by Various
Then I saw the bodies. The rapid response team was reverently arranging them into two groups, earth caste on one side and fire warriors on the other. Within these, the fallen were being further organised into rows and columns from those with the highest rank and station to the lowest. Later, in accordance with caste traditions as old as the Greater Good itself, the workers would be buried and the soldiers would be cremated. The order and civility of it all should have given me some sense of peace, but it did not. The sheer number of the dead overrode such feelings.
‘Four hundred and seventy-seven killed,’ Tan’bay said gently. ‘None wounded.’
I turned to face him. ‘You mean there are no survivors? Not one?’
The man’s face was impassive. ‘It is half the reason we requested the shas’o come in person.’
I blinked in the intensifying noon-day sun. ‘What’s the other half?’
Several buildings were still standing intact near the destroyed bridge. Tan’bay led me into one that, until recently, had been a facility for repairing heavy lifting equipment. It was now a makeshift field command. As we entered, several fire warriors of middling rank stopped their busy activities to bow. I was taken into a small office that contained two chairs set before a large vidscreen. On a nearby table lay a collection of metal tubes in varying sizes. As I seated myself, Tan’bay closed the door and dimmed the lights. He pulled a data crystal from some hidden pocket and, after inserting it into the machine, poured himself soundlessly into the chair next to mine.
The scenes that flicked past me were memory captures retrieved from damaged or destroyed security drones. They must have been stationed not only on the bridge itself but all around the compound, for the perspective was constantly changing. Through their electronic eyes, I watched with growing horror as the Ka’Tashuns launched their early morning assault.
No one saw the first barrage coming, but it was certainly audible. There was a series of muffled booms, followed by a high-pitched whistling. Many of the earth caste looked around in puzzlement, or turned to ask one another if they had heard the same thing. Then the first of the missiles slammed into the bridge’s support pillars. The structure shook and, as the workers began to flee, part of the deck twisted to one side. With a terrible, shearing sound, the entire thing sagged downwards. Those who had been trying to escape clawed frantically for handholds, but there were few to be found. Their eyes were wide as they fell off the bridge, tumbling down, down into the gorge to smash apart on the jagged rocks or drown in the churning water.
The element of surprise was now spent. Unlike the workers, our fire warriors were calm, disciplined. Within seconds they had formed into cohesive squads, and began to shoot back. Their pulse rifles tore the tree line to shreds with crackling beams of energy. Even the drones were firing now, following their programming and networking themselves into squadrons. Despite all this outpouring of fire, it was impossible to tell if any of the Ka’Tashuns were actually being hit, ensconced as they were in the jungle foliage. The quiet, ordered peace of the morning was now filled with the cacophony of battle.
There were small explosions all around. The ground was being cratered by some type of shell or heavy canister. Then two things happened. The workers began to clutch their necks and collapse on the ground and the heads of the fire warriors began to snap back sharply as, one after the other, they fell down dead. A fine, red smoke began to drift across the scene. At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. The fire warriors were being specifically targeted by long-range snipers; that much was obvious. But given the speed with which they were being cut down, the number of enemy marksmen hiding out there must have been great. The workers and engineers who had collapsed were now clawing the air, seemingly oblivious to everything else around them. Their eyes were bulging and their faces began to turn a deep purple. Suddenly, one of them shuddered so violently that I could hear his spine break. Something exploded from his mouth and nose. His body shook, and he was still. The same thing was happening to all of them now. Every Tau not wearing a suit of environmental battle armour was likewise dying in a suffocating, epileptic fit. The red smoke thickened as it drifted across the scene.
I looked over at Tan’bay. ‘Some kind of chemical agent?’
Tan’bay rolled one hand over in the air, a gesture he did often as if he were casting something away. ‘The Ka’Tashun Sept is widely known to employ hyperlethal poisons.’
‘Their snipers, yes’ I replied sternly. I had studied the Ka’Tashun’s methods and tactics down to the most minute of details. ‘But never like this. This is being delivered in shell casings. That implies portable mortars or shoulder-mounted launchers.’
The vidscreen was a panorama of death now. Hundreds of earth caste lay twisted and broken on the ground. Red foam filled their every orifice. My fellow warriors were also gone. Only the drones remained, but they were being quickly dispatched by volleys of lasers. Those that did not explode outright, wobbled as their flight systems failed. When they crashed, they recorded a world turned at odd angles, where the land and sky were reversed or completely knocked askew.
‘And in such a volume,’ I continued. ‘How could they produce so many toxins with their limited resources?’
‘We believe the compound to be organic in nature,’ Tan’bay said. ‘I regret to inform the Shas’o, it is also most abundant in the deep jungle areas of this world to which our foe has now retreated.’
With that, he rose and went to the table. He picked up one of the grey metal tubes and handed it to me. It was sealed at one end and had a diameter large enough to accommodate my forearm. A fine, red, powdery residue clung to the interior. I wiped some off with my finger and immediately felt a stab of burning pain.
‘These are sporepod blooms,’ I said with realisation. The interior of Cytheria’s major landmass was a steaming, foetid rainforest so thick as to be nearly impassable. It was home to all manner of biting, poisonous things, but few as bad as the hata’le bush. The fruit of this leafy, burgundy-coloured plant was a hollow pod about the size of a clenched fist. The slightest amount of pressure would cause it to spew forth its spores in a misty cloud. They were harmful to both tau and gue’la alike, burning any exposed skin they might land on, and causing haemorrhaging if ingested.
‘Indeed they are,’ Tan’bay replied.
‘They can be dangerous, but not deadly. Certainly not like this.’ I gestured towards the vidscreen where the slaughter continued to play itself out.
Tan’bay’s voice was clinically calm. ‘It appears that the Ka’Tashans have somehow managed to amplify the plant’s natural toxicity. The modified blooms are taken into the mucous membranes of the respiratory tract, where they begin to reproduce almost instantly. The victims not only bleed internally and go into toxic shock, but end up asphyxiating themselves as a hata’la bush literally takes root in their chest and nasal cavities. The sponge-like growth you see coming out of the victims’ mouths are actually their lungs being forced outwards by the expanding plant.’
‘How?’ I asked. ‘How could they have done this?’
‘To that, Shas’o, We regretfully have no answer. Yet one thing is certain. What you now face is a weapon that works on two levels. The first as seen demonstrated here, but secondly, and of perhaps a more pressing concern, is the fear that it will generate; fear among our populace, both tau and acculturated gue’la. Fear leads to distrust, distrust to disharmony, and that, as the shas’o well knows, is anathema to the Greater Good.’
‘Using fear as a weapon,’ I mused. The Ka’Tashun barbarity was physically sickening. I rose quickly, and turned to leave. Then I heard a voice speaking in the harsh language of the enemy.
‘Sir, this one’s still running.’
My head snapped back towards the vidscreen. One of the drones, whose camera eye was still functioning, had been lifted from where it had crashed. The image jostled for a moment, then came to rest o
n a gue’la’s face. His skin was painted thick with mud and some kind of red camouflage. His mouth and jaw were covered by a stubbly, animalistic growth of fur. His brow was dark and heavy, and his eyes blazed with a white-hot hatred.
‘Shas’o Rra?’ he sneered. ‘Can you hear me?’
I knew at once who it was by the insulting name he used. Only one person on Cytheria had ever called me that. Ezra Mihalik, the self-proclaimed leader of the Ka’Tashun Sept.
‘Of course you can,’ Ezra continued. ‘That diplomat of yours will drag you out here in the name of procedure. And what’s more, someone of your education, you’ll want to see this first-hand.’
Off-camera, there was the sound of laughing.
‘I’ll be brief. This attack was a test and, I think, a pretty effective one. You and all your forces have eight days to leave Cytheria. If you don’t, my men will release these spores into each and every population centre on the planet. And don’t think I won’t actually do it because my fellow humans would also be killed. You should know that, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who isn’t helping to resist you is collaborating with you, and they deserve what they get.
‘Eight days, Shas’o Rra, or watch your people die.’ He looked away and nodded. The drone dropped back to the ground. From its new vantage point, I watched as several sets of boots walked away.
Tan’bay said nothing. Perhaps he was giving me time to think. Or perhaps there was simply nothing more to be said. I had one week to break the resistance. One week to somehow find Ezra Milhalik, and stop him. I’ll show you, I remember thinking. I am no ‘Commander Shadow’.
Ezra Mihalik had come up with his insulting name for me during our first and only negotiations. This was perhaps a month prior to the attack on the railhead. I was still suffering under the delusion that he was a logical being. So I sent out word that I would meet with Mihalik and try to put an end to the Cytherian conflict. A short time later, my offer was accepted. Two heavily muscled Ka’Tashun soldiers arrived at the gates of my compound. They were shirtless, dressed in heavy boots and camouflage-patterned pants. Each of them wore a bright red cloth tied around their heads. They were armed only with knives. One of them carried some kind of large communications device strapped to his back. They told the guards that they were envoys from the Ka’Tashun Sept come to see me, but were otherwise stoic and silent.
Once they had been disarmed and scanned, they were brought into a spacious meeting room where Tan’bay and I were already waiting. They placed the bulky device on the table in front of me, switched it on, and then stepped back with their hands clasped behind their backs. A voice began to emanate from a tiny speaker in the machine. It spoke in the choppy, harsh language of the gue’la. Fortunately, I spoke it too.
‘Are we good? Can you hear me?’ it said.
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘I can hear you. To whom am I speaking?’
‘Why, this is Ezra Mihalik, commander of the fifty-sixth Ka’Tashun Company. I also speak for the few remaining members of two other Ka’Tashun companies, the twenty-sixth and fifty-first.’
‘I see. I take it then that you have chosen not to meet with us in person.’
‘You’re very perceptive,’ the voice replied.
I looked at the two Ka’Tashuns. Their faces were impassive, but behind their eyes, they were smiling.
Tan’bay leaned forwards and launched into his carefully prepared opening. ‘Commander, this is Por’el Tan’bay speaking on behalf of the Tau Empire, and may we begin by saying how pleased we are that you have agreed to negotiate with us, no matter the forum. If our two peoples can learn to live together in peace, then the benefits for both sides will, without doubt, be enormous.’
‘Emperor wept,’ Mihalik groaned. ‘Are you the guy in charge?’
‘If you are asking as to whether or not we are directly responsible for Cytheria’s pacification and regime change, then, no. If, however–’
‘Fine,’ Mihalik interrupted. ‘Then let me talk to the one who is.’
I sat forward in my chair and addressed the transmitter. ‘I am the person in command of our military forces.’
‘Ah, good.’ There was a creaking in the background as Mihalik leaned back into whatever he was sitting on. ‘What do I call you?’
‘I have not yet chosen a name,’ I said slowly. ‘You may address me by my rank: shas’o.’
Mihalik chuckled softly. ‘You… you have not yet chosen a name?’ he parroted. ‘What the hell does that mean?’
Tan’bay answered him with a lesson in protocol. ‘Personal names should only be used between family members and close friends. At all other times, it is proper to address others according to their station in life. The only exception would be for those who have earned the right to embellish their title with simple descriptors, certain achievements, or places of importance.’
‘And you haven’t any of those, is that it?’ Mihalik asked me.
I was anxious to move past such a personal subject. ‘I am a commander of the fire caste. Thus, you will address me as shas’o.’
‘You said that means ‘commander’, right?’
‘Correct.’ I had the growing suspicion that the voice on the other end of the radio had no intention of negotiating for peace. ‘Let us begin by–’
‘Just commander,’ Mihalik mused. ‘Nothing else. Because you haven’t chosen the name yet. Or because you haven’t earned it?’
I took a moment to consider my reply. Before I could say anything more however, Mihalik spoke again. His voice was low and direct.
‘They put you in charge of a whole planet, so this can’t be your first time out.’
I cleared my throat. ‘It is not. I have survived four trials by fire.’
‘But there was nothing in those four that stood out enough for you to add them to your name, huh? And if ‘trial by fire’ is tau for ‘tour of duty’, then how did you earn your rank with so little experience?’
‘Commander Mihalik,’ I began.
‘Oh, you can call me Ezra. I have a name.’
‘Ezra, then. If you must know, I was given the rank of shas’o when I graduated from the most prestigious military training centre in all the Empire. I may have only completed four trials, but I have studied the art of war for half my life. It would be a mistake for you to underestimate me.’ I smiled then, confident that the weight of my credentials would put this backwater rebel leader in his place.
‘So,’ Mihalik said after a pause, ‘you read about war in a bunch of books, and now you think you have what it takes to actually conduct one. You’re the shadow of a commander. You’ve got no substance. Hey, diplomat, how do you say ‘shadow’ in tau?’
If Tan’bay was as outraged as I was he didn’t show it. ‘Rra,’ he replied helpfully.
‘Then that’s what I’ll call you: Shas’o Rra,’ he said, once again speaking to me. ‘What do you think of that?’
‘I don’t care for it,’ I said between clenched teeth. ‘May we return to the subject of negotiating a cease fire?’
For a long moment the only sound coming from the machine was background static. The silence stretched out so long in fact, that I thought the transmission had somehow been cut off. I was about to ask Mihalik if he was still there when he spoke up.
‘No,’ he said flatly.
‘No what?’ I asked, puzzled.
‘No, we can’t discuss a ceasefire. You see, Shas’o Rra, you and I are a little bit alike. I’ve spent half my life studying war too. Only I didn’t do it in some nice, clean school. I did it in swamps, and jungles, and burning cities. I learned about wars by actually being in them.
‘So, in the interests of… diplomacy, I’ll give you a choice. You can either pack up all your men, all your little drones and all your fancy war machines and go back to wherever it is you come from, or you can stay here and try to take me on. You haven’t g
ot what it takes to beat me, I know that now, but I promise you’ll get a real education while you try.’
‘I have two of your men here, Ezra,’ I warned him.
‘Yeah, good men. They volunteered for this mission. You know, what you should do is torture them for information and then kill them. But I figure you’ll just set them free. They’re unarmed, they haven’t done you any harm, and it would be the civil thing to do. But maybe you’ll prove me wrong. Either way, they’re prepared.’ With that, he signed off. ‘See you around, Shas’o Rra.’
I released his men.
It didn’t take long to discover where the Ka’Tashun were hiding. Their radio broadcast was easy to trace. At first, I thought this was strange. The enemy were very adept at relocating themselves and their dwindling supplies of weapons and equipment. Every time that our forces would locate and destroy one of their hiding spots, they would simply reappear days later in a new one. Only after I had met with Kor’el Che’rod did I understand.
Like all members of the air caste, everything about Che’rod was long and thin. A flex-screen map was spread out on my desk and he pointed to a highlighted area with a finger that was twice the length of mine. ‘Here,’ he said. His voice was a throaty whisper. ‘Herzon Ridge.’
I leaned in to get a closer look. Che’rod was pointing to a plateau in the deepest heart of the jungle. It appeared to be completely inaccessible.
‘You’re certain?’ I asked.
His face contorted slightly. ‘There is no doubt, shas’o. My pilots are most skilled. This is the location that you seek.’
I blanched. Of course he was certain. Kor’el Che’rod was not only a decorated veteran with far more trials to his name than I, but he was also many years my senior. How dare I question the validity of his actions like that? The lack of sleep was beginning to affect my judgment.
