First Salik War 2: The V'Dan

by Jean Johnson

  Needless to say, it startled the V’Dan. The contrast between the black-clad warriors and their colorfully clad, calmly smiling civilian counterparts emphasized their fierce expressions. Words blossomed overhead when al-Fulan continued. Slap your hands on your thighs, giving all mighty blows! It was not an exact translation, but rather meant to get the full context across. Stomp your feet—stomp your foes—as hard as you can!

  Hands raised and ankles raised, only to drop in hard, palm-slapping, heel-smacking blows. Jackie shook and slashed her spear while the others moved in unison. Rhythmically, the two groups of soldiers chanted in three beats with a long-drawn vowel, As hard as we can! We take all we can! Palms slapped legs twice, then their chests, then lifted to the sky. I fight! I die! I live! We fight! We die! We live! Fingers shifting into fists, the uniformed men and women punched the air in front of them. This is the strongest of beings, who fought and has fetched down the Sun, causing it to shine again!

  They dropped to one knee with a hiss, and Jackie called out again in Maori, writing the translation large overhead. We capture the sun and the stars! We fight from the ground to the sky! The Marines repeated her words, pumping their fists toward the flagstones and slapping their elbows with more fierce looks, shouting We fight from the ground! The Navy overlapped them halfway through, rising with their fists thrust in the air. We fight through the sky! Jackie outlined the golden words with brown and with blue. Each group repeated their line a second time, then all of them resumed the half-crouched stance of before, slapping their forearms, their biceps, their chests, all while chanting and shuffling forward one broad step at a time. One upward step! Overcoming obstacles! Another upward step! Overcoming all foes! Another step up—the Sun shines on us!

  It would have been dramatically perfect if the sky had cleared enough for a real ray of sunshine to beam down to them at that moment. They had to make do with Jackie spinning her spear and pointing up and off to the south, where a false ray of sun glowed upon their group like a broad spotlight, just as everyone shouted, Dawn! (Survival! Victory!), and posed with yet more fierce glares and threatening gestures. A beat later, all of the crouching soldiers straightened back into upright stances. One, two, three, four steps backwards, some larger, some smaller, all in crisp military precision, and they returned to a crisp, rectangular line guarding the still-calm Terran civilians in their midst.

  Black-booted toes touched the broad flagstones the moment everyone was in place; those who faced backwards or to the side spun to face forward. Jackie herself spun in a circle and dropped like a pile of sand, her black-uniformed body vanishing in a puffed ring of dark, quickly dissipating smoke. Her real body, on its knees all this time, pushed upward in a billow of white fog that curled up, floated out, and vanished into air, leaving her standing in her white civilian clothes. Making herself—her true body—invisible was not easy, but the white surfaces allowed her to bend light holokinetically around her body more effectively than black or any other shade could. Overhead, the last bolded word and its subtexts faded like golden fog.

  Immense cheers and screams burst out from the lowest Tiers, rippling forward all the way to the First Tier Plaza.

  (That was magnificent!) Li’eth praised her through the hubbub. Warm subthoughts wrapped around her psyche like a hug. (The cameras picked up two at the rear who drew their swords and licked the blades. That was truly intimidating at that size on the screens—you couldn’t have seen it from here, I think, but Grand Captain Tes’rin was biting his lip, trying not to grin at the display. The auras of the Elites are all very impressed! . . . Of course, they think you’re crazy, but it’s the kind of crazy the military can respect.)

  (Good,) she returned. Her earpieces had shifted when she had dropped to her knees to conserve strength and allow herself to concentrate. She tucked them back into place as discreetly as she could; she needed them for later. (Good. I wasn’t expecting to have to project words so far away. I’m glad I get a little break before the next presentation. And you can tell the grand captain that this is the short version of a war-themed haka. The march-out version includes full description of battle weapons used—modern and archaic—plus threats of what will happen to the bodies and souls of our enemies, and how we will humiliate them with tricks that are “older than the Moon.”)

  He chuckled. Yes, that was definitely a smile on his face. She could see it easily, now that her attention wasn’t split over so many places.

  Master of Ceremonies let the crowd roar for a bit, then held out his hands to either side, palms up for a few seconds . . . and turned them palms down. Quiet immediately fell, obedient to his gestured commands. It had been debated whether or not to introduce the two Platoon lieutenants, Lieutenant First Class Jasmine Buraq and Lieutenant Second Class Simon Paea, but that would have required introducing the various officers of the Navy . . . and since most of the Navy crew members were officers, protocol deemed it was more expedient to just introduce the two officers in charge of the two military branches that had been brought. So all that remained was for the presence of the Terran military to be accepted by the head of the V’Dan Empire.

  “Warriors of the Terran Empire,” Empress Hana’ka stated in the near silence that followed. Her words echoed down through the Plazas from the projection-screen speakers. “Your ritual display of courage, ferocity, and willingness for battle is impressive. We are honored by this cultural display, and we hope that your people will not have to display such things through true combat. I am informed, however, that we share a common saying despite our many differences. That saying is: ‘Do not hold your breath.’”

  A faint ripple of laughter could be heard from the various Tier sections.

  She paused to let it die down, then continued. “We are at war with a foe who will not differentiate between your people and ours. Understand that if you choose to stay, your lives will be placed in the same peril as those of our Empire.”

  “The Space Force Marine Corps stand ready to fight, Empress,” al-Fulan called back.

  “The Space Force Navy stands ready to fight,” Graves agreed soberly.

  “The Army, the Special Forces, and the entire Terran Empire stands ready to fight if need be, both to save ourselves, and to save those around us who are our hosts, our allies, and our friends. Among our 195 people in this embassy, 156 of us are trained and willing to fight,” Jackie stated from her place at the center of her delegation. Ksa’an had explained that they need not shout to be heard; the V’Dan had pinpoint-precise microphone pickups that would project their voices to the screens. The haka had required it, but now she need only speak normally to be heard. “It is hoped we will not have to, as we do prefer peace and cooperation with all . . . but as both our peoples say, we will not hold our breath for that.”

  “Your willingness to defend yourselves and those who stand with you is appreciated. The might of the Terran military is welcome in our Empire as our honored guests,” Hana’ka told them.

  The commander and the captain both bowed and stepped back to either side. At a gesture from each man, the Marines and Navy soldiers in the front line shifted to either side as well. Some moved to stand at the sides, while a handful of others spread out and dropped to one knee, visibly showing that they were still ready to defend their charges though they just as clearly did not consider the Imperial Family a big enough threat to remain standing. That brought the attention of the watching crowds to the patiently waiting civilians in their midst.

  “The civilian contingent of the Terran embassy,” Master of Ceremonies continued, “is composed of thirty-six scholars, historians, law-speakers, economic experts, and other assorted specialists of the Third Tier, five holy ones of great skill, the Assistant High Ambassador, and the Grand High Ambassador. Eternity, will you receive these people into your Court?”

  “I will.”

  (He’s just confused my sister Mah’nami, who specializes in mathematics. She’s mutterin
g that 156 plus 36 plus 5 plus 2 does not total 195,) Li’eth whispered in her mind. (She says it totals 199.)

  (Well, there is some overlap. Three of us “holy ones” are in the military, but we’re counted as embassy staff just like the other two psis, and I get counted an extra time because I’m the chief Ambassador.) She fell silent, listening to the introductions of the four psis, since Clees, Darian, Min, and Aixa, as holy ones were all considered Second Tier in rank. That meant they were worthy of an introduction to the Empress.

  Master of Ceremonies had to use approximate translations for their abilities, such as “. . . senses the emotions as well as the thoughts of animals and aliens alike . . .” for Aixa’s xenopathy and xenoempathy. Of the four of them, only Min Wang-Kurakawa had an ability that could be displayed physically. Things like telepathy and aura-reading just could not be seen by anyone.

  Min, however, was an electrokinetic as well as a powerful telepath. The lieutenant, clad in her Dress Blacks, removed her cap from her short black hair and handed them to a fellow soldier, then removed her jacket and handed that over as well. Doing that revealed how her gray shirtsleeves had been rolled up to the tops of her biceps. Planting her feet, raising her hands high, and dropping her head back, the young but well-trained lieutenant summoned electrons to her body. A thin line of brilliant blue-white light arced from one bicep to the other. It crackled and pulsed, writhing in place for a moment before traveling upward like the crawling spark of a living Jacob’s ladder. Another one rose, and another as well.

  The crowd went wild over that. So did her hair, her chin-length, feathered cut fluffing out and up, higher and higher. A full dozen high-voltage traveling arcs crawled up to her wrists before parting and snapping up and off her spread fingers, magnified on the viewing screens so that every little flash and twist pulsed across every Tier. Min ended the effect with a slash downward of her hands and a crack of lightning that drooped her static-raised strands of black hair. It also sent a puff of ozone scent wafting slowly across the plaza, inadvertently making three fellow Terrans sneeze. Grounded and safe to touch once again, she folded her bare arms across her chest.

  (. . . I think I just saw all four High Priests expel in their undergarments,) Li’eth quipped in her mind.

  (Shhh. Behave, or I’ll make you transfer energy to me for the presentation.)

  (I should probably do that anyway. We’ve progressed to the point where I don’t have to touch you to be useful, right?) he asked.

  (It’s not nearly as efficient, but yes. That would be helpful,) she agreed. (I should get a little more energy back than it’ll cost me to concentrate. Unless . . . do you think I could get away with calling you down here to assist me?)

  (Well, you could always ask. If Mother says yes, it’ll put a small wrinkle in the Master’s timetable, but not a huge one,) he added. (He’s quite capable of handling the occasional deviation, such as Mother’s little jest. He wouldn’t be Master of Ceremonies, otherwise.)

  “Presenting unto the Empire the extraordinary, honorable Assistant High Ambassador, Rosa M’Crary,” Master of Ceremonies announced. The glottal was a little more pronounced than it should have been, but he managed to get it a little more Terran-sounding than V’Dan, at least. “Former Councilor of Western Australia Province for five years. Former Councilor of Melbourne Prefecture for ten years. Former Councilor of Victoria State Prefecture for fifteen years, having served with an unprecedented 93 percent approval rating from her entire constituency for ten years running.”

  The V’Dan had no idea what that meant, but they did applaud. They also didn’t know that the ten years of serving the megapolis of Melbourne, Australia, had come after serving the state prefecture. Rosa, gracious to the last, merely smiled and stood there, looking elegant in a light aquamarine gown spangled with diamante that glimmered in snowflake patterns all over her gown every time she moved.

  “Most recently, Assistant High Ambassador McCrary has held the position of Premiere of the Terran United Planets for four years, succeeded by her assistant, the former Secondaire Augustus Callan, stepping down in accordance with Terran prophecy so that this great stateswoman could be here to greet the peoples of the Alliance and grace them with her knowledge and understanding of decades of service in Terran politics.”

  A smattering of applause, confused but polite, met his words. Jackie knew the V’Dan didn’t understand. One of her staff members, however, took exception. The man called out an impromptu, “—All hail the Honorable McCrary!”

  Every member of the Terran delegation turned in ragged unison and bowed to her. Even Jackie bowed her head though not her body. (Dammit. Now if they don’t also bow to me at the very least, I’m going to lose face.)

  (Sorry,) Li’eth sympathized.

  (This is why we practiced this stuff in the hangar bay on the Dusk Army, so protocol accidents would not happen.) She sighed mentally though she kept her serene public smile firmly in place, watching Rosa nod in acknowledgment. The older woman stepped aside and turned to face Jackie, deliberately calling attention to the younger, brunette woman. It was now her turn, the last Terran on the planet scheduled to be introduced. (Oh well, here we go . . .)

  “And now, Eternal Empress, the most important member of the Terran delegation comes before you. She is a holy one of high skill among her people, many-gifted by the saints of her culture, a remote-seer of the seventh rank, sound-maker of the seventh rank, far-seer of the ninth rank, light-shaper of the eleventh rank, world-mover of the twelfth rank, and mind-speaker of the fifteenth rank, also blessed with the ability to touch and learn from animal and alien minds! A trueborn descendant of Councilors, Governors, and the Holy Jessie James Man-Killer, She Who Walked Barefoot on Their Moon, this meioa has served with an 89 percent approval rating in just one term as Councilor of the many great archipelagos of Oceania, covering one-quarter of the Terran homeworld!”

  (Aaaand that sounds far more impressive than it really is. Oceania is slightly less than half of one percent of the entire population of the Terran United Planets,) Jackie quipped dryly, still smiling serenely. (Even after we lost several islands permanently over the centuries to global warming, though we did get a few back once we corrected the overheating problem . . .)

  (That’s good to know the truth, but don’t you represent the entire Terran United Planets now?) he reminded her.

  (Where anything to do with exo-Terran interests are concerned, yes,) she added, just as Master of Ceremonies stated the same.

  “. . . Now having been granted the full authority of overseeing all non-Terran interactions for the entire Terran United Planets, the Terran embassy presents Grand High Ambassador Jacaranda Leilani MacKenzie!”

  Thankfully, Rosa herself solved the problem of patching the protocol hole. She immediately lowered herself to one knee, resting her hands on her thigh. In rippling waves, the others quickly dropped as well, and remained on one knee, as if they were still giving honor to the Imperial Family.

  Hoping she looked regal, Jackie paced slowly forward until she stood a few meters in front of the captain and the commander. The fine gauze petals of her sleeves and her skirts wafted around her, their hemless edges fading and blending, some still trailing on the ground while others were kicked up by the air turbulence of her own movements. It almost could have been a wedding gown back home, but the white was for holokinetic reasons, not cultural ones.

  “Aloha, Eternal Empress Hana’ka Iu’tua Has-natell Q’una-hash Mi’idenei V’Daania,” Jackie stated smoothly. Or rather, properly, with each glottal stop precisely placed. She knew she got it right from the surge of pride the woman’s eldest son sent to her on a subthought. “I greet you in the name of the Terran Empire.

  “Aloha. I greet you with this word that is the core of the spirit and the culture of the people of my mother’s mother, the people of the Hawai’ian Islands. I greet you in the spirit of Aloha, which has many meanings, from Hello t
o Good-bye, Affection to Peace, Compassion and Mercy and Love. Aloha is said with the spirit of coming together, with the idea of sharing with each other the essence of life and all of its prosperity. It has become the word of greeting and the word of parting for our entire nation, and the name of our capital city, to remember always to come together in the spirit of its meanings.

  “So I give unto you, as one duly appointed representative of a great nation to another of equal and wonderful esteem, this greeting of peace and caring, sent from all of our people to all of yours. Aloha. Aloha kaˉkou. Greetings of love and peace to everyone, for it is good, and beyond good, to finally meet you, our long-lost cousins. Aloha kaˉkou.”

  “Aloha, Grand High Ambassador,” Empress Hana’ka returned. “We are pleased to meet our long-lost cousins as well, and doubly pleased that it is a meeting filled with peace, friendship, and cooperation.” She paused, then said something that was not scripted. “. . . I personally greet you, Ja’ki Maq’en-zi, and your assisting crew, with my gratitude as a parent for the safe return of her son. I greet you in the names of those families who had their own kin returned safely to them. Thank you.”

  “I will hope that we will not have to do that again,” Jackie admitted. “But as your people are regrettably at war, none of us should hold our breath.”

  Hana’ka nodded slightly, then returned to the introduction scripted carefully by the protocol officers on both sides. “I understand you have a presentation to give, before introducing us to your communications technology, and through it, an introduction to the leader of your people.”

  “Yes, Eternity,” Jackie agreed.

  “You may do so,” Hana’ka instructed her.