Confederation -- 19
Chapter 19
We had been busy trying to arm the shuttles during the following week. The work took place in orbit, and I didn't keep much track of what was going on down on the planet.
Arming the shuttles was always a bit of a problem. Their power supplies weren't compatible with the plasma weapons, and that created problems. The guns required a high voltage to charge them. The Sunnys had created power packs to make them portable, but each power pack was only good for a few shots. That might have worked for the Pugs in the past; they'd used armed shuttles to strafe planets, but I didn't think returning to base after having fired five or six shots was efficient.
The problem kept the Sunny engineering crew busy installing transformers and some other stuff that I didn't understand. By the time they were done, the shuttle-mounted guns could fire until the shuttle power was down to thirty percent of max. Then a relay cut out, and the gun could no longer shoot until the system had recovered somewhat. This was necessary to ensure that the shuttle's engine didn't suddenly shut down. Crashing on top of people you'd just been shooting at would be an embarrassing and potentially fatal thing to do.
We'd finally finished with the shuttles and then loaded the yeast, along with some industrial-quality spray equipment that had been discovered in a warehouse. So far, the Sunnys had adapted the sprayers to one of the mid-sized shuttles.
We had three sizes of shuttles. There were four small ones, like the one I'd given Jake, along with the really large shuttle that we carried on our ship. The rest were a step above the small craft, carrying a strike force of ten or possibly twelve unarmed passengers.
The work crew had installed a holding tank on one of these latter and welded a rack of spray heads across the bottom of the midsection. Fortunately, the shuttle engine provided plenty of power for the dual pumps to spread the yeast evenly over an extensive area using successive passes back and forth.
I'd had the tank loaded with water, and one of the Sunnys flew the craft in the vicinity of our FTL's orbital path with the pumps running. The results were spectacular. The water droplets instantly formed a fine cloud of ice crystals that refracted the sun's rays in a magnificent rainbow.
It didn't last long since the tiny crystals quickly sublimated into an even finer gas and became invisible. Some of the Sunnys were watching through the bridge windows, and the display created a real stir among them. They whistled and stomped their feet appreciatively as the rainbow took shape. The test was an unequivocal success as far as I was concerned. I wanted to try the rig on the unsuspecting Pug-bears in the worst way.
The Motherland Army had continued its incursions, moving closer and closer to the Front Range area while we were busy. I wanted to take off to rescue the Sunnys, but Jake practically begged me to bring all of our shuttles down to discourage the invaders.
We held a brief meeting on Rudy's ship and agreed that we should help him before we went gallivanting off across the galaxy. I thought we could fly sorties for a couple of days and drive the Motherland people back. This would give Jake time to work on his defenses. It wasn't like he was unarmed, either. His men had raided some old military installations and had some heavy field pieces along with a large number of BGM-71 TOWs. These were anti-tank weapons with optical guidance. They'd been stored in a secure facility that had been protected against EMP effects due to a built-in Faraday cage, a fine mesh of grounded copper wire. The electronics still worked, although the battery power was a little chancy.
Taken together with the artillery, the smaller weapons seemed like they would stop anything short of a major push. At the moment, neither Jake nor I thought the Motherlanders were up to such an attack.
He told me, "Dec if you'll try to strafe those guys so that their raiders fall back a couple of hundred miles, I think I can spare you long enough for you to finish off the aliens. I don't like this fighting on two fronts at once thing, though. One would think that fighting off alien space invaders would be something that would take precedence for all humans, but I've got to deal with these barbarians."
I agreed, "You're right. Getting rid of the Pug-bear threat is important for human survival. These left-over government gang members, or whatever you want to call them, are a severe pain in the rear. It's shortsightedness like that that almost makes me think that humans don't deserve to survive."
The next day, we started flying patrols out over the plains to the east. The raiders were usually in small groups, and since they liked to burn things, they were relatively easy to find. They contributed to their demise by shooting at us, revealing their positions. The shuttles were pretty much impervious to rifle bullets; they had to be tough since there was always the possibility of being hit by a micro-meteor. That type of impact would be at a far higher velocity than a rifle could generate.
We quickly developed the tactic of using one high-flying shuttle as a spotter. Once a group was located, the spotter would call in a low-altitude strike by a second shuttle loitering along a few miles behind. This worked very well. The plasma guns could fire maybe five times in the time it took us to make a run. The results of the shots were telling. We destroyed almost every group that we saw.
We had almost as much luck the second day, but the word must have gotten around by the third day. The raiders were apparently moving back to the east, just as Jake desired, and a little harder to spot.
Whistle and I were flying one of the small shuttles. It had room for three, but there were just the two of us. His job was to fly, and I fired the gun when necessary. He'd gotten over part of his anti-violence attitude and was developing into a decent combat pilot.
We'd been flying for several hours, and it was late afternoon. Our spotter had run short of fuel and returned to base. We should have gone with him, but just as the Sunny pilot called to signal that we should return, we flew over a farmstead, and I looked down.
What I saw took all thoughts of leaving entirely out of my mind. The place was overrun with maybe a hundred of the Motherland gang. They had dragged the farmer and his family out into the center of the yard and had them down on their knees in a row with men pointing pistols at the back of their heads. It looked like a mass execution.
The thing that made it worse was the family was a large one with several children, and the kids were also lined up to be shot. We circled around, and then I saw something that absolutely set me off. The family was being forced to watch while two of the daughters were raped in front of them.
"Whistle, circle around again, and prepare for a firing run."
"Okay, Dec, I don't like what we see down there. We got to stop it," he answered. He was definitely becoming more human-like.
We came in on a firing pass, and I started the weapon. The first three shots were right into a large mass of the invaders, and the second two took out several more on the other side of the farmyard.
They started shooting at us as we came over the hill, and several of the shots bounced off our hull. The firing slowed as our shots took effect, and then we were too far away for them to hit us.
"Let's make another pass and see if the family can be rescued," I said.
We came back the other way, hopeful that we could do something, but the commander down there was vindictive. The prisoners were all lying on their faces, unmoving. The soldiers had shot them as we went past.
Whistle came back around without being told, and we shot up the place thoroughly. As we headed over the south hill, something exploded against our underside, and the shuttle bucked violently.
They'd had some kind of shoulder-launched missile, maybe a Stinger or something. The shot had taken dire effect. Our engine sputtered and then died. Whistle did his best with the control surfaces, and we skidded into a large, flat pasture, ripping the barbed wire fence down as we came in next to a large pond.
"Get out now!" I ordered. "They'll be here in a few minutes, and they won't be happy."
We jumped out of the shuttle, and I locked the hatch cover closed. I doubted that they could do more damage to the ship than they'd already done, and I wanted to keep them out of it since it might be salvageable.
We ran over to the pond. There were no trees anywhere in sight and nothing other than the pond dam to hide behind. I knew that wouldn't work for long. It was obvious where we'd gone, so I started looking for the best cover I could find.
The enemy showed up before I got settled. They came at a run, and I started shooting with my splinter gun. It was the only weapon I carried, and I was not expecting to be shot down. It was small and didn't interfere with comfort when sitting in one of the narrow shuttle seats.
I was holding them off pretty well, although they were pretty safe from the splinters if they stayed back a hundred yards or so. The little weapon didn't carry very far. The splinters were just too light.
We were at a stalemate for a while until the sunset. I was still shooting at what I could see of them in the twilight when I realized that Whistle wasn't beside me. I looked around for him and saw a man towering up to my right. I rolled and shot the guy, but another one had sneaked along the base of the dam, and he hit me from behind with something. My eyes flashed, and things went black.