Author's Note

This was originally written in 2010 to be the start of a series of nine stories. However, I took it down for editing after a few months and then the second 'trilogy' never really got off the ground. A couple of months ago I found the FarSight trilogy on an old flash drive and decided to edit it and see if it was worth republishing.

I've made several major changes to the original plot as well as the writing (I like to think I've improved in the 14 years since this was first put out there!) The second and third 'parts' to the original story are now combined under the title "FarSight".

Chapter 1

"Congratulations, James, it's about time your talents were recognised." Straker shook hands with the grey-haired officer who had been his superior for over ten years but a valued mentor for even longer.

"I think they just wanted to keep a closer eye on me, Ed. I've been pestering the JCS for months about their inadequate defence systems, and this is one way they can shut me up, or so they think." He grinned at the SHADO Commander. "What do they say; if you can't beat them, join them? I intend pestering them even more once I get inside their group."

"I'm sorry you'll be leaving the IAC, but if anyone deserves the promotion it's you. Any idea who's taking over?"

Henderson gave a brief shrug. "I didn't have much say in the matter; the chief of staff had the casting vote and ended up overriding everyone else. He wanted General Peter Fitzpatrick, USAF. Have you met him? Very experienced, worked with the IAC on several projects, good man if a little – " Another shrug. "Keen on the job, if you know what I mean. The chief of staff was adamant whoever got the post had to be another American, and he put Fitzpatrick's name forward as the only viable candidate. To be honest he wouldn't be my choice; I don't particularly like the man, but the obvious candidate isn't available yet." He looked askance at Straker.

"Obvious candidate? You mean me? Straker leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together. "I'd rather resign than…" He gave a tentative shrug. "You know what what I mean."

"End up behind this desk? Don't blame you, Ed. It's not the career move I was looking for. Always thought I'd be the one running SHADO but now, looking back, I think the best man got the job. Let's be realistic, I couldn't have done what you did, setting everything up from scratch. It needed a younger man at the helm, someone with the vision and energy to see it through to the end. And you did. To tell you the truth, I'm looking forward to a few easy years before my retirement. Or does that sound selfish?"

Straker shook his head. "No, General. You've given a lot to SHADO, much more than anyone expected. And you've done a good job, a damned good job and I wish you every success in the future. So, what can you tell me about Fitzpatrick?"

This late in the evening the IAC offices were closed, minimal staff on duty, the car park virtually empty. For one moment Straker thought he'd been given the wrong time, but Miss Ealand was too efficient to make such an error. The building looked empty and forlorn, the dim lighting in the reception area giving it an eerie feel. Two security guards were on duty in the reception area – a miserable job at the best of times – but the rest of the space was dark.

He shook his head at foolish thoughts, opened the car door, grabbed his briefcase and stepped out into the night. At least the rain had stopped, the sky clear for once. A good night for spotting UFO's though hopefully the clear skies would deter the invaders for a few nights. Anything for a break. The past two months had been horrendous, UFO incursions increasing week by week until they were at an all time high, and as a result the organisation was struggling to maintain any superiority over the enemy forces. He couldn't remember the last time he'd finished work on time, or had a day off. And he was not the only one.

The attacks were never-ending, the casualties increasing and it was only a matter of time before someone made an error of judgement and things ended in disaster. He shook his head. This was neither the time nor place for such thoughts.

One of the security men came across as he approached the entrance, a look of distrust on the unfamiliar face. The second man was watching, fingers twitching close to the handle of the pistol at his hip. "Name?"

"Straker." He held out his ID. "I have a meeting with General Fitzpatrick."

A cursory glance at the card, a more careful look at his face. "This way."

He made no comment. The lift was one of those small ones, metal walls, a mirror on one side to give the illusion of spaciousness, but it made the narrowness even worse. On other visits, he'd avoided the lift, citing the queue as a convenient excuse but now, in an empty building, he had no option but to follow the security guard. Fourth floor. It could have been worse, but even so he kept his eyes half-closed to blur the narrow confines of the small steel box.

A brief but uncomfortable journey. Barely twenty seconds later the lift came to a halt and the door slid open. He stepped out into the familiar corridor, lights brightening every surface, the sense of freedom and cool air. "Thank you. I can manage from here."

The guard nodded, stepped back. The lift doors closed, leaving him alone. For once, the wide passage was empty: no assistants bustling around, no background noise of computers and operating systems, even the air condition little more than a low hum. Henderson's office was at the end of the corridor, the door open as if waiting for him to enter. Had it been James inside, he would have walked straight in, but the man sitting behind the desk and fiddling with a pile of papers was an unknown, so he tapped on the door. "General Fitzpatrick? Ed Straker."

Fitzpatrick looked up. Straker's first impression was of gauntness, a sparse figure, pale skin, long fingers, uniform hanging loose on his frame. Illness perhaps or just his natural physique. A grimace flickered over the thin face, or perhaps it was weariness, then the general raised himself up and leaned forward, stretching out one arm. "Good to see you, Straker. We haven't met before, have we? Sorry to drag you out here so late at night, but I've been busy getting up to date on all Henderson's projects." A brisk shake of hands before he sank back into his chair. "Take a seat. Now, I've been going through your recent accounts and it seems we've been seriously underfunding SHADO. You must have had a hell of a struggle trying to keep things running considering your budget hasn't changed much for the last five years other than allowing for inflation. I intend doing something about that as soon as possible. But first…" Fitzpatrick leaned back in his chair, arms folded. "Tell me about FarSight. How long will it take to build, how much money will it take, and, the most important point, is it really necessary?"

"Let me show you, General." Straker opened his briefcase, pulled out the plans and spread them on the desk.

It was close to midnight when he took the lift down to Reception and was let out of the building by the same two men, but the lateness didn't matter. He'd won the battle for FarSight, even if the cost was more than he'd expected. He just hoped Alec Freeman agreed.

Straker added yet another annotation to the blueprint spread across the conference table. SHADO HQ was quiet for once, no incursions reported overnight, nothing in Moonbase's sensor, the Deep Space satellites silent. A rare chance to catch up on work. He straightened up, rolling his shoulders to ease stiffness from too little sleep, desperate to get the plans finalised while he had time.

"You look busy." Freeman was leaning against the door frame.

"Aren't I always? Close the door; I need a word."

"Sounds serious; something wrong? And why are you here so early – I thought you were on the late rota for the next few days? Jackson said something about sleep patterns and so on."

"Jackson fusses too much. Take a look at this." Straker slid one of the blueprints across to his friend. "What do you think?"

"FarSight?" Freeman looked at the paper. "Don't tell me. Our esteemed President told you to cut the budget by fifty percent."

Straker tossed a ruler onto the table. "No. He agreed to fund it. Completely." He grinned at his second-in-command.

"Fitzpatrick approved FarSight?" Freeman shook his head. "What did you do, Ed? Blackmail him?"

"That's the thing, Alec; I didn't do anything. He had the authorisation signed and waiting when I got there. I didn't even get chance to show him the revised budget. He agreed to the original expenditure and even allocated an additional fifty-seven billion for contingencies." Straker looked puzzled. "I expected a fight on my hands this time, but it was almost too easy."

"So what now? When does construction start?"

"Ah, well. About that. That why I wanted to talk to you." Straker pressed both hands flat on the table. "There's a catch. You're not going to like it, but it's the only way we can get the money."

"Sod it. I knew there'd be a fly in the ointment somewhere. What does Fitzpatrick want? Day trips to the Moon? Skydiver running pleasure cruises?"

Straker gave a quick grimace. "No, nothing as simple as that, I'm sorry to say. He wants a senior staff member to oversee the complete development of the base."

"Nothing wrong with that, surely. We do that with every new project."

"This is different – he insists on a senior member being on-site, not just the usual construction team leader. His actual words were: 'I want Alec Freeman on-site until the base is ready for operation.' which means you going out there and running things. You'll be responsible for site managing the project until it's completed, and you'll be expected to report back to him on a regular basis so he can justify his actions in approving the funding. It means we'll be short handed in HQ for the next six months – maybe even longer – but it's a price I'm willing to pay to get the tracking system. As long as you feel able to commit to the work." He looked across at the man he considered not only his second-in-command but also his closest friend. "It's a big responsibility, and we both know it won't be easy, but we need FarSight in operation as soon as possible."

Freeman was silent. "Six months on the other side? Maybe longer?"

"It isn't something either of us imagined, but we both know how important this complex is, if SHADO is to stand any chance of winning the war we're fighting. But." Straker looked at him. "I'm not going to order you to go, Alec. You can turn it down if it's too much."

"Turn it down? Don't be stupid, Ed – how long have we worked on those plans? Without FarSight there's no way we can expand our scope."

"I did my best to persuade Fitzpatrick to change his mind, or have the job on a rotation basis – you, Paul, Virginia – six weeks at a time, but he was adamant. You, and you alone, or no FarSight." Straker perched himself on the edge of the conference table. "Take a couple of weeks to think about it – I don't need your answer right now."

"No need. I'll do it. Without it we'll be fighting a losing battle in a couple of years, especially if things carry on like they have been recently." Freeman's lips twisted in a wry grimace. "Do me good anyway, six months away from the studio, all those actresses who fling themselves at me every day, the fame, the fortune, and, oh yes…" He winced. "Six months without a single drop of alcohol." He looked at his friend. "You couldn't change the rules on that could you? How about putting a small bar in the Launch Bay?" He leaned over the blueprints: six domes around the main Control Sphere, corridors radiating like spokes from the centre, another corridor linking the domes to each other like a wheel, an inner circular corridor provided additional access. It was similar to Moonbase, but more than double the size. "There's room here, next to the Moonmobile refuelling area."

"You can live without it for six months." Without Alec Freeman to help run SHADO, Straker wasn't sure he could manage for six months, but there was no way in hell he would admit to his concerns. "We'll talk about the logistics later, right now I have to get these plans finalised and I need your help."

A massive project, FarSight was the first base to be built on the far side of the Moon. Some people referred to it as the 'dark side' though that was a misnomer, but in many respects it deserved the name: out of direct radio contact to SHADO, cut off from everyday communications with its parent planet, and – worst of all – unable to see Earth. There would be no comforting blue and white marble rising in the darkness of space. There would be stars and so on. But Earth would be hidden. And until the extensive array of FarSight communications satellites had been placed in their protective orbit around the Moon, anyone working there would have with minimal contact with Earth or SHADO, restricted to the occasional comm bounced off small satellites or reliant on messages delivered via the next transport bringing supplies.

But the inconvenience would be worth the sacrifice. Straker and Freeman both knew FarSight station was only the start. The 'next stage' for the base included a telescope that would be built close by the monitoring station, a telescope that would enable SHADO to look far beyond the current reach of Hubble and Webb. A chance to see out into the depths of space and to watch. To learn, and maybe find out where their alien enemy was based.

Freeman pushed himself to his feet. "Then let's stop wasting time and get the detailed plans finalised before another alert comes in. Any idea how long it will be before Fitzgerald gives the go-ahead to start construction?"

Straker breathe out. "He already has – just the ground work so far, but it's going to take a month to get the regolith cleared and the first domes in place." He held up a hand. "Yes, I know. It's going to be one hell of a rush to get everything done, but the basic ground work is the same as we used for Moonbase, and we didn't have as many vehicles back then, or access to so many experts used to working in space."

"We lost some good men out there."

"We did. John Bosanquet, for one." Straker pinched the bridge of his nose. The damned headache had started this morning and didn't appear to be easing up. Too much coffee and not enough sleep.

"Bosanquet? Ah, yes; got lost on the surface. Had a daughter, Sarah – wasn't she…?"

"Under alien influence? Yes. Jackson brought her in and wiped her memory. Last report said she's doing all right, but security keep an eye on her, just in case." He still remembered Professor John Bosanquet, a brilliant geologist who helped choose the final site for Moonbase and disappeared without trace while investigating unusual radiation readings in a nearby crater. "But that was when we were just starting out. A lot's changed in the decade since – there's the infrastructure now and the training to build bases on the Moon, and Fitzpatrick is providing an experienced construction team, which means we don't have to worry about using our own workforce. There's no way we could spare the manpower to run Moonbase and build FarSight at the same time."

"So a month or so before I start packing?"

"No. That's the problem. Fitzpatrick wants you there by the start of next week, when the first teams start work. There'll be basic living accommodation in shelters until the first dome goes up, but it's not going to be a comfortable few weeks. Seriously, Alec. You can change your mind at any time. If I have to, I'll go out there myself and take over, but I don't know that running SHADO would be any easier."

"No. We both know you're needed here, Ed. I'll go. Just give me a few days to get things organised."

"You're sure?"

Freeman shrugged. "As much as I loathe the idea, it has to be done. No point in making a song and dance about it."

"Then I'll book you on the Friday shuttle. Moonbase is going to be the launch pad for all initial flights to FarSight until the new complex has its own shuttle pad in action. You'll have fifty k luggage allowance but that's for everything you might need for the first month, so be 'll be a fully equipped Medical Centre and basic facilities, but other than that, you'll be reliant on yourself." He looked at his second-in-command. "I wouldn't send you, Alec, if it wasn't so bloody important."

"I'll be fine, Ed, don't mind roughing it for a few weeks. Just hope things ease up here, while I'm away."

Straker picked up a pencil, rolling it in his fingers before dropping it again. "What worries me is how we'll manage if the attacks continue at their present rate. At the moment we need all senior staff available here. I can run HQ for a short time with just Paul and Virginia as back up, but it'll be a different matter with you out of the running for six months. But I'm placing all my bets on the attacks decreasing soon."

"I think you're right. They'll not be able to sustain this level of assault, for long, surely?"

Straker had no answer, if indeed there was an answer. Who knew why the aliens acted as they did, or when they might stop coming to Earth in search of humans. He shivered, though his office was warm enough. Too many deaths recently, too many close calls and near misses. The last few months had nearly brought him to the point of exhaustion with the struggle to keep the organisation running at peak efficiency despite serious underfunding for the last few years.

Not that Henderson had been at fault – any blame lay squarely at the feet of the IAC board with their refusal to see beyond the next year. SHADO's success was also its greatest enemy, every UFO shot down or blown up seen as a victory instead of the latest battle in an unending line of battles. And while one battle might be won, there might be a far greater one approaching, and one for which SHADO was not equipped. He had nightmares about UFOs attacking in great swathes from space, of motherships disgorging thousands of them straight into Earth's atmosphere, of aliens building underwater bases and attacking from the sea.

But if Fitzpatrick's willingness to fund FarSight meant Straker managing without Alec Freeman for a few months, then so be it. It would be hard though; not only was Alec an excellent second-in-command, friend and confidant, he was also a voice of reason amongst the grim details of attacks and incursions, bodies left mutilated, persons taken, homes destroyed. The one person Straker relied on to keep him sane and human.

Over the years the two of them had perfected a routine; after a difficult day Alec would come into the office and pour himself a whisky – the smallest amount, barely enough for a mouthful – ask Ed if he wanted a drink, and the banter would begin. There would be innocuous remarks about dependency on alcohol, about self-control, about the need to relax, and then Alec would firmly remind Ed that the SHADO Commander did not have to work all the hours God gave him, and after a reasonable amount of arguing, would succeed in sending Straker home.

It never failed to astound him that the simple act of Alec Freeman pouring himself a drink in Straker's office, made the commander pause and breathe and smile to himself, however bad things might have been. And on those days when Alec Freeman did not go into the office in search of a small whisky, then Straker would end up staying in his office, catching up on paperwork until the early hours of the morning, because there was no one telling him to stop work and go home.

He was going to miss Alec Freeman, but he would cope. He would have to remember to leave HQ at a reasonable time each day. And he would call Alec as often as possible to check on the progress of FarSight, but really to keep in touch with the one person in SHADO who understood what it was like to sit behind the desk.