by Chris Hechtl
“Yes, sir, Governor, sir,” the general quipped. Jack snorted.
(@)()(@)
“It's time,” Broken Tail said softly. “I will lead the escape. You will cover us with a distraction,” he said, turning to Broken Tooth.
The ex-security bull nodded once.
“Pick the biggest of them. Put on a show. A spectacle will draw all eyes in the compound. Once they fight,” he turned to the other bulls. “I want those who are not involved in the escape to circle them and cheer.”
“Do I get to win?” Broken Tooth asked, pounding a fist into the dirt gently.
“You'd better,” Broken Tail growled as he saw the big shaggy alien enter the exercise area with them. “That one,” he said slowly, pointing to the alien with a subtle hand gesture. “He comes in. Make them think he needs to learn a lesson,” Broken Tail ordered.
“This will fail,” the former ship's Alpha said from the stump. All eyes turned to him. “But you cannot be dissuaded, so learn by failure,” he said.
All eyes turned back to Broken Tail. He grunted. “We will not fail,” he said simply and then made a hand gesture to break the group up.
(@)()(@)
“Something's up, Sergeant. They are getting restless. The microphones picked up some snatches of conversation. They are planning something, and it's going to go off now.”
Ollie touched his right ear with a grimace as he heard the news. It wasn't good. He was starting to feel like his nickname of Ollie-Ollie Dorsi was coming to haunt him. Whatever the bulls were playing at, they were about to bring out into the open.
And they'd lose, he thought coldly. His people held all the cards. It just sucked that he was right smack dab in the middle of the exercise yard when it went south. He was tempted to make a run for the entrance but decided to stick it out. If he did run it would let on that they knew something was up. The aliens would just wait for another opportunity to come along, most likely with someone smaller and weaker than himself. He shook himself.
“Sounds like a prison break or a riot. Pull in second shift. Have the guards watch the usual places. We've been expecting this for a while,” the bear growled as he walked the perimeter of the exercise yard. He preferred to be the one to do it since the Taurens didn't mess with him. Drone scans could only take them so far. Sometimes eyes had to be there to scan something. Or, sometimes a nose or ears could pick something out.
Besides, he had a point to make, that he wasn't going to be intimidated by them. They might think of the yard as their space, they were right to a point, but the Terrans were the ones running the show.
“You've got one of the bigger ones coming up on your left. There is a group forming near the shelters.”
“They'll either cover someone or try to climb on top of the roof,” another voice said.
“Which means they need …,” the bear turned as a massive bull pointed to him and then bellowed a challenge.
He stopped and pointed to his own chest. “Really?” he demanded as the bulls nearby spread out in a circle.
“They are moving. You are on your own; you got this though, right?” the corporal asked.
“Um …,” the bull snorted and then rolled his massive neck and shoulders before he flexed. “Yeah? Sure?” he said as the bull kept displaying.
“Ah hell,” Sergeant Oliver “Ollie” Dorsi said as he saw the bull drop his head, snort, paw the ground with one hoof, then charge at him.
“Yeah, this is gonna be fun,” the grizzly bear growled, extending his body and claws, teeth bared. “You want some? Bring it!” he bellowed. He was tempted to go head-to-head with the Tauren but knew it would be foolhardy. If the bull got under him, he might be able to toss him over his head. It was unlikely but possible. Or he could get gored by the horns and spikes. Grappling was out.
Instead, he waited until the alien got within two meters of him and then rolled to the right side. The Tauren tried to shift to stay on him but he lashed out with his left hand and hooked the bull's left leg and yanked. Tripped, the bull went down sprawling in the dirt and grass.
The sergeant got up, dusting himself off as he saw the bull still recovering. “That's gotta hurt,” he said as the bull tucked his hands under his chest and did a push up. Blood and drool dribbled from the bull's torn chin and lower lip. “Yeah, I'd say so,” he said. “We done?” he asked pointedly, tapping his implants to translate what he was saying into the alien language.
Broken Tooth wiped at his mouth with his hand and turned a baleful eye on the hairy beast. He snarled, then turned to try to charge but his knee and ankle had been twisted. He felt the pain and tried to put it aside but he favored the limb anyway. He tested it and realized with a sinking heart he couldn't try another charge. “Lucky shot,” he growled.
“Ah, so you can talk to us,” the bear drawled, scratching at his arm with his claws, then using them to flick a piece of bramble away. “If you didn't notice, the distraction failed,” he said simply. He turned to point to the escape attempt.
Broken Tooth turned his head reluctantly to see the Taurens who had tried to jump onto the building while all of the eyes were fixed on him were standing with their hands up. He saw their eyes locked on the guard towers and looked up to see snipers there, pointing their weapons at them.
“So you won,” he said.
“Again. Yeah, we've played this game before,” the sergeant said indifferently as he rolled his shoulders to get the kinks out. He'd hit a rock when he'd rolled, and it was irritating him. “I wouldn't have minded wrestling with you, I need a good workout, but you've got some nasty horns,” he said.
“If you aren't willing to get hurt, you shouldn't be in here,” the bull replied with a snort as he rose fully.
“Oh, I didn't say I wasn't willing to take damage to dish it out,” the bear replied with a show of his teeth and claws. “I hate doctors. Healers you call them. They've got a thing about needles,” he said with a shudder.
Broken Tooth stared at him and for the first time despite himself and the situation he laughed. It was a soft braying laugh, but a laugh.
Oliver saw the laugh and snorted, brown eyes twinkling.
“Come on. They've got to fix your knee up anyway, so let's get that over with, then I'll buy you a beer,” the bear said.
The Tauren puzzled over the translation of fermented grain beverage. It sounded familiar, but something else bothered him. “Why?” Broken Tooth finally asked, eyeing the bear thoughtfully.
“Why not? No harm, no foul. You tried, you failed. No one got killed on either side.”
“That is a strange attitude,” the bull replied, dusting himself off and wiping at the blood.
“It took me a while to learn it. It helped when I got into sports,” the bear said as he went over and helped the bull walk. The bull looked startled as the bear supported him.
“You are a strange species.”
“Me? I'm a bear. There are a lot of different species here,” Oliver replied as he helped the bull over to a seat.
“What are sports?” the bull asked as he took his seat. He felt a bit chagrined about being helped by an enemy. It didn't feel right. He felt … wrong. Odd. It was like the hate was sapping out of him.
“Well, I admit what I did wasn't legal in American football,” the bruin replied with a brief smile. He looked up and waved a guard and then sent him a command to get a medic in. The Neocat nodded and then turned and passed the message on to the command. “I'll show you what I mean when we have those beers,” the bear said as he checked the bull's knee over. “Swelling up. Damn.”
“I knew I would be hurt,” Broken Tooth said.
Oliver privately admired the bull. He'd acted as a soldier, knowing that he'd be hurt, quite possibly killed but he'd done it for the team. That took guts. “I am Sergeant Oliver Dorsi. I go by Ollie,” he said as the medic came up to them. She was wide-eyed. “This is Emi. She's okay,” he said as he stepped aside to let the human female medic on duty examine her patient.
The bull
stared at the female. “You are female?”
“Yes,” the woman said, checking him over from a distance. “Let me get the spray out.” she said, getting the spray to seal the cuts and abrasions in his chin and lip. “We'll have to scan the knee. We might need to transport you to the infirmary,” the young woman said as she took the spray out and then gingerly reached out to touch it to the bull's chin.
“He won't bite. At least, he better not,” the bear growled.
“Not a female,” the bull replied, extending his neck slightly to allow the medic to work. When the cool gel was applied, he felt the cuts numb almost instantly. “You have strange customs.”
“I know. We've learned to adapt,” Emi said as she dabbed the lip cuts and then pulled back. She put the biospray away and then pulled out a hand scanner to scan the knee. “Hmmm, I don't think you dislocated anything. If you did it popped right back into place. Maybe a bit of tendinitis from the injury. We'll need a full doc to check to be sure. I'll get you some ice for the swelling …”
(@)()(@)
Broken Tail was angry that the escape had failed. He'd argued to do it at night, but they had determined that the aliens were even more watchful at night than during the day. Perhaps they should have tried during a storm? Frustration warred with distress over the failure as he saw the droop of the bulls around him.
He caught the gaze of a few of them and turned and stared at the enemies helping Broken Tooth. He didn't understand. It made no sense and it crazed him. But there was no way to vent such feelings. His frustration over the failed escape attempt were forgotten as he puzzled over the enemy's helping the bull.
He couldn't understand why the small alien helped the bull. She put something on the bull's knee, something that made the bull jerk and made a few of the bulls rumble. But Broken Tooth waved a hand to the healer and thanked her, something that confused the herd even further.
When a guard came over with glass bottles with a familiar green substance in it and a handheld screen, he flicked his ears. The big shaggy one took one of the bottles and popped the cap. That made ears across the field go up. Then muzzles lifted as the scent of a familiar beverage wafted through the wind. The grain beverage had been one of the first their kind had made. It was also one of their favorites.
He saw the shaggy alien hand Broken Tooth a bottle, something that startled him. Then the shaggy one indicated the screen the guard held. Broken Tooth turned and watched it, cocking his head with interest. He took a pull of the bottle and then stared at it, eyes wide before he took a deeper draft.
The big shaggy one seemed to laugh slightly but not maliciously. He turned to the screen. Broken Tail frowned and then moved inward slowly and at an angle to try to see what they were so keenly interested in.
When he saw Broken Tooth take another pull of his bottle and then the small alien place something else on his knee, Broken Tail scowled. But then his curiosity got the better of him as he saw Broken Tooth begin to grunt in a chuckle at whatever he was seeing on the screen.
Broken Tail turned away, disgusted.
(@)()(@)
The former ship's Alpha shook his head. He had known it would fail; the ploy was too obvious which was why he'd ignored it. But Broken Tail had insisted it would work. That would undermine the confidence of the herd in his leadership. But this new thing by their alien captors was interesting and maddening. Why? Why keep them alive was forgotten by the alien sitting there talking with Broken Tooth and watching something on a screen. And the bottle! He would kill for a grain beverage! The scent was different, but the color … it had to be! He shook his head. To some it might be too much, a few were edging closer to look and at least sniff the beer.
“Why,” he murmured to himself before he closed his eyes and listened with his hooves as the herd talked.
(@)()(@)
“So, what's this about giving the prisoners beer and a big vid screen. Are we running a POW camp or a day care?” Paul demanded.
“You serve beer at a day care?” Jack asked mildly.
Paul grimaced. “Okay, you know what I mean.”
“I think he meant sports bar. I'm curious myself,” Sharif said, looking at General Elliot.
“There was a recent prison break attempt,” the general started in slowly.
“And they get rewarded with beer and a vid screen?” Paul asked in disbelief. “Damn,” he said in scathing mock wonder.
“Is this one of those bribe them into being nice?” Debby asked.
“Hardly,” Sheriff Tupper said when the general looked his way. “It started with one of the guards getting jumped as a distraction. It didn't work as planned,” he said, smiling grimly. “That's what you get for trying to take on an adult grizzly that played American football,” he said, as Jeeves put a video up of the incident.
The council watched right up to the part where the group of Taurens moved in and started to ask questions and then get shushed as others tried to watch the game. “We nearly had a riot there,” the Sheriff admitted. “The guards cleaned out the beer.”
“So what, they just …,” Jack shook his head. “We've tried and tried, and he does it with beer and a football game? Damn.”
“Something we obviously overlooked. Male bonding,” Debby teased.
“Apparently,” Jack drawled.
“The beer and the game were a hit. We've got more requests for both, including a big screen for them to watch,” General Elliot said. “I say if they are willing to talk and play nice, fine. We've got them talking to us now. They aren't despondent; they are actually taking an interest in us. We're getting additional requests for comfort items.”
“Why bother?” Paul demanded.
“Do I not destroy my enemies by making them my friends?” Jack quoted softly.
The others around the table turned to him. There was a long silence before Paul's patience got the better of him. “Excuse me?”
“It's a quote,” General Elliot said.
“I got that,” Paul said dryly, still staring at the governor who appeared to be lost in thought.
“Someone pull his string, I think he wound down,” Debby joked. She reached out and poked Jack.
“Eh?”
“Lincoln. You were quoting President Abraham Lincoln,” Jeeves supplied helpfully.
“Yeah,” Jack said, shaking himself. “Lincoln had a hell of a time with the American Civil War. One of the quotes he said became something of a founding principle of American foreign policy for better or for worse afterward. It worked for the large part.”
“With war, yes. Economics?” Debby shook her head.
“What he is talking about is the extension of that theme used during aftermath of World War II and other conflicts. America's bitter opponents were humbled. In World War I the winners did their best to punish and break the losers. That eventually led to Germany's Nazi party rise to power. After the Second World War, they took a different path. Japan was proud but humbled and crushed. America rebuilt their country. Not quite out of the goodness of their heart, they wanted a stop against the spread of communism in Asia.” Jeeves pointed out.
“And Germany was split up. The allied side was treated far better and became prosperous. It didn't work out so well in South America or the Middle East for a long time. Of course the use of dictators and the CIA's antics didn't help, plus there were other factors,” Debby said with a shake of her head. “I believe you employed similar tactics in your corporate days,” Debby said, looking at Jack. “Trying to work with a company or using friendly competition but not let it get personal and 'don't be evil.'”
Jack nodded. “That and, 'speak softly but carry a big stick,'” he replied. “People, even potential enemies treat you seriously if they know you have it and are willing to use it,” he replied.
“Ah,” Sharif replied. “One can be merciful if they have the upper hand.”
“Still not helping,” Paul griped.
“What he means is, by working with the Taurens in custody, g
aining their trust, bonding, we'll get more information out of them. It is a basic strategy of any interrogation or even in spying. You gain the subject's trust, make them think you are on their side, a sympathetic ear. You listen and use leading questions. Eventually you get them in deep enough where they can't get out,” Sheriff Tupper replied.
“Oh.”
“But this isn't just something to use here. Eventually this war will be over. How do we handle it? When we get the upper hand, do we prove we're better by crushing them in Jacksonian style under our boot, or do we break them only enough to stop them from fighting back? Show them mercy?” Jack asked.
Paul stared at him. Finally, he shook himself. “I didn't think I'd hear something like that coming out of you, Governor,” he said slowly.
“I'm full of surprises,” Jack replied. “I take the long game. I know this war will end. We still have to win it,” he nodded to the general. “But eventually, we will.”
“There is another benefit. By treating the Taurens as people to be respected, we show them they can get along with us. If the Taurens ever do show up in force, we can use that,” Debby pointed out.
“Or, we can use them as emissaries to their people when we do kick their ass,” Captain Cooley replied.
“That too.”
“Okay, so, beer and a television. Whatever,” Paul said with a shake of his head. “I guess whatever brings about an end to this.”
“If watching football and drinking beer would only solve all problems in the universe, we'd have a lot of drunk people all the time,” Debby murmured.
Jack snorted.
“We're integrating the new Tauren captives into the prison population. It should be interesting to see how they react and how the older captives react,” the Sheriff replied.
“Keep us posted,” Jack said with a nod. “Now, next item on the agenda for today—the expansion of our gas refinery platform, orbital industry, and the establishment of a possible shipyard near the belt. I think we should take them each in turn. Paul? I think you had some thoughts, right?” Jack asked as the meeting moved on to other topics.