If many had been able to receive, they hadn’t come. But Chase assumed very few people still had homes, and those that did could not pick up signals. He had assigned several of the security team to go from street to street, rounding up whoever they could. Several more drones were to patrol the town, broadcasting the message over loudspeakers. A few other shuttles were repeating this in the other largest settlements, although Montgomerie was a factor of magnitude larger than the next down the list combined.
Despite the flight, the landing itself was rather smooth, and the rear hatch automatically descended. Chase was the first to step off. The ground was dry beneath his feet. Hemera had Atlantic weather, often overcast if not raining. His standard-issue boots would normally come back caked in mud from the damp ground, with only the major city streets paved. Today however, it was sweltering.
“So, this is normal,” Chase said, wiping his brow. Lt Winter looked at him in a way that just implied, “Obviously not.”
He walked away from the shuttle. The main customs building that he usually had business with was now just a pile of rubble. He couldn’t see anyone in the immediate area.
“Damn, where is everyone?” Chase asked.
“It looks like there are around two hundred people a quarter of a mile from here, sir,” Winter reported.
“Well then, we’ll head that way,” Chase said, ordering the rest of the security team to guard the shuttle and the pilot to keep it prepped for takeoff at short notice.
The Port Montgomery town hall was built like an ancient Scottish cottage with a thatch roof and walls that looked as if they were constructed out of mud. In actuality, it was a pretty standard prefabricated structure, with the stylistic choices added on as an afterthought. The doors were shut but not locked, and Chase found them gathered around listening to someone give a speech. He was an older man in his early 60s with grey thinning hair and a neatly trimmed beard in a conventional business suit. It wasn’t someone Chase had ever dealt with directly, but he was more than familiar with the deputy-mayor of Montgomery, and his reputation preceded him. Chase cleared his throat to be noticed.
They had the attention of the entire hall. Chase had never really been one for public speaking, but could do it when required.
“My name is Lieutenant Commander Nathan Chase of the starship Nelson,” he called out, projecting his voice as much as possible.,” We evacuate as much of you as possible,” he said.
The people gathered in the hall responded with surprisingly mixed emotions. They were of all ages, men, women, children, young and old, families huddling together, others standing by themselves, looking lost.
“We don’t want to go!” a voice bellowed. The man was familiar, yet Chase couldn’t quite place where he knew him from. Lt Winter stepped up and whispered in his ear, “That’s the deputy mayor, James Eriksson.”
“It’s your fault that this happened! The Navy was supposed to protect us from exactly this sort of thing!” Eriksson yelled.
“Respectfully, Mr Eriksson, that’s what we’re here to do now,” Chase explained. “The colony was the target of a precision strike by unknown forces from outside the system. It was an unforeseen attack.” He started walking across the hall, people stepping aside to allow him through.
Eriksson stood on a small, raised stage, speaking into a microphone. As Chase got closer, he grew more and more theatrical in his wild expectations of exactly what should have been done by the Cluster Navy.
“Mr Eriksson, a word,” Chase asked, as politely as he could muster. Eriksson ignored him and continued talking to the assembled crowd.
“What good is it you coming here now, after the fact?”
Chase gave a nod to Winter, who, along with several others of their team, made a step toward the stage. Eriksson’s bluster was quickly gone, and he seemed more than happy with a private conversation with Eriksson.
“You’re the deputy mayor here, is that correct?” Chase asked him. Eriksson’s eyes seemed wide; He was almost manic. “I mean, I was until this happened. Now I am the highest authority in the land. That leaves me as Hemera’s head of state, and you will show me all due respect and courtesy. That title also invokes diplomatic immunity!”
Chase stepped back for a moment to let this sink in. Winter had overheard all of it and had made a concerted effort not to chuckle.
“The Port Montgomery Mayor is the highest office on the planet, unofficially he oversees the other settlements but was never strictly speaking a ruler,” replied Chase. “I mean, as you know, it’s more sheep than people, and they didn’t even bother sending a governor. And the diplomatic immunity definitely wouldn’t apply.”
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Eriksson looked fit to burst.
“Mr Eriksson, I appreciate you have taken on extra responsibilities. What you’re asking…” Chase said.
Eriksson’s face turned a bright shade of fuchsia.
“How dare you! I am the Governor-General!” Eriksson yelled.
Is he just making these titles up now? thought Chase as he took a moment to take that on board, before saying, “No, Mr Eriksson, you are the deputy mayor of a small backwater settlement during a state of emergency. The limited powers that offers you are superseded, because I, as an officer in the Alpha Persei Cluster Navy, have a wide-ranging set of authorities in circumstances such as these.”
“It’s a military coup!” Eriksson yelled. There were various gasps and shrieks from the assembled crowd.
“Please, see reason and calm down,” said Chase. “That’s not the case at all.”
“They’ve got guns!” yelled Eriksson.
“Of course, we’ve got guns,” said Lt Winter
“We’re the military in an emergency zone,” Chase said, aghast. He walked over to the microphone on stage and addressed the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m truly sorry for what happened here. We have a dozen ships in orbit. We’re not in a position to get everyone out of here. I apologise for the mistake. However, we do have room for everyone in this hall. So, anyone who wants to leave, please make your way to the main port where my shuttle is waiting.”
“And what if they don’t want to go?” yelled Eriksson.
“No one is going to make you leave,” said Chase.”
***
Heading down to a narrow road, the team helped people walk the small trek to the main port. It was a street Chase had walked down at least half a dozen times in the last two years. The endless supply runs for livestock and farm supplies seemed trivial now, and he found a strange sense of guilt for ever considering them boring or unimportant.
The shuttle could ferry people up to the waiting ships with cargo bays that were large enough to temporarily hold several hundred people at a time. They were then moved to the various ships of the flotilla.
The final group of evacuees was getting on board the shuttle when Eriksson arrived.
“Good to see you’ve seen sense, Mr Eriksson,” Chase said in the friendliest voice he could. He had no love for the man, but he didn’t want to see anyone stay on this planet in the state it was currently in.
The deputy mayor looked agitated; he was fumbling with something in his jacket pocket. Despite the heat, he was wearing a large overcoat.
“I’m not going!” Eriksson yelled, and he pulled out something. Chase tried to make out what it could be.
Oh shit.
“Grenade. Get down!”
Instinctively, Chase leapt at him, sending him to the ground. The grenade fell to the floor, and Winter, who was right behind Chase, grabbed it and threw away from the waiting crowd.
The explosion was loud enough to make people cry out in shock. It was certainly the last thing these people would have wanted after everything they had just been through. Luckily, it wasn’t worse.
Winter stepped in behind Eriksson, grabbing his wrists behind his back. Chase stepped over to Eriksson. “You are hereby placed under arrest and will be reviewed before a military tribunal as soon as one can be arranged,” Chase informed him.
As Winter pulled the cuffs from her clip. Eriksson forced his elbow into her stomach for a split second before she was forced back. The deputy-mayor reached into his coat. Chase wasted no time waiting to see if this was another grenade. Instead grabbing his sidearm and unloading a burst of energy straight at him. He’d been aiming straight between the eyes. It hit the side of his forehead and he went straight down with a thud. A burst of smoke coming off the darkened point of impact. Remorse? None came.
There was the mechanical groan of the nearest shuttle’s cargo doors closing up. Chase turned and walked towards the shuttle as Winter dealt with the mess he’d made.
As the door closed, he saw there were still mostly empty seats and ten or so people waiting to board. They had been waiting calmly, but a woman third in line made a run for the closing hatch and just made it through with seconds to spare.
The rest of the queue had scattered in all directions, pushing their way into the lines for the other waiting ships. Chase knew he had to get things under control, and fast.
“What’s happening?” Chase yelled to the pilot in the shuttle’s open cockpit.
“New orders from the Captain,” the pilot told him. Chase climbed the ladder, sitting in the co-pilots chair and read the text on the screen.
“There are more missiles inbound. We’re evacuating immediately,” the pilot confirmed.