by Dean Sault
“We’re going to have a serious problem with that flagship before this thing is over,” the general observed. “It’s got the firepower of four Rahls. Good thing they depend on central command structure. Even though Rotaga’s ship destroyed our heavies, they pulled back their fleet to protect the flagship. For now, Heps want to keep that big ship out of the battle.”
“Byn, that’s eight. How did the 11th lose the other two?”
“They broke shield overlap protocol during an attack run. Without the extra shield strength, they were easy targets for lizard gunners.”
The general knew his space fleet could not sustain such losses. There were no more reserves coming.
“I called our ships back under the planetary shields,” he said. “Rotaga will take a while to regroup. Our retrofit teams can use this time to upgrade shields on the surviving heavies from the 10th and 11th. How long until you’re under my shields?”
“Fifteen minutes, if we don’t run into trouble. Thanks, General. Those shield mods were critical. How are we doing with atmospheric defense? You guys okay down there?”
“By the grace of Vaal-al, our pilots got one hundred percent kills. All our shields are at full strength. Fleet defense fighters took out most of the first wave. They did a great job, but we lost a lot of your fighters in the effort. Without those fleet fighters, our atmospheric pilots are going to get a lot more business in the next attack.”
General Tragge sat back in his command chair. For a moment, the war was at a standoff. War Room monitors showed widespread rubble of destroyed spacecraft, slowly rotating in space, and the enemy fleet holding far out by the asteroid belt. He finally had a moment to think, and reality set in like an icy dagger.
“Outgunned. Outnumbered,” he muttered to himself. “And, no more reserves.”
From this moment forward, the general knew his decisions in the next few hours could determine the fate of his entire race.
#
“Prime Skah, Rotaga. Why did you recall us from battle? We destroyed fifteen Tanarac ships at a cost of only eight.”
Rotaga snapped at the question from one of his ship commanders.
“You imbecile! YOU, did not destroy fifteen! YOU, only destroyed seven! My command ship destroyed the other eight. And, you lost eight of my heavy ships in destroying only seven Tanarac warships. That rate of loss is too high. As long as their starships can hide under planetary shields, we will be denied victory. Await my orders.”
Rotaga turned his command chair to look out his personal view-port.
“I have superior forces. He has a superior defensive position. He knows it. He is patient and determined. We have a standoff.”
Rotaga slammed his fist on the arm of his command seat and shouted, “I will NOT be denied my destiny!”
Chapter 44
Adam was surprised how fast Benjamin mastered the controls of the field transporter. As they approached the jungle on the far side of the quarry, the young Loadmaster sought a little reassurance.
“We’re just picking up humans, right? You’re not gonna spring any more of them hicays on me, are ya?”
“I don’t know. Many scouts volunteered to help the Taskers defend this quarry. They may bring their hicay companions. I have no control over that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not getting in this cab with any of those monsters!”
“Fine, you can walk back,” Benjamin mirrored the young man’s sarcasm, although he followed it up with an understanding smile.
The quarry vehicle lurched to a stop in some loose ferns at the edge of the jungle. The senior scout wasted no time stepping into the nearby scrub brush. He surveyed the shadows, cupped his hands at this mouth, and made a short series of lifelike jungle sounds. There was no response.
“We’re going back now, right?” Adam was disturbed by the possibility of being in close proximity to another hicay.
“No. I’m not sure where my scouts will exit the jungle, so we have to patrol this entire side of the quarry.”
Benjamin drove from place to place, repeating his calls each time. This pattern continued for nearly an hour.
“Nobody’s coming. Can we go back now?” Adam grew impatient.
“Young man, my people always keep their promises. You have much to learn about the responsibilities that come with freedom.”
“I keep my promises,” Adam bristled.
“You may keep promises that are easy to keep, but will you keep your promises when they become difficult? Would you face a wild hicay because you promised to protect someone else?” Benjamin stopped the vehicle and looked directly at Adam. “I have.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know anyone who survived a wild hicay attack.” The young man jumped at the chance of catching his leader in a fib.
“She didn’t attack. If she did, I would have been killed. I stood my ground between the hicay and my injured friend. I maintained eye contact with her and showed no fear. When she hissed at me, I hissed back . . . louder. My actions confused her. Hicays expect prey to flee, and they run it down. She didn’t know how to deal with me and just slipped back into the jungle.” Benjamin chuckled. “I don’t recommend staring down wild hicays for recreation.”
Adam looked at him with newfound respect. This man actually stared down a wild hicay.
Before the young man could ask another question, Benjamin jumped out of the vehicle and began his familiar calls into the jungle. This time was different. Immediate responses echoed back, and several men emerged from the jungle. Two hicays strolled out with them.
Adam’s heart pounded as the beasts walked right into the middle of the group of humans and received the same warm greeting from Benjamin as had been shown to his scouts.
Soon, a dozen men and three golden animals stood next to the field transport, catching up on the current events. Adam declined an invitation to join the group, opting instead to listen from the safety of his seat inside the transport.
One by one, scouts reported that free humans got his message and returned to deep hides. The Elder leader nodded in satisfaction as the last scout completed his summary.
“Thank you. That’s a relief.” Benjamin addressed the task at hand. “My friends, you have a chance to mold the future. People in this quarry are new members of our community. They have been told of our existence, but neither our captive humans nor Taskers have ever seen a friendly hicay. It might be best if our companions wait in the safety of the jungle. Please explain this to them and ask for their cooperation.”
Adam watched through a closed window, intrigued by two scouts gesturing to their companion hicays. The beasts nuzzled their human partners before strolling, almost casually, back into the nearby undergrowth.
The third hicay did not seem paired with any scout. Benjamin stepped in front of him and scratched softly behind his ears, before kneeling and making hand gestures. This last hicay soon joined the others in the jungle, pausing for a moment, at the edge of the ferns to look back.
Adam exhaled in relief.
The quarry transport parked outside the human quarters and the human jungle men followed their leader into the cafeteria. Awkward silence filled the room.
Human scouts had never been inside a real building. Most had never even seen a building, other than those in their caves. They were as mesmerized by their new surroundings, as the quarry residents were with the odd look of these people.
One person took initiative to break the silence.
“Hi, my name’s Kate. What’s yours?”
The old woman extended her hand to the nearest scout and began introducing her fellow human leaders to the jungle guests. Newly freed humans were uncertain about major changes coming to their lives and began asking questions of their free-living counterparts. Benjamin allowed the questions to flow for a short while before taking control of the meeting.
“My friends, there will be plenty of time,” he spoke as he crossed over to stand beside Kate, lending her his authority, “to answer all you
r questions. Right now, my scouts must work out security matters with the Taskers. Kate and your senior council members will help you organize an interim quarry committee to represent you in future negotiations. There is still a problem with planetary shields, so please remain inside the building for the time being. We will let you know as soon as the risk passes.”
Benjamin and his scouts left to meet the Taskers while Kate took over control of her people.
Jungle humans had a sinister appearance to the Taskers. Many of these wild humans wore facial hair. Clothes came from animal skins or some kind of crude fabric. Scouts possessed enormous muscles compared to typical quarry humans and their skin was dark and leathery. Taskers found it particularly intimidating that jungle humans made eye contact which conveyed confidence and pride, threatening customary Tasker authority over humans. Tanarac guards had been taught strong eye contact by humans represented defiance. It was to be punished.
To the scouts, tall thin Taskers appeared weak, incapable of much threat. Free humans wondered why more captives had not escaped long ago. Distrust was mutual, as each group avoided contact with the other.
“May I have everyone’s attention, please?” Dr. Hadje spoke to his Taskers first, and the microphone translated his words into human dialect for the benefit of scouts. He explained the situation, ending with, “In summary, these human scouts are to be treated as your peers. Work closely with them. Learn from them, as they will from you. Share with them. They are comrades, fighting for a common cause. One more thing. Benjamin is to be treated as my peer in command. Any directions from him carry my full authority.”
The doctor handed the microphone to his human counterpart.
“Thank you, doctor.” He addressed his own people first. “Scouts, you have heard Dr. Hadje through a set of translating speakers. This method of communication will not work in the field. Each of you has been given a small bag. Please open it now.” He paused while his men pulled a small ear bud from the bag. “That is a universal translator. Taskers already have such devices. Place it in your left ear like so.”
He demonstrated the technique and scouts followed his instructions. Taskers and scouts remained in separate groups while they listened.
“Let’s see. How many Taskers are here?” Benjamin did a quick head count. “Okay, I’d say there are about sixty, and we have twenty human scouts. Please form groups of three Taskers to one scout.”
No one moved.
“It’s okay. Do it now. Please.”
The two groups looked at each other and awkwardly began assembling into mixed race teams. Benjamin waited patiently.
“Good. All of you have translator buds, so there should be no difficulty communicating. Let’s take a short break. Get to know each other within your group. Feel free to ask any questions you may have.”
Discussions started tentatively, but curiosity soon prevailed, and the two races began answering questions about each other. Benjamin and Dr. Hadje would have preferred this process take place over many months, but events beyond their control forced the issue. In the next few hours, these teams would be working together with their lives depending on mutual trust and familiarity.
The doctor returned to the microphone to begin a more detailed and honest briefing.
“We have a planetary shield generator close by. This quarry offers the only open space for landing a troop ship. There is a good chance any Heptaris that reach ground will land here. Shaz and Balo, please come forward.”
Two older Taskers stepped up. The human scouts noticed these Tanaracs were darker blue than the rest, and they were the only Taskers who appeared to carry decent muscle mass.
“These two Taskers are former military combatants,” the doctor said. “They fought in the Syntic Rebellion and will help you understand the challenges you might face in combat.”
He instructed the veterans to speak to the group about the difference between Tasker duties and combat. They both offered the same warning.
“As Taskers,” one said, “we have been trained to avoid harming anyone. Our stun cords have built-in safeties, so we don’t accidentally injure a human. Even when dealing with a hicay, it takes time to override the safety before our cords become lethal. That, my friends, is not war. If you hesitate to use lethal force against an enemy at your very first contact, he will kill you.”
The second veteran took over. “We are scheduling each of you for daily training on the pole range. You must re-train your telepathic overrides. Stun cord energy must be at maximum the instant it is released from your throwing hand. Any questions?”
The military combat veterans fielded a few questions from the Taskers. Then, one of the human scouts motioned to Benjamin.
“These Taskers have stun cords. What weapons are we going to use?”
The Elder man hesitated. It was difficult for him to taint the honorable nature of hunting tools, transforming them into weapons for killing sentient beings.
“In your early years, you learned to hunt. You learned to hunt with compassion and with respect for the game. Scouts provide food for our people, but none of us has ever harmed another person. Even the thought of such behavior is repugnant. I’m sad to say, you will be asked to use your hunting skills against Heptaris if they land here. Each of you has mastered the tools for hunting. Your equipment is hidden in the edge of the jungle. After this meeting, I will take you back, so you can retrieve your weapons. Demonstrate your proficiency with each hunting tool to Shaz and Balo. They will decide which of your tools will best serve to protect this compound. You will train in the pole range alongside our Tanarac brothers. Let’s all hope we are never forced to use these skills in combat.”
Benjamin then broadened his discourse to include the Tanaracs.
“Let us fight together as brothers. Freedom of both our peoples is at stake. Some of you will begin patrols immediately while others will rest before patrol later. Use this time to get to know each other. In the next few days, your lives and the lives of all our people may depend on your ability to work together. Thank you.”
The doctor took a few minutes to assign temporary quarters to each of the new four-member teams, but the Taskers seemed unhappy about something. Several of them were arguing amongst themselves at the back of the crowd when one of their human partners spoke up.
“Benjamin, our friends have a problem,” one of the scouts called out above the discussion. “They’ve been trained never to question authority, but they’re worried for their families in the Tasker compound over there. We sent our own people into safe holes. Is there something we can do for their families?”
Both leaders had overlooked the family compound. The doctor responded immediately.
“I’m very sorry. I did not consider this matter, and you are right to be concerned. Those of you with families may use transports in this facility to move your loved ones into homes of nearby friends and relatives. I will make housing arrangements at the local university for families who have nowhere else to go. I deeply apologize for the oversight. Please step forward if you have families.”
About a third of the Taskers hurried away to tend to the safety of their families. The Head Tasker reassigned the remaining Tanaracs and scouts into balanced patrol squads.
Dr. Hadje leaned over toward Benjamin and spoke in a hushed tone.
“What do you think? Your men have never harmed a person. Do you think they will be able to kill a Heptari soldier?”
“I don’t know, Rosh. I’ve never been in combat. What about your Taskers? Can they?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
Chapter 45
General Tragge looked at an old book, opened on his desk. The pages were yellow and brittle with age. Cloth of the binding had long ago worn through, revealing original cardboard and glue beneath. It was titled, “Military Battles of the Human War”.
“Sir! They’re coming again.”
The intercom startled him, but he did not close the book. He carefully slid the f
ragile book to the corner of his desk before returning to the War Room.
“Status.”
“No contact, sir. They came in hot, and then went right back into orbit out of gunnery range. Must be testing our response plan.”
The general studied his opponent’s tactical alignment on several displays. The big command ship had closed to half its prior distance. He wondered if it might be possible to mount a strike against her. In that moment, he realized he and Rotaga had reached the same conclusion. Tanarac vessels could hold their own against the Cosh and Rahl heavies, thanks to the improved shields, but not against his command ship. They both knew the Tanarac fleet was safe below planetary force fields. It was an indefinite standoff, unless the enemy could lure Tanarac forces into open-space combat where the big command ship could swing the balance of power.
“So, that’s it Rotaga,” the general spoke under his breath. “You’re offering bait. I grant you, your command ship makes an attractive target, but what will you do if I ignore temptation?”
One of the War Room technicians asked, “Sir, what are they doing?”
“They’re trying to draw us into open space, but we’re not going to fight on their terms.”
The fleet intercom activated.
“General.” Admiral Paad was spoiling for a fight. “Can we bounce up through our shields long enough to take a few shots at that command ship and drop back down before they engage?”
Nothing is more uncomfortable for a fighter than a standoff.
“Negative. Patience is our ally. Position your best ships near our shield generators. If any of their heavies approach, fire at will, but stay below the upper shield.”
“Sir, I’d like to speak with you privately.”