“We must, of course, do what we can for our Clan Leader,” Michelle said. “However, the fact that I was not informed of any of this has large implications. A Sohon must constantly tread a fine line. Without knowing the potential stumbling blocks in the way, it is difficult to do so. I must meet with the other human Sohon and determine if it is only I who was left in ignorance. Given the political mess you created that is possible.”
“I was sort of hoping that you could use your magic god powers to save his ass,” Cally hissed, leaning forward. “Hello! Father! Clan Leader? Not to mention a few thousand other humans? Tens of thousands?”
“Oh, you are so impatient,” Michelle replied, disparagingly. She gave a slight shake of her head then closed her eyes. “The orders are not to have the fleet lost in hyperspace.”
“Oh, thank God,” Cally said. “You’re sure?”
“I did not say that you would like the orders,” Michelle said, opening her eyes. “Because you won’t. And worse. Even with my powers, we’re too late.”
“Nice job, General.”
The camp had taken only a day to emplace despite the fact that they’d only done it a couple of times. It helped that the tents were memory plastic.
But in a day there were thermally pressed streets, living tents, mess tents, supply, maintenance, all the things that made for a functioning small city. And a wall. Mike made it a habit to put in a berm whenever they were in place for more than a day. With a Corps of ACS and shovels that were tough enough it was a bit easier than with an equal number of engineers and bulldozers. Before the gates flapped the shot-torn banner of the Corps, a boar on a red field and the slogan “Disce Pati”.
The 11th Corps was settling in for a rest with all the trimmings. Not a long one but it was nice to feel wind on your face and get that damned armor off on a planet.
Some of the troops were wandering those streets, visiting friends from other companies and battalions, headed to the chapel, headed to the rec rooms and mess halls. But not many. Mike would guess that most of them were racked out. Later he’d have to figure out something to keep them occupied but for now they were content to just rest, all but the very few — no more than a short company — still suited up to guard the perimeter on the off chance of a Posleen feral showing up.
It was a sham, of course. Until they figured out a way to get back to Earth, safely, this was home. Which was why he’d had all the rations from the ships shuttled down.
“We’ve got supplies for about ninety days,” General Corval said. “So we should be good for a six week R R. I’ve already placed thirty percent on complete standdown. We’ll rotate that week by week.”
“Works,” Mike said. There were some of the Corps on security around the camp. It was unlikely there would be an attack by the locals. They’d made contact with the other two tribes in the area and negotiated a cease-fire in their low-grade fights. With the Posleen wiped away from the low-lands the tribes were mostly squabbling over who got what territory, anyway. It was a time to talk, not fight.
“We’ll need to get a training schedule in place,” Mike said. “When they get rested, given that the recreation is going to be pretty damned limited here, we’re going to have to keep them occupied or… ”
“Incoming message from Admiral Suntoro,” Shelly said.
“Crap,” Mike muttered. “Any idea what he wants?”
“No.”
Monosyllables again. Not a good sign.
“Put him on.”
“General O’Neal,” the Admiral said, appearing as a hologram in front of the two officers. “I need to meet with you and your staff. Immediately.”
“Gosh, Admiral, that’s going to be hard,” Mike replied. “We’re kinda busy right now.”
“I am in receipt of some orders that I think we need to discuss in person,” the Admiral replied. “I am willing to meet with you on the surface if you don’t have time to shuttle up to the ship.”
Mike raised an eyebrow at that and shrugged.
“Sure, Admiral,” he said, smiling tightly. “I take it you don’t want to meet at the camp?”
“The quieter we keep this the better,” the Admiral replied. “It looks as if you were right.”
“I’ll lay out an LZ,” Mike said. “When?”
“One hour?”
“Works. O’Neal out.”
He looked at Corval and smiled thinly again.
“I think the Admiral’s running scared. How say you?”
“I think we’d better wear armor.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Julio wasn’t wandering the camp. He was off duty and had obtained permission to “liaison with the locals.”
At present that consisted of accompanying Urnhat up a steep slope. The General had hinted that he wanted a place to put some caches of gear and the Nor knew all the caves in the area. According to the Nor Queen or whatever there was an extensive series in this area of the valley. Not as big as where the Nor had hid from the Posleen, but big enough to put some gear.
Despite the fact that he was on a semi-official mission, he’d left his AID behind. Some of the guys didn’t care what an AID saw. He was still too green for that. Sometimes three were a crowd even if one of them was an artificial intelligence.
Of course that left a bit of difficulty with conversation, but he was slogging ahead. A guy could dream.
“This is real pretty country,” he said, more or less to himself.
The girl turned her head and smiled at him then gabbled in the local language.
“I know, I’m an idiot,” Julio replied, stopping and touching a plant, lightly. He’d learned from even his limited experience that some plants were nasty.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Shundi,” Urnhat replied.
“That tells me so much,” the trooper said, laughing. “I grew up in a city, a Sub-Urb. I never saw the stars till I was in training. Much less green plants. For all I know, this could be one of the plants from earth.”
“Urt,” Urnhat said. “Are?” She lifted her head and clicked her tongue, the local equivalent of a head shake. “Akri.” She walked to another of the bushes and pulled at the leaves, stripping some of them off. “Are,” she said, holding them out.
Looking at the two plants Julio could see some differences. Colors were different, but plants could be all sorts of colors. But the leaves of the local plant didn’t have veins.
“Caves?” he asked, gesturing up the slope. “Holes?”
“Gafe,” the girl said, gesturing and continuing to walk. “Tang seeu.”
“Yeah,” Julio said. “Thank you, too.”
He looked over his shoulder at the distant camp then frowned as a group of suits left the front gate and began bounding towards the southern ridgeline. They looked to be in a hurry.
“Thanks for leaving me behind,” General Corval said over the net.
“Somebody had to keep things running with me gone,” Mike said, bounding up the slope.
“Humph,” the Chief of Staff replied. “You just wanted to go running.”
“I hate running and you know it,” Mike said as the group of suits reached the crest. They bounded downslope to a reasonably flat spot and Mike dropped a dust-off beacon.
“Sensors report a shuttle inbound,” General Corval said.
“Right on time,” Mike replied. “Any more of them or just the one?”
There wasn’t a reply and he frowned.
“Corval, anything else? Shelly, what’s wrong with commo?”