Deathtrap

by Craig Alanson

  She shrugged and did not regret breaking her formal stance. “I am fatalistic. Life is what it is. To wish it were otherwise is weak and foolish. Commodore, would you indulge me in a question?” Another question. Another thing she wanted, needed, that he could hold over her head, making her do what he wanted. Somehow, she felt he would not do that. He did not want a slave. For some reason, Kekrando wanted someone he could talk with as an equal, or as near to an equal as a human female could be.

  “You would not prefer a glass of baijiu?” He asked with a satisfied smile.

  “No, thank you. I wish to know; is the wormhole to Earth truly shut down? It is dormant? There is no way to get back to Earth?”

  “It is,” he confirmed with a frown. “We do not understand it. There are rumors that the Maxolhx, or Rindhalu,” he sneered at that name, “somehow disrupted that wormhole.” He shook his head. “I do not believe that is true. Beings who could control Elder wormholes would not waste such technology on cutting off access to your home planet.”

  “There is no way to get to Earth, then? You do not truly know what is happening there?”

  Before answering, he contemplated the liquid in his glass, which he had left unfinished. No. He had indulged himself too much over the last few days. “Major Ma, we all know what is happening to Earth, to your China. The White Wind were a weak and poverty-stricken clan, whose fortunes have been falling for centuries. Expending the resources to conquer your planet was a desperate bid to regain relevance. They could not afford to be gentle about using Earth for their own purposes. Now that they are cut off from the rest of the galaxy,” he shuddered slightly. The White Wind had come to be viewed as lowly scum by most other clans. The thought of the cruelty, the purposeless, deliberate cruelty that was happening on Earth, disgusted him. Humans were weak and primitive, their natural place was serving their clients, Kekrando firmly believed that. “It is best not to think about such things. Anyway,” he clapped his hands, having just come to a possibly rash and certainly surprising decision. “I have news for you, Ma.”

  She stiffened again, fearing he was selling her before leaving for his next assignment. Any other master would use her for hunting or in the combat training ring, and she would not survive long. She had been waiting and fearing this day, knowing it was inevitable. “What?” She asked her third question that day.

  “You are coming with me.”

  “I am?” She asked with pure astonishment.

  “Yes. I wish to continue our very helpful and enlightening conversations. They are a comfort to me,” he admitted.

  “Where are we going?”

  “A useless planet that is about to become a major battleground, possibly the focus of the entire galaxy for a short time. The name of this place is Feznako.”

  “Colonel Perkins, come in,” General Ross mumbled over a mouthful of muffin, a breakfast he had grabbed on his way through the small mess hall that served humans in the capital city on Paradise. “I didn’t expect you so soon, your dropship just landed.”

  “The team is getting our Dodo squared away, they hinted that I could help by being somewhere else.”

  “Your Dodo?” Ross lifted an eyebrow. “Our allies are letting you keep it?”

  “For now,” she nodded while looking longingly at the half muffin across the desk. Most of the food aboard the Dodo had been prepackaged and it had been impossible to cook real food in zero gravity anyway. She was eager for normal food, even a fresh-baked muffin. “That Dodo was modified to accommodate us, and the space boss aboard the cruiser didn’t want it back unless we’re really done with it.”

  “Space boss?”

  “Like the ‘Air Boss’ aboard a human aircraft carrier. The space group commander for all dropships aboard the cruiser.” She wrinkled her nose. “I got the feeling his maintenance crews were not eager to get the Dodo back because they think it smells bad now.”

  “And?”

  “Oh,” she laughed. “The main cabin is pretty ripe, but not because we’re humans. Any group of people living aboard that thing would make it funky after a couple weeks. You wanted to talk with me, Sir?”

  “Yes. The good news is you are done with that particular Dodo. You can throw a couple air fresheners in and leave it to the hamsters,” he joked, knowing the Mavericks would not release the spacecraft until they had thoroughly scrubbed it and written up a comprehensive list of maintenance items to be addressed. “The Ruhar were impressed by your work out there, you and the Verd-kris units with you.”

  Despite the prestige of having a spacecraft at her command, Emily was not sad to hear she would not be spending more time cooped up inside the Dodo’s cabin. “What’s the bad news?”

  “No bad news. We have another opportunity.”

  “Oh shit,” she groaned. “What is it this time? Another publicity tour?”

  “No publicity,” the general’s expression turned serious. “This is for real. You might say the Legion is being thrown a bone by the Ruhar. Their fleet just kicked Kristang ships away from a planet called ‘Feznako’, and our hamster friends kind of want the place.”

  “Feznako?” She pronounced slowly, rolling the word on her tongue.

  “The jokers at UNEF HQ are already calling it ‘Fresno’, so you can ignore the lizard’s name for this rock.”

  “Fresno, huh? What’s the mission?”

  Ross pointed at the floor. “Same reason we were brought here to Paradise. The Kristang are surrendering Fresno, it’s not an important world and the Swift Arrow clan that controls it can’t support their presence there, with their civil war going on. The Legion will establish control, secure military facilities and disarm and pacify the population.”

  “We know how well that works,” she kept the eyeroll to herself.

  “Regardless, our job is to get the lizards in line to be evaced off the surface of Fresno. The Legion’s job,” he corrected himself. UNEF would be sharing the duty with the Verd-kris. “There are only two hundred eighteen thousand lizards on that rock, if you can believe what the Kristang told the Ruhar. Fresno is too small for a space elevator, so they will all be taking the slow boat to orbit, one dropship at a time.”

  Perkins whistled. “How long will that take?”

  Ross shrugged. “Too many variables to say for certain. Could be three months, could be a year, depending on what transport resources the Kristang can rustle up in the middle of their sibling warfare. And whether the Ruhar decide to rent a space elevator from the Jeraptha.” Space elevator technology was beyond the capability of the Ruhar or Kristang, each species paid to charter an elevator from their patrons, and such an arrangement could be temporary or permanent. The elevator on Earth, that had brought the troops of UNEF into space, had been provided by the Thuranin, until the White Wind clan there defaulted on payments and the Thuranin took it away. Having an elevator on Fresno to facilitate kicking the current inhabitants off the surface could dramatically reduce the length of the evacuation timetable, and therefore reduce the risk to the Legion.

  Perkins whistled in dismay. “Damn, Sir. Two hundred, maybe two hundred fifty thousand lizards. What are we bringing to the fight?”

  “Not a fight,” he raised an eyebrow. “Keep in mind that officially, this is not a fight, it is a peaceful transfer of power under negotiated terms.”

  Perkins snorted. “Which means it’s peaceful until the Kristang see an opening to change their minds.” She repeated her question. “How many on our side?”

  “In the first wave, three thousand from UNEF, plus eight thousand Verd-kris. Add another couple hundred Ruhar for command and control.”

  Emily Perkins had become accustomed to hearing astonishing things on a daily basis, but the general’s statement surprised even her. “Only eleven thousand of us, that includes support units?”

  Ross nodded.

  “That’s more than a twenty to one ratio,” she said, as if Ross had not already done that math in his head.

  “Most of the lizard populatio
n are civilians,” Ross explained hopefully. “We figure they have maybe fifteen thousand combatants to throw into a fight. Fresno is a backwater planet, their warrior caste only needed enough manpower to control the population.”

  “They still outnumber us, on their turf,” Perkins observed, knowing she was sounding like a whiner instead of a leader. “They know the terrain and they have the civilian population on their side. Under their control. A lizard civilian with a rifle can do a lot of damage, Sir.”

  “Remember, Kristang population is heavily weighted toward females, and no way will their society allow a female to carry a weapon,” he held up his hands as if to say he wished there was a politically correct way to describe the situation. “Plus,” he pointed a finger toward the sky, “we’ll have orbital fire support. At least three warships, initially.”

  “That means two ships available to provide close-space support at any one time, while the third ship conducts maintenance. And they’ll pull likely one of those ships after the first month,” Perkins stated from experience. “This is sketchy, Sir.”

  “A second wave will land a month after the first,” Ross said with a frown.

  “We both know the shit will hit the fan before the second wave ever gets near the place. The Kristang aren’t stupid, they’ll hit us early and hit us hard.”

  “The Ruhar think they won’t hit us at all, Colonel. The Kristang are giving up Fresno without a fight, they don’t want it. The place is not worth fighting over.”

  Hearing that did not give Emily Perkins a warm fuzzy feeling. Quite the opposite. “Why us? If the hamsters want this place, why assign the Legion? I figured our first fight would be supporting a Ruhar ground force, not taking the lead.”

  Ross lowered his voice. “We asked ourselves the same question at HQ. The answer is, according to rumors, the Ruhar want Fresno, but they don’t want it real bad. They don’t want it enough to task a frontline cavalry unit.”

  “Huh. So, if the Legion can take and hold this place, great, but if not, it’s no big loss to the hamsters?”

  “You got it right, Colonel. This is our opportunity to shine.”

  “I’m eager for the opportunity. My problem is, will the Ruhar have our backs if we get in over our heads? If a hamster cavalry unit got stuck down there, their fleet would come in guns blazing to pull them out. Us aliens,” she made a cutting motion across her throat, “they can write us off as a failed experiment.”

  “The Alien Legion is an experiment, Colonel,” Ross’ eyes narrowed. “It is your experiment, if I remember correctly. We knew the Legion would be getting shit jobs the Ruhar don’t want to do. Fresno is just a trial by fire for us. You’re not backing out now, are you?”

  “Not a chance, Sir,” she sat up straighter in the chair. “When do we go?”

  “Advanced teams have already left to scout the place,” Ross explained. “The first wave departs in twelve days.”

  “Twelve days?” She could not imagine the nightmare of logistics for transporting and supporting three thousand humans. “How are we getting all that gear together so fast?”

  “We’re working on it. UNEF began preparations before we got the official word. Equipment is not our biggest headache. Our force consists largely of soldiers who haven’t done any soldiering for years. Most of them have never even seen a Ruhar combat skinsuit.”

  “We’re getting skinsuits for the entire force?” That surprised her. If that were true, the Ruhar were sincere about giving the Legion what they needed to succeed.

  “Eventually. The Ruhar are slow-rolling the advanced gear to us.”

  “Shit.”

  “Come on, Colonel. You know skinsuits have to be modified for humans to use. The hamsters can’t just snap their fingers and make three thousand of them available to us. We will have a Quick Reaction Force fully equipped. Initial strength of the QRF will be six platoons, expanding as we get equipment sent down. And the Verd-kris will also have their own Rapid Reaction units available for backing us up.”

  Emily nodded silently, holding her tongue. If, or when, the shit hit the fan on Fresno, the Verd-kris would be too busy to support their human allies. She very, very much did not like the idea of humans facing Kristang warriors, without the humans being augmented by powered armor. Six platoons of fully-equipped soldiers sounded good, but she knew in practice, that meant only four or maybe even three of those platoons would be at REDCON 2 or less, ready and able to move out in thirty minutes. The other platoons would be on reduced alert status, because it was impractical to keep cavalry troops mounted in their aircraft. The true value of a Quick Reaction Force on Feznako would be the striking power of their skinsuit-equipped soldiers.

  That is, if the Ruhar kept their promise about supplying that sophisticated gear in sufficient quantity, and on schedule.

  Ross knew exactly what she was thinking, because he was thinking the same. “In the meantime, your team is the only human group that has experience with skinsuits. I need the Mavericks in southern Lemuria ASAP to assist with training.”

  There were a lot of things she could have said, wanted to say. A lot of objections. But the decision had been made and the time for objections was over. There would be plenty of time for second-guessing after the operation was over, one way or another. “Yes, Sir. With enthusiasm.”

  “Ours not to reason why, Perkins?” Ross quoted a poem by Lord Tennyson.

  “I don’t have a problem with that. It’s the ‘Do and die’ part I don’t like. I would be Ok with ‘Do or die.”

  “Let’s make sure that’s an option.”

  “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

  “You’d better, because I’m coming with you.”

  “You are, Sir?”

  Ross nodded. “The Legion will be under overall command by a Ruhar, of course. But I will lead the UNEF contingent. Some Verd-kris I haven’t met will be leading their part of the force.”

  That was good news as far as Perkins was concerned. She knew Ross, he was steady enough to not get into stupid trouble, and bold enough to sign up to the Legion back when it was only a concept trying to gain traction within UNEF HQ. “Glad to have you aboard, Sir.”

  Ross stared at her, trying to make up his mind about something. “Perkins, I have a question for you, and I want a straight answer. When you dreamed up the Alien Legion idea, you wanted an opportunity for humans to prove we can fight, that we can be useful to the Ruhar, so they don’t sell us out so quickly, the next time a lizard real estate agent makes an offer for Paradise.”

  “That was the general idea, yes.”

  His eyes narrowed not in an unfriendly way. “I know you, Colonel. You think three steps ahead. What is your endgame, for the Legion? You trying to get better living conditions for humans on Paradise, something like that?”

  “That would be nice, but, no. Think bigger, Sir, Much bigger.”

  “I’m too busy,” he glanced over at his laptop, where sixty unread emails waited. “To play Twenty Questions. Tell me.”

  “Ultimately, when the Ruhar come to rely on us, I want to trade our services for something really important.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, the Jeraptha giving us a ride to Earth.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Her team was, to understate the situation, less than enthusiastic about the prospect of the Legion dropping boots on Fresno.

  “What’s the catch, Ma’am?” Derek asked.

  “The catch?” Irene stared at her fellow pilot like he had just said the stupidest thing imaginable. Because he had. “The whole setup is a fucking deathtrap. There’s no catch to it.”

  “As you were, Captain,” Perkins chided Striebich gently.

  Irene was not so easily quieted. “Do I understand this right, Colonel? The Legion is dropping three thousand humans, plus eight thousand Verds, on a world that could have ten times as many hostile lizards? The hamsters only kind of want this place, and if the lizards push back hard, the Ruhar will bail, leaving our asses hanging
out to dry?”

  Perkins owed it to her team to be completely honest. “Potentially, yes. I do not see us getting stranded on Feznako. If we’re defeated, we pull out, under cover of the treaty between the Ruhar and Kristang.”

  “Does that treaty specifically cover us lowly humans?” Dave asked.

  Emily had asked the same question of UNEF HQ, and the reply had been a frightening ‘the issue is under discussion’. “That’s above my pay grade, Czajka. People, remember, there will be Ruhar on the ground with us, in overall command of the Legion. If we don’t pull out, the hamsters will be stuck there also,” she said with a hopefulness she did not fully believe.

  Shauna waved a hand. “Colonel, can we talk about something that is my pay grade, something we can control? We are shipping out in less than two weeks, and we’re supposed to bring the force up to speed on Ruhar gear, including skinsuits and maser rifles?”

  “Skinsuits are for demonstration purposes only,” Perkins took a breath before plunging into trouble. “Paradise has only enough skinsuits modified for human use to cover the six of us, plus twenty more. That means,” she raised her voice to be heard over the shocked voices of her team. “People, focus. The Ruhar are working to modify skinsuits ASAP, and we should have several hundred ready to go by the time we set boots on Feznako. Our job here for the next eight days is to familiarize as many of the QRF troops as we can fit in.”

  “We’re teaching farmers how to be space soldiers,” Jesse muttered.

  “No, that’s not true,” Perkins corrected. “The QRF platoons will be hand-picked from people who remained in UNEF. Beyond that,” she tilted her head, “yeah. There’s a lot of people signed up for the Legion who haven’t held a rifle in a long time. Too long. Speaking of rifles, I do have good news. The Ruhar have listened to our advice.” By ‘Ruhar’ she meant ‘UNEF HQ’, because those humans had been resistant to her strongly-worded arguments, until she wore them down. “To simplify logistics, the Legion, Verds and humans, will be equipped with Kristang weapons, including rifles.”