by S. H. Jucha
Olawale saw Lucia shaking her head in disbelief at the Norsitchian lack of preparations.
“How many shuttles made it planetside?” Olawale asked.
“Sixteen, I’m disheartened to admit,” Nemanous replied. “After that, captains and shuttle pilots took it upon themselves to ram the transports. We hurriedly built drone shuttles to continue to do the same thing.”
“Ensure you keep your drone shuttles away from our Tridents and travelers, when they eliminate the Colony’s transports,” Olawale warned. “You’ll recognize our travelers, which are fighters. They’ll appear like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“Minister Nemanous, this is Captain Jess Cinders. What can you tell us about what happened after the shuttles landed?”
“Captain Cinders, welcome to Norsitchia. We’re relieved to know you’re here,” Nemanous said respectfully.
Jess glanced guiltily at Lucia about the recognition, and the corners of her mouth twitched in a hint of a smile.
“In answer to your question, Captain,” Nemanous said, “the shuttles dispersed over the planet. They landed in remote areas of the population. We do have a citizen’s recording, which partially captured a landing.”
Orbit sent.
The Rêveur’s holo-vid lit, and the shaky recording played. It was obvious the citizen who captured the imagery was in fear for his or her life.
“We’re watching the recording now,” Olawale said.
Menous barked a laugh, and Nemanous glanced in perplexity at a tech aide, who held up his hands in confusion. Nemanous filed away that bit of information. The visitors had the capability to retrieve Norsitchian files at their pleasure.
On the holo-vid, the recorder’s view slipped to the side, as the shuttle shook the ground and touched down. When the view returned, the engines had shut off. There was a long period of inactivity, while the landing site cooled.
Then the shuttle’s hatch opened. A meshed, flexible ladder descended to the ground. Then reds and grays erupted from the hatch and scurried down the ladder.
The reds wore weapons slung on harnesses over their backs. The grays were empty-legged.
As soon as the insectoids hit the ground, they scurried away, quickly disappearing from view. They’d run in different directions.
When a gray came toward the viewer, the recording captured a hasty retreat and soon ended.
“Minister, I would guess that you don’t have an accurate count of the number of insectoids carried by a shuttle,” Jess ventured.
“No, we don’t,” Nemanous admitted.
“Minister, I’m Commandant Tuttle of Pyre. What is the count of insectoid dead?”
“Less than fifty,” Nemanous replied, “and some of those were accidental.”
“How can that be?” Menous asked stridently, incredulous at the low count.
“Allow me to explain, Commander,” Nemanous replied. By his tone, it was obvious that he wasn’t pleased by the implied rebuke. He sounded stressed and tired. “The shuttles landed throughout the cycles, day and night. However, after the insectoids exited the shuttles, they weren’t seen again.”
“Explain, Minister,” Esteban requested.
“Hundreds of our citizens, armed with all manner of weapons and tools, hunted several of the landing sites,” Nemanous continued. “They found not a single red or gray.”
“Why do you suppose that was?” Jess asked.
“In hindsight, we believe it was the Colony’s plan to separate, range far from their shuttles, and go to ground,” Nemanous replied. “We believe they traveled by night and hid during the day. When the attacks came, they were far from the landing sites.”
“How many citizens have been killed?” Menous asked.
“Thousands,” Nemanous replied. “We’ve also lost installations to the reds’ weapons. That happened at night. Lately, those types of attacks have ceased. We think the reds brought a limited number of projectiles for their tube weapons, and they’ve run out.”
The SADEs used the geopositioning data to examine insectoid actions. Generally, the reports seemed to indicate that the insectoids were hunting singly. Then they totaled the number of kill zones and divided by the number of Colony’s shuttles. The final calculation was at odds with the acquired citizen death records.
“Minister Nemanous, when did the first Colony shuttles land?” Juliette asked.
“Three ... no, closer to four annuals ago,” Nemanous replied. “Why?”
Juliette turned to her audience. “Is anyone aware of an insectoid life cycle ... gestation period, birth method, typical offspring number, and growth rate of the juveniles?”
Everyone was clueless.
“Minister Nemanous, we analyzed the records on your citizens’ deaths,” Juliette explained. “We were intent on calculating the insectoid number that exited the shuttles. However, our projected count, assuming full-grown adults, would exceed the shuttles’ volume capacity.”
“What are you saying?” Nemanous asked. His concern was rising, and the faces that surrounded him reflected their anxiousness.
“The SADEs are in agreement,” Juliette replied. “There are more zones of citizenry death, which are attributed to the insectoids, than the numbers that could have possibly left the shuttles. It’s our consideration that you have a growing infestation from insectoid juveniles.”
The Omnians eyed one another. The SADEs reaching consensus amounted to a nearly one hundred percent certainty.
“It’s likely the Colony sent pregnant females aboard those shuttles,” Patrice said. “Admittedly, despite its insidiousness, it’s a genius stroke.”
“Minister Nemanous, are the attacks still occurring at night?” Sam asked.
“Yes,” Nemanous replied.
“Do you have about two hundred and twenty thermal-imaging goggles?” Sam asked.
“If not, we’ll have them within the cycles before you arrive.” Nemanous replied, hope rising in his voice.
“I’d advise you to hurry, Minister,” Menous said. “Our visitors travel faster than you would believe.”
The call ended, and many eyes turned toward Sam.
“Don’t look at me,” Sam objected. “I consider myself the supply officer, and I just requisitioned materials necessary to facilitate a night hunt.”
Then attention turned to Jess, who was lost in thought.
Menous cleared his throat to speak, but Lucia’s hand signal warned him to silence.
“How many kill zones are we looking at by the attackers’ sizes?” Jess asked.
The holo-vid activated. It displayed an image of the planet. Bright pinpoints of light populated the surface.
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Aputi groaned.
“Not an accurate statement, but the sentiment fits,” Esteban commented. “We estimate that there were three hundred twenty adults delivered by the shuttles. They constitute the wider kill zones and the majority of citizenry deaths. The population has reduced these active sites to two hundred seventy-four. In addition, what started as about seventy-four attacks, indicative of juveniles, has grown to two hundred three.”
“Those numbers seem odd,” Francis interjected. “You’d think an insectoid species would produce a huge amount of young at every birth.”
“The Messinants changed many details within a species genome when they uplifted them,” Tacnock pointed out. “The number of young might have been one of those tweaks.”
“Quite possibly the juveniles are vulnerable to the environment,” Menous suggested. “Nonsentient small insects typically leave their eggs or hatchlings to fend for themselves.”
“Fact of the matter is that the attacks by the juveniles are growing,” Olawale said. “Who knows at what rate the adults are producing offspring. The Colony has a foothold on this planet, and they’re going to continue to hide out and grow their numbers until they can overtake the population. We need to quickly mount a search for them and hunt them down.”
Jess belatedly noticed attention had focused on him. He regarded Olawale and said, “I think our strategy will be more like bait and pounce.”
-27-
Bait and Pounce
The fleet made station high above Norsitchia. The Tridents had eliminated the transports. The full and the empty vessels were now space dust.
Minister Nemanous delivered. A traveler was sent planetside to retrieve the packages — three hundred pairs of thermal imaging goggles. The minister and members of the Planetary Defense were treated to a spectacle of Omnian technology. The traveler landed outside PD headquarters instead of at the nearby shuttle port.
Two crew members leapt through the hatch, saluted the minister, snatched the boxes, and climbed into the ship. Not a word was exchanged. More impressive, the ship made not a sound.
Jess held a pair of the infrared goggles in his hand. The minister had ensured the operation manual, which was on a Norsitchian device, was included. Menous translated the critical operations and control information for the group, who sat around a table in an empty dining room.
“I don’t wish to ask questions after the fact,” Aputi said, “but are we sure infrared goggles will be effective? After all, these are oversized insects.”
“They’ll work, believe me,” Sam replied. “Once you’ve had insectoid blood splashed in your face and mouth, you don’t forget the scintillatingly warm flavors.”
Aputi blanched and shuddered at the prospect.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Daktora said, and he smacked his long tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Yum,” he added.
“Enough,” Ophelia said sternly. “You’re making me green.”
“It’s an attractive color,” Bortoth jested, and his audience, except for Aputi, Patrice, and Ophelia, of course, laughed.
“I would like more details about your plan, Captain,” Menous requested.
“Commander, if you’re expecting a complete set of tactics from launch to landing to execution, you’re going to be disappointed,” Jess replied. “The important thing is to remain flexible. We learn as we go. We communicate, share what we learn, and adapt our techniques.”
Jess nodded toward the holo-vid at the end of the table. Esteban displayed the locales that marked the deaths of Norsitchian citizens from contact with insectoids. The brilliant yellow dots marked the planet, as it slowly rotated.
“The Colony did a nice job of dispersing their landings,” Lucia noted, “but always within the equatorial belt.”
Something about Lucia’s comment tickled a thought in Jess’s brain, but he made the mistake of glancing toward her, and his mind went elsewhere.
“I would imagine that region is better hunting for food,” Tacnock commented. “The juveniles could feed on insects, rodents, and small birds, which would be plentiful.”
“We’ll have to divide our forces,” Jess said. “Olawale, can your ships view spectral readings at a detailed level to resolve the adults?”
“The Tridents would be challenged if conditions weren’t good,” Olawale said. “We’ve already seen significant cloud cover and heavy rains, but at low altitudes, the travelers would have extremely accurate thermal readings.”
Jess nodded his head, the information adding to his plan. “Sam, how many of the Sylian survivors are Omnian security?”
“Seven, including myself,” Sam replied.
Jess counted on his hands. He used all ten digits. “Okay, this is our approach,” he said.
Juliette and Esteban understood the basics of Jess’s plan. The holo-vid display was augmented. Large light blue elliptical ovals covered swaths of the planet’s equatorial belt. Each one encompassed many of the kill zones.
“Captain, these represent the extent of coverage a traveler can monitor for you,” Juliette said.
Jess smiled gratefully at the SADEs.
Juliette thought, You do need an implant, Captain, especially if Lucia is to be your partner. Lucia’s behavior in Jess’s presence was obvious to the SADEs. Her implant’s biorhythm data confirmed what they’d observed.
“I’m new to this kind of operation. Someone explain, please,” Aputi said.
“Jess pointed out the need for us to communicate, but we must divide our forces and spread out over distant areas, my brother,” Sam replied. “He was counting implants and comms on his hands ... seven security personnel, two SADEs, and one commodore makes ten. In addition, ten travelers will fly overwatch, and those with implants and comms can link to the travelers’ network.”
“We need this technology,” Ophelia murmured.
Aputi still wore a frown, and Lucia added, “The travelers and the comms network will provide real-time surveillance. We’ll program the controllers to identify the insectoids. The adults will stand out at night, except in torrential rain. An Omnian in each command can coordinate with the traveler in overwatch, and the traveler can deliver the direction and the distance of an approaching adult to the Norsitchian ear wigs.”
Menous hadn’t followed the concept either, but he was loath to ask questions and seem less than seasoned. He was grateful for Aputi’s desire to understand, regardless of how it made him appear.
Aputi’s frown remained, and he asked the one question that had been at the heart of his confusion. “Then we’re not hunting the insectoids?” he asked.
“No,” Jess replied. “We’re bait. The insectoids will hunt us.”
“Your plan places a brassard in each command,” Menous said. “That doesn’t cover much ground.”
“I don’t intend to ...” Jess said. Then he halted, walked to the serving bar, collected four small plates, and returned. He placed them on the table in a box pattern. “Each brassard is twenty individuals, correct, Commander?”
Menous tipped his head in agreement.
“A traveler drops one brassard, one Omnian, and possibly one of the others of us in an insectoid zone,” Jess explained. “You form each brassard into four squads and appoint squad leaders. The Omnian with an implant or comm will guide the squad leader in deploying the five-member team. Then each squad will set up a defensive perimeter.”
“This is possible?” Menous asked dubiously. “That we’ll receive communications in this manner?” In his ear wig, he heard Juliette say, “It will happen just the way you’re hearing me now.”
“Can all Omnians do this?” Menous asked, touching his ear wig and gazing around at the group.
“No,” Juliette replied. “Only SADEs can directly communicate with your ear wigs, but an Omnian human can communicate with a nearby traveler, and the ship’s controller can relay their thoughts to your ear wigs.”
“Again, real-time surveillance and real-time warnings,” Lucia stated proudly.
“So, we’re bait, but what if we don’t catch anything?” Aputi asked.
“That’s when we adapt,” Jess replied. “In this case, the travelers’ silent approaches are our primary assets. As dusk descends on any zone around the planet, a command drops. They wait. No bites ... they move on.”
“The traveler pilots will be able to redirect the commands,” Lucia said. “Whether a command gets bites in the new zone will be a matter of fortune.”
“Then it’s possible for us to ambush the insectoids in several locations each night,” Sam rea
lized. “I like it,” he declared, grinning.
Preparations were made to get underway, and the group disbanded to get some rest. Evening would fall around the planet, pursuing its cycle, and the commands would land at dusk in their assigned zones.
Jess stretched out on top of his bed. He’d only closed his eyes, when the cabin door slid aside.
Lucia closed the door behind her. She slipped off her deck boots, removed her uniform jacket, and crawled into bed beside Jess. She snuggled against him, released a soft sigh, and closed her eyes.
Hours later, Lucia’s implant and Jess’s comm chronometer woke the two of them.
“That was good for me. How was it for you?” Jess quipped.
“Your time will come, Ser,” Lucia replied. Then she gave him a kiss on the cheek, dressed, and left the cabin.
“I can’t wait,” Jess whispered wistfully.
* * * * *
A traveler from the Judgment collected the other security team members and deposited them on the Rêveur. Over the course of the following cycle, Jess assigned brassards, Sylian veterans, and the new members, Menous and Aputi, to ten of the fleet’s travelers.
Menous had spoken with forty senior Norsitchians and delegated them as squad leaders. Then he reviewed the tactics several times with them.
Although Menous had briefed his brassards, Jess repeated his instructions before each load of troops boarded. He introduced the brassards to the individuals who would act as their communicator and possibly their commander. In the five circumstances where junior Omnian security personnel were assigned the task of communications, Jess supported the first four by assigning Tacnock, Bortoth, Daktora, and himself to one brassard. Menous commanded the fifth brassard, and Aputi supported him.
Jess boarded the last traveler to land aboard the liner. He and an Omnian named Lizzie, short for Elizabeth, climbed through the hatch and were followed by the brassard.
Jess sat next to Lizzie, and they reviewed the tactics and the potential challenges of executing them.
At one point, Jess’s concerns had him chewing his lower lip. He was wondering if there was anything he’d forgotten to tell the brassards. His faith was in the Sylian veterans, who could quickly respond to new hazards they might face.