Captain James Heron: First into the Fray

Prologue

The year is 2201, and a group of unscrupulous corporate conglomerates have been building a commercial empire away from the Earth and its governments. Under the guise of expanding human interests and seeking new sources for replenishing the increasingly scarce resources on the Earth, the Interplanetary Consortium has established itself as the umbrella under which a wide range of commercial and industrial enterprises operate among the scattered human colonies in the marginal governance of the World Treaty Organisation and its member governments.

The task of protecting their colonies has been devolved by the various Earth governments to a supra-national Space Fleet, the chief contributor to which is the North European Confederation, but the Consortium operates its own fleet of ships and maintains an armed force which they promote as being for security purposes alone, but which is tasked to keep the Consortium in a superior position no matter the cost and by any means necessary.

As is always the case, several key members of government are unaware (or choose to ignore) that the Consortium’s goals are not in alignment with the WTO and the NEC. Above their purportedly altruistic concerns for all living beings, alien and earthly, is their insatiable desire to profit from the resources they plunder. In this regard, the Consortium clash head on with the aims of the constituent governments to ensure the welfare and rights of their citizens.

And now, at this crucial moment in the twenty-third century, the Consortium is on a direct collision course with the WTO, and democracy itself is at stake.

Chapter 1

The Wrong Target

The planet looked like a jewel, a brilliant mix of sapphire blues, emerald shades of green and patches of golden yellows visible through the swirls of cloud. The planet was recently settled following the discovery that it had huge deposits of gold, platinum and a host of metals of extreme rarity on Earth or any other planets that humans had explored. There was, however, one small problem. The planet was—or had been—home to a highly developed lifeform, which the developers of the colonial outpost on that planet had failed to include in their reports, and had subsequently attempted to conceal. They would come to regret this decision.

Captain James Heron relunctantly pulled his gaze from the view of the planet and keyed his communications panel.

“New Helles Station, this is NECS Hermes. Prepare for inspection of your records and activities on the planet, please.” He glanced at the leader of the World Treaty Council’s inspection team. “The WTO Inspectors will be landing under escort as soon as we enter planetary orbit. My landing force will precede them.” He watched the two landing force platform ships manoeuvre into position. “The planet is now under the Jurisdiction of the WTO Fleet until the situation is settled by the Interplanetary Court of Justice.”

“Hermes, New Helles. Your message is received. We insist on seeing the court’s order in full before we permit any access to our systems.”

“You have already been served a copy by the court and their agents.” Captain Heron frowned. Someone was playing for time. There had to be a reason, and he intended to find out why. To his Scan Officer he said, “Scan for any unusual signals or movements. They’re up to something.” He keyed his coms pad again. “Our copy of the order has been sent to you. Your system acknowledges receipt.”

“We have it.” The voice sounded surly. “We’re awaiting your inspectors.”

“Sir.” The Scan Officer drew his commander’s attention. “There’s a small vessel—looks like a yacht—attempting to keep the moon between us and itself.”

“Send the coordinates to Danebrog. Tell her to intercept and inspect. If they attempt to transit, pursue and arrest.”

“Acknowledged, sir.”

The Captain listened as the reports came in from his landing teams and the boarders. He watched the frigate Danebrog, which first appeared as a distant bright object, emerge from behind the planet’s large moon with a smaller vessel in company.

“The yacht Moonraker, Hermes. Registered to the League for the Protection of Sentient Life, one of the many tentacles of the Consortium.” The frigate’s captain chuckled, and his words fairly dripped with sarcasm. “Not very pleased with us, and nor is their passenger, the esteemed Director of Interplanetary Mining Corporation. He’s very upset that we found all the data he was trying to remove.”

“I expect so, Hans. Well done.” Captain Heron smiled. “The LPSL aiding and abetting someone responsible for the extermination of at least one sentient species? Now there’s an interesting little twist. Usually they take extreme measures to protect all living creatures, even when it’s dangerous and foolish to do so. They must be trying to hide something from the rest of us. Bring them in, please, and remove everyone from the yacht. Put a prize crew on her, and we’ll take her back to Earth with us.”

Ari Khamenei, current Chairman of the Interplanetary Consortium, a vast, sprawling operation holding controlling interests in a wide range of companies and corporations, and not a few Earth governments through a web of lobbyists, could barely contain his fury. “Find out who betrayed our operation on New Helles! Find out, and have whoever it is removed!” He struggled to control his rage. “This has cost us trillions! Trillions!” He forced himself to sit. “Engage the Pantheon. I don’t care how much it costs, but I want the scientist who reported these aliens as sentient beings removed. Then I want to talk to the fool who allowed the Fleet Task Group to capture him with all the evidence eliminated.”

The Consortium’s Director of Security raised a skeptical eyebrow. “The Pantheon, Chairman? Are you sure?” As soon as he challenged his boss, he regretted it. The visceral glare he received in reply was enough to knock him down a few pegs. “Sorry, Chairman, of course. I’ll make contact immediately. The report that exposed us was written by a Dr Nazirim Tanha, a xenobiologist with the Xenographic Research Establishment, now a subsidiary of the Johnstone group, a member of Dr Veronique Heron’s team.”

“Heron? Is she a relative of the Captain of the Fleet Task Group?”

“She’s his wife, sir.” The Director could feel the sweat prickling his spine and elsewhere.

“It would be such a shame if she were to meet an unfortunate accident alongside this Tanha fellow.” The Chairman’s smile sent a chill through the Director. “Most unfortunate.”

“Yes, Chairman.” The Director paused. “I’ll contact the Pantheon.”

“Do so. Oh, and send the LPSL a large donation—anonymous, of course. Ashworth knows how to source it to cover our tracks, and how to word the message that accompanies it.”

James Heron smiled as he emerged from the bathroom. “Are you sure you have to rush off to that lab of yours, my love?” He slipped his arms round his half-dressed wife and kissed her neck then gazed at her lovely reflection in the mirror as she put on her earrings. The last six weeks had been perfect. Between his career as an officer of the World Treaty Interstellar Fleet, and hers as a top xenobioloist, an expert in analysing and classifying new life forms, they seemed to spend more time lightyears apart than together. “I’ve got another three weeks leave before I have to report for my Course. Might as well enjoy this a bit longer ….”

“James!” She teased. “And have me miss the opportunity of a lifetime? These creatures on Serengetia are an unknown genus, but they are very squid-like in appearance, so the researchers who discovered it named it Teuthida, which is Latin for squid.” Her eyes practically glowed with excitement as she met his gaze in the mirror. “They’re absolutely fascinating beasts, and deadly if the initial reports are to be believed. Their venom is a toxin unlike anything we’ve ever studied before with a unique method of delivery.” She twisted in his arms to face him. “I know what you’re thinking, but I can help it if I’m a science nerd. I love it! We’ve only just started the research on the Teuthida, and I don’t want to miss it. This is a rare opportunity that comes along once in a lifetime—just like you!—but I’ll always have you.” She kissed him and eased out of his embrace. “Now get dressed so we can have breakfast together before my transport gets here.”

James took the diplomatic approach. “Veronique, I know this is a big chance for you, but the reports I’ve heard of these Teuthida creatures suggest they’re more toxic than anything we’ve encountered anywhere, and you’ve told me several times that you’re worried about the changes the new owners are demanding to your procedures. They can afford to be careless in their directions because they’re not the ones dealing with these deadly beasts up close and personal.”

“Well, everything we do is dangerous when you get right down to it, like you taking your ship into unknown and uncharted galaxies far, far away.” She finished dressing and shook out her long hair. “Don’t worry, our management at Xenographic Research have held out for retaining our own systems, and I always double check my protection when dealing with unknown life forms.”

“I know you do, love, but the people who’ve bought control of XRE are connected to some of the firms involved in disputes with the colonies.” He pulled on his shoes. “It’s also connected to the League for the Protection of Sentient Life, and you know who they’re aligned with—the enemy of the Fleet, to put it bluntly.”

Veronique nodded. “I know, and don’t think I’m not worried about it. I hear the same investment company is involved with Johnson XenoBioTech – and I’m not terribly happy about that connection.”

“Just watch yourself, love.” James Heron held the chair for his wife. “Coffee, please, Herbert, and my usual breakfast,” he told the android butler, an old unit inherited from his parents with the ancient house at Scrabo Farm in County Down, Ireland. “That stuff your colleague Dr Tanha exposed on New Helles—the illegal exploitation of the mineral lakes that wiped out the creatures living in them—has upset some people who are wretched to deal with at the best of times and deadly when they’re provoked.”

Veronique buttered a slice of toast. “I know, love. There’s a rumour he’s had to get a protection team. Someone took a contract on him.” She hesitated. “If it makes you feel any better, I think this will be my last field trip.” She chuckled at his raised eyebrows.

“What brought on this decision?” James asked. “Not that I’m not happy to hear it.”

“Oh, I have some very good, sound, biological reasons to step away from work for a year, at least, maybe longer ....”

His fork stopped in mid-air, something he never did because of his excellent table manners, as the sudden realisation of her enigmatic response penetrated his thoughts. “You’re pregnant?!”

“It’s a bit early to be sure, but yes … I think I am!” She grinned. “I promise I won’t take any chances.”

“The informant will be joining Dr Veronique Heron’s team in a few days. He is currently escorted by a team of ex-Fleet security operatives.” The speaker disguised himself by using a holographic avatar of Seth, the Egyptian god of the Dead, as was the practice of the members of the Pantheon to remain anonymous even among themselves. “A direct strike is inadvisable in the circumstances, but it will be possible to arrange an accident. She and her team are currently examining the most venomous of the Serengetia creatures, the Teuthida.”

“Ah, yes, a good solution,” said the listener, a deceptively slim man who used the pseudonym Heimdall. As with all the titled members of the Pantheon, he was extremely well-connected and wealthy outside of his regular employment. “It certainly presents favorable opportunities.”

“Indeed. The client does not want to attract attention, so an unfortunate accident—one that can be proved as such—serves their purposes very well.” Seth paused. “The client wishes the chief witness in the forthcoming court case over New Helles removed. Doing so will warn any other witnesses that giving evidence on the unfortunate extinction of the sapient species on New Helles woud be an unwise move.”

“Quite so.” Heimdall smiled. This was, after all, his forté. He specialised in providing the protection their research laboratories needed when examining alien life forms. He couldn’t resist a little joke with a reference to Norse mythology. “I shall arrange for the target to encounter a guardian creature of Asgard in Midgard.”

Seth inclined his head. “I’ll leave it to you to make that arrangement. The usual arrangements will be made for your fee.” His avatar vanished.

For several seconds Heimdall remained motionless, his thoughts on how he intended to kill his target. It was almost too easy, as the Teuthida were incredibly fast despite their lack of a rigid skeleton. Their poison was unlike anything humanity had yet encountered and fatal within seconds. That these creatures were also highly intelligent, extremely aggressive and the top predator on their planet made them the perfect weapon for the assasination he planned.

Rising from his chair, he made for the observation room that overlooked the main holding area for the specimens. He needed to do a little research of his own.

“Evening, Doctor,” the attractive technician greeted him. “Come to see feeding time?”

“I’ve timed it well then. What do you feed them?”

“A mixture we’ve synthesized based on their diet on Serengetia. We have to do it remotely and use those triple interlocks you installed. One of the damned things managed to work its way into the output tube of the replication unit!”

“That far in? Hmm, I will get someone to look into that.” He smiled. “We don’t want one getting out.”

James Heron jerked awake. The dream had been incredibly vivid, the galloping horse so real he could almost smell the perspiration on its flanks. The detail sprang sharply into focus as he swung his legs off the berth. The great white stallion was a dream that visited certain members of his family and had done for generations if family legend was true. It foretold danger and sometimes death for a close family member.

“Lights,” he ordered. He frowned as he recalled the dream. The horse had been in full gallop, saddled and bridled, with the reins trailing as it hurled itself across a strange landscape. He’d not seen it in his dreams like this before. Saddled and bridled, yes, when his parents were dying, but never in this wild gallop as if it were pursued by some unseen predator.

He checked the time and reached for his commlink. “Where is Veronique now?” he asked his image in the mirror. He entered his passcode ID and activated their private trace.

“Your wife is currently in the XRE Laboratories on Tobit, the moon orbiting Serengetia, Captain.”

“Damn.” He hesitated then used his link. “Get me a hyperlink connection to Dr Veronique Heron please. Immediate. Top priority.” With luck he could persuade her to get the hell away from the lab and away from that planet immediately. Sleep was now impossible, so he set to work preparing his course exercise for the coming day. Damn, why couldn’t the coms system put him in touch with her? Was it already too late?

Veronique Heron studied the results of her latest analysis again. These creatures were far stranger than anyone had realised. Their toxin was easily the most complex she’d ever seen, and their biology was even more bizarre. She reached for a report from the examination team and frowned. What they reported should be impossible, yet they had the record to support their findings. The creature could stiffen its tentacles and use them as legs. It could run at speeds and jump to heights that easily outpaced even the most athletic human.

“Are you sure of these results, Russ?” she asked her assistant. “This thing can administer the toxin by simple touch? No penetration? No bite?”

“We’ve not found any sort of stinger or fangs, Veronique. As soon as it touches the target prey, that’s it. Done and dead.”

She stared at her analysis of the poison again. “Damn, I wish Dr Tanha would get here. We need his expertise on poison delivery systems.” She stood, stretched, and found herself looking at one of the creatures through the thick armoured glass screen. Against all possibility the creature stared back. The glass was one direction only, or at least it should be. The creature should see nothing but a blank wall. “Russ? Look at this. Just stand next to me and tell me what you see.”

He joined her at the screen. “What am I supposed to be looking for? Oh, wow, that’s creepy. It’s looking at us, watching us, but that’s not possible … is it?”

“If its eyes function as ours do, it can’t see us, but maybe we’ve just discovered something about these creatures.” She waved her tablet at arm’s length. They both watched as the malevolent eyes followed the movement, then snapped back to make direct eye contact with them.

“Okay, now we really have something unusual.” Veronique turned as the door opened and the lab protection supervisor entered. “Dr Jorgen, I’m glad you’re here. I think we have a problem. Our subject appears to be watching us. I thought the screen was completely opaque from that side.”

“It is.” He joined Veronique to study the creature in its enclosure. “Yes, I see what you mean.” He frowned. “I’ll have to look into this. What wavelengths does it see?”

“As far as we’re able to determine, essentially the same as the human eye.” Veronique felt a shiver. “I think my team need to get onto this, Dr Jorgen. Clearly we’re missing something in our assessment of this creature.” Her link chirped. “Damn. I have to run. I’ve a hyperlink call coming in. Russ, set up a team session for the morning. Include Naz if he gets here in time.”

“No, James! No! This is the most amazing project! I won’t drop everything and leave it to everyone else to get the credit.” Veronique saw the expression on her husband’s face. “I know you’re worried, my love, but we’re perfectly safe. The lab has so many protection systems it’s almost impossible to work, and I won’t go planet side.”

“I’m worried that you’ve got a live one of these creatures anywhere near you.” James Heron tried to drop his command tone as he continued. “You know what happened to the original exploration team. One of these damned squid beasts got into their autonomous survey vehicle, and when they recovered the vehicle, it was—