Solomon Family Warriors II

by Robert H. Cherny

  “Can they do that?” Isaac exclaimed, interrupting.

  “Yes, they can,” David said and realized he had spoken out of turn. “My apologies Ma’am.”

  “Cadet Shapiro, not at all, please explain.”

  “The Federation is not truly a government in the strictest sense. It is a legal entity something between an association and a corporation. The members of this association, the stakeholders, if you will, pay to join and pay to remain members. In return for the payments, the Federation provides certain specific services most of which relate to the regulation and facilitation of trade. The Federation does not have a constitution. It has a contract. The contract exists between the Federation and its member states and is enforceable only the extent that the Federation’s courts and military can enforce it. The purpose of this contract is to allow members to trade fairly and safely amongst themselves. The Federation is also responsible for enforcement of certain prohibitions that the founders felt so strongly about that they included them in the original contract. This contract was negotiated over a period of twenty years and took another twenty years to ratify. None of the original negotiators who drafted the first contract lived to see it completed. The most difficult section of the contract to negotiate had to do with the process of secession. Desperately afraid of a ‘Star Wars’ style evil empire, the founders sought a way to keep the Federation from becoming all consuming. By providing a process by which a member could legally withdraw without recriminations, they sought to limit the power of the central government. The majority of the process of secession is focused on the payment for or return of Federation assets and investments in the seceding party’s possession. Under the terms on the contract, both parties agree to a non-aggression pact at the beginning of the secession process. The goal is to prevent interplanetary civil wars that could decimate entire populations. Ma’am, I take it by your comment that the Swordsmen have served notice that they wish to enter into secession negotiations.”

  “Very astute, Cadet Shapiro.”

  “Would I be out of place to guess that the Saturn Industries move somehow precipitated their actions?” David asked.

  “Exactly. When you retire from the military, you should consider executive office.”

  “With all due respect, Ma’am, there’s no way. A Supreme Court judgeship would be a worthwhile goal, but the executive branch, no thanks!”

  The President smiled. “Captains Solomon, remember the Swordsman outpost you assaulted after the battle at Homestead?”

  Greg, Avi, Rachel and Wendy all nodded.

  “That is their new capital. By sending you, we are alerting the Swordsmen that we will negotiate in good faith, but should they fail to uphold their side of the bargain, we will not hesitate to use force. They know you and fear you. They also know that any concession you grant them will be hard won and honored once the negotiations are completed. Having said that, we are not foolish enough to think that the two of you could survive without support. You will be joined by the six Marines here in the room who will be your personal bodyguards. You and they have demonstrated your ability to work together and your trustworthiness in the recent Saturn project.”

  “Excuse me, Ma’am, but are you suggesting that we spend the next several months seated at a table in some conference room arguing over minutia?” Avi asked.

  The President smiled. “Ambassador Dwight Bentley will do that. You will be his military attaché and his pilots. You are both promoted to the rank of Commodore, effective immediately. You will assume command of the Cruiser Appomattox and proceed directly to your duty station.”

  She held out two berets. One was the white of the ship’s commander, the other was the black of the first officer. Avi and Greg looked at each other for a second in silence. Avi took the white beret and Greg took the black one.

  “Ambassador Bentley is on the ship. A jet awaits you on the flight line. Please say your farewells and leave quickly.”

  “What about the girls?” Avi started to ask looking at her daughters.

  “Back to school,” the president cut her off, “with a special mission.”

  “Thank you.”

  After a few minutes of pandemonium the room became quiet. The President looked at the seven young people in front of her. She sat in front of them. She looked tired. “Dr. Cohen, I have received conflicting reports about your program. Tell me your opinion. Will it work?”

  “Yes, it will.” Isaac answered carefully. “It will only because the people who are on the front lines want it to. There are many who fear that the marriage of medicine and technology will make medicine as mechanical as motor vehicle repair. That is a valid concern. The answer is to find people who care about people. I did not truly understand the program until I watched my grandparents die, slowly, painfully and there was nothing I could do to relieve their pain. I had the best medical minds in the history of the human race at my side, and we could not save them. I shudder to think about the person who knows that were they somewhere else, their loved one would survive, but because they are so far from properly equipped help, their loved one will die. Madam President, the program is about saving lives. Politics should have nothing to do with it.”

  “Well spoken. When you leave the protected environment of the school, without politics, how will you decide who will live and who will die?”

  “I hope never to have to make that choice.”

  “Dr. Cohen, you will make that decision almost every day for the rest of your career. Be ready for it. When you return to school, remember that far more than the lives you touch are riding on your skills. Do not let us down.”

  She turned to the others. “The Space Force Academy has been infiltrated with agents who would see us defeated. They have been responsible for disruptions and harassment. You will return to the Academy to draw out the provocateurs and expose them so we can arrest them. This could potentially be a dangerous undertaking. Use your best judgment and keep me informed. You will channel your information through Cadet Sherman who has instructions as to how to relay the information to her father.”

  Ladies and Gentlemen you have your orders. Your transportation awaits on the flight line. Dismissed.”

  Rachel, Wendy, Reuben, Rashi, David, Isaac and Joshua reassembled outside the hangar. Faye Anne was already there. “Folks, we don’t have time for long farewells. We will gather in Boston for Thanksgiving. Kisses and we need to go!”

  Ten minutes later the flight line was clear and the President’s jet rolled onto the taxiway to start the journey to the next hot spot.

  ACADEMY - CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  EVERY ORGANIZATION that had ever spoken ill of the Federation quickly issued at least one press release disclaiming responsibility for the attacks on the Saturn Industries shipyard relocation project. Established crime syndicates as well as groups that the law enforcement personnel previously did not know existed frantically assured the public that they had nothing to do with the attack and reiterated their fear of retribution for crimes they did not commit. The Swordsman Church issued a proclamation asking its people to forward to the church any information they might have leading to the determination of who was behind this attack as they openly feared the Federation might use this as an excuse to come after them. In spite of the church leadership’s fears, the Federation analysts had written off the Swordsmen as the force behind the attacks early in their research. Ironically, some of the press releases provided Federation law enforcement agencies information they needed to conclude other criminal investigations.

  Federation intelligence agencies sifting through the press releases in search of clues derived as much information from determining who did not deny responsibility as who did. The few agents that had been captured alive were mercenaries hired to accomplish a specific task. As would be expected, their payments could not be traced and they truthfully did not know who hired them.

  A pharmaceutical company purchased everything that Saturn Industries had left behind. They moved their orbi
ting manufacturing plant from its previous location and linked it to what had once been Saturn’s office complex, commercial center and living quarters. Mrs. O’Donnell quietly sought out the pharmaceutical company’s three top executives, all of whom were women, to enlist their assistance in the “railroad” for abused women. The women had known about the railroad because their products were targeted exclusively toward women and some of their patients had disappeared suddenly only to reappear several months later in a far corner of the galaxy. They had wondered who ran it and how it worked. To be part of the “railroad” machinery appealed to their egos. Accustomed to keeping secrets, the company’s network of medical sales people became the vanguard channeling abused and distressed women from the health clinics the company served into the “railroad” and to safety.

  Upon returning to the Academy, Rachel and Wendy were promptly called on the carpet for speaking to the news media without authorization. The punishment was minor because their comments had produced a sharp spike in recruitment. The light punishment had little impact on their lives partly due to the fact that they were intently focused on their class work. They found, much to their surprise, that Isaac and Joshua understood many of the concepts they were studying and could offer considered advice on classroom material. In spite of Joshua’s reservations when they first met, they did find the time to correspond electronically almost every day. As Wendy often commented, it is amazing what you can do if you are motivated.

  Over a hundred Academy cadets had been involved in the Saturn Industries move. Until they returned to campus, few of them knew who any of the others were. They were gathered and debriefed by the Academy staff after the term started. Unlike the debriefing they had endured at the completion of the mission, this debriefing was focused on whether what they had learned at the Academy properly prepared them for the field conditions they met during the operation. Opinions varied amongst the students as well as the faculty and the discussions frequently became heated as deeply held beliefs were challenged. The discussions provided Wendy and Rachel an opportunity to openly discuss among peers and experienced officers their actions in the battle and receive vindication for their strategies.

  The discussions at the Academy following the Saturn relocation had finally ground to a halt when Rachel and Wendy received a request to appear at the Academy’s health clinic. The receptionist directed them to the office of one of the clinic’s psychologists.

  They entered the office to be greeted by a short round man who appeared to be in his sixties.

  “Ladies, thank you for coming.” He read their expressions of concern and smiled his most benign smile. “Many of your colleagues who were in the Saturn project have exhibited symptoms of post-traumatic stress. I have interviewed them and have helped them deal with their conditions. Their tales of battle are quite harrowing. It is easy to understand why they might feel as they do. However, neither of you are showing such symptoms. I would like to know why that is. Were your battles not as difficult as theirs? Please tell me about your missions in detail so that I may understand.”

  Rachel inconspicuously opened a comm link to Faye Anne. There was no legitimate reason this man should be asking this question.

  Wendy sneered, “You want us to brief you on the details our missions so you can help us deal with them better?”

  “By understanding your missions I can better help you deal with the trauma.”

  “Trauma we’re not having?”

  “Perhaps it is sublimated.”

  “Our missions have nothing to do with anything! If you trained people better, you wouldn’t have this problem. They’re soft, weak, fat and lazy! What do you expect! We’ve been training for this our entire lives. You can’t expect pampered newbies to just jump into combat without stress. You give them a school system that is so dumbed down that any lame brain can graduate with honors and you throw them without any preparation into life threatening situations and then you’re surprised that they don’t do well! What kind of stupidity is this?”

  Rachel looked at her sister in shock. She had never heard Wendy verbally attack anyone let alone a superior even if he was a civilian.

  The psychologist looked down at his note pad. “Aggressive,” he said as he wrote a note.

  “Damn straight we’re aggressive! We’re warriors, born, bred and trained to be warriors. We’re the best and damn proud of it! If you want good soldiers you have to start them young. You can’t throw wimps into battle and expect them to emerge unscathed.” She paused and scanned the man’s notes reading them across the desk. She looked the man in the eye. He averted his gaze. “You listen here, Dough Boy! Don’t patronize us with your superior attitude.”

  The psychologist looked up from his notes. “I apologize. I underestimated you.”

  “Apology accepted!”

  “I had already come to the same conclusion about our training and was seeking confirmation.” Wendy stood. “Then, I guess we’re done.”

  “No, the other reason I called you was to talk about your mother.”

  The girls silently registered their surprise.

  “I performed the tests that convinced the Force to send your mother to the Academy.”

  Wendy cut him off. “I guess you expect us to thank you for that since if you hadn’t done that she would not have met our father.”

  “I had not thought of that. That’s not it. I understand your parents have been given a special diplomatic assignment. This assignment will put her in a high stress situation which could be disastrous for her mental condition. Has she been exhibiting delusional or violent tendencies lately?”

  “No more than normal,” Wendy replied.

  “Is she a danger to herself or others?” Rachel asked. “Is that what you mean?”

  “You may be the whiz kid that sent her to the Academy, but you damn sure don’t understand her,” Wendy continued.

  “I understand her better than you think,” the psychologist’s voice rose in anger. “She is a bipolar paranoid schizophrenic with homicidal tendencies.”

  “No shit, Sherlock! That’s the only reason she and we are still alive. Our mother has developed homicidal tendencies in response to her environment. They are a survival skill.”

  “I only want to help her.”

  “What? By giving her drugs that will make her so stupid and so slow that any preschooler with a pop gun could pick her off! I don’t think so!”

  “In her current condition she is a danger to the Federation!”

  “Excuse me?” Wendy’s eyes narrowed.

  “If she has a psychotic episode, she could ruin everything we have worked for. Based on your comments, I am certifying her as mentally incompetent to perform the duties as assigned and if you stop me, I will certify you as incompetent and have you locked up so tight that nobody can find you!”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Wendy saw Rachel calmly scratch the back of her neck. Rachel was smiling. Wendy found comfort in the smile. She knew that Rachel was teasing this man, gently and deliberately. There was no anger in her move, just an awareness that she was about to corner a dangerous animal.

  Wendy grinned the same grin her father used when he said, “It’s clobbering time.” Her eyes bored into the man. “If you were so concerned about our mother’s mental condition, why did you push so hard to get her to go to the Academy?”

  “She would have been a hazard to others in a regular unit.” The man was sweating profusely.

  “And she would have been less of a hazard as an officer?”

  “Yes.”

  Rachel removed her knife from its sheath and cleaned her already immaculate fingernails.

  “How so?” Wendy pressed the attack. Rachel watched the parlay with interest and amusement.

  “As an officer she could be assigned to a task that did not endanger others.”

  “Like P I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your reports were instrumental in getting her assigned to P I.”

  “
Yes, they were.”

  “At a time when the average P I pilot had a life expectancy of two years. And when pirates were killing more Space Force pilots than the Force was killing pirates?”

  “I, I guess so.”

  “So, you knew that by having her assigned to P I, you were signing her death warrant.”

  “I did no such thing!”

  “Why would you do that? Why would you want her dead? Why was it so important that you expended so much effort getting her assigned to P I where she would probably be killed? In fact, she almost was, several times,” Wendy challenged.

  Rachel leaned forward and placed her knife on the man’s desk. “Faye Anne tells me that there was an attempted rape incident when our mother was in Basic Training. Four men jumped her and her roommate on the way home from the Airman’s Club. She sent them to the hospital. Your brother was one of the men, wasn’t he?”

  Wendy turned to her sister and smiled. She turned back to the man behind the desk. “How badly was he hurt?”

  “Both his knees were shattered,” Rachel replied.

  “Sister, dear,” Wendy said. “Do you think the gentleman might have devoted all that energy to have her placed in harm’s way out of revenge for his brother?”

  “Perhaps. I remember Mom saying she was jumped several times at Basic and other than the ones she sent to the hospital, the assailants were never caught,” Rachel said.

  “Could it be that when your brother and his goons couldn’t remove her from the service, you had her moved somewhere where you thought she would be killed?” Wendy paused. “You know, I think I understand better than you think I do. I think there is even more to it than that. When our mother was assigned to Pirate Interdiction, P I pilots were being killed off duty as often as on. Most of that was in bar room brawls. Colonel Connors mentioned that trouble had a way of finding them. Might have been easier if trouble knew where to look.”

  Wendy leaned forward. “You knew who every P I pilot was and where they were assigned. I’ll bet you even had access to their patrol rosters. How many P I pilots died because of you?”