The Terran Mandate

by Michael J Lawrence

  Crimson Sunshine

  Shahn'dra padded her way quietly to the radio in the corner of the cabin. The thin tendrils normally draped over the top of her head quivered and then floated up over her eyes as she reached out with a leather brown hand to stroke the radio case. He had tried to explain it to her once. It was like the way she could reach out into the world with her antennae and sense things, but it was even more magical because the words were always crisp and exact, even if they were tinny or sometimes obscured by static. There was also one other big difference: it wasn't forbidden. The instinct to reach out to him mentally was buried somewhere deep inside. She was even tempted to try it sometimes, but her fear of the forbidden always stopped her.

  The leathery skin of her face fluttered and she pursed her thin snout into a narrow tube to let out a faint cooing as her hands brushed the dials. She wasn't supposed to. Her mother had told her to leave it alone until they they needed it. She looked over her shoulder to make sure her mother was still sleeping and then quickly flipped the power switch. She gasped softly and yanked her hand over her mouth as the box hummed to life and dim light emerged behind the window. She twisted one of the knobs just enough for the mysterious crackling hiss to jump out from the box. She always wondered what was inside making the noise and had to remind herself of what he had said: "Don't worry, it's supposed to do that." Her heart still beat just a little faster when she heard it. Two marks were etched on the window: one red, one white. The red mark was for trouble, for calling the Paladin. The white mark was so she could talk to Captain Brandt, a man she had only met once, but one she longed to talk to almost every day. One night, the box wouldn't light up and it had taken several days for it to come back to life. When she had screeched out at him after it came back on, he had patiently explained that she couldn't use it every day because it had to sleep. Since then, she was careful to count the days to make sure it had enough sleep so it would always come back on.

  Shahn'dra turned the knob and moved the needle to the white mark. The static was replaced by a shining tone that slowly rose in pitch and then whined back down until she couldn't hear it anymore. When the box sang like this, she knew she had tuned it correctly. Her mother snorted and shifted position. Her antennae fluttered for just a moment and then her breathing fell back to a deep drone. Shahn'dra closed her eyes and let her antennae sway back and forth as the box started to sing again. When the tone had reached its highest peak, she unhooked the mic and said the strange words he had taught her. She said the words slowly in a voice laden with the thick accent of her people's guttural language. "Echo Five, Crimson Sunshine, over." She let go of the button and waited. After a few seconds of listening to the box sing, she pushed the button again and repeated the phrase. "Echo Five, Crimson Sunshine, over." She let go and waited. He had told her that she should only try twice unless it was an emergency. She scowled as the box sang back to her without his voice. Then she heard the click. The voice floated out to her, tinny and warped with static.

  "Crimson Sunshine, Echo Five, authenticate baily."

  Shahn'dra closed her eyes as tight as she could, remembering all the combinations of sounds he had taught her. She couldn't read the symbols he had tried to show her, so she had made a long song in her mind and sang it to herself quietly every night. She hummed and bobbed her head until she came to the one he had said.

  "Echo Five, authentication is wick."

  After that, he would speak in her language, something that few Colonial Marines knew, but something that every Terran Guard learned from childhood. Because of this, he had told her it was important to never say certain things, like where they were or who they were. As far as everyone knew, there were no Shoahn' left and if they ever found out, it could cause some serious problems - and not just for her and her mother.

  "Remember to be careful, Shahn'," he said. She started cooing again, this time with a faint purring mixed in.

  "I know. I'll be careful." Something flashed through her mind. It left a wake of darkness that she couldn't understand and then was gone. She stroked her antennae, forcing them back down to her head. "What happened?" she asked.

  The box sang for a long time before the answer came back. "We had a battle today."

  "There is less of you," she said, feeling the new emptiness in his voice.

  "We lost many Marines," he said in a retreating voice. "Too many."

  Shahn'dra closed her eyes and stroked the radio. "Close your eyes," she said. Her head swayed back and forth as she listened for the wind and then she started to sing with nothing more than a whisper. Soon, a soft trill crept in at the bottom of her range. Then, she split her voice with a cooing melody that floated over the top of the trill. Remembering the cadence and tone of his own words, the melody echoed his sadness in a somber cycle that drifted higher with each round. She pulled in air through the singing gills etched into the side of her face, never stopping to actually breathe as the song coalesced into a vocal symphony. It was her song. Every Shoan had their own, but she infused it with a timbre that was meant just for him in this one moment. This particular song, like all Shoahn' songs, was unique and would never be heard again. It never occurred to her that the radio could never do justice to her singing and she sang to him as if he were standing right in front of her. She finished with three long notes stacked on top of each other and then faded them all to a whisper that once again sounded just like the wind. She let go of the button and the radio sang back to her with its droning whine. When she didn't hear his voice, she keyed it again and asked softly, "Jason?"

  The radio crackled and then his voice emerged once again. "I'm here," he said. She couldn't hear the faint break in his voice that she had inspired. "Thank you."

  "Some day I will sing to you in front of me," she said.

  "I hope so," he said.

  A sudden flash of darkness swept over her, stronger this time. It was different than before. The flavors of dark were infinite and she knew the few that humans could feel. This wasn't one of them. The Dark Winds whispered at the edge of her consciousness. Her heart raced and her antennae whipped straight up, waving frantically around her head.

  "I have to go," she said in a choked voice, and shut the radio off before he could answer. She backed away from the radio, but the darkness would not leave. She looked frantically around the room and held both hands out to keep her balance. She kept backing up and then tripped over her mother and tumbled to the floor. Her mother was already sitting up, her antennae flitting back and forth. She reached out and held Shahn'dra against the wall, as if to protect her.

  Together, they huddled in the darkness, their antennae dancing together as they pushed back at the forces trying to stampede into their consciousness. "It's stronger this time," Shahn'dra said. Her breath came harder as she concentrated to control the forbidden instincts that welled up into her mind. She was afraid of them, not just because they were forbidden, but because they seemed to have a mind of their own. The Dark Winds surged and she let out a gasp. She felt like something was looking at her.

  Then they were gone.

  Hindsight

  All eyes were on Dekker as he glanced around the room. "Before we get into all that," he said, "I want to know how the Terran Guard managed to get their second brigade into line just in time for this battle. It is more than a day's march from their compound, under the best of circumstances."

  "What are you getting at, Colonel?" General Lane asked.

  Dekker eyed Lt. Simmons. Taking the cue, she placed her palm flat on the table. "Sir, my mission was to conduct a recce followed by a combat patrol if the opportunity developed. After we found the enemy flank, we immediately observed the Guard's second brigade deployed in line moving decisively for the center of our own lines. Our estimate is that they were conducting a spoiling attack to secure and exploit a breach right down the middle."

  "Given that the Enforcer Battalion couldn't hold the initial line, I can only imagine what would have happened if the Guard's Second
had reached their objective," General Lane said, looking directly at Dekker.

  "That's not the way it was, sir," Lt. Simmons said. Colonel Harris, the regiment's S-2 and her boss, nudged her with his elbow, but she ignored him.

  Lane leveled his gaze on her. "How's that, Lieutenant?"

  "Colonel Dekker's infantry was engaged with forces from the Guard's Second before the withdrawal. By my estimate, he was up against the bulk of their armor company and two companies of infantry in addition to the Third Battalion of the Guard's First Regiment."

  The room fell silent as everyone's eyes turned towards Dekker.

  Lane squinted at Lt. Simmons. "Thank you for your report, Lieutenant." Turning his attention to Dekker, he said, "Did you know you were up against that much resistance, Colonel? I don't recall receiving a report on the disposition of enemy forces at your location."

  "As I recall, sir, I was told to hold the line and then the General closed the net. But that's not what's important here."

  "Alright, Colonel, let's have it."

  "As I said, I want to know how the Guard's Second Brigade knew to be in position just as our attack was starting. You heard Lieutenant Simmons. Those tanks weren't moving to contact. They had been brought forward from the Guards compound at least a day in advance and were rolling into the attack. They knew. What I want to know is how." He paused to assess the room - still finding no allies. "We hit a spoiling attack right off the bat. I'm not saying we could hold the line, but there might be more of us left if I'd had some help from another battalion or even an extra weapons company. You deployed a single battalion to breach the middle - "

  "Hold," Lane said. "You were to hold the center. You weren't the main effort here, Colonel."

  "That's a fire support mission, sir. Giving us an extra weapons company makes even more sense if that's the case."

  General Lane leaned away from the table. "I should have known better than to engage in a debate on tactics with the Enforcer." A flurry of nervous chuckles floated around the table. He leveled his gaze at Colonel Harris. "I think we all got taken by surprise on this one."

  "What's important here," General Lane continued, "is how we're going to get them back. Today's attack showed us how not to do it. The question is what to try next."

  The rumble of Colonel Mason's voice reverberated across the room. "Next? Sir, we have three under strength battalions - one of them hurt bad - and, what - a company of tanks? - against almost a full division of infantry and a tank battalion. If there is going to be any 'next', we need the Paladin here to get in the fight."

  "Yeah, well," General Lane said, "the idea here was to take on a single brigade and then defend against whatever the Guards had left with whatever we had left reinforced by the Paladin's Cats." Lane folded his hands on the table and let out a sigh. "You guys know we can't replace them. If there is any way to do this without risking them in the attack, I'd rather not resort to that just yet."

  "Sir," Mason persisted, "If we don't use them now, they're all we're going to have left. Things are not getting better. We need to get the Cats into a full attack while we can."

  "Alright, Colonel, we know where you stand. What about the rest of you?"

  Colonel Quadish spoke next. "General, we can defeat them. It would be better with the Paladin, yes, but I don't think we have to try that just yet. I agree with you."

  Turning to the S-2, Lane lifted his brows. "Colonel Harris?"

  "It's clear they've consolidated their forces. But I don't think they're going to leave their compound wide open for us to just walk in. They'll have to pull back at least a battalion as a rear guard to keep the lines of communications open. We'll have real trouble dealing with the rest, but with the Paladin -" He looked at the table and rubbed his forehead.

  "Go on."

  "If we put the Paladin in, it would be an even fight."

  General Lane raised a brow. "Even? That's all?"

  "Even," the S-2 said.

  "What about it, Major, are you ready to get in the fight?" He ignored the glances at Dekker, who had not been asked his opinion.

  "All I need is a company of infantry for a Foot Guard to keep their guys off our fenders."

  "Hell, you can take two of mine," Mason said.

  "As you were, Colonel," Lane said.

  "Just give me the word, General," Mason said. "I'll lead it myself."

  Dekker cleared his throat. "It's not what it's all cracked up to be." He made sure Mason was looking at him before continuing. "But I know you'd do a fine job, Colonel."

  "Passing the torch?" Lane asked.

  "I was relieved of those duties by your predecessor, sir," Dekker said.

  Major Walker glanced down at the table and then leaned forward, looking straight at Mason. "I'd talk to the Enforcer about it, Colonel. It's tough duty." He turned his gaze to Dekker and said, "It takes a special kind to guard a Cataphract."

  "Major, what's the status on your team now?" Lane asked.

  "We're set up just behind the compound. My rig is down for repairs."

  "How long is that going to take?"

  "At least a day."

  "Alright," Lane said. "Let me know when you're back on line. In the meantime, I'll take the issue of committing your team to the main line under advisement." General Lane stood up. Everyone around the table stood up with him, waiting for his final orders. "That's all for now. Carry on. Dismissed."

  Old Scrolls

  Shoan'fal crested a low rise to find himself looking down at nothing more than a boxy structure jutting up from the ground. Moonlight glinted off its smooth surface, giving it a cold sterile sheen. At first glance, it resembled one of the prefab buildings the humans had brought with them, but this was different. He pulled the Revealer from the bag slung over his shoulder and held it in his palm. He pointed it at the building and a green glow pulsated on the face of the device. He turned to point the device away and the glow dimmed. His antennae fluttered and a grin crept onto his mouth just beneath his snout. His body surged with a shiver of glee and he looked into the sky above him to let out a long sigh of satisfaction.

  He trundled down the hill until he was close enough to touch the structure. He stared at it for a moment and then carefully placed his hand against the wall. It felt cold and sucked the warmth from his hand. He stepped around the corner to find a slab of the same material lying on the ground. There was an opening in the wall where the slab had once been a door. He peered carefully through the opening and saw nothing but black. His snout jutted out in front of him and he sniffed the air as he poked his walking stick through the opening. Holding the stick out in front of him, he stepped into the building and padded his way across the floor until the tip clicked on the far wall.

  Wind swept past the building and wisps of sand swirled in through the door, but he could only hear the silence of the room. He tapped the wall with his walking stick and walked forward until he bumped into a shelf jutting from the wall. He brushed its surface with his hand and jumped back when it came to life with a dull glow. As the shelf brightened, symbols began to emerge. He recognized some of them as names for villages he knew. Others he had never seen before. Circles of varying sizes were drawn next to the names. Some were a simple black circle while the rest were colored in red. Lines snaked in between many of them while the whole picture was overlaid with a series of lines crossing each other over the entire screen.

  The glow from the display washed the room with just enough light to reveal a smooth surface embedded in the wall above the shelf. He leaned forward and tapped the surface with a claw. Nothing happened. He pressed his palm against the surface. Now, a blue glow shimmered on the surface and traced a thin haze around the outline of his hand and fingers. He drew a breath and held it, closing his eyes. A part of him still cowered at the warning against the ancient words. They were words that would unravel the world and plunge it into the darkness of an ancient past. The words hadn't changed, but their meaning probably had. Words to be spoken by his ances
tors from countless generations before had become a shrine to the Forbidden. Why would such words be remembered? Knowledge of such things was never without purpose. He opened his eyes. His mouth was dry and his voice quavered as he spoke words that had not been heard by Shoahn' ears for more time than anyone knew.

  A metallic click filled the room, followed by a faint hum as the surface unlatched and slid up into the wall to reveal a shallow alcove. The case sitting inside stared back at him. Small enough for a man to carry with one hand, its brushed metallic surface was embossed with a blue triangle. He tugged at the handle fastened to the top and it tipped forward. Heavier than he expected, it fell on the shelf with a thud. Startled, Shoan'fal took a step back and his snout quivered. He eyed the case for a moment, waiting to see if it would do something. His breath came in short pants as he approched the shelf and groped around the edges of the case, tugging at the seam. His hands brushed across an indentation. He dug into the indentation and tugged at the latch holding the case closed. He gasped when it snapped open. He tugged at the case some more, but it still wouldn't open. He found another indentation and opened the second latch, which allowed him to pull the top of the case back on its hinges and stare down at its contents.

  The case was lined with a synthetic black material that he was able to push in with his finger. A video tablet was nestled into the lining, next to a thin black box with metallic tabs protruding from each edge. Again, it all seemed similar to what the humans had brought to his world, but was still different somehow. The markings next to the thin buttons on the bezel of the tablet were in the ancient form of the Shoan' language that only priests were taught. The tablet itself was bulky and less elegant than what the humans used. His people didn't make things like this. The Shoan' were people who made carts from cord wood and lit the night with torches and candles. And yet, here he was, staring at something so far beyond all of that, but clearly from his world. Nobody had brought this to Shoahn'Tu. It had been here for generations beyond counting. A tingle of excitement welled up inside him. It had been waiting for somebody who dared step beyond the gates of the Forbidden to rekindle its power. It had been waiting for him.