Gray Panthers Captain Short Blade

by David Guenther

“Well, I got the uniform material for your army,” Guns said as he opened a fresh beer. “Part of the deal included me making half a million.”

  I don’t have time for stories, Short Blade thought. “How’d it go with the cows, Jimmy?”

  “We have to make a little side trip to pick them up. My old friend who I was going to have help me died awhile back, but his granddaughter agreed to sell us her herd and come with us. She’s a veterinarian. We really should have her check on the health of your cows, and it’ll be good to have her there when you start breeding your own calves.”

  Short Blade thought about it and decided to accept what Jimmy had said as a suggestion, and not necessarily as a course of action.

  “That’s a good idea, Jimmy. Let me order us some breakfast and we can be on our way.”

  Both men groaned in unison as they got out of the chairs they’d slept in. They grabbed their fresh clothes from a portable clothes rack near the door and disappeared into their rooms. Short Blade heard the showers running in both rooms as he placed their breakfast order. What a pair of characters, he thought. But he had to admit that they had never failed him, and he had learned a great deal from them.

  The ride in the hotel limo back to the shuttle was quiet. Jimmy and Guns were tired and slightly hungover. Short Blade was thinking about having a strange human at his ranch, and a female, at that. He didn’t know how well that would work, especially after the men hadn’t been around any other women for a while. Guns was realizing that he was now a millionaire, between the profit from the wine and the real estate transaction he’d pulled off yesterday. Life was really looking up, especially if he could get back to Dixie and a certain little redhead. Jimmy was watching the scenery go by and wondering if the big asshole from last night might be lurking around the shuttle, waiting to settle some unfinished business.

  The security service at the stockyard had made a point of keeping people away from the shuttle, although a few curious folks had managed to take pictures of it. Short Blade was happy with the amount of material in the second cargo hold and realized it must have taken a while to load so much in the amount of time he had given the guys. He turned his thoughts to the new cows they’d soon be picking up. He was still apprehensive at the thought of another human joining them on the trip back to his home world and maybe becoming a permanent part of his staff at the ranch. He decided if he didn’t like her he would leave her behind after he bought her herd. As he entered the cockpit, Jimmy was finishing his instructions to Phoenix.

  “Captain, we’re ready to take off as soon as you give the word. Flight plans have been coordinated with the different zones we’ll be flying through.”

  Short Blade was happy to see Jimmy’s professionalism and acted accordingly. “Very good, Chief. It’s your ship while we’re in Earth space. Let me know when we get there.”

  He left the cockpit and made his way to the second cargo bay, where Guns was going through a fabric cart of assembled uniforms. He had pulled out a few sets of uniforms and had already put one on.

  “What do ya think, boss? Shouldn’t all your troops wear your uniform?”

  Short Blade noticed the pride in his eyes as Guns stood there in his old uniform—it reminded him of how the beggar warriors had been at the ranch.

  “You look good in the uniform, Guns. See if you can find some sets for Jimmy, too. How much did all of this fabric cost?”

  “It’s my gift to you, Captain. I got the rolls of fabric and uniforms free as part of the business deal I arranged.”

  “The deal with the half-million-dollar profit?”

  “That’s the one.” Guns was smiling happily.

  “That’s great, Guns. Are you sure you don’t want to be paid for the fabric?”

  “I’ll let you pay for the storeroom full of fabric I couldn’t fit in this load. How’s that, sir?”

  Short Blade couldn’t hide his amazement at what Guns had accomplished. Maybe he should get a second shuttle and send him and Jimmy off on their own to make him rich.

  “That works for me. Tell Phoenix how much to transfer from my account to yours.”

  “Jimmy to crew. We’re about to land.”

  As the shuttle descended, Jimmy saw someone on the ground feeding a small trashcan fire. The willowy smoke from the fire indicated the wind direction. When the shuttle was low enough, he could see the woman—he assumed it was Namid—was pointing to an open space by an empty corral. Landing the shuttle so that the cargo hatch was close to the corral was no problem. The ramp for the main cargo hatch was already dropping as the engine was shutting down. The smell of manure and freshly cut grass wafted through the shuttle. Knowing there was no time to waste, Namid had already started adjusting a run to the shuttle. Jimmy was the first one out.

  “Namid, I’m so glad to meet you,” he said as he gave his old friend’s granddaughter a once-over. The black-haired girl, who looked about twenty-five, was slightly over five feet tall and had a muscular build. The cutoffs and the white, sweat-drenched tank top she was wearing left little to the imagination.

  “I’m glad to meet you too, Hotuaekhaashtait.” She took off her work gloves and surprised Jimmy with a hug.

  “Please, call me Jimmy. Those two in the hatchway are Guns and Short Blade.”

  Namid was immediately captivated by Short Blade. “Oooh, you are soo cute!” she said as she walked over and gave him a big, long hug.

  Short Blade was taken aback by the unexpected show of affection from the female, who was slightly taller than he was. He decided he liked her. Guns smiled as he watched the changing expressions on Short Blade’s face and said nothing about being ignored.

  “You’re attractive for a human, I guess,” Short Blade said with a shrug once Namid had stopped hugging him.

  “I’ve wanted to visit other planets and meet beings from other worlds since I was a small girl. My name, Namid, means Star Dancer in Cheyenne, my people’s language.”

  “Namid, we’ll have time to talk later. I’d like to be on our way as soon as possible, so if you don’t mind, let’s take a look at your cattle. I’m eager to hear your ideas for integrating them with my herd at home.”

  Namid smiled and whistled three times loudly. Four mixed-breed collies came running and began to herd the cows into the corral. Realizing he didn’t have a weapon, Short Blade nervously backed away from the dogs. He desperately wanted to run for the shuttle.

  “Alpha, come,” Namid ordered.

  The collie trotted over to his mistress. Short Blade was astounded that the creature didn’t try to attack him.

  “Alpha, sit. Alpha, shake paws.”

  Short Blade watched as the dog sat and then held out a paw to him. The dog’s tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth, which made him look like he was laughing. Short Blade took the offered paw.

  “Nice doggy,” he said as he shook the paw.

  The dog’s ears perked up, and he seemed to understand what Short Blade had said. Remembering a show about dogs that he’d seen on TV, Short Blade thought he’d try something.

  “Alpha, can you walk around me and come back to where you are now?”

  Alpha cocked his head and gazed at Short Blade,.

  “Short Blade, dogs don’t—” Namid stopped midsentence as Alpha walked around Short Blade and then sat down again.

  Short Blade just smiled before he continued. “We can talk more about this later, too. Right now, let’s get the cattle—and the dogs—on board.”

  Namid opened a gate to the ramp, and Alpha returned to the other dogs to help them herd the cows into the shuttle.

  “We’ll take off in fifteen minutes, if that’s all right with you, Namid. Jimmy, Guns, please help her get her belongings into the shuttle,” Short Blade said when the last of the cattle were inside.

  Both men were surprised when they learned that all she planned to take were seeds, some cases of medicine, and a few other small boxes.

  “Dang, girl. I expected a half-ton of clothes and silly
shit. I’m gonna like you.” Guns said. Namid smiled back at him and he blushed.

  “I doubt there are many parties where we’re going. I also have a feeling these herbs won’t be there, either. When I was in the service I learned not to hold on to anything I wasn’t prepared to carry.”

  “So our vet is a vet?” Guns observed, laughing at his own joke as he adjusted the boxes in his arms.

  “The ROTC put me through college I ended up spending six years in. My first year, I took care of K9s and dependents’ family pets. Later I joined a unit that went to third-world countries in small teams and helped natives learn about taking care of their animals. I also learned about natural medicines that work better than most pharmaceuticals.” She paused after setting her boxes down and took a good look at Guns. “How old are you, Guns? I’d guess seventy, but you’re in too good a condition.”

  “Well, thanks. Actually, I’m eighty. I had the nanite treatment, so I have the body of a twenty-year-old—just not the appearance of one.”

  Namid looked over at Jimmy and realized that he was probably even older, though just as spry.

  “Why haven’t they given this to the world? No one would be sick or die—”

  Jimmy halted the speech he’d heard too many times before.

  “With no one dying, we’d be overcrowded and run out of resources. Then there would be, famine, and more war. Who would decide who was to live and who was to die? Who would make the decisions regarding procreation? Do you think poor people would get the treatment, or only the rich? At first I thought Dan Daniels was a bastard for not making the nanites widely available, but eventually I came to agree with him. Imagine trying to fund Social Security for people who could live forever.”

  “Okay. We can continue this discussion another time,” Namid said, sounding as if she wasn’t totally convinced that Jimmy was right. “We’re done here. That’s all I’m bringing.”

  Jimmy nodded and closed the hatch behind them. From a window in the passageway, Namid peered into the main cargo hold to check on her herd. Jimmy opened a panel and flipped a series of switches. Namid gasped as the cattle began to gently collapse, like marionettes whose strings had been cut.

  “Don’t worry. There’s a stasis field generator that will keep them from moving around or hurting themselves or each other,” Jimmy assured her. “I’ve had it used on me thousands of times. It’s actually restful.”

  “Will we have to be put to sleep too?” Namid asked nervously.

  “No. The trip is only a little more than a day.”

  “How long until we take off then?”

  “I think we may have already. Phoenix, have we taken off yet?”

  “The ship has launched but is still in the atmosphere. Do you want me to project our flight status?”

  “Yes, for Namid’s benefit, please display our current status.”

  A three-screen display appeared on the bulkhead. On the first screen was a view of the ship in relation to the atmosphere. The second screen showed the view from the ship as it left Earth. The third screen showed the sky ahead as it turned from blue to black. Namid stood transfixed as she watched the different screens.

  “If you need anything, just ask any of us,” Jimmy told her. “The cockpit and number one cargo hold are the only areas that are off-limit.”

  The Vengeance

  19 April 2129

  Harve skimmed through the list he’d been given of Libra depots the ship was to check out. He knew right away that none of the depots would provide anything of value. Out of curiosity, he pulled up the database of depots from the Vengeance’s original files, and as he scrolled down, he spotted MWezi, an unmanned reserve depot that was strictly for combat support. It would have weapons and assorted munitions, along with basic supplies. He asked to speak with the captain.

  “Captain, thank you for seeing me.”

  “Harve, you don’t waste my time or try to kiss my ass. What do you want?”

  “Sir, is the depot MWezi on any of the other ships’ lists of bases to check out?”

  “We’re the only flotilla checking out the old depots. What’s special about MWezi?”

  “It’s a reserve combat support depot. It was set up as a location that could provide weapons and munitions, as well as many basic necessities, in case the war took a turn for the worse. With all due respect, sir, the list of depots you gave me is crap. We’re running around checking out worthless sites while the important facilities are no doubt being plundered.”

  Handing the captain the list he’d printed out, Harve continued. “I pulled this list of depots and their main support functions from our ship’s database. Compare this list to the one we were given. Do you think someone’s trying to get rich by keeping us out of the way?”

  “Harve, get out of my cabin now! Insubordination like that is a court martial offense!”

  Harve bolted from the cabin as if his life had been threatened. When he returned to engineering, the sailors of both species watched him with curiosity. Harve wondered if he was a dead Libra walking.

  “Captain to crew. We’ll be engaging the FTL drive in fifteen minutes. The flotilla will be checking out another depot. Estimated time in FTL is six hours. We’ll drop short to avoid becoming a target again. The gods of war smile on us. Captain, out.”

  Harve pulled up the navigation computer and confirmed that the intended destination was MWezi. A shiver went through him. He knew this would be a hot drop out of FTL.

  “All personnel,” he announced, “you will have three hours to check and prepare your combat suits. After that, I may depressurize areas as a test. If you fail the test, you will die.”

  Chief Edge approached Harve. “Sir, may I have a word in private?”

  “Go ahead, Chief.”

  Sir, the sailors are mostly inexperienced to begin with. Why take such a chance now?”

  “Between you and me, Chief Edge, I expect we’ll be going into the fire when we drop. Not only do I want our sailors ready, but I also want them to survive. You will inspect them to make sure that the bottles on their suits are full and that their suits fit properly. Put the fear of almighty fire into them all!”

  “Yes, sir! We will kick tail!”

  The chief looked like he was actually looking forward to combat. Harve let out a soft sigh. The more he thought about it, the more their prospects of survival seemed to drop.

  “Sir, I had both shifts report to me, and I’ve inspected every sailor. I sent three to supply to get new parts. I released the off-duty shift but told them not to get too comfortable.” Harve checked his wrist and was surprised to see that they would drop in less than an hour.

  “Chief, run half of the sailors to get something to eat and drink. Get them back quickly so the others can then eat. If the mess officer has any complaints, tell him to see me.” Now if I could just manage to hold down some food myself, Harve thought, wondering if he was a coward

  It seemed like in no time at all the command Harve had been dreading sounded through the speakers.

  “Captain to crew. Prepare for battle. We’ll be dropping out of FTL in ten minutes.”

  Harve watched as the chief saved him the trouble of getting everyone set up and ensuring they were in the correct positions. His empty stomach began to rumble and he felt like throwing up.

  “Dropping now!”

  The lack of any additional comments made Harve relax. He was happy to have been wrong.

  “Captain to MO Harve. Prepare to take a team in two shuttles to check out the supplies at the depot. We’ll be in easy shuttle range in five minutes.”

  Harve ordered the chief to assemble his team and then excused himself. As he puked until his stomach was empty, he was thankful his cabin had its own head. When he was done, he grabbed his side arm and coat, along with his newly assembled emergency pack, which included rations and a first aid kit. This time, he would be prepared. The sailors and four marines were waiting for him in the bay.

  “We did this before, and
we can do it again,” he told them. “I don’t know what we’ll find, but this was an important facility—so be ready. It was also an unmanned facility, so no one should be there.”

  Harve recognized the pilot of the shuttle as the one who thought he was a fighter pilot. The shuttle entered the atmosphere like a comet. The pilot only slowed when he began to get warning lights—from external heat.

  “One minute out!” the pilot announced, sounding disappointed. He obviously hadn’t learned yet that often the most dangerous part of the trip was a minute out.

  “Everyone, be sure your weapons are loaded and on safe,” Harve ordered. “Anyone shoots a hole in this shuttle or in me, your grandmother will feel your pain!”

  The shuttle hit the ground hard and Harve felt his safety belt dig into his gut.

  “Pilot, did we crash?” Harve shouted, happy to be on the ground.

  The pilot raised his arm and made the sign of a circle with his fingers as the hatch opened.

  “Come on, everyone,” Harve said as he led his team to the hatch. “We’re not wanted here.”

  The smell of sulphur and the extreme heat made two of the sailors drop to their knees and begin to pray.

  “Off your knees, damn it,” Harve shouted, “or you’ll wish you were in the fiery place! Everyone get to the depot, now!”

  The ground shook and lava began to spew from a distant volcano. The tarmac was cracked from seismic activity. Now I know why the depot is unmanned, Harve thought. This place would make a great prison.

  The front of the facility was undisturbed except for the peeling paint and large areas of rust. Harve spotted a scanner by the main entrance and hoped it still was working.

  “Harve from fleet logistics requests access,” he said into the speaker. The entire side of the building opened, to Harve’s surprise. “Okay, everyone spread out and begin to search—and keep an eye out. We don’t know what little devils may have taken up residence. You two marines, keep watch to make sure we don’t get any unexpected visitors.”

  Feeling drenched, Harve took off his coat. The shelves ahead of him looked untouched. He was going over for a closer inspection when he heard a clatter from the far side of the huge warehouse. Two sailors let out blood-curdling screams and ran for the entrance. Neither had their weapons.