CHAPTER 27
2179 – Orbit of Colony Planet, White Earth
“Well played, Emerald Leaf. Well Played. Cut deep to center to intercept the Hoover wing coming in from the ceiling.” Potlatch Weaver, Elder Creator of the AmerIndian Confederacy, stood tall, handsome and regal on the bridge of outrider ship Dawn. Flanked by his two most skilled tacticians, Potlatch Weaver led his forces to a victory close at hand.
Barbed Ice traced his finger in the air and bright yellow target circles highlighted three AmerIndian Confederacy outrider ships on each of their comp sets. The three ships were now closing on the last vestiges of the once mighty White Earth UDA garrison fleet. Even bolstered by four hundred prime ships from the Earth Main fleet, UDA Admiral Crane had been unable to beat back the sudden, devastating strike of the AmerIndian Confederacy assault fleet. “They are coming in too close. Have these three outrider ships stay back a few moments longer and pound the UDA prime ships with their heavy rail guns a bit longer.” Barbed Ice looked to his companion Dre Doe for agreement. Dre Doe nodded.
Potlatch Weaver gave the command, seeing wisdom in their words, lending his leadership to make their thoughts efficient action. A thousand elements of success created and stolen by the AmerIndian Confederacy were congealing at this point in time to make every tribals dream a reality. White Earth would be the Homeland of the AmerIndian Confederacy. A Homeland denied for seven centuries would be theirs again. The Elder Creator looked on and struggled to contain premature joy. By all accounts the White Earth UDA garrison fleet would be put down within the hour. Potlatch Weaver refused to allow himself to be surprised when a Zuni messenger strode into the bridge carrying dark words.
“Word from the convoy, Elder Creator.”
A stillness blanketed the room. The fact that the AmerIndian Confederacy convoy had communicated with the assault fleet was evidence that their secret haven had been found by the UDA. It was the only possibility that would require the convoy to break the communication silence that masked their location.
Potlatch did not look at the messenger. “The word, tribal?”
“A fleet of UDA prime ships has correspondence jumped within range of the convoy. UDA Admiral Gavon Lige leads the fleet. With only thirty outrider ships left behind the convoy is now at the Admiral Lige’s mercy. The message convoy sent has video from Lige attached.” The messenger finger tapped and Potlatch Weaver’s comp set view filled with Lige's visage.
“Potlatch Weaver, while you waged an ambush on White Earth I have found your convoy. I hold the majority of the AmerIndian Confederacy’s tribals captive. Before you receive this message I will have every child transferred to one lodge ship. These children will be completely safe from harm. All AmerIndian Confederacy personnel on all of the other lodge ships are classified as terrorists, enemies of the UDA. If you do not cease your assault on White Earth immediately and correspondence jump every outrider ship to the location of the convoy for full surrender I will execute every terrorist tribal here. You have until six hundred hours, Earth time, to comply.”
The Elder Creator put his hands down onto the workstation close to where he had been standing. His head ached and his stomach was a ribbon of clenching snakes. The news was too much, too fast. In seconds, fifteen years of labor and sacrifice vanished. Defeat handed to him by the one man Potlatch Weaver had continually failed to defeat, Admiral Gavon Lige.
Potlatch Weaver steeled himself and stood straight. Dre Doe fired numbers through his head. “It's 1620 hours now. If we start the navcomps immediately we will be able to correspondence jump to the convoy in forty minutes.”
Potlatch's fist clenched. “They are all dead already.” Barbed Ice and Dre Doe froze as they listened to the Elder Creator. “Ferez Bear will not allow a single child to be taken from their mother. The convoy has, without a doubt, attacked Lige's fleet already. They will be slaughtered.”
Other tribal bridge pack members gathered round, including Dre Doe’s assistant, Broge. Potlatch Weaver showed his anger, his heavy hand slamming down at the workstation. “There is a UDA spy in our midst. It is the only way that Lige could have learned the location. Half of the outrider ships will stay to destroy the remains of the White Earth Garrison. Half of the outrider ships will return to the convoy to avenge their deaths. Set the navcomps running now. Ready my body tank. I will lead the ground assault on White Earth myself.”
Tribals scrambled to make Potlatch Weaver's words action. Each knew they were playing the end game and the advantage they enjoyed moments ago was gone.
Potlatch went to his body tank. The Elder Creator took his time donning the snow-white body tank crested with a golden eagle. He knew this would be the last time he would ever wear the armor.
AmerIndian 2192 Page 27
