Free Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) by T. Jackson King

wished he could leave behind some nuke warheads as calling cards, Jacob had ruled that out. Maybe Alicia in Science could find a way to talk with these wasps, either by cartoons or by pheromone signaling. He hoped there could be talk-talk with the aliens. It was his duty to protect the civies on Valhalla and to defend his shipmates on the Lepanto and the Sea . If talking in smells could prevent future human deaths, he was all for it. But anyone who got in his way now would end up like the fleet’s senior officers had ended up. He hated sneak attacks. That had been a sneak attack. Maybe the boardings by his Darts and Marines would teach the wasp leader of this ship a lesson. Blood always spoke louder than words.
     
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    “Alert!” scent screamed the within nest Servant. “Our nest has been struck by three Soft Skin flying nests. Soft Skins are inside the nest!”
    Hunter Seven’s five eyes took in the color images from two perception imagers. One showed his nest’s exterior shell as viewed from the still intact rear weapons ring. The propulsive ends of the invading nests stuck out from the hard shell of his nest. The other imager showed an interior tubeway. Yellow flame entered the tubeway from a closed entry. Which clearly had been defeated. The flame was followed by the white shape of a Soft Skin. The size of the Soft Skin surprised him, then he realized the creature was wearing some kind of metal protection against the dark airless cold of space. Three of his people flew into view. The intruding Soft Skin turned toward them and pointed its two chest arms. Flame shot from a tube on one arm while small black rocks flew out from the other arm. His Swarmers were enveloped in a globe of yellow flame. His spiracles stopped pumping in air.
    “The Soft Skin nest is flying away from us!” scent cast his Stinger Servant in a mix of signal, releaser and trail pheromones. “It is beyond the reach of our weapons.”
    The scents of alarm and fear came from several Servants within the Flight Chamber. Seven gasped, then resumed his breathing as the shock of the flaming death of his Swarmers lost its hold.
    “Fighter Leader!” he scent cast to the Swarmer who rested on a bench to one side of him. “Send Fighters against these Soft Skins! That group is close to the Nourishment Chamber. The group that entered our head portion is close to its energy node. The tail group might reach our propulsion device. Bite them all!”
    “Sending Fighters and Fighter Leaders,” responded the Swarmer in charge of protecting all castes of Swarmers within his nest.
    His flow of aggregation, signal and territorial pheromones flooded the chamber, overwhelming the fear scent. Seven looked to the Servant who handled within nest communications. “Servant, warn all Swarmers to shut their tubeway entries! Let us block our interior spaces to these Soft Skins.” He looked back to the Matron. Her two wings were fluttering, her body showing the same surprise he felt at the entry of creatures into their nest. “Matron, have your Servants and Workers block all entry to our larval Pods! We must shield our young from these ground crawlers.”
    “Yes!” she scent cast to him in a strong flow of aggregation and territorial pheromones. Her thorax arms touched a panel in front of her. “Sending warnings! Sending action scents!”
    Seven looked back to the several perception imagers that covered the chamber wall before him. In the deep past fellow Swarmers had sometimes invaded the nest clusters of other Swarmers, as part of a territorial takeover. But none of the tree-dwelling Soft Skins on his home of Nest had ever invaded a Swarmer nest that held millions of Swarmers. The tree thieves had learned ages ago that visiting a Swarmer nest brought swift stinging from dozens of Swarmers, stings that quickly killed any attacking creature. Now, the ancient past had visited his flying nest. He glanced to the within nest Servant.
    “Swarmer!