The Unscheduled Mission (24 page)

“Aren’t you going to scold me for bringing Cousin?” Marisea asked hesitantly.

“Not this time,” Park decided. “She’s our ship’s mascot and the closest thing we have to a cat or dog.”

“A what?” Marisea asked.

“Later,” Park told her, sitting down on his chair. “We lift in fifteen minutes. Ship’s Cook, huh? Only because we don’t really have one. Is everyone on board?”

“Just closing the hatch now, Skipper,” Garnor Theens, the Mer comm. man replied. “Not much room to sleep down below, is there?”

“We have two very full ships,” Park replied. “But until we land on Luna the troops are just passengers. We should have enough bunks if they sleep in three shifts and those flight chairs are comfortable enough to nap in as well. As soon as everyone is seated, I want to taxi out to the runway. We have two ships launching this evening and there’s no need to waste time.”

“Aye aye, sir,” the Mer replied.

Defense
launched mere seconds behind
Phoenix Child
and the two ships traveled as twins all the way to Lunar orbit.

“Moon Base Lagina,” Park called over the comm., “You are ordered to surrender forthwith.”

“This is Governor Vextor,” came the reply. “What are your terms?”

“I’m not offering any terms,” Park growled. “You have been told that for days, but evidently you aren’t intelligent enough to understand. You Alliance big shots had your chance for terms and they were pretty generous ones at that, but all you’ve done is lie and murder. That’s over. This time we settle for nothing less than unconditional surrender.”

“Never!” Vextor shouted through the comm.

Just then there was the briefest flicker on the bridge and outside, the view jumped a little. “What was that?” Park asked his crew.

“Phaser at extreme long distance,” Iris replied. She was already flipping switches at her battle board.

“Take it out,” Park snapped.

“Done,” Iris replied. “Or will be in three, two, one…” on the screen there was a flash of light on the lunar surface followed by three others at various locations. “They may have more but those four were all I spotted.”

“Nice,” Park smiled. “Vextor, don’t try that stunt again or our next shots will be directly down your throat. It’s surrender or breath vacuum. Your choice, of course, but I imagine there are a few good men and women who don’t deserve to die because of your stupidity. This is Black Captain McArrgh. You wanted me? You got me.

“Now here is the way this is going to go,” Park continued. “I’m going to send down one of my ships and you will formally surrender to her captain. I’m going to stay up here and keep you in my sights. You take one wrong step and that base will be rubble when I am done. Capiche?”

“What does ‘capiche’ mean?” Vextor asked, confused.

“It means I’m the boss,” Park growled back, “and all you get to say is ‘Yes, sir!’ Remember, one wrong step and everyone dies.”

“You Pirate!” Vextor screamed.

“And don’t you forget it,” Park told him. There was laughter and cheering on the bridge, but Park cut them off and when he was certain the comm. link with the
 
Moon had been cut he gave his orders. “
Defense
, you stay up here. Hover over Lagina Base and if anything goes wrong… well you know what to do.”

“Aye aye, sir,”
Defense’s
captain replied.

“I thought we were staying up and they were going down,” Iris remarked.

“You didn’t think I was sending anyone into a situation I wouldn’t go into first, did you?” Park countered.

“I had wondered about that,” Iris admitted.

“They don’t know which ship I’m on,” Park chuckled grimly, “and I would never ask anyone to do this while I sit around safely hovering over that base.”

“We’re about sixty miles up,” Iris noted.

“Shouldn’t we be circling, uh, in orbit around the Moon?” someone asked. Park turned to see Tina’s assistant navigator had spoken. He recalled this was the man’s first trip beyond simple orbital runs.

“If this were an old Apollo craft, yes,” Park replied. “But we have continuous power on these ships. It seems wasteful to do it this way, but it’s the only way to give us overhead cover support. Well, enough of that, let’s go.”

They managed to land without incident, but the armed guards refused to let Park go into the base first. “Sorry, sir,” a large, burly Mer stopped him. “We already know these Galactics lie and cheat, and they fired on us when we demanded surrender. You let us go clear the way, please.”

Park did not like it, but he had to admit the man was right and when Cousin half floated down from the upper deck, using the ladder rungs just often enough to slow her already leisurely fall, Park got an idea. “Come here, Cousin. Let’s have some fun.”

On the bridge, Paul guided the ship neatly up to an airlock and a moving ramp, not entirely unlike an airport jetway, extended outward and docked with the ship. Once the docking maneuver was complete, they tested the air beyond the hatch and on finding it acceptable, opened the lock as a dozen guards, all in pressure suits, lined the airlock with their weapons drawn. There were about half their number of Alliance soldiers on the other side of the lock, but they surrendered immediately without firing a shot.

“Stay here, sir,” the captain of the Mer guards told him. “Let us clear the way for you.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Park replied.

“It is, sir,” he told Park firmly. “This ramp could be set to explode and the sudden decompression would kill everyone on the ship. We’ll make sure.”

“Very well,” Park agreed reluctantly as the twelve suited Mermen hop-stepped out and closed the airlock behind them. It was another fifteen minutes later as he sat, petting Cousin, that the area was finally cleared for his entry. “Any problems?” Park asked.

“No, sir,” the captain replied, “but it doesn’t hurt to make sure. Once beyond that ramp, any decompression would be suicidal on their parts.”

“Well, let’s go then,” Park replied.

One hundred armed Mer and Humans moved out ahead of Park and cleared the way. Inside the bases’s spaceport, several more Alliance marines, or so Park thought of them, quickly surrendered and one, their captain, was co-opted to show them the way to the Governor’s offices.”

“Will he be in the office?” Park asked the Alliance captain, whose name was Farmet Zinck. His skin seemed to be the same grey shade as Governor Vextor’s although his hair was brown and his vivid blue eyes looked normal to Park.

“His office is in the Governor’s quarters, sir,” Captain Farmet replied.

“Oh, thank you, Captain Zinck,” Park replied politely.

“Farmet is my surname, sir,” the captain replied. “Zinck is my given name.”

“Oh sorry,” Park apologized easily. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but aren’t your men surrendering rather easilly?”

“You called for our surrender, sir,” Farmet replied, “and you have us in a position where to continue fighting would be both fruitless and dishonorable.”

“It doesn’t seem to have stopped Vextor,” Park retorted.

“Governor Vextor has not responded well or honorably, sir,” Captain Farmet replied. “He has disgraced the Alliance.”

“Hmm, you sound like Dannet,” Park observed.

“Captain Nrenth, sir?” Farmet asked. “I know him. Spacers and Marines don’t usually mix, but he seems an okay sort.”

“I think so too,” Park replied.

“What is that you are carrying, sir?” Captain Farmet asked a long minute later.

“Her name is Cousin,” Park replied, stroking the hair on the back of Cousin’s head. “It’s an ancient word meaning ‘close relative.’ She appears to be a member of the order of primates as you and I are. She may even represent the last naturally existing primate species. If so, our sort has had a very long run in geological time.”

“She is a pet, sir?” Farmet asked, curiously.

“Yes, although a fairly intelligent one,” Park admitted. In his arms, Cousin crooned her happy noise.

“You brought a pet along on a mission of conquest?” Farmet pressed.

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time,” Park shrugged. He decided not to explain about comic book and movie villains and their frequent propensity to have a pet with them at all times.”

“The Governor’s quarters are through this airlock up ahead, sir,” Farmet pointed.

“He keeps himself isolated from the rest of you?” Park asked

“Most private quarters have their own air, sir,” Farmet explained. “Standard safety protocol on an airless world.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Park admitted. “This is my first time on Luna, but I think we used to build our lunar colonies modularly too.”

“Used to, sir?” Farmet asked. “When?”

“About two hundred and fifty million years ago,” Park replied. A random thought tried to estimate how many times he had said that phrase since he woke up in his stasis tube.

“Really?”

“I’m looking pretty good for my age, aren’t I?” Park chuckled.

Once again, at the Governor’s quarters, Park’s guards insisted on going first. This time their precautions turned out to be necessary and there were sounds of fighting from inside the warren for over half an hour. Finally, the Mer captain reported it was safe for Park to enter.

“Casualties, captain?” Park asked, not showing the trepidation he felt.

“I lost two good men, sir,” was the somber reply. “Another six are wounded. Mister Vextor,” he continued using the English term, “is waiting for you now.”

“I could stand to keep him waiting,” Park growled, “but it wouldn’t be fair to you and your men. Please see to their care, captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So not everyone surrenders honorably?” Park asked Farmet.

“These were not Marines, sir,” Captain Farmet replied. “They were Governor Vextor’s private guards.”

“Anyone else have private guards on this base?” Park asked grimly.

“Some political appointees have private bodyguards,” Farmet informed him, “but the governor is the only one who brought more than one.” Then he added, “ever.”

“I see,” Park nodded and continued to follow a small contingent of the Mer soldiers.

They finally came to the governor’s office where Vextor continued to sit behind his desk, although a Human medic was bandaging his right hand. “What happened here?” Park asked.

“Your savages tried to mutilate me,” Vextor half shouted, half whined.

“No such thing, sir,” the medic cut in. “He had a gun in his hand and was trying to take the easy way out. One of the Mers shot him in the hand to stop him is all. Damned good shot, if you ask me. If I had that sort of aim I would have just put it between his eyes.”

“And who the hell are you?” Vextor demanded of Park.

“Parker Holman,” he replied, “although I think you know me better as Captain McArrgh.”

“I thought you were staying in space,” Vextor told him, sounding betrayed.

“Yeah, I lied,” Park chuckled without mirth. “I’m not that cowardly. Now this time I will have your surrender.”

“As governor of Moon Base Lagina, I…” Vextor began, but Park cut him off.

“Wrong. You are no longer governor here. At the moment I am, if anyone is,” Park pointed out, “but you are empowered to speak for your fellow Galactics and you will surrender formally.”

“And if I refuse?” Even that defiance Vextor managed to sound like a whine.

“If I had your sense of honor,” Park pointed out, “I would have you executed and then tried for crimes against all Humanity. But I don’t actually need your surrender. The base is mine now whether you agree to it or not. All that means is I’ll have to secure the paroles of department heads one at a time, but once I have you placed in stocks in the public square, I doubt that will be hard to do.”

“Stocks, public square?” Vextor asked, confused by the English words his implants had obviously failed to translate.

“I will have you taken in chains and shown to the rest of the station,” Park explained. “It won’t hurt all that much, but it will demonstrate who is in charge.”

“You wouldn’t!” Vextor denied.

“We could cobble together a gallows instead,” the medic added, finishing his work on Vextor’s hand.

“No!” Vextor squeaked, evidently understanding that word.

“No,” Park shook his head. “We will not kill anyone we can keep alive.”

“You would deny me an honorable suicide?” Vextor demanded.

It was Captain Farmet who replied before Park could, “Honorable, you? Don’t make me laugh! And your world outlaws suicide and it is considered cowardly there.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Park cut in. “Regardless of where suicide is an honorable option, you are not in Alliance lands now. This is Terran territory and our laws rule here. Suicide is illegal here too and anyone who facilitates it is guilty of murder. And even if that were not the case, you are a prisoner of war, sir. There are rules as to how you are to be treated, but I will have your surrender immediately or else I’ll have you locked up and I’ll accept the surrenders of the rest of this base’s personnel, one at a time if need be. Now how do you want it?”

“This is not the end of this, you know,” the ex-governor told him coldly. “The Alliance of Confederated Worlds will never allow you to win. And next time we will send a fleet of planet destroyers if we must.”

Vextor finally gave in, however, and Park had him sign an electronic document of unconditional surrender. Finally,
Defense
could land and the rest of the occupation force could enter the base.

“Terius and I have decided to appoint Max Bains as our governor of Lagina Base,” Arn told Park over the comm. “He should be there in another two days.”

“Your assistant?” Park noted after the light-speed lag between Earth and Moon. “Suits me. I sure don’t want this job, not permanently anyway, although Cousin seems to like Lunar gravity. She can crawl on the ceilings up here. But I think we should rename the base. No one knows who that Georndi Lagina was anyway.”

“Holman base has a nice ring to it,” Arn mused.

“No, I was thinking of naming it after Michael Collins the astronaut,” Park told him.

“Who?” Arn asked.