Solomon Family Warriors II

by Robert H. Cherny

  “I was thinking about that. We should probably wait until we know more about what we are up against. By the time the courier gets there, they marshal the forces, and the forces arrive, we could be waiting two months. We’re on our own. We’ll deal with this as it rolls out.”

  Monitored radio transmissions indicated that the system’s defense force knew that they had arrived, and they had stepped into something of a hornet’s nest. The hornets were milling around and making of noise, but they had not come together in anything that looked like a coordinated response.

  After two hours of monitoring frantic radio transmissions, Rachel said, “Elizabeth, please set security level yellow.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Communications? Adele, have we heard a hail on any frequency?”

  “No, Captain, no hail on any frequency.”

  “Faye Anne, since they know we are here, should we call them and see what happens?”

  Faye Anne grinned. “They certainly know we are here, and they are trying to gather the troops to do something about us. Can’t hurt.”

  “Adele, please hail the system and request permission to establish orbit around the planet with the settlement.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Repeated hails on the same frequencies the pilots were using brought no response. In fact all radio communication ceased with the apparent realization that they were being monitored.

  “We have incoming!” Vernon, the sensor operator called out. “Multiple small drive signatures. I would guess fifty of the Model 21 at two o’clock level. ETA two hours.”

  “Elizabeth, please raise security level to orange.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Lt. Rattigan, please make sure that preparations for the call to battle stations are complete. I will call battle stations in about an hour. Please report when you are complete.”

  “I’m on it, Captain!”

  Rachel smiled. The big man towered over her and everyone else on her bridge, but instead of being intimidated by him, which was his intent, they all loved him and teased him unmercifully.

  “Captain, I have a second group of drives at ten o’clock. Perhaps fifty ships,” Vernon called.

  “Do you see any large ships?”

  “All the drive signatures match the 21, Captain.”

  “Do they appear to be in formation or are they a disorganized mob?”

  “Definitely a mob, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Vernon. When I call battle stations I will call for all combat personnel to be in flight suits with helmets closed. If any of you needs to anything from your cabin get it now.”

  No one moved and several flashed “thumbs up” signals. Rachel smiled. Her preference for suiting up her staff was well known and had saved some of their lives in previous conflicts. Federation Space Force policy recommended but did not require the precaution. Rachel required it. Her crew knew to be prepared.

  The two groups of interceptors approached in a chaotic jumble. The ships continually jockeyed for position within the formation if indeed it could be called that. Rachel thought of a school of fish, but fish were more organized.

  “Captain, I have another drive signature inside the cluster to the left. I think there’s a destroyer hidden in there,” Vernon called out.

  “Very good. Any idea what type of destroyer?”

  “I am not sure. I think it’s the same type you flew in the Saturn shipyard relocation mission.”

  “We are familiar with those, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, we are!” Wendy affirmed. “Nasty little buggers, but not invincible.”

  Vernon suddenly switched his attention to another part of his display. “Captain, there’s another destroyer inside the other cluster.”

  “Nothing we can’t handle,” Alina said confidently.

  Vernon, for whom this was his first combat mission, looked at her suspiciously.

  Rachel smiled at the young man’s concern. “Ladies and Gentlemen it is time to circle the wagons. Elizabeth, please sound battle stations.”

  “Battle stations! Aye Captain.” Then in the gruff voice of an old cartoon character she called out, “It’s clobbering time!”

  “Captain, perhaps we should have the P I ships go after the destroyers and leave the minnows for the escorts,” Alina suggested.

  “That makes sense. We should keep the med ships arrayed around the drives,” Rachel replied.

  “Should we have the med ships arm their lasers? We will have plenty of coverage between our lasers and Peter’s.”

  “I think it would be good. We haven’t tried the new lasers in combat.”

  She looked at Reuben who shrugged because he knew what she would say next. “I don’t care what engineering says, you don’t know something will work until either it does or it doesn’t. Let’s give the med pilots the chance to fight back instead of being targets all the time.”

  Within minutes the ships were undocked and the ships that were to stay close were in position. Rachel looked across the bridge one more time.

  Vernon sang out excitedly, “Captain! We have targeting radar lock! They locked on us!”

  “Mr. Shapiro! Does the initiation of a targeting radar lock constitute an act of war?”

  “Yes, Captain, under Federation rules of engagement, it does.”

  “Flight Operations! You are clear to engage the enemy! Remember, we don’t want any heroes. Talk to each other folks. We are a team.”

  “Captain!” Adele in communications sang out, “Captain, you need to hear this! May I put it on speaker for the bridge?”

  “Put it on speaker.”

  Suddenly the bridge was filled with the sound of yelling, hooting and hollering in a language unfamiliar to any of them. It sounded like a bunch of hooligans at a sporting event.

  “You know what that sounds like?” Faye Anne said mystified. “It sounds like that old chef from the old kids’ television show only like the guy was on some serious drugs.”

  “The language is a mixture of Scandinavian languages,” Elizabeth offered.

  “That makes no sense,” Faye Anne mused out loud.

  “There is no reason anything about this mission should make sense,” Rachel replied in resignation. “You know,” Rachel continued, “this reminds me of those two crazy blond guys on your floor our third year at the Academy.”

  Reuben laughed out loud, “That was the year they went up into the mountain to go skinny dipping in that stream in the middle of the winter.”

  “Who were the two girls that went with them?” Faye Anne asked with a chuckle.

  “I just remember the cops bringing them back to the Academy naked!” David chortled. “What a pair they were!”

  “So, if those two crazy guys were behind this nonsense we are seeing in front of us,” Rachel asked, “what would we expect them to do next?”

  The laughter suddenly stopped.

  “Totally unpredictable,” Faye Anne said.

  “No, I don’t think so,” Wendy offered. “I think they will be so focused beating each other to the target that they ignore any real threats coming from any other quarter.”

  “Like up the pipes?” Alina asked.

  “Exactly!” Wendy replied.

  “How far are the P I’s and escorts from missile range?” Rachel asked.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “Instruct the P I’s and escorts to wait until they are at the edge of missile range. Then short jump behind the formation so they can attack it from there. The P I’s still need to focus on the destroyers.”

  Several of the 21’s fired their missiles before they were within effective range. Well before they were in any danger, the P I’s and the escorts short hyper jumped behind the two advancing formations.

  Rachel was continually amazed at the fact that other than Eretz and the forces she commanded, no one used the short, impossible to follow, hyper jump. It was a tactic that had been key to winning many of her conflicts. When the P I's and escorts jump
ed, the missiles lost their lock and, true to form, turned around and attacked the fleet that had launched them. They had heard this about the 21’s missiles, but this was the first time any of them had seen it. Several of the tiny ships vaporized when hit by their own missiles, and others were destroyed when they collided with the debris from the ships in front of them. Rachel and her crew stared at their displays in disbelief openly amazed at the carnage going on in front of them. Still the singing and carrying on continued. At one point they thought they heard a yodel, but none of them was really sure.

  Sitting behind the “school” of little ships, the escort ships’ lasers were industriously destroying the drive systems one little ship after another careful to pick ones at the periphery of the formation so that they did not then fly into the debris left when the destroyer’s ordinance detonated. This little corner of space was getting very cluttered and would be a hazard for a long time. After many of their cohort were gone, the destroyers recognized that they were being approached from behind and almost as if they actually talked to each other, at the same time fired a multiple warhead missile from their aft tube. This would have been a smart move were it not for the fact that the P I ships had anticipated it, but what even they did not anticipate was that the 21’s still jockeying for position would fly into the path of these missiles and cause the warheads to detonate prematurely. The P I ships pitched up so that their heat shields took the brunt of the impacts from the debris. They would not be able to enter an atmosphere until the shields were repaired, but that seemed of little consequence at the time. Returning to normal flight, the P I ships each fired four missiles into the destroyers’ propulsion systems. As soon as the missiles were safely away, the P I ships dodged to be away from the debris field that would be created when the missiles hit their targets.

  The explosions caused by the detonations of the destroyers’ reactors was bright enough to be seen with the naked eye from the flight decks of the med ships arrayed around Elizabeth’s and Peter’s propulsion systems. The debris field expanded rapidly as pieces of the destroyers impacted the surrounding ships and destroyed them as well.

  Rachel watched her displays in disbelief. The remains of the two formations approached missile range in that their missiles could now reach her ship. Her missiles could have reached the 21’s for a while, but using them would have meant endangering the P I’s and Escorts. The two formations had started out with a hundred ships between them and now there were fewer than twenty. If it wasn’t for the fact that people were dying out there, this would have been funny. The term “turkey shoot” and the memory of a battle in the Pacific came to mind.

  Rachel called Elizabeth’s and Peter’s laser batteries into action. Just inside missile range all sixteen of the remaining 21’s fired both their missiles tubes. Of the thirty two missiles in that first volley four made it to target and exploded harmlessly on the battleship’s armored shell.

  Eight ships remained for the second volley. One missile destroyed one of Elizabeth’s sensor arrays. The other impacted the armored shell.

  Four ships remained for the final volley. None of the missiles survived to reach their target.

  Rachel scanned her displays for signs of threats. Other than the debris which could orbit this part of space for a long time, there was nothing that she felt posed a threat. “Elizabeth, sound the all clear. I want after action reports from all departments on my desk in four hours.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Rachel stared at her display for a while before saying, “Did anyone see any escape pods out there? Does the 21 even have an escape pod?”

  “Yes, they do,” Reuben replied, “but they are manually activated. They work fine when you have a mechanical malfunction, but they take too long to use in combat.”

  “Thank you. Alina, please instruct all pilots to search for escape pods. Retrieve them and bring them to the medical emergency dock. Do not let the occupants of the pod out until we get them in quarantine. Lt. Rattigan, would you please attend to sequestering our guests?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Oh and your people should be in combat armor with their helmets closed. We don’t want any of your people endangered.” Lt. Rattigan saluted and headed out.

  “Faye Anne, socialize with our guests and make them feel at home.”

  Faye Anne grinned. Interrogation was one of her favorite parts of her job, and she had learned some new techniques as she lay naked on the table at Stonebridge.

  “Alina, you have the conn. Keep the personnel you need to finish rounding up the escape pods, and then have some of the youngsters stand bridge watch.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Rachel stood between the Vernon and Adele’ positions. “Excellent work, you two. For your first combat mission, you did well. Now that I know what you are capable of, I expect to see it all the time.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Rachel pointed at Alina. “When that slave driver over there gets through with you, make sure you get some sleep.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  COLONY SERVICE - CHAPTER TWO

  RACHEL COLLAPSED ON HER BED and slept soundly for the first time since she had left Stonebridge. For the first time since Isaac had stopped sedating her, she slept without waking screaming in terror from the memory of what had happened in that hell hole. Elizabeth gently woke her as requested, and she wandered from her quarters into her office. She settled down at her desk to find a tray of fresh cinnamon buns and coffee on the credenza. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  “You’re welcome, Rachel.”

  Rachel studied the reports and dictated notes to Elizabeth for praise of the things that had gone well and further discussion on things that had not gone well. Six hours after Rachel had turned the bridge over to Alina, Faye Anne knocked on the door. Faye Anne looked haggard and a little the worse for wear. Rachel motioned for Faye Anne to help herself to a roll and some coffee before sitting down. Whatever was burning a hole in Faye Anne’s mind could wait until she finished the roll.

  Faye Anne handed a pile of pictures across the table. “What’s wrong with these pictures?”

  “Why did you take so many pictures of the same guy? What about the others?” Rachel asked.

  “Those are five guys. The sixth, he, well, he didn’t make it. They are incredibly aggressive.”

  “They look the same,” Rachel observed.

  “Because they are the same. Isaac says their DNA is closer than twins.”

  “Clones?”

  “That’s what Isaac thinks.”

  “You mean someone is running a puppy mill down there for people?”

  “Yup, well someone WAS running a puppy mill. Something has gone wrong down there. The inmates are running the nut house.”

  “Tell me what you know.”

  “I am doing some serious filling in the blanks here, but let me guess as best I can.”

  “Go for it.”

  “About thirty years ago, someone spotted this planet on a survey chart out beyond the edge of anything anyone had decided to settle. They decided that this large blond blue eyed descendant of the Vikings would make the perfect clone mercenary. Based on our experience with the two we knew at the Academy, I am not sure how they reached that conclusion, but that is neither here nor there. They came out here and established this clone farm. There are no women here. All of the clones were grown in incubators of some kind. The guys we fought are all in their mid twenties. They are the oldest of what appear to have been about six thousand clones on the planet. About ten years ago, they had an uprising against the people who ran the place and killed them. They destroyed all the labs in the turf wars that broke out between rival gangs. Between the turf wars, starvation and diseases, I would guess there are perhaps three thousand left on the surface ranging from ten years to twenty five years in age. They are aggressive, hostile and suspicious. They do not work well together although they will follow a strong leader, at least temporarily. They are not as well t
rained as they think they are. When they destroyed the labs, they destroyed the training simulators and the electronic teaching materials. Worst of all, they stink. These guys haven’t bathed in weeks. Oh, and one last thing, none of them was wearing a flight suit. They weren’t even wearing shirts. They wore ratty shorts and sandals,” Faye Anne shuddered. “Nasty people.”

  “What about other ships?” Rachel asked.

  “I am not sure. The satellites were put up by the people who established the place, and they brought in the ships we saw. Apparently they were planning on attacking some of the local Federation settlements and plundering them.”

  “That would have been interesting,” Rachel smirked.

  “Yeah. I think there is an ancient battleship that they were planning on using as the flagship of their assault fleet. It might be a cruiser, but I doubt it. I think there might be two more cruisers and a couple of destroyers, but we got all the 21’s. It seems each type of ship has been taken over by a different gang with its own gang leader. The reason there were two groups that attacked us was that these were two rival gangs. Had they been victorious, they would have fought each other over the booty. The gang leaders hate each other and will not work together. We don’t know how much ordinance each ship carries, and we don’t know how well staffed each ship is either in numbers or in the quality of their training.”

  “So what is your recommendation?”

  “If we are to establish a colony here, we need to clear all that out.”

  “You sound like its just pest control.”

  “It kind of is, and that is what we do.”

  Rachel smiled. “Yes, it is. Thank you, Faye Anne. You should get some rest.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Rachel sat and quietly absorbed Faye Anne’s report for a few minutes. “Elizabeth, could you have Reuben come see me, please.”

  When Reuben arrived, Rachel had prints from scans intercepted from the tracking satellites tacked all over the walls and ceiling of the conference room. There were some advantages to hanging weightless in orbit.

  Reuben eyed the mass of paper and turned to Rachel. “How are you feeling?”