Harry Heron Savage Fugitive

by Patrick G Cox

  The Hellions took perverse pleasure in the disruption of Consortium operations. After the near fiasco of their first attack on the small Base, Harry confined operations to ambushing mobile forces, the bombardment of larger installations, and blowing up remote mining sites.

  “We released another fifty of our comrades on this raid,” Ferghal informed him. “Most are our former shipmates from the Daring.” He grinned across the room at Rasmus. “The latest fuse from our mad scientist here is a beauty. We downed two of their flyers with it.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Rasmus, slurping a cup of what they called coffee, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t as bitter as coffee, and had more of a nutty, plant-based flavour.

  Ferghal took a seat at the table where Rasmus, Harry and a Canid pack leader were nursing their own steaming mugs.

  “The weapons certainly were effective,” Harry mused. The raids and attacks had consequences. Patrols were increased in strength and escorted by high-flying air support. It became difficult, if not suicidal, to engage in ambushes. Even so, this actually worked for their next excursion, as the increase in patrol personnel meant the guard squads had to be reduced on the prison details.

  “The enemy now has fewer of their number protecting the prison.” The Canid gave them a detailed report of his pack’s observation of the secure facility used by the Consortium for their prisoners of officer rank.

  “That is good.” Harry considered the implication. “It may offer an opportunity to release some of our senior officers.”

  Rasmus cradled his mug then took a long sip. “If they have reduced their guards in the effort to catch us, have they not also withdrawn people from their landing field for the strike craft? Perhaps we can deliver a serious blow if we strike that while another team releases the prisoners.”

  “That is worth exploring,” Harry mused. “Certainly if we can destroy some of their aerial craft, that will assist our efforts and perhaps bring an end to their attacks.”

  “Then let us ask Grakuna to conduct a reconnaissance of the landing field defences so we can plan our attack,” said Ferghal. “Do you think the Provider can establish a link so we may examine their layout?”

  “Yes, and having the layout will give us an advantage,” Harry replied. “But I do want to obtain the release of at least some of our officers. They have knowledge and experience we lack, and as our enemy becomes more determined, we need that if we are to defeat them.”

  Rasmus gave him a surprised look. “We have done very well without it.”

  “We have,” Harry agreed. “But, as our numbers have grown, there is a need for leaders of suitable rank and expertise. We four cannot do it all, even with the help of the Coxswain and the Warrant Officers.”

  Harry took a sip of his coffee, set down his mug, and leaned forward on the table, his arms folded as he gathered his thoughts. It wasn’t often that he relented from his usual stiff posture, but he felt comfortable with his fellow leaders. “Some of our success has been luck and a reluctance on the part of our enemy to accept that such crude weapons could be as effective as they have been. Now they have the proof of their losses, and we enter a new phase. If our group grows any larger, we will need to divide into squadrons. For that we must provide leadership.” He looked at them each in turn. “It is our duty to free all Fleet personnel from captivity.”

  Chapter 24 — Tipping Point

  Harry greeted his visitor with a smile. “You delivered the note to Commander Nielsen?”

  “It is done as you required,” said the young Canid named Regidur, translator in hand. “Here is the reply.”

  Accepting the folded paper, Harry opened it, frowning to read the hastily scrawled note.

  Keep up the good work, Mr. Heron. You fellows make me proud. We will do everything we can to support you. Be warned, though, this place is heavily guarded. Don’t waste lives and equipment on us unless you are sure of a win.

  Commander Nielsen

  “Thank you, Regidur. Were you able to see anything of the facilities?”

  “Yes, Leader. As you required, I examined the defences. I obtained entry by waiting for one of their patrols, and I left the same way. It was simple for me because I was alone. It would be challenging for a team to get in.”

  This confirmed what Harry suspected. “You had no difficulties finding the Commander?”

  “None, Leader. He was startled by my presence in his sleeping den, but recovered well.”

  Harry scanned the camp, noting the positions of the new movement monitors and the patrolling troopers. The successes had brought renewed attacks on the aboveground elements of the entity they called the Provider, their AI. In response, Harry and the Canid leaders stepped up their own attacks on the Consortium bases and installations.

  They decided their first target for a larger assault should be the camp to which the factories were attached, and that had a specific goal in mind: to release as many imprisoned TechRates as possible. Contact had been made with the inmates, and they knew exactly who was where and which of the POWs could be relied on to join them, and more importantly, who could not.

  Easing himself back into cover, Harry ordered, “Signal the Coxswain — Commence attack.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Maddie Hodges grinned as she raised her flags. This was more like it.

  Errol Hill was waiting with his group a few yards away. “Here we go,” he said when he saw Maddie’s signal. “Stay low and stay sharp. We go in, blow the barriers, and get the people out. Warrant Mercer and his team will watch our flanks and take on the guards.” He caught the signal from Harry. “Right! Move, people. Stay in cover until the last minute. Wait for the Swain’s lot to start the ball rolling and draw them away.”

  When the group reached the cleared perimeter, they paused. The fading light from the low-lying sun was barely sufficient to see the obstructions and defences, but enough to allow the enemy to see them as they raced across the clearing.

  Watching from his concealed position on a rise, Harry followed the movement as his people approached. He connected with the camp’s AI. Focussing on the monitoring system, he tried to make sure it didn’t reveal his people as they approached.

  “Replay the last hour of the view on the monitors,” he instructed it.

  “This is contrary to normal protocols.”

  “It is a test to see if they notice anything amiss. Do it now, please.”

  The AI complied, not least because Harry used the Consortium Commander’s interface identity for access. He knew he would have to monitor this and be ready to cancel any order to defend the camp. Everything hinged on the timing of the attack, though there was some room for slippage.

  Below him, Errol Hill’s squad of grenadiers and Warrant Mercer’s skirmishers, as Harry thought of them, moved forward, hidden by their shared cloaks. Between them and the Coxswain’s position, the bulk of Daring’s Hellions waited, ready to strike when the defenders tried to face the Coxswain’s assault, intended to pull troops toward the manufacturing area, and the second assault on the prison section. He hoped the third group, including a number of Canids, would then be able to drive a wedge between the two sections of the camp and split the enemy’s forces.

  A series of explosions and the flash of weapons fire announced the fact that the Coxswain’s group had commenced their attack. The effect was immediate, and the perimeter defences sprang into life, the weaponry tracking back and forth as the operators sought targets.

  Alarms sounded across the camp, and armoured troops hastened into pre-arranged positions. At the point of attack, the activity intensified, and Harry watched as troops were called away from his end of the camp, leaving a thin screen of defenders in place. Now he could see the mortar fire his people were directing at the factory domes. Several were on fire, and a larger explosion than their mortars could produce saw another large dome slowly collapse as flames leapt above the ruins.

  With the light fadin
g rapidly, he could just make out Errol Hill’s troop at the perimeter. He held his breath as one of the defence towers swung, apparently sensing the movement.

  Harry maintained the monitoring system on its replay, leaving the perimeter defence weapons operators to track phantoms not visible on their screens. One or more of the operators realised what was happening and attempted to correct the system. Eventually, losing patience, Harry ran a shutdown command.

  In the camp Command Centre, the Guard Commander swore in exasperation as the towers remained blind.

  “What the hell?” The Defence Commander got nothing when he tried his comlink. “All troops, stand by to defend the perimeter.” He tried the uplink to the main Base and discovered it was dead. He swore again as several explosions rocked the dome and debris rained down from the ceiling, warning him that one of the enemy’s crude bombs had scored a hit.

  Satisfied, Harry watched as Errol Hill’s team made it through the perimeter without mishap. So far so good. The flash of plasma fire drew his attention to troopers racing to positions where they could pin down his people.

  To Maddie, he ordered, “Signal Warrant Mercer — Enemy position on the right.” He watched as the signal was acknowledged and the Warrant’s team moved to pin down the defenders. Explosions from the position of Errol’s targets gave him the signal he needed, and movement in the camp signified the rush of defenders drawing back to assist the pinned down troops. “Signal Colour Sergeant Arbinder — Attack.”

  He’d timed it nicely. The Colour Sergeant’s assault was a textbook example of an infantry attack — not surprising, as his group were Marines. They drove a wedge into the enemy and brought complete chaos to the defence.

  Reaching the prison dome, Errol Hill signalled his people into position. Thanks to Harry’s ability to access these AI systems, he knew the layout and what to expect once they entered. He also had the access code for the main entrance. When his team was ready, he entered the code.

  The door slid aside, and two of his team entered, lobbing grenades into the Guardroom and over the counter that stood duty as a reception desk and partial barrier. Caught by surprise, the man on reception duty was slow to react. Not so the occupants of the Guardroom. Two erupted out of the room ready to fire on the attackers as the first grenade detonated.

  “Rani, get the doors open, and shift the prisoners out.” Errol Hill consulted a note. “Leave the buggers in Cells 20 and 23. We don’t want them.”

  Rani and three others raced into the corridor activating door codes while Errol retrieved the guards’ weapons and checked their condition. Two were dead, as was one more in the Guardroom; the third was badly wounded, but there was no time to deal with him. Errol applied a dressing to staunch the bleeding from the worst of his wounds then stood to direct the prisoners filing into the entrance toward the waiting Canids. “This way. Quick. Follow the guides.”

  After a momentary hesitation, the leading Rates obeyed, but one had to get in a comment.

  “Bloody hell, mate. Don’t know where you guys came from, and as for your mates—”

  “Just do as they say and move it, chum. We haven’t got all day, and you’ll soon find out where we’re from.”

  “Hey, Errol, where’d you spring from, shippers?” One of the prisoners punched Errol on the shoulder, a big grin on his face. “You guys are a sight for sore eyes. Who’re your pals? Wouldn’t want to tangle with them in a dark alley.”

  “Mind you don’t, Ty, or you’ll come off worse.”

  When Rani and the others joined them, Errol said, “All out? Good. Let’s go.”

  From the promontory, Harry watched the progress marked by flashes and explosions. When he saw the signal that the prisoners were clear, he ordered, “Send the withdrawal signal.”

  The rocket flare soared aloft and burst. In his position, Chief Master Warrant Winstanley saw the flare. He nodded to the men around him. “Blow the mines, then let’s get our people out of here.”

  Brigadier Newton surveyed the damage. “They knew exactly what to hit. This will take months to repair. Get all the finished fuel cells and the rest of the components moved to the main Base. Move the remaining prisoners too.” Her frown deepened. “Obviously, our systems are completely compromised. They knew exactly who was a plant for us and where they were located. They’ve left them in their cells.”

  “It certainly looks that way,” the Colonel replied sourly. “Some of the info on the plant will be from people they freed earlier, but how the hell did they know which of the people we had here were plants? Even the AI doesn’t know that — only you, me and our Security Chief.”

  “They must have insider intel,” said the Brigadier. “We’ll change tactics. Concentrate all our forces and make them come to us in our chosen locations.” She indicated the wrecked factory units. “Salvage as much as possible and get it moved. I want it done quickly. Then set this place as a trap. See to it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The Colonel activated his comlink and gave a series of orders. “That’ll get it moving.” He hesitated. “But from what the Guard Commander says, something made the AI monitors malfunction. Without them, the towers were useless. I suggest we look to manned defences and cut out the AI system altogether.”

  “I agree,” the Brigadier replied. “According to my briefings on Heron and O’Connor, they shouldn’t be capable of getting into a system without being close to it. Ours is screened, so it should shut them out altogether. Either our briefings are wrong, or something else is at work here.”

  “You wish to communicate with your own people off this world?”

  Harry sat bolt upright. The Provider had read his thoughts. “Yes, but how? Only an AI system can encrypt the messages for these hypercom emmiters. Can you do it?”

  “I have created a link, yes. It is not through the intelligence of our enemy, but it will allow you to make contact with your own people if I am given the encrypted message.”

  Thinking furiously, Harry hesitated. “I need to send a package I have created in our enemy’s system. It is already encrypted in anticipation of your finding a means to enable it. Can we retrieve it and send it?”

  “Direct me. I will retrieve it and send it when you show me the path.”

  “Then follow me through the system.”

  The package was on its way — crude, possibly corrupted in part, but hopefully recoverable. He grinned. He’d sent it to Captain Brandeis at Fleet Security, and could just picture the uproar when they realised what it contained. He laughed at the thought of what the Consortium would do if they found out he’d just sent their entire Code Book to the Fleet with their latest deployment intentions.

  Admiral Hartmann keyed her comlink. “Flags, get a secure link to Rear Admiral Heron — immediately, please.”

  “Yes, Admiral.” The Flag Lieutenant moved to the Signals Master. “Flag to Flag. Gold Code.”

  “Vanguard online now, sir.” He looked up as the hologram formed. “Morning, Tom. Gold Code. Flag to Flag, for your Lord and Master from ours.”

  “Morning yourself, Franz. Rear Admiral Heron standing by. On the mark, three.” He gave a curt nod. “One, two, three.” The pair touched keys, and the secure channel between the Admirals was a private connection.

  “Good morning, James, I have a mission for your Fleet,” Admiral Katrina Hartmann began. “You’re aware that the signal interference was being directed from Planet Lycania. If the Security people are correct, your ward, Sub-Lieutenant Heron, has just sent us a message from that planet.”

  “At least we know where he is now. Presumably he’s safe and still free?”

  “Very much so. He sent us a complete list of all the prisoners held there, and marked up the ones now freed and fighting with him, plus an inventory of the stuff they’re manufacturing and mining on that planet.” She paused. “Through the efforts of Harry and his crew, we’ve pushed back the Consortium and got them stretched at the moment, so this is an opportunity to la
unch a direct assault on their Base. You will take out the installation they were using to orchestrate their activities in that sector, and release all of our people held prisoner there. It’ll turn their most vulnerable flank. I’m assigning three extra squadrons to your command. You’ll get the USS Constellation and her support group, the Karl der Größe and her task group and the first heavy cruisers. You’ll have six assault ships with full complements of troops. Your orders are to land forces on the planet and clear out the Consortium installations and personnel. There’s a native population to consider, a canine-like people known as the Canids. If possible, we want no collateral damage to them, though the intel suggests there is some sort of resistance movement at work against the Consortium that involves the natives. We’re not sure if that’s Harry’s group, though it’s possible. We will want to make an alliance with the Canids as soon as we have the opportunity.”

  “Right.” James Heron acknowledged the order, his mind already assembling the things he would have to include in his plans and orders. “The intel says their fleet are massed in the Merovian sector, but they still have three squadrons near enough to Lycania to put up a stiff resistance and to be reinforced quite easily.”

  “Leave that to me. My task is to make sure they don’t interfere with you. I have a couple of personal scores to settle with my old friend Bob Gratz.”

  “So I hear. The latest report says they’ve sent reinforcements for the garrison on Lycania, and their mining and manufacturing operations there are crippled.” He smiled. “That rather suggests my wards are causing something of a stir.”

  “That’s true,” said the Admiral. “The intel reports have been a bit puzzling on that score. One report suggested something explosive was being used in attacks on the Base there. Would that be your pair?”