The Warlord Read online

  At the moment, Luke was getting impatient. For almost two weeks, he and his tattered mini-squadrons had maintained a silent position near fourth planet. As Katrina predicted, no one had come questioning the presence of a group of Phantom spacecraft. She returned to Suneuon Two to continue her reconnaissance.

  As the days passed, Luke controlled his urge to simply do something. He would wait, at least for a bit longer, until his hoped-for reinforcements showed up. Another thirty or forty Phantoms would go a long way in implementing his planned arrival on King Dracci’s doorstep.

  “They should be here by now,” Luke muttered to no one in particular.

  As if on cue Rickie announced, “Contact with Captain Lenny Holt. He is leading the group deployed by Captain Stone from Ebene Three.”

  “On screen,” Conner said.

  A middle-aged man with a self-satisfied grin came into view on the communications display. “This is Captain Holt of His Majesty’s First Royal Expeditionary Space Force. Greetings.”

  Luke got to his feet and faced the screen. “Lenny! Welcome to the Suneuon system. Looks like you and Dean managed to pull it together. You’ve got what, about…” Luke cast a quick glance at the tactical display and then did a double take.

  “That’s right, Commander. I took the liberty of calling us a numbered space force because we’re a lot bigger than a squadron. One hundred and fifty warships reporting for duty. Sir!”

  Luke gave Lenny a nonplussed look. “How in the world did Dean do that?”

  Lenny chuckled and answered the question. “It turns out that before she disappeared, your big sister, Princess Gimi, established an academy for space crew training. They don’t have combat experience, but Commander, I’m telling you these kids are really sharp.”

  “Come aboard Captain Holt,” Luke said with a grin. “I want to hear all about it. I was hoping to arrive at Suneuon with more than a squadron under my belt and it looks like you solved that problem.”

  At last, a bit of good news, Luke thought. He recalled Carrie telling him about an army of refugee children that Gimi had been raising. That must be the source of the trainees. Carrie had been impressed by their martial prowess. Thank God Gimi had upgraded their curriculum to something more relevant.

  *.*.*.*

  “So anyway,” Lenny concluded, looking around the conference table. “We split our existing crews amongst all the newbies to establish a bit of standardization. We promoted almost every single officer to squadron commander. I mean, even my old communication and navigation officers have their own squadrons now. At least they understand our chain of command and most of them have been through a couple of operational deployments. Yeah, we had to break in our new recruits at a fast pace, but these kids learn fast. Once they found out they would be serving under Princess Gimi’s kid brother and new king, they signed up en masse. She evidently told them you were coming and they were to support you without reservation.”

  “I guess they did,” Luke said.

  “They really did.” Lenny confirmed. “Princess Gimi is the one who gave them a home. To these kids, you’re family.

  Luke glanced over at Conner. Luke had not given the man enough credit. If all of Lenny’s previous shipmates had their own squadrons, Luke could not in good conscience deny Conner the same chance. “By the way, you are now commander of the 512th Dragons.”

  That brought a round of chuckles from the group and Conner replied a bit embarrassed. “That you, Commander. I will live up to the responsibility.”

  “Chain of command,” Luke said, going back to the conversation at hand. “We’ve just gotten big enough to make it an issue. We also need to establish a command structure commensurate with our objectives.”

  “What are our objectives?” Grant asked.

  “Getting Annie back?” someone down the table asked.

  “No,” Luke said clearly. “That’s my personal goal, of course. But that particular item has nothing to do with the Milky Way Alliance. We initially came out here on an administrative errand. But the situation has changed. As you can all see, the political structure that held the galaxy together is falling apart. In just a few months these Booker ships have become a scourge across what used to be a peaceful society. It’s like someone giving modern weaponry to the Dalton Gang in the old west.”

  “Is our objective to get rid of the Booker ships then?” Conner asked.

  Grant answered the question. “It’s broader than that.” He looked at Luke. “Do you want to save the Nobility or replace it?”

  Luke nodded at the way Grant summed it up. “We’re going to save it. It may take some shaking up, and I plan to do some weeding among the royal families. Where I see rot, we’ll pull them out. Where they need help, we’ll prop them up.”

  Grant cast a skeptical glance around the table. “That’s a tall order, even with a hundred fifty ships.”

  Luke speared Grant with an enquiring glare. “How do you eat an elephant?” he asked.

  Everyone at the table answered Luke’s often asked question in a chorus. “One bite at a time.”

  Grant looked sheepish as he joined in with the answer. “Okay,” he added. “So what’s the next bite?”

  “Just what I said, establish our command and control. However, we need to think bigger than before. Lenny helped us along by showing up with such a large force. It means a lot of promotions. Lenny, you will maintain command of the First Expeditionary Space Force. That’s a billet for a Major General. Congratulations.” Luke applauded and that started a hearty round of applause from everyone at the table.

  “Thank you, Commander,” Lenny replied with a grin. “I will work hard to merit your confidence in me.”

  Luke turned to Grant. “Sorry bub. Not only do you have the most seniority around here, and in spite of your cynicism, you’re too good at organization.”

  “Oh, no,” Grant responded. His face screwed up as though he were about to get a pie in the face.

  “I’m afraid so. Everyone, please congratulate our new Chief of the Royal Air Staff. Major General Grant Jefferies.”

  Another round of applause filled the room.

  Luke continued. “Grant, your new job includes commanding the Royal Escort Group which will be composed of the 512th Dragons and the 92nd Skull Heads. We’ll flesh out both squadrons by stealing ten ships from Lenny. I’m going to move aboard Valentine and take over your VIP quarters. The Escort Group will be my personal guard. As we get into things like local regime change, I’ll need a trained force around me.”

  “Understood, boss.”

  “You may want to interweave some of your more experienced troops with Lenny’s outfit. You two discuss that. But keep enough back so my escort is not all kids.”

  Grant turned to Lenny. “We keep calling them kids and orphans. How old are they?”

  Lenny explained. “We accepted ground troops as young as eighteen. That’s equivalent to your average American army grunt back home. By the way, we’ve got a full complement of soldiers on each ship. The officers are all between twenty and twenty-five years old. That’s slightly younger than our typical officer candidate, but these Suneuon kids are rock solid. As good as anyone we get from Earth. Better, I’d say.”

  Someone else down the table asked, “Is it fair to take these children and put them into combat? Do their parents know?”

  Luke sighed. So much information got lost between the cracks. The history of these so-called children and their story had even been broadcast on Earth news stations. But no one in attendance seemed to know about their background.

  “They’re orphans,” he explained to the room. “And not just because they lost their parents; most of them watched the Bakkui blow away their entire planet. They survived only to wind up as Second Family slaves and playthings for their soldiers. Princess Gimi took in more than a hundred thousand of them over the years. I’m not exaggerating when I say these children are more grown up than most of the adults in the Alliance.”

  He hadn’t
meant to come down so hard, but the sarcasm in his voice effectively shut off further questions. The meeting was over.

  Grant reminded the squadron commanders to review their staffing and dismissed the attendees. As everyone filed out, Luke heard a couple of whispered comments about how edgy the Warlord was acting these days. He made a mental note to throttle back a little. He wasn’t angry at his people, just the universe in general.

  Luke asked Lenny and Grant to stay to talk tactics.

  “So how are we going to attack?” Lenny asked bluntly.

  Luke smiled. “As you know, I’m a history major. You don’t always have to use violence. In the olden days, English monarchs used to take their entire entourage and visit feudal lords in their home castles. A royal visit was horrendously expensive for the lord, and disrupted any machinations against the throne. Let’s take a page out of that playbook. We’re just going to pay the king a royal visit. The people here need to realize the First Family is still alive and kicking.”

  Grant nodded. “The size of our force is going to have them on guard when we arrive. How will you handle that?”

  “I don’t have to,” Luke said with a grim face. “My question is, how will King Dracci’s court respond to a visit by the new king of the First Family?”

  *.*.*.*

  “Suneuon Approach, this is General Grant Jefferies, commanding the royal escort of His Majesty King Lucas. How do you read?”

  An officious looking man in a gaudy uniform filled the communications screen. “Calling approach, hold your position until we make positive identification.”

  Grant laughed at the screen. “Suneuon Approach. The First Family does not wait for bureaucratic trivialities. Inform King Dracci at once so he may prepare to receive his king.”

  Luke relaxed in the observer’s seat and listened to the exchange. Grant’s astonishing claim was quickly booted up Suneuon’s chain of command.

  A new face appeared on the screen. “Approaching vessel. Hold your position. King Peyha is dead. There is no First Family.”

  “Treason!” Grant countered brusquely. “How dare you make such a preposterous statement? Prepare to receive our authentication.” He looked at the ceiling. “Send verification, Valentine.”

  “Authentication sent,” Valentine responded instantly. “I confirm it was received by the planetary AI, Yulae.”

  “Here come the minders,” Grant observed as a dozen yellow diamonds appeared on the tactical display. The Suneuon ships they represented were moving toward Valentine.

  “Ships confirmed as orbital police,” Valentine said.

  “I don’t see this as a serious problem.” Grant told Luke as he faced the communications screen. “Approach control, be advised purple airspace is in effect. Any intrusion into His Majesty’s flight path will be considered an act of sedition.”

  Luke originally learned about royal airspace when he flew in England, back on Earth. Whenever the Queen flew from one place to another, the British government declared all the airspace around her as prohibited. Luke was not surprised to discover the Nobility had a similar arrangement.

  Unfortunately, the concept didn’t deter the approaching spacecraft.

  “Battle stations,” Grant said.

  The sixteen individual squadron clusters came apart into a hundred and sixty warships all flying in a V formation. Seconds later three hundred fighters formed up on their flanks.

  Grant asked, “Are Dracci’s police interceptors controlled by Nobility AIs?”

  “Three of them are,” Valentine replied. “The other nine are modified Booker vessels.”

  “Give the AI’s a royal command. If they approach within two light-minutes, they are to destroy the Booker vessels. Make sure you copy approach control.”

  “It is done,” Valentine acknowledged.

  “And give the Booker icons a different color. Make that a standard from now on. Show Nobility AI vessels in white.”

  The tactical screen displaying the approaching interceptors changed accordingly. Three white triangles appeared, depicting the Dracci’s AI spacecraft. The nine remaining yellow diamonds were identified as hostile. Moments later the white triangles broke formation and yellow icons quickly turned red.

  Grant nodded at the display. “Order all orbital police to land immediately. I don’t want them getting in our way.”

  “Orders given and acknowledged,” Valentine replied.

  The man on the communications display was apoplectic. “Approaching vessels, hold your position! Acknowledge my instru—What!”

  A subordinate was yanking on the man’s shoulder and pointing to updated information. His voice was audible on the transmission. “Look at how many ships they have,” he urged.

  The official’s face paled and he cast a worried glance at the camera.

  Grant barked at the man. “Have you notified King Dracci that King Lucas is arriving? What are you doing, man? Quickly!”

  The approach control officer sputtered a denial and tried to insist that it was not for a visitor to King Dracci’s homeworld to issue commands.

  Luke rose and stepped into the camera’s show. “Never mind,” he told the confused officer on the screen. “I’ll do it myself. Valentine, conference this call with Yulae.”

  “Connecting,” Valentine said.

  Luke smiled at Grant. “These idiots started a rebellion while depending on royal artificial intelligence. No wonder the First Family rules everything. They have a chokehold on the entire system.”

  “You can’t fight city hall,” Grant quoted with a grin.

  “Too true.”

  “The planetary AI is patched in,” Valentine said.

  Luke spoke to the communications screen. “Greetings, Yulae. You know who I am, correct?”

  “You are His Majesty King Lucas the First, by the grace of God, Sovereign of the First Family, Warlord of the Milky Way Alliance…” Yulae recited all of Luke’s titles, finishing with, “Youngest son and beloved offspring of the Great and Royal King Peyha the Second!”

  “That’s correct,” Luke replied, amused for a change by the fanciful description.

  The officials in approach control had heard the same language and were now arguing with each other.

  Luke ignored them and said to Yulae, “Inform King Dracci that we are arriving and that he should prepare to receive us. It is our desire that the king and his ministers will pay us homage.”

  Yulae responded instantly. “His Majesty King Dracci has been notified, Your Majesty. Welcome to the homeworld of the Fourth Family.”

  “Also, Yulae, please order all other spacecraft in this system to land immediately so we might avoid any further misunderstandings.”

  “The command has been given, Your Majesty.”

  Grant examined the tactical display. White triangles began winking out as they touched down on the planet’s surface. A few yellow diamond icons stubbornly maintained their orbit. “Yulae, why are those spacecraft not landing?” he queried.

  “They are non-AI controlled vessels. It is my understanding you refer to them as Booker spacecraft. I have no ability to direct their activities.”

  “Did you inform the crews?”

  “The captains were given His Majesty’s command, but they choose to ignore it.”

  Grant raised his eyebrows to Luke who said, “Have those ships destroyed immediately.”

  Grant nodded and moved to the tactical station. “Valentine, patch me to Captain Holt.”

  “Connected.”

  “Lenny, have your fighters clear the system of all Booker vessels. They are confirmed hostile.

  “Got it.”

  Fighters from three squadrons surged forward and began engaging the recalcitrant Bookers with guided missiles. The opposition’s defensive fields were useless. Two of the Bookers fired back before being hit by Luke’s forces. In less than two minutes the Alliance missiles made mincemeat of the ungainly spacecraft…and their occupants.

  “Lenny, Grant again. Have one o
f your squadrons deploy as AWACS.”

  “You got it,” Captain Holt replied.

  An unknown voice came in over the speaker. “Check the planet! Incoming!”

  Valentine’s voice stepped on the caller’s last word. “Enemy spacecraft launching from the surface. I count one-hundred-eighty-five currently and with additional vessels likely. Two-hundred-thirty-three now.”

  Grant examined the tactical display. “Lenny, can you take care of those bogies? They are identified as hostile.”

  “Affirmative. Thirty-First and Thirty-Fifth Phantom Wings and their fighters will engage at this time. I confirm you have designated them as hostile.”

  Grant said, “It looks like they’re trying to escape.”

  “Three hundred Bookers now,” Valentine supplied.

  “You want me to take them out or let them go?” Lenny asked.

  “We want to make a point,” Grant replied. “Pursue and destroy what you can, but stay in system.”

  “Thirty-Six Wing, you too.” Lenny called out. “Follow me,”

  A flurry of Phantom spacecraft and their outrigger fighters rushed toward the battle. Lenny’s voice began assigning sectors to his force commanders. The remaining Alliance forces closed up on Grant’s squadron, providing a solid barrier to anyone who might wish to challenge the royal flagship.

  There was no maneuvering between Lenny’s warships and his targets. Instead it was a race. The Bookers formed an arrow-like formation of fleeing spacecraft, accelerating away from the planet. Clustered together, their shields overlapped each other offering redundant protection to those on the inside. It was suicidal for those exposed Bookers; they quickly succumbed to the Phantom’s withering fire, but the sacrifice was enough to allow a few of their illicit brethren to escape.

  “I didn’t get them all,” Lenny radioed.

  “We made our point,” Grant responded. “Come on back and rejoin.”

  “Copy that. All Phantoms rejoin on the King.”

  In what appeared to be a choreographed display, the Phantoms returning from combat raced toward Valentine, first rejoining into groups of two or four. The smaller groups gradually combined into squadron formations of ten Phantoms with twenty fighters on their flanks.