Gray Panthers: Dixie (10 page)

Arizona Space Ship Grub, departing Earth space

3 November 2128

Dan was surprised by how quiet and comfortable the Grub was, though he was nervous about the whole mission he’d set up for himself. Abby had threatened to mutiny when Dan told him he would be in charge during Dan’s absence, but he finally conceded when Dan said he would put the Gray Panthers under the Pentagon until his return. Though Dan’s original intention was to go alone, he subsequently agreed to allow a couple squads of Gray Panthers to accompany him, and Colonel Blade was along to help negotiate with the Jacka.

“I appreciate you coming with me, Colonel. Can I offer you a drink?”

“Thank you, Dan Daniels. I will have what you are having.”

“I was going to have a soda. I know that doesn’t agree with Jacka physiology. How about one of your son’s favorites, from what I hear—milk, straight up?”

“That would be fine, Dan Daniels,” Blade replied absently as he looked about the cabin.

“Here you go, Colonel. A toast, to absent friends.” Dan watched as Blade took an initial sip of his drink.

“My son has good taste in drinks. Just as he made a wise decision to join the Gray Panthers. Your plans for the League of Planets and my people will change the galaxy as we know it.” Blade took a strong swig of his milk and plopped down in his chair.

“General, what would your people do if I recommended Short Blade as admiral of the fleet? I have found him to be intelligent and courageous. I can see to it that he is trained before the fleet is assembled. I believe the experience he has garnered already makes him a good candidate.”

“I wish it were so easy. My son is a runt. He is usually tolerated, at best, in our society—even as my son. That is why he was the only Jacka on a Libra ship. In our society, once every year a subordinate may challenge a leader for right of position. My own people under me do the same. Those that want to challenge for leadership come together and draw straws to see who will get to perform the challenge. The only thing the leader can do is choose the weapons or accept forfeit.” Blade reached for the new glass of milk Dan offered him.

“Would your people be able to assimilate the technology into your culture? Your mercenaries use many advanced weapons but don’t seem to take advantage of their benefits in combat.” Dan sat and sipped his soda.

“Our people are a good people. We do what we must to support them,” Blade belched loudly and licked the inside of his empty glass.

“Blade, would your clans accept a unified command, where all the warriors were mixed together under one color instead of strictly by clan?”

“They would be open to suggestions and offers that benefit their clans directly. Our warriors have had no problem working together in the past, even after being on opposing sides previously in battle.” Blade had begun to slur a little. He smiled, showing his huge fangs.

“If we made your planet more habitable by decreasing the arid areas and replacing them with forests and agricultural lands, would that be an acceptable offer?”

“My friend Dan, they would be ec, ec, ecst … happy with yoose for dat.” Blade rested his head on the table and within seconds a loud snore escaped.

“I guess I should switch to one percent instead of whole milk.” Dan said softly. “Sorry, my friend. Enjoy your nap.”

Dixie ship Texas, in Dixie space

3 November 2128

General Black was warmly welcomed by Captain Perkins as he stepped from the shuttle. A moment later they all gave the shuttle a wide space.

“I see you spent the whole five days in your shuttle, General. The captain of the Georgia didn’t offer you the hospitality of his ship?” Perkins asked.

“I could not in good conscious accept that hospitality while my people were cooped up in their shuttles. In years to come it will be one of the stories our people tell when warriors gather. Now, can we be of assistance to your people, Captain?” Black asked as he was escorted into a briefing room.

“General, I’m going to put my cards on the table. Before the Libra left, they infected the population of the planet. We sent shuttles down a couple days ago from the Atlanta. Today it appears the entire ship is infected. To the best of our knowledge, the plague is spread by body fluids. We do not believe it is airborne.

“To make the problem worse, the Libra’s mercenary army of Jacka is still on the surface. They seem to be immune to the plague. The Jacka were manning one of our self-defense batteries when they shot down one of our shuttles. That battery was surrounded by our infected people, and the Jacka were being ignored.”

“So, we need to go in, kill the bad guys, and save the sick good guys?”

“It’s worse than that, General Black. See for yourself.” Perkins turned to an assistant and said, “Please play our media from the shuttle rescue and then a clip from the Atlanta’s bridge.”

When the media ended, everyone sat in silence waiting for Black’s remarks, knowing it would be a game changer for their Earth ally.

“Damned if they ever taught that in Command and General Staff College,” Black said at last. “So, we need to kill the bad guys, rescue the sick good guys, cure the good guys, and not get turned into zombies. We’ll start with New Mississippi. It’s geographically separated from any other cities, so the Jacka will have a hard time reinforcing their troops there.”

“General, are you sure?” Perkins asked incredulously.

“My people just spent five days cramped into oversized porta-potties. If I told them, ‘Things look too tough and we’re going home,’ what do you think they would do? They’d do the same thing I’d do—they’d revolt. Besides, this way gets them out of those porta-potties and into fresh air, with room to move around.”

“General, we’ll provide any support you need. Please do not hesitate to ask.” Perkins sighed in relief.

“I’ll need you to provide me with a liaison staff, including communications, medical staff, and personnel familiar with the area. I’ll be issuing the initial drop order for my people in an hour. Just give me a spot to start from.” Black rose, shook hands, and let himself be escorted back to his shuttle, where a dozen of the ship’s crew were milling around with his staff. The shuttle’s interior no longer emitted a toxic odor.

“What are your orders, sir?” Black’s operations officer, Colonel Piper, asked as Black rejoined his staff.

“You are not gonna believe this ….”

Outside New Mississippi, planet Dixie

3 November 2128

Sam was uncomfortable in the role of ground commander and was getting frustrated. The scouts were sharp, and she feared making any mistakes.

“Don’t sweat the small things,” Scotty advised. “You have good troops here, and most important, a good NCO. Just keep them safe, fed, and away from anything stupid, and you’ll be good to go. Have you tried to contact the fleet lately?”

“No. I don’t know if they are ignoring me or if I just can’t get through,” Sam answered as she finished cleaning her revolver.

“Too bad my wrist computer isn’t compatible with your system. Here,” Scotty said as he held out his arm to Sam. “Just press this button and request directory, and then select who I want to talk with.” The computer began to beep as the screen filled with all two thousand names of the personnel on the shuttles.

“Wow. We’ve got a little company. Computer, send a message to the air liaison officer. The message is ‘Scholl, Scotty, Lieutenant, call sign Dart Nine, is on the ground with friendlies,’ end message. Notify me when message is received and notify me when I receive any messages.” Pulling his sleeve back down and looking at Sam, he said, “I think life just got interesting.”

It wasn’t long before Scotty’s wrist computer emitted a ‘ zzzt’sound.

“Looks like I got my first call. Dart Nine.”

“Dart Nine, select secure on your communications and confirm.”

“Communications now secure.”

“What was the name of your first pet?”

“Spot.”

“Where did you go to grade school?”

“West Salem.”

“Red five?”

“Five of hearts.”

“Stand by, Dart Nine. Welcome to the net.” A minute later a new voice connected.

“Dart Nine, this GP Actual.”

“GP Actual, go ahead.”

“Give me your location and status.”

“One mile south of New Mississippi, overlooking main thoroughfare into the city. Have attached myself to a unit of Dixie scouts.”

“Dart Nine, how are the neighbors?”

“City appears to be under new management. Old owners are walking the streets. Appear to have rabies.”

“Be ready to have friendly visitors from out of town.”

Arizona Space Ship Grub, en route to League of Planets space

4 November 2128

Dan was surprised that he had gone over a day and not become nauseous from the FTL drive like he’d heard everyone complain about.

“Grub, is there a reason I’m doing so much better than everyone else as far as not getting FTL sick?”

“Hello, Dan. You are not sick because I upgraded the FTL drive to the same specifications as the FTL drive from the Georgia. The drive is synchronized. The Flem never had a problem, but other species are more sensitive.”

“When we get back, make sure every ship gets the upgrades.”

“Modifications are already being coordinated by Abby.

“That’s good. When we get to the Jacka home world, what will we be able to put on the table for improving their planet initially?”

“Sir, the best initial plan would involve thousands of Jacka being trained to use heavy machinery to mine bentonite clay from the northern continent. It could then be mixed into the sand with microbes that would promote growth and water retention. The Jacka could be trained to build and maintain stations designed to pump water from the oceans to the fields. They would benefit mostly from learning the technology and being able to say they improved the planet. Building their self-esteem is paramount.”

“Okay. We’ll use that as an initial offering.”

Dixie ship Texas, in Dixie space

4 November 2128

“Gentlemen and ladies, I have been in touch with one of our fighter pilots on the surface. He is attached to a small unit of scouts, the only unit still responding from the planet. We will link up with the unit by dropping about a mile south of New Mississippi. We’ll form two camps to reduce the chance of contamination on the ground. The US Army will be a half-mile west of the GP Army. Both camps will use a mix of force fields and trenches as part of their defense,” Staff Sergeant Coyle instructed.

“New Mississippi will be the first city liberated by Earth forces. From what we learn there, we will either continue as a combined strike force or break off in two directions, liberating the cities and acting as protection for each other’s flanks.”    

Coyle felt more like a mother than a leader of combat troops. The shuttle was heading for the deck as his troops assembled their gear and tried to stow what they didn’t need. “Dammit, people, get this place squared away. It looks like my kid’s bedroom. When that hatch drops and we un-ass this cesspool, I don’t want to trip over your shit!”

The other nine troops in the shuttle were hustling to stow their gear when they noticed Coyle had stopped and was concentrating on listening to a message only he was receiving. They continued cleaning as they watched his facial expression change.

“Now hear this!” Coyle barked. “Local population is suffering from a pandemic. Before you come into contact with natives, ensure that you are in MOPP 4 gear. No exposed skin. The disease is spread through bodily fluids. Those affected appear like a rabid dog and will bite and scratch you if they can. If you are bitten or scratched, let me or a medic know ASAP. There is still an enemy presence on the ground. The area we are going to be landing at should be cold.

“Immediately after touchdown we will be joining the detail to dig two trenches. Both trenches will surround our entire position. The exterior trench will be for keeping the infected away. The interior trench will be defensive in nature if the enemy attacks.” Coyle clicked his harness locked and then rested his beamer in his lap with the strap over his shoulder. His troops followed his lead as the anticipation of landing rose.

Outside New Mississippi, planet Dixie

4 November 2128

Everything was quiet. Scotty had noticed that the wobblers usually just stood and swayed when there was nowhere to go. There was no chance any of them were going to come for a visit, so he started to get up from his surveillance spot. Then he noticed a pair of Red Coats walking out of the city. They had a rope stretched tight between them and were using it to catch the wobblers, who would let themselves be guided back to the city. None of the wobblers even appeared to give thought to getting away or even out of the way. Soon, another half-dozen Red Coats came out and repeated the same procedure. In less than an hour all of the wobblers were back in the city. Then the Red Coats replaced the booby trap in the road that had been discovered earlier with a new one.

Scotty watched a little longer and realized the box wasn’t a trap. The Red Coats used it to keep the wobblers from roaming away. As he returned to the camp, he asked himself why the Red Coats would be keeping the wobblers.

Sam was happy to see Scotty heading toward camp. Thankful for someone to talk to who wasn’t under her command, she poured a cup of coffee for him and wondered what she should be doing. Her scouts were getting restless.

“Hey there, old timer. Care for a cup of coff—”

“Look alive, everyone. We got company coming!” Sgt. Linden interrupted as he pointed toward the shuttles starting to rain from the clouds.

“Those are Gray Panthers!” Sam shouted over the chatter of her excited scouts. “Their heading appears as if they’re going for the fields south of us. Let’s give them time to land and settle in, and then we’ll mosey on over and pay them a visit. We go over in the middle of the landing and some ‘nervous in the service’ private might have an itchy trigger finger,”