Seeing the Elephant, Chapter Three

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: This belongs to Henson and Co or to David Drake. Rating: K Time: The future.

Author's note: This is a crossover between the universes of Farscape and Hammer's Slammers. Seeing the Elephant was an American Civil War term for seeing combat.

Previously on Farscape...

John and his friends have been mysteriously shot into a stange new Universe, with a few shiploads of Peacekeepers tagging along. They find themselves nearly a thousand years in the future in a human dominated society. How will humans respond to the militaristic Peacekeepers? When we left John and Aeryn, um, er, well, lets just say they were in no peril. Not yet, anyway.

And now, on Farscape...

The next morning, I slid out of bed and left our tent. The first thing I discovered was that someone had taken down the latrine tent I had used the night before. I stopped a passing K'hiff and asked directions. Either my English was worse than I had thought or his was non-existent. He started leading me away from the center of the encampment. Just as I was about to pull away and try again, I saw the latrine tent. I thanked the K'hiff carefully in English and went inside.

I stopped dead as soon as I stepped inside. In front of me was something that I hated to see, Chiana standing between two armed guards looking perfectly innocent. I swore under my breath and wondered what the little trelk had done now. Something dreadful I was sure. President Azzule was standing on the far side of the tent with a group of his advisors. At their feet was a stretcher with the wounded Peacekeeper that had come with us. Kneeling by her side was the medic I had talked to about her.

President Azzule smiled. "Please forgive the subterfuge, Mrs. Crichton, but we need your assistance. We understand that this Peacekeeper can understand us, but Chiana's English is insufficient to convey her words to us. Can you do so?"

If Azzule needed translator microbes or me to tell what the commando was saying, he was denser than I had thought. She was cursing in a low monotone and reaching unsteadily for the medic.

The medic smiled at me. "I have her sedated still, Mrs. Crichton. She seems to be trying to attack me, but is too sedated to function properly." I walked over and knelt by the commando. Her eyes turned and tried to focus on me. "Sun, you frelling traitorous trelk. Tell these frelling beasts that I'll kill every one of them, all of them, do you understand? And you, surrender your weapon to me, you filthy traitor."

I stood up and walked back to the President with the commando still muttering in the background. "Most of it's obscenities. She hates me, and she wants to kill you. She thinks you're animals. She thinks the same of everyone who isn't a Peacekeeper. Is that what you wanted to know?"

A murmur ran through K'hiffs. The President waved them into silence. "Is there a possibility that the Peacekeepers, seeing themselves on the brink of destruction, would surrender to me? I would offer them excellent terms. They would be my allies, not my prisoners. We can be very generous, you know."

I shook my head. "Peacekeepers would never consent to serving under what they believe is an inferior race. Most of them will choose to fight to the death. A few survivors might choose to live and begin a new life. I did in a similar situation, but few of these will, I think."

Azzule sighed and Chiana broke the silence. "That's exactly what I said, Aeryn. That the frelling
Peacekeepers would mostly die rather than accept anyone as their equal, much less their superior. A bunch of frelling moronic…." She stopped as she realized how I might interpret her remarks. "That's all right, Chiana. I remember what I was like a few cycles ago."

Chiana shot me a smile and immediately began talking to President Azzule about her knowledge of interstellar trade. I knew that her knowledge began and ended when she put her hand in someone's pocket and then left the planet, but Azzule could find that out for himself.

Azzule shushed her and turned back to me. "Again, forgive the subterfuge, but there are so few people we can really trust outside of our own." He then gave me a rather speculative look. "What I said applies to you and your husband as well. We can be generous for insight into the weapons, tactics and technology of these Peacekeepers."

"I'll have to discuss that with my husband. We know so very little about the whole Universe we find ourselves in. I don't know what we'll do." Well, that was totally true. I turned and started to walk out, but for some reason I turned around. "What about her?" I said, gesturing to the commando. "Will you kill her?"

Azzule grinned, not a reassuring sight with all those teeth. "Our civilized neighbors have taught us that if you kill your enemies, they will fight you to the death, but if you treat prisoners well, they will surrender to you. We hope, one day, to be civilized enough to vaporize our enemies at long range and not have to worry about such matters."

Azzule made some sort of a gesture to the medic. "Mrs. Crichton," the medic said, "I've figured out her body systems enough to keep her alive if she wants to stay that way, but I'll give you no guarantees when she no longer needs anesthetic. If she tries to kill us animals, we'll kill her. And that's a guarantee."

"Then tell her that. She'll understand you. And show her your weapons." I glanced around the room. "The Goddess alone knows why I'm trying. She wouldn't do the same for me."

"Because you're no longer a Peacekeeper." Chiana said quietly.

I nodded and walked off. The same K'hiff that had lead me here was waiting outside and politely directed me to the real latrine. This time, I didn't bother to thank him.

Heading back to our tent, I heard a familiar voice. "John, it's not like I've never seen you naked before. Now stop being silly."

I flipped open the tent flap and walked in. "You'd better have a frelling good reason to have seen John naked, Jool. And a better one for wanting to see him now."

Jool whirled around to face me. John stayed in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin. "Aeryn, I saw John when I had to treat him when he injured his head back when you were on Talyn. Now will you please tell John to get out of bed?"

John nodded to me. "That's the truth, Aeryn. I was doing my Burt Reynolds impersonation and Jool couldn't keep her eyes off of me. Happens all the time."

Jool whirled around again and faced John. "I couldn't keep my eyes off of you? You frelling human liar, I'll.."

I grabbed Jool by the shoulders and turned her around. "John likes his privacy and so do I. Now you just stay facing me and tell me what is so frelling important." I glanced at John. "Okay?" He nodded and got out of bed. Then he turned and waved at me, in a manner of speaking. He was halfway to his pants when D'Argo and Chiana barged in. He made a dive for the bed and shot back under the covers.

" John!" Both Chiana and D'Argo started their conversations with the same words, but I soon lost track as they both tried to yell over each other, what with Jool interrupting and John complaining.

"Silence!" John finally yelled. "Everyone, out of here. Except Aeryn, of course. I'm not talking to anyone without my pants on."

Jool, Chiana and D'Argo looked at each other, decided it was best to let John get dressed and left. Chiana looked back over her shoulder, though.

"Personally, I find that you're at your most persuasive when you don't have your pants on."

John grinned and was having trouble not laughing. "Don't start with me, Aeryn."

I carefully raised an eyebrow. "That could be taken a number of ways, human."

By this time, John was pulling his boots on. He stood and slipped Winona into his holster. "Wait a microt, when did you get your weapon back?" I asked.
John reached under the pillow and handed my pistols to me. "While you were in the powder room, one of the K'hiffs brought them by. The carbines are under the bed."

"My trip to this power room was interrupted by President Azzule. He's looking for allies, even the two of us. He says he can be generous."

John rubbed his lip with his thumb. "Yeah, until he figures out we know squat about anything but people, places and things in another Universe. Then what do we do?"

"Maybe Jool, Chiana and D'Argo have some better news." I started.

"Yeah and maybe Rygel has taken up weightlifting in our absence. He's probably one buff Dominar by now."
By that, I decided John didn't think our friends had good news. See? Humans can communicate.

When we walked out, Jool was talking. "Well, I do think that humans have a spare set of hands somewhere. That Guiscard had at least two pairs when he was talking to me." Chiana giggled. "All males have multiple hands, Jool. Ask Aeryn." Chiana grinned at me. "Does John have a spare set of hands, Aeryn?"

I grinned at John. "There are times when I know he has both hands on my butt and somehow my top comes unzipped."

John, of course, promptly changed the subject. "Okay, Jool, why do you need to see me? In the most personal sense of that word?"

Jool frowned, but must have decided John was just being John. "That human, Guiscard, came to see me last night. He offered me, and anyone who wants to come with me, the hospitality of Kersaint. We get more hospitality if we stay here and try to influence President Azzule to ally himself with Kersaint." Jool gave us all a grimace. "I told him I'd have to discuss it with you, but I had about as much of Kersaint's "hospitality" from Guiscard as I can stand."

John nodded. "Aeryn told me that Azzule offered a similar deal to us. All the Alpo we can eat and all the trees we can pee on, I guess." I ran the last sentence through my mind and decided not to hit John. For now.

Chiana laughed. "I got the offer from Azzule, and from Guiscard and a rather more detailed, and generous, offer from a Mr. Platt, the Economic Statistics Consultant of the Greater Albegnesian Free Trade Area."

"What the hell is an economic statistics consultant, Pip?"

Chiana rolled her eyes and gave John a smile. "He's a spy, John."

D'Argo cleared his throat. "John, I don't mean to be insulting to your race, but if the only thing between us and the Peacekeepers is a human army and the locals, I say we should take the first offer that lets us get off of this planet."

That was the wrong thing to say to John, but D'Argo completely missed it. "D'Arg, the locals waxed a Peacekeeper patrol and saved our eemas, remember?"

John slowly looked at each one of us. "I may not be the most impressive specimen you've ever seen, but I haven't done that badly, have I." That last was not put as a question.

"I'd say you're dead wrong about human armies. None of you have ever seen one before, have you? Even Commander Crichton hasn't seen one in nearly a thousand years." The new speaker walked out from behind the tent. Chiana nodded to him. "Mr. Platt."
Platt nodded to us all. "I'm Platt and as the lovely Chiana has said, I'm an economics statistics consultant, with all that the title implies." He leaned against a tree and grinned. "If I understand the Peacekeeper's tactics, they depend on warships in orbit to soften up the opposition with these frag cannons and then use their aerospace craft to take out point targets? And then, and only then, they send in relatively lightly armed commandos. Am I correct?" He stared straight at me.

"I wouldn't refer to commandos as lightly armed, but that's an accurate description."

"You've never seen a Peacekeeper task force…" D'Argo began.

"And with all due respect you've never seen a human army, Captain Ka D'Argo." Platt's smile faded. "I understand that Peacekeepers depend entirely on the artillery aboard their warships. Warships whose engines blew up in the Anomaly and which are now drifting into the sun. You have no ground based artillery systems. Correct?" Before I could reply, he went on. "And no repair or maintenance facilities for your Prowlers and Marauders, except the ones on those ships headed for the sun? And no transport, armored vehicles, tanks, ground based aerospace defense or artificial intelligence assets?"

Jool broke in. "I have a degree in occupational psychology. While John may not be a soldier or completely typical of humans.."

"He's not at all typical." Platt growled. He seemed to be losing his temper. "He's a millenium out of date. And from what I can tell, even if you'd returned to his age, the human capacity for bloodshed would have surprised you, I'm sure. I strongly suggest you listen to me, since I actually know what's going on around here, and accept my offer."

"Which is completely honest and above board, with no catches. And you certainly have no agenda of your own to pursue?" John put in.

"I have.." Platt stopped. "I have no more time." I followed his eyes and saw a dozen or more K'hiff soldiers headed our way. When I turned back, Platt was headed away from us.

The K'hiffs had us backed against the tent, but kept their weapons slung. What appeared to be their leader gestured to his throat and spoke in good English. "The detachment from the Hurate's World Protection Force has arrived to convey you to Colonel Hammer's headquarters. His Excellency will also send his own troops to be sure."

There was an interesting sentence. To be sure of what? That we got where we were going? That we didn't accept an offer from one of Azzule's enemies?

John shrugged and headed off. I followed right behind. After a microt, D'Argo, Jool and Chiana did, too.

Our escort was a dozen or so human soldiers in some odd looking vehicles. One of the soldiers got out of a vehicle and approached us. "Commander Crichton?" John nodded and the soldier made some sort of gesture with her hand to her helmet. "Sergeant N'Demi, Commander. I' m the honcho of your escort. These my other passengers?"

John nodded again and the Sergeant looked us over. That gave me a chance to do the same to her. She was as tall as John and as skinny as Chiana. What I could see of her skin appeared to be black. She wore a tan coverall and what appeared to be body armor over her torso. The armor was covered with pockets, for her equipment I supposed. On her head was a dull black helmet with a clear faceplate. I could see what I took to be letters being projected onto the top of the faceplate and guessed it was some sort of comm system. She and the rest of the soldiers had long black rifles slung so as to hang in front of them.

She reached into the back of her vehicle and dragged out a set of body armor and tossed it to John. "Everyone wears a chicken suit, body armor. And a helmet. Regimental AI checked your sizes during your interview with President Azzule. Don't worry, it'll all fit. If you need help, putting it on, tell me." While she talked she took more armor out of her vehicle and threw it to us.

D'Argo just held his in has hand and stared at it. "I don't think I need to bother with human body armor. Or human soldiers." He let the armor slip out of his hands and fall to the ground. Sergeant N'Demi picked the armor up and held it over her head. "This is a Model XXI personal torso body armor set. It weighs 4.3 kilos and is made from a ceramic matrix. It'll stop flechettes from the weapons most of the locals carry, and it'll stop fragments from grenades or buzzbombs. It won't stop one of our powergun plasma bolts and it probably won't stop a plasma bolt from the weapons you have, except at a distance. It might stop enough of the bolt to keep your asses from getting totally fried." She threw the armor into D'Argo's midsection. "And you're all gonna wear 'em or you're gonna run along behind my team all the way to the friggin' headquarters, because I ain't taking responsibility for no clowns that don't follow orders. See?" She turned to John. "He can understand me, right."

John nodded slowly. "Oh, yeah. He can do that."

D'Argo was a few microts from a hyper rage, so John started to try to calm D'Argo down. "Look, Big Fella…"

The armor was hinged at the top so I slung it over my head and stuck my head through while strapping it closed. "John, if D'Argo doesn't want to associate with humans, or people who appreciate humans, he can stay here. Or he can go anyplace he frelling wants." I turned my back on John and D'Argo.

The vehicle that Sergeant N'Demi had gotten out of was a boxy vehicle with a rounded nose. It was open topped and had what appeared to be a weapon mounted on a pintle with a soldier standing behind it. Another soldier sat behind what I guessed was the control wheel. There was a narrow bench seat in the back for more passengers. There were three similar vehicles nearby. "What is this?" I asked the sergeant gesturing to the vehicle.

She grinned at me. Behind me, I could hear D'Argo starting to struggle into his body armor. "You're one of the soldiers, right?" I nodded. "This is a jeep." The sergeant said proudly. Frell! Human language seemed to be a conspiracy against translator microbes. She walked to the front of this jeep and patted it. "Our infantry support weapons are carried by jeeps. It's run by a power cell that's recharged from the heavyweights fusion bottles. The engine runs three fans that balance us on a cushion of air." She walked to the empty seat in the front where she had been sitting. "Under the seat is the AI, artificial intelligence, and the communications suite." She gestured to the weapon. "My team's jeeps carry a tri-barrel two centimeter powergun. Others carry mortars, grenade launchers, or buzz bombs. They'll also carry a whole load, or tow a whole load, of support equipment."

"What are those?" I pointed to four strange looking vehicles parked by the jeeps. They were long, narrow machines with some sort of control columns in the front. A soldier stood on each one, so I assumed they were also vehicles of some sort.

"Infantry skimmers." The sergeant said. "Our infantry rides 'em until we contact the enemy. Like the jeeps, the power cells on the skimmers run a pair of fans. Slammer infantry mostly carry a two-centimeter powergun. Because of the heat the plasma charge gives off when you fire, the rifles fire one shot for each trigger pull. Tri-barrels fire in bursts with two barrels being cooled by liquid nitrogen while the third is being fired."

I studied the vehicles and their crews. A similar sized Peacekeeper unit would be moved around the planet in transports with support from Prowlers and Marauders. But once on the ground, they'd be armed only with what they could carry. The vehicle-mounted humans would have heavier weapons, more mobility and more ammunition. I started to wonder whether the humans might not be a match for the Peacekeepers.

N'Demi handed me a helmet. "Since we don't want you screwing with our communications in an emergency, I've set the helmet's comms to talk to me only." She pulled more helmets out of the jeep and tossed one to each of the others. She checked the fit of my helmet and suddenly cursed under her breath. She slapped the side of my helmet lightly. "No problems, Mrs. Crichton." She gestured with her chin to something over my shoulder. "Our K'hiff escort just showed up. Freakin' mud movers. Those antiques will cut our speed in half. Shit."

Five wheeled vehicles filled with K'hiffs were headed our way. Filled with K'hiffs was no exaggeration. The K'hiff vehicles were no larger than the ones the humans used, but there appeared to be six or seven K'hiffs in each one. The engines were louder than any similar sized vehicle I'd ever heard and they did move on some sort of wheels.

The lead vehicle pulled up even with Sergeant N'Demi. "I am Captain Parsillifus, the commander of the escort. Are you ready?" The K'hiff announced. N'Demi just nodded to the K'hiff officer and tapped my on the shoulder. "The Crichtons are married, so a little togetherness won't bother them. In the back of my jeep, now." She gestured to the other three. "Captain D'Argo, in the second vehicle, Professor Jool…" N'Demi stopped. Chiana had already gotten in the third vehicle and had her arms around a good-looking human male. Jool glared at Chiana but ran back to the last jeep and hopped in. She was no sooner in, than the K'hiff took off.
There was a burst of static in my ears and then I heard N'Demi's voice. "Gatta, get out front and take the point. Sulla, you're drag." Two soldiers on the skimmers took off and quickly passed the K'hiff vehicles. Two more hung back as we headed down the road. The road we used was little more than a well-worn track in the forest. The K'hiffs weren't going too fast, but they looked like they'd bounce out of their vehicles at any microt.

"Friggin' furballs." N'Demi's voice growled in my ear. "Let's see how their Captain does if it hits the friggin' fan."

"I was here when they were the enemy, Sarge." Another voice replied. "They did okay with crap for weapons. They'll do a lot better now." There was a pause. "A lot of the dumb asses'll die, but they do okay."

"Let's not be dumb asses, then." N'Demi replied under her breath.

John and I were crammed into the back of the vehicle. N'Demi was right. A little togetherness was no problem. John leaned over and pressed his helmet against mine so we could talk without using the comm unit in the helmet. "You were a little tough on D'Argo back there."
"He's a little tough on humans. Especially one human." I thought I heard John chuckle. "Besides, John, we have no guarantee we'll ever be able to leave this Universe. If we can't get along with the local humans, we are so screwed." That last was in English, and it did get a chuckle out of John. It did make him think, though.

We rode a cushion of air about a third of a motra above the ground. Within microts of leaving Azzule's headquarters, we started running into more K'hiffs. Those headed in our direction were soldiers. They marched in long columns on each side of the road with plenty of space between each K'hiff. To each side of the marching columns were detachments guarding the flanks. At the head of each column was a command group consisting of a few humans, a few K'hiffs and what was obviously a comm unit carried by a sweating K'hiff. The biggest weapons I saw were some tubular devices, easily carried by a single K'hiff. Apparently Azzule's heavy weapons, assuming he had any, were still being held back. Those headed in the other direction were apparently wounded or load carrying porters.

I commented to N'Demi on the discipline of the K'hiff troops. She turned in her seat and smiled back at me. "We have a militia battalion coming up according to my point man. Wait till you get a load of them."

We rounded a turn and almost ran into the frelling militia. Our K'hiff escort had stopped and their vehicles blocked our path. Their way was blocked by a large smooth-skinned gray creature that appeared to be a beast of burden. The beast was sitting on its haunches in the middle of the road, shedding packages of food from a poorly tied on packsaddle. Our escort commander was screaming obscenities to one and all. Another civilian K'hiff was standing nose to nose with him screaming obscenities right back. The beast's handlers were contributing to the chaos by simultaneously pushing the beast's head to the right and pulling his hindquarters to the left. One group tried to remove his pack and re-tie it, while another group tried to put the spilled foodstuffs back in the pack. All of this was being done with all parties screaming at each other. Only the beast seemed to calm.

"Shit!" N'Demi spat out. "Our genius K'hiff commander has him a fight with one of the Top Dogs."

"What the frell is a Top Dog?" John asked. N'Demi swung herself around in the seat to face us. "Religious leaders. President Azzule's supporters are mostly the trading clans from the coastal areas and the regular army. Most of the valley is farming villages and the big noise in them are the Top Dogs, the religious leaders. Only a few of the Top Dogs support President Azzule, but no two of 'em can agree on anything. So, the Top Dogs may hate Azzule and his new ideas, but can't get together to do squat about it. "

N'Demi swiveled back around and checked the blocked road ahead of us. If anything the chaos was worse. Most of the militia unit seemed to have stopped along the roadside. A few had joined the argument between the K'hiff captain and the Top Dog. A few more had decided to try to lift the beast's back end up off of the road. Of course, not bothering to coordinate with those pushing and pulling the poor beast or trying to load or unload him. One group decided to start cooking a meal over an open fire and a second group sat down in front of our jeep and began to play what I suspected was a gambling game. Another K'hiff casually urinated in the road. Two leaned on the jeep and began to examine the strange off world vehicle and its passengers. I decided that humans were not the least organized and disciplined race in the Universes. Not that I'd tell John that, of course.

Finally John leaned over to talk to N'Demi. "Shouldn't you try to sort this cluster frell out?"

N'Demi shook her head. "We fought here a couple of years back against these people. A lot of what is now Azzule's regular army were recruited as auxiliaries to the mercenary units that served here, on both sides. Most of the Top Dogs fought against us. But they won't do nothing unless we get them riled up and they lose their tempers. Better just to wait 'em out."

We sat there for a quarter of an arn while the argument got louder and the situation more chaotic. Suddenly the beast of burden got up and started wandering off the road, his load spilling on the roadway as he headed for a tree to eat some fruit there. In a few more microts his load was shoved off to the side of the road and we were again on our way.

"How the frell does anyone expect those amateurs to fight off anyone?" John muttered into his helmet radio.

N'Demi laughed. "The regulars ain't bad and they're getting' a lot better what with new weapons and advisors. And they are one tough group. Shoot off their arms and legs and they'll still try to bite you to death. Ask Lance Corporal Cuchillo about the convoy he ran up the Clobnucar road when we fought here three years ago." She gestured amiably to the soldier manning the heavy weapon in the jeep.

"Shit fire." Cuchillo raised his faceplate and spat to the side. "Intel told us there was seven or eight thousand K'hiff-sized heat sources on either side of the damned road. The convoy was forty or so hovertrucks. We had two platoons of infantry and a platoon of combat cars, plus artillery in support and the whole freakin' regiment if we stepped in the shit." He stopped and ran his eyes over the horizon for a few microts. "We did step in it for sure. We opened up on them at about one click. In spite of their being under cover in the trees, we could see 'em as heat sources on our sights. We used our AI to target our indirect fire assets and our supporting arty. We blew the shit out of 'em, but they just kept coming. There was on group of maybe three hundred that seemed to be assigned to take out the jeep I was on. Probably no more than a hundred finally came out of the woods, but they kept coming. They never made it to the jeep, but they knocked two infantrymen off their skimmers and swarmed them under. A lucky shot from our tri-barrel gunner set off a buzzbomb they were carrying and blew a bunch of them away. Otherwise I think they would have gotten our jeep. As it was, we circled the damn convoy and waited for help. It took a damned panzer company and three companies of combat cars to get us through. I heard the artillery commander was thinking about using a nuke on the valley." He ran his eyes over the horizon again. "A nuke on a bunch of damned indigs."