The two humans off to the other side were new faces. A man and woman who, if their clasped hands and sharing the same last name meant anything, had known each other before coming here.
And then there were the six Draeken standing proudly in the center of the room. He knew Qan and Gix to be good, solid soldiers, and Elc was a quick learner. But
Christ
. How the hell was he going to get this crew of races who hated each other to overcome their divided loyalties and work together?
He opened his mouth to say “fall in,” but quickly realized that they wouldn’t understand. He’d have to start at a level below baseline. “Listen up, team, It’s time for my first-day spiel. I’ll only say it once so you better listen,” Jax said, cutting over all the voices, as he strolled into the room.
The gold-skinned Sephians and dark-haired humans moved in closer, still keeping a noticeable distance from their winged teammates who had their arms crossed over their chests.
“As you know, everyone on the
Striga
has been assigned a team in addition to whatever job you’ve been assigned. It’s not a bad deal in exchange for safe room and board. You work five solid hours per day on your job and two hours per day with me. That leaves seventeen hours to do whatever the hell you want. That means for those two hours you’re mine. You will do what I say, no questions asked.”
“Don’t you mean an hour and a half?” someone said.
Jax eyed the older Draeken who spoke. “What’s your name?”
He looked down his nose at Jax. “Hert Hesmat, and I was here on time.”
Jax’s lips curled. “Your bio says you were a successful businessman before coming here.”
Hert held his head higher. “I was the most renowned clothier on the Golran coast.”
“That’s nice,” Jax said drily. “If I tear my fatigues in battle, you can sew them up.”
Hert stiffened. “I had slaves who sewed. I’m a
designer.
” He said the last bit while dramatically touching his chest.
Jax glanced at Sana and Tanel. Both Sephians looked like they were ready to tear Hert apart.
“Listen because I don’t like to repeat myself,” Jax said. “Like it or not, we’re in this together. What you did before doesn’t mean shit. What you do from this moment forward is all that matters. If you were a screw-up before, then here’s your chance to start fresh. If you were a hotshot success story, here’s your chance to prove that wasn’t a fluke.
“We’re safe from the toxin and from attacks while we’re on the
Striga
, but we’re not going to live out the rest of our lives on it. At some point, we’re going to have to leave the safety of this ship to set up permanent homes outside. And when we do that, it’s a few thousand of us against a world that may not want us here. We need to count on each other or else we’re fucked.”
“But we’re not leaving while the toxin’s out there, right?”
Jax turned to the only other human man in the room. “They’re working on an antitoxin, but it could take some time. The toxin hasn’t made it to American soil yet, so it may never be a risk.”
The man nervously wrapped an arm around his wife. “But what if it spreads?”
“The plan is that we stay on the
Striga
until it’s safe. Any other questions?”
Silence.
“All right, then,” Jax said, reading over his wrist-com. “Let’s get the housekeeping out of the way. I’m Captain Jax Jerrick. U.S. Army Rangers, fifty-first division. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a human, and it’s my job to turn you all into a team. Now let’s go down the roster … Sana, Qan, Gix,” he said, looking from the Sephian woman, then to the Draeken man and woman. “You all have solid military experience, and I’ll count on you to help train. Tanel, you’re in charge of communications. I know you have Sephian and Draeken technology down. Get up to speed on human technology if you haven’t already.”
“Yes, Captain,” the slender Sephian replied quickly.
“Let’s see,” Jax continued, looking up to inspect the rest of his team. “Starting with you … ” he pointed at the humans to his left. “Tell me your names and your skill.”
The man spoke first. “I’m Scott Edmonds, but you can call me Grease. I drove trucks and was a diesel mechanic before that, and they have me learning the engines on the aggressors now. I’m good with engines.”
Jax nodded. Mechanical ability was a valuable skillset to have on his team. “Whatever vehicles we get assigned, no matter what they are, it’s your job to keep them running. Understand?”
The man nodded. “I can do that.” Grease turned to the woman at his side. “And here’s my wife, Jeannie. She’s — ”
“ — Going to speak for herself,” Jax interrupted.
The petite redhead gave a sheepish smile. “Hi, everyone. I’m Jeannie.” She waved at the others on the team. “I’m a senior at ISU, a Poli Sci major. Grease and I came on board last night, so everything’s still really new. As soon as we heard what the government was doing to you, we hurried down here. We want to help in any way we can. I’ve been assigned to work in Supply.”
She spoke with enough passion that Jax couldn’t help but feel a prickle of pride in his recruits, even though they were as green as they come. At least they had potential. “And you’ll do the same for the team. You need to get up to speed on gear, weapons, and ammo. Got it?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t know anything about guns.”
“You’ll learn,” Jax said before turning to the Draeken standing nearest to Jeannie.
The thin man’s wings nervously flicked. “I’m, uh, Nurn, and I was an office administrator. I guess I’m pretty good at organizing things.”
“Good,” Jax said. “You’re in charge of scheduling our training times around everyone’s work schedules.”
He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, I can do that, yes.”
The youth next to Nurn was the same height but where Nurn was all lankiness, this kid was lean and strong. “I’m Grept,” the young man said. “And I didn’t have a job. But I was a messenger on the trip here. And I played sports.”
“How old are you, Grept?”
The kid stiffened. “Old enough.”
Jax raised a brow. “How old, son?”
Grept stood defiant. “Nearly sixteen in human years.”
Sixteen? Too damn young.
The kid should be in school, not preparing for war. But according to the kid’s bio, he had no family left. He probably knew more about war than Jax. “So you were a messenger. You fast, Kid?”
“Fast as the wind, Captain. Both on the ground and in the air.”
Jax smiled. “We’ll be able to use you.” He turned to the next man in line.
“You know me already. I’ve done a bit of everything,” Elc said, but then turned to the human pair. “I’m Elc, by the way. Welcome aboard. It’s good to see that not all humans hate us.”
“It’s good to have you on team, Elc,” Jax said, and meant it. The Draeken was a literal jack-of-all-trades. If they needed something, he had no doubt Elc would get it for them. There was a reason Roden kept him as a gopher.
When Jax turned to the older businessman, he eyed him for a moment. “Hert,” he said. “You say you’re good at designing things. That true?”
“I’m the best,” the Draeken with long whitish-silver hair replied.
Jax grinned. “Our team needs an insignia. Something that isn’t Draeken, or Sephian, or human, but yet encompasses all three. You up for the challenge?”
Light twinkled in the man’s eyes, and he managed to stand even taller still. “We will have the finest insignia of all teams.”
“That covers it,” Jax said. “Each one of you brings something to the table. We’re going to use that to build some semblance of a team.” Jax realized that his team was much more than individuals from three different races coming together. His team was a microcosm of the new Earth. Human, Draeken, Sephian … at some point those labels would no longer apply. Their common cause would unite all three as one new Earth race.
Several of his team looked past his shoulder. Jax turned to locate the distraction, and found Roden standing in the doorway. Jax headed toward the newcomer, commanding over his shoulder, “We have one hour left. We’ll start on basic self-defense. Sana, you take Nurn, Hert, and Elc. Qan, you got Jeannie and the Kid. Gix, you get Grease and Tanel. See you tomorrow.”
Draeken and Sephians alike had looks of unpleasant surprise.
Jax cocked his head. “Anything wrong? ‘Cause if you thought that I’d allow segregation in this team, then you’re dumb as shit.”
“You have such eloquence to your leadership style,” Roden mused.
“What do you want?”
Roden inhaled and then frowned. “
Fyet
. You’ve been drinking.
Bolgt,
no less.”
Jax ignored the comment, looking back to see his recruits busy in training.
“I have a mission for you,” Roden said.
“They’re not ready yet.”
“Pick your two best. I need you to ex-filtrate an ally. He sent word that it’s no longer safe for him. And he requested you by name.”
“Damn it, Roden. Send some other lackey.”
“It’s your father.”
Jax stopped cold. He knew his dad disagreed with the orders coming down from the General of the Army, but to defect? What else had happened? Jax turned to his team. “Sana, Qan, you’re with me. Gix, take over the training.”
“I’m impressed at how well you function as a drunk,” Roden said quietly from Jax’s side. “You must have experience.”
Jax flipped him the bird.
Scowling, Roden walked over to the service station and hit several buttons. He returned with a small cup of thick dark liquid and held it out to Jax. “Drink this.”
“What is that?” he asked, eying the inky drink.
“It’ll sober you up for this mission.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you don’t drink this, I’ll send Talla to pick up your father. It could be dangerous.”
“Blackmailing son of a bitch.” Jax snatched the glass. He downed the contents and coughed. He glared at Roden, his eyes watering. “God, that shit is awful.”
“Give it a second. It gets worse.”
Right then, Jax’s stomach cramped and Jax nearly doubled over. Cold fire shot through his veins and doused his brain, leaving no traces of liquored bliss in its wake. Only hard reality remained.
Roden took the glass back just as Sana and Qan joined their side. “We have a sortie to make,” Jax said.
“Grab whatever you need from Supply,” Roden said. “I’ve already reserved an aggressor for you in hangar fourteen. I’m having the logistics sent directly to your wrist-coms within a few minutes.” With that, Roden left the room.
“I can fly an aggressor,” Qan offered.
“Good,” Jax said with a nod. “Then we don’t need to pull anyone else. Get the ship ready. Sana and I will grab gear for you.”
Qan took to the air down the opposite hallway Sana and Jax headed. They didn’t speak all the way to Supply, not even after they picked up their weapons and gear. They were nearly to the aggressor when Jax asked, “You cool working with Qan?”
“I have to be, don’t I,” she replied.
“You chose to stay behind with the Draeken rather than returning to Sephia. Why?”
“I don’t trust them.” Her response was simple and honest.
He grabbed her shoulders. “I need to know that you have Qan’s back. I already know he’ll have yours. You’re good, Sana, but I can’t have you on my team if I can’t trust you.”
She frowned slightly, but her face quickly returned to be devoid of emotion. “You can count on me.”
“Good.” Because if his dad needed help, then this was no easy grab-and-go mission. The only thing that he had going for him was the knowledge that Talla would be safe on the
Striga
.
Heavy storms attacked the Midwest just before noon. Yesterday’s clear skies and warm breeze were swallowed by ominous clouds spitting hail and roaring thunder.
Talla watched the Etzee get pounded on the wall screen. The winds battered the new tents spread out over the remains of the camp. The troops had bulldozed everything after the attack. Trailers, debris, and bodies. It hadn’t mattered. They’d leveled the place, leaving no protection for newcomers against the weather.
By the time the military set up roadblocks around the Etzee, hundreds of people had made it into the restricted zone. And the military, rather than garner negative press by rounding up the protestors, allowed the humans to remain.
Humans in plastic ponchos and rain jackets shoved against the barricades. They’d given up holding signs. The wind simply blew them away, and the rain melted the messages. Now, they used their bodies to make their point. They shook their fists at the soldiers on the other side. While the screen had no sound, Talla could imagine their shouting waged a battle with the torrential rain and thunder.
There had to be thousands of protestors now. Mostly Americans, but some Canadians and Mexicans, who’d come to boycott the military’s treatment of the Draeken and Sephians. Their selfless actions gave Talla hope that her people could live on this world side by side with the humans.
The violence of the storm seemed to infuse the protestors with strength. They surged and pressed against the barricades, causing the fence to bow and stretch. The individuals became a group, and they found a rhythm. As one, they pushed forward, stepped back, and pushed again. The metal stretched beyond what Talla thought it could. The troops on the other side looked jittery, raising their rifles and yelling back at the mob.
Lightning flashed across the sky, and the protestors pushed forward once again. This time, the barricade collapsed just as another bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. Talla’s eyes grew wide. It was as though the humans’ god had helped them. The mob spilled over the fallen barricades and spread out. The first soldier disappeared in the crowd. Pulsating light flickered from the barrel of another soldier’s rifle.
Talla gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. “No! They’re unarmed!” Her shout attracted attention in the hallway, and others stopped to take in the scene. The crowd scattered in every direction, crushing one another as they sought to escape the gunfire. Tiny lights flashed off more rifles.
“We can’t leave them to die. They’ll get slaughtered,” the petite human redhead at her side said.