Gray Panthers: Dixie (15 page)

GP forward command post, planet Dixie

10 November 2128

“We’ve changed our method of curing the wobblers in New Mississippi,” Colonel Kildare from the US Army told General Black. “The GPs are opening buildings and freeing the wobblers from the buildings. US forces are acting like pied pipers, drawing them out of the city. Once we get them out of the city, we use the sticks on them. Four to eight hours later, they wake up.

“The victims have no memory of the time they were infected. The nanites had the side effect of ensuring that the host was healthy by repairing any medical problems. The nanites also repaired any damage the victims sustained if they were infected as the result of being scratched or bitten during an attack.

“Those who’ve been cured and no longer have the nanites have a marker in them that makes them undesirable to those who are still infected. As a result, they’re ignored by the wobblers and can’t be reinfected.

“It is my recommendation that further handling of the wobbler infection be passed to the Dixians,” the colonel advised.

“Colonel Kildare, thank you for your recommendations. Does that mean we have nothing to contribute to the cure besides our manpower?” General Black inquired.

“Sir, with the number of cured available to safely continue the process, it makes no sense to risk vulnerable US troops, who could be dedicated to rooting out and destroying Libra forces.”

“Major Lee, you were the commander of the New Mississippi militia. What is the status of your command at this point?” Black asked.

“We are back to twenty percent of our manning, and growing every day as our people are returned. Our armories are intact. The self-defense batteries have either been destroyed or are missing.”

“What is the risk to my forces from those batteries, Major?”

“The heavy batteries need to be repaired. Ten light man-portable units are missing, along with thirty charges. These units are primarily for use against air assets but could be used against lightly armored ground vehicles.”

“Where do you think we will find the remaining Red Coats, Major?”

“From interviewing civilians and my own militia, the enemy is in the underground defense works, where we were ready to make our last stand.”

“Can you provide us with the plans and other information about those facilities? We will then clean them out.”

“General, my engineers have already disabled the power going to the facility. They have maybe another day of emergency lighting. The air should start getting bad about the same time. We’ll provide the location and plans to your forces.”

“Major Lee, let my staff know if they can be of any assistance to you,” Black offered. “Thank you for all your assistance,”

“Lieutenant Scholl,” Black continued, “I have some mixed feelings about your performance during this operation. Your discovery of what we are calling the Scholl Sticks has been invaluable, but conducting an illegal operation that resulted in fatalities cannot be overlooked. Since it was a joint operation with Dixie forces, including an officer senior to you, we absolve you of responsibility. The Dixie command, however, may have another view. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Captain Scholl, you are now attached to my air support staff. You are dismissed.”

Scotty was stunned by the way things had happened. His only worry now was if any of the injuries to his eyes and ears might keep him from flying again.

Gray Panthers headquarters, Arizona

10 November 2128

“Welcome back to Earth, Captain Johnson. We didn’t expect you home this soon, though I am very glad to see you. I hope there wasn’t too major of a problem out there,” Abby said.

Johnson started to sweat.
Had they heard something already? What were they going to find when they copied the ship’s logs for the archive?

“Sir, when we destroyed the refinery near the Gas Giant Rewards, we damaged seven enemy combat ships and destroyed a dozen tankers. There was also collateral damage. A civilian space dock was destroyed.”

“Sounds like that alone made the trip worth it. Download your logs and take leave for yourself and crew for a couple of days. I will need your ship ready to depart on the twelfth. We’ll have a full crew go over your ship from top to bottom. Is there anything else you have for me?”

“Sir, I need to report that I am guilty of genocide. I killed thousands of innocent civilians.” Johnson managed to keep from breaking down at his admission of guilt. He welcomed his punishment, whatever it would be.

“Captain Johnson, I have some news I don’t think you’ll care for. Earth is not a signatory to any articles of war. We refuse to see ourselves under the jurisdiction of any alien governing body. The determination of this matter that took place not only off our world, but outside of our solar system, ultimately rests with the commander of the Gray Panthers. Dan has put me in full charge of the Gray Panthers.

“I am going to do a full and impartial investigation of this matter. I am going to review your logs and ship’s records. I am then going to make a determination that it was an accident of war. 

“Captain, I have seen real war. I have blood on my hands. I am not going to give you the luxury of affording guilt. That is for when the last bullet has been shot and the last body buried. Go see your priest, or your shrink or bartender, but in two days, be ready to go back out again. If you want to talk, I will be available. The record of your mission is top secret, Blue Falcon, compartmentalized to members of your crew only and myself. I will see to it that your crew is briefed immediately.

“Captain, war sucks. You are dismissed. Try to enjoy your downtime.” As Abby watched the captain leave his office, he knew his own ghosts would visit him later that night.

Guns and Jimmy knew better than to take any chances—they left the ship as soon as word was given they had a forty-eight-hour liberty. Short Blade was hesitant but agreed to join his comrades.

The trio piled into an old Dodge pickup that Jimmy had owned for over twenty years. The truck turned over on the first try, and country music blasted from the speakers.

“Oops. Sorry, guys. What’s our first priority? I used to go for a good steak after every mission, but the chef unit does such a good job, I need to lose a few pounds,” Jimmy said, patting his stomach for effect.

“Bullshit, Slim. You’re still rail thin. I want to go to a bar where we can relax and just chill. We can make plans from there,” Guns requested as he opened a beer and handed it to Jimmy, then opened one for himself.

“Sorry, little partner. I know you don’t like booze,” Guns called over his shoulder to Short Blade in the back of the truck cabin.

“That’s all right. You’ve taught me well,” Short Blade replied. Guns turned around to see that Short Blade had pulled out a half pint of milk.

“Ha! Short Blade, you have learned well!” Both chiefs laughed uproariously. Their nervous energy was dissipating as they drove farther from the base. Short Blade beamed as a result of his acceptance.

The three were in a great mood as they arrived at the Satellite Inn. The dilapidated hotel was the central hub for three dozen bars and numerous eateries, all within walking distance, and security guards patrolled the walled-in parking lot.

“I’d like the best room in the house, please,” Guns told the old clerk at the reception counter, slurring slightly.

“That would be the Phoenix Room,” the man replied. “It has three bedrooms, a central area and spa. Three thousand a night.” He stared at the two chiefs and then asked if their pet was housebroken.

“Gawd almighty, save me!” Guns barely kept from falling to the ground as he doubled over with laughter. Jimmy was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.

“As my companions seem too incapacitated to answer, I will have to vouch for myself, I guess. If anything is found in a potted plant, that would be his doing, not mine,” Short Blade calmly answered, nodding toward Guns. Guns fell over, unable to speak and barely able to breathe from laughing so hard.

“Damn! You talk! Where you from there, Shorty?” the old man asked in amazement.

“That’s Short Blade, if you please. I am the commander of the ship in orbit around your planet. These are the two escorts from your world assigned to show me a good time, or I will destroy this world. I will pay for our accommodations.” Short Blade tossed a heavy coin onto the desktop. “The intergalactic exchange rate for that is fifty thousand dollars. I will set up a tab for me and my entourage. If I were you, I’d find a coin collector, since Earth is not a popular attraction.” The old man stared at Short Blade a while longer and then picked up the coin. The face of the coin showed a rocket ship, and undecipherable symbols were etched on both sides. He slid the coin into his pocket.

“I’ll have this checked out. In the meantime, welcome to the Satellite Inn, uh, gentlemen. Would you like someone to take you to your room?”

“We should be fine. Three room passes, please. We will need no room service unless we call down for it.” Short Blade held out his paw and the old man passed down three key cards for the room.

“Come along, gentlemen,” Short Blade said, cupping his paws together twice for emphasis.

“Yes sir, Commander Short Blade,” the chiefs chorused, going along with the game.

“What did you give that guy, Short Blade?” Guns asked as they walked away.

“When I was with the old crew, the Libra, they had a tradition of carrying a coin as a member of the crew. I have a box of them and give them out as trinkets.” Each man sobered a little as they reached into their wallets to be sure they had their old unit coin from a different war from a long time ago that they referred to as a round metal object.

“Whew! We have arrived!” Jimmy looked about the suite. It was old and run-down, but still well-maintained and clean. He walked to the bar and pulled out a miniature bottle of tequila, then proceeded to pour three shots as he thought back to another war and another set of comrades.

“Absent comrades!” The three clinked their shot glasses and downed their drinks solemnly.

“It’s eighteen hundred. What’s say we take a nap and then head out at twenty hundred for dinner? And then we find some entertainment!” Guns suggested. The others concurred, and they all dragged their bags to their rooms.

Short Blade woke slightly early. He pulled out his uniform and found an iron to remove the wrinkles, then pinned his ribbons on it. His black shoes needed only a light wiping to make them shine.

Guns came out of his room refreshed and dressed like a cowboy. When he saw Short Blade bedecked in his uniform, he slipped back into his room and donned his own uniform without a wrinkle on it. Then he lightly knocked on Jimmy’s door. Jimmy opened the door, naked.

“Aw, geez, man! Put some clothes on! I was hungry until you opened the door,” Guns teased.

Jimmy laughed and took note of the way Guns was dressed. He went back into his room, lightly splashed himself with cologne, and put on his uniform. As he joined the others, he said, “Let’s eat! I know just the place, and it’s in walking distance.”

Guns took a look at the rows of ribbons on Jimmy’s chest. He recognized the Distinguished Service Cross with devices on it, and the Silver Star, as well as the Purple Heart with four devices. He stopped reading Jimmy’s chest, impressed.

“I caught you, man! You were checking out my rack! Okay, let’s see yours.” Jimmy looked at Guns’s ribbons. “Aw, shit. You got the same crap as me, in the navy version. Okay, hero. Let’s go eat.”

Observing the little ceremony between the two ancient warriors, Short Blade felt very young.

The red paint on the outside of the restaurant was faded and chipped, the awnings torn and bleached from the sun. Inside, the place was dark and the furnishings had seen better days.

Jimmy told the host who he was, and they were led to a side room. When the curtain was pulled back, Short Blade and Guns were surprised to see all the members of the Dart Flight. None of the other ships’ officers had been able to come.

“Yeah! Our heroes!” Applause erupted for the team that had kept the ship flying. The tables, now filled with empty bottles, had been pushed together. Several of the pilots noticed the racks on the old chiefs as more rounds of drinks were ordered.

“Why did you invite the kids?” Guns whispered to Jimmy.

“Hell, we won’t pay a penny tonight with these kids here.” Jimmy whispered back.

“Damn … I never saw more beautiful lieutenants in my life!” Guns said as his eyes settled on the four women of the flight. They had decided to put in an appearance before going out and getting wild. All were showing plenty of leg and inviting cleavage, and the chiefs had a hard time not gawking.

As Matt Andrews surveyed the group, he realized that he was senior ranking and would be the one who would catch flak for any trouble that might take place. He realized almost as quickly that it would happen no matter what he did, so he stood up.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we few, we know what we have done and the cost.” He raised his glass and waited for the others to get filled glasses. “To the Beater, her crew, and victory!” The group all downed their drinks.

“Victory! Victory! Victory!” Thomas “Tiny” Shaw chanted as he slammed his right foot down in rhythm to the chant. The entire group picked up the chant. The owner came in and apologetically asked that they either quiet down or leave.

The group stood as one and went outside. Guns made a decision at that point.

“Sweep! Sweep! We got a dozen bars and a room all in walking distance. Sweep, unless yer a pussy!” His face turned red when he realized what he’d said in the present company.

“Ain’t no pussies here, Chief. You lead the sweep!” Suzy Hagen hollered out, and the group was on the move.

Jimmy led them to a place a couple of blocks away, and as he walked up to the front door, he said, “Here we are. This used to be my home away from home. Welcome to the Cowboy Bar.” Just inside the door he pushed aside a heavy curtain and caught sight of twenty or thirty men slow dancing as a semi-naked male dancer did a bump-and-grind on stage. Jimmy stopped cold and then pressed backwards toward the door as the others turned around to avoid him stepping on them.

“What’s the matter, Chief?” Guns asked innocently.

“Under new management. Let’s just move on.”

“That place sounds like fun!” Matilda squealed as she ran for the club across the street, where electronic music resonated through the walls.

Stepping inside, Matilda shouted, “This is it!” She grabbed her sister Mary’s hand. They tossed their purses to Jimmy and headed for the dance floor. Embarrassed, Jimmy led the group to a huge corner booth that had just opened up. As they piled in, a group of college students objected.

“Hey, Gramps,” one of the students piped up. “We’ve been waiting all night for that booth to open. Why don’t you all find another spot, before I become unhappy?” Jimmy looked over at Guns, who just closed his eyes slightly in acknowledgment.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest motherfucker in the goddamn valley,” Jimmy responded, smiling broadly at the confused looks from the kids before him.

“That some type of prayer, old man?” The kid got into Jimmy’s face, waiting for an answer.

“Son, there is no excuse for poor dental hygiene. Besides the risk of losing your teeth, you have bad breath. Now move along,” Jimmy said as he turned away. The kid’s face went red at the insult, and he prepared to insult the old man back.

“Hey! I know this song!” Suzy hollered.

“May I have the privilege of this dance?” Jimmy shouted back to her. Turning around and seeing the young tough still there, he said, “Sorry, kid, I want to dance, and not with you.” He dealt a quick chop to the young tough’s throat, and the boy went down hard. Stunned, the other kids just stared. “Pick your bitch there up off the floor and find another club. I own this one now,” Jimmy advised them. Indecision was still evident on their faces as Suzy got up from the booth.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, boys. Those ribbons on his chest are for killing people,” she said, smiling sweetly as she guided Jimmy to the floor, where they joined Mary and Matilda.

The young toughs looked at Guns, debating whether to try and take the table as they picked up their friend from the floor.

Guns stood and went nose to nose with the next tough.

“What are you still doing here, boy? Get the hell out of my zone before I get pissed. You don’t want to see me pissed.”

“Fuc—.” The tough didn’t see the roundhouse until it connected with his nose, and he went down, unconscious.

“Next? Now pick that trash up and get the fuck out of my zone.” The kids left as Guns sat back down.