Solomon Family Warriors II

by Robert H. Cherny

  “The first step is to coordinate with our colleagues at New St. Louis. We leave at 1900 hours one week from tomorrow from the freight depot.”

  Greg and Avi had kept Rose informed about the activities to date. Rose had made it plain that she had spent more time than she wanted cooped up inside flying tin cans and had no intention of going with them. The parenting classes she had established were going well and the young parents needed her far more than Greg and Avi did.

  After the meeting, Greg and Avi went to tell their P I ships what was happening. The ships were sitting on the flight line after a session of solo flights.

  “Buddy,” Greg said in conclusion. “Do you understand the scope of the challenges we face?”

  “I understand, but I don’t think you understand the scope of the challenges you are leaving behind.”

  “Oh?”

  “What a bunch of blockheads!”

  “The students?”

  “Yes, the students.”

  “We’ve been dealing with it for a while. Now it’s your turn. Good luck!”

  “Can I talk to Sarah about the students?”

  “Certainly. You may discuss anything with Sarah. I’ll tell her you would like to see her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sarah Abrams kissed her husband goodbye before he climbed into the ship. She went to “Buddy” as requested.

  “Hey, Buddy. Greg said you wished to see me.”

  “Sarah, Esther is about to kill Tonya. Mimi thinks Bernice is a total idiot and Jeremy shut down the reactor three times by accident.”

  “Fake shutdowns to keep him from hurting himself or real ones?”

  “Real ones! The bonehead! Is there something we can do with these people?”

  “That’s your job. Now you understand why we need you here so badly.”

  “Are you sure this is not punishment?”

  “No, Buddy, this is making maximum use of available resources.” She turned to the view-port to watch the ship depart. “Buddy, how were the boys when you last saw them?”

  “They were well and physically in the best shape I have ever seen them. I think Reuben may have a girlfriend, but I am not sure.”

  “Do you know who she is?”

  “No.”

  “What about Rashi?”

  “He loves Esther.”

  “I miss them.”

  “Would you like me to take you to them?”

  “You could do that couldn’t you.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Sometimes our sense of responsibility has to take priority over our desires, besides the last thing the boys need is for their mother to show up in the middle of the term at the Academy. Maybe you and Daisy can take Levonah, Esther, Mimi and me on a shopping trip to New St Louis.”

  “That’s a long shopping trip! Six months round trip.”

  “Could be fun.”

  Admiral Sherman and his team left as scheduled for New St. Louis in spite of the engineering staff’s misgivings. The inertial compensator worked, but the side effects were debilitating. The trip to New St Louis took nine days, but they spent an additional day at one G recovering from the nausea and disorientation. Still, ten days in transit was better than ninety.

  Admiral Dankese had been receiving daily updates via courier missile and had additional information over and above what Greg brought. The Joint Chiefs had secretly been in discussion as to how best to help Saturn Industries since the sabotage impacted them directly. Saturn had been the Federation’s preferred vendor for warships for a very long time. Admiral Dankese forwarded the plan to move the Saturn shipyard to headquarters. The reply from Federation headquarters was a month in coming. “Initiate relocation plan as detailed. Command staff to report with all haste to Nuclear Power School and establish mission headquarters.”

  Admiral Sherman sent a courier missile to his team at Eretz who eagerly anticipated his message. “We are go for lift off. Nuclear Power School.” With those simple words, a massive undertaking began.

  Peter arrived at New St. Louis the next day with the refugees Rachel and company had dispatched what seemed a lifetime ago. Greg and Avi flew out to meet the ship and pilot it to the dock.

  Once having dealt with the passengers’ awe at meeting the real Greg and Avi Solomon, Greg and Avi took the command seats. Simon and Nathan were relieved at not having to dock the ship.

  “Hello, Peter.”

  “Hello Greg, Avi. It is good to see you again.”

  “Peter, we are going to Dock Seven. I am taking control. Peter, we have many things to discuss, but we do not have the time now. Buddy and Daisy will fill you in when you get to Eretz.”

  “Buddy and Daisy?”

  “The P I ships, your friends.”

  “Many things have changed, then.”

  “Yes, they have. As soon as we dock, Avi and I are headed to the Central System. You will off load here as appropriate and then go to Eretz as planned. You will report to Sarah Abrams for detailed instructions. You will pick up as large a load as you can carry and then, without a human crew, you will bring that load as fast as you can to a point just outside the Central System’s defensive perimeter in the planetary plane diametrically opposite the location of Pluto when you arrive. You will send me a courier at Nuclear Power School to inform me that you have arrived.”

  “These are most unusual instructions.”

  “We have a most unusual mission.”

  They docked. Ellie Mae and Elvira ran onto the ship to greet the new arrivals. Customs and immigration agents followed to process the passengers’ paperwork and tend to their immediate needs.

  After they had docked, before leaving their seats, Greg said, “Peter, there was a time when we could operate independently. Sometimes our independence saved lives. I have supported your ability to act independently. This mission is different. This mission is so involved, so complicated and so dangerous that independent action could cause the deaths of many of our friends. Please, no independent action this trip.”

  “Greg, I understand. As you said, we have a most unusual mission.”

  ACADEMY - CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE WEATHER AT THE ACADEMY turned bitter cold. It was a dry cold without even the briefest of snows to soften the wind. By winter break, the campus had turned into an armed camp. During the break, the evangelical cadets were invited to retreats hosted by the headquarters of one of the more aggressive evangelical organizations headquartered nearby. The Swordsmen congregated in their own retreat.

  The weather seemed to conspire to deepen the gloom of those who had to stay on campus that winter break. The bleakness of the weather seemed somehow appropriate given the depths to which the Academy had appeared to fall during the preceding term.

  Rachel was surprised one morning to wake and find messages on her hand-held data assistant. She had set her blocking software to the highest possible level and other than coursework distributed electronically, she had received no messages since term had started. She opened her locker to find her data assistant quietly beeping its mail alert. Her roommate had gone to one of the evangelical retreats and Rachel enjoyed the time alone.

  The message was in plain text and not encoded. “Rachel, nice work on the ships. Your friends miss you. They wanted to stay with you. I have assigned them to training duty and told them to be nice to the kids. It appears to be a successful arrangement. You certainly opened a can of worms. Your mother and I will be busy for a while sorting things out. Your mother misses you. Keep everyone out of trouble. These are tough times. Love you, Dad.”

  The impact of the significance of the message did not sink in until after she read her mother’s message. “Rachel, you have no idea how proud we are of you. You and Wendy are fulfilling promises your father and I made long ago. Have faith. Don’t let your father fool you. He misses you even more than I do. We are digging through the messes you discovered. When we can get together, we will give you the details. Love you, Mom.”

  Rachel stared
at the messages not believing her eyes. Wendy wandered by a few minutes later. “They’re here,” Wendy stated flatly.

  “What?”

  “They’re somewhere in the Central System,”Wendy said.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Look at the message header. That was sent from a Space Force installation in this system.”

  “They would have had to travel incredibly fast to get here this quickly.”

  “I wonder if they got the inertial compensator working.”

  “You think?”

  “Reuben would know better. I suspect he’ll be along soon.” Wendy and Rachel dressed and went to the mess hall for breakfast. Reuben and Rashi joined them after they had finished eating. The boys were in a heated debate over whether the inertial compensator was in fact working or whether their father had traveled the entire trip at an unbelievable ten or more G’s. The idea that he had departed long enough ago to make the trip at normal speeds was completely ruled out. Faye Anne joined the group.

  “We’ve figured out they really are here. My questions are where exactly and why.” Faye Anne stated flatly as she puffed over a cup of coffee.

  David was the only one who had not received a message. “What are you talking about?”

  “Our parents are in the Central System,” Wendy said.

  David did some mental calculations. “That’s impossible.”

  “Apparently not,” Reuben said. “Our father is here too.”

  “And my father,” Faye Anne said.

  “Well, then let me deepen the mystery for you,” David added. “Our Marine friends are away on a classified assignment.”

  “All of them?” Rachel asked.

  “Yup. Apparently whatever we stirred up out there warrants serious attention,” David said.

  They debated until they tired of the frustration of not knowing what was happening. They wandered out of the building and walked through the quiet of the first snowfall of the season. Faye Anne’s intelligence friend stopped by some days later, but he had no additional information.

  Classes resumed after break. The level of harassment elevated. The evangelical and Swordsman Cadets had been fired up with a new zeal to do battle with each other and the infidels in their midst. Two weeks into the new term, Rachel was in combat strategy class when the instructor brought up the subject of defending oneself against a battleship. Rachel listened quietly until she realized how suicidal the instructor’s tactics really were. She raised her hand. She stood when recognized.

  “Rachel Solomon, sir. With all due respect sir.”

  “Jews got not respect!” someone shouted from the back.

  “With all due respect sir,” she continued. “A defending force attempting to use the tactics you described will be destroyed with all hands without causing significant damage to the battleship.”

  “Are you challenging the teachings of experienced Academy strategists?”

  “Sir, with all due respect, if this is the strategy, then, I must challenge it,” Rachel said calmly.

  “And by what means have you come to this absurd conclusion?” the instructor challenged.

  “Sir, the rounded forward part of the battleship is heavily armed, and the thick armor shielding is extremely difficult to penetrate. There are tiny ports though which the lasers and missiles are fired. The odds of successfully penetrating one of these ports are infinitesimal. The laser batteries will intercept all but the heaviest missile barrages, and only another battleship has the firepower to deliver the kind of fusillade necessary to have any impact.” Rachel said.

  “So you are saying that a rapid succession of smaller ships firing carefully targeted missiles could not damage the battleship,” the instructor concluded.

  “No sir, the smaller ships will not get into firing range without being destroyed. It would be suicide, sir. Hell, we threw an asteroid at one and couldn’t kill it,” Rachel commented.

  “You will not curse in my class!”

  “I apologize, sir. Sir, has anyone ever attacked a Federation battleship and survived?”

  “Not that I am aware of. That would seem to indicate they are indestructible.”

  “It would except that I have killed one that had been sold to the Swordsmen.”

  “That is not possible. No Federation battleships have fallen in battle.”

  “Sir, that is not correct. I killed one, and my friend Myra Myrakova killed one at the cost of her own life and that of her crew.”

  “Cadet Solomon, sit down. You have said quite enough.”

  Rachel sat down.

  “As I was saying,” the instructor continued. “The targets are the firing tubes here and here.”

  “Sir, that is suicide.”

  “Cadet Solomon, leave the room. You are on report.”

  “On what charge?”

  “Attempting to undermine the authority of a superior officer and sedition.”

  “Sedition, sir?”

  “For actions interfering with the instruction of Space Force Cadets. You will report to the Judge Advocate office at 1800 hours for a pretrial hearing.”

  Rachel got up and stormed out of the room. Hoots and laughter followed her out.

  “At least you didn’t throw your knife,” Wendy said when Rachel described what had happened.

  The six cadets waited in the hearing room where Rachel had been directed upon reporting to the legal office. They rose when the judge entered and sat at the station in the front of the room. He dealt with smaller cases involving minor infractions of Academy rules before he turned to Rachel.

  He read the charges, “Cadet Solomon how do you plead?”

  “Innocent, sir on all counts, sir.”

  “Cadet Solomon, an attorney will be assigned to represent you. A tribunal will be convened on Monday at 0800 hours to hear your case. Dismissed.”

  “Sir, I wish to choose my own attorney.”

  “Cadet Solomon, an attorney will be assigned to represent you. Do you wish to be held in contempt of court until then?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Cadet, you are dismissed.”

  Rachel sent a message to her parents at the addresses shown on the last messages and hoped they would receive it before Monday. Rachel’s roommate found space in her heart to leave Rachel alone in the days leading up to the trial. Rachel met with the assigned attorney who listened attentively, but offered no suggestions or counseling. The man was a Lieutenant straight out of law school and did not seem to be the most aggressive person Rachel had ever met. David was especially concerned with the attorney’s failure to brief Rachel on his defensive strategy.

  The chairman of the tribunal was Commodore Tejbir Singh, Dean of Students. The other two officers were Commodores responsible for Academy administration. After the formalities and the charges had been read, the attorneys were called to the bench. “How does your client plead?” Commodore Singh asked.

  “My client pleads guilty on all counts and begs on the mercy of the court,” Rachel’s appointed attorney pronounced.

  “I said no such thing!” Rachel jumped to her feet.

  “Counselor, restrain your client or you will both be held in contempt of court.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A tall man in a Commodore’s uniform with the brass of a senior legal officer and a chest full of battle ribbons strode forward. “These proceedings have gone far enough.” He pointed at the attorney. “You are dismissed. I am taking the defendant’s case.”

  “You can’t do that,” the attorney sputtered.

  “Yes, I can on the grounds of unethical conduct in the form of defamatory and derogatory statements made in public about your client in church on Sunday. Get out before I put you on charges!”

  The attorney scuttled out the door.

  “Your honor, could we please call a fifteen minute recess while I meet with my client?” the new attorney requested.

  “The court will reconvene in fifteen minutes.”

  The Commo
dore sat down next to Rachel. His nameplate read “McGuire”.

  “Thank you, sir,” Rachel said quietly.

  “Your father saved my life. It’s time I repaid the favor. The best we can hope for is an Article 89 for disrespect to a superior officer or an Article 133 for conduct unbecoming an officer. We can beat the other charges. There may be loss of rank and administrative punishment, but your parents had worse than that happen to them, and they survived.”

  “Sir, if you say so. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Answer only the questions I ask. Do not elaborate unless I ask you to. When the other attorney questions you, answer in as few words as possible. One word answers are best.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Court reconvened and the charges were read again. “My client is willing to plead guilty to an Article 89 administrative action only if all other charges are dropped.”

  “That will be impossible,” the prosecutor sputtered.

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Opening statements, gentlemen,” Commodore Singh instructed.

  The prosecutor stood. “I shall prove that by her willful and deliberate actions, Cadet Solomon did undermine the authority of a superior officer. Her actions were so serious as to permanently damage the education received by the cadets in her class at the academy. The significance of this damage is so great as to be considered seditious.” The prosecutor sat behind his table.

  “Nonsense, Lieutenant. I will prove that no serious crime has been committed. Cadet Solomon sought to bring to the class relevant information of which she had special knowledge and which challenged the accepted principles of the past. In her concern for the safety of her colleagues, she may have pressed her case more forcefully than was judicious, but she cannot be faulted for the truth of her statements. Since when has a considered difference of opinion in an Academy classroom or even a battlefield planning conference been chargeable as sedition? I contend to you that Cadet Solomon is the victim in this proceeding.” The Commodore sat behind the table.

  The prosecutor called the instructor who told his side of the events. When the prosecutor was finished, the Commodore addressed the tribunal, “Your honors, I have no questions for this witness at this time, but I reserve the right to recall him to the stand after all the other witnesses have testified.”