by Richard Dee
I was excited in a strange way, this was my first combat mission, apart from the disaster relief work and a few rescues all we had done up to now was patrol, survey and show the flag. Contrary to popular opinion, there was no longer a continual battle on the Rim, and apart from drills we had not fired our cannon in all the time that I had been on board. The senior officers were always complaining that the galaxy was getting too civilised.
The night before our arrival, I was again in the mess with Leonie and her second in command, a big marine called Tanner. They were fresh from a training session and wound up as tight as coiled springs. Over our meal I tried to talk to Leonie but she was impervious to my attempts at conversation, all she could say was that she would be leading her boys into combat in the morning. Her eagerness to shoot something unsettled me, particularly as we didn’t know what we would find, but maybe that was just her way of dealing with the anticipation. Tanner was a lot calmer, a long service veteran, he had seen most things and survived them all.
“I reckon they’ll be long gone,” he said, “we shouldn’t have waited before we left.”
“I do hope not,” said Leonie and I could see the sadness in Tanner’s eyes as he contemplated her passion for action. He had clearly seen some and had realised, as all survivors did, that it wasn’t as glamourous as you expected.
Next day, I was called to the bridge as we dropped out of trans-light speed. We were still quite a distance from the planet but the gravitational influence of Oonal’s star had increased and we could not maintain the C+ field. From here on in, our maximum speed would be ninety-five per cent C, the maximum our engines could make. To confuse any hostile beacons we approached across the planetary plane, it made for a less efficient route but one more likely to escape detection. Our electronics were primed, ready to jam any signals that we found.
My plan, which Dror had accepted, was to approach the settlement along the line of the sunrise, dropping into the valley at the last minute, giving us room to catch any escapees. We would appear at the same time as daylight whilst hiding in the shadow. Our troop shuttles would be flying free, one with us and one which would approach from the opposite side of the valley. If any of the pirates were left on the ground one or both could deploy troops, whilst we covered them from above. After a three hour flight, we arrived high above the dark side of the planet, ready to enter the atmosphere. Dror was seated in his command chair, yeoman at his side, ready to control the operation.
There were no clouds in the atmosphere, and the lights of the power station and utility transmitter could be seen far away and below in the darkness. The beacon was working normally and scans revealed no others in orbit. I matched the view below with the mapping on the chart; we were where I had wanted to be in relation to the power station. This was my aim point to drop onto the settlement, now we just had to wait for the planet to rotate beneath us. With everything set and computed, I was done and I reported to Dror.
“Well done, Nav,” he gruffly acknowledged, “You have control. Count us down.”
I checked the computer for local time, “Ten minutes fifteen seconds to sunrise at the settlement, Captain, so we need to commence our descent in four minutes and thirty seconds.”
I watched the clock. “Mark,” I called as the seconds ticked by.
“All yours then, Nav.” Dror turned to the Yeoman beside him. “Call Leonie and Tanner, load up and stand by to deploy on my command.” The yeoman repeated the order and received a reply from the troop carriers. “Standing by, sir,” he confirmed.
I watched the numbers count back and issued the orders as the seconds hit zero. “Helm down angle twenty degrees, slow ahead two, and steer for the lights.” There was a jolt as the engines fired and we dropped into the atmosphere as my orders were acknowledged.
The re-entry was smooth, the thinner atmosphere meant less buffeting and we dropped into a clear sky at fifty thousand metres, still several hundred miles short of the valley. I took the Moth down to just under a hundred metres and flew slowly over the featureless plain, occasionally passing over deep valleys. I knew that in the shadows they were lush and green, a contrast to the arid surface, the only features on the plain were solidified lava flows and an occasional patch of lichen. At fifty miles out Leonie and her troops were launched, they sped off in a long curving track that would bring us back together from opposite directions. The second troop carrier launched and stayed with us.
Thirty miles out and two minutes to sunrise, we adjusted course to pass close by the red lights on the wind turbines, I slowed us down a touch, reducing the engine noise, keeping in the dark shadow that marched across the plain in front of us. Our detector showed Leonie on the other side of the canyon, radio silence meant that we couldn’t be sure she was ready, but we had planned enough, and she could see us.
Fifteen seconds to go and the line of light cleared the canyon rim, I followed it over the edge and looking through the belly camera saw the settlement below, it looked quiet. Ahead, Leonie appeared over the other rim and dropped towards us, breaking radio silence she reported all quiet. Together we fell on the buildings.
Surprise was complete, and we arrived over the settlement at the same time as the shadows raced away in the sunrise. I put the Moth into a slow circle over the buildings; I saw that there were two transports on the ground. The troop carrier landed and Leonie and her squad leapt out and formed a skirmish line, facing the buildings. I was busy keeping station and lost track of what was happening but I could hear Dror’s voice as he announced our arrival on the hailer.
“Oonal settlement, this is Captain Dror of the Moth, please show yourselves, do not be alarmed, my marines will secure the area, please cooperate.”
There was movement, people came rushing out of the huts, waving and jostling, their clothing blown about by our thrusters’ wake. Leonie and the marines moved towards them, poised for action, but they stayed passive and allowed themselves to be searched.
“All clear, Captain,” Leonie reported over the radio. She sounded cheated, as if something had been taken away from her.
“Thank you, take us down, Nav,” ordered Dror and I started the landing sequence.
The settlers had been assembled on one of the bridges over the river bed when Captain Dror stepped down the stern ramp onto the surface. The second shuttle containing the rest of the marines was hanging overhead, ready for action. Leonie had separated the men from the women and children; they were lined up on each side of the structure. Marines guarded each end. I was standing close to Dror as he stood in front of the bridge. It was a fine morning and the air smelt fresh after the Moth. Every planet smelt different, this one had the aroma of freshly tilled earth and honey.
The settlers looked like a pretty average bunch to me, there were lots of women, at least twice as many as men and I wondered at the form their ‘religion’ took. There were plenty of stories about weird sects and cults, perhaps this was one. Small children ran around, oblivious to the adults and the presence of armed marines. The men were mostly older, dressed in dirty white robes with sashes of various colour. Just about everyone looked hungry.
Someone who I took to be the leader of the settlers came forward; he was a large man with long hair, a bushy beard and a wild look. Dressed in the stained robes of a Priest of the Blessed, he looked around himself nervously as he spoke, watching the reactions of his fellows. He was closely attended by two acolytes, similarly dressed and younger looking, their robes cleaner. I got the impression that they were the real power.
“Where have you been, Captain?” the priest demanded, his tone indignant. This was probably the worst way to speak to Dror. I was standing slightly behind him and could see his neck redden as he listened. “We called for your help five days ago.” He spat on the ground, close enough to Dror to be insulting but far enough away to avoid comment. “The pirates have only just gone, and they have taken a large amount of our crops and some of our women. You must get after them straight away, they are headed for
Mistiq.”
Dror looked around him, his gaze icy. After a long pause, in which you could see that he was not impressed with the lecture, or the suggestion that he fly half way round the Federation, he replied, “Sir, you are not the only place on the Rim that needs our help, are any of your people injured?”
“No,” the priest replied. “We have three dead, but have buried them already, as is our custom, apart from the hostages taken we are all in good health.”
“Well then,” said Dror, “it seems to me that we have come to you from aiding people who NEEDED our help, we have had to leave them with little shelter and food, you might at least show some gratitude.”
The priest was unimpressed. “Captain we are as much entitled to your service as anyone else, I have no control over who is sent, or from where and it’s not my fault,” he paused and waved at the heavily armed marines, “that there is no one left for your soldiers to shoot at. I have told you where they were headed,” again he looked around, “now perhaps you could leave us and chase after them. I can give you their ship’s signature, you can alert other ships to join in the chase.”
It seemed to me that if we did what the priest was suggesting then most of the Rim fleet would be removed from the area. Dror must have come to the same conclusion.
“Well, sir,” said Dror, somehow keeping his voice neutral, “you seem to have a good idea of how I should conduct Federation business. I will not send half the fleet chasing a single ship on a whim. May I remind you that you and your ilk are no longer in any position of authority, I am now the law here, and I will decide how I investigate and where I go.”
Turning to address the rest of the settlers, he continued, “I think that my first job should be to search for any evidence that these people you call pirates may have left. We will have a look around your settlement to see what we can find. Tell me, are these your craft?” He pointed to the two transports.
“Yes,” replied the priest. “But the pirates have immobilised them, their Inverters have been removed.”
Dror took the priest by the shoulder and started to walk towards the largest of the huts, he motioned me to follow him and I took a position just behind them. He and the priest were talking in low tones. The acolytes moved to follow. “Leonie,” snapped Dror, “I would talk alone to this man.” She waved her hand and two of the marines stood in front of the pair. They stopped and glared, obviously uncomfortable.
We moved twenty metres away. “Tell me, sir,” said Dror to the priest, “you seem to be putting on a show for the benefit of your men, trying to convince me to leave, is there something you wish to tell me, now that we have some privacy?”
“Yes, Captain,” replied the priest, in a relieved tone, his hands were shaking and sweat ran down his face. “I apologise for my conduct but I think that some of my group are not all they seem. I’m not sure but I have come to believe that my two acolytes are connected to the pirates. I was told to make sure that you set off as quickly as possible, and I think that they are still in contact with them.”
“Thank you for the information,” said Dror. “I assume some dire warning was given.”
The priest nodded. “Yes, I heard one of them saying that they had business that required privacy, he was told to be quiet very quickly.”
Dror nodded. “I’m sure they also said that they would be back.”
“That’s right,” nodded the Priest, still shaking, “as soon as they had finished, they promised to return the hostages.” He looked miserable. “I’m concerned for the safety of the people here.”
“Thank you for your honesty,” said Dror. “Don’t worry, we will sort all this out for you. Here’s what will happen, we will go and do what they want, or at least make it appear so, follow my lead in the conversation.”
We turned and walked back to the group. Dror started talking in a raised voice for everyone to hear, “We will chase them, Priest, but we will leave some troops to search the area.” He called across to the troops. “Leonie, walk with me. Nav, get back on board and set up for a trip to Mistiq, quick as you like.”
Chapter Five
Now
I paused again, Myra was hanging on my words, but my can was empty. She took it, rose and walked over to Rixon. I had been so engrossed in my tale and Myra’s closeness that I hadn’t been aware of anything else.
Rixon noticed that I had stopped talking and shouted across, “Don’t stop, Dave, what happened next?” There was a murmur from the others, everyone seemed interested. Rixon took the empty cans from Myra and passed her two full ones.
“Okay,” I said, “but I need another drink first.” Myra passed me a fresh can and I took a mouthful, it was ice cold and went down a treat. Myra squeezed back into the seat beside me and I continued.
Chapter Six
Then
Dror and Leonie must have had a long and detailed conversation while I went to the wheelhouse and set up the route for our run to Mistiq. Although I didn’t think we would be actually going, I did it anyway. Dror could change his mind and then I would need it.
I had the time anyway; Dror could always stop me when he came back on board. It turned out to be quite a complicated route to plan. Mistiq was deeper in Federation territory and the overlapping gravity fields meant a lot of calculation. I lost myself in the work. I was surprised to find that it was more than two hours later when I heard the hiss as the stern ramp closed. A moment later Dror arrived on the bridge and settled himself into his chair. The Tactical Mate had the bridge watch and Dror explained his intentions to him.
“I’ve briefed Leonie and left her and her squad behind to secure the settlement and watch for hostile action,” he said. “We’re going to pretend to leave and then hang around; I get the feeling that here’s where the action will be.”
It was logical, based on what the priest had said; I only hoped that he had told Leonie about the priest’s warning that there were at least two of the gang in the group and his suspicions. He turned to me.
“Okay, Nav, take us up and pick up Tanner’s men.” I gave the orders and Moth took off, when we were at two hundred and fifty metres, the second troop ship was recovered. Then we climbed into the sky, apparently on the way to Mistiq.
But we never went into orbit; instead we circled around when we were out of sight and sound of the settlement. We landed again in the shadow of a range of low lava cliffs. Dror called an officers’ meeting where he explained his strategy.
Dror repeated what I had heard the priest say; he added that he thought that the pirates had never really left, just tried to get us out of the way for some unknown purpose. He had decided to lay in wait, he said, after pretending to leave. Leonie was to set up a camp, keep her eyes open and report to us.
“You take command of the second troop shuttle, Nav,” Dror told me. “You’re a better pilot than Tanner; he can leave one of his squad here. No offence meant, Mr Tanner.”
Tanner and I had been competing for honours on the simulator, flying all sorts of challenges; so far I was ahead and even though it had been unofficial Dror had known, like all good captains.
“Yes, sir,” I acknowledged.
Tanner grinned and punched me on the shoulder. “Understood, Captain,” he said. “Looks like you’ll get a chance for some fancy flying, Finn,” he grinned.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” said Dror. “You will standby for deployment. If we detect a craft we will capture it. Then if we have some prisoners, perhaps we can find out what’s really going on here.”
So we waited and we waited, all sensors scanning. Dror paced the wheelhouse, muttering to himself and as day turned into night, we all began to doubt his decision. I was stuck in the cramped shuttle with Tanner and eight sweaty marines, the air-con was struggling and the temperature rose. We all dozed, despite the heat and the snoring.
Then, just after sunrise there was the distinct ‘ping’ from the detector, it had picked up a ship’s drive starting. “Contact,” the detector chief called from
the tactical space. “Repeat, contact, vessel taking off, range is 125,000 metres, bearing green 045.” We had a remote video feed from the bridge in the shuttle so could follow what was going on. The launch was nowhere near the settlement, it was in another valley altogether.
“Wait till it clears the Rim and follow it,” ordered Dror. “Stand by to deploy, Nav. If it goes into thick cover you can take over the chase.” The viewer was swung to focus on the bearing and the zoom activated. Moth lifted into a hover and swung its bow towards the craft.
Tension mounted as we waited, the picture was distorted by the magnification and the haze of morning, but we all saw the craft appear from behind the rocks, gaining altitude quickly as its room to manoeuvre increased. It swung and tilted, obviously preparing to leave the atmosphere when Dror quietly said, “Weapons officer, arm missiles and prepare firing solutions.”
They must have detected us at that point, because the craft suddenly tilted down and disappeared back into the canyon. There was a flurry of orders and a rush of acceleration as we followed. Dror had taken the conn, he was probably the best pilot in the Rim fleet and maybe that was why he had been sent to this place.
“Nav,” Dror called, “we will follow as far as we can and attempt to keep up, if it gets too tight to manoeuvre, you deploy and take over while we wait above in clearer space.”
Moth dove over the canyon edge and closed on the other craft. It dropped down and we followed. Dror threw the Moth around in the confined space as the chase continued. He stayed above the smaller ship; even so there was a lack of room for us. The pirate craft was smaller and more agile and was using the deeper, narrower levels and all the natural cover to keep ahead, all the time trying to lure Dror into an error. We slid sideways into a branch, and the walls closed in as the canyon suddenly narrowed. “Running out of room,” muttered Dror. “We’d better get clear.”