“What is it, Czajka,” Jates growled. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all Goddamned day.”
“Your language is, um, a lot more colorful than the last time we served together. Like, you really know human slang. How’d you do that?”
To Dave’s surprise, Jates turned to him with his expression softening, and lowered his voice. “When Colonel Perkins assigned me to train a group of human recruits in Verd-kris combat tactics, I had not a single fucking clue what to do. So, I read a few training manuals from human military units, and realized your initial training is not that different from what I experienced. What was different is the way your instructors speak, so I had my translator,” he tapped the zPhone in his vest pocket, “reprogrammed to mimic the speech patterns of great instructors from your history.”
“You can do that?” Jesse asked, surprised.
“Yes. The translator learned from humans like Gunny Hartman, Sergeant Apone, Master Guns Fick, Sergeants Gibs, Hulka, and Zim, among others. They were very,” he smiled as he realized he was making a pun, “instructive,” he finished with a slow wink.
“Uh, yeah, um,” Jesse looked to Dave, who nodded for him to continue. “You realize those are fictional characters, right? I mean, that’s Full Metal Jacket, Aliens, uh-”
Dave completed the thought, counting off on his fingers. “I know Fick from Arisen, um, I think Gibs is from the Commune series? Hulka is the sergeant from Stripes. I don’t know any Zim.”
“Zim is from Starship Troopers,” Jesse announced with a smug grin.
“Yes, so?” Jates’s expression was no longer so friendly. “Fictional characters are archetypes. You can learn much about a culture by studying their fictional heroes.”
“I guess so,” Dave admitted, that not being anything he had ever thought much about. “What have they taught you about human culture?”
“That,” Jates cocked his head, “you certainly are strange motherfuckers.”
“Oh,” Shauna groaned as she stepped out of the truck and took in the glorious vista of the Kristang village they were supposed to clear. With sagging roofs, busted-out windows and broken-down vehicles littering the streets, the place looked like it had been a slum even before the Legion arrived. “This is gonna suck.”
“You want me to fluff a pillow for you, Jarrett?” Jates growled, sighting along the village’s main street with the scope of his rifle. Shauna noticed the Verd was using proper trigger discipline, with his finger above and alongside the trigger guard. She also noticed both of his rifle’s safeties were disengaged. “Maybe you stay here with the truck, take your boots off? It’s fuzzy slippers time for the princess.”
Shauna knew the Verd Surgun was baiting her, partly to make a point to the others in the two squads. “Surgun, all I meant was, this village was trashed before we got here. The lizards won’t think twice about blowing up this hellhole, so if we’re going to find IEDs anywhere on this planet, that village is it.”
“I vote we take cover behind that ridge,” Dave pointed behind them, “and lob some antipersonnel artillery rounds into the village square. Maybe we trigger any boobytraps that way.”
“Vote?” Jates shot Dave a disparaging look. “I did not realize we were taking votes. Show me the section of Legion regs about voting, Czajka.”
“I was just blowing off steam, Surgun,” Dave shook his head. “How you want us to do this?”
“I don’t want to do this at all,” Jates surprisingly admitted. “The Legion needs this particular goat to get fucked, and it ain’t gonna fuck itself, you hear?” He turned to address the two squads. “Colter, you take Bravo Squad. Czajka, see what you can do with the rest of these idiots.”
Nert was helping Shauna unload scanning equipment from the back of their truck. “This sucks,” he groaned, making Shauna turn to see if he was putting on an act for her. The resigned disgusted look on his fuzzy face assured her the teenager was not trying to impress her as he wrestled a bulky scanner drone out past the liftgate.
“Don’t worry, Nert, this village isn’t big. We’ll be done before the sun goes down. We need to test the drones anyway.” Under her breath, she added “Most of the equipment the Legion got so far has been sketchy.”
“I know someone has to do this, but-” he stopped to release the drone’s restraining straps.
“But what?”
Nert shook his head. “My people have developed incredible technology that can travel faster than light, and my mother is on the technology development committee.”
“Yeah, so?” Shauna asked, distracted as she struggled to unfold a scanner’s creepy spider-like legs. “Why does that matter?”
“Because,” the Ruhar teenager grunted as he lifted a second scanner by himself. “What our stupid scientists really need to invent is a self-fucking goat.”
Shauna exploded with laugher, made more intense by the angry scowl on Nert’s face.
“What?” He demanded.
Shauna leaned against the truck and wiped tears from her eyes. “Oh, Nerty, you keep being your sweet self, and we’ll get through this just fine.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Good morning, Colonel,” General Ross rose halfway out of the folding chair in his office, and waved a hand toward the Kristang woman seated across the makeshift desk. “You know Burtal Emmit Zaring?”
Perkins nodded to each in turn. “Only by reputation,” she acknowledged the Verd-kris commander, Ross’s counterpart for the Verd half of the Legion. The Verd rank of ‘Burtal’ was roughly equivalent to Ross as a general. Ross wore the two stars of a major general on his uniform, while Zaring had high-tech nanoparticle tattoos of three triangles along her jaw to designate her rank. The tattoos could fade away for camouflage or glow faintly in the dark. Emily Perkins was glad that her rank insignia pinned onto her uniform rather than being embedded in her skin.
Zaring and Ross were equivalent in rank and in the Alien Legion’s official organizational table, with both of them reporting to a Ruhar officer and the civilian Commissioner at the top. Because there were far more Verd troops than humans landing on Fresno, Zaring should have held more influence than Ross. The Legion’s Ruhar leaders instead consulted Ross more often, and humans were assigned to take and hold the most critical sectors on Fresno for one simple reason: the Ruhar did not entirely trust the Verd-kris. Humans were not fully trusted either, but the Ruhar figured a small number of primitive humans could not cause much trouble. So far, there had not been any tension between the far more numerous, more advanced and better-equipped Verds, and their primitive human allies. Ross and Zaring were determined to lead by example and present a united front to the Ruhar.
To date, there had been very little contact between the two components of the Alien Legion, so Perkins was sweating what would happen when the two groups came into contact or worse, into conflict. Preventing such conflict, and having a plan to quash any incidents, was a major reason for that day’s meeting. It had been decided, well before the D-Day landings, that humans and Verds would have separate zones of responsibility, until so much of the planet’s surface had been pacified and evacuated that their expanding zones had to overlap.
Perkins was looking forward to that day.
“You have quite a reputation, Col-Oh-Nel Per-Kins,” Zaring pronounced carefully as she stood up and executed a slight bow.
Then the alien stuck out her hand, and Perkins shook it warily. She estimated the Verd stood over six and a half feet tall, likely taller, and had the solid muscles of the warrior caste that Perkins was all too familiar with. Except Verd society had no formal caste structure, and was generally matriarchal. And Zaring was a woman. Unlike Kristang females, Emmit Zaring was tall, strong, intelligent, and her being in a position of authority was a jarring reminder that while the Verd-kris shared their ancestry with the Kristang, their cultures were wildly different.
Perkins also found it jarring that the alien woman was named ‘Emmit’.
They sat down and Ross had aides bring in ho
t beverages, then got to business. “Perkins, you have been sharing intel with your Verd counterpart, and you have news for us?
Perkins took a sip of coffee. “There are signs this little world could become a hot zone. The Swift Arrows offered to give us Fresno rather easily, they didn’t want to waste resources fighting the Ruhar over a backwater planet while they are engaged in a civil war. Now, we’ve learned there are military units from many other clans here, under overall command by the Swift Arrows. That is extremely unusual, especially during a civil war. We think the Kristang are considering changing their minds about surrendering Fresno, and other clans sent warriors here to support the Swift Arrows. We know for sure they have more warriors on the ground than we expected.”
Ross frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He already had a persistent ache at the back of his head from too much stress and too little sleep. “They consider going back on the surrender deal, because they think the Legion is a soft target?”
“Maybe,” Perkins shrugged. “That’s got to be part of their calculations. They must know that if the hamsters really were serious about taking this place, they would have assigned it to their Federal Army. We don’t know what Swift Arrow leadership is thinking, but we know what they’re doing. They have pulled ships away from planned offensive campaigns against rival clans, back to defend their core territory. Indications are the other major clans view the Swift Arrows as weak for losing this world to a group of humans and,” she shot a guilty glance at Zaring, “traitors. Sorry for that.”
The Burtal made a dismissive gesture. “We know what the warrior caste thinks of us. Their disdain only makes us more determined. The Swift Arrows cannot afford to be thought of as weak, their position in the civil war relies heavily on fragile alliances.” She took another sip from the mug. “If they want to show how tough they are, pushing back against the Legion here is a cheap, low-risk way to start. Their leadership may decide that breaking an agreement with the Ruhar is worth showing the other clans that they can defend their territory.”
“That’s not the only question, is it?” Ross leaned forward onto the desk, making the flimsy structure wobble. “It doesn’t matter what the Swift Arrows think, if the Thuranin won’t support them. Fresno became vulnerable because of Thuranin losses to the Jeraptha, not because the Swift Arrows couldn’t support their own presence here any longer. The Thuranin are busy causing trouble with the Bosphuraq, do we have any intel those little green assholes are changing strategy?”
Perkins also leaned forward while answering the question, using one hand to steady the desk. “There is no evidence of a strategy change, but a backwater world like Fresno falls under the category of tactics within their overall strategy. The Jeraptha told the Ruhar they suspect the Thuranin have been transporting warships from multiple clans in the general direction of Fresno.”
“Colonel,” Ross came close to rolling his eyes. “We heard the Jeraptha told the Ruhar? Isn’t that the intel equivalent of hearing that Becky passed Billy a note in math class?”
“It’s soft intel,” Perkins admitted, feeling her cheeks growing red. “By itself, I would consider it background only. I believe it. We know there are warriors from multiple clans here on Fresno, and that is very unusual, especially with the Kristang at each other’s throats. Commodore Sequent has solid sensor data of ships from multiple clans operating in this system, and those ships are not from Swift Arrow subclans, or major clans known to be allied with the Swift Arrows. That is unprecedented,” she added, turning toward Zaring for support.
“To our knowledge, yes,” Zaring said quietly, not needing to add that human experience on the subject of Kristang clan politics was not worth mentioning. “It is unprecedented for rival clans to support a common goal.”
“You think, what?” Ross glanced between the two women. “These other clans are worried that if the Swift Arrows collapse, it would be bad for them?”
“This isn’t about clan politics,” Zaring explained. “The Kristang want to crush the concept of an Alien Legion before we can demonstrate our usefulness to the Ruhar.”
Seeing Ross sit back in his chair and the way he tilted his head, Perkins knew her boss was skeptical of the idea. “It’s not us, Sir. The Kristang don’t care about five thousand low-tech humans here, or a hundred thousand of us on Paradise. It’s the Verd-kris they fear. Billions of potential warriors available to the Ruhar. Warriors committed to the cause of restoring the original Kristang culture, to bringing a better life to people oppressed by the warrior caste. We know the Kristang general population is unhappy, and growing unhappier about their endless wars, internal and external.”
“That is true,” Zaring became animated, gesturing with her arms. “During the last civil war, three major clans were weakened to the point where their warrior caste leaders were forced to allow other castes to participate in their leadership ranks. Two of the clans crushed internal dissent after that civil war ended, but the Black Trees still have merchant caste and technical caste members on their leadership council. Other clans feared that ceding power to lower castes sets a bad precedent, and fifty years ago, a group of six major clans put pressure on the Black Trees. The Black Trees officially changed their rules so the merchant and technical castes only have ‘advisory votes’ in the leadership council. In reality, the warrior caste cannot operate without support from the lower castes.” She looked directly into Ross’s eyes. “We know from Kristang internal communications they are very concerned about my people. Before, we were an annoyance, a source of irritation, a wound to their pride and a political problem. Now, if the Ruhar allow us to participate in the fight, we are a direct threat to the Kristang warrior caste, and to the Thuranin. Chatter we have picked up indicates Fresno has become an obsession to the major clans. This little planet could become a major battleground. If the Kristang are going to crush the idea of my people fighting alongside the Ruhar, this world is their best opportunity.”
“I’ll need to see your raw intel on that,” Ross said cautiously. He did not know Burtal Zaring and didn’t know whether her judgement could be trusted. He did know Emily Perkins was a solid intel officer. He also knew the Alien Legion was Perkins’ baby and her thinking about the subject might not be entirely clear. “Ok, Fresno is a big test for the Legion concept, we knew that. The question is, will our hamster overlords pull their support if the fighting here gets hot?”
“That isn’t the question,” Perkins shook her head, and shared a look with Zaring. The Verd woman nodded for Perkins to explain. “Our support by the hamsters is thin. Again this intel came from the Verds, they have sources inside the Ruhar federal government. Their Federal Army hates the Alien Legion concept, because they fear the government will cut back funding to the Army. Why pay for an expensive Army, when the Legion can do the job cheaper?”
“Also, the Ruhar population won’t see body bags coming home if the Legion does the fighting,” Zaring added with a sour expression. “That is worth a lot of votes, and their Army knows it.”
“The hamster Navy also hates the idea of the Legion,” Perkins added. “They argued against taking Fresno, their fear is the Legion makes it easy for the Federal government to take territory they don’t need. Their Navy is stretched thin already, the last thing they want is the civilian government getting adventurous because the Legion makes it easy for them to take risks. Whatever territory the Legion takes, the Navy has to defend and hold.”
Ross felt his headache was going to last all day, at least. “Ok, this is wonderful news. The hamster military is against us. They take orders from the civilian government, so as long as-”
“That’s the other bad news,” Perkins interjected. “The Peace faction in their federal parliament has growing support within the government, and now controls thirty eight percent of votes in their congress of parliament or whatever they call it. The Peace faction gained seven percent of that support after their disastrous expedition to Earth. We know the resou
rces they expended attempting to stop the Kristang from colonizing Earth, nearly caused a No Confidence vote against the Ruhar ruling party. The Ruhar government will not be taking a risk like that again.”
“The Ruhar expedition to your home world was a terrible idea, both politically and as a military strategy,” Zaring stated, then paused when she saw the human general’s reaction to her callous disregard of the effect the Ruhar raid had on Earth’s native inhabitants. “I am sorry for your people. We do not know what is happening on Earth-”
“I think we do know,” Ross bit off a harsher reply. “Let’s not indulge in fairy tales.”
Perkins opened her mouth to say she was hoping, somehow, to bargain for the Jeraptha to send a ship to Earth, then looked away without speaking her thoughts. There was no point to getting Ross’s hopes up. She also very much did not want to get into a discussion of what she might have that would be valuable enough to charter a long-range expedition to Earth. “Let’s, get back to the subject,” she looked between Ross and Zaring to judge their reactions, and continued. “The Peace faction is concerned that the existence of the Alien Legion makes it easier for the government to engage in military adventures. If we lose a fight and get trapped behind enemy lines, the Ruhar can shrug and move on. We’re not Ruhar, we’re aliens. To their public, humans and Verds are enemies, or former enemies. No one is going to be lobbying their government to rescue us. The Legion allows the government to take risks they otherwise would not dare to consider.”
“Like Fresno,” Ross said, his jaw working side to side like he was trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth.
“Like Fresno,” Perkins agreed.
“The Ruhar intelligence directorate also is against the Legion,” Zaring added. “They do not trust my people. They fear what will happen if we Verd-kris gain the power to live independently of their support.”
Deathtrap Page 14