by Chris Hechtl
For two weeks though, the platoon was almost completely ineffective. El Diablo, if he existed, was a ghost. So were any signs of enemy activity in the area.
Since they were looking at a long-term mission, a firebase was set up 120 kilometers north of the town along a logging road. The outer wall was formed from the local trees. It seemed a shame to cut down some of the titans of the forest, many measuring over a hundred meters tall and nearly five meters wide. But the job had to be done to extend their perimeter from the original campsite that had first occupied the flat stretch of ground.
Once the firebase was set up, the marines were sent out in squads to map the area. They had orders to meet and greet the natives and help them so as to win them over to their side. No easy task since they were caught between the marauding barbarians and the marines who may not be there a month or so later.
But there was another problem. The few settlements and hobby farms they did find in the area had been hit by the marauders. There were no signs of survivors. There was also no sign of El Diablo.
A week after the patrols started, Lieutenant Chiang's squad encountered a child in the trail. Aware it might be bait for a trap, they hesitated before the point man approached.
Private Mook wasn't much to look at, a Neomutt. He prided himself in being linked to the Devil Dogs of the First A.I. War fame. When he came over to the softly crying toddler, he cocked his head and wagged his tail a few times.
That got the attention of the toddler who looked up to him in surprise and wonder. “You lost kid?” Mook asked, kneeling next to the kid. He looked around to make sure the coast was clear. What he saw was a group of other small heat signatures. He raised his nose and sniffed the wet cold air. “You can come out. We're not going to hurt you,” he said.
When no one came out, he sat down on his haunches and then pulled an energy bar out of his breast pocket. He didn't like the lack of sound in the forest; it was eerily silent. His eyes kept roving the area as he mechanically opened the energy bar with his hand paws, then snapped a piece off. He held it out to the toddler.
The little gaunt boy took it instantly and started to nibble on it. Once he was past the first bite, he began to chew and then devour it. The dog looked down at him and snorted. “Easy there, kid, don't eat so fast; you're liable to get sick,” he said as he held out another piece with two fingers. The boy took the piece and then seemed to move as if something relaxed in him. In a moment he was curled against the dog's side, looking up at him with blue eyes as he chewed on the energy bar.
“I've got some jerky too,” the dog said, “in my bag. But it's rough, like shoe leather,” he said. “You gotta wash it down, but I'm nearly out of water,” he admitted.
He saw the toddler had a small knife, but the kid put it away. He looked back to the rest of his squad, unsure what to do just as a rustle of ferns made him freeze. Slowly he turned back to see a group of orphans come out of the bush.
“Damn,” he said blinking as he held out another piece of energy bar to the first waif. “Looks like you brought friends, kid,” he said.
The kids looked sullenly at him. They were a mix of species—some looked Terran but of mixed race, some were girls, some were boys. They tended to range in age between three and fifteen or so he estimated. There were no adults.
There were a small handful of non-humanoid children as well, including two tiny elves sitting on the shoulder of a girl, a naga child half hidden and hissing at them, and three Veraxin children near their second molt. They clicked their mandibles, eye stalks locked on his wrapper. “Uh, a little help here?” the brown Neomutt said suggestively over his shoulder, broadcasting the request as well.
“I'm Lieutenant Chaing, Federation Marines,” the lieutenant said, stepping up. The group seemed to frown collectively, tension mounting. “We're here to help. We're here to find the pirates and bring them to justice,” he explained. “You kids look like you've been through a lot.”
“Tell me about it,” Mook muttered as a kid came over expectantly to him. A small hand touched his head. He felt the hand stroke his furry cheek. He took off his helmet and showed it to the kid. “Not your size I'm afraid,” he teased gently. “C'kk?” he asked, looking back.
“Got it,” the Veraxin said, coming up with his larger bag. He was already opening it to hand out some of his extra rations to the kids. The sight of a Veraxin with them, one who was armed and obviously generous, seemed to relax the kids once more.
“You aren't like the others,” a voice drifted in the wind.
“No. No, we're marines. We're from the Federation. We've retaken this solar system, and we're working to clean up the pirates,” the lieutenant said, pulling his own MRE stash out to break it up. He looked around and then heaved a sigh. “We make camp here,” he said. “I guess.”
“Is that wise, sir? This could be a trap,” C'kk asked over their implant channel.
“No choice. Tell the rest of the squad to hand over their rations and then spread out in perimeter. We'll see if there is a reasonably flat area nearby off the trail. If not, this will have to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many are there?” the lieutenant asked.
“Twenty,” a voice said, coming up behind him. He turned to see an apparition behind him. He didn't know how the hell the kid had appeared in the center of his squad. It spooked him a little but he held off pointing his weapon at him. The boy seemed to straighten under what was apparently some sort of cloak or trench coat.
He had long shaggy hair and a floppy hat. He also wore wraparound sunglasses. As he stood the kids all seemed to come to attention. “Twenty here, plus our four-legged friends,” the male said. It had to be a male from the timber of his voice the lieutenant concluded.
“And you are?”
“Call me … Red,” the young man said, seemingly amused by that. He kept his head down so his hat hid his features. From what little the lieutenant had seen of him, he had milk white skin and gaunt features.
“Well, Red, we can help. Are there any adults or ...?”
“We're it,” the young man said as a group of canines came out of the bush behind the kids. They had packs strapped to their backs. Sled dogs, the lieutenant noted, looking them over—six of them, all well trained. Four were husky wolves of some sort, another was some sort of border collie mix, and the pit bull with the torn ears was obviously the omega of the group.
He heard a soft yowl and turned to see a boy holding a pair of cougar cubs also with torn ears and another boy holding a lynx cub. His eyes roved to a little girl holding a blond teddy bear with a matted red bow around its neck. From the look it was actually a stuffed toy.
“Well then,” he said straightening his shoulders. “You've survived for how long on your own?”
“We are resourceful. We hunt; we know where the food is,” Red said. Immediately the lieutenant tagged his proffered name as a false one. The kids were cautious.
They had every right to be, he reminded himself. They stank. They had obviously been through hell based on their gaunt looks and ragged clothes.
“Okay, here's the deal. We can't stay here forever obviously. I'm guessing your parents aren't around?”
“Around? No. Not anymore,” Red snorted.
“Okay,” the lieutenant said, ignoring the sarcasm. “We have enough supplies for the night. We'll make camp here, if that is okay with you.” When the young man didn't say anything, he nodded. “Okay, then glad that part's settled. Once dawn breaks, we'll escort you to our base camp. From there …”
“We will only go if we are together. We are a family,” Red growled. There were a few answering growls from the pack of kids, all in support of his bald statement.
“Kid, I'll do what I can …”
“I want your word. Once we are out, we stay together—as a unit,” the boy said.
“I … fine,” the lieutenant said, throwing caution to the wind. “Okay. You have my word as a marine officer that we will not break you
up. Okay?”
“It's a start,” the boy said.
“Small things are where trust is built from,” the lieutenant murmured, reminding himself of one of the things Ensign Myers had said when briefing them about earning the local's trust. The boy looked at him and then away.
The lieutenant turned back to see his people as well as the kids making camp. He whistled softly in appreciation.
^<(>^<)>^
The wood was too wet to start a fire, but they had portable heaters. The kids huddled around them, obviously glad of the heat. Mylar blankets had been doled out. The kids didn't mind doubling or even tripling up under the improvised frond awnings they had woven to try to keep the rain at bay.
Once dinner was over, Private R'll gave them a once over. “Now see, I'm not a true medic. Medics are navy. But I've got the equivalent of an EMT license, which means I can patch someone up until we get them back to Alley the corpsman with the platoon. She can fix someone up at base until they can be evacuated to a proper hospital,” he explained, checking a child over. “Your lot seems like you've had a rough time of it.”
A blond boy with taped-up broken glasses and bad teeth snorted. He unwrapped a stethoscope from his neck and put it in his pocket. “You have no idea,” he said softly.
“I might if you tell me. I can guess but …,” the Veraxin medic signaled second-level discomfort.
The medic Alley did her best to check them out. She took her time to talk to each of them. The leader Red was apparently a boy in baggy clothes wearing a cap and wraparound sunglasses. The others all look to him. Since they knew the intel officer would be all over the kids for their life stories, they decided to build some relations early. The ensign could build off their small start once they got back to base the Veraxin thought.
“Can we start with a name?” the private asked. He looked to his boss for help. Apparently the kids seemed to react better to the nonhumans in the group. It was a pity there were so few in the squad.
“I'm Doc Boy. Call me that,” the kid said when the Veraxin signaled second-level name inquiry with his truehands. “Anyway, we've been through hell, yes. We've seen our parents and family raped, tortured, and killed over the past couple of months since the bastards came through here.” He looked over to Polly, one of the older girls. “A few of the girls here were also raped.”
“Oh. Damn,” a marine muttered, picking at his dinner tray. Kids were working with the marines to police the dinner cutlery and trays. Some of the kids used rain water and leaves to scrub the implements clean. It wasn't hygienic, but it wouldn't bother the marines with their implants.
The lieutenant listened to the story from where he sat on a rock. He was quiet, taking in the scene as he composed his report on his implants. He'd already sent off an initial contact report; he'd send a more detailed report in the morning.
He glanced over to Red, the leader. He had his arms under his armpits all the time. He looked and moved like a chicken. He at first seemed fat and squat, the way he was hunched over. He moved strangely, like … it took him a moment to realize what was getting to him. It was like a predator he thought, nodding. The kid also didn't take his glasses off and seemed to melt into the shadows when anyone looked at him for too long.
He had some social disorders, but for some reason he was the leader. Go figure. Also a chimera based on his thermal profile. There were some odd things about that … he shook his head.
Polly caught him looking and then the interest of the Veraxin. “What?”
“I am sorry. I do not mean to be rude, but I was scanning you. You will be pleased to know you aren't pregnant,” he said bluntly.
A few of the girls looked up and then over to them, their faces set.
“I already knew that,” Polly said, wrapping her arms around herself. Doc Boy reached for her, but she brushed his hands away in annoyance. He took a step back, hands up. She signaled something, what looked like … never mind but the lieutenant wasn't sure. The kids had evolved some hand signs he didn't recognize.
Left to their own devices for so long, it wasn't a surprise he thought absently.
“I took care of it,” Doc Boy said, looking at the Veraxin.
“Um …”
“What, you want me to spell it out? We handled it. Tansy will abort a fetus and so will a coat hanger. Let's say I got good at it,” the young man snarled, fists clenched.
“Okay, um, change of subject,” Lieutenant Chaing said as tension began to mount. “I'm originally from Agnosta. I grew up there on a farm with my two brothers and sisters before the Federation came and I became a marine. I guess some of you grew up on a farm too? At least for a while?” he asked, surveying the group. There were a few nods.
“Okay, so, I remember this one time …”
^<(>^<)>^
Lieutenant Chaing brought the half-wild kids in to the firebase a day later and assembled them in the quad. The fourteen Terran or chimera kids formed an outer perimeter with their nonhuman friends and their leader at their core. The dogs stuck to the outer perimeter as well.
The lieutenant was used to it. All through the day, he'd seen how the kids moved. They were good, moving in a column with their own point. They seemed to disdain the slow progress of the marines though.
MPs were already on duty; their leader Corporal Liota Naysmith came over to see what the hubbub was. She could tell there was going to be some trouble with the kids. Just wrangling them was going to be a pain in the ass.
“They smell bad,” Blake, a Neomutt MP said, waving a hand in front of his nose.
The group of kids kept looking at him and some of the other nonhumans in the group. “They smell like … well, you don't want to know. Fear is up there with shit and stuff,” Blake said coughing.
“Thanks, Blake. I think my nose already told me that,” Naysmith said dryly.
“I think, um, I'll just, uh, stand upwind or something,” the dog said, moving in the direction of the wind.
“Yeah, you do that. Lucky you,” Naysmith said. She knew where things were headed. With a sinking heart, she saw the officers confer and then the captain pinged her implants. “Corporal, the kids are in your care.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me. You are female; they will respond better to a woman. You've got authority. Use it if you need it.”
“I came from a big family, but this is a bit much, sir,” she said.
“Draw on who you need,” the captain said over the channel. “Get them in the barracks.”
“Cleaned up and fed first,” the corporal amended first.
“Definitely,” the captain said with a bit of feeling in his voice.
“They've had lunch a couple hours ago. They might be peckish though,” the lieutenant said, shaking his head.
“The animals?” the corporal asked.
“The kids insist on taking care of them. I made it clear it is up to them.”
“The wild …,” she frowned.
“They've been trained. The kids know how to handle them. Apparently a couple of them had forest rangers or farmers as parents,” Lieutenant Chaing replied with a diffident shrug. “They are very knowledgeable and fiercely independent, sir. I didn't want to push things given their situation and well, traumatic past.”
The captain nodded. “Good enough I suppose.” He wanted to have a sit down with the leader, but he wasn't sure if he could spare the time or not. He was rather busy juggling various jobs while also monitoring the status of the squads out in the field.
That and the paperwork—he seemed to be drowning in it. The red tape brigade seemed to take sadistic pleasure in heaping more on him every time he got within a couple centimeters of their meter stick for being caught up and on time. It was maddening.
“Okay,” the corporal drawled, turning on the lot. “Okay, you mangy lot, you are all destined for a shower—hot shower,” she said, voice pitched to draw their attention. No one responded, which was unexpected. She'd been sure a hot shower would be a sure tic
ket for the kids to end up in a stampede. “We'll get you some clean clothes, if we have any.” She glanced at the captain.
“I'll let supply know to help you get them sorted out. Use tent three. They insist on bedding down together, coed.”
“Great. We'll have to fumigate it for fleas and crap,” the corporal muttered. The officers winced. “Once you've been cleaned up, we'll work on feeding you and then you can settle in. Doc will want to check you over of course,” she said, addressing the group again.
A young man, at least she thought it was a young man, seemed to be at the center of the group. All of the kids’ eyes fell to him. He touched his hat with a bony hand and then nodded once. The eyes turned back to her. “Well! Since we've got that settled, this way,” she said, waving a hand to the head.
^<(>^<)>^
The two officers watched her lead the troop of pint-sized primitives off. The captain chuckled. “I guess I owe that young lady a three-day pass for dropping them on her like that cold.”
“Sir, they are organized. They have discipline,” the lieutenant emphasized. “I thought the, um, ensign might want to chat with them about local conditions,” he suggested. “Once they are settled in I mean.”
The captain turned back to him. “You don't have to sell me on it. I don't like the idea of having a pack of half-feral kids in my base, but we learn to put up with a lot. Besides, I couldn't see them out there, leaving them to the wild. It just doesn't sit well with me either. They deserve better,” he said with a tight nod.
The lieutenant's shoulders relaxed as tension seemed to ooze out of him. “Thank you, sir.”
The captain eyed him. “Thought I'd turn them out?”
“No but …,” the lieutenant cut himself off and then shrugged helplessly.
They watched the corporal trying to get the kids cleaned up and organized. Even with their supposed discipline, it was a hassle. Many of the kids had never taken a shower; some had to have it explained to them. They'd probably taken baths, Captain Lyon thought with a small nod. He made a mental note to look into a small wash tub or something if they were stuck with the kids for long. Hell, if he was stuck here for a month or more, he wouldn't mind a hot tub come to think of it.