Jethro: First to Fight (61 page)

“Dower?” Deja asked, looking at the
females.

“Yes. It would however be in the best
interests of all concerned for her to breed outside the tribe. We have become
too enclosed, that is not good for the blood,” the female said, eying him.
“Perhaps your arrival was quite fortuitous. It would have been much better had
you arrived during the breeding season though. A pity you couldn't have
arranged that.”

“I... um, see,” Deja said, feeling a
little light headed. Kirima looked away, clearly embarrassed.

“The males sometimes fight for the right
to the females, which further complicates things.”

“I see.”

“I have spoken with Yoskolo. He is the
big fat fool you met yesterday. He will not interfere with you. And the females
wish for you to spread your seed far and wide. We must open our bloodlines if
we are to survive.”

“Ma'am...” Deja said, feeling a bit put
out.

“Oh, not to worry little one,” she
teased wickedly. “We speak of the future. And you'd need consent of your senior
wife Kirima of course. But we can get to the details later...”

Deja closed his eyes. Somehow, suddenly
his life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated. But wasn't that the way
when females got involved?

...*...*...*...*...

Half way through his second day the
shuttle landed nearby. He and the pups watched it land. He was amused by their
show of intent interest and bravery.

“There goes the neighborhood,” Yoskolo
grumbled. “We might as well draw a map and lay out a sign.”

“Oh hush,” Koko scolded.

...*...*...*...*...

Deja spent the next evening in the
company of Koko and Kirima. Kirima told him softly of the tribe as she worked
on repairing the nets. When it became apparent that he was useless helping her,
she'd smiled politely at his antics but firmly taken the net away from him,
he'd gone out and come back with an improvised sled loaded with fire wood. He'd
built a fire on the shore, a rare treat for the Selkie.

Some still sported in the water, about
half the tribe had just returned from fishing though and were quite exhausted.

A few of the pups and their mothers came
to be closer to the crackling fire. They were memorized by the flames. “So,
white sharks, I know I've run into a couple at Parris Island, but what else?”

“Polar bears. Neo polar bears are rare.
But they too can and do eat us. Anything on the shore seems to feed on us in
tight times. Wolves, Neowolves, and sometimes humans,” Kirima said darkly. She
looked at the Neowolf Marines. They flicked their ears at her but remained
silent. They had hunted earlier in the day, and had brought back caribou to the
tribe. The meat was a rare treat for the tribe, usually they only got red meat
from carrion that died near the shore.

“That's terrible!” he said.

She nodded. “It is ever the way, eat or
be eaten. The circle of life.”

“Yeah well, it's still not right.
Sapient's shouldn't feed on each other.”

“But you said the Horathians do?”

“They don't eat people. They do kill
them though. And yeah, they do terrible things to them. Sometimes they keep you
alive. As a slave,” he said darkly, looking away.

He felt a hand flipper touch his. He
looked down at it and stroked it gently.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“I was young. Just in the space lanes.
They took our ship. There was nothing we could do. I was the senior navigator.
They kept me alive because I am a Selkie, because I was so good and they had
few navigators. But they hated me.” He sighed, shivering slightly. “Oh how they
tortured me!”

“I'm sorry.”

“I... survived. Others didn't.”

“What happened?” Kirima asked.
“Obviously you are free.”

“Yes,” Deja said. Slowly he related the
story of the attack on Agnosta, then Pyrax. He explained about the admiral, and
the great space battle that had taken place. “Some of us died, but better to die
in that then to live another day as a slave.”

“I see.”

“I signed up. Oh, they wanted me to be a
navigator again. I was tempted, but I wanted... revenge. Some of my own back.
And I... had an aversion to flying a ship. It was horrible, painful. Dry, so
dry! No water at all!”

“I couldn't live without water!” Kirima
said, expressive eyes boring into his soul. “You must have been incredibly
strong to have lived through that!”

“I did what I had to do. I survived. Now
I'm a Marine. A pilot. I fly shuttles, I fight when needed.”

“I see. So you will go back?”

“I have to. I have my orders. I have to
leave tomorrow Kirima. I'm sorry, but I do.”

“I'm sorry too,” she said softly,
looking away to the fire.

“I can come back on my next leave,” Deja
said, stroking her hand.

“I'd like that.”

There was a long silence as they drank
in the warmth of the fire.  Finally he broke it.

She giggled, wiggling her whiskers. She
leaned into him, nuzzling him. He nuzzled back.

“I like this,” she murmured.

“I like being with you, but I've got a
rock digging into my butt,” Deja grumbled. That got another giggle. He lifted
the offending cheek, fished the rock out and then pitched it into the dark
water. It skipped once then sank into the waves.

“You were saying, about things here?
Just sharks hunt our people?” Deja asked. “In the water I mean.”

“The white death. They strike from
below. If ever you survive an attack, stay on them, stay away from the teeth
and stay on them,” Kirima  said.

“I'll try to remember that.

“There is another,” a male said. He
nodded to Deja as he took a seat on the other side of the fire. Kirima seemed
annoyed by the interruption but didn't say anything.

“Another killer?” Deja asked, trying to
think of Terran predators. Could it be something else?

“Orca,” the young male said simply.

“Orca,” Deja echoed. Kirima snorted and
got up. She moved off with the net. She stretched it out and looked it over. He
watched her for a long moment.

“Orca, they live?” he asked. “Killer
whales?”

“Yes. Black and white they are. Big,
bigger than us. No arms, but flippers, fluked tails. They swim fast. They make
clicking sounds that tear at your stomach. If you are close it sends shivers up
your spine. The call too, the hunting call. I have heard it, but few have ever
survived seeing them.”

“Interesting,” Deja murmured. His
implants clamored for more information, apparently Orca were very important. He
did a quick search and scowled even darker. They were dolphins, a species
thought extinct, hunted down by the Xenos. Incredibly gifted hyper navigators,
but flighty sometimes.

From the sound of it, the killer whales
were unmodified, and only a handful of the Selkie have survived an encounter to
bring back word to the tribe. Some had seen the tell tale dorsal fins while
ashore, the massive black and white bodies coming up to blast water spray while
breathing, then diving once more.

“How did you survive?” Deja asked a
young male.

“Either they weren't hungry in my
ancestor's case...”

“Or in my grandam's case she managed to
get out of the water in time,” another Selkie told him. They explained to him
about how the Orca can be brutal ruthless hunters. They trapped seals and
Selkie on ice flows and then use waves to wash the helpless prey into the water
so they could be thrown around and then devoured. “It's not really cruel to
them, they throw the seal or Selkie to thrash them, to break the body up so
they can eat it easier,” an old woman said. “We do the same with some of the
hardier fish. Or we take it on shore and beat it against a rock,” she said, sharpening
a knife with a leather strop. He shivered at that thought.

“They can also rush the beaches so it's
best to pull back. That's why we're well above the high tide line,” a young
Selkie informed him. They shivered.

“You'd think the white death was scary.
You are wrong. The white death will rush you from below and it's over. The Orca
are smart. They work as a
team
. They will come after you if you beach,
and if you go on an ice flow they will find a way to wash you off. If you see
the black and white get out of the water.
Far
out of the water. And stay
there until they are long gone.”

At dusk the team was ordered to return
to the shuttle. “It's going to be dark. Twenty four hours of dark,” a wolf
murmured.

“It's been dark before,” Deja replied.
“They've gotten through it. They'll get through this too. They are survivors,”
he said.

The wolves looked at him with some
interest. He saw the looks over his shoulder but turned his attention to his
duties as copilot.

“At least you know you're not alone
anymore,” the pilot said aside to him.

“True. But I'll be damned if I'd live
like that. Hell with that.”

“Agreed,” the pilot said with a nod.
“I'll take flying any time over grubbing in the dirt and ice, wondering if a
polar bear is going to think of me as a nice snack.”

“Naw, you'd get stuck in their teeth.
All bone and gristle.”

“Gee thanks,” the pilot replied with a
soft chuckle.

...*...*...*...*...

First Marine and navy leave on Agnosta.
No boots, just veteran troops. Before the jarheads and squids had been limited
to taking leave on the base. With its limited civilian facilities there wasn't
much to do except unwind. That was changing, the Major had recently opened up
to taverns and civilian businesses on the base, but they had yet to open.

Pressure had mounted to let the men and
women go to the mainland to unwind and see the sights. The Major had resisted
the impulse to just let them go until he was certain he had sufficiently
trained MP's to handle any issues as shore patrol.

The first Friday the enlisted had
practically stormed the gates of the space port and harbor to get off the base.
“It's nothing personal sir, but hell, I've been cooped up long enough!” A
Marine said in passing, throwing a quick salute the Major before he dropped
into a flat out run to catch up with the crowd.

The Major shook his head, laughing. They
didn't have far to go, or many locations. The first leave would be in the New
Landing Spaceport or the harbors along the coast line. Fishing ships lined up
the harbors to transport the Marines to the shore, all for a fee. One group was
already working on a ferry business, converting from the catch as catch can
fishing business to the higher paying ferry.

Most of the Marines stormed the towns
whooping and hollering and hitting the various bars to unwind. Major Forth had
taken the precaution of warning the mayors of such behavior. The mayors had
taken the warning in stride, but they had been more focused on the credits the
soldiers would be spending in the towns when they were there for the three
days.

Businesses sprang up overnight,
including plays and food venues out of homes and out in the open. Of course one
of the oldest professions was in full force, though only quietly advertised.

Marines had been strictly warned to
watch their P's and Q's. Any behavioral infraction would be landed on full
force by first the natives, and then the Major with a mast or court martial.
They kept to groups and tried to watch each other's backs.

Of course the Major knew it was like
holding back the tide, Marines would be Marines, bar fights and other issues
would crop up. But that was why he'd sent in the shore patrol to keep things
from getting too rowdy and out of control.

Kovu was on guard duty first night. He
knew better than to resent the restriction, he knew he'd earned it. Besides, it
wasn't as much fun to go on leave without Kiara. Maybe with the rest of the
squad, but most had stuck to the base to rack out for some reason. He hadn't
caught on that they were catching up on day to day chores to make it easier for
themselves when they returned. They were also enjoying the peace and quiet,
since the bay was empty. The lion's behavior had improved, Valenko lifted the
bar and allowed him to participate the second night with the squad.

Sergei had found a rather garish
Hawaiian shirt to wear, it was open in the front but truly eye searing. Fonz
wore shorts and his leather jacket. Asazi wore a tank top and shorts, but she
kept a jean jacket handy. She wore sunglasses like Fonz. Fonz stuck to her side
like glue. 

Military Police, commonly known as shore
patrol when the Marines were off base, were kept busy. MP canines and others
were on shore patrol. Sergeant Shep eyed Valenko's squad but they put their
hands up, all on their best behavior. The Neo German Sheppard snorted and waved
them on their way. They filed into a half full bar, followed by the MP's.

Of course most of the Marines were in
civvies, so there was no rank. Their IFF's told each other who was who, so they
were deferential to officers once they realized who they were. That didn't stop
a few from messing with drunken officers, but most officers kept their decorum.
They all quieted when the shore patrol showed up. Jethro felt a little
conspicuous, like a mouse under the eye of a circling hawk.