by Chris Hechtl
“Yeah, I'd like to see him try to pull that run over with … crap, a stampede,” Major Zedeal said with a shake of his head. He sat heavily in his chair once more as all eyes fell on him. “Never mind what I said,” he said with a grimace.
Dana looked up when she had formed her idea. “See? We can prepare for a lot of things but …,” Dana shook her head. “Good point about the stampede. We'll have to look into that scenario. But you did bring up an interesting idea for me; we should get more crowd control, specifically nonlethals into our people's hands. And get them set up in such a way that they can be deployed remotely or automatically.”
“I like that idea,” Candice said, eyes bright. “He'd hate it if it came cold too! Stick something on a telescoping mast and set it off when the shooting starts. It'd KO everyone in the area and then our people could move in to mop up …”
“I think it's not perfect, but it is a good idea, ma'am,” Major R'nz said thoughtfully. “It would deter and defuse the organic shield problem and would impede or disable a stampede.”
“Good. We'll look into it too,” Dana said with a nod.
<)>^<)>/
“So, nonlethals?” General Forth asked, eying Dana. He'd heard from the umpires that Dana had asked for changes in the scenario. He'd reviewed them and authorized each of them, with a few caveats too. It had leveled the playing field a bit between the two forces. Dana's additional measures had tipped the field in her favor almost consistently.
Dana smiled. “It worked,” she said with a cat-eating canary smile. She turned the smile onto Valenko who flicked his ears at her.
“Yes, yes, it did. It's not the usual combat load of a division though,” the general said. She turned back to address him.
“No, but it should be in this or more advanced scenarios. The civilian population can be used as fodder or shields as Major Valenko has repeatedly demonstrated. This is a good counter. One we can deploy in many different ways.”
She fought not to smirk at the bear. His last four engagements hadn't gone as well as he'd probably had thought, though he had started to adapt to her use of nonlethals by pushing the engagement zone outward.
“I think the divisions should have them in their TOE to use or to hand over to the local LEOs if necessary,” Dana said.
“I see,” General Forth replied, knitting his fingers together.
“I think you need a larger MP force as well,” Valenko said, surprising her. She turned to him and raised an eyebrow in inquiry. He snorted softly then shrugged. “A part of the problem is we're using conventional military forces against unconventional attacks once the initial landing has been completed and control more or less turned over into our hands,” he said.
She slowly nodded.
“MPs are trained to handle that situation more readily than standard Marines. Standard Marines are soldiers, not trained to deal with this. They are heavy reaction forces. Out in the open they expose themselves.”
“They are bait,” General Forth said with a nod. “Yes, I know the argument.”
“Yes, sir. This sort of action requires more finesse; conventional soldiers use a sledgehammer. That's what they are trained to do. This is … trickier.”
“Public opinion can be swayed if we overdo it,” Dana said with a nod. “Major Zedeal warned me about that.”
“Yes. Too heavy a hand and we become worse than the people we're trying to remove. Too light and we are ineffective. Your usage of nonlethals was smart. In this scenario, you need to get in with the locals to feed you intelligence and to help prevent attacks. Your usage of drones is good but suboptimal in the urban environment,” the bear said.
Dana nodded. The bear wasn't above pointing out errors … but he rarely gave solutions. He believed in people learning from their mistakes and muddling through sometimes until they figured it out for themselves. This was a distinct change. She appreciated it.
“The heat signatures are always a problem in urban environments,” General Forth said.
“And the enemy knows this. The enemy will also know countermeasures for them. Thermal blankets, industrial equipment, animals …,” Valenko waved a hand to indicate he could go on and on.
“So, we need to get a local contact going. Get in with the natives,” Dana said.
“More than that,” Valenko said as the general turned in surprise to him. “I did my research on Protodon after talking with Jethro, Master Sergeant McClintock,” the bear said. The general indicated he should continue. He nodded once. “The cat pointed out that it was tough fighting in the urban environment, and his experiences gave me ideas on how to handle the op force perspective. I also researched it,” the bear said with a small smile to Dana. “And the counters and the counters to the counters,” he said.
She grimaced but then nodded.
“One of the things I did note was that there was an ONI presence on Protodon … and still is I believe. When I noted it, I talked to Lieutenant Rivers who was on the planet. He admitted there is an ONI presence but clammed up on me.”
“As he should. He shouldn't have admitted what he had,” the general said dryly.
“Be that as it may, I would believe an ONI group sent in to provide intelligence ahead of time would be ideal. Barring that, an ONI team coming in to help find the enemy and dig them out is important. So is their ability to blend in with the natives, build contacts and networks, and find the enemy that way, or at least pass on warnings.”
“I'll pass that on,” the general replied with a nod.
“Thank you, sir. I'm hoping to tap into that network when we go to Protodon … if we are still on track to go?” the bear asked. The general nodded. “Very well, sir.”
“Perhaps we should switch roles?” Dana asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. The bear shrugged.
“I think not,” the general said. They turned to him. “I think you two need a break, so we'll run both scenarios. Protodon is distinctly different than Destria. So, I'll have my First Brigade run the op force for Protodon ….” He turned a smile to Valenko. “And Second Brigade will run the op force for Destria. That should keep everyone busy until it is time to ship out.”
“Yes, sir,” both officers replied with a nod.
“And you can run all your ideas at them. I'll have to look into them myself,” the general said with a brief smile. “After all, Mister Br'er Bear here just mentioned there are counters to the counters,” he said, pulling out his tablet and setting it on his blotter.
Dana groaned softly. The bear chuckled.
Chapter 13
Lil Red and Lil White checked in with their mom, Mamacita, from time to time despite living with the Neopug Zelma. That was how they had found out they had a sister, Ghost, and that Gran-Gran and their father, Mugsy, had passed away in their absence. Ghost was supposedly the last of their mother's many litters; a visiting medic had given their mother a shot to sterilize her. Mamacita had been grateful for it, even though she would miss bringing up babies. She had started talking to Zelma about getting into the crèche business once Ghost was weaned. Ghost wasn't of age yet, but she was cute and quiet enough to get away with a lot on the docks. She quickly became an expert pickpocket and message runner.
When they turned five, Zelma made pointed hints that the duo was of age to find another place to live. Lil White didn't seem to mind, but Lil Red had what Zelma called a “maturity problem” and had resented the demand for her to grow up.
On their fifth birthday, Zelma told the two girls that a Marine had come by with news that Sergeant McClintock had left them tickets to get off world. “If you want a fresh start,” she'd said when she passed the information over to each of them. Ghost had confirmed it for them the following day.
When their hormones kicked in and the duo started puberty, the boys started to come around. Zelma had shooed them off. Both girls didn't really see the harm at first. Lil Red liked to tease them. Lil White did too, but she hung out with them more and more instead of going to the school the refugees
had set up to educate the young and keep them out of trouble. Finally, a couple of the boys got her to go off with them when she was in heat.
Zelma had lectured them about the situation, warning them of trouble if they ever allowed the boys to get them alone. When Lil Red saw her sister wandering off with Midnight and the boys, she had followed. They had led her sister to a back alley and then pounced on her, a rarity in their species since usually the males yowled and fought each other for the privilege of having sex with a female in heat.
Lil Red had been too distant to get there in time, not that her small frame would have made much of a difference. She heard her sister's yowls and forced herself to watch her get gang-raped from the top of the building. Hot angry impotent tears occasionally fell with the rain down onto the group below. She did everything in her power to ignore the desires running through her. From her sister's yowls, some of it really hurt.
She forced herself to watch, memorizing every feature of the males. She plotted her revenge, but something else tore at her, exciting her. She became disgusted when near the end her sister's yowls had changed in pitch and timber as if she'd been enjoying the experience instead of being traumatized by it.
A few weeks later their mother had checked on Lil White and had pronounced in disgust that she was pregnant. She no longer wanted to have anything to do with them. Zelma had checked and sadly confirmed that Lil White had indeed been knocked up.
“It's not that I don't love little ones, but I warned you. I told you and told you,” the pug said with a mournful shake of her head. “Now, you have to find a way to feed yourself and them. It is tough,” she said.
“But you manage it,” Lil White insisted.
“I babysit others, and it keeps food on the table. The roof …,” Zelma indicated the hovel she was in. It was better than it had been but not much. The good places were going to those who could afford it.
“I'll … figure it out. Spot you watching the young or something. The same as mom,” Lil White insisted.
Lil Red had turned away. The following morning she'd hunted down that medic who had given her mother her shot and asked for her own. She'd left with the shot and the knowledge that she had her own future to consider first and foremost. As much as she loved her family, she wasn't going to be a baby factory.
But when her sister gave birth to two kittens, she had to help her with everything. And her sister had trouble feeding the kittens so Lil Red had to share her own food while their mom stepped in to wet nurse. When Zelma and her mother got a cold, she was dragged in to help run the crèche's daycare.
Her sister's drying up had been a problem too. The boys had started coming around to sniff and hang out. Zelma had chased them off, but they always came back. And even though Red didn't want anything to do with them, she knew if she went into heat when they were around she'd be in trouble.
Minding babies wasn't what she wanted to do with her life. She wanted more. She wanted excitement—she'd been tempted to follow Ghost into the docks—but she wanted more. She realized as long as she was on Protodon she'd have the safety net of her family but they would use her too.
One long night she decided she couldn't handle it anymore. So the following morning she went to the spaceport and took the ticket. She had only a small bag to bring her clothes and meager valuables with.
“I'll miss you,” Lil Red said when she announced she was leaving.
Zelma had nodded. “When?”
“In an hour. I need to get back to the shuttle,” Red said.
“It figures. Your mother is on a food run and your sister is dropping off a group of … never mind.” Zelma gave her another hug and then shooed her to the door. “Go, before you miss your chance,” she said gruffly.
“But …”
“I'll tell them it was sooner than expected. They'll be hurt, so will Ghost, but you have you to think about. Go, girl, and don't look back,” Zelma urged. Red nodded.
She'd gotten through security by showing her lanyard with the chip in it. She'd been nervous, but she'd taken the seat in the shuttle. It had been enormous for her small frame, so she'd taken a bath in it and then curled up into it for a nap until a lady had told her she had to put her seatbelt on.
The thrust of liftoff had startled and frightened her. The brief sight of her homeworld drifting below had been beautiful to see. The ship … she hadn't been all that impressed with it. The thing smelled of industrial cleaner.
She'd been directed to a tiny cabin in coach. She hadn't been amused to share it with other people, but her excitement at taking an adventure was still upon her. She liked the human marine she had met. He had a cabin nearby. He said his name was Captain Lyon. He had a few other marines with him. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him about Sergeant McClintock though; he'd been distracted.
She didn't know that the ship would be a part of a convoy to Antigua.
<)>^<)>/
Lil White had come home to Zelma telling her that her sister had gone. She returned to the crèche and talked with Zelma for hours. When her mother came, she told her. Mamacita had shrugged the news away. She gathered the kittens up and nursed them for White who had dried up early.
“I don't understand it!” White said over and over, baffled by her sister's defection.
“Go,” Zelma said. Mamacita looked up in surprise.
“But … the ticket is for one …” she turned to her two kittens.
“We've got them. They will be fine,” Zelma said.
“But …”
“You don't want to be a mother here forever, do you?” Zelma asked.
White turned to her mother and bit her lip, staring at her two kittens. Ever since she had dried up, her mother had been steadily pushing her away, eroding her position. She'd resented some of it but was grateful in other ways. “But …,” she said weakly.
“Go,” Mamacita said gruffly as she turned to stroke her granddaughter. “I'll take care of these. You go on and find a new home. Write,” she said.
“But …,” White said, clearly hurt. Her ears went out flat. She went over to her mother and stroked the kitten's heads gently. The male yawned and then went back to suckling.
“You'll do fine,” her mother said, patting her arm. “Don't fall into the trap I and Zelma did. You two are destined for better things. The same for Ghost.”
“I … Mamma …,” White said weakly, stroking the kittens as she teared up.
“I know it is hard. I'll take care of them, I promise,” Mamacita said, voice rough with emotion. You know, I've had eight litters, and of those eight, four of you kittens have survived, I have no idea where your elder brother went. I don't even know if he's alive!” she shook her head.
“But mama …”
“Go. These two are going to be just fine. We'll find a way to raise them and write once you settle down. If you can find a nice place, let me know and we'll try to save up so we can visit or move to where you are,” she said. She looked around. “No one wants to be here; it's too dangerous these days,” she said.
Zelma nodded in mute agreement. Her fingers continued to flick as she knitted a small sock.
White looked over to the Neopug and then back. “Are you sure?”
“It's not up to me, honey. You need to make up your own mind,” Mamacita said.
“She can't get on the ship her sister is on. It just left in the convoy to Antigua,” Zelma said. “A new ship just arrived in orbit. It will leave in a few days for Kathy's World, or so I heard.”
“But that … I mean, I won't go to where Red is going?” White protested.
“No, but Kathy's World is the planet with all the Neos on it, honey,” Zelma said soothingly. “Trust me; I heard it is cold but worth going to. And with so many Neos, you'll fit right in.”
“I … OK,” White said suddenly.
“Good,” Zelma said with a nod. Mamacita took her hand, kissed it gently, and then went back to stroking the babies.
<)>^<)>/
Two da
ys after the freighter bound for Kathy's World left with Lil White and other passengers on it, Protodon experienced an unwanted visit from the Horathians. News of their arrival hit the star system and ansible network like a firestorm.
The enemy ships fired on the planet with disastrous implications for those who were on it.
<)>^<)>/
“We've got incoming!” Colonel Pendeckle snarled, as his command center became chaos central. He stared balefully at the plot that showed multiple asteroids coming in to the planet. The Navy had done what it could, but they didn't have enough in the inner perimeter to deflect all of the rocks headed their way.
In some ways, he hoped and prayed they'd hit land. Land he could deal with. Water though … he swore as the initial projections came in. “Find out the exact impact points. Alert the Emergency Broadcast system. Keep them in the loop and up-to-date every ten minutes or less. Make sure you warn the coastal cities to evacuate to high ground ASAP.” He stared at the incoming fire. “They'll need all the time they can get,” he said grimly.
“Sir, they are asking if this is another drill,” Sergei said as he looked up from his seat. “I've told them but …”
The colonel stomped over to the white liger's seat and stabbed the microphone button with his finger. “This is not a drill, damn it! Move your ass or drown!” he snarled at full roar.
<)>^<)>/
Ghost witnessed the mad scramble on the air ship docks to get people out. The din of the klaxons overrode the screams of terror and fear from the people trying frantically to get out. If she wasn't so terrified, her sensitive ears would have given her a migraine from the din. Or driven her deaf she thought as she danced on all fours through the crowds. Her small feline size allowed her to duck between people with ease. Occasionally, she'd walk on her hind legs to slip between someone or to make someone realize she wasn't a pet. Once she was past, she dropped to all fours again to allow herself to move faster. She weaved herself in and out and managed to jump the gap to board the last airship just as the crew cast off their moorings and got underway.