Deathtrap

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Deathtrap Page 45

by Craig Alanson


  Nert did not. He cocked his head in an exaggerated fashion, to imitate the gesture of his human friends. “I am curious.”

  Hearing just that, Dave thought to himself ‘Oh shit’, but it was too late.

  The alien teenager, fueled by being clueless and a natural social awkwardness, forged ahead, ignoring Dave’s gesture of a hand slashing across his throat. “I now know that ‘pussy’ is not only a feline Earth animal, it can refer to part of the,” he realized what he was saying, and his cheeks flushed under his fur. “Of, it can be a reference to,” he coughed, “lady parts?”

  “Uh,” Jesse’s face was even more red. “Sorry, Ma’am,” he said to Perkins.

  That was still not enough of a clue for Nert. “My question is, why do you use that word disparagingly? I have many times heard ‘pussy’ used to describe weakness.”

  “Um,” all eyes were on Jesse, and he had nothing to say.

  Irene rolled out from under the Buzzard’s belly and stood up, wiping her hands on a rag. “You want to explain that, Colter?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye, while Derek and Dave frowned.

  “I have seen human females in combat,” Nert said, “and they are brave. They are not weak.”

  “It’s not, uh,” Jesse fumbled for words. Nothing he said would get him out of that jam. Just then, Shauna stomped up to the aircraft, wearing a skinsuit and carrying a replacement part for one of the turbine engines. The component was heavy and awkward to handle, but with the skinsuit doing most of the lifting and assisting her balance, Shauna made it look easy.

  She was going to set the heavy part down, but everyone was staring at Jesse, and his look of panic, made her curious. “What’s going on?”

  “Sergeant Colter was just explaining,” Irene tried to keep a straight face, “why being female makes us weak.”

  “Oh, really?” Shauna glared at her boyfriend, whose status was now in jeopardy.

  “No, I just- Shit.” Jesse had no idea what to say.

  Nert was of no help. “I am curious why someone who displays weakness or cowardice is called a ‘pussy’?”

  “What?” Shauna set the heavy turbine gearbox down gently, despite it massing half her body weight.

  Jesse tried to bail himself out. “Oh man, I, look, Nert, it’s just a stupid-”

  “Because,” Nert continued, “I have never seen a female display cowardice in combat,” he stated with an arched eyebrow. “And while human females may have less upper body strength than your males, that makes no difference in a combat, when skinsuits are usually worn. Actually,” he rubbed his cheek in imitation of human body language. “Human females have better fine motor control, that allows them to be more effective than males in operating skinsuits.”

  Shauna jammed her hands onto her hips hard enough that she would have hurt herself if the skinsuit’s computer had not dampened the power. “What you got to say about that, Colter?”

  “I am terribly sorry,” Jesse hung his head. “And I would really, really appreciate it if one of y’all would just kill me now, please?”

  On the seventeenth day of the second ceasefire, which surprisingly had held without major violations by the Kristang, a Ruhar fast courier ship arrived in orbit. Three hours later, Emily Perkins was called into a meeting with the acting Commissioner, and she was given information that did not please her. It also did not surprise her.

  She knew it was going to be a surprise to her team, and she dreaded telling them. So, she called the core group of Mavericks together, and told them exactly what she knew.

  “This is BULLSHIT!” Jesse exploded, pulling his arm away when Shauna squeezed his forearm. “We bled for this rock. Now we’re-”

  “Sergeant,” Perkins held up her hands to appeal for calm. “I was not thrilled when I heard about it either. We can either-”

  “It’s bullshit,” Jesse insisted, folding arms across his chest. “You brought us here-”

  That remark got Emily hot under the collar. “Sergeant! That is enough.”

  Dave came to his friend’s defense, seeing Jesse struggle mightily not to lose his professional cool. Shauna was squeezing one of Jesse’s hands hard and earnestly whispering something in his ear, the way his jaw was clenched, Dave didn’t think Jesse’s discipline was winning the battle against his emotions. “Em,” he deliberately used his private name for the Mavericks leader. “I’m not a sergeant, and I agree with Colter. This is bullshit.”

  Emily shot Dave an angry look. They had promised each other they would not let their very personal relationship affect their work. “Seriously?” She glared at her team. “Anyone else want to comment?”

  Irene folded her arms also. “This doesn’t sit right with me either, Ma’am. We took this planet. We won. Against the odds, when everyone including the fucking hamsters were out to screw us, we won.”

  “We did win,” Perkins insisted. At the disgusted and skeptical looks she got in return, she pressed her point. “You’re right. Everyone was against us succeeding here, and we did it anyway. The Legion accomplished everything we set out to do here. We don’t need this rock.”

  “It doesn’t feel right,” Shauna’s expression was more sad than angry. “A lot of people died here. Humans and Verds. Now we’re saying that was all for nothing?”

  Perkins took a long breath before answering. “Jarrett, the argument that we need to risk more lives, to make the lives we lost meaningful, is an endless cycle. That kind of thinking doesn’t get us anywhere. We can’t change what happened. What we can do is prevent any more lives from being lost. Anyone who gets KIA here from this point on, really will be for nothing. We won. The Legion won!”

  “It doesn’t feel like winning,” Jesse said with a sulk instead of anger. “We bled for this planet, now the hamsters are pulling us out, giving up, handing this place back to the lizards. How is that winning?”

  “Colter,” Perkins cocked her head and allowed a little note of sarcasm into her voice. “You want to stay here? You like this rock?” She broke into a smile. “What, you and Jarrett plan on setting up a bed and breakfast here?”

  “No, but-”

  Perkins gave him the knife hand to cut him off. It was a gentle knife hand, but everyone got the point. “Right from the start, the Legion did not give a shit whether hamsters set up homes here, plant their alfalfa or whatever, make little hamster babies and live happy hamster lives. That’s their problem. I know that I will be happy to see the last of this rock, and get home. The Legion came here to prove humans can fight, and we sure as hell did. We proved we can handle combat, even with our allies stabbing us in the back, and with only half the equipment the fucking hamsters promised to supply. We proved we can fight, the Verds proved they can fight, and we proved the two of us can fight effectively together. When we formed the Legion, our goal was to be taken seriously, to get respect. We got that. Hell, we may have collapsed the Ruhar federal government. The Glabosor scandal has caused the shit to hit the fan on their homeworld. Team,” she looked from one person to the next. “The Ruhar don’t want this planet. Truth is, they never wanted it, they never planned to keep it. Because of Glabosor’s fraud, there is no money left to get Fresno set up as a Ruhar colony. The military situation in this part of the sector means the Ruhar would benefit from pulling out, and letting the lizards fight over this rock. The clans who sent ships, troops and supplies here all feel they got screwed over by the others, and they’re out for blood. The battle of Fresno has caused several inter-clan alliances to split, that weakens the Kristang overall and hopefully means their nasty civil war will last longer than it would have. People, it was not our problem whether the hamsters set up happy little lives here. We don’t care. The Legion was always going to pull out when the battle was over. The facts are simple: the battle is over, so we’re pulling out. Think of it this way; if the hamsters kept this place and tried to set up a colony here, and then decided to bail out five years from now, would any of us care?”

  That prompted grumbling from eve
ryone except Derek, who had been certain right from the start that he did not give a shit about the ultimate fate of Fresno. “Ok, maybe, I can see that,” Irene had elected herself as the group’s spokesperson. “Ma’am, it feels like, like- Like the lizards are laughing at us.”

  That made Perkins snort with a chuckle. “No. Striebich, the lizards are not laughing at us. We kicked their scaly asses and they know it. They are laughing at the hamsters, at least until they realize the Ruhar are quite happy to let this planet become one more thing for the lizards to fight over. The Kristang know the Ruhar are setting them up to make Fresno another battle in their civil war, but they can’t help letting Fresno tear apart their clan alliances, because that’s just who they are. So, no, I can assure you the Kristang are not laughing at us, or at the Verd-kris. The Legion has got them scared shitless right now. They’re worried the next place we hit will be a fight for real stakes. Think about that.”

  “Ma’am,” Dave said after a long pause while the team considered her words and looked to see everyone else’s reaction. “Is it true that part of the deal is we get to take all the Keepers on the planet home with us?”

  Emily nodded, not daring to risk a smile that might break the fragile mood. “Yes. All the Keepers who want to come back to Paradise with us. Those who refuse, well,” she held up her hands. Nothing more needed to be said.

  “Ok,” Dave agreed, and shared a look with Jesse. “Something good will come out of this, then. All the Keepers are dumbasses, but,” he thought back to the commando raid. “Some of them are good people, when it counts.”

  “Oh,” Jesse knew all eyes were on him. “What the hell. You’re right, Colonel. I do not give a shit what happens to Fresno. A couple weeks ago, the Ruhar were ready to pull the Legion out and leave us humans here to die. So, yeah, this is a win for us. Live to fight another day, right?” he offered a fist, and Dave bumped it.

  “Amen to that, brother,” Dave muttered. “What’s next for the Legion, Ma’am?” He really wanted to know her thoughts on the subject, because she had refused to discuss it with him in private.

  “That’s a tricky question,” Perkins admitted. “The hamster government can’t say the Legion is a failed experiment, because that will remind their public that this was never a fair fight. And that we won, despite getting screwed over. Politically, I think the Ruhar will need to give the Legion another assignment, but we still have their Army, Fleet and the Peace faction in their government against the whole Legion concept. My guess is, we will get sent somewhere as a support or relief force, backing up their Army. That’s Ok,” she assured her team. “That’s what we expected in the first place. UNEF HQ and I were surprised when the hamsters sent us to Fresno, as the lead force.”

  “I’m Ok with someone else taking the lead in the next fight,” Shauna announced, surprising even herself. “If it means the hamsters get shot at first.”

  “I don’t even care about that,” Irene pushed herself away from the wall she had been leaning on. “What I care about is that in the next fight, the hamsters can’t bail themselves out and leave us to fight for ourselves.”

  “Relax, Striebich,” Perkins did her best to assure the pilot. “I’m pretty sure that ship has sailed. When rumor got out that the Ruhar considered abandoning humans here, that did not go well with their public. It would have been too late to help us, but the hamsters can’t pull that shit in the future. One way or another, they’re stuck with us.”

  “When do we pull out, Ma’am?” Derek focused on the practical question.

  “The timeline is still being negotiated,” Perkins said. “Jarrett, you and Nert may need to stay here a while, to testify for the Jeraptha about what you found. You’ll be under the protection of the beetles, and Admiral Tashallo told me it shouldn’t take long. He’s waiting for an official group called the Inquisitor’s Office to show up and conduct a formal investigation. Before that, I have meetings set up with the Kristang fleet commander, Tashallo, and a couple others. I do have one bit of good news.”

  “What’s that, Ma’am?” Jesse asked on behalf of the group.

  “When we return to Paradise, the Jeraptha will be coming with us. Their Central Wagering Office wants to talk with more humans about virtual sports.” She grinned ear to ear. “Those beetles really think it is the greatest thing since the jump drive. General Ross is negotiating with Tashallo for a group of human fantasy sports experts to go to the Jeraptha homeworld.”

  “Shit,” Dave gasped. “They don’t mean me, do they?”

  “No,” Emily winked. “He understands now that, despite whatever Colter told him, you are not truly the subject matter expert they need.”

  “Uh,” Jesse looked uncomfortable. “The admiral doesn’t have any hard feelings about my little fibbing, does he?”

  “No,” Perkins laughed. “All’s well that ends well, is their philosophy. Ok, people, carry on, until Legion HQ gets the evac schedule hammered out. I’m going to meet with the Kristang fleet commander. You might be interested that we sort of know this guy.”

  The team looked at each other, mystified. Irene asked the question. “How do we know a lizard fleet commander, Ma’am?”

  “We blew his battlegroup out of the sky over Paradise.”

  Jesse whistled, long and low. “Wow. Now there are gonna be some hard feelings.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  “Colonel Perkins,” Commodore Kekrando stood up confidently when Perkins strode into the room. The defeated Kristang former admiral was smiling broadly and holding out a hand. The Verd-kris guards instantly went on alert, bringing their rifles to point directly at Kekrando’s chest, the faint red dazzle of the targeting lasers dancing off his resplendent uniform.

  “That will not be necessary,” Perkins waved a hand for the guards to lower their weapons. She took another step forward and grasped the Kristang’s hand, returning a firm but not crushing grip and looking up to meet his gaze. The Commodore was tall even for his people, she estimated he was seven feet six or more. “I am pleased to finally meet you, Commodore.”

  He released her hand before the grip became awkward. “It is very pleasant for me to finally meet you, Colonel Perkins. The first time we were adversaries, you were a major, and I,” his smile faded slightly, “was an admiral.”

  “I am sorry about you being demoted.” She spoke the truth. Based on everything the Ruhar knew about Kekrando, he was a smart and deadly opponent. He also had a reputation for being honorable and adhering strictly to both the rules and spirit of the treaties governing interspecies warfare. In a battle over a decade ago, Kekrando had ordered his ships to hold fire while two Ruhar destroyers assisted a damaged battleship. The then-Admiral had allowed the battleship’s crew to evacuate and the destroyers to jump away, before he blew the battleship into space dust. When he was later harshly criticized by his clan leadership for showing weakness toward the enemy, Kekrando responded that mercy is a demonstration of strength rather than weakness, that the battle was essentially over at that point, and that he had won the battle. So, she did genuinely regret that his defeat at Paradise had resulted in his temporary removal from command. Whoever had taken his place as admiral was sure to be worse.

  He lifted his shoulders in a good imitation of a human shrug. “Such are the fortunes of war. I believe there is a human expression, ‘You win some and you lose some’? However,” he wagged a finger at her, it was a playful rather than threatening gesture. “This is the second time we have been adversaries, and the second time I am going home in defeat.”

  “If you are concerned about your treatment when you return home, the Verd-kris could use an experienced starship commander,” she suggested with humor, and a tiny bit of hope.

  He laughed, a raspy sound. “Thank you for the kind offer. I might consider it someday. For now, thank you for being concerned about my fate, however I am not in danger. The clan leadership also needs experienced starship commanders,” he did not need to tell the human about the recent defeats
his clan had suffered in the civil war, while Kekrando had been distracted at Feznako. “Unlike our first encounter at Pradassis, I am not being blamed for the debacle here. Clan leaders understand there is nothing I could do once the Jeraptha decided to intervene directly.”

  She made a decision, and waved toward the chairs arranged in the corner of the room. “Please, Commodore, be seated.” There was a brief, animated argument when she insisted the guards leave the room. “You can wait just outside the door, but the Commodore and I have much to discuss,” she explained, and the grumbling guards left, making sure she saw them standing at attention as the door slid closed.

  “Now, Commodore,” she lifted a box that had been placed on a coffee table when the room was set up for their meeting. “This is a gift to you.”

  Kekrando’s surprise was clear. He accepted the box and hefted it, testing its weight. “A gift?” He asked, as he opened the top of the box. “From you, or from your Expeditionary Force?”

  “Neither,” she shook her head. “This is from the Verd-kris. It is a type of wine that they make on one of their planets,” she emphasized the word ‘their’ to make the point that the Verd-kris were not merely tolerated as guests on Ruhar worlds. Of the seven worlds with substantial populations of Verd-kris, six had no Ruhar inhabitants other than diplomatic personnel. “Do me a favor, please? If the wine is not good, tell the Verds it is wonderful. They are quite proud of it.”

  His broad grin returned. “You have not tasted it?”

  “No.” She had sniffed another bottle of the wine, which to her human nose, smelled like nutmeg and paint thinner.

 

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