by CH Gideon
“I think it is.” Xi shrugged. “There’s no sense arguing with the laws of physics, and there’s no sense trying to make someone into something he’ll never be. I’m not being punitive with Lu, I told him the truth. I need to see how Blinky performs for a few full shifts as a dedicated Wrench, and I’d like to see how Lu responds to what he probably sees as a demotion. Staubach’s obviously over-qualified to be a Monkey, and both his neural batteries and tactical reasoning show enough promise that he might even make Jock soon. As a potential bonus, I might also reignite the same passion in Lu that saw him enlist two days after the atrocity at New Australia became public knowledge. But that didn’t factor into my decision,” she said with conviction she didn’t entirely feel. “Any commander who lets personal feelings or grudges influence her command decisions doesn’t belong in the big chair. This is the best move not just for Elvira and her crew individually, but for the battalion as a whole, and I’ll stand by it if and when Chief Lu submits my order for official review.”
Samuels’ grin faded and was replaced with her professional veneer of detachment. “Thank you, Captain Xi.”
Xi suspected Samuels had been recording the conversation, so she had purposefully failed to mention the handful of times Lu had been mildly insubordinate. And her reason for leaving that part out was simple: she needed Lu, just like everyone else in the battalion needed him. And if she stabbed him in the back by airing those issues in public, she could kiss her hope for Elvira’s improved performance goodbye.
Xi hesitated for a long moment before closing the cockpit’s door and hailing Roy on the P2P. She was ready to discuss her theory about the bug vehicles with the smartest man in the battalion.
“Roy here,” greeted Styles. “What can I do for you, Elvira?”
“I need to run a theory by you,” Xi said with deliberate emphasis on the word “theory.”
He recognized her coded message indicating that she needed to discuss the bugs, evidenced by his next, “Stand by.” A few seconds later, his voice returned, and it was clear he had switched mics—and probably rooms. “Go ahead, Captain.”
“If I’m right about this,” she began, “then I think I know how to complete our secondary objective.”
The “secondary objective” was a coded reference to the diplomatic mission they had come to Shiva’s Wrath to conduct. Styles, ever the bright spark, replied, “I’m all ears, Xi.”
She explained her theory and, to her surprise, found very little in the way of criticism from Chief Styles.
Not long after Styles ended the call, Xi’s comm board showed an incoming missive summoning her to Roy.
Styles had apparently recommended she join them to discuss her budding theory, so Xi donned her rebreather and made her way to the battalion’s command vehicle.
This wasn’t the kind of thing to be discussed in the open, even on a nominally-secure P2P line.
“All right, Captain,” Jenkins said after Xi had closed the cabin door behind her. “Start at the top.”
Xi stood opposite from the seated Jenkins, while Styles sat beside Xi as the young woman replied, “I think I know how to make contact with the bugs, Colonel.”
“So Mr. Styles tells me.” Jenkins nodded toward the technician. “But I need details, Captain Xi, and I need them now.”
“Vorr are an aquatic species largely similar to the octopus,” Xi explained. “They regenerate their limbs, and part of their customary greeting posture is to willingly surrender a portion of one of their own limbs in order to allow the faction they are greeting to appraise it, usually via consumption.”
“I’m aware of Vorr social quirks.” Jenkins’ eyes narrowed. “But we’re here to talk about the bugs, not the Vorr.”
“I’m aware of that, Colonel,” she said, firmly holding her ground. “But I think Vorr greeting rituals informed this species as to how they’re supposed to greet others.”
Jenkins cocked his head in mild confusion, flicking his eyes to Styles, who nodded approvingly. The colonel leaned back. “I don’t follow.”
“The Vorr have some kind of diplomatic relationship with the bugs,” Xi explained. “It stands to reason that during first contact, they probably greeted these new aliens according to some modified version of their cultural practices.”
“They fed them parts of themselves—” Jenkins nodded, having followed that much. “—or surrendered tech or some other valuable resource as an opening gesture of goodwill.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed. “Now, these aliens are largely unknown, but it seems that both the Vorr and the Jemmin are familiar with them. I base that on the orbital strike the Jemmin warship sent down after the lone survivor of my engagement with the bugs. Why send an orbital strike down on a lone, wounded vehicle and risk aggravating the situation with us? It doesn’t make sense unless the Jemmin already know about this species and, unlike the Vorr, don’t have a working relationship with them.”
Jenkins’ eyes flicked over to Styles, who was nodding slowly. “Go on, Captain.” Jenkins gestured invitingly.
“I think the Vorr knew enough about human social customs,” Xi continued, “that they intended to act as intermediaries to facilitate a smoother introduction between ourselves and these bugs. The Jemmin, knowingly or not, interrupted that by driving the Vorr off this rock and leaving both us and the bugs to figure each other out without a manual.”
“Nearly every first contact situation in recorded history involving unknown species has ended catastrophically,” Styles interjected in support of her supposition.
“I don’t think the Jemmin knew about the bugs before they withdrew the bulk of their fleet, sir,” Xi said confidently. “Otherwise, I doubt they would have left just one ship in orbit. When they fired on that fleeing bug, they were making it as clear as a Solarian’s conscience that they didn’t want us meeting these new aliens.”
Jenkins nodded, having already arrived at much of this behind closed doors with Styles. “What is your recommendation, Captain?”
“Look at these after-action reports, Colonel,” Xi urged, proffering a data slate. “The highlights are mine.”
Jenkins scrolled down the record, finding the indicated passages that compared the number of mechs on battalion patrols when they encountered the bug vehicles. His eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. “They’re all perfect matches…”
“Four vs. four, three vs. three, four vs. four.” Xi nodded eagerly. “Even in my last engagement, I had six mechs before the Jemmin attacked. I lost two mechs, but six bugs appeared...”
“And two held back,” Jenkins finished, more than slightly alarmed that no one else had noticed this fact earlier.
“Making that engagement four vs. four,” she finished emphatically. “And twice these bugs have gone head-on to me near the end of the engagements. I didn’t understand it before, but I think I do now.” She squared her shoulders and stiffened her posture. “I think they were attempting to initiate a social exchange of some kind.”
“If so, why the ambushes?” Jenkins pressed. “If they wanted to talk with us, why attack us and tear our mechs down?”
Styles leaned forward intently. “Xenopsychology is anything but intuitive, Colonel. Even anthropologists have trouble coming to a consensus on the root meaning of a simple gesture like the human smile. We think of it as a universally pleasant display, but think about it for a second: you’re baring your teeth at someone when you smile. When do most animals on Earth bare their teeth?”
“It’s a threat display.” Xi nodded in seeming agreement.
“Which means it’s possible,” Styles continued, “that humans are such aggressive and violent creatures that we consider certain teeth-baring displays to be friendly. And think about handshakes. Few people stop and consider what you’re doing by shaking someone else’s hand, but it’s usually right-hand-on-right-hand,” he explained, picking up steam as he went, “and since most people are right-handed...”
“It’s a gesture of temporary mutual di
sarmament,” Xi finished with certainty. “Like a salute harkens back to knightly visors needing to be raised while approaching on horseback.”
“And salutes are done with the right hand.” Styles nodded approvingly. “Which, again, is a tacit agreement to mutually disarm long enough to attempt a peaceful exchange. But we take all of those gestures for granted because they’re based on our physiologies and social traditions.”
“It’s possible the bugs are just following their social programming the same way we do with salutes and handshakes.” Xi shrugged. “Maybe they view an ambush like we view a smile? It’s a threat display, yes, but it’s obviously got limits. And maybe—” Her visage hardened as she finished. “—just maybe, we’re failing to observe those limits because we don’t yet know what they are.”
“And if the Jemmin thought we couldn’t crack the code,” Styles said pointedly, “they wouldn’t have fired on the fleeing bug. They’d have just let us keep beating our forces against each other.”
“The Jemmin are nervous, Colonel,” Xi declared without reservation, “and I think I know how to move this social exchange with the bugs forward a step or two.”
“Let’s say you’re right,” Jenkins allowed, “and let’s say that the bugs do ambush you again, giving you a chance to test your theory. What about the Jemmin? They’re not going to lie down while you try to introduce the Terran Republic to this new species.”
“If I’m right, Colonel,” Xi said heavily, “then the only way we get off this rock alive is by contacting these bugs and initiating diplomatic overtures. Together we can probably defeat the Jemmin and clear an exit path from Shiva’s Wrath. But without help…” she trailed off grimly.
Unfortunately, Jenkins knew she was right. The conflict on this frozen ball had boiled down to a war of attrition, and it was clear that the Jemmin still held the upper hand in numbers and lethality. All the Jemmin had to do was wait long enough for the radiation to kill the human intruders.
“All right…” Jenkins leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Let’s hear your plan.”
14
Symmetry
The next day, as Shiva’s Wrath slowly passed into the shadow of its parent planet, Xi was out on patrol attached to 7th Platoon attached to 3rd Company. In another day and a half, Shiva’s Wrath would be plunged into a dark, eclipse-driven “night” that would last for four standard days. That meant Xi needed to get lucky if she was to execute her plan under better conditions.
Part of her plan required her to be with a new unit, and Lieutenant Jesse Winters’ company-command platoon was down a mech after the latest Jemmin attack. She thought it an ideal candidate for her first test. Also unbeknownst to her current patrol mates, she had canceled all direct fire support from HQ, authorizing nothing but missile shield support from the rest of the battalion.
She needed to be at her best to pull this off. Thankfully, and true to form, Podsy had been able to deliver a badly-needed replacement leg for Elvira, which Koch’s people had finished installing mere minutes before Winters’ patrol left HQ.
“All right, Generally,” Xi called as the group reached its zenith, “they didn’t hit us, so it’s time to pay up.”
“We haven’t reached the patrol’s apex yet, Captain,” protested Winters, Generally’s Jock.
“Come on, Winters,” Xi quipped. “You’ve been bragging about out-flanking me since you transferred over from Terra Han PDF. You lost, so pay up.”
“C’mon, Captain,” Winters pleaded as they officially reached the patrol’s farthest point, “double or nothing.”
“Better back off, LT,” interrupted Colossus’ Jock with a chuckle. “I heard she rearranged Forktail’s face but good back on Durgan’s Folly. Rumor has it she’s long on temper and short on mercy.”
“I’m a woman, Colossus,” Xi quipped, “what’d you expect? You try playing with the physicality short stack in every single fight of your life and see how merciful you are.”
“Brutally honest,” Lieutenant Winters mused. “I like that in a woman. Even more in a CO.”
“Luckily for both of us, I’m neither to you, Generally,” Xi said with a grin. “Consider this a one-off walk around the block so I can get to know Last Company a little better.”
“Ouch,” Colossus laughed at the “Last Company” insult, which had grown in popularity after Winters had demonstrated himself a more-than-capable unit commander. “You gonna stand for that, LT?”
“Doesn’t sound like I’ll be taking it lying down.” Winters sighed.
“You take it however you can get it, Generally,” Xi snickered.
“You got me there, Captain.”
She enjoyed the banter beyond the pale. It was one of the few ways she felt connected with her comrades. No matter how dank or queasy the subject became, she always felt like it was in those moments that she was most connected with the men and women who fought alongside her.
“Hold up,” Leapfrog interjected. “I’m reading seismic disturbances.”
“Defensive posture.” Xi felt a thrill as the moment of truth approached. “Do not fire unless fired upon.”
“What?” Winters blurted in alarm. “Say again, Elvira?”
But before she could reply, the ice-field around them erupted as four breach points appeared. Showers of icy shards flew upward amid roiling clouds of steam, behind which a quartet of bug vehicles appeared.
The bugs had appeared in a picture-perfect diamond pattern near-perfectly centered on her mech. That display of geometric precision meant they had once again precisely predicted her patrol’s path well in advance.
The bugs unleashed a quartet of plasma streams at the towering, humanoid Colossus. Two beams splashed off the mech’s robustly-armored shoulders while its legs were struck by one apiece. The largest mech in the patrol staggered, teetering on the very edge of its ability to balance, before righting itself and squaring to a bug vehicle.
Generally’s artillery roared, sending HE shells into one of the bugs while Colossus’ coilguns sent hundreds of rounds per second at the nearest target. Leapfrog sent a dozen missile-intercept drones into the sky while engaging its own target with a pair of chain guns.
Xi admired the platoon’s ferocity and fast response, but for her plan to work, she needed them to do the unthinkable.
“Cease fire! Cease fire,” she repeated over the 7th Platoon channel. “7th Platoon, cease fire!”
Slowly, 7th Platoon complied, and a few seconds later, all guns were silent. “Captain?” Lieutenant Winters demanded. “What are you doing?”
“Hold your fire, 7th Platoon,” Xi commanded. “As battalion XO, I’m temporarily assuming operational command of this patrol.”
“You’re what!?” he asked in mixed confusion and anger.
“Under no circumstances are you to open fire, Lieutenant Winters,” Xi continued, walking Elvira forward while ignoring his somewhat-understandable bout of insubordination. “7th Platoon, fall back on heading one-seven-five at twenty KPH. Acknowledge.”
“I’m not about to surrender operational command without an explanation, Elvira,” Winters snapped, bristling just as she had expected he would. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Stand down, Generally,” she barked as the insect vehicles continued to circle, but thankfully did not open fire.
Yet.
“Negative, Captain,” Winters refused. “This patrol’s orders are to engage hostile targets. These things have opened fire without provocation, and I am authorizing my people to—”
As he spoke, Xi pivoted Elvira so that her right-flank chain guns were trained on the heavily-armored Generally. She unleashed those guns against Generally’s formidable forward hull, stabbing sixty slugs into his composite armor before ceasing fire.
“You have your orders, Lieutenant,” she growled. “Move off on heading one-seven-five at twenty KPH. Now!”
“You have just opened fire on an allied vehicle,” Winters sneered. “You’ll los
e your command over this!”
“Acknowledge your orders, Generally,” Xi said through gritted teeth, knowing that much depended on his compliance.
Several taut seconds passed before Winters replied, “7th Platoon, fall back on course one-seven-five. Speed: twenty KPH.”
The trio of mechs began to withdraw, and for a moment, Xi was afraid she had erred. All four of the bugs remained on the field, maintaining their perfectly-symmetrical diamond pattern as they circled her position.
Then it happened.
The nearest bug, which was as-yet undamaged, turned to face her while the others made for the icy tunnels from which they had sprung mere minutes earlier.
Seconds after they had shifted their posture, the three bugs disappeared down the holes.
“I’ll be damned…” Winters muttered.
Then, just as Xi had predicted, the tactical plotter lit up with dozens of missile signatures.
Jemmin missile signatures.
“7th Platoon,” she called, “you are authorized to engage inbound missiles only. Do not, I say again, do not under any circumstances interfere with my engagement. Acknowledge.”
“7th Platoon acknowledges,” Winters agreed, his former anger and surprise replaced with professionalism. Just as Xi had hoped it would be.
Leapfrog and Generally sent anti-missile rockets into the sky, while Colossus’ trio of railguns stabbed at inbound missiles. The early miss rate was concerning, but Xi had more important things to worry about than dealing with a few missiles that might kill her while she wasn’t looking.
She had a fight to win.
“Eighty-four Jemmin missiles inbound on Elvira’s position, Colonel,” Styles reported.
“Coordinate with Bahamut Zero,” Jenkins ordered. “I don’t want a single strike within five hundred meters of Elvira’s position.”
Rockets soared into the sky and railguns stabbed upward, scrubbing no more than a quarter of their targets. But as had been demonstrated amply throughout human history, quantity had a quality all its own.