Gray Panthers: Dixie (17 page)

GP forward command post, planet Dixie

12 November 2128

General Black was in his first good mood since arriving on Dixie. He considered the battle for New Mississippi to be over. The only thing left was to find the stray wobblers. The main battle for the city had been anticlimactic, hunting down fleeing Jacka, who all tried to pull a rabbit on the same night. Casualties had been fewer than thirty dead and wounded. Time to move on to New Richmond.

“Connect me with Admiral Pierre Gustave Toutant-Beauregard,” Black ordered.

“General Black. I hear congratulations are in order,” the admiral gushed.

“Thank you, Admiral. I was hoping to get your permission to liberate the capital. Once we are able to free New Richmond, there will be enough soldiers liberated to retake the rest of the planet.”

“Yes, General, absolutely. Contact my staff for any support you may need.” Pierre was disgusted. First, video of him running around as a wobbler had been shared throughout the fleet. Now, the general from Earth would have all the glory for liberating Dixie. When this was all over, he intended to retire from the service and be a gentleman of leisure, perhaps visit Earth.

Arizona Space Ship Grub, heading for League of Planets space

12 November 2128

Colonel Blade entered the dining facility. He worried that he was actually going to get fat unless he was able to get back to a war. He saw Dan sitting at a table with some familiar items.

“Hello, Dan Daniels. What have you got there?”

“Just some of the booty from when we captured the first Libra ship back in 2126. This is a short sword. I’m told they have very sentimental value to warriors. I also have this black officer’s belt with a holster. Looks and feels like leather to me.” Dan passed the items to Blade, who recognized them as his own. He remembered how he had been forced to surrender them to the humans as part of the capitulation of his command.

“They look to be in good shape,” Blade said neutrally, suppressing the urge to ask for them back. The sword had entered his family’s possession three lines ago, when it was captured in combat. Since his great-great-grandfather, it had been worn by a Blade in combat.

“Colonel, it seems most of your people, even your son, has a first name. I have never heard yours. Do you have one?” Dan asked.

“I am known to my family and close friends as Sharp. I would be honored if you called me that.” Blade still couldn’t take his eyes off the sword in his hands.

“Well, Sharp, I’ll make a deal with you. If you call me Dan, I will call you Sharp, and I will give you that sword there in your hands to seal the deal.” Blade couldn’t believe that he once again would have his short sword back. It was a symbol of both his honor and his position as a leader of warriors.

“Sharp, you are my friend. You are free, as well. You may oppose or support my suggestion for the Jacka to be the fleet and army of the League of Planets. If you support the plan, your people will be the first trained. If not, I will see that they make it home safely with their short swords.” Dan slid the holster across the table, and Sharp saw that his sidearm was in there as well.

“Dan, you are a worthy friend. You have also proven your people to be true warriors. I would go into battle with you just to call you comrade.”

New Richmond, planet Dixie

13 November 2128

Master Sergeant McGuire was nervous. Everyone just knew it was going to be a walk in the park. The Red Coats were second stringers, at best. Soon, everyone would be on their way home.

“Five minutes out.” The shuttle pilot had the hatch open so they could talk more easily.

“Okay. Beamer check. Power setting is on one, function setting one. Weapons stay on safe until we have targets,” McGuire instructed. “Questions?”

“Any chance they can send the Bia for us to return on, so we don’t have to be so cramped?”

“What makes you think you’re going home? Get your minds around the here and now, folks. We don’t have a clue what to expect when we get to the target. If you’re not scared, you’re stupid! Now look alive and get ready to shake a leg.”

A beam of light melted through the floor and continued through the ceiling as the Gray Panthers looked on in amazement. Despite her nerves, McGuire was thankful for the shot. Her people were hard again and beginning to sweat.

Two miles out the shuttles would be on target in seconds. The fusillade of laser fire with missiles and projectiles all seemed to fire at once.

The shuttle in front of Scotty disappeared into a black cloud as he flew through the remains, slamming into shuttle debris and body parts. The sky was like a prison of red bars from the laser fire emanating from the city.

Scotty cursed himself for taking the place of a sick pilot. Never before had he seen incoming fire like this. Shuttles were dropping and blowing up all over the sky. It was suicide, and he wanted to see another day.

“Attention on the net. Signal is Cherry. Abort mission and RTB.” Scotty felt sick, knowing it was not his call to make. He banked hard as he headed for the deck, returning for home and the court martial to follow.

“AI, how many losses did we take?”

“The Gray Panthers lost twenty-eight shuttles, either damaged or destroyed. Army lost thirty-six.”

McGuire woke up and felt like she had been beaten to within an inch of her life. She was lying on the ceiling of her shuttle, which was half the size it had been. The walls were covered in blood, urine, and puke. The shuttle must have rolled when it went in, to be this banged up.

The initial inspection of the shuttle wasn’t good. Two troopers had been crunched into the corners when the shuttle collapsed while rolling. Three of her men lay with their heads at odd angles. The last four were just coming around. Two had broken leg bones sticking through their skin. One had a broken shoulder and couldn’t move his neck or right shoulder. The last one stood up and dusted himself off as he looked at his comrades.

“Well, Master Sergeant McGuire, I guess we aren’t going home too soon after all.” As he turned his head, a piece of metal pressed farther into his skull and he collapsed like a puppet that had just had its strings cut.

McGuire stood in fear. Her boys were dead and dying, and there was little she could do.

“Everyone, stay put and don’t move until I check your wounds. Anyone have a bleeder?” No one responded. “Good. We’re all going to get out of this.” She found what she hoped would be intact—her own unofficial aid kit she had assembled for the shuttle.

She plunged a pain med into the one trooper’s leg. He looked at her for ten seconds and then smiled and closed his eyes. Ordinarily, McGuire wouldn’t try splinting the leg, but she had her kit and knew it was the right thing to do. After pushing the bone back in, she pulled out a special nanite bandage and wrapped the wounded leg as tightly as she could. The nanites would immediately augment the man’s current nanites and help repair the damage.

As McGuire worked, the other trooper got out his knife and cut off his pants leg to clean the area around his wound. McGuire inspected his work and complimented him on it as she doped his leg, just before he passed out. She wrapped the leg tightly and sat back for a sip of water.

“Doing some good work there, Mildred. We’re going to go home because of you.” McGuire pushed a hair away from her eyes and smiled at the compliment.

“Honey, I was saving the worst for last. You must have done some good bouncing around.” She took her pain meds and injected the trooper in the shoulder. He dropped without another word. She cut away most of his uniform top. It took several nanite-infused bandages to wrap the entire area.

McGuire worked her way to the flight deck to check on the pilot. The whole area was awash in blood. The pilot was still strapped into his seat, but a projectile weapon had come through the floor and taken off his left leg. He had bled out quickly. McGuire noticed on the front of the flight deck that an artist had painted the name Guardian.

“Guardian, are you online?” McGuire asked hopefully.

“I am partially serviceable. Propulsion, life support, communications, and weapons are either off-line or disabled.”

“What is working, Guardian?

“Internal communications and entertainment.”

“Can you bring up a map of where we are and who our neighbors are?”

“We came down in a park. There are numerous Red Coats in the local area, in field-expedient fighting positions. Estimate there are thirty within a half-mile of our location. Examination of weapons used indicates Red Coats are using Dixie weapons. Most of those weapons have no energy signature until fired.”

“What do you give me for odds of getting my boys home?”

“I would not assign a numerical response to that question. The majority of the park has six-foot-high bushes, creating a variety of mazes that go on for miles. Your best chance, it would seem, is to stay in the shuttle and await rescue.”

GP forward command post, planet Dixie

13 November 2128

Scotty opened the back of the shuttle so the troops could get out while he remained locked in the flight deck. He was trying to process how many he had seen die.

Resigned to his fate, he pulled himself out of his seat. The hatch automatically opened to the back compartment, and the smell of sweat and urine was strong. A breeze was starting to clear out the smell, but it wouldn’t be enough.

Jumping down into the grass, he appreciated the fresh air and the smell of blossoms. He heard before he saw General Black heading his way. It was obvious that the general was furious, and his staff was staying a couple of steps behind him as he stormed toward Scotty.

Black grabbed Scotty and hugged him hard.

“Son, you saved a lot of lives today. The airborne mission commander and all flight leaders were taken out in the first enemy volley. The courage you showed in ordering the mission recall will be spoken of for years to come when warriors sit and speak of heroes.”

“General, I was afraid out there. I tucked my tail between my legs and ran,” Scotty admitted.

“You ran and took all our airborne assets with you. If you hadn’t, there’d be twenty people left living. I’m afraid I’m going to give you one of the toughest orders there is to give. Major, you are now a hero and will use that status to inspire your command. You are also the highest-ranking pilot alive.”

“Yes, sir. Can you have your staff please coordinate with Dixie Command and see what countermeasures we can use against their weapons?” Scotty walked away, no longer scared, just tired.

Gray Panthers headquarters, Arizona

13 November 2128

Abby looked at Commanders Johnson and Poland and regretted that he hadn’t suggested they bring Captain Young, as well.

“Gentlemen, the attack on Dixie was a direct result of an intel leak here on Earth. I do not believe the Republic is our enemy, but someone who was on that ship was able to ascertain the location of Dixie and pass it on to the Libra Alliance. We don’t know what other information they have, so we need to find who the agent was and pump him, her, it, whatever for all the information they found and then terminate the son of a bitch.

“I recommend that you go back to the Central Bank under the pretense of getting a receipt for our deposit. Leave as many faeries behind as you can so we can learn as much as possible. Use your ship’s AI to learn everything their bank’s AI knows.

“If you find that the damage committed was institutional, I want the bank taken out as a warning. If it was the work of an individual, I want him—or her—taken out, along with any proven associates. Any questions?”

“What happens if we start a new war?” Poland asked.

“Try not to do that. We’re still a little busy with the one we have now. When your mission is complete, you are to check on the status of Daniels’s mission and see if you can assist.”

“Daniels is in League space? What’s he doing there?”

“He is trying to get a treaty with the League of Planets. His idea is to have the Jacka become the League’s fleet and army. We will provide the ships and training.”

“Won’t that be a hard sell?” Johnson asked.

“Dan has an alternative plan he’ll offer the League if they decline his initial proposal. We will hire every damn mercenary on their home world. We will outfit them with the same ships and destroy the Libra Alliance. We will then proceed to capture every planet in the League and use the Jacka to administer each planet, raising taxes to pay for the cost of the Jacka’ protection, plus extra, until all our costs are paid for. Then we’ll have the Jacka administer their planets until their sun goes dim.

“Those bastards made it possible for the Libra Alliance to exist in the first place, because they fear war. With the Jacka, they’re going to have peace forever—one way or the other.

“Last surprise for you is that we have an expressway to League space. When the Grub crashed on Earth, it was because of an explosion inside the Hades Wormhole. Scientists assumed it would repair itself, but it didn’t. We have an active wormhole. You can give that information to no one except Dan, and only if you are in a secure area. Now remember how our own faeries work, so it could be a problem outside of our ships.

“I need you gone today. I will have your ship escorted to the wormhole. Once inside, you have a choice of two directions. We figure the opening is at the bottom of the hole, so when you enter at a heading of three hundred and sixty degrees you will immediately take a new heading of ninety degrees. At maximum impulse you should reach League space in a day.”

“What happens if we use the FTL?” Johnson asked.

“No one knows, but if you survive, you will be the first. I have a meeting I need to get to. If you have any questions, contact Admiral Bad. That reminds me. Your request for the alien on your crew to be an officer has been approved. Because of the unique situation with him, he is to be frocked to ensign, with all the rank and responsibility of an ensign. You will train him and observe his performance and then decide when the promotion is to be made permanent.”

“Thank you, Abby. I think he is already damn close to being able to accept the responsibilities of an officer,” Captain Johnson replied.

“By your leave, sir?” he requested.

“Good luck, and take care of Dan when you find him. I want him back so I can get out of his chair.” Abby laughed without any humor.