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But by then it was too late.

“Wow, that thing can take down an elephant?” Kelly said as a mature female suddenly slumped to the ground just short of an unconscious human figure.

“Yep,” Jake said, panning the aiming reticle around. The elephants, following the trail of the “Posleen God King,” had finally reached the barracks. Since the trail apparently went into the barracks to their senses, they were looking in the barracks for the God King. Since the Cushites in the barracks knew better than to remonstrate with a herd of rampaging elephants, they were boiling out the back. And getting about three meters before they slumped into unconsciousness.

“I think we’re out of moving human IR hits,” Mueller said.

“Right,” Jake replied, spreading the aiming area and firing. All movement in the compound stopped except for the Indowy signatures in their barracks. “Time to fly.”

Clarty woke up with the worst migraine of his life, his arms and legs zip tied, and leaning up against something large, warm and very smelly.

Squinting his eyes against the rising sun his first impression was that the compound was now filled with very large boulders. Looking a bit more closely, he could see that the “boulders” were breathing. As was the one he was leaning against. Men in digital tiger stripe were wandering among the elephants, walking carefully.

The compound was filled with more elephant dung than he’d ever seen in his life.

“They apparently poop when they’re excited, one thing I hadn’t considered,” a voice said from behind him. “And one of them got shot by one of your guys. That pissed me off. Fortunately, it was only a flesh wound. All patched up.”

“I didn’t figure Gistar could get orbital firing authority,” Clarty said angrily.

“Who said anything about Gistar?” the voice said. The man who came into view was short and wiry with the look of a rejuv. “Colonel Jacob Mosovich, U.S. SOCOM. I’d say at your service, but I rather think it’s the other way around. We’ve got a few questions to ask you.”

“It’s really very simple, Mr… Clarty,” Jake said, looking at his buckley. “You’re going to be sent to a distant planet as an involuntary colonist. But there are some choices, there, good and bad. If you tell me what I’d like to know, the choices will be good. If you don’t, the choices will be… bad. So. Who hired you?”

“Like I’m going to tell you that,” Clarty said with a grunt of laughter. “I’d be more than willing to talk to avoid the… bad choices. Only problem is, I doubt I’d get to ‘enjoy’ the better choices. The people who hired me can’t just arrange something like this on Earth if you know what I mean.”

“Well, that’s one question answered,” Jake said, ticking something off on a list. “That this wasn’t your plan from the beginning. But we’d figured that. The thing is, I really sort of would like to know who you work for. Come on, be a pal.”

“Thing is, Mr. Clarty,” Kelly said. “There’s bad choices and bad choices. Let’s compare and contrast. One example is a colony ship headed for, oh, Celestual. It’s crowded with ‘indentured colonists’ such as yourself. Many of them are old, weak, sick, what have you. There’s a certain death rate among them which is, well, the Darhel consider it unavoidable. But if you’re in good physical condition, it’s just a very bad, very smelly ride with miserable food to a not particularly nice planet where you will live out your days working as a virtual slave. That, by the way, is the good choice.”

“What’s good about it?” Clarty snarled.

“Well, then there’s the contrast and compare,” Kelly said. “This is another ship. The ‘colonists’ on this ship are all volunteers. Conditions are somewhat better. However, there’s a problem with the crew. You see, the defense gunnery crew for the ship has been carefully hand-picked. They are all what could be termed violent psychopaths. They spend a portion of the trip… playing with the voluntary colonists. I won’t get into the details of such play except to say that there is a great deal of blood and a lot of screaming. At some point in the trip they rendezvous with another ship. The crew of the colony ship unload, then open up the bays to vacuum. The bodies, blood and other material are wafted into space along with the surviving ‘colonists.’ A few years later the Darhel find the ‘lost, derelict’ space craft and put it back into commission. The bodies, and evidence of what happened on board, are long gone.

“Now, Mr. Clarty, you have a choice. You can go to a distant planet and live out what remains of your days doing hard work for the eventual benefit of mankind and other decent races. Or you can be loaded on a ship full of ‘volunteer’ colonists and… not arrive.”

“You’re sick,” Clarty said, his eyes wide. “I mean, I thought I was sick, but you’re just nuts!”

“No, but I will admit the crew of the ‘voluntary colonist’ ship is,” Kelly said. “So, whadayasay? Who are you working for?”

“Mission accomplished,” Jake said, looking at the shuttle with the arriving Gistar personnel. The exercise had involved very little door kicking. None, really. Which had some of the DAG troops grumbling. But Jake considered it good training. In his opinion, DAG troops had to learn to be more flexible. They were highly drilled and unquestionably lethal. But they were also used to straightforward door-kicking. Sometimes kicking the door wasn’t the best way to solve a situation. Sometimes the best way involved… elephants.

“Not that we got anything we can use,” Mueller said. “This Winchon guy is in the States. We’ll have to turn the information over to the Fibbies and by the time they build a real case he’ll be long gone.”

“If they get to build a case,” Jake said. “Five gets you ten this was an intercorporate battle between two Darhel. Which makes us even more of whores than usual.” He paused and looked at Kelly. “So, where’d you hear about that ‘voluntary colony’ ship and where, exactly, do we find that crew?”

“You’d be hard pressed,” Kelly said. “I don’t think anyone left beacons on the bodies.”

“That was a real group?” Mueller asked, frowning. “I figured you made it up.”

“No, it was a real situation,” Kelly replied. “We didn’t deal with it. Another… group handled it. When they found out. It had been suspected for some time that the Darhel were intentionally losing colony ships.”

“Which is why nobody will voluntarily colonize anymore,” Mueller said.

“As you say, Sergeant Major,” Kelly replied.

“But that particular… crew was dealt with?” Jake asked.

“Yes, sir,” Kelly said.

“By whom if I might ask?” Jake said. “Because I never heard about it.”

“They were dealt with,” Kelly said. “Not by us, I’ll add. Pity, but it wasn’t us.”

“Well, let’s see,” Jake mused. “We’re the pinnacle of the SpecOps hierarchy, at least when it comes to black ops and killing bad people quietly. The Fibbies sure as hell didn’t do it because it would have been blasted all over the press. I’m not sure who that leaves. Nobody I know about. And there’s not much I don’t know about that’s on the black side.”

“As you say, sir,” Kelly said.

“I’m waiting for you to say something like ‘need to know’ and then I’d wonder why my XO has need to know and I don’t,” Mosovich replied.

“That would be a good question, sir,” Kelly said. “So I’d rather you didn’t ask it.”

Mosovich’s face twitched for a moment. He looked over at Mueller, then back.

“Consider it… unasked,” the commander said. “But in retribution for my not asking the question, you’re in charge of clearing the compound of the elephants.”