Henry Gallant and the Warrior (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 3)

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Henry Gallant and the Warrior (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 3) Page 16

by H. Peter Alesso


  Yes, lazy. Why not? I’ve earned it!

  He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. It found its way to another world, another time. He fell into a twilight half-sleep and, in that dim reality, he recalled a beautiful young woman he still longed for—Aliana. He dreamed of all the things he could be doing that had nothing to do with war, battle, or death. He longed for the peace and comfort that existed on a planet far, far away . . .

  BANG! BANG!

  There was a loud banging on his cabin door.

  “Captain?”

  BANG! BANG!

  “Captain?”

  Gallant petulantly ignored the interruption and tried to recapture the bliss he was being dragged away from.

  BANG! BANG!

  “Captain, sir?”

  No escape.

  “Enter,” he said.

  A communication tech opened a crack in the door and stuck his head in. He mumbled, “The officer of the deck sends his respects, sir. He’s sorry to disturb you, but we’re receiving a broadcast from Fleet Command.”

  “Very, well.” Gallant was up and out the door before the tech could move out of his way. The man fell back against the bulkhead as Gallant scampered up the dozen steps to the bridge.

  “Captain on the bridge,” said the OOD.

  “At ease. Report,” said Gallant to Roberts, who was standing by the communications console.

  “We’re receiving an encrypted broadcast from Fleet Command, sir. It was transmitted several hours ago using a wide directional beam aimed at Saturn in general. It’s pretty garbled, but we’ve managed to decipher it.”

  Gallant examined the message tablet.

  It was barely two days since Gallant had transmitted the report—he hadn’t expected an acknowledgment, or a decision, so soon. They had laid out their hypothesis; now came the moment of truth. There were tense faces on the bridge.

  REPORT ACCEPTED.

  REQUIRE EXACT ATTACK TIMETABLE AND FLIGHT PATH OF ENEMY FLEET.

  COLLINGSWORTH.

  That’s Collingsworth, thought Gallant, decisive.

  “Apparently, Fleet Command has decided to act on our report, sir,” said Roberts.

  Gallant nodded.

  Thanks to the Warrior’s report, Fleet Command would set up an ambush for the Titans and beat them before they could begin a nuclear bombardment. The Titans’ plan called for hundreds of cruisers and destroyers to conduct a series of raids on all inner planets to divert UP strength, starting in about ten days. This was to be followed by a full-strength attack by the armada coming from Ceres straight at Mars. Gallant sent details of the armada’s strength and composition. He had recommended that Fleet Command keep its main fleet together at Mars and ignore the raiders, leaving local forces to defend the planets.

  Based upon this information, there was an obvious counterstrategy. If Fleet Command let local forces defend each planet against raiders, then it could keep the bulk of the fleet together, hidden behind the radar shadow of Mars. When the armada made its thrust, the UP fleet could surprise it. But for the surprise to succeed, the high command needed the exact flight path and timetable of the armada’s attack. That information was kept secret by the Titans, and Gallant hadn’t uncovered those details, as yet.

  Gallant stared once more at the message . . .

  REQUIRE EXACT ATTACK TIMETABLE AND FLIGHT PATH OF ENEMY FLEET.

  He took a deep breath,

  How do I do that?

  CHAPTER 30

  In Harm’s Way

  The summary report Gallant sent to Mars headquarters contained detailed information about the upcoming Titan plan of attack. Their plan was based upon a series of diversionary raids intended to splinter the UP fleet. Once a large portion of the fleet was occupied chasing raiders, the Titan armada would emerge from the asteroid belt, starting at Ceres, and head straight for Mars with the intention of destroying the remaining defenders before the UP fleet could reassemble there.

  Fleet command’s counter strategy was to let local forces defend each planet against raiders, and keep the bulk of the fleet together, hidden behind the radar shadow of Mars for a surprise attack. But for the surprise to succeed, the high command needed the exact flight path and timetable of the armada’s attack.

  Gallant realized it was up to him to secure the remaining critical data. But it wasn’t going to be easy. He conceived a plan to penetrate the alien’s military headquarters on Pandora, where he was sure the flight path and timetable data must reside. He planned to first recover the recording device he had left on that moon during his last visit, but that would probably not have all the information he needed. He would expand his collection efforts to include the Titans’ fleet headquarters and steal the data directly from their high command AI computer system. He thought about attempting the mission alone since such a bold undertaking would have only a slight chance of success. He grimaced momentarily as dread and self-doubt flowed through his mind. The truth was that he was afraid—not of pain or death, but of failure. Failure would mean the deaths of millions.

  I can’t do this without Gabriel. If this has any chance to succeed, I’ll need his help.

  It was at this moment that Admiral Collingsworth’s words sprang back into his mind, “You will put your closest comrades into the greatest danger.”

  The memory hit him like a cold bucket of water. Right then he decided to take as much of the burden upon himself as possible.

  He moved to his desk and activated his computer console. He called up the detailed schematics and maps of Pandora and its facilities that his crew had meticulously compiled over the course of the last month. He traced out an orbit for Gabriel to maintain in the Wasp while he performed an EVA to the moon. He identified a deep, well-hidden cave where he could stash his EVA and battle armor while he trekked to the target building in camouflaged pressure suit. He smiled when he worked out a path that avoided most of the guard towers and sentries. His plan was only possible because of the incredible volume of detailed information his CIC had amassed. He calculated the minimum oxygen he would need to carry. He itemized the other equipment he would require, including explosive charges. He intended to plant explosives to sabotage a portion of the military headquarters as he left. This would throw off suspicion that he stole valuable intelligence. He hoped the Titans would assume he was on a straightforward sabotage operation similar to what had been launched around Jupiter. That way, his mission wouldn’t tempt the Titans to change their attack plans.

  It was going to be tight, but he began to believe he could carry it off.

  He called Roberts into his cabin and outlined the plan.

  “The chances of success . . .” said Roberts, shaking his head, letting his voice diminish into an embarrassing silence.

  “Successful men don’t give up, Mr. Roberts; that’s what makes them successful,” said Gallant.

  Roberts nodded, but his face was ashen.

  “Mr. Roberts, under no circumstances are you to endanger the Warrior by attempting to rescue us if we're captured or if the Wasp is crippled. If we succeed, we will transmit the critical data to you. That information is worth all our lives. It’s your job to ensure it is retransmitted to Mars via our relay stations. Remember, that is your first and only priority.”

  Gallant paused and looked directly at his executive officer: “If we are killed or captured, it means we’ve failed. There will be nothing more to be gained by sacrificing the Warrior in a vain attempt to change that. Under those circumstances, you are to withdraw and return to Mars.”

  Roberts remained silent.

  Gallant glared at his executive officer. “Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Roberts, “crystal clear.”

  Gallant offered his hand, and Roberts shook it before saying with obvious sincerity, “Good luck, Henry.”

  “Thank you, John.”

  They rose and left the captain’s cabin. Roberts moved to the bridge while Gallant went to the hangar bay. He passed a few uneasy minutes be
fore strapping in and checking the ship’s readiness for launch.

  When Gabriel arrived and boarded the small craft, Chief Howard said, “Godspeed.”

  Gabriel responded in kind, and then he gave a funny little wave as if he were bidding a final farewell.

  Gallant requested permission to take-off.

  When the bridge approved, they launched the Wasp.

  The Warrior remained in stealth mode outside the harbor while the Wasp made the long perilous descent down toward Pandora, surrounded by rocks and satellites. The two ships were now separated by several million kilometers.

  The Wasp disguised its wake by following a cargo ship past the entrance channel through the rings and into the inner region close to the moon. They had planted a bug and recorders on this moon during previous missions. Now they intended to collect that information and steal more from the military headquarters.

  Gabriel maneuvered the Wasp into a low orbit around the moon. When the Wasp pierced the thin atmosphere, the hull creaked from the strain. Buffeted by the violent winds of the atmospheric gases, the ship’s metal fabric produced a vibrating noise that drowned out the ship’s normal sounds. Gabriel picked out the landmarks and identified the key alien facilities. When he found the site he was looking for he placed the Wasp in geosynchronous orbit over the area.

  For this mission, Gabriel would stay aboard the Wasp while Gallant used a jetpack to drop down to the surface.

  Gallant reviewed his plan with the midshipman. “Gabriel, the small transmitter I'm taking to the surface has limited range, so wait for the data. As soon as you receive it, retransmit it to the Warrior. Once that’s done, signal me and I will use my EVA suit to launch from the surface and achieve orbit. You can pick me up then. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The success of the mission was all about relaying information from Gallant to the Wasp, from the Wasp to the Warrior, from the Warrior to the Saturn relay station and then on to Mars command. Like dominos, everything had to fall in succession for the mission to succeed.

  The Wasp proceeded to an orbit nearly over the alien headquarters building complex and Gallant exited the Wasp. Using his battle armor EVA suit with its jetpack he flew, or rather fell, to the moon’s surface. He twisted and dove, gliding straight over volcanic activity and past granite mountains. He imagined his arms were wings reaching toward the surface. Flying like that was a thrill, and he was disappointed when it was over so soon.

  He touched down several kilometers from the headquarters building where the volcanic islands of circular cones protruded from the rough rocky terrain. The landing area was in a valley with a volcanic river of lava flowing over the irregular surface and past a deep, narrow cave on the edge of a plateau that rose several hundred meters from the surface. The cave appeared to be the perfect hiding place for Gallant to stow his battle armor and equipment.

  “I think I can see plumes of ash over the horizon, sir,” radioed Gabriel.

  Gallant saw a gray flash. “Yes, there is an ash cloud. I can use that for cover.”

  He stripped off his battle armor with its EVA jetpack and radio transmitter. That left him in a flimsy camouflage pressure suit with a breathing apparatus that held a limited oxygen supply. The suit gave him superior flexibility to move while he tried to remain hidden, but he would have only his handgun and personal combat skills as weapons. When his mission was completed and he had made it back to the cave, he would be able to don his battle armor and use its small transmitter to send the data to the Wasp.

  Gallant stopped and considered his position. As he reached a ridge which was considerably exposed, there was motion to his right. There were several Titans patrolling, silhouetted by the planet’s volcanic backdrop. He crawled back to the cave until the area was clear.

  Gallant stacked an extra oxygen tank, food, and water supplies in a container in the back of the cave. After resting for what seemed like a long time but only a few minutes in reality, he made his way from the cave entrance. He carried an extra oxygen bottle under his camouflage gear. He set off. Luckily, the rocky surface was not too great an impediment, and the larger boulders offered some concealment. He walked, or more correctly, bounced in the low gravity for about twenty minutes over the jagged and irregular surface. It was a long hard climb despite the low gravity. The irregular toughness of the dispersed rocks slowed his travel. The starlight offered the only illumination as he picked his way. He proceeded through a gully and into a shallow depression with easy slopes along the sides. As he plodded ahead he was glad for the cover the slopes afforded. He planned on retracing his path after he completed his task.

  He was sufficiently concealed when he approached the area close to the headquarter facility. The buildings of this complex were dome-shaped with opaque walls and no windows. The domes were nested in clusters of three and each had several oval doors that open by a simple touch. Gallant had timed his operation so that he would arrive when the military staff was at their sleep period. He dug a small hole to hide in while he waited and observed the guards on patrol. Although he was not weary, he was tense, so he rested until he saw an opportunity to plunge ahead.

  He started to imagine the process he would go through to get inside the building. It would take patience and guile. There were armed guards passing near the entrance. He monitored the nearby guards’ movements looking for an opportunity to run the gauntlet. Alternating between confidence and doubt, he decided to make his move. He sprang from his concealment to penetrate the headquarters building itself.

  The dome building extended underground, but the aboveground portion had several observation towers and three visible entrances. At each corner of the structure was a small guard station. Gallant moved between several smaller buildings and avoided the sentries. He reached the entrance furthest from the observation tower and he was careful enough to avoid the area’s simple security procedures. Video and electronic surveillance would not easily see past his camouflage gear, but he was concerned about his limited oxygen supply.

  When he reached the oval hatch, he touched it and it cycled open leading into an airlock. There was no alarm as he entered the slight methane atmosphere within. In the first circular room he found a pair of large computers operating unattended. Although the tomblike room was not large, it took him a minute to find the door to the next room. He slipped inside and worked his way to what he assumed was the fleet commander’s office with the main AI computer. Using guesswork as much as anything, he made it inside. He activated the AI computer and connected a neural interface he had brought with him. He searched through the information, stretching his ability to translate the messages as quickly as possible. Overwhelming doubt crept into his mind. Nevertheless, he worked on, message after message, file after file. He queried the AI for assistance, but his requests were rejected as illogical. He concentrated and reformulated his request again. This time the AI offered him access to what he assumed was the supreme fleet commander’s files.

  Gotcha!"

  Gallant found the secret stash of data--fulfilling his greatest hope. The discovery was sweet, but it did nothing to relieve his tension as reaction set in from the dangers around him. He took several moments to compose himself while his conscious nagged at him for squandering precious seconds.

  Secrets are only prized if you can steal them in secret. So once he had collected everything he thought was of value, he set about disguising the fact that anything had been taken. He covered his computer tracks and erased all trace of his intrusive presence. He left the fleet commander's office and returned to the room where he had entered the building when . . .

  BAM!

  The sound startled him. It was not clear what made the noise, but it told him that he needed to get moving. Alone in the dark, he sensed that things were closing in on him. He sprang out the exit and began running. Once he was in the open courtyard, he began moving cautiously to avoid the tower lookouts and roving guards.

  Motion in the corner of his ey
e alerted him. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He sensed someone watching him, someone dangerous, someone close. He trusted his senses, but he resisted the temptation to look behind him. Instead, he threw himself flat to the ground. A guard walked by searching for intruders. Gallant sprang up and grabbed the guard from behind and twisted his neck. The crack told him that his enemy was finished.

  He moved to a nearby building and planted an explosive charge. He set it to go off in twenty minutes. That would lead them to believe that his mission was merely sabotage.

  As he was leaving, several guards saw him and attacked. He grabbed the first one and threw him into the second. He then sidestepped the third, tripping him as he passed. He hit the first man with the butt of his palm as he tried to get up and then pushed him to one side. Gallant ducked the swinging rifle butt of one guard and punched him in his midsection, doubling him over and producing a sound of escaping gases.

  The first guard recovered, stepped forward, and swung a heavy object, Gallant avoided the blow--grabbed the guard's wrist and twisted it until he dropped the weapon and squealed in pain.

  The remaining guard, a somewhat larger fellow, charged Gallant. He wrapped his arms around Gallant and wrestled him to the ground whereupon all three guards began hitting and kicking him.

  The blows were telling and Gallant struck back in desperation. The Titans were smaller, thinner, and less skilled than Gallant, but there was no doubt about their determination to capture him. Fighting within a pressure suit in low gravity was complicating the combat, but Gallant was confident he could exploit their weaker physical strength.

  He thought, they're trying to pin my arms down.

  Pain grabbed him as they punched and kicked him. Gallant put his faith in his hand-to-hand combat training. He twisted his body and grabbed one guard’s arm for leverage—allowing him to get back on his feet.

 

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