Harry Heron Savage Fugitive

by Patrick G Cox

  Something nagged at the back of her mind. Could their intel have been wrong? It had always been accurate until now. Where were Hartmann and her flagship? Why were there only four starships on scan? She’d expected five. “Run a check on our intel sources. Is the Vengeance reported in any other system?”

  Her Intel Officer ran a check then cross checked. “Admiral, this report states that she’s with the main fleet in the Regulus sector. And it’s confirmed — she’s there. Our intel must be flawed.”

  “Then who the hell—?” She stopped as the alarms sounded and the ship lurched when it took a hit from behind. The Admiral stared in disbelief at her display.

  “Starship Vanguard engaging,” announced the Control Officer. “Rear Admiral Heron’s flagship, and she’s got six heavy cruisers and her frigates with her. Admiral, we’re outgunned and out manoeuvred. Orders?”

  “Damn that James Heron! Damn him!” She struggled to control her anger. “We’ll have to fight our way clear. All ships to disengage and turn away. Execute a battle turn on my mark. Make for the sixth planetary orbit and regroup. Launch missiles and mines as we turn.”

  Why did it have to be Heron? He had been her nemesis over and over again in battle simulation training, and she was sure he knew that it was she he was up against.

  James Heron watched the display, his eyes missing nothing. His intervention had been well timed, though the enemy flagship had been handled with finesse and extricated from the attack with what seemed to be minimal damage. Now he expected his opponent to regroup her forces. Though they were evenly matched, his fleet had a slight edge in that all its ships were purpose built. His one doubt was the recently joined independent vessels. This was, after all, their first engagement. His analysis of his opponent’s tactics and his assessment of the system’s possible options for manoeuvre led him to believe his enemy would attempt to turn away behind a screen of mines and missiles. There was only one possible area where they would be able to regroup, and he planned to follow closely enough to disrupt any redeployment.

  A change in the attitudes of the three key ships he had marked as the leaders alerted him. “Flags, warn the Fleet. They’re trying a battle turn. They’ll launch mines and missiles to cover it. All ships, on my mark, execute a simultaneous turn to north ninety, then follow.”

  He watched the enemy ships for the first indication, and by instinct more than any visual indicator, he saw the beginnings of the evasion. “Now! Keep on top of them!”

  As the enemy disengaged and turned through a full one hundred and eighty degrees to streak out of range and regroup, his own ships changed axis then flipped onto a parallel course to follow the fleeing enemy, the mines scattering into empty space.

  Commander Nielsen picked himself up. Even inside the confinement lounge the blast had made his ears ring, and the shockwave, transmitting through the walls, had been powerful enough to knock everyone to the floor. He could see that the upper part of the dome had been stripped away. He gave silent thanks for the fact that all the cells and prisoner accommodations were on the lower levels, and the damaged portion was a simple shell designed to protect the occupants from the weather. Even so, some sections had fallen in on the far side, and the activity there suggested the collapsing section had damaged the guards’ quarters.

  A Consortium officer hurried toward him, on his way to the damaged area.

  “Lieutenant,” the Commander called. “Are my people in danger? You have a duty to protect us, you know. “

  “Against your own bloody terrorists?” The Lieutenant’s voice was sharp. “Commander, I’ll see to your people as soon as I’ve got mine out of the wreckage. I don’t know what they’ve used, but it’s caused a hell of a lot of damage and casualties.”

  “Look, let me move the people on that side.” The Commander thought briefly of the word Harry used in his note. “I’ll give you our parole not to interfere with your people if you’ll allow me to move them to a safer part of the dome.”

  The Lieutenant hesitated. “Okay, I’ll do it. Move your people to the recreation and mess area — that’s undamaged.” He signalled a running guard. “Let the Commander out and accompany him to release his people. Escort them to the Recreation Block, and stay with them.”

  The guard’s anxiety made him jumpy and disrespectful to his charges. “Come on, damn you,” he yelled, waving his weapons in the Commander’s face. “Move it. My mates are under that.”

  “Take it easy, Private Yerevan.” The Commander read the man’s nametag. “I have given my word to the Lieutenant that we won’t attempt to escape or interfere with you or your companions in any way. Now let’s just take it calmly, and we’ll all be fine.”

  “Look, sir.” The man steadied. “Some of my mates are trapped on that side, and I want to go and help them. I don’t need this detail.”

  “I know exactly how you feel. It’s not easy being locked up in here and a target for both sides, you know.” The Commander’s refusal to get angry or give way steadied the man. “So let’s get my people out and moved, and then let’s see what we can do to help anyone who’s been injured.”

  This seemed to work, and the prisoners were soon transferred to the Mess Hall, Library and Lounge area.

  “Now my people are safe, perhaps we can lend a hand, Captain.” The Commander addressed a harassed medic.

  Overhearing this, the Guard Commander replied, “Perhaps your people can help some of my men get our wounded out of the Barracks Block. It’s collapsed, and we need some extra muscle.” He frowned. “You’ll have to give your — parole was it? — not to attempt anything against my people, though.”

  The Commander saw the irony of the situation, but tactfully held his peace. After all, it seemed possible that he and his fellow officers would soon be dealing with whoever had caused the blast. If it was Harry and Ferghal, he hoped they had survived it.

  “Certainly,” he said, and called his fellow prisoners to where he stood.

  Chapter 29 — Harry’s Gamble

  Harry joined Ferghal, relieved to see his friend unharmed, albeit smoke blackened and spattered with dirt. “We have lost twenty at least in this, my friend. But I think the Marines will soon be upon us, and we can finish it. How did you fare when that explosion occurred? Have any of yours fallen?”

  “Aye, two of mine were killed before the blast, and six more are injured now. What was it that exploded? I have never seen anything like it. It was like the stories told on Bellerophon of the destruction of the French flagship at Aboukir Bay in 1798.”

  “It would seem so.” Harry frowned. “Though from memory I do not recall any telling of being thrown to the ground as far from the blast as I was.” He checked the men gathering around him as the Coxswain limped up to them, his face cut and bloodied. “Mr. Winstanley, I am glad to see you — how many of our people have we lost?”

  “I make the tally twenty-two, sir, with another thirty wounded. We were lucky when whatever it was exploded. It gave us the chance to get clean away while they tried to get themselves together.” He gave Harry a crooked grin. “But I hope you don’t intend to let off any more like that one, sir!”

  “I think I would be cautious of doing so even if I knew what had caused it.” Harry smiled, recognising the Coxswain’s attempt to lighten the atmosphere and seeing the grins on the faces around him as Maddie Hodges embraced Errol Hill. “I am reasonably certain the Marines from other ships will be here soon. I observed some landing no more than five miles from us. I believe we should keep up the assault. Our enemy has withdrawn into the main part of the camp, and we may yet free our officers, but I think we must move with some caution. Cornered rats can give a fatal bite to the unwary.” He glanced at Ferghal. “How is our store of munitions?”

  “We don’t have much left, though we have many grenades and shoulder rockets remaining. Our mortar shells are all but expended — our aerial rockets too. I have sufficient charges and canisters for the guns, but there will be
no cover for them once we approach the perimeter.”

  “Very well. We have enough to be a nuisance until the Marines arrive. Here is what we will do — I propose a bluff.”

  Brigadier Newton read the handwritten note. She stared at it in some disbelief. Even more bizarre — the note had been delivered by a rocket fired into the guardhouse. When it failed to explode, someone plucked it out of the wall and realised that it was a hollow canister. She read the note again.

  To the Officer Commanding,

  Madam,

  In the interests of avoiding further calamity, I propose that you surrender to me the remainder of your personnel and the Officers of the Fleet you hold here. Failure to do so will ensure the destruction of what remains of this camp and of that camp you call the Sinclair Garrison. If you do not surrender on the expiry of this ultimatum, I shall order the detonation of a further device and leave the rescue of any survivors to the Landing Force now on its way to join us. If you agree to my terms, you will display a single white flag at the gate of this enclosure and attend in person to surrender fifty yards before the gate. On seeing you there unarmed, I will join you. If you fail to respond in twenty minutes, I will give the order to detonate our charges.

  I have the honour to be,

  H Nelson-Heron

  Sub-Lieutenant, NECS Daring

  “Bloody cheek!” exploded the Colonel when she had managed to decipher the beautiful copperplate handwriting. “He has to be bluffing!”

  “Maybe.” The Brigadier stared at the delivery rocket. “And maybe not. Bloody brilliant way to send a warning message, I hate to admit. We don’t know what the hell blew up out there — or what caused it to. There’s a hell of a lot we don’t know about this man and his people. They seem to have been able to come and go as they please, blow up our outposts and vanish again without a trace. Yes, I know they’ve had help from the Canids — but we haven’t managed too well against them either!”

  “We’ve been doing everything we possibly can,” the Colonel protested.

  Brigadier Newton made up her mind. “Signal the Landing Force to land at Sinclair. That will give them time to assemble and prepare to take on the Fleet’s people. Take a small party with you, and break out while I talk to this Sub Lieutenant. These savages can’t be watching the entire perimeter. If you use the armoured personnel carriers and make a run from the garage, you’ll be able to get clear before they react.”

  The Colonel saluted and hurried away.

  To her adjutant who was nursing a broken arm and numerous cuts — the result of having been flung some distance from an exposed position — Brigadier Newton said, “Order the troops to hold their fire. I’m going out to parlay. Have the senior officer from the prisoners brought here and a white flag shown at the gate, please. I don’t want to be shot by accident!”

  The Vanguard lurched as she took a hit, but Admiral Heron watched the battle display intently. So far he had managed to frustrate every attempt that Admiral Enescu had made to extricate her force, and the losses in ships damaged or disabled were mounting. He detected another change in manoeuvre. “Open the range again,” he ordered. “They’re trying to close for a missile strike.”

  “Should we request clearance for the primary, sir?”

  The Admiral frowned as he considered this. The last occasion they had used what was referred to as the primary, it had resulted in a shockwave that rippled through hyperspace and caused enormous damage to everything it touched — not least the scanners and communications networks.

  “Negative,” he replied. “We know they haven’t got it, and we can’t risk blowing out our own systems in the backwash.”

  “They’re attempting to retreat, sir,” the Scan Officer interrupted.

  “Maintain tracking and pursue. Message to the Tromp — she and Cruiser Squadron Forty-Two are to remain in system to mop up. Their cripples can still cause our forces a problem.”

  “Entering transit, sir. We have a tracking lock on their ships.”

  “Very well, message to all ships and to C-in-C — Intend to force an engagement or to push the enemy toward the main fleet.”

  This was going to be a long pursuit, but he had no intention of letting his opponent get away. To his Flag Lieutenant he said, “Let’s see if we can provoke Admiral Enescu to make a mistake. She’s inclined to respond badly when pushed too hard.”

  Brigadier Newton checked her uniform and deliberately unclipped her weapons belt. “Better avoid any misunderstanding.” She grimaced. “I suspect this is the end of the road for me anyway, but here goes.” She joined the waiting Commander. “Thanks for your efforts on behalf of my wounded,” she said. “I understand your people have been helping to extricate them. Now, I’d appreciate your company to meet this Sub-Lieutenant of yours.”

  “Certainly, Brigadier. Offered to parlay, has he?”

  “He’s threatening to do to the rest of us what he’s apparently already done to the operational side of the Base. He’s offered me surrender terms, so I’m going out to talk. As you know him, perhaps you can assist me in negotiating.”

  “I’ll do my best, Brigadier. Mr. Heron does have some interesting ideas and methods. I wouldn’t put it past him to carry out his threat.”

  From beneath his Canid cloak, Harry saw the two figures step from the dome entrance and advance toward the gate. The rank markings at this distance were indistinguishable, but one of the figures was clearly a woman. The other was easily recognisable as Daring’s Executive Commander. A white banner had been erected a few minutes before attached to a pole raised from behind another smaller dome behind the gatehouse.

  Harry nodded to Maddie Hodges. Both drew the Canid cloaks over their heads and vanished from sight. Harry stepped out of cover and walked quietly to meet the advancing officers, Maddie beside him.

  Ferghal watched for any hint of treachery. He didn’t have much ammunition left, but he fully intended to make sure any treachery was repaid in a manner that would not be forgotten. He recognised the Commander and felt sure there would be no betrayal, but his confidence in the Consortium’s behaving honourably was non-existent. Honour between enemies was something Harry could place his trust in. Ferghal had a much less noble view on the matter.

  He checked his launchers were ready then concentrated on the waiting officers. He saw their start of surprise as Harry appeared in front of them, the cloak falling at his feet.

  Harry saluted, the startled faces of the officers as he materialized in front of them making him struggle to suppress his urge to laugh. Instead, he said, “Brigadier, Sub-Lieutenant Heron. Commander, I trust you are well, sir. Are our colleagues safe?” He received their acknowledgement and assurances. “Do you surrender, ma’am?”

  The Brigadier had a sense of unreality as she stared at the wild-looking youth in front of her. His mop of hair styled to resemble the mane and ear tufts of a Canid, he looked like something from the very distant human past. How could this — this complete caveman, this boy — have destroyed all her efforts and run rings round her experienced troops?

  “You are Heron?” she asked.

  “I have that honour.” Harry frowned. “The Commander will, I’m sure, confirm it.”

  “I see you have been making do, Harry.” The Commander acknowledged him. “You seem to have made an impact here, all right. What the devil did you detonate just now? It almost blew us away as well.”

  “I shall have to refrain from revealing that at the moment, if you have no objection, sir. Suffice it to say we have another such device ready for firing.” To Brigadier Newton, he said, “With respect, ma’am, do you surrender? I will guarantee the safety and welfare of your people. The Canids are not savages and will provide the essential food and shelter until we may make more suitable arrangements.”

  The Brigadier stalled. “What if I refuse? I think you’re bluffing, young man. I’ll make a trade with you. I will release to you all the officers held here in exchange for safe
conduct for all of my people to our second Base on this planet.”

  “Ma’am, I assure you that I make no bluff. The Fleet Landing Force is on its way to join us. I can present them with what remains of your Base now, or I can leave it as a crater and permit them to proceed against your other Base without pause. I have only to walk away from this meeting unaccompanied by either of you for my people to set in motion the final destruction of this Base.”

  She already knew the Fleet Landing Force was closing on their position, and a second force had already engaged the forces Admiral Enescu had landed to support her. She studied the serious-faced young man before her. There was no trace of doubt or hesitation in his expression; he apparently meant every word he said.

  “Very well,” she replied. “I surrender my command to you, Lieutenant. I will order my people to stand down and to disarm and disengage the perimeter defences. Do I have your assurance that you will disarm whatever device you have planted?”

  “I give you my word that the Base will not be destroyed, Brigadier, unless your people attempt some act of treachery against me or mine. Please give the order for your people to lay down their arms and form up in the open next to that dome.”

  Harry waited while the Brigadier used her comlink to give her orders. Troops began to emerge from their positions and collect in disgruntled groups. He turned slightly and said to an invisible companion, “Hodges, give the signal.”

  The sudden appearance of the ComOp surprised the Brigadier and the Commander. They watched as Maddie produced a pair of sticks with bright red and yellow flags attached to the ends. Turning away, she raised these and made a series of swift movements. “Acknowledged, sir.”

  Both officers exclaimed in surprise.