Table of Contents
Sierra Bravo
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
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Publication Details
The Hal Spacejock Series
The Mysteries in Metal series
The Secret War series
The Harriet Walsh series
The Robot vs Dragons trilogy
The Hal Junior Series
How to Write a Novel
Short Fiction by Simon Haynes
Copyright
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Sierra Bravo
Book 3 in the Harriet Walsh series
Copyright © Simon Haynes 2018
Release v 1.05
Bowman Press
Written and published using yWriter by Spacejock Software
Stock images © depositphotos.com
3D models © cgtrader.com
This novel, like the author, employs British spelling.
Chapter 1
"That comes to twenty-five eighty," said Arthur Rose, as he finished running the shopping over the scanner.
His customer frowned. "Why is it more expensive every time I come in?"
Arthur sighed. "I've had trouble getting a few items, Mrs Timms. You know how it is, we're a bit of a backwater and freighter pilots charge whatever they can get away with." He'd had the same complaint from half a dozen customers already, but what could he do? He wasn't running a charity, but sometimes it felt like it.
Mrs Timms, his elderly customer, shook her head. "You don't know how to barter. Tell 'em you'll pay half next time, and they'll be lucky to get that much."
"They have to pay for fuel," said Arthur gently. "It can't be cheap, running a ship all over space."
"Those greedy cargo pilots wouldn't have dared to pull their little tricks when the Peace Force was running this town."
"That was years ago, Mrs Timms." More years than Arthur cared to remember, truth be told. After the Chirless branch of the Peace Force closed down, most of the older officers had taken early retirement. Some of them had got bored with the inactivity and opened little corner shops, just like Arthur's. It was hardly heart-racing excitement, but at least it gave them something to do.
"Once a copper, always a copper," said the old lady firmly.
Arthur opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the front door swept open, and he frowned as he saw the newcomers. There were two men, both in their mid-twenties, and they had the kind of hardened expressions that usually featured on wanted posters.
The men stopped to browse a rack of fresh food, but Arthur could see them watching him out the corner of their eyes. He could smell the danger, and his instincts were screaming warnings. Were they going to hold the place up? If so, he'd have no chance against two of them, not at his age. Thinking quickly, he took a flyer and scribbled on the back. "Here's a coupon for your next shop," he said, giving Mrs Timms a quick smile. "Don't forget to tell all your old friends. This place could really use their help right about now."
"If you lowered your prices you wouldn't need coupons," sniffed Mrs Timms. She peered at the writing and tutted. "You really are desperate, aren't you?" she said, studying him with her shrewd grey eyes.
It was a gaze Arthur knew all too well, having been arrested by Captain Timms any number of times before she finally convinced him to mend his ways.
"Very well," she said. "You can rely on me. I'll spread the word." With that, she tucked the flyer away and left, without so much as a glance at the interlopers.
Then the front door closed, leaving Arthur alone with the two men.
— ♦ —
"Yes, of course it's a serious matter. Rest assured I'll put my best people onto it right away. Thanks for calling the Peace Force." Harriet hung up and glanced across the office. Alice, her younger sister, was sitting at a terminal nearby, where she was supposed to be studying for one of Bernie's Peace Force tests. Even from this distance, Harriet could see Alice was looking at pictures of space ships. And not just any ship, they were shots of the same kind of deep space fighter currently parked on the roof of their building. "Trainee Alice!" shouted Harriet.
Alice jumped. "Don't do that!" she protested, hurriedly swiping the images off her screen. "Can't you see I'm studying?"
"I know exactly what you're studying," growled Harriet. "You're lucky Bernie didn't see, or she'd kick you straight out of the Peace Force."
"Don't be daft. Bernie adores me."
"Oh really? So why does she spend all day in the charger, if it's not to avoid you?"
"That's easy. Her batteries are stuffed." Alice frowned. "What's with the yelling, anyway?"
Harriet remembered the call. "I've just been chewed out by some eagle-eyed resident. They spotted Rover flying around last night, and he was so low they couldn't hear themselves think."
"Okay. First, that's a ridiculous name for a ship. Second, everyone on Dismolle is about a hundred years old, and the only way they'd spot a ship at night is with a bionic eye. And third … Rover … um … hasn't been flying anywhere. He's, er, out of fuel."
"Alice!"
"What?"
"Bernie won't even spring for a few sheets of printer paper. She's never going to pay to refuel Rover." Harriet felt a flash of anger. What was Alice thinking, taking the ship out for joyrides over the city? Bernie would get so angry she might blow up, and given the size of the huge robot the explosion could level the Peace Force building.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Speaking of trouble," muttered Alice.
"That's no way to talk about your superior officer," said Harriet, with a frown.
The thuds grew louder, and a big blue robot strode into the office. Bernie was two metres tall and at least a metre and a half wide. She had an eyeplate where her eyes should have been, and a very human-looking mouth, which was currently set into a firm line. Harriet realised Alice was right about
