Junkyard Dogs series Omnibus

by Phillip Nolte

  "Program the microjump to the rendezvous point, Captain," said the Sheik. "It is time to begin our preparations for the final victory which will give us complete control of the Santana Quadrant!"

  "As you wish, my Sheik," replied the Captain.

  ***

  Two and half hours later the Sheik made his way down the main corridor to the conference room onboard his aging but still very opulent yacht. The Captains of all five of the ships of his Strike Force were gathered, along with the beautiful and deadly Fahada and the leader of his small and fanatical band of Marines.

  "We jump to the new Ceylon System tomorrow morning," he announced, "and we attack the forces in that accursed junkyard soon after. Our intelligence tells us the system is poorly defended. All of you know Jubayr, the head engineer on my yacht and now of the Skorpios, he will brief you on what to expect."

  "As far as we know," began the young engineer, "they have only one armed vessel and it is a very old Bombardier cargo ship."

  At this point he brought up a video clip from one of the gun cameras on the Skorpios taken during the second of her altercations with the armed cargo ship. The clip showed an ancient and battered tramp freighter with a low-profile, twin pulse beam turret grafted onto her top surface.

  "We do not know exactly what they have done to her but, based on the performance we observed during two encounters between this ship and the Skorpios, they have most likely replaced the power and drive units with military grade hardware. She has also been armed."

  Once again the engineer couldn't hide a hint of admiration as he pointed to and described the transplanted weapon.

  "The weapon they have mounted on the ship is a twin mount Bofors rapid fire unit. This weapon is really quite dangerous and repeated hits from it can severely stress shields or cause damage, even to our three destroyers. Those of you in any of our support ships and on this yacht should be careful to keep your distance until we have destroyed or disabled this ship which, of course, will have to be one of our first priorities. Captain Noori of the Skorpios will have the responsibility of locating and engaging this ship."

  "Are there any other ships we need to be concerned about?" asked the Captain of the Perseus.

  "There is another freighter, a Mark V Cargomaster from the Kiwi system but it has not been modified in any way that we know of. We would like to capture that ship intact if possible."

  "Tell us about the Ambassador's ship, Captain Hassad," said the Sheik.

  "The Istanbul is a modern military unit based on a Meridian Cutlass class cruiser that was converted to a diplomatic ship before they finished building her. According to our latest information, she does not have any weapons mounted either. The ship still retains the same drive systems and other hardware of the Cutlass class and therefore has the shielding and armor of a heavy cruiser. The main batteries of our destroyers are capable of penetrating the shields of this ship eventually but doing so will require repeated pulse strikes and a coordinated attack. With the modified cargo ship out of the fight, it should be, however, only a matter of time before we force her to surrender. Naturally we want to take Ambassador Saladin alive but as a last resort, we can destroy the ship. With the number of diplomats and other noncombatants on board, I expect them to surrender long before the ship would be destroyed."

  "What about other forces?" someone asked.

  "There is reportedly a small contingent of Federation Marines," replied Fahada. "They could prove to be quite formidable, all are of Spacer origin and they are probably equipped with some of the ancient battle armor that the defenders acquired when Ezra Brimstone and his group attempted to capture the system a couple of months ago."

  "I apologize that we do not have more information on the Marine contingent," said the Sheik. "Our informant on the Istanbul has only seen them once or twice as they have generally been kept busy on one of the two cargo ships or working out in the Scrapyard on various projects."

  The Sheik wrapped up the briefing, "As I see it, we should have little difficulty taking over the Scrapyard and capturing or destroying the meager defenses. As many of you know, the Meridian Prime Minister has surrendered. With Ambassador Saladin dead or captured, we will have eliminated much of the opposition and will be able to assume control of the Meridian government and thus make headway towards our eventual goal of taking over the Islamic Alliance. From there we should have little trouble consolidating our control over the entire quadrant. This is our goal and our destiny!"

  The entire assemblage came to their feet and shouted with the Sheik, "Long live the revolution!"

  Chapter 54.

  UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary Ship Greyhound, December 15, 2598.

  "All Command Staff are to report to the bridge immediately! A ship has just come in through the Whitney jump zone! Preliminary long-range scans indicate that it is an Islamic Alliance destroyer. This ship has not responded to our hails and is therefore considered to be hostile!"

  Small tasks were left undone and meals abandoned as the summoned personnel dropped whatever it was they were doing and double-timed it to the bridge.

  ***

  The command crew on the bridge of the Greyhound monitored the unidentified destroyer for nearly two hours before there was any additional activity. During that time, the enemy ship had ventured no further into the system, remaining in the near vicinity of the hyperlink point, presumably to perform last minute, long range reconnaissance before the main body of the enemy force arrived. Sure enough, after the ship had been in the system for a full two hours, the hyperlink point literally came alive with repeated ship transports. CPO Jenkins counted five additional vessels before the activity ceased. With the information that had no doubt been collected by the destroyer before the remainder of the force came through, Kresge was convinced that the entire force would probably be on the move after a short delay to share the latest intelligence and finalize the plan of attack.

  "Carlisle, Harris come with me to my ready room," said Kresge. "Right away, if you please, I don't think we have much time."

  The two younger officers left their respective stations and followed the Commander. Behind them, their posts were smoothly and immediately occupied by other members of the command staff. Kresge held the door open for them and motioned towards two chairs that were placed facing his small desk in the makeshift command room. He closed the door behind them and rather than taking a seat behind the desk, sat partially on top of it, one leg still on the floor. Hands folded in his lap, he looked the two of them over for a moment, concern written all over his face before diving in to the difficult task ahead of him.

  "The enemy is going to be here in just a matter of a few hours," he began. Both junior officers nodded.

  "Is it time for us to get ready?" asked Harris.

  "Not just yet," replied Kresge. "I'd make it about an hour, give or take, before they jump towards us, however long it takes for them to discuss the new information they gathered and make any modifications to their plan of action. As soon as they jump, then you'll have to get into position. After that, I don't know how long you'll be out there. Get over to the mess area and have a good hot meal before you go." He paused again for a moment and continued, "None of us asked for this, but it is what it is and we have no choice but to deal with it. Whatever happens, I want you two to know that it has been an honor serving with you." He paused for a couple more seconds before adding, "I suggest you get your affairs in order, if you know what I mean..."

  "We'll do our very best, Commander," said Carlisle.

  "Of that, I have no doubt," replied Kresge. "Anything else?" There was no response. "In that case, dismissed. Good luck!"

  Carlisle and Harris got up and silently filed out of the small office.

  ***

  UTFN Reclamation Center, in the mess area of UTFN Auxiliary Ship Greyhound, December 16, 2598.

  Carlisle and Harris took the Commander's advice and went to the makeshift mess area of the Greyhound. They each load
ed up a platter with the day's offering and went over to sit at a table in the corner. The room itself was nearly full, with only two or three of the other tables unoccupied. Neither of them was very hungry but, being military and not knowing when they might have a chance to sit down and eat again, both of them quickly ate as much as they could and then continued to pick at what remained afterwards.

  Carlisle opened the conversation.

  "Here we are about to go back out and possibly die again," she began.

  "Just like old times," Harris replied. He smirked, "We have to stop meeting like this!" Then, more seriously, he continued, "Do you realize that this is the first time we've had a chance to talk, just the two of us, since the Istanbul came to New Ceylon?"

  "I know," she sighed. "We've just been so damned busy!"

  "Yeah, if it hasn't been one thing, it's been another. Going to war has that effect, I guess."

  Carlisle's look turned serious as well, "You're not angry with me, are you?" she said.

  "Why would you think that?" replied Harris.

  "Because you've seemed kind of moody and you've been avoiding talking to me."

  Harris looked at her curiously. "That's because we were ordered to behave as if we didn't know you, to avoid breaking your cover."

  "What? When did that happen?"

  "Just before the big meeting we all attended right after the Istanbul came to the Scrapyard."

  "You mean it's not because I couldn't write to you? I am so sorry... Ryan. I meant to write, and I did...while I could." Seeing his puzzled look, she explained. "The graduate committee took away my wrist computer the day before for my final exam and the Admiral offered me this mission right afterwards. They wouldn't give me back my wrist computer! Admiral Loftgren said it had too much sensitive information on it. I don't know that I had much choice about the mission if I wanted to stay in the Navy. After I accepted this assignment, they told me I was not allowed to contact anyone, not even you. I feel just awful about it."

  "You mean to say that you stopped writing to me because you were ordered to?"

  "That's the truth. I felt terrible but there wasn't a damned thing I could do."

  "That kind of changes a lot of things." He paused for a moment, swallowed. "You know, I thought maybe we had the beginnings of something."

  "You and me?" she replied. Her look was mildly surprised.

  "Well...why not?" came his response.

  "I've liked you a lot, from the very beginning..." she said.

  "Is there someone else?"

  "Heavens, no!" she replied immediately.

  "Then...what?"

  She paused for a long moment before replying. "It's because I never thought anyone would ever think of me that way."

  Harris looked at her dumbfounded.

  "That's absurd," he said, gently. "You have so much to offer."

  Carlisle blushed and looked down at her plate.

  "But I'm...," she searched for words and came up with: "...I'm pretty damned odd. Besides that, I'm a Spacer and you're..."

  Harris interrupted her, gently.

  "You, know, I don't remember thinking much about any of that stuff after the first day we met. It's part of who you are and...I like who you are."

  She cocked her head and looked at him for a long moment.

  "You...You really mean that, don't you?" she said.

  Harris nodded in affirmation as the conversation ceased and they looked into one another's eyes, neither of them quite sure where to take the conversation next.

  At that moment an announcement came over the ship's intercom. "All hands to battle stations! Repeat, all hands to battle stations! Enemy ships have just gone into microjump!"

  Harris smiled at Carlisle before reaching across the table, taking her hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

  "We'll get through this," he said.

  She squeezed back before, still holding his hand, she stood up and came around to his side of the table. She used his hand to bring him to his feet and pull his arm around her waist before putting her arms around his neck and embracing him firmly.

  "Oh what the hell!" she said. "Kiss me again, Ryan, like you did that time before I left!"

  Harris closed his eyes and kissed her firmly. After a space of perhaps ten heartbeats, they broke the kiss but continued to hold each other tight, gazing into one another's eyes for a precious few more stolen moments. The entire mess area broke out in applause. The two young officers, belatedly noticing the other people in the room, looked somewhat embarrassed.

  The announcement was repeated over the intercom.

  "Battle stations, everyone! Let's get moving, People!"

  Carlisle kissed Harris on the cheek and broke the embrace.

  "Come on, Lieutenant," she said, with the intense fire in her eyes that Harris had seen so many times before, "we've got another battle to fight. We can talk more about this if we somehow manage to survive!"

  "We'll survive if I have anything to say about it," he said. "Lead the way!"

  They headed towards the suit room to make preparations for the pending fight.

  Chapter 55.

  UTFN Reclamation Center, December 16, 2598.

  On board UTFN Auxiliary Ship Greyhound.

  After the microjump, the enemy ships began accelerating towards the Scrapyard, two destroyers in the lead and the other ships trailing what they considered to be a safe distance behind with the third destroyer bringing up the rear. On the bridge of the Greyhound, Commander Kresge nervously watched the enemy advance.

  "Tell me when they get within a thousand kilometers," said the Commander.

  "Almost there now, Sir," replied CPO Jenkins.

  "Chief Allen, activate the decoys now."

  Perry Allen flipped the switch that turned on over a dozen battery-powered heat and light sources deployed in wrecks that were scattered throughout the scrap cloud. These units consisted of what the defenders had been able to cobble together and varied greatly in their output and intensity, all the better to confuse the enemy and help direct his attention away from the energy outputs of the real Scrapyard targets. The decoys appeared to be having the desired effect.

  "They've slowed their advance, Commander," said Jenkins.

  "We have weapons fire!" announced Allen.

  The crew on the bridge of the Greyhound watched as a pulse beam from the lead destroyer lanced out and struck one of the decoy targets, inside a wreck deliberately chosen because it was in the outer fringe of the scrap cloud. The pulse struck the wreck amidships and passed completely though it but the decoy unit onboard continued to operate. A second pulse from the same destroyer struck the bridge area of the wreck, finally destroying the decoy.

  "These decoys might slow them down, but they won't hold them for long," said Kresge. "I want no return fire until they have limited maneuvering capability and we're absolutely sure we can't miss them. Let them get well inside the scrap cloud!"

  As had been the case when the terrorist ships had attacked the Scrapyard a two months earlier, the inner areas of the Scrapyard were only accessible through a corridor in the scrap cloud that was deliberately kept free of wreckage. To get into the scrap cloud, and bring the fight to the Federation forces, the enemy would have to utilize this corridor with all of his ships, the destroyers and support vessels alike. The Junkyard Dogs had arranged their defenses accordingly.

  The enemy destroyed another four of the decoy units while they were still on route to the Scrapyard. Finally, the two lead destroyers began to encounter the fringes of the scrap cloud. The more vulnerable of their ships remained well behind and held back, awaiting further developments.

  ***

  On board renegade destroyer Perseus.

  "How in the name of the Prophet are we to find anything in this mess?" asked Hassad, Captain of the Perseus, nervously pacing the bridge area, trying to keep track of all the displays as his ship began to nose into the cloud of wrecks.

  "We must utilize the corridor which is free
of wreckage, Sir."

  "I know, but I don't like it. This enemy is crafty. He has us firing at shadows!"

  "What do you wish to do, Sir?"

  "What choice do we have? Keep the shields at maximum and continue heading into the corridor. In the meantime, keep on firing at the obvious targets, at least we will have eliminated them as distractions. Is there any sign of that armed cargo vessel or of the diplomatic ship?"

  "Not yet, Sir, but as you have pointed out, they could be almost anywhere."

  Behind them, the Skorpios also nosed into the scrap cloud corridor.

  "Keep a sharp eye on your displays," said the Captain. "It should not be easy to hide that diplomatic ship from us at this range."

  "If I were them, I would place the ship near wrecks of similar size."

  "An excellent suggestion," said Hassad. "Helm? See if you can get us closer to that line of cruisers over there."

  As the Perseus maneuvered closer to the cluster of cruisers the sensor tech announced that he had found something.

  "I have a contact, Sir," he said.

  "Is it another of those confounded decoys?"

  "I cannot be totally sure, Sir, but this one looks different. It isn't nearly as obvious as the others have been."

  "Target that contact, and fire the front battery!" said the Captain.