Gray Panthers: Dixie

by David Guenther

  Earth space

  30 October 2128

  Dixie Commander Charles Butler was notified of the ships coming out of FTL space. The ships had dropped into normal space well out of weapons range. The ships began to send a hail.

  “Unidentified ships, this is Admiral Bad of the Gray Panthers fleet. Surrender and prepare to be boarded.” The three human ships took up a line abreast formation as thousands of shuttles departed from their hulls.

  “Admiral Bad, please do not attack our allies from Dixie. It really would be bad form after they rescued Earth,” Dan communicated to the fleet.

  “Fleet copies and is standing down. Our compliments to the Dixie fleet,” Admiral Bad replied, relieved that they had averted firing on friendlies.

  “Commander Butler, Gray Panther Command.”

  “Gray Panther Command, go ahead.”

  “Commander Butler, you and your squadron are hereby relieved. You may rejoin your main fleet at Dixie. Thank you again for your assistance, and here’s hoping we see you again under better conditions,” Dan relayed.

  “Thank you, Gray Panther Command. We will depart shortly. Thank you for the hospitality. Commander Butler out.”

  Outskirts of New Mississippi, planet Dixie

  31 October 2128

  The city was only a few miles distant. Scotty was lying on the ground next to a huge tree, along with Lieutenant Semmes. The town was dead. Smoke rose from numerous fires that were not being fought. The lieutenant handed Scotty his binoculars and Scotty swept the fields outside the town. Hundreds of black burnt spots filled the fields.

  “I think the city was lost. Those spots on the fields are where Libra shuttles landed. I don’t see any wrecked shuttles, so they must not have been opposed,” Scotty ventured as he handed back the binoculars.

  “No, that couldn’t have happened. There has to be an explanation.” Turning toward his scouts, Semmes said, “Sergeant Linden, we are breaking radio silence. Contact the command post to let them know we are heading back into town.” He ignored the response as he once again swept the binoculars over the town.

  “Lieutenant Semmes, we’re not getting through. All frequencies appear dead. Even the capital has stopped broadcasting.”

  “Dammit all to hell! Send out an open hail in the clear using burst transmission so we can’t be triangulated.”

  “Sir, I got a response. Our fleet is back in orbit. We are the first ones they have been able to contact. They are requesting a sitrep.”

  “Lieutenant Semmes, New Mississippi Scouts, to unidentified caller.”

  “This is Admiral Pierre Gustave Toutant-Beauregard. Please report status of planet. We have just arrived and destroyed enemy fleet but have not been able to contact anyone on the planet.”

  “Sir, when I left New Mississippi three days ago, we were holding our own. I am now preparing to enter the city, but it appears dead. Numerous scorch marks outside the city make it appear that enemy ships had landed unopposed,” Semmes reported.

  “Report back your findings as soon as you can,” Toutant-Beauregard ordered.

  Turning his attention back to the patrol, Semmes said, “Okay, we are going home while we still have sunlight. Standard formation driving in. We’ll park one hundred feet from the main entrance to the city. Drivers will come with me while gunners man their weapons to provide support. No shooting unless you have a clear target. Mr. Ambassador, I’m going to have to insist that you stay back here. I can’t risk your life on a reconnaissance.”

  “Bullshit, son. Now let’s get going. The longer you fight with me, the more daylight you lose,” Scotty said flatly.

  “Dammit! Okay, people, move out.” Semmes jumped in the vehicle as the rear wheels spun, throwing up gravel. The rest of the patrol quickly caught up and assumed their positions. As they drew nearer, the smell coming from the city caused them to tie bandanas over their faces. It seemed to be a mix of excrement and rotted meat. Everyone in the convoy fought the urge to puke.

  The vehicles assumed their position one hundred feet from the main entrance to the city. The field around them was littered with clothing and assorted flotsam. Scotty got out of his vehicle and walked over to where a doll sat waiting for its owner to come back for it. Next to it was a heavy metal stick with prongs on one end and a handle on the other.

  “Sam, you ever see one of these before?” he asked, holding up the stick for her to see.

  “That’s new to me. Lieutenant, do you know what that is?” she asked, pointing to Scotty and the stick.

  “Never seen one before. It resembles what our ranchers—oh, God, those bastards are going to pay for this!” Semmes walked over to Scotty and grabbed the stick. When he pressed the button on the handle, a bright spark of electricity buzzed between the prongs.

  “God damn them to hell! Those bastards are using cattle prods on our people! Gunners, man your guns. The rest of you, with me,” Semmes growled out as he gripped his carbine and headed for town. The scouts lined up abreast of him and proceeded to the town. The smell got worse the closer they came.

  Arizona Space Ship Beater, orbiting the Flem home world

  31 October 2128

  The mood on board the ship was dark as the realization of the unintentional genocide wore heavy on the crew. Captain Johnson had become distant from the crew, rarely leaving his cabin. Guns and Jimmy made it a point to defend the captain when they caught others whispering about his disengagement from the battle and somber quietness. They had been through their own hell before and wouldn’t let their commander be brought down.

  Johnson was enjoying the picnic with his children and grandchildren. The sky was blue and only a few white fluffy clouds were high in the sky. A nice breeze complemented the heat. The smell of blossoms was in the air. Everyone sat down at a picnic table, preparing to say grace before eating. As they all bowed their heads and clasped their hands, he stood at the end of the table leading the prayer. He alone saw the fireball that swept over the table, incinerating everyone. Their clothes were burned off and their blackened skin peeled and bled. The sweet, sickly acrid smell of the burnt flesh and hair filled his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. None of them had eyes. He looked into the burned-out, blackened sockets in their hairless skulls. They all reached out to him for help, wailing in such misery he couldn’t even recognize it as human. It sounded more like the mewing of sick kittens. Johnson woke screaming. The bed was soaked with sweat, and he had urinated in his sleep.

  He wrapped his arms around his legs and rocked back and forth on his soiled bunk. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the civilians being burned alive on the space dock.

  Short Blade was confused by those around him. They had completed their mission. The enemy had been destroyed, and they had suffered no casualties. He didn’t understand collateral damage.

  Commander Poland sat in the captain’s seat on the flight deck and one of the Dart pilots sat at the pilot’s position. The remoteness of the Flem home world meant no one bothered to come here anymore. The surface of the planet was widely known to be hostile to any plant introduced to it. Rumors had spread about the radioactive death that awaited those who tried to dig out the Flem cities that the Flem had poisoned when they fled their home world.

  Poland’s thoughts changed to his captain. For some time the captain had appeared to be losing it, and the gas giant massacre seemed to have been the last straw. Poland wondered whether the crew would follow him if he were to assume command. No matter how he played out the scenario in his mind, relieving the captain of his duty was mutiny.

  City of New Mississippi, planet Dixie

  31 October 2128

  In the center of the road going into the city, where the buildings were closest together, was a box. When the team finally got up close to it the box started making a humming sound that dropped everyone to the ground gasping in pain. Semmes couldn’t concentrate, the pain was so intense, but he eventually managed to point to the box. Back at the vehicles, the gunners saw the team go d
own and the lieutenant point toward a box. Davis looked over at Jefferson, who stood behind the other machine gun.

  “Let’s fire it up!” Davis let loose with a three-second burst, and Jefferson followed with one of his own. Down range they saw Semmes raise his arm and make a fist with his thumb sticking up.

  The noise from the box had been silenced, perforated with a hundred bullets. Semmes got to his feet and looked at his team.

  “Everyone look out for traps,” he cautioned. Why the hell did they leave a trap like that? What was the point? His questions were answered as the smell from the city began to slog toward them, stronger by the minute. A pair of little girls, filthy and bruised, walked toward the team. Neither said a word, seeming to wobble as they walked.

  One of the scouts ran over to them and dropped to her knee to give the little girls a hug. They both put their arms around her and began to chew her face and neck, the only parts of her that were exposed. The team stood in shock as the little girls got up and proceeded toward them and even more wobblers came around the corner. In no time at all, the entire road was filled from one side of the street to the other.

  “Lieutenant, what do we do?” the scout to Semmes’s left hollered out as the wobblers closed the distance. Semmes continued to stare at his dead scout, frozen with indecision. He had recognized one of the little girls from his daughter’s church kindergarten class. The other wobblers were slowly approaching him, though he seemed oblivious to them. They were almost touching the lieutenant when the scout to his left raised his carbine and fired on full automatic, knocking down three rows of wobblers and drawing them all to him. He quickly reloaded and prepared to fire into the mob again when the first wobbler, his young pregnant wife, reached him. “Nooo!” barely escaped from the scout’s lips as the mob fell upon him. His last sight was his wife’s face coming to his before tearing open his throat.

  “Fall back, goddamnsonofabitchmotherfucker, fall back!” Scotty yelled as he grabbed the lieutenant by the collar. “Run, you son of a bitch, or I’ll leave you here!” Scotty shouted into Semmes’s ear as the rest of the team withdrew, keeping their distance from the slow wobblers.

  Life came back into Semmes’s eyes as he reluctantly turned and retreated. His two scouts lay in the road, the wobblers stumbling over them. Tears began to stream down his face as he ran to join the others. The gunners now had a clear field of fire and opened up, the sound deafening as they blew holes in the crowd.

  Semmes raised his arms over his head and signaled to cease firing. He turned to see the carnage brought down on what had once been friends and family, then turned around again and ran toward his surviving scouts.

  “We’re outta here, now! Rally on the hill.” Everyone climbed into the vehicles and tires spun beneath them in their haste to leave the nightmare behind.

  Once back on the hill, Scotty could only stand in mute witness as the scouts came together in a group hug and began to sob softly among themselves. Sam hugged Scotty, burying her head into his chest as she too openly wept for the carnage she had just seen.

  “What the hell was that?” she cried into Scotty’s chest. “Is it the apocalypse?”

  “No, it’s the Libra. They are going to pay!” he said softly as he stroked her hair, holding her tightly to him, trying to make her feel safe. Looking up, he saw that the scouts were breaking up their group hug. He let Sam go and faced the scouts.

  “Revenge! Revenge for New Mississippi. Revenge! Revenge for Dixie!” Scotty shouted as loud as he could.

  “Revenge!” the scouts began to chant as they drew closer to him.

  “Those were your friends, your families, your neighbors, our comrades. In their deaths they cry out, ‘Revenge!’ The Libra are responsible, and we will have our revenge. Lieutenant Semmes, get on the radio and let fleet know what happened so they don’t come down into this mess,” Scotty ordered, deciding that he needed to take command until the lieutenant came to his senses and took it back. “Sergeant, set a perimeter watch. We don’t know if the Libra, the Red Coats, or our own people will attack us next.”

  Scotty sat down on the ground to rest his eyes for a moment. Glancing at his wrist computer, he couldn’t help but laugh as he saw what the date was back on Earth. He then shuddered at the thought that the Libra might be using the same weapon against Earth at that very moment.

  Peary Crater Lunar Base

  31 October 2128

  Dan Daniels looked across the table at the Jacka colonel. The colonel had been captured in the first wave when the ship he was on was disabled. The fact that the Gray Panthers had rescued him and his entire band of mercenaries had left him indebted. The colonel also had another connection with the Gray Panthers.

  Colonel Blade’s only son, who had been on another ship during the invasion, had been saved and later recruited by the Gray Panther fleet. His son, Short Blade, had been promoted to chief petty officer and had been decorated for bravery.

  “Colonel Blade, I don’t know how it is off-world, but I know in our world we look at mercenaries with contempt. They are looked upon as murderers for hire. I’ve come to know of you and your son and want to make you an offer. I think the League of Planets is an outstanding concept, but it failed because it’s filled with cowards unable or unwilling to help their neighbors. I imagine the League of Planets with its own army and fleet. Can you imagine that?” Dan asked.

  “It would never happen. Even if there were a fleet or an army, they would never go into harm’s way. The governments of the planets would never raise the money for such a thing. You are foolish to think such a thing possible.” Blade still bristled slightly from the earlier insult about mercenaries.

  “Colonel, if your people had a fleet of thirty or more warships, do you think they would consider becoming the entire military for the League? No longer fighting little battles for the top bidder or fighting for scraps. Your people would be the protectors for the League. All Jacka wearing one uniform, having one mission. The League and its people would have no option but to respect your people as the protector of the League. I’m willing to sell the ships to the League of Planets on the condition they give them all to your people. There could only be peace with such a force, for who would challenge an entire army of Jacka?”

  “You will have to sell your weapons somewhere else. They would not do such a thing. I appreciate the way you honor us with your words, Dan Daniels.”

  “If the League of Planets refuses my offer, I’m going to your home world and offering the ships to them as I hire your entire planet. First, I’ll train your people to use the ships. Then I’ll have your people destroy the Libra Alliance. Once that is done, I’ll send the Jacka to conquer the entire League of Planets. The Jacka will then administer the League of Planets by making each planet pay a tribute each year to the Jacka. How does that sound to you, Colonel?” Dan asked, staring the colonel in the eyes.

  “Others have been able to keep us down. Ensured that few of our people are knowledgeable in the use of advanced weapons or ships. You would do this for us?” Colonel Blade asked skeptically.

  “No, Colonel. As much as I respect you and your people, I would be doing it for my people. If your side of space is at peace, we don’t have anything to worry about here. I believe if we signed a non-aggression pact with the Jacka, they would honor it. Could I rely on your support if I went to your home world?”

  “Yes, Dan Daniels, you would have my support.” Blade’s voice softened slightly. “What can you tell me of my son? I have not heard from him.”

  “To my knowledge, he is fine. He’s away on a raid that will take a while before he returns. I wish we had more like him.” Dan smiled as he rose to signify their meeting was over.

  “If that is what you wish, you have me and all my people here at your disposal, Dan Daniels.”

  “Thank you again, Colonel. I will give that some thought.”

  Arizona Space Ship Beater, in the orbit of the Flem home world

  1 November 2128


  Captain Johnson entered the flight deck and Commander Poland rose to offer his seat to him. Johnson plopped heavily into the chair.

  “Ship’s status, Commander Poland?” Johnson asked, sounding like his old self.

  “All systems are once again online. No problems detected, sir.”

  “Good job, Commander. Set course back to Earth. I want to be underway in the next half hour. Once you have the course plotted, you may engage upon your discretion. I am going to perform a ‘no notice’ inspection of the different sections of the ship. Be sure to make a duty log for while we are under FTL so we have an officer every eight hours. Chief Short Blade will once again be twelve on, twelve off, since he’s not affected by the FTL drive.”

  Johnson departed the flight deck, leaving all in shock with the news. He was less than ten feet from the hatchway to the flight deck when Poland caught up with him.

  “Captain, why are we heading back to Earth?” Poland asked. “Our ship is fully serviceable. We have supplies to last easily another month. There is no real opposition looking for us yet.”

  “You’re a damn good ship driver, John. You did an outstanding job when your engineering team put the Beater back together, too. But the heart of the Beater is broken. The men need down time after the gas giant. They need to be in a place of safety to get their heads back on before we go back into battle. I can see it in their eyes. Your half hour is almost over, Commander Poland. Let’s get our crew home.”