Gray Panthers Captain Short Blade (13 page)

“I want a sentry on each side of the building, now,” Ramirez instructed. “And bring me the Libra slaves. They are not to be hurt.”

The Libra had all scrambled as quickly as they could into a corner to hide. They were shaking pathetically as a warrior herded them to Ramirez.

“You are all free. You can wait for the authorities or you can come with us. We’ll pay you to take care of the cattle on our ranch.”

One of the Libra nodded his head yes and the others followed suit. Ramirez knelt and used his short beamer to cut off the chains around their ankles.

“I have a shuttle outside. Get the cattle aboard as quickly as you can,” he told them.

“Sir, the cows are all chained and locked. We don’t have the keys.”

Ramirez decided to take a chance. “Any of you know how to use a laser pistol?”

One Libra raised his hand and then flinched as Ramirez handed him the short beamer.

“Try to not kill any cows or any of my warriors.”

As the Libra headed toward the cows, he noticed the other Jacka warriors watching him intently.

Short Blade entered the building as Ramirez was walking over to the refrigeration unit. They both looked at the unit and saw that it would just barely fit through the shuttle’s hatchway.

“Juan, I don’t like how I feel, missing the assault on the building. It’s my responsibility to lead my warriors.”

“Sir, you’re too important. You plan and organize the raid. I lead it as your junior officer. That’s something you have to accept.”

Short Blade just muttered in response as he watched the warriors carefully checking the dead bodies. The guards had been branded on the back of their paws to indicate that they were criminals. Each also had a new brand mark over the tattoo in the shape of an X.

This new information disturbed Short Blade and he rushed the transfer of equipment and cattle from the facility to the shuttle. The sun was beginning to rise as the tasks were finally completed. The freed Libra slave approached Ramirez with the short beamer, holding it away from him with only two fingers so no one would mistake his intentions.

“Thanks. Now get yourself and your people on the shuttle. Stay with the cattle and keep them calm.”

Ramirez was happy that the Libra had accepted his offer of employment. It would have been ugly if the Jacka had tried to herd the cows out. Luckily, the Jacks understood the cows’ fear of them, though they refused to admit their fear of the cows.

The warriors were returning from their sentry positions when a shot rang out from a crumbling wall about thirty feet away. Short Blade had seen the flash from the shot. He roared and leaped forward, the warriors all following him. Pulling the short sword from his side, he began to foam from his mouth as he charged toward the source of the flash. Two other weapons fired at his warriors. He jumped the partial wall and let loose with his sword. It sliced through the shooter’s neck, decapitating him. Short Blade saw a new shooter taking aim at him from his left, but before he could react, the senior sergeant roared and thrust his rifle’s bayonet into the enemy’s chest. His heart beating wildly, Short Blade scanned the rubble for the third shooter. He finally saw him nearly fifty feet away. The shooter dropped his rifle and ran full bore in retreat. Short Blade stopped his warriors from pursuing.

“That is the smartest Jacka on the planet! All he needed to see were the warriors from the House of Short Blade to send him running. We’ll let him live so he can tell the story of your bravery. Let’s go home!” Short Blade shouted to his troops.

Watching Short Blade, Ramirez remembered how the little Jacka had once broken up an ambush on another planet, fearlessly charging the enemy just as he had done moments ago. Ramirez couldn’t help but think that Short Blade could have been a marine.

On board the shuttle, Short Blade walked among the troops as they came down from their combat high. Relieved that no one had been seriously injured, he proceeded to the rescued cows. The Libra were nervously tending to animals, wiping them down and talking to them in soft tones. The cows were still agitated, but the Libra were doing a good job of calming them, even as they watched Short Blade with obvious fear. Short Blade made a point of keeping his distance from the cows because of their inherent fear of the lion-like Jacka.

“Which one of you will speak for the group?” Short Blade asked.

“I will. My name is Trader,” a tall, slim Libra answered with apprehension.

“I see your group is good with the cows, and they’re not afraid of you. I’m offering you all room and board at my ranch, along with a monthly salary. If you don’t want to accept my offer, there won’t be any hard feelings. I’ll have you taken anywhere you want to go on the planet,” Short Blade told him. Although he felt a sense of revulsion toward them simply because they were Libra, he empathized with their situation.
The war is over. Life must go on,
Short Blade thought as he waited for Trader to reply.

Trader took a few moments to confer with the others in the group and then said, “We accept your offer, sir.”

Short Blade was pleased at the way the raid had turned out. The rest of the short ride back to the ranch was quiet. When the shuttle landed, he made an announcement to his warriors before the hatch was opened.

“After the cows have been unloaded and you have returned your weapons to the armory, you may all have a bottle of milk to celebrate our success.”

When Short Blade exited the shuttle, Namid was standing there holding her medical bag so tightly her knuckles were white.

“Were there any casualties?” she asked before he had a chance to say anything

“We had no injuries. But you should examine the cows, as well as the new workers—they’ve been held as slaves. I don’t want to show concern, as they may think I’m weak. Do not trust the Libra. I only brought them back out of pity. See that they have a place to bed down in the barn, and we’ll find better arrangements for them later in the day. They’ll be your responsibility.”

Namid stepped closer to Short Blade and whispered, “I know you’re a softy, but your secret is safe with me.” She then cupped the sides of his head with her hands and quickly rubbed her forehead against his before running off to see to the cows and the Libra workers.

Short Blade stood in mute astonishment at what had just happened. Watching the woman run toward the barn, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he was happy.
If only human females weren’t so damn ugly and unpredictable,
he thought. He then noticed that his warriors were watching him. Embarrassed, he decided he should check on the perimeter guard. As he turned to leave, the warriors roared with laughter.

Returning to the ranch later that evening, Short Blade found the warriors and the humans sitting around a campfire. Most of the warriors had finished their milk and were deep in song. The humans were drinking their alcohol and celebrating as well. When they saw Short Blade, they all broke out in a chant. “Short Blade, Short Blade, Short Blade.”

Climbing off his hover cycle, Short Blade reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out his flask. He raised it above his head and waited for the chanting to stop. Soon, it was quiet enough to hear the bugs.

“I salute you, warriors of the House of Short Blade!” he said before raising the flask to his lips. He welcomed the taste of the milk as he took a strong swig.

Calling Senior Sergeant Knife off to the side, Short Blade addressed him in a low voice. “I have a busy day tomorrow, so I’m going inside. You may continue the celebration as long as you wish, though I will expect the guard detail to be rotated with fresh guards who are sober.”

“Yes, sir. I have a group of sober warriors for the changing of the guard,” Knife assured him.

Short Blade noticed that the sergeant, who had appeared intoxicated while he was with the warriors, now seemed sober after receiving his orders for the night. It reminded him of Jimmy and Guns, back in the days when they had taught him how to be a chief on the Beater. Thinking about the Beater, he decided he would see if he could find the remains of the old ship. He wanted to honor his old captain, who had died with the ship when he set off explosives to scuttle it and destroy the AI. As he walked over to the two old chiefs, he motioned for them to remain seated.

“In the afternoon tomorrow, I’m going to try to find the Beater and, if possible, take the captain home. Enjoy the rest of your evening, gentlemen.”

He turned and walked back to his house, not seeing Jimmy and Guns look at each other and then at the former marines who had been attached to the Beater. The men all got up without a word and left the circle, each of them remembering the last time they’d seen the old ship, dead in an asteroid field, and the man they credited with saving their lives.

Once he was inside, Short Blade felt loneliness coming over him. Gazing out the window at his warriors enjoying themselves made him feel even worse. He withdrew from the window and climbed the steps, his thoughts going back to the Beater. The ship’s last mission was the only one he’d missed since joining the crew. He’d been on temporary duty as Dan Daniels’s aide at the time. For the umpteenth time, he wondered if he could have repaired the ship or made a difference in the outcome if he’d been there. As he lay down, the milk finally seemed to be taking effect and he passed into an easy slumber.

Central space dock, planet Glory

23 April 2129

Superior Captain Thrust looked at the orders for the Vengeance and knew something was afoot. The reception his ship had received wasn’t as welcoming as he’d expected after returning from the mission to find the Libra military supplies.

The ship was to be put into space dock and upgraded with an artificial intelligence unit. The modification hadn’t been sanctioned by the Gray Panthers, who had performed the upgrade for all of the other ships. Thrust was excited that the Fire warriors were now taking responsibility for upgrading their own ships, but then he had to laugh when he realized that his maintenance officer, a Libra, had been given the responsibility of managing the project.

The job would most likely take quite awhile, so another ship would be tasked with searching out the supplies the Fire warriors needed and, even more important, keeping the supplies away from pirates and other undesirables. It seemed to Thrust that someone at command wanted those materials to disappear before they could be recovered.

Harve was excited at the prospect of upgrading the cruiser with an AI, but his excitement faded when he was informed that there were no instructions for installing the device.

“Kutomba! Where do these idiots expect me to begin?” he muttered as he kicked a toolbox out of his way. Glancing up, he saw Superior Captain Thrust smiling at him.

“MO Harve, I’m surprised at you. When you were in school, did you never copy someone else’s homework? There’s a cruiser in the bay next to us that has an infestation problem, and the council has issued orders for a contractor to remedy the problem instead of just spacing the vermin. Why not ask the cruiser’s AI to assist you in installing our ship’s AI? You can use the cruiser’s droids, as well.”

“I supposed that was too simple a fix to even occur to me. I’m used to the Libra way of requesting assistance and then submitting the documented requirements. I’ll go over there now and ask for assistance. Thank you, Superior Captain, for the suggestion.”

“No, MO Harve, you’ll go to the space dock and request that a fabricator be installed in our ship—the same type used on other cruisers that have AIs. It’ll make whoever is trying to slow us down think we’re doing everything ourselves, and they’ll become complacent. Once we have the fabricator, then we can ask for assistance, since we’ll have the support mechanism in place to fully utilize the AI’s help. After we’ve had the cruiser’s AI help us install our own AI, we won’t need any other external support to modify the ship,” Thrust explained.

“Sir, is the space dock manned by military or civilians?” Harve was already planning how he would get the fabricator if push came to shove.

“It’s manned by government employees of the League of Planets. Workers could be from any of the planets. The military garrison on board is strictly for security and to man the defense batteries. I don’t like the look in your eyes, Harve. I’m going to leave you now to your work.”

Harve picked up an old knife and a scabbard he’d found on the ship and went to the ship’s kitchen.

“Attendant, bring me a small piece of bloody meat,” he ordered.

The mess attendant, a Libra, disappeared and returned a minute later with a small piece of meat, trying not to smell it as he set it on the table. Harve took out the knife and cut deeply into the meat, covering the blade with blood. He then set the scabbard on the table and poured blood into and on top of it before sliding the knife back inside. Handing the plate of meat back to the mess attendant, he said, “Thank you for your help. You may do whatever you wish with the meat now.”

Strolling through the docks, Harve was impressed with the construction. He noticed some Libra workmanship, as well as a variety of others that seemed to complement one another. He found fleet supply easily. Entering, he saw a short, wide alien that he recognized as a Switian—a being from the planet Swit, the home world for the League of Planets.

“So, what are ya gonna try to rob me of today, maintenance officer?” the Switian asked from behind a low counter. His skin was bright yellow, with a soft, gelatinous appearance caused by fat deposits. Harve tried not to stare at his almond-shaped eyes, which looked like black quartz, or his oversized ears, which reminded him of a picture he’d once seen of an elephant from Earth.

“I came from the Vengeance. We’re refitting the entire ship and need to have a fabricator installed.” Harve waited for the expected argument.

“We only have one fabricator. If I gave it to you, we wouldn’t have any left.” The little technician didn’t even try to hide his smile.

“You realize that the only reason my ship is here is to have the fabricator installed, right?” Harve felt like he was talking with a child as he tried to keep his anger in check.

“Yes, maintenance officer, I understand. But we must maintain a minimum of equipment here on the station to show that we’re able to support the fleet.”

“But you’re not supporting the fleet if you hold on to the equipment we need! There’s still a war going on out there against the pirates.”

Harve pulled out the knife from inside his uniform jacket and stabbed it into the counter. The knife tip sunk in about an inch, the rest of the blade dripping blood. The technician almost tripped in his haste to back away.

“That, my friend, was taken on my last mission. Imagine the stories you could tell if you had that hanging on your wall!”

The technician slowly approached the counter and timidly reached for the knife, ready to back away if he needed to. Looking at Harve, he asked, “May I take a closer look at the knife, please?” Pulling the knife out of the counter, his head swam with thoughts of showing it off or selling it to someone he knew who collected such things. He could make a nice profit. Harve threw the bloodied scabbard onto the counter and a puddle formed around it.

The little technician almost squealed as he took the knife and scabbard from the counter. “The fabricator will be delivered to the Vengeance this afternoon, maintenance officer.”

Keeping a stern look on his face, Harve was inwardly delighted that his plan had had the desired effect.

“I’m sure it will be, my little friend, because you don’t want me to come back here unhappy. The last owner of the knife made me unhappy.”

Harve smiled evilly as he watched the technician’s expression change from joy to utter fear. He barely made it out of the supply room and into the hall before he broke out in laughter, both from the look on the technician’s face and from relief that he had managed to get the fabricator.

As he returned to the ship he was deep in thought about the fabricator and didn’t see the captain until the last minute. Whipping out his right arm, he saluted as the captain began speaking.

“You look a little lost there, MO Harve. Don’t worry. I’ll help you get the fabricator. I know how difficult it can be, dealing with bureaucrats.”

“Sir, the fabricator will be delivered this afternoon. I’m just on my way back from requesting it.”

Thrust looked at Harve with amazement.

“I may have left their counter a little bloody, but I don’t think there are going to be any complaints. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to get the maintenance area ready for the fabricator.”

Thrust decided he didn’t want to know about the bloody counter.