is an enduring and private feud, not one that anyone can join. I fear it must be played out between us two. You’d do well, career-wise, to avoid the hostilities.”

  “I’ve never done that yet,” she said.

  “There’s something I should tell you.”

  “Is it in the past?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then forget it. I don’t need to hear it,” said McCall.

  He grew quiet. The good cheer of the dinner had passed.

  McCall’s attitude changed abruptly; like a chameleon changing color to match a new environment. Her pretense of a collegial bond disappeared.

  She said,
“He intends to bring charges against you. I spent hours talking to him about why that might not be appropriate.”

  “He’s concerned about my superintelligence abilities?”

  “Yes.”

  “You share those concerns?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t exactly disbelieve her; in truth she had legitimate cause to wonder.

  He asked, “What was his reaction to my report?”

  “Rather curious. He was more unsettled about what your opinion was on the Titan’s experiments with genetic engineering than your superintelligence experiences.”

  Gallant remained silent.

  “He railed against your assessment that the Titans manipulation of their genetic pool diverted their natural evolution toward a uniform autistic people and inferior society.”

  “He didn’t agree with my conclusions?”

  “Hardly.”

  “What about you?”

  “I confess, I’m troubled by the implication that genetic engineering took the Titans down a dead-end path, but that doesn’t mean that the UP would make such a harmful decision.”

  Gallant said, “I’ve seen the end result of the Titan’s genetic engineering. It’s not pretty. Hatcheries dedicated to producing various classes who have been programmed into their lives—no real creativity, or diversity—no options, or choices in their life. That’s not a path I want to see humanity follow—locked in DNA handcuffs. Instead of a path to superintelligence, genetic engineering may be a path to super-disaster.”

  She was silent for a moment and then she said, “It’s not up to you to make those decisions.”

  “And yet Neumann has made genetic engineering mandatory on Elysium. It’s not even mandatory on Earth. Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

  McCall looked doubtful.

  Gallant asked, “I believe there’s a way to defeat the Titans by utilizing their own network against them.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Will there be another mission to Gliese?”

  She said, “It will be up to Admiral Collingsworth if and when anyone goes back to Gliese.”