Gray Panthers Captain Short Blade (3 page)

The Phoenix, orbiting planet Zia

5 April 2129

“Phoenix, do you detect anyone on sensors?

“Sir, no ships from either the Fire fleet or the Republic are nearby. The Republic still considers this a protectorate plane even though it’s in League of Planets space.”

“Have you been able to contact any Zians?”

“There has been no reply to our hails.”

Just have to do this cold, I guess,
Short Blade thought. “Okay, let’s take her in. We’ll land on the pad they use for visiting ships. Keep actively scanning once we get down there. I don’t want to start a new war.”

The shuttle bounced around as it entered the atmosphere and then proceeded through a storm, but the inertial dampeners made the ride perfectly smooth and uneventful. When Short Blade opened the shuttle hatch, the wind whipped him in the face and rain began to pelt him.

“Sir, there’s movement on the road approximately half a mile away. A group of fifty is coming this way.”

Short Blade looked where he knew he should see them, but the road just appeared black in the night rain. Finally, when they were less than a hundred feet away, he saw the tiny torches of the Zians who were heading his way.

“Welcome back to Zia, Master Short Blade. How may we be of service to you?” one of them said when the group had stopped.

Taken aback that they remembered him, Short Blade decided to act quickly.

“I need to buy one hundred units as quickly as possible. The Republic doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Good. Then they won’t try to steal the gold you bring us. We’ll start bringing the Flem juice right away.” The one who spoke shouted to another, who turned and whipped his mount as he rode off in the direction from which they had come. Short Blade pulled out one hundred gold coins and set them in stacks on the ground. The Zians came and grabbed them by ones and twos. The twelve-inch-tall creatures reminded him of vermin.

Before long, tiny carts began to pull up to the shuttle, the largest able to hold ten ounces. “Here is your Flem juice, Master Short Blade.”

Short Blade was starting to thank the tiny Zians when he received the message.

“Sir, a Republic destroyer has just entered the sector. It will be here shortly if it picks us up on sensors.”

Short Blade shouted to the Zians to scatter as he climbed on board and shut the hatch.

“Phoenix, get us out of here now! As soon as we are out of the gravity well, jump us.” As Short Blade watched the monitor, the destroyer changed its course and headed toward the shuttle.  The Phoenix adjusted its course in response, putting the planet between them, and then headed straight away from the planet. The destroyer came back into view just as the shuttle engaged the FTL drive.

Peary Crater Lunar Base

5 April 2129

William “Guns” Wright sat across from Jimmy Brewster. Both were veterans of the Iran War. Jimmy was in his nineties and Guns in his eighties. Each had volunteered to join the Gray Panthers and had been rejuvenated with the nanite technology. They had the bodies and stamina of men in their twenties. With the Gray Panthers essentially mothballed, they found themselves on the moon providing minor maintenance wherever needed.

“I’m ready to say to hell with all this shit. I didn’t achieve the rank of first damn sergeant and then recycle myself in the Gray Panthers to chief just to find myself a goddamn janitor on the fucking moon!” Jimmy grumbled.

Guns nodded in agreement as he poured bourbon from his flask into Jimmy’s coffee cup. Jimmy let out a sigh as he picked up his coffee cup.

“Salute,” he said, clinking cups with Guns. “Looks like Scotty’s getting married to that little shuttle pilot he hooked up with on Dixie. The GPs are sending a ship for his friends and family. Let’s go have a good time and stay there. With our skills and knowledge, we should be able to get decent jobs.”

“Fine,” Guns replied. “Let’s go start life over again, only this time on an alien planet! How am I going to get my pickup there? Never mind—if we go, I want a hover cycle!”

The men were obviously intoxicated and were being quite loud. A pair of nearby security guards couldn’t help but overhear their discussion, and one of them started to walk over to ask them to tone it down. The other guard grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Joe, they don’t pay us enough for this shit. We go over there to quiet those two down and I guarantee you it’ll get ugly. Let ’em vent. They aren’t hurting anyone, and I want to keep it that way.”

“Okay, Jay. Let’s go check the docking area. Shift change in forty-five minutes, anyway.”

Guns walked Jimmy to a terminal, where they proceeded to coordinate their transportation to Dixie and convert all of their assets to gold coins. They’d be on the ship heading for the wedding the next day.

Teetering in front of his cabin door, Jimmy said, “Door open,” his words slurring. At last, on the third try, the door opened. Guns helped him stagger in and pushed him into his bunk. Jimmy was out cold.

“Damn lightweight army types never could hold their liquor like a navy man,” Guns muttered, smiling to himself. As he turned to leave, the room began to spin uncontrollably. His years of experience kicked in, and he was able to grab a chair and sit down before everything went black.

“Good morning, sunshine! Rise and shine. We have a ship to catch.”

Guns opened his eyes enough to see Jimmy standing over him with a mug of coffee.

“You navy types never could hold your booze, could you?” Jimmy said with a smirk.

Guns wished only evil thoughts upon his friend as he reached for the coffee. “How can you be so chipper first thing in the morning?” he groused after taking a sip.

“No work today. Couple of hours from now, we’ll be on our way to Dixie. New life, new adventure.” Jimmy hummed to himself as he pulled out his sea bags.

Guns rubbed his face and head, piecing together the conversation they’d had the night before. “I can’t believe two grown men are gonna just throw away everything and start over like this,” he finally said.

“Well, we do have the defense of being inebriated when we made the choice. But at this point it doesn’t really matter—we’ve committed ourselves to a new journey and tendered our resignations. Now take your coffee and get back to your room and pack. Couple of hours and we’re gone.”

Two hours later they were in line to board the Bia. The spaceship had started its life as the Queen Mary VI ocean liner but had been converted to a spaceship during the Libra War because of its size and potential as a troop hauler.

“This is either going to be one huge wedding, or Dixie is getting pretty popular,” Jimmy muttered as the long queue inched forward.

The two young men in line just ahead of them were holding hands as they talked and laughed. As the line continued to progress, the shorter one turned around and tried to strike up a conversation.

“Are you heading for Dixie for the free land too?” he asked, looking first at Jimmy and then at Guns.

“No, we’re mercenaries,” Guns said matter-of-factly. “Dixie’s having a civil war, and they’re paying top dollar for hired guns. They’re also drafting everyone who goes there for the free land.”

Others in the line overheard Guns’s remark and within minutes numerous arguments were underway. Soon the line had almost disappeared.

“Guns, sometimes you can be a real asshole,” Jimmy said with a sideways glance. “But I’m not complaining today.”

Because they were veterans of the Gray Panthers, each of the men was billeted to his own stateroom. They discovered that the Bia was still a fully functional warship, although a small section of the ship had been renovated to include accommodations for civilian passengers. Several clubs, a couple of restaurants, and a pool promised to make the trip an enjoyable one.

The Phoenix, en route to Dixie

6 April 2129

Short Blade was beginning to feel the walls closing in on him, and there were still almost four days of FTL travel before he reached Dixie. The fact that he was going to yet another planet where he would not be welcomed didn’t help. The urge to hit the milk was strong, but memories of the drunken Libra draftees he had once worked with kept him away from the bottle. They had sometimes spent days totally intoxicated while on duty.

Looking toward the future, he still didn’t have a plan to meet with any Dixie officials. He wasn’t sure how much to offer in trade for the AIs, though he did know what he was going to ask for the AIs once he had them. He was going to demand a monopoly on all milk products. He’d be set for life. He began to feel better as he imagined being rich.

More immediately, once he arrived on Dixie he would need to find suitable material to uniform his warriors. He wanted to make sure it was obvious to everyone that they were his and not part of a clan. He decided he’d go to a sports store to get the material, so they would look like they were ready for the field instead of a parade. With that settled, he still needed to figure out a wedding gift for his old friend.

The Bia, orbiting Dixie

10 April 2129

Guns and Jimmy watched in amazement the variety of people waiting for shuttles to depart the Bia. Honeymooners. Those who came to see another world. Veterans showing their families what they did during the war. The most interesting were the missionaries who were ready to spread the word, not realizing that the main religions of the old South were alive and well in Dixie.

“You two, come on up here,” a Dixie shuttle pilot ordered, pointing to Guns and Jimmy.

“Hop on in, guys. Welcome to Dixie. We keep an eye out for veterans and put them at the front of the lines. We remember.” Others in the line expressed their unhappiness at the preferential treatment.

“See, Jimmy, I told you to wear your uniform.”

Both men smiled and thanked the shuttle pilot as they strapped themselves into their seats.

“Stay away from the new hotels on the west side of town. If you go to the old part on the east side, they give discounts to vets. West side is all tourist crap,” the pilot advised.

The shuttle ride was different from being on a Gray Panthers shuttle. The limited inertial dampeners didn’t restrict the sensation caused by the G’s the pilot pulled as she played follow the leader with the shuttle ahead of her. Jimmy and Guns shouted encouragement to the pilot, ignoring the white-knuckled passengers who were looking for bags to get sick in.

The bag drag to customs was yet another source of entertainment. While waiting their turn, the two vets couldn’t help but laugh at the antics of those who were processing through.

“No one told me you were going to look through my bags!” a middle-aged man protested as his bags were opened, revealing lingerie and sex toys. The inspectors ignored his complaints and handed him back his luggage.

“Reason for your visit, sir?” the inspector asked Jimmy, giving him a once-over as he waited for an answer.

“We’re both here for Ambassador Scholl’s wedding. We served together during the war.”

The inspector glanced at Guns and then back at Jimmy, and then motioned for them to proceed without looking in their bags.

Walking out of the spaceport, the men gazed at the string of cabs waiting out in front. The one they chose was the size of a minivan. The interior smelled of disinfectant and the driver’s cheap cologne.

“Where can I take you gentlemen today?” the driver asked, already sizing them up.

“Take us to the east side. I can’t remember the name of the hotel. We don’t need the long way there, either,” Guns replied.

The driver gave them another look and turned his attention to the drive ahead.
There’ll be other Earthers I can screw over,
he told himself. The drive through the city was unremarkable, the scenery looking like that in virtually any city they’d been to before.

“Here you are, gentlemen. The Capitol House is one of the nicer hotels, with reasonable rates. I wouldn’t screw a fellow veteran.”

The fare was a problem neither of the men had anticipated. They had gold coins and greenbacks, but no local currency. Jimmy pulled out his multi-tool and made the cabbie an offer.

“How about I trade you my tool here for the ride and one hundred dollars? Be the only one on the planet with one.”

The driver opened the blades and didn’t seem impressed.

“I’ll give you twenty-five for it.”

“Make it fifty and we have a deal,” Jimmy said, starting to appear agitated.

“Okay, ride and fifty!” The driver tried to look pissed off as he played with the main blade.

“Wasn’t that a little expensive for a ride, Jimmy?” Guns asked as the driver pulled away.

Jimmy opened his bag and pulled out an identical multi-tool. “Not when they’re cheap generic crap from China. Remember, always have trinkets for the natives. Now let’s get a room and figure out where we need to go tomorrow.”

Paying for the room was easier than they had thought it would be. The desk clerk explained that credit cards used on Earth were accepted on Dixie, since a First Gray Panthers Bank had opened there awhile back.

When Guns mentioned that they were there for Ambassador Scholl’s wedding, the desk clerk said complimentary transportation to the event was available through the hotel, adding that the wedding was considered the biggest social event of the year.