“They should meet at sunset in about eight hours,” Wendy replied.
“Excellent. I would like all four P I ships to escort the Edward R. Murrow. Determine if they can park on the surface of this moon or if they need to stay in orbit. Please alert the convoy escort ships that we have visitors. Have them prepared to take action should we need it. We don’t want them involved yet.” Faye Anne, Wendy and Alina left to their assigned tasks.
“Elizabeth? What to you think?” Rachel asked.
“Sometimes things are what they appear to be. Sometimes they aren’t. I don’t know.”
The four P I ships suddenly appeared in a perfect formation “around the clock” midships on the Edward R. Murrow. The converted Saturn Industries Class Seven freighter immediately hailed the four ships. The same voice that had been in the broadcast said, “Greetings Pirate Interdiction Warships. Have you come to escort us or to blow us out of the sky?” The tone was light and conversational.
“Greetings, Constant News Channel Studio Ship Edward R. Murrow. Please transmit your ship’s documentation, passenger and cargo manifests,” Alina replied with a strictly formal tone.
“Stand by for data transmission. Do I have the honor of talking to Captain Alina Darwin?” It was as if an electric charge passed through each of the eight people on the four little warships. If they could have looked at each other in shock they would have.
“Yes,” Alina answered.
“Your daughter, Sylvia, ended the first half year at the Academy in the top ten percent of her class. You should be proud. She is doing well.”
“How do you know this?” Alina asked.
“It’s my job. Just another day at the office,” the voice replied.
Buddy’s displays indicated successful receipt of the documentation and that the information it contained matched what his sensors said it should contain.
“Prepare to accept navigation data. You are cleared to proceed to the marshaling area. Can your ship land on Earth’s moon?”
“Yes.”
“Stand by at the marshaling area for further landing instructions.”
“Roger that!”
The four P I ships whisked out of sight at hyper speed while the studio ship proceeded at sub-light speed.
“They appear to be what they say they are,” Alina reported.
“I will grant her request for an interview in my conference room. Please see that Miss Turner and her support personnel arrive safely.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Jane Turner shucked her flight suit in the elevator from the hangar deck where her small shuttle craft had docked to the bridge deck. One of her assistants brushed out her long hair and checked her makeup. The two men with her checked their cameras and recorders. The Marines in the elevator with them watched in amusement.
Rachel rose to greet Miss Turner as he entered the conference room. “Miss Turner, welcome aboard the Stellar Interstellar Enterprises colony ship Queen Elizabeth.”
“After all these years, to finally meet you in person. I am honored. Your part in the Saturn Shipyard move was one of my first stories. May I record this?” She pointed to her two camera men.
“Rest assured that I will also record it,” Rachel replied.
“Excellent.” She turned to the camera man as she sat in a chair that put her at ninety degrees from where Rachel sat at the end of the table. The camera man quickly set up his tripod. When he was done he looked up expectantly. “Is it rolling, Bob?”
“Yes, Miss Turner, we’re rolling.”
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Jane Turner of the Constant News Network. I am in the Captain’s conference room adjacent to the command bridge of the Stellar Interstellar Enterprises colony ship Queen Elizabeth. With me today is Captain Rachel Solomon Cohen the commanding officer of this great ship. For security reasons, I will not divulge which star system we are in but that is not why I am here. Captain, you have had a long and varied career,”
“You make it sound like it’s over,” Rachel interrupted.
“Oh no! Not hardly! I hope not!” Miss Turner sputtered, caught off guard. She put away her data assistant with her notes. “Can we talk?”
“Please.”
“Many women in the Federation have followed your career through its twists and turns. Many of us wanted to be like you. You and your sister are partially responsible for the fact that the Federation Space Force now has more women pilots and officers than men.”
“When did that happen?” Rachel asked.
“While you were raising your family on Eretz. The fact that you could do the things that you did and then raise a family was an inspiration for thousands of women. Then, when your children were mostly grown, to go back to military action stunned women all over the Federation. You cannot have any idea how much impact your action at Stonebridge had on the women of the Federation.”
“That was Saul. That wasn’t me,” Rachel demurred.
“But this was you.” She slid a picture across the table. The picture had been captured from one of the cameras in the torture chamber at Stonebridge. It was taken seconds after Saul landed his first punch on Winthrop. Winthrop’s head was pushed to the side and distorted by the force of the blow. Saul’s face was contorted in anger. His fist was still next to Winthrop’s head as the punch followed through. Rachel’s face and part of her bloody body could be seen underneath Winthrop’s body. “What the women of the Federation want to know is how someone could survive that and go on to do what you do.”
Rachel sat in silence. All the pain, all the humiliation came back to her. All the tender therapy Isaac had done for her unraveled. She looked at the woman across the table and said, “I don’t know.”
Jane said, “I do. It’s the reason you will go on to win many more battles. It started with your parents, and you have passed it on to your children. I have followed your career all my life. The man your mother called ‘James Bond’, the man Faye Anne called for that particularly sensitive piece of information, that was my father. Swordsmen killed him ten years ago. They will be sorry they did that.”
“He was a good man,” Rachel said.
“He was a lying, cheating, two faced piece of garbage, but he was my father. Whatever else was true, he always loved me. He died saving me.” She shook herself for a moment. “But this is not about me. It is about you. Shall we start with your childhood on Homestead? I have been there, and it seems like an idyllic place to grow up.”
The conversation returned to safer ground. They talked about growing up with horses and space ships in the front yard. They talked about hunting pirates and being hunted by them. They talked about the wonderful women who had been rescued from the pirate base and who had been vital to the defense of Homestead in that first attack by the Swordsmen. They dwelt on the pain Rachel had felt when Myra Myrakova, her childhood friend, died an a suicidal maneuver, “up the pipes” against a battleship, a maneuver that she had barely survived herself.
They talked about the subsequent rescue mission to the Swordsman base and her decision to disable instead of destroying the Swordsman picket mother ship allowing hundreds of Swordsman personnel to live who otherwise would have died.
They spent an hour discussing the events at Eretz leading up to the confrontation there and the random acts of nature that brought together what would become a fiercely loyal and powerful combat team. Rachel had food and drink brought in. They continued the conversation into the first difficult year at the Academy. Jane was familiar with the Saturn Shipyard project, and so they talked about Rachel’s feelings during that mission. They devoted some time to the betrayal by one of her crew, and one action that would throw her into the public eye, the gentle slicing of his fingertip with her knife.
The themes of betrayal and bad intelligence played out in several of her early missions. Jane focused on her success in overcoming the challenges she faced, and what she later did to prevent these betrayals from happening again. Even then, once her missions settled in
to a successful routine, the Federation had stepped in and scuttled her plans.
They discussed Rachel’s feelings on hearing about the loss of her ship in battle and the subsequent joy of having the ship back even as battle damaged as it was. Rachel promised that Reuben would give the cameramen a complete tour of the current ship. The one question that Rachel dreaded, Jane did not ask. She did not ask if Rachel knew who was behind the “Third Force”, and Rachel was relieved when the conversation turned to the chaos of raising children in the combined households that were the Solomon and Abrams compound at Eretz. They spent a long time discussing child raising issues, especially Ellie Mae and Elvira’s insistence that all the children learn to cook. The funny stories of kitchen disasters brought tears of laughter to Jane’s eyes as well as her cameramen. The interview ended with the family’s departure from Eretz, but did not include Saul and Fiona’s whirlwind courtship.
At the end of the very long day, Jane said, “Thank you. You have been most gracious.” If I may discuss one more thing with you, please allow me to send my people away so we may talk in private.”
“Certainly.”
The cameramen and the assistants packed up and left. Jane handed Rachel a data module. “There is a Swordsman fleet headed in this direction. It will be here in three weeks. They want their women back. They have two old battleships, four cruisers, six destroyers, two carrier ships and an unknown number of troop transports. The inventory of their equipment and personnel as best we have it is on the module. The commander of the fleet is the man who ordered me killed and caused my father’s death. I want him killed. I don’t care who does it, but I will stay to document that it is done.”
“I can’t guarantee your safety,” Rachel said.
“I know that,” Jane assured her. “My crew have all lost people to the Swordsman. They have scores to settle. They know the dangers. Most of them sought me out. We’ve been covering wars for a long time. We know what we are doing.”
“I need to gather my team,” Rachel said.
“Haven’t they been listening all along?” Jane asked.
Rachel smiled. “Some have. Elizabeth!”
“Aye, Captain, the battle group is on its way,” Elizabeth reported.
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
“I am having food sent up.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth?” Jane asked, “are you a sentient ship?”
Elizabeth huffed. “Does everyone know our secret?”
“I can only speak for myself, but knowing you are sentient makes me feel more confident that we will survive the coming attack,” Jane admitted.
“We’ll see how you feel after the battle is over,” Elizabeth cautioned.
Before the rest of the battle group arrived, Rachel ordered all the children transferred to Peter. She dispatched a courier missile explaining the situation and calling for help. Even while the battle planning meeting was going on, the children assembled on Peter’s flight deck, and once they were settled, they jumped for the safety of Stellar Interstellar Headquarters. They had seen enough battles to know they wanted no part of this one.
The Colony Service convoy’s cargo and passenger transport ships were hastily unloaded and their contents transferred to the surface. As soon as the Colony Service cargo ships were unloaded, they were individually dispatched out of the system headed for Headquarters following in Peter’s wake.
COLONY SERVICE - CHAPTER EIGHT
AT A CLEARING in the forest mid way between the “crash” site and the colony, four identical tall blond men with hair over their shoulders dressed in shorts and sandals slipped past the Marine guard under cover of darkness. The Marines had known they were coming, but not when they would arrive. They were surprised to see the men in their camp sitting around the camp fire with the coming of dawn.
“Good Day! Lt. Rattigan!” One of the man reached out to help the big Marine to his feet. He spoke in heavily accented Federation Standard.
“Morning, Bucky!” Lt. Rattigan reached up and accepted the assistance. The two men hugged briefly. “Rescue is at hand!”
“Good morning, Miss Madison,” Bucky reached out his hand to help her up.
“Oh! Good morning Bucky.” She stood and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How are the girls?”
“Mad because I wouldn’t let them come and help find you,” Bucky said with a laugh.
Madison smiled. “Are you discovering the difference between raising teen aged girls and teen aged boys?”
“Sometimes they make me crazy, but I love them,” Bucky said.
General Tsarevich struggled to his feet without assistance. He addressed Bucky, “You’re a clone.”
Bucky, who was almost as tall as Rattigan and taller than Madison looked down on Tsarevich. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “And you’re a General.” He turned back to Rattigan, “You made good time with so much baggage.” He looked around the camp site. “It will be easier the rest of the way. We have cut the path. Shall we eat first or eat as we walk?” From his tone, he was impatient to be going and the desired answer was to walk now and eat later.
“We walk. Have your men lead. You and I should take the tail.” Rattigan looked at Newton who was slowly standing warily assessing the four blond warriors. Rattigan gently pulled Bucky toward Newton. “Retired Federation Marine Gunnery Sergeant First Class Oliver Newton, this is my friend Bucky and these are his men.”
The three other blond men who were engaged in conversation with others of the Marines waved and passed cheerful greetings. They were armed with over and under rifle grenade launchers that had been popular with special forces troops until the rifle part had been replaced by lasers. None of Tsarevich’s party was armed, an “oversight” of their quick departure.
The group headed down the cleared path. Newton held back so that he and Rattigan were at the end of the line. He appeared uncomfortable having any of the blond warriors behind him. When he and Rattigan were far enough away that he felt he could not be heard, Newton asked Rattigan, “How do you tell them apart?”
“Scars. They have battle scars from fights amongst themselves. Bucky has one on his upper lip that makes him look like he has buck teeth. That’s how he got his name. Most of their names come from their scars.”
“Oh.” They walked in silence for a moment. “You like them don’t you.”
“Yes,” Rattigan answered.
“Don’t you think that colors your judgment?” Newton asked.
“Perhaps.”
“Don’t you see that as a problem?”
“Look, Newton, I don’t like you and I do like them. If I had my choice between you as an ally or them, I’ll take them and their kind over you and your kind any day.”
“You could be courts marshaled for saying that,” Newton threatened.
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps?”
“Yeah, perhaps. Watch your step,” Rattigan said pointing to a tree root that crossed the path, but meaning more than that.
Newton took the hint and closed his mouth focusing his attention on the ground ahead.
During the day, two more pairs of identical blond warriors joined the group, silently appearing in the center of the line out of the thick forest. The ease with which these people moved through the dense foliage reminded Newton of the American Indians. The similarities were not lost on him. How much different would the American expansion to the west have been if the Indians had not been lied to, cheated and massacred at every opportunity? He had believed that Custer’s action at Wounded Knee was justified. Now, he was beginning to wonder if Custer had not made things worse instead of better.
They made camp that night on the top of a small rise that gave them a view of the mountains to their right and the ocean to their left. A clear night, they could see first one and then the other of the planet’s two small moons as they passed overhead.
In the morning they set out again and, as before, more pairs of blond warriors joined th
e troupe. The next night they camped against the side of a hill. In the darkness, more blond warriors appeared and clustered around the campfire. Throughout the day, more blond warriors continued to arrive until there were forty of them in the entourage. Late in the afternoon of the following day they crested a ridge and looked down on the settlement spread out on the river delta below.
As if on command, the forty blond warriors formed a circle around the group they had escorted to this place on the ridge. The Marines formed a circle inside the larger circle. The warriors and the Marines stood at Parade Rest with their weapons in the “port arms” position facing the center of the circle where Tsarevich and his group stood angry at this brazen challenge to their authority.
Bucky stepped into the center of the circle and faced Tsarevich. He took a deep breath and moved his weapon to his shoulder. “Lieutenant General Sergei Tsarevich of the Federation Colonial Service, sir, Boris Zarnovsky and Major General Anatole Dubrovnik Federation Colonial Service Retired have told us of your history in other colonies. I have watched recordings of your talk with Doctor Cohen on the ship Queen Elizabeth. I have listened to you talk with Mr. Newton, because no man tells me what to think. If you attempt to do what you told Doctor Cohen and as you talked with Mr. Newton, you will be sorry you ever set foot on this planet. If you help us become a full member of the Federation, you will retire a wealthy man. You choose.”
“Are you threatening me?” General Tsarevich challenged.
“My people do not threaten. We promise. We expect the same from you.” Bucky turned to Oliver Newton. “The only reason you are alive is because I told my men not to kill you. If you insult them again, I may not be able to prevent them from killing you. You know what you said and did. I caution you to mind your manners. I know you can bring the entire Space Force down on our heads. We learned the taste of defeat from a force much smaller than us. We would fall to your might, but with what we have learned since our defeat, we would make your victory painful. We are not stupid. We can learn and with proper training can take on your best.”
Solomon Family Warriors II Page 119