Meddlers In Time
Wayne Watson
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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All characters appearing in
this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or
otherwise able to take legal action against me, is purely
coincidental.
All the names were pulled out of my memory and
applied more or less at random. You ain't that character just because
you share a first name and a trade.
That's my story and I'm
sticking to it.
Mission: Deep Cover Agent Provocateur
Infiltrate the Imperium in the 35th century and facilitate a state of total war with Hegemony forces.
No local assets.
No retrieval.
***
Meddlers in Time
Out of the frying pan, into the fire
I hate getting killed.
It rates right up there as some of my very worst experiences. No matter how or how often it happens I will never get used to it- and I do all I can to avoid it.
Which is not always easy in the more interesting parts of the Empire.
Getting to where I am now has cost me three lives- at about 1.2 million adjusted Imperials a time.
Sometimes I wish my crew wouldn’t try so hard to recover the running backup with the nasty bits on it, but I know there is usually some valuable lesson there- like how I screwed up and got slotted.
But the more ‘valuable’ the lesson I get to learn, the more I would rather be restored from the last full backup.
Still, it could be worse- after all- I am only one of a very few that get to die another day, in this time and place…
***
Helzin Loyalist Bloc
Special Operations Group
“I don’t like this operation at all, Commander, but I have no other choices. The Imperials are demanding we get the last separatist stronghold cleaned out,” said Admiral Haverston. “They can’t get the cruisers over the continent to land their Marines until that PA cannon emplacement is taken out. So your company has to kill those guns- your mission is a go.”
Commander Jamieson gave a dry grin. “I had best get the troops moving then, sir.”
“Good luck Commander,” said the Admiral, as Jamieson strode out of his office. “I hope you can do this or I will have to nuke that Continent bare- of 284 million souls…”
***
Recon Company
3rd Expeditionary Force
Helzin Colonial Marines.
“The area is tight- signal Cranston and inform him that Breaker is a go. As of now, nobody enters, nobody leaves this base and all communications are cut off after you call Cranston. We load and move at 2530. Make it happen.”
“Aye Sir,” said Andrea, the company clerk, who immediately sent the pre-prepared signal and shut down communications on her tablet.
Wayne turned to his 2IC, Tom Phillips. “Tom, it’s a go- get the troops ready to load up. The advance party moves in 90 minutes.”
Tom gave a casual salute and doubled off towards the company HQ.
Six months of training had just come to a head.
***
Commander Jamieson was one of the first swimmers to reach land. Pulling himself out of the heavy surf onto the rocks at the base of the cliff, he attached a chemical piton to the rock and waited. As soon as the anchor had cured, he attached the winch and started to wind in his spider line. Waiting for the five-kilometer monomolecular line to wind in, he flipped down his image intensifier goggles and started to scan the cliff face, looking for the best line.
***
Jamieson’s alpha team landed, securing the submersible raft and unloading equipment. With the belay anchor for the first leg set, he started the climb, first up a small chimney, then following a crack. As he climbed, he left a trail of hex and cam locks. Climbing may have been a lost art on Helzin, but not to Wayne, who was now exploiting the belief that these cliffs where unscalable. As he climbed, he paused to hammer in plastic pitons for the following climbers to use as hand and footholds. There were plenty of cracks for these- they would not be strong enough to arrest a fall, but would dramatically speed up the climb for the others that would have the benefit of a top-rope.
At the 150-meter mark, Jamieson paused on a small ledge, while a chemical piton cured.
Just nine short months ago, he was a- THE- leading privateer, commanding the vessel ‘Wotan’s Fury’. Thirty years of operating in the Empire, working up the ranks- from ordinary spacer to shareholder officer, then his own small command and now commander of the premier Free Company aligned to the empire…
***
Helzin
Nine Months Earlier
Dropping out of Subspace into high orbit about Helzin, Captain Jamieson passed his compliments to the Sailing Master for her usual perfect approach. As the sectors reported in secure, he gave permission for the lighters to approach, to carry their loot down to the markets of Helzin’s Southern bloc. The end of another tour, keeping the Hegemony out of the way while the Helzin civil war ran it's course. Taking the Captain’s gig, Wayne and party descended to the surface to meet with Admiral Haverston- CIC of the Southern Bloc.
Haverston opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of genuine New Islay Scotch.
“That was an impressive feat of arms, taking an outie cruiser intact,” said Haverston.
“You wanted an intact Crow warship, now you have one, sir. I believe the fee was agreed upon?”
“10 Million, now in your account. Now I know this is a bad time, but we need to talk about the conditions of you warrant.”
“My Letters of Marquee are in order- what do you mean?”
“Under the terms, we can second you into our Navy- we are currently under such a condition as making this necessary. Our negotiations with the Empire require that we take control of all nations of our world, for a Class One admission to the Empire. You are now officially in the Helzin navy with the rank of Commander.
We need you, to help us take the Northern bloc. And we are invoking the conditions on your Letters of Marquee.”
“I suppose you have me then,” said Wayne. “I signed the papers and a deal is a deal.”
“Good man .I had hoped you would see it that way- We are prepared to reimburse you at the standard rates for a private command- we need all the vessels we can get.”
“Good luck Haverston- I signed ownership over to Commander Hendrick before I dropped. As we speak, he will be underway for New Hamburg. You have me- but not my ship or crew.
Haverston’s face turned crimson at that news and he roared- “You bloody pirate!”
“Privateer- Sir.”
As quick as he had turned to anger, Haverston started to laugh- “It would appear I indeed have my man- you slippery bugger.”
Uninvited, Wayne walked over to the sideboard and filled his glass to the brim with whiskey. “I need a good researcher, a procurements officer and command of your best recon team. Now before you blow a blood vessel, I brought my Marine 2IC with me. Let us have a look at your plan to break the Northern Wall.
***
“It won’t work and it wouldn’t have worked with my ships either- but I think I see a hole- give me a week and I will have a workable plan- it’s going to cost you, mind.”
“Just get those defenses down, so that the Imperials can land- damn them- they don’t want losses- and the cost will be met.”
“I need Cranston’s air wing too.”
“Who the hell is the Admiral here?”
“Just do what the Commander wants and you will stay an Admiral- Sir.”
***
“Ok Sergeant, they say you are the one for procurements- here are a few items I want to see in my stores before the end of the week. Here is another one. This lot needs to be in our mess before the end of work today. If it ain’t- well, I’m not making threats. Let’s see what you can do sarge.
Sergeant Carl Robinson looked at the list and started making calls. This would be easy, but no doubt the boss would have harder tasks before long.
***
The anchor firm, he fed the top rope through the crab, for the climbers following, hauled up another bag of gear and resumed his climb.
The rock was better here and the second leg of the climb went much faster. Behind, the next party was already on the ledge below, bringing up the winch and fibre optic comms line. At 320 meters, I had reached a chimney near the top of the vertical face. There was no need for the rope now, so I placed a sling around a boulder and gave a series of tugs on the rope, to let the team below know I had arrived. Again, I sent the rope back down below until a tug told me they had the end. I shot up the chimney, scouting around for the spot I had seen on the reconnaissance photos. Having located the wide ledge, I set my last chemical anchors and backtracked to meet the climbers behind me. Along the way, I set the last of my hexs and slings as handholds.
The first of the team was already at the top with the winch, so we returned to set that up while the others brought the rest of our gear up the cliff. As we connected the winch to the anchors, Andrea arrived with the commlink. Once she had that operating, her job was to traverse the top of the cliff and make contact with the second climb- Tom’s lead, 300 meters away. This fibre optic link was the only communications we would have, with us not daring to break radio silence until the attack was under way. Now I could talk to the rest of my team and had connectivity to the submerged weapons platforms not far offshore.
We now had 40 troops at the bottom of the climb, with another seven on or heading up the cliff- plus about five thousand kilos of equipment. I checked my watch- 0135hrs. We were a few minutes ahead of schedule and I hoped to gain some time when we started winching. With the arrival of the carbon-fiber booms and the power pack, that would be happening in a few minutes.
***
Andrea stopped at the sound of a quiet hiss. She had reached the perimeter of the next beachhead. The sentry passed her through and pointed the direction of their CP.
“Good to see you, Corporal,” said the platoon commander, as she hooked up the cable. This middle position had the easiest climb and was already winching troops and equipment up.
“Anything from Gold?” Andrea asked.
“Nothing so far- they may not have been able to traverse.”
She switched on the comms set. “Looks like you were right, Sir- they had to send a swimmer with a line around to your landing. They report setting up the winch now.”
“Thanks Corporal- you can head back to your team now- good luck.”
It would be a lot quicker going back now that she had found a path- which was a good thing- it got lonely up here on your own.
***
With the last of the climbers up, we started winching up the others. The winch could lift 1000 kg up the 350 meters in five minutes. We would attach a padded pole, which four troops would clip onto, and then we would walk them up the cliff face. Once we had most of them up here, we would start lifting cargo. We had done this in 90 minutes in training.
I left the Carl in charge of the winch and started the next part of the operation, sending the scouts out to mark paths through the boulders and low scrub that made up the cliff tops. I now had voice and video from the other two CP’s. Gold was behind schedule, but Omaha and we were well ahead of time. The plan would work with two positions operational, in any case.
The most critical part of the mission, the ability to initiate the three submerged weapons platforms launch sequence was now all go.
***
Andrea stopped behind a three-meter high boulder and listened for a couple of minutes. Hearing nothing but the wind, she slowly pushed a thin, gray plastic tube into and along a crack in the stone and taped it to the boulder. With the guide tube in place, she slid the whisker of the sensor above the top of the boulder. Invisible to radar or even the eye of someone a meter away, this allowed her to see what was beyond. Satisfied she had a good field of view, she connected the pickup to the CP and crept away to deploy her second probe.
***
We were getting some good imagery now and had been able to pick out six of the eight point defense turrets and all four of the longer-range heavy lasers. There was also a foot patrol at section strength out there. Heading away from us, but they will still be out there when we would assault the command bunker. Something else to deal with.
0345hrs- Everyone is in place and we are ready to go. The attack starts at 0415 as soon as the air defense system engages the missile attack from Cranston’s aircraft.
***
A soon as they were painted, the two light fighters launched their probes and broke away from the threatening lasers. Predictably, the heavy laser turrets on the peninsular soon shot down the missiles.
However, the fleeing fighters now had the coordinates of the laser emplacements.
***
Four squadrons of GS-19 ground attack aircraft closed rapidly on the emplacements. As they approached the effective range of the lasers, they simultaneously launched a mixture of decoys and missiles, attempting to overload the defenses and then broke off sharply.
***
At the first sound of crackling, superheated air that marked the lasers firing, Jamieson flipped the switch cover and initiated the three batteries launch sequence. On the seabed, the barges fired their gas generators, blowing water from the ballast tanks. As soon as the barges surfaced, the batteries of mortars fired salvos milliseconds apart. From each barge, 300 100mm RAM bombs flew over the cliff tops on a high trajectory and started their free-fall downwards. From here, their seeker heads locked onto targets and a secondary rocket motor propelled them downwards.
Now all the laser turrets were fully engaged, 900 incoming rockets overloaded the deadly point defense system (which also worked against troops on the ground.). We were now free to engage the main turrets. Throughout the rocks of the cliff top, guided missiles- explosive and kinetic- flashed out at the laser tubes. Heavy anti-material rifles added to the point defense system’s problems- DU needles tearing through the turrets, wreaking delicate components.
Within five seconds, the defenses were effectively down and the remaining missiles screamed overhead, headed towards the heavily armored particle accelerator. The rest of the aircraft would not be far behind them.
The raiders moved forward to assault the command bunker, following the fleeing patrol, which were now running for cover. They had made their last mistake, that of not looking back.
***
Imperial Cruiser ‘Tobruk’
Helzin low orbit
“Gunner- you have command,” said the pilot. Jenny edged the 180,000 tonne cruiser forward, making minute adjustments to its attitude, as she lined up the spinal mount of the ion cannon with the surface emplacement. This was a devastating weapon, but was a clumsy one to use, requiring the whole ship to be pointed at the target. This would be like an old time gunfight between two men with pistols. A balancing act between speed and accuracy.
As the simulations of the last week had shown, Ensign Jenny DeVries was both fast and shot straight. So good that the captain had given her the gun ahead of his more experienced officers. She was young- in the final year of the Imperial Academy officers training, but no one questioned her nerve- certainly none that had been on a boarding party with her.
Now they were at extreme range- she had a firing solution but it was not optimal. The bridge was unusually hushed with the only sound the hum of the ventilation fans, when the Chief Yeoman broke the silence. “Sir- local forces have successfully engaged the emplacement. Main gun is now being engaged- blast doors are closed, I say again, blast doors are closed.”
“There is your opening Miss- go get him,” said Captain Rodgers.
Jenny moved the cruiser forward at full power, rapidly closing the distance, her fingertips making minute adjustments, and then fired, taking the whole bridge by surprise with her speed.
***
“What a fuckin’ trip!” said Andrea, passing the handset and code sheet. The shock wave had knocked everyone down and only their NV goggles had saved them from flash-burnt eyes. Further inland, flashes over the horizon showed that the Imperial navy had not wasted any time in attacking the capital’s defenses.
“Sword is gone- I say again Sword is GONE- authenticate 2wzp96- damn fine shooting Tobruk.”
Jamieson shook himself off. “OK people- enough lying around- we have a command bunker to take.”
A short firefight broke out from the left flank, as Tom’s platoon made contact with the remainder of the security patrol. Two minutes later came a call “We have the back door to Utah open.”
In a stroke of luck, Tom had caught the patrol entering one of the hidden doors to the command bunker complex. As we arrived, he was already preparing to assault.
We would distract the command crew by detonating a breaching charge at the main airlock door, with a feinting attack there.
This was the sort of work Tom and I had specialized in as privateers- fighting with blade and pistol in confined spaces. Nasty, messy stuff.
We shrugged off our harness and packs and started pulling on body armour, while the specialists got ready for the assault.
***
Imperial Cruiser ‘Tobruk’
Helzin low orbit
“Ground forces report target quote ‘gone’ Sir.”
Jenny safed the gun and immediately started lining up with the next target.
“Signal from OBS ‘Monitor,’ Sir.”
“On-screen Chief.”
Admiral Hamersley appeared on the screen. “Compliments to your gunner Captain- that was the best bloody shooting I have ever seen. Now- can the ‘Monitor’ be of assistance here?”
“Sir, you picked a very good time to get in the fight- your target data is on the way now,” said Captain Rodgers.
The whole bridge breathed a sigh of relief. They were previously taking on planetary defenses on an even basis. Now- well, an Orbital Bombardment Station was the equivalent of taking on a pistol shooter with a heavy machine cannon.
Rodgers wondered how the ‘Monitor’ happened to be here, when he should be in the Tigris system, battling defensive satellites. The empire only had a hand-full of these super-heavy stations, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
***
“These doors ain’t too hard,” said Sergeant Anson, as he hooked up the detonator.
“That’s what I thought Sarn’t,” said Tom. “I don’t think they were expecting visitors.”
“FIRING,” cried the engineer, as he detonated the charges. Even while the smoke was billowing out, the assault team headed into the bunker.
“FUCK- another one- get Anson back in here.”
“Here, sir- I thought there would be a real one behind that.”
“The other door was an airlock too,” said Andrea.
“OK, get it ready Sarge and give this one hell.”
“Aye aye boss.”
“Signal from ‘Tobruk’ boss- do you need help with this hardpoint?”
“Signal to ‘Tobruk’- wait five mike. If we breach, signal them to stand down.”
“Sir- I’m coming in too.”
“Negative Corporal- I need you to talk to Tobruk and keep them from toasting us all.”
“Aye Sir.”
***
“Sir- Ground forces request hold- they are assaulting now.”
“Gunners- hold- Chief- get us some video on the assault.”
“Aye Sir.”
“Sir- ‘Monitor’ signals. Flag requests your attendance with the gunner responsible for the ground attack, at your first convenience.”
“Acknowledged.”
***
Anson must have used all of his demo kit on that door. Viscid black smoke billowed out of the opening and ejecta pattered down behind them. Then the secondary concussion charge detonated- hopefully killing or incapacitating the occupants of the bunker. The marines rolled over the revetment and charged inwards again.
The second door led into the C&C. The lead assaulters carried short-barreled assault shotguns and started hosing the room with automatic fire. Immediately behind them, Commander Jamieson and Lieutenant Phillips unleashed a more precise and equally deadly barrage of 10mm pistol fire, as the body of the assaulters charged in stabbing, slashing and hacking.
In a very long two minutes, it was over and the bunker was secure. The defenders were wiped out before they could fight or surrender.
An assault on a confined space- a bunker or a ship was always a fast and bloody affair, with no time for quarter given. This assault was no different. The control room stunk of explosives fumes and blood. Jamieson looked about at his men- only one walking wounded with a badly cut arm, which was being bandaged by one of the medics. The floor was awash with blood, littered with the dead, and dying.
“Signaler?- that was quick- I hope you weren’t in that fight- stand Tobruk down from a ground strike and signal ‘Utah is open.’”
“Aye Sir.”
***
“Acknowledged- order those troops to their extraction point and advise them their relief is inbound.”
“Ensign DeVries- meet me at my gig in 10 minutes.”
“Aye Sir.”
‘I hope he brings Wayne up,’ thought Jenny. ‘It has been five years since I saw him last…’
***
“Signal from ‘Tobruk’, Sir- as soon as you have been debriefed, lift on the first available craft and rendezvous with ‘Monitor’."
“Acknowledge signal,” said Jamieson. “I guess that means our transport is on the way."
The operation had cost ten wounded and six dead- five of the dead from when a laser hit their missile just out of its tube.
As they looked seaward, the first aircraft could be seen approaching. As the waves of landing craft rushed overhead, several broke off to land at the designated extraction point- just to seaward of a wrecked laser turret.
Imperial marines accompanied with light tanks poured out, taking up position to secure a perimeter. A small group approached from the nearest transport.
“Sir- I have orders to lift your command back to the mainland- do you need help with your wounded?”
“No- my crew will do it, but some help with our equipment would be good- OK Marines- mount up.”
As we loaded the transport, a wheeled scout vehicle pulled up and three men climbed out- one an Imperial three-star general.
“You would be Jamieson.”
“Yes sir.”
“Damned fine work today- if you want to transfer over, be sure to mention my name,” he said, handing over a card. “That goes for everyone in your outfit too.”
Hell-this is ‘Bloodbucket’ Benson himself. This operation really must have some push behind it.
General Benson strode over to edge of the cliffs and looked down, shaking his head. Turning about, he took in the scene of shattered laser turrets burning, the still glowing molten rock in the distance where the cannon emplacement used to be and the waves of landing craft headed inland. “That operation is going to find its way into the academy textbooks.”
The Loadmaster appeared again. “Sir- we have a thirty minute delay on liftoff- there is a fire mission coming in oblique across our route.”
“Thanks Chief- we’ve dodged enough fire today,” said Jamieson.
The General asked, “Can you use some help with your wounded?”
“Well taken care of already Sir.”
“Best you get those hands dressed Commander- there will be a few wanting to shake them soon.”
Jamieson held his hands up- in the heat of the battle; he had not noticed that they were a collection of abrasions with a bit of skin between them. He had hand-jammed up a 90 meter fissure in the rock. “Damn. I though that was the other guy’s.”
Another vehicle pulled up and the General’s G2 joined them. It was only when she raised her visor that Jamieson recognized her- Sonja. Fighting to keep any expression off his face, he nodded to her in acknowledgement.
“Sir- Engineers report the bunker clear and the techs have salvaged an intact data core.” She turned to Wayne “Quite a fight in there Commander.”
“Yes- I’m pleased with the way the troops handled that one. I hope they didn’t smash the place up too badly for you.”
“Not as badly as ‘Tobruk’ would have done.”
The General glanced significantly at his chrono. “I would like to talk to your men before you retire,” he said. That almost sounded like a request- not a statement.
“Of course Sir,” said Jamieson and General Benson strode off towards the transport accompanied by Tom.
Alone with Sonja, we could now talk for the first time in three years.
“You’re in- Haverston wants you, Tom and all your officers off-planet and fast- the rebels have a price on your heads. The best place to hide you is the academy. Apart from that you are considered too damned dangerous to have around here.”
“All to plan then. I have a few good troops for our crew once this mission is over.”
“That’s a bonus. Now- your contact at the academy will be Jane- she is the head civil administrator on Earth. Don’t look for her- she will contact you. The important news- in 408 hours-check your chronometer- you will be in the Franz Josef Hotel on Taupo. At 2300 local, a gate will open in your bathroom, taking you back to Transit. From there we will have more details on your next few years. The boss is coming back now, so good luck.” We shook hands and my old friend left.
I exchanged salutes with the General and ran for the ramp as the ship’s engines powered up. The Loadmaster signaled ‘all aboard’ and I felt the momentary surge as the gravity drive engaged.
The heavy ship was already in the air and headed for home as the loadmaster started to raise the ramp. With the local and Imperial air cover they could now relax and exhausted troopers slumped on plies of equipment and such seating as there was, some even falling asleep on the deck. The cargo handlers moved amongst them passing out ration packs and bottled water.
With everyone settled, I found the Loadmaster and had him ask the flight deck for permission to come forward. This being promptly granted, the Loadmaster opened the bulkhead door and pointed the way forward through the engineering spaces to a ladder. I climbed the ladder and the flight engineer was waiting at the top to take me to the bridge.
On the bridge, there was the reassuring sight of two Warrant Officers in their fifties flying the transport. Wayne was always happier when it wasn’t some Ensign or middie at the controls.
“Coffee, Sir?” asked the flight engineer, already starting to pour from a flask.
“You read my mind Chief.”
The pilots glanced over, taking in my bloody uniform and bandaged hands. “I take back everything I ever said about colonial forces,” said the senior of the two. “That would have been one bitch of an opposed landing.”
The co-pilot interrupted. “Shit- ‘Tobruk’ just got another emplacement- that’s five now- their gunner is really on fire today.”
“Their master gunner is really wired,” said Jamieson.
“That master gunner is a cadet on her final year cruise and- she is severely fuckable.”
“If you want to stick your pride & joy into a goddamn tigress,” said the pilot.
Another brilliant flash lit the sky.
“That was a full charge.”
The flight engineer remained busy at his station. After a short while, he announced “That one was a full charge and landed right in the capital- vicinity of the assembly hall.”
A few minutes passed. “Flash traffic- that was a direct on the rebel’s government- looks like most were in there at an emergency session,” said the co-pilot. “More coming in- there is an air exclusion zone… we are well out of it. “'Tobruk’ is moving into provide close support.’
“Panning cameras aft,” said the flight engineer. “Watch this Commander- this should be something else.”
We looked at the viewplate. After a few minutes, filaments of incandescent light appeared in the sky, all pointing to a point in space.
“Some serious misery for the ground-pounders.”
“Better them than us.”
***
Cruiser ‘Tobruk’
Helzin Low Orbit
“Stand down master gunner,” said the captain. “Pilot- you have the ship- take position for close support.”
Jenny released the controls and stretched back in her chair. She had been in the chair for less than three hours but it felt like a full day.
“Ensign- you are dismissed. Report to my day cabin in three hours, prior to reporting to the Admiral.”
“Aye-aye Sir,” said Jenny and headed off to her quarters and the showers.
As she left the bridge, Captain Rodgers turned to his XO. “You ever see anything like that, Joan?”
“No, and I doubt I ever will again, Sir.”
***
“Coast coming up in minutes ten,” advised the pilot. “ETA 0947 local- medical services are standing by and no doubt you will have brass on-site.”
“Thanks Chief- I had best get below- thanks for a smooth ride.”
“Hell, thanks for an unopposed landing, Sir.”
Wayne went below and opened the bulkhead hatch. In the hanger deck, troops were cleaning their weapons, ordering the crates of equipment and had even cleaned up uniforms as best they could. ‘Damn,’ he thought, ‘That is one great crew.’
“OK troop- we are nearly home and no doubt the brass will be waiting. First priority- get the casualties off and don’t let anyone get in your way, short of shooting the fuckers. Next- see to your gear- platoon commander’s inspection at 1400.
Before long there was the familiar sensation of the artificial gravity being switched off.
“Thanks for a good ride, Chief”
“My pleasure to have a quiet flight Sir,” said the loadmaster.
As soon as the ramp was sufficiently lowered, the wounded were carried out on stretchers to the awaiting ambulances, while the body bags were loaded onto a military hearse. The remainder of the troops marched out of the transport, while the transport crew helped our loaders remove the equipment. As soon as the craft was empty, it lifted off, headed back into orbit.
Admiral Haverston and Wing Commander Cranston were the only two waiting on the edge of the LZ. Cranston was still dressed in a flight suit, his head covered in sweat from too long in a helmet.
“Cranston- your fly-boys did a great job today,” said Wayne.
“Let’s say we all saved our collective arses,” said Cranston.
***
Admiral Haverston’s eyes swept over Wayne’s torn and blood splattered uniform. “Move sharp and get cleaned up- we are off to meet with the Governor-General in thirty minutes.
With a casual salute, Wayne doubled off his nearby quarters. Once out of sight, he opened his comm and called Tom. “Looks like we are off this rock ASAP- get packing our gear while I’m off to see the brass- and check that Andrea and Carl still want to come along. I’m guessing we will be on the way before tomorrow.”
Discarding his uniform and harness, Wayne had a quick shower to clean the blood off his hands and face and pulled on the new uniform already laid out on his bed. He quickly filled his pockets with their usual contents, fastening his pistol belt as he left his room for the last time.
Haverston made no comment as Wayne returned seven minutes later. A quick change was just one of the many things he expected of his officers. Within the minute, they were sealed into a jumpbug and on their way at speed to the Capital and Haverston’s offices.
“You have probably figured this out already- You have to get off-planet immediately’ said the Admiral. “Intelligence already has word that the die-hard Northern Bloc has a price on your head.”
“My bags are already packed, success is an occupational hazard.”
“OK- have you figured out where we intend to hide you?”
“If I wanted to make somebody disappear for a few years until things quieted down, I would send them to Old Earth. That would be the tightest planet in the Empire- that’s one bitchin’ blockade to run.”
Haverston’s face flashed and he barked “You ran the...,”-then cut off as he realized that Wayne was baiting him. “You are right-, anyway, you are officially posted to the Imperial Academy Commander.” he continued, his snarl turned into a grim smile. “As a cadet.”
Wayne was totally unfazed by this. “Can I take a couple of my old crew along?”
“I should send the whole damned company. Yes, take them.”
***
The jumpbug settled atop the Admiralty building in downtown Ferrum, the Helzin capital city. As soon as the group alighted, they were whisked inside by a collection of aides and civil-service flunkies. Wayne could tell that this looked like more than a meeting with the planetary governor-general- no doubt the local aristos had heard the news and wanted to share in the success.
Governor-General Reeves met them in the conference room. He knew Wayne well, having signed to his letters of marquee and given ‘Wotan’s Fury’ what covert support he could. “Sorry it has to be like this Commander.”
“No problem Sir- I would as soon slip quietly away and leave the publicity to those who want it.”
A herald shouted, “All rise for his Lordship, Duke William of Helzin.”
All in the room rose, military personal saluting, as the new Duke of Helzin entered the room.
William returned the salute and addressed the room.
“I have several decorations and citations to present today. Firstly here, then followed by a brief ceremony at the marine barracks. We will honor the fallen at a state funeral in five days time.”
From the way several aides slipped away in a panic, the Duke was making this up as he went.
He continued. “Commander Jamieson, please step forward and receive this unit citation- The Imperial Award to Colonial Forces. As you know, an award that is not given lightly. By command of his Imperial Majesty, I present this award to First Reconnaissance Company, Helzin marines.
“Wing Commander Cranston, please step forward. By command of his Imperial Majesty, I present you with this bar to your Air Warfare Star, for the planning of the successful raid on the Northern Defenses. It is also my pleasure to announce your promotion to Air Marshal, Commander of local atmospheric defense forces.”
“Governor-General Reeves, it is my pleasure to pass you to the Tenth grade of the Imperial Civil Service and to formally confirm your governorship over the planet of Helzin.”
“There is one more honor to confirm here- Commander Jamieson, please step forward. By command of his Imperial Majesty, I present you with the Victoria Medal of Honor.”
As he leaned forward to pin the decoration on, William whispered, “All your troops that lead a climb up that bloody awful rock are up for a gong.”
“That concludes this ceremony,” said the Duke and on cue, stewards carried trays of glasses into the room. Before we could be interrupted, Duke William said to Admiral Haverston “I need to use your rooms for a quick chat with the Commander, before the Civil Service get onto us.”
“This way, my Lord” said Haverston, leading us to a side door.
With the soundproofed door shut, Duke William took a small device from his pocket and activated it. He knew that Wayne would not be surprised at his using technology from…elsewhere. In any case, Wayne was already busy picking the lock to the Admiral’s liquor cabinet.
“Here is the real stuff, Will,” said Wayne, pouring two glasses of 30-year old New Islay whiskey.
“Thank you, Wayne,” he said , taking the glass, “and very well done indeed on that mission.” he said, shaking Wayne’s now repaired hand warmly- “I was thinking that this would be a posthumous award the first time I saw a holo of that nightmare cliff and defenses.”
“The cliff wasn’t at all bad- not compared with some I have climbed. As for the defenses-, they put all their faith in technology and not in their men- our gain. Anyway, time is short- I take it you have a job for me at the academy?”
“I do indeed- there are tales of cadets buying their way into and through the academy. Investigate and report to Governor Somers.”
“You want them removed?”
“Report first and you will be advised. I foresee a few training accidents.”
“As always, discretion assured.”
“Good man. By the way- next birthday there will be a St. Andrew for you to go with that VMH. We all know that you were the planner of the Paradise Satellite capture and responsible for the success of that campaign.”
“What I really want is for one of my officers to be posted to the academy and two NCOs to go to the cadre school. Haverston has OK’d the transfer.”
“Consider it done- any officer of yours is a worthy candidate, unlike some they have had lately. The Emperor will consider the Helzin troop levy obligations met for this year now.”
“I’m sure Haverston will appreciate that.”
“The Emperor certainly appreciates your efforts here and elsewhere- he has commanded me to take a personal interest in your activities and I will be calling in on you during your tour at the academy.”
The Duke then made one of his snap decisions and said. “The worst storms always throw up items of interest.”
Wayne said “And the opportunities go to the first beachcombers who let the storm pass.”
William’s intuition seldom failed him- Wayne had just given the response phrase verbatim.
“I should have known you were in league with, if not one of, the Travelers- you knew exactly what that privacy device was.” The slight stressing of the word ‘first’ told William that Wayne was almost certainly a Traveler, not just one of their agents.
The Travelers were a near mythical group of smugglers and spies that could move at will and even through time- if you believed the stories. Officially, they did not exist, but they were well-known at the highest levels of court- if never spoken about directly. Not all were friendly to the Empire.
William had long had suspicions regarding the unprecedented successes of ‘Wotan’s Fury’ and her master- although it could not be denied they were a fighting company second to none- even the Imperial Elite.
“I have a few connections,” Wayne said. “What good smuggler doesn’t?”
“We definitely need a long talk and I have just moved my schedule up. Right- time marches on- 23 minutes of mingling and we are off to your barracks and the hospital- I have a bucket full of tin to hand out.”
“Hopefully they won’t be too drunk yet.”
“If so, the base is still a secure zone and the hangers-on will have to cool their heels outside,” said William, opening the door.
***
Right on schedule, we were back in the jumpbug, headed back to the barracks. A few quick phone calls ahead and Tom, Andrea and Carl were told to be packed and ready to move. The troops were expecting us and by the time we got there, they should be tidied up.
Sure enough, as our aircraft landed, Tom already had the company formed up to receive dignitaries. All but two of the more seriously wounded had even rejoined us.
Duke William was a soldier himself and knew that the last thing these troops needed was a long-winded speech. He simply told them that today they had written a new chapter in military history and that the war was as good as won, thanks to them. He awarded the unit citation, then the decorations for actions on the day.
Andrea received a St. Michael- a non-combat award- for her research and planning, promotion to sergeant and a Bronze Combat Star for her traverse of the cliff to link the two platoons.
The parade culminated in the award of the Gold Combat Star to Tom and Gunny Anderson for their roles in swimming ashore and scaling the cliffs.
The short presentation done, the duke said, “I’m off to visit your comrades who can’t be with us and to pay my respects to the fallen. Lieutenant- you have my leave to dismiss the parade, but first- all drinks are on the Emperor for the next three days.”
Tom ordered a royal salute as the Duke’s jumpbug and escorts took off, and then dismissed the parade.
Haverston turned to Wayne and said, “You have four hours with your troops. A shuttle will pick you up here. That was one hell of a job of work today.” He turned and strode off to his jumpbug.
The troops were already queuing up with questions.
***
Later in the evening at the Governor-General’s residence, Duke William, the Governor-General and Admiral Haverston had met for a late supper.
“Helzin is going to miss that pirate,” said Haverston. “His crew brought a hell of a lot of credit here- and kept a lot of undesirables away.”
“His old company are to disband- they are too high-profile after the taking of the Paradise orbital defenses,” said William. “They have a lot of accumulated credit and most want to retire while they are at the top of their game. But after a while, a few will come back for the excitement of their old life, mark my words.”
“He was just too dangerous to have out here,” said Governor Reeves. “Such men attract followers and if he could train a free company to a standard as good as the Imperial Forces- there is only one safe place for him- from the Empire’s perspective.”
“Perceptive as usual, Anthony- men that dangerous need to be under the direct control of the Empire,” said Duke William.
“I think that one is under control only as far as he wants to be,” said Admiral Haverston.
***
The first available transport turned out to be a courier shuttle- rather crowded with four of us plus the shuttle’s pilots, but it was only a thirty-minute boost to the ‘Monitor’.
As we neared the battle platform, its huge size started to become apparent. “No wonder they don’t have too many of these,” said Tom.
Wayne had to bite his tongue and refrain from making any comments about ‘Death Stars’. That movie had not made it through the millennium and a half as a household name and was only known to a few serious vid buffs. It is funny what material had stood the test of time and was still around from the 20th century. There was a considerable following of classic 2-D movies here. ‘Lord of the Rings’ was still big in the original as well as it’s 3-D remakes and unlike so many others of its genre, ‘Blade Runner’ had made it too.
The view screens now showed an open docking bay, which we entered and waited while the airlock tube connected onto us.
With the usual wobble, the shuttles gravity was switched off and we unclipped our harness and gathered our few possessions.
At the other side of the airlock, a small reception was waiting, consisting of a Midshipman and two stewards.
“Welcome aboard the ‘Monitor’.” said the middie, clicking her heels together in a shipboard salute. “The stewards will place your luggage aboard your transport- if you will please follow me; the Admiral is ready to receive you”.
The docking bay must have been very close to the bridge, as we at the door of the Admiral’s day cabin within a few minutes. The middie pressed her thumb to the identoplate, the armored door slid open and we were ushered in.
“Welcome to the ‘Monitor’ and congratulations on your decorations- well deserved,” said Admiral Hamersley. “Commander- stay a few moments- Miss- kindly escort our visitors through to my lounge while we talk.”
The middie led the others away and the Admiral waited until the door was secure before speaking. “Seeing as I’m here, you may have guessed that Commander Hendrick pulled your stunt off.”
“I thought as much Sir, although I would have preferred your assistance a day earlier.”
“And stole your glory- I think not,” said the admiral with a chuckle. “No- we still had a hard fight of it, but with the Paradise orbital out of the battle, it was a set-piece engagement. You have taught Hendrick well- he SOLD us that defensive station for thirty million, the damned pirate.”
Wayne laughed, “Hendrick was a very competent XO.”
“Seriously though, Wayne- that was a brilliant bit of undercover and infiltration work. Of course, with you on Helzin, ‘Fury’ wasn’t taken as such a threat.
The Empire recognizes your work- right from the very top. There is another gong in it for you- in a couple of years, when all the heat dies down. You can start thinking about a house coat of arms if you survive the academy.”
“Well, never say that this old pirate didn’t do his bit for the Empire.”
Admiral Hamersley continued, “Now, unfortunately, ‘Fury’ has attracted far too much attention- from the outies- and the court. It would be a real good idea if your crew were to go into retirement. They have been one fine cat’s paw for the empire, but now they are just too damned dangerous.”
“Taking 'Allah’s Sword’ was our swan-song, Sir. That was agreed by all my shareholder officers a year ago- hell, every one of my crew are stinkin’ rich after our last dozen or so prizes. They deserve to live to spend that credit,” said Wayne.
“If you need help finding new identities for any of your crew, the Empire owes a few favors.”
“All taken care of, Sir.”
“I thought your affairs would be in order- let’s go aft and have a drink before your transport heads out.”
Wayne stepped through the hatchway into the Flag lounge- this was a luxurious room, fit to receive members of the court- as often it did. Rich wood paneling adorned with battle honors, leather upholstered furniture and mirrors strategically placed to make the room seem much larger than it was. However, what drew his eye was the Ensign in the uniform of the Imperial Navy- Jenny.
It took the discipline all of his many years of working undercover not to give himself away, even so it was obvious to all there that there was some kind of attraction here. It had been five years since they had last met and though neither would admit it freely, both missed each other dreadfully.
“Commander- I have a couple of people that have been wanting to buy you and your troops a drink- Captain Rodgers, Master of ‘Tobruk’ and Ensign DeVries, the master gunner who was dueling that Particle Accelerator.”
“Sir, Miss- may I compliment you on your gunnery. I’ve never seen a strike from an ion cannon from so close up.”
“And our thanks for keeping that gun’s attention elsewhere while Ensign DeVries snuck in and potted it, Commander,” said Captain Rodgers, shaking Wayne’s hand.
Jenny was as cool and collected as ever, as she took his hand.
“I hear you are headed for the academy, Sir,” Jenny said. “You should do well- and congratulations on your VMH. Hopefully our paths will cross again at the academy.”
The admiral cleared his throat and the room went silent. “While we are all here, this is a splendid time for a small ceremony.” A steward brought over a small case on this cue.
“Ensign DeVries- this is unusual but not without precedent. For numerous actions carried out in the best traditions of the Imperial Navy, you are hereby promoted to the rank of acting First Lieutenant, subject to your successful completion of your final cadet year.”
He opened the case and took out the badges of rank. “These were my bars - wear them well Miss.”
An Old-Earth Champagne was offered from an iridium tray, as the Admiral and Captain fitted Jenny’s new rank badges.
“I’m impressed,” said Wayne. “That is a vintage not often seen outside of Court.”
The Admiral gave a snort. “You know your wines- as a good rum-runner should- Captain Hendrick gave me a case when he handed over that orbital- claimed he got it from the station commandant’s larder.”
Wayne just chuckled and raised his glass. “You probably don’t even want to know the black market price. Here’s to Lieutenant DeVries- who when we meet at the academy will be ranking me.”
Jenny replied to the toast, “I believe you now have the challenge of catching up- and from what I hear, you usually catch your prize.”
Hamersley and Rodgers found this hilarious and even the stewards were trying to hide a grin or two.
Before we knew it, we had emptied a couple of bottles and it was time to board ship for the leg to Taupo. We all said our goodbyes, three of us knowing we would be back together in a matter of days.
“Now there goes one that might just be a match for you, Lieutenant,” said Captain Rodgers, with a champagne-induced twinkle in his eye.
“I will keep that thought in mind, Sir,” said Jenny. ‘Indeed I will.’ she thought to herself…
***
The next leg of the journey was to be the Corvette ‘Percales’ and promised to be more comfortable than our last transport. The skipper was a Lieutenant (JG) Davis, not long out of the academy. He welcomed us aboard personally and then left to take charge of getting under way.
These Corvettes were a dual-role, system patrol craft/armed courier vessels. Made to run down smugglers and pirates, they were relatively lightly armed and very fast, but of limited endurance needing a resupply after a few weeks in subspace, limiting them to about a 10 parsec hop- unless they were loaded up with the dreaded krats (a food-like substance, the name based on the mid-20th century K- rations). Nothing that a Frigate could not do, and better- but they were a fraction of the cost.
This one would have us at the Taupo orbital in twelve days.
Wasting no time, the subspace tractors were engaged before we had finished stowing even our meager possessions. Corvettes being what they are, it was as well that we traveled light- a ‘stateroom’ was about the size of an officers bathroom on ‘Wotan’s Fury’ and the showers and heads were communal- even for the skipper. We could see where the old stories of navy spacers with unclean habits being thrown to vacuum came from.
The Wardroom was almost as crowded, with three middies deadheading to Earth. They had completed their two-year combat tours and had now qualified for the academy- Carl and Andrea were much more comfortable in the larger crew’s facilities. The wardroom soon emptied as the XO- a colonial Ensign (attached) handed out assignment packs and sent the middies off to get studying.
“That will keep them from underfoot,” he said with a chuckle. “Now we can open the bar- self-serve here gentlemen.”
“I came prepared,” said Wayne, pulling a bottle of New Islay whiskey from his shipsuit.
Tom’s eyes widened “270 credits a bottle back on Helzin. That’s your idea of traveling light?”
“It’s Haverston’s,” Wayne said. “Always watch a man with leg pockets very carefully.”
Lieutenant Davis joined us just after we had the first round poured. His eyebrows raised at the sight of the bottle- “A promising start to this trip.”
“I grabbed it on the way out,” said Wayne. “I’m sure Carl managed to grab a few other passable bottles before we left- I told him to only bring the essentials.”
“If you had given him much more time, we would have needed a bigger transport.” said Tom. “He got the keys to the Officer’s Mess off me, so I don’t think we will be disappointed- unlike the remaining officers.”
“They will be all right- I distinctly heard the Duke say that the Emperor was buying- if they can’t figure out how to order some supplies in without the chief clerk or the QM- tough luck. In any case, they will be scattered off-planet in a few days,” said Wayne.
A knock at the hatch turned out to be Carl and a petty officer with several crates on a trolley. “Some supplies for the trip Sir.”
I opened one and took out two large bottles of rather passable Helzin Gin. “Captain, with your permission, my troops have promotions to toast.”
“Granted Sir- Imperial traditions allow for these occasions.”
Wayne passed the two bottles back to Carl “There you go Staff, it’s now officially sanctioned.” No doubt he had already put a few bottles aside for the occasion.
“Things are a bit looser on these small craft,” said Lt Davis. “On the larger ships you will find the old tradition of spirits for the officers and beer for the ratings still the norm. We mostly only have the bar open when in subspace, as well.”
“My old command was much the same,” said Wayne. “Contrary to what the entertainers would have you believe, privateers and even pirates all run very tight ships. We may have done a bit of rum–running but drank very little of it.”
“I didn’t realize that you had a ship's command,” said Lt Davis. “All that my brief mentioned was that you and your men were ground troops.”
“Lt Phillips and I got ourselves drafted into the local forces when they tried to grab my ship- they didn’t get ‘Fury’, though.”
The realization of exactly who his passengers were now dawned- and why there was such a hurry to get them out of the system.
“Well, Sir- I will need to reshuffle my training schedule for the flight. I was planning to give you a few introductory lectures on matters naval, but may I now impose on you to take a few classes.”
“I would be pleased to.”
Every naval and civilian vessel ran all manner of classes during the long drags through subspace. It kept the minds busy and productively occupied. In the 35th century, most academics were retired spacers who had spent most of their spare time shipboard studying. The larger capital ships even had their own universities- all staffed by petty officers.
This is a very different place to the 21st century.
The short hop was a welcome change to the frenzied pace of the months leading up to the raid. Tom and Wayne sang for their supper by giving talks on privateering operations, while Andrea and Carl gave presentations on the world of Helzin- its brief history, vast mineral wealth and life there before and during the civil war.
Everybody took turns working out in the ships tiny gym, did isometrics with the crew and trained at shipboard assaults with the section of marines. In the rest breaks, we continued to work our way through the crates of ‘supplies’ that Carl had fetched along.
***
Twelve days later, they were docked at the Taupo orbital and saying their farewells. It’s a peculiarity of service life that everybody gives farewells as if they are just popping out for a few moments and will be back shortly. The reality is that you will often never see the person again- or at least for many years.
Some things have changed little in the last 1500 years. One of them was airports- and orbital transit facilities were the same thing, at five times the price.
As soon as they had cleared customs-, a formality for passengers of a naval vessel- Wayne was at a public terminal arranging transport and accommodation down on Taupo, as they had a ten day wait until the next leg of the journey.
“Docking bay fourteen, troops- no luggage- three down and a quarter to spinward. I have got us a ride down with the local navy. Lets move- they drop in twelve minutes.”
This was only a small station, so we were on board the shuttle with five minutes to spare.
The pilot- a warrant officer- did not bother to see if his passengers were secure, he just called ‘freefall’ and decoupled from the bay. The shuttle drifted clear of the station for a minute, then a momentary push of the maneuvering jets took them out of the safety zone and he engaged the gravity drive.
“You folks have about ten minutes to make any calls groundside before we start getting a bit of hull ionization.”
“All taken care of, thanks,” said Wayne.
“It’s snowing down there,” said the co-pilot, looking significantly at our lightweight shipsuits.
“Appreciate the heads-up,” said Tom. “We already heard from a friend down there- he’s meeting us at the terminal with transport.”
“Where are you staying?” asked the pilot.
“Franz Josef Hotel.”
The pilot gave a low whistle. “The empire must be taxing us too much.”
“The empire pays the bill. Yeah, good one chief. No- I know the hotelier of the Franz and the cards have been kind to us.”
“Kind- friggin’ in love with you, more like. Tell Guiardio that Jack says hello.”
It occurred to Wayne and Tom at the same time. Their ex-head steward would be using these shuttles to smuggle in supplies he would rather not pay import duties on.
Half an hour later, they were at the port terminal, their only baggage a courier pouch with their orders. Guiardio had indeed arranged transport- a luxury groundcar, and had come along to greet us personally.
“Captain Jamieson- Lieutenant Phillips- This is a pleasure. May I enquire if your two companions are of the ‘Fury’s’ company?”
“A pleasure for us too, Guiardio- our two companions are to join our irregulars. We met after Tom and I got ourselves drafted on Helzin.”
“We have much to talk about then- perhaps dinner in your suite. I reserved you the Imperial suite, of course. As soon as we have your luggage…”
“No luggage, we shipped out in a hurry.”
“I see sir,” said Guiardio, raising his eyes. “Do you wish me to arrange clothing for your stay?”
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