Eventually, through about half of their casualties, the scientists of the Blade had determined that the “Demons” were some sort of biological defense mechanism that targeted electrical emissions. By that time, the majority of the science team and a goodly number of Marines had bought the farm. But before they died, the science team had gotten a lock on the source of the Demons.
It was left to Weaver, Chief Warrant Officer Miller, USN, a handful of local Royal Guardsmen and a small team of the remaining Marines to stop the scourge. Fortunately, they’d been accompanied by the ship’s linguist, Miriam Moon. Normally as nervous as a rabbit, Miss Moon had been the person who figured out how the system worked and, using a local, shut it down.
While Weaver was away on his forlorn hope, though, the ship had been under attack. Most of the “Demons” were ground mounted but there was an aerospace component as well, giant red and blue “dragonflies” with a very fast reactionless drive system and lasers that shot out of compound eyes. The Blade had been chased into space by them and ripped very nearly to shreds. The local who had taken control of the system, Lady Che-Chee, had had to tow the ship back to the planet using the same flies that had ravaged it.
Enough repairs had been enacted to allow the ship to limp back to Earth, but making it spaceworthy again had been a half-year process. Weaver had acted as the ship’s executive officer on the trip back but gratefully turned over the job on arrival to a more experienced officer. Since then, though, he’d been deeply involved in the repairs and upgrades. Like, pretty constant sixteen-hour days involved.