by S. H. Jucha
Omnian engineers, techs, and SADEs swarmed the new site to prepare it. Quall remains were removed, ear wigs collected, thoroughfares opened, and utilities restored. Finally, food tanks and dispensers were installed.
Then came the day Gregich dreaded, and Jess grimly faced.
Trying to make a point to the Packeoes, Jess assembled Dischnya, Norsitchians, and Sylians outside the original site. The nearly one thousand veterans arrayed themselves in an arc from one side of the roadway to the other.
Jess stood at the front. He was flanked by Tacnock, Aputi, Homsaff, Menous, Salsinona, and the Sylian commanders.
On the agreed hour, Gregich and his loyal captains led the few thousand Packeoes out to meet the defenders. Stasnich and his supporters separated themselves from Gregich, but they maintained a place in front.
When the two groups faced each other, Jess addressed the Packeoes, pitching his voice to be heard. He said, “Those who you see behind me are willing to risk their lives to take this planet from the Colony. We’re about to find out who among you are willing to do the same. A second urban center has been prepared.”
“Why?” Stasnich interrupted. “We like this place.”
The ex-leader’s remarks were followed by loud grumblings from his followers.
“And you’re welcome to this place,” Aputi’s voice boomed across the open space and stilled Stasnich’s sycophants. “Now be quiet and listen.”
“New hunting teams will be formed,” Jess continued. “The teams will be led by Sylians. A single trooper will hunt with ten shadows.”
On cue, the ranks behind Jess separated to form an aisle, and ten shadows scurried through it to surround him.
“An average of three Packeoes will be assigned to each hunting team,” Jess said.
“How do you expect to guarantee our protection?” a captain, a Stasnich supporter, yelled out.
“That’s the point,” Homsaff growled. “We’re done wasting our time keeping you safe and failing to clear this planet.”
“You have a choice to make,” Jess said. “You can remain here, or you can move to the new site.”
Gregich strode across the intervening space between the two groups and stood with the veterans. “Understand what these choices mean,” he called out. “If you stay here, you stay on your own. There’ll be no one to protect you.”
“The Omnian leader promised us support,” Stasnich yelled.
“Your support on this site will be delivered in terms of maintaining the site’s utilities and ensuring continuity of food stock delivery,” Jess said, “but our veterans and shadows will be based at the alternate site.”
“But if there’s only one veteran to a hunting team, we’ll be exposed to danger,” a Packeo crew member complained.
“Yes, you will,” Jess replied. “You’ll have to fight for your right to settle this planet.”
“When will this take place?” another Packeo asked.
“Today,” Gregich replied. “Return to your quarters and gather your personal things. Assemble out here in one hour if you’re moving.”
“We intend to keep our ships’ equipment,” Stasnich announced stubbornly.
“You can try,” Aputi retorted, “but the equipment will be apportioned between the two sites, according to the populations.”
Stasnich glared at Gregich and the veterans. His contempt was obvious, but it had no effect on those who faced him.
The Packeoes didn’t move. Indecision kept their feet firmly in place.
Sylians, Norsitchians, and Dischnya deserted the field, boarding travelers that lifted and headed for the new urban center. That left Gregich and the veterans facing the Packeoes.
“Time is wasting,” Gregich said quietly.
Packeoes near Gregich heard him, made up their minds, and pushed through the crowd behind them to pack. Their actions galvanized others to join them. Soon a throng hurried into the center to prepare for the relocation.
The veterans and Gregich waited alone on the empty thoroughfare for the hour to pass. Within a half hour, the travelers returned empty and lined the roadway.
As the hour drew to a close, Gregich nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He had a sinking feeling that few, if any, would appear. If that was so, he would have failed to save his fleet’s crews.
With minutes to spare, the Packeoes streamed from the center. Their faces were grim, as they marched past the ex-senior captain and the veterans to board the travelers.
17: Alternate Site
“How many remained behind?” Jess asked Gregich. He’d accompanied the first flight of travelers to the alternate site and hadn’t returned. Gregich remained at the river site until all who wanted to leave had lifted.
“Stasnich and his followers managed to convince others to stay,” Gregich said with disgust. “They number a hundred and five.”
“It’s still a small number, Gregich,” Jess said. “Let’s be grateful about that. More important, their influence is gone.”
“That part I much appreciate,” Gregich replied.
“The battleships’ equipment has to be moved,” Jess noted. “That decision is yours. Mark what you want transferred, and the SADEs will relocate those pieces. By the way, take armed troops with you. I don’t trust Stasnich.”
“And neither do I,” Gregich replied stiffly. He hated that their quest for a new life had come to this level of acrimony.
Jess left Gregich to brood and quietly suck his teeth, while he hurried to the meeting that he’d called.
“How do our newly transplanted appear?” Jess asked the veterans.
“Fearful, as expected,” Homsaff replied.
“Regardless, we need to resume the hunt,” Jess said.
“I’ve a concern,” Menous stated. “The brassards don’t have implants with which to control the shadows. How will we be employed?”
“The options are yours, Menous. How would you like to proceed?” Jess asked.
“The shadows are exceptionally sophisticated and can operate independently,” Aputi offered.
“Your brassards could learn sign language,” Jess said, while he waggled his fingers, repeating what he’d said. “That’s how I communicated with the earlier versions.”
“Jess, how about the SADEs teach them simple hand instructions ... useful ones like numbers, directions, and return time,” Tacnock suggested.
“That’s a possibility,” Menous admitted.
“Tacnock, it’s your idea. Work with Menous and the SADEs to devise a simple vocabulary,” Jess directed. “We’ve plenty of shadows, and I’d rather not have them idle.”
“Understood,” Tacnock replied.
Menous bared his blunt squared teeth. “I like the ideas, Captain. Welcome to this fight.”
“The Dischnya can hunt singly with shadows,” Homsaff said. “Do you wish us to take some of the Packeoes?”
“No,” Jess replied. “You and the warriors deserve a break from escorting them. However, I’d like your hunting teams to investigate a wide range of grids. I need to understand the extent of the Colony’s infestation on this planet.”
“A worthy assignment,” Homsaff acknowledged. “The warriors will be pleased.” Her body posture underwent a visible transformation. Her tail rose, her shoulders relaxed, and she chuffed.
It occurred to Homsaff that her relief was primarily a result of fellow veterans arriving and not directly the Omnians. Although, without Omnian support, none of their efforts would have been possible.
“So, Sylian forces will be the only troops responsible for the Packeoes,” Salsinona concluded.
“That’s true,” Jess replied. “I need you to inform the commanders to communicate something important to your troops. Tell them the Packeoes are to be eased into the new arrangement over the course of several days.”
“Protection the first day, and slowly withdraw it as the days progress,” Salsinona summarized. “Is that wise? Won’t the Packeoes expect the same treatment after
the first day?”
“They would if they’re not warned,” Jess replied. “That’s the second part of the message. The troops must make their intentions about the progression clear.”
“Is that the entire message?” Salsinona asked.
“No,” Jess replied. “Each Sylian must take the same three Packeoes with them each time.”
“Difficult to organize,” Salsinona commented.
Jess held up a finger and linked to Cordelia.
“Excellent,” Salsinona replied, displaying her sharp canines.
“A thought, Jess,” Aputi said. “I think there should be only one officer to a hunting team. It’ll appear fairer.”
“Yes,” Tacnock said quickly. “In fact, mix them. For instance, don’t let the gunners or the pilots group together.”
“Good suggestion,” Jess replied. “I’ll inform Gregich, and the captains can organize the crew members. Any other thoughts? No? Then let’s look at the grid system that’s been devised.”
* * * * *
As starlight crept over Quall’s horizon, a flotilla of travelers landed on the roadways of the lake site. Cargo shuttles carried shadows. Those ships would work in concert with the passenger versions.
Jess and the veterans were on hand to welcome the medical team. The first individuals off a traveler were Pia and Nalia.
“Greetings, Captain, we have your answer to the identification challenge,” Pia said. “Please have the Sylians form ten lines, one trooper behind the next and facing the urban center.”
Jess nodded to Salsinona, who relayed the request to the commanders via her implant. Swiftly, the troops hurried to line up under the commanders’ orders.
As starlight brightened the fields of grass, Gregich led the Packeoes out. They came three by three.
Then the Dischnya and the Norsitchians dealt the Packeoes to the ten waiting lines.
A member of the medical team stood at the head of each Sylian line. An injector slipped a tiny transmitter under the skin of each Packeo. It emitted a unique signal. The first Sylian trooper in a line picked up and recorded the three signals. Then the foursome, the Sylian and three Packeoes, boarded a traveler to wait until the ship was filled.
And so it went — three at a time joining a fourth and the newly formed team climbing aboard a ship.
When a traveler was full, that ship and the adjacent cargo shuttles lifted to disperse the teams per the assigned grids.
In a half hour, Pia’s medical team finished their injections, and most of the shuttles lifted. After Jess thanked Pia and her staff for their efforts, the medical team returned to the Freedom.
Then the Dischnya and the Norsitchians departed to join the hunt.
Aputi, Tacnock, and Jess were left standing on a roadway and surrounded by fields of grass. Cargo shuttles with shadows waited for them. The veterans clasped forearms and wished one another a safe hunt. Then they boarded separate ships.
A few exceptions were made to the random formation of the Packeo triads.
Jess considered Gregich too great an asset to risk losing. On the other hand, Gregich couldn’t be left behind. It would be an act of favoritism. In addition, Gregich had identified two captains that the crews admired.
Therefore, Jess assigned Gregich and the captains to Aputi, Tacnock, and himself, adding two more Packeoes to complete the team’s triads. Gregich was on his team.
Within a few minutes after landing in Jess’s assigned grid, he was reminded how different the circumstances of Quall were from Pimbor, and he quickly adjusted his focus.
Juveniles swarmed toward the team, enticed by the scents of the Packeoes and Jess.
Laser fire spit from the shadows, and they cleared the field as quickly as the small insectoids erupted from their hiding places.
Jess kept an eye on the Packeoes. He saw Gregich holding his Loopah weapon at the ready, a grim expression on his face. The other two Packeoes, a pilot and a tech, were as Homsaff had said. They were fearful and emotionally unprepared to be in the field.
When the shadows stopped firing, they oriented in all directions. The scents were strong, and they were ready to pursue the prey. They waited for their assault leader’s cue to proceed, but Jess held them back.
“Come stand beside me,” Jess said to the two scared Packeoes.
The pilot and the tech instantly obeyed. They were happy to be close to the intrepid captain.
“I want you to imitate every action of mine,” Jess said. “I don’t care how foolish it might seem. I want you to develop my habits. If I fire and kill an insectoid. I want you to shoot at it too. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Captain,” the pair echoed.
Gregich caught Jess’s attention. He tapped his temple and swirled a finger in the air. In the moment, the ex-senior captain had flashed back to the Freedom’s bay, when Lieutenant Rischvoss, his pilot, and he first met the Omnians and taught Julien their language.
Jess understood Gregich’s finger motions. He nodded and relayed his actions to the veteran army.
The veterans’ day was filled with numerous deadly encounters.
Tacnock lost a Packeo early. The tech shrieked when a red reared in front of Tacnock. As the insectoid prepared to strike, the Jatouche shot it.
However, the Packeo didn’t wait to see the insectoid adult die. Instead, he turned and ran. Within fifteen meters, he ran into a gray’s deadly pincers, which promptly fastened on the tech’s neck and cleaved his head from his body.
The remaining two Packeoes crowded so close to Tacnock that he had to repeatedly warn them to keep a safe distance from him.
To adjust for the Packeoes, Tacnock slowed the advance of his shadows. Another reason for holding his metal hunters back was that the shadows were draining their power supplies faster than their grav cells could recharge them.
The veterans’ actions were monitored by the SADEs and summarized for Jess, who was disappointed to learn they’d lost thirty-eight Packeoes by midday break. More than half of them had fled their protection only to be killed in fleeing through the rough terrain or running into the insectoids.
The only good note in the report summary was that not a single veteran had been lost.
While eating a meal, Jess talked with his Packeoes about what they’d learned by imitating him.
“Be quick,” the tech said. “Don’t think. React.”
“And you,” Jess asked the pilot.
“Your head must turn at all times,” the pilot replied. “Keep an eye on the shadows. They point the way to danger.”
“You don’t aim, Captain,” Gregich noted. “Why not?”
“I point the rifle at the target as if it were an extension of my arms and hands,” Jess replied. “It’s quicker than aiming.”
“Should we try that?” Gregich asked.
“You can, if you want,” Jess replied. “If it doesn’t work for you, then return to aiming.”
It bothered Jess that the Packeoes were such terrible shots, and he decided to try some experiments.
Lane had lowered the shuttle’s ramp, and Jess laid some padding atop it. Then he set his Loopah weapon on padding, sighting it on a nearby tree.
To the pilot, Jess said, “Lie on the ramp, and fire the weapon. You should hit the tree.”
The pilot clambered onto the ramp, eased the stock to his shoulder, and sighted down the barrel.
Jess kept his eyes on the tree. Through his fingers, which steadied the rifle, he felt the gas projectile pop from the barrel. He also felt the slight twist of the weapon.
Naturally, the dart missed the tree and disappeared i
nto the bushes.
“Look at my finger,” Jess directed the pilot. He held up his first finger, which was crooked at the last joint. Then he slowly squeezed it. “Do you see that?” he asked.
“Yes, Captain,” the pilot said, sucking heavily on his teeth.
“What’s wrong?” Jess asked. “I don’t understand what’s bothering you.”
Jess’s head spun, and his eyes regarded Gregich. “What kind of small arms training did your crews have before they launched or during the voyage?”
“None,” Gregich replied. “Our battleships were supplied with them, but we’ve never had an occasion to use them. Only security had training, and we lost most of them on the landings at Crocia and Usaana.”
“How about after dropping planetside on Pimbor?” Jess asked.
“We were issued the Loopah weapons, shown how to load the drums, check the breech, and listen for the ping of drum before it empties,” the pilot replied.
“That’s it?” Jess inquired.
The pilot and the tech stared at each other in confusion, as if they’d missed something significant in their instructions. It led to some significant teeth sucking.
“Captain, that’s all the training we received,” Gregich clarified.
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Jess moaned.
Such a simple thing, basic weapons training, had been overlooked. The Packeoes had energy weapons, and everyone had assumed that they were trained in their use.
“Off the ramp,” Jess said to the pilot. Then he sent a message to the Sylian veterans to halt their hunting until told to resume.
“The three of you watch closely,” Jess said. He proceeded to demonstrate how to accurately discharge the Loopah weapon by not mashing the firing stud.
When the pilot tried again, Jess stopped him.
“You’re placing your eyes on each side of the barrel. Why?” Jess asked.
“Eyesight is clearer with both open, Captain,” the pilot explained.
“True,” Jess replied, “but you sight down the barrel with the eye that’s next to the stock. If it’s not the dominant eye, then you must close the other eye.”
