by Alma Boykin
All Sgt. Taek saw of the other Azdhag was the area between his muzzle-tip and eyes, and a general shape. Bleersh’s heavy coat, leggings, insulated tail cover and insulated battle gauntlets covered everything else. “Yes, my lord. We got a hot meal last night, and everyone’s equipment checks, according to Sgt. Tseerklii.” Taek nodded. He knew Tseerklii, and if any of his men lacked gear, it was their own damn fault, not the sergeant’s.
“Good, Bleersh! You’ve done well. Go get some rest—we’ve got a lot of work later this morning.” She thumped him on the shoulder and started back to the command center, Taek at her shoulder.
The Lord Defender’s bodyguard didn’t like how she kept wandering off. “My lord, with all due respect, it’s not safe for you to be walking around without a guard.”
“Sergeant, I’m wearing body armor, behind our own lines. I see better at night than any Azdhagi or Cygnid can, and my coat and helmet are insulated for both IR and UV, with a winter snow camouflage. I appreciate your concern,” she stopped and faced him, “But I need to talk to the men without you scaring the fewmets out of them.”
He could hear the smile in her voice and growled anyway. “My lord, a question.”
“Go ahead, Sergeant,” she waited.
“Are all sapient mammals as, um, unconventional as you are, Ma’am?” He really wanted to say ‘insane,’ but that would be disrespectful.
Rada considered his question, shook her head, and started walking again. “No, I’m considered quite odd. Most mammals are not as warlike as I am, or as Azdhagi are.”
Back at the command tent, Rada read over the latest position reports and intelligence as an orderly brought her a bowl of very hot gantak broth. Having learned the hard way, she let it cool before sipping the rich, fatty drink. Someone had added an extra kick with the local version of pepper and she coughed a little before getting used to the flavor. She skimmed through the latest news, then sat back, satisfied.
The Defenders attacked just before sunrise, after half-hovers and mobile artillery finished working over known Cygnid artillery and mortar positions and defenses. Rada fought the urge to wade in, reminding herself that she had to let the Azdhagi fight their own battle. She directed and planned, but now she her job consisted of standing back, waiting, and watching. The Wanderer worked to maintain a cool, detached façade. Neither Azdhagi nobles nor commanding officers were supposed to look or act ruffled in times of stress. So Rada listened to the battle unfolding, visualizing the scene.
The Azdhagi had confined the Cygnids to a roughly teardrop-shaped area. The Lord Defender’s troops had concentrated along the rounded part of the drop, thinning in strength towards the “top” of the area. After the failed break out, the Cygnid commanders had pulled back, concentrating their forces within a smaller ring about halfway up the teardrop. The Cygnids rejected Rada’s invitations to surrender, although the intelligence reports suggested that the officers’ show of defiance served as much as an attempt to preserve their rank status as a response to outside orders. The Imperials stationed outside the atmosphere had made certain that no reinforcements or relief could reach the ground, and the Defenders’ psychological warfare broadcasts warned the Cygnids not to expect relief troops or supplies. Meanwhile, the Azdhagi foreign minister’s people were attempting to persuade the Cygnid government to withdraw its forces. Thus far they’d had little success.
Rada settled on a fairly simple plan: pound the hell out of the enemy, then attack with ground forces and roll the insects back to their initial landing zone. She’d ordered her air support not to target the Cygnid transports because she did not want her men facing soldiers who thought they were trapped. The Cygnids, as best she could learn, were not suicidal or given to self-immolation in defeat. They were probing the Azdhagi, testing the Empire and its defenses, not looking for death-and-glory. “Eliminate the officers and the troopers will probably surrender,” Imperial Intelligence had said. And if they did not surrender, well, that’s what bombs were for.
To her surprise, Rada’s plan appeared to work. Truly, whosever’s god really does look after novices and fools, she thought, a touch amused at the Azdhagi success. Diister’s platoon was slow getting moving, and another group had trouble with a nasty counterattack, but the Azdhagi pushed hard and steady, rolling the enemy into a smaller and smaller space. The reptiles took casualties, of course, and Lord Ni Drako snarled as reports came in of finding a minefield and some booby traps. The Defenders encountered harder resistance than the intelligence reports had suggested, but enough Cygnid officers led from the front that the Defenders eliminated them fairly easily, and groups of invaders started surrendering. The mood in the command center brightened considerably as the attack unfolded, but Rada stayed tense, waiting for the trap, attack, or other disaster that she knew had to be waiting.
After the third hour, the Lord Defender realized that something else needed attention and that the command tent had no facilities for her to take care of the matter. “I’m going out,” she informed her staff, then headed for the woods. Her guard followed along, to a point well behind the lines. Then Rada turned and coughed. “Privacy, sergeant, corporal.” They weren’t happy, but turned their backs as she went a bit farther on, out of sight and easy hearing.
The males have such an advantage when it comes to this, she growled as she re-fastened and adjusted everything after taking care of her business. Rada made a mental note to get a second “field assistance device” to keep with her emergency gear, so that this wouldn’t be as much of a nuisance next time. Rada scraped snow over the spot, enjoyed a moment of relative quiet, and started walking back through the fresh powder towards her waiting guard.
She caught no hint of the Cygnid’s presence until he fired. Something slammed into her right leg and she smelled ozone and cooked meat. “Shit!” Rada fell into the cold powdery snow as the joint buckled. She twisted and rolled, taking the impact on her hip and shoulder as she drew her blast pistol and tried to find her attacker. There was a white blur against the dark tree trunks, and the woman fired and missed. “Fuck, I’m dead,” she hissed under her breath as she tried to roll under better, or any, cover. Rada burrowed into the snow on her belly, not taking time to see how badly she’d been hit. There was no pain yet, so she ignored the wound. Where was he? The Wanderer risked a little motion and was rewarded by a whiz of light just over her head. She thumped back into the cold blanket and lay still.
The Cygnid approached the fallen officer with great caution. He thought he’d killed the Lord Defender with his second shot, but needed to make certain. The male crept nearer, scanning for any other Azdhagi that might be nearby, and when he detected no physical activity he eased closer to the fallen enemy. He could see the mammal sprawled face down, blood already freezing around the Lord Defender’s leg, and the soldier raised his rifle to give the mammal an insurance shot. Instead, the officer’s hand twitched and two blaster bolts hit the Cygnid in the head and thorax, killing him before he could react.
Second oldest trick in the book, Rada snickered to herself. Her glee faded as she tried to sit up and felt the world swimming around her. She evaluated the damage to her leg and started giving herself first aid, beginning with a tourniquet. It hadn’t been just an energy shot that hit her, she realized as she tried to slow the bleeding. This is not good. She needed to get help and to get to the medical equipment in her ship back at the Palace as soon as possible.
The Lord Defender’s radio crackled. “Ground One, Claw Three, over.”
“Claw Three, Ground One, go ahead,” she transmitted.
“Be advised that the enemy are retreating towards their secondary positions. Request permission to pursue?”
Rada shook her head, “Negative. Launch air strike on Cygnid positions, then pursue, Claw Three. Confirm orders.” Keep them moving towards their ships.
“Air strike then pursuit, Ground One,” a disappointed voice replied.
Patience, patience. Let the artillery find the next traps. “
Affirmative. Ground One clear.”
The Lord Defender tried to get to her feet and failed. In her daze, it never occurred to her to just radio or even yell for help. Instead, Rada dragged herself over to the dead Cygnid and took the magazine out of his rifle, then activated the weapon’s safety and used the rifle as a crutch. Master Sergeant Todd’s ghost is going to kick my ass from here to Procyon for tearing up a functioning weapon, she thought. After fifty meters or so, one of her guards saw her and trotted up, giving her his shoulder to lean on. “Lord Defender, what happened?” he asked, calling in for medical assistance.
“Bloody sniper-wanna-be behind the lines. Pass the word, corporal,” Rada ordered. She managed to reach her personal troops, but then things started going grey. Taloned forefeet caught her, easing her down into the snow as blood loss, shock, and the cold caught up with the mammal. “Status report on the attack,” she demanded, trying to stay conscious. She heard, “airstrike completed, appears successful, Lord Defender,” before she passed out.
* * *
Five days later, Rada gritted her teeth and made herself walk through the pain. The corpsman had done his best, but no one had thought to train any Defender medics in mammalian medicine. The Healer had also tried to help, but by that point too much time had passed for anyone to undo the worst damage. At least the surgeons had gotten the bleeding stopped, the big bits reassembled, and had saved the leg. She sighed and forced herself to keep moving across the hard-packed snow, leaning some of her weight on an improvised walking stick. The Defense Forces had finished mopping up the last of the Cygnid invaders three days before and the few troops remaining around the field headquarters saluted her as Rada made her careful way to her transport. If this is what it takes to convince you to trust and obey me, then so be it. One of the captains offered her a boost into the aircraft and she accepted his help. Rumor had it that her injury and her visits to the other troops in the medical facilities had earned her the Defenders’ respect. The low casualties and the Azdhagi victory helped even more, as soldiers compared notes and began deciding that perhaps the mammal did know something, at least about warfighting.
King-Emperor Ku-Shkii and his inner Court met the Lord Defender’s vehicle when it landed beside the palace gates. Word of her injury had gone before her, because on normal occasions only the Imperial transport landed so close to the Palace walls. Rada stepped out of the hovering ship unassisted and waited until it lifted off and cleared the walls before approaching the gathered nobles. She swallowed hard and knelt very carefully, putting as much weight on her left leg as she could. Fire and pain lanced up from her other knee and she tasted blood from biting her cheek to keep quiet.
“Lord Defender, well done,” Ku-Shkii’s deep voice rumbled as he approached her over the bare-swept pavement.
She dipped her head lower before looking up at him. “Thank you, Imperial Majesty. Your Defenders fought well and the credit is theirs, not mine.”
Greenish-brown eyes narrowed with amusement. “They fought well because their commanding officer has been working for almost half a century to teach them how,” he said dryly, sounding so much like his uncle that Rada’s neck hair stood up. Ku-Shkii started to add something, then stopped as the Lord Defender’s leg buckled and she fell forward. She caught herself and struggled back onto her knee as the King-Emperor gestured and two Palace Guards came up behind her. They rose onto their hind legs, bent down and lifted their commander to her feet. “Go to your quarters, Lord Defender. Anything else can wait until you have recovered. We should not have asked so much of Our servant so soon,” Ku-Shkii admitted, his words as close to an apology as any King-Emperor ever came.
The Lord Defender waited until her liege lord and his council had gone indoors before she started to go. “Begging your pardon, Lord Mammal,” one of the guards offered tentatively, and she smiled.
“Thank you. I could use a little help, if you don’t have any other duties for a moment.” The larger of the two soldiers dropped back onto his forelegs and she leaned against him. The other trooper picked up her gear and followed behind, ready to catch her if she stumbled.
She dismissed the guards at the door to her quarters and limped in, shutting the door behind her and leaning against the heavy wood and brass as she caught her breath. The Lord Defender dragged herself across the room to the window seat and sank into the cushions. She sagged against the window frame and closed her eyes as she massaged the battered muscle and bone, trying to will the pain away. It didn’t hurt as badly as it had before, but it seemed like she could feel every muscle fiber and bone cell.
A few minutes later the clatter of talons on stone followed by a gasp told Rada that Zabet had returned from wherever she’d gone. The mammal didn’t open her eyes until she felt talons grasping her shoulders. «Pet! What happened!?» the True-dragon demanded, eyes full of worry.
“I got shot from behind because I was careless,” Rada replied. “No one told you?”
«No, I heard you were coming back, but no one said you’d been hurt!»
“It was a two part energy and mass shot. Shattered the bone just above my knee,” she explained.
«What about your ship’s medical equipment?» Zabet asked anxiously.
“It’s too late. And it doesn’t work that well on detailed injuries like this,” Rada temporized. “As best as the Healers can tell, I’ll get full motion back, but not the strength since the bone and muscles were damaged or severed.” She didn’t mention the probability of chronic pain. There was no point in upsetting Zabet any more than she already had.
«Oh Pet, I’m so sorry» and the reptile did her best to coil around the injured woman.
“Can you help me into my quarters, boss? I just want to get out of this armor and sleep.” The mammal started levering herself off the window seat. Zabet braced her legs and took as much weight off Rada’s damaged limb as possible, and they made their way to the sleeping area. The mammal shed her armor, weapons, and uniform, and washed a little before swinging onto the sleeping platform’s thick mattress.
She shivered from the chill in the bedding and her own exhaustion and hunger, worrying Zabet. «Are you sure you don’t need a Healer? You look like hell.»
“I feel like hell, but no, thanks,” Rada muttered, trying to relax and get warm. The True-dragon hesitated, turning from the officer to the doorway and back. “What’s the matter?”
«I’d promised to attend one of the Great Lords’ suppers tonight, before word of your return came in. I’ve been doing some business with his mistress and his steward, and,» Zabet broke off the thought, sounding apologetic.
“Go, boss. You promised and I’m not leaving this bed anytime before sunrise. Business is business,” and Rada yawned, eyes starting to close despite her best efforts. The Lord Defender fell asleep before her ‘concubine’ even closed the door.
It took two servants’ help for Rada to get out of bed, dressed in appropriate clothes, and into her public room for breakfast the next morning. Zabet was nowhere to be seen, as usual, and her business partner focused on eating and reading the reports coming in from the field. Then she rebandaged her leg and began writing up her own formal report of the past two sixt’s events. I wonder who was having a party in the midst of a war, she puzzled as she took a break, stretching her back and walking slowly back and forth across the public portion of her quarters. Someone scratched on the door and she called, “Enter.”
One of her orderlies, the disrespectful one, crept in and handed her a message from His Imperial Majesty. “Thank you,” she said absently. “You’re dismissed.”
The messenger hesitated, then dropped to his belly and stretched out his neck in submission. “Your pardon, Lord Defender, Lord Mammal, for my earlier behavior,” he hissed.
The Lord Defender allowed her eyebrow to rise, but that was the only emotion she showed. Should she? She approached him and frowned, making him cringe. “This time, you have my pardon. Never again. Is that clear?”
“Yes, L
ord Mammal! Thank you, gracious Lord Defender,” and she waved him away.
He vanished in a flurry of claws and tail tip and the corner of her mouth quirked up. How long will that last, hmmmm?
As the message requested, the next day the Lord Defender appeared in the lesser Audience Chamber shortly before the midday meal. Ku-Shkii, Minister of War Kaeshiri, the vizier, and other members of the Imperial Council were already waiting for her, and the Wanderer got a bit concerned as she approached the throne. She began to kneel but the King-Emperor waved her off. “We know of your indisposition, Lord Defender. You are excused from paying Us proper homage for the rest of the sixt,” Ku-Shkii announced and Rada bowed very low in thanks.
“We will be brief. In recognition of your work with Our troops, and your leadership against the Cygnid invasion, We have consulted with Our councilors for a proper reward. We are also aware of the difficulties you experienced with some of your officers,” his Imperial Majesty informed her.
The King-Emperor glanced at the vizier, who stepped forward and dipped his muzzle so he could see the Lord Defender clearly. “It is custom and law that no female has rights aside from those granted by her House Lord or mate, and never combat command over males. In your case, this is complicated by your being Head of House Ni Drako.” He stopped, and Kaeshiri picked up the theme.
“As a reward and solution to this difficulty, the Imperial Council and His Imperial Majesty rule that Lord Defender Commander Rada Lord Ni Drako is male under law, with all the rights, privileges, and duties as befits his sex,” the grey-green noble announced as the King-Emperor nodded.
For a split second Rada considered suggesting that they just change the law and not her gender, but caught herself. Don’t push it. Change comes slowly on this planet—be patient she decided.
The King-Emperor’s next words confirmed the prudence of silence. “Our late and revered Lord Uncle informed Us of your feud with the tarqina, and We have also let it be known that We will tolerate no interference with you while you are on our throneworld, Lord Ni Drako.”
