“The Fathers were from a hot, heavy world,” said the newly promoted Staff Sergeant Kono. “Short build, big arms, inefficient body temp regulation. Now watch your spacing and admire the architecture later.”
“Major?” It was Sergeant Kunoz, Second Squad. “We got bodies. Tavalai, five of them, on the street. Looks like they were running away, all recent.”
Trace took that position off tacnet — just two blocks away. “Copy Sergeant. Civilian or military?”
“All civvies. No weapons in evidence, though those might have been moved.” A visual came through, Sergeant Kunoz’s perspective. Circling two bodies, tanned green and brown, squat and clearly tavalai. Short sleeved jerkins, loose pants, nothing military. Blood stains like they’d skidded and rolled… shot while running, as Kunoz said. “Evidence of automatic gunfire on the trees and walls. Very recent.”
“Lieutenant Alomaim, you see anything?” Lieutenant Alomaim’s viewpoint was providing tacnet with additional data, some movement two blocks from here, and more elsewhere, where Phoenix forces weren’t.
“Laser acoustic registers some muffled gunfire,” said Alomaim. “I think they’re possibly indoors. Or underground, this place would have a transit system, right?”
“Yes, yes it would,” Trace confirmed. Command Squad reached another diagonal intersection, and along the left-hand road were taller buildings, perhaps apartments. Beneath them, two bodies lay on the road. “We have two more bodies here. Investigating.”
Command Squad needed no instruction, Kono waving his troops left and right, walking crouched with rifles ready, sensors on full for any movement. Neither of the tavalai appeared to have been shot. But they lay a crumpled, broken mess all the same, one of them with an arm badly broken beneath the body.
“Thrown out of the building, looks like,” said Private Van, scanning the high windows above. Trace crouched to look more closely, with total confidence that she was well covered. Tavalai had long, flat heads, with big, double-lidded eyes spread wide and slightly bulging. Their mouths were huge, throats bulbous, like the frogs they were sometimes derided as. But their bodies were strong, native to a heavier gravity than humans, and half again the air pressure. With combat augmentation, their soldiers were not quite as fast as humans, but comfortably more powerful.
This one’s eyes were gaping, mouth open in frozen horror. Trace wondered if in all her life, she’d seen more dead tavalai than live ones. Dead, she decided. These two had clearly been thrown from a height. Their thick limbs lacked the size and muscular definition of soldiers, and their clothes were utilitarian, with many pockets. She reached, and fished a computing device from one pocket. On it hung a metal symbol, like jewellery.
“Watch!” said Corporal Rael abruptly, rifle tracking a running figure up the street end. Trace stayed on a knee, but did not bother to aim, watching instead. The runner was tavalai, also civilian, unarmed and frantic. It sprinted at them in a powerful, loping gait that looked so different from what Trace was accustomed to seeing in tavalai battle armour.
“Hold your fire,” Trace said calmly, knowing there was little need. Tavalai did not play dirty tricks with bomb-rigged civilians. A chah'nas appeared behind the running tavalai, in light battle armour. “Target!” The chah'nas had two weapons in four hands, indistinct at this range. “If he shoots, take him down!”
Instead, the chah'nas strolled from the street, raising a launcher as he went. As soon as he was out of sight, a loud pop! sounded, and the marines hit the deck and rolled for cover without a word spoken. But the grenade hit short, and blew the running tavalai straight into a roadside tree.
“Go get him!” Trace instructed, and Corporal Rael took off up the road with his section, while Kono, Terez and Van moved with Trace to the tavalai. This tavalai was also dead, an arm nearly missing, horrid wounds from the shrapnel blast.
“Major,” said Lieutenant Alomaim from high above, “we just saw what looked like a chah'nas use a grenade on a running tavalai…”
“Yeah I saw that too,” said Trace. Alomaim was the least experienced of her five Platoon Commanders, and not everyone caught everything first time on tacnet. “He was at pains not to shoot at us, only the tavalai.”
“I guess they figured our tavalai IFF was bullshit when we were still hours out,” Staff Sergeant Kono growled. “Once they knew we were human, they got out and went to work. These guys don’t know what happened to Captain Pantillo.”
“Major, he’s out of sight,” came Corporal Rael up the end of the street. “Shall we pursue?”
“No, hold that crossroad and wait for us. We’ll…”
“Major. Look right.” Trace looked, back where they’d come. A doorway onto the street was open, and a tavalai head peered out, fearfully. Looking at them. Things must be desperate for a tavalai to look at a human with such desperate hope. But then, she recalled the Captain saying that the tavalai’s great enemies in the Triumvirate were not humans but chah'nas…
“Weapons down,” said Trace, and jogged that way. Kono and his two came also, hurrying to take up position about the street opposite. Trace confronted the tavalai. Its leg was bloody, wrapped with a rough, makeshift binding. It retreated back into the passage, limping and grimacing, not wanting to be anywhere near the road. Trace followed, weapon out to one side, unthreatening. “Hogi dagalama?” she demanded of it. “Hogi dagala, doli ma?” ‘What happens here?’, that was, in her utilitarian Togiri. All marine officers knew a little by official requirement, and learned a lot more on the job.
The tavalai slumped back against the passage wall, and shook its head. “Chah'nas kill us,” it said… a deeper voice, Trace thought. In tavalai as in humans, that meant male. The vocals were a deep and multi-toned vibration, with a bubbling on sharp consonants that made understanding hard. “Chah'nas come two cycles, two days yes? Days? Two days, and they come here and they made us all line up… we are just scientists!” Frantic fear. Horror and grief, at what he’d seen. One didn’t think the tavalai face could convey such things, so different it was from anything familiar and human. But it could. “Where were you humans? We were told, command tell us, they surrendered to humans! To humans only, we were expecting humans, and then the chah'nas came and they kill us all!”
Trace looked at Staff Sergeant Kono, guarding the doorway. Within his armoured visor, his eyes were grim. The alien asked good questions.
“How many of you?” Trace asked.
“There were five hundred and twenty of us on this facility. All scientists… we were collecting our final data. I… I am Chisdhorahmradaem, I am a linguist with the Narigalda Institute of Historical Studies, I… I was instructed to be here to give humans a tour of the facility.” Those wide-set, amphibious eyes swivelled far forward to focus on her, seeking understanding. The wide mouth trembled. “If… if we are to lose this place, we can at least leave it in good hands and some human scientists I know are very good and respect the old things as we do, but… but instead we get that!” Pointing with stubby fingers, out at chah'nas, at death and slaughter. “Why did you do this to us? Have the Tavalim not suffered enough?”
Trace swallowed hard. “Listen, Chis. I am not here under orders from human command. Understand?” Incomprehension. “We are UFS Phoenix, and we are renegade from human command. Do you understand this word? Renegade?”
A fast blink with the inner, translucent eyelids, but not the outer. “I… yes I think so. They chase you?”
“They killed our Captain.” Possibly it was more than she should say, but at this point she didn’t see the value of deception. “I think our Captain saw this coming, he knew that human Fleet would betray you. Who amongst your people is highest ranked? Who can help shed light on this?”
“No no no!” Chis protested. “You will just save the senior people! You have to save all of us! Please, you must!”
“How many are left?” Trace retorted.
The tavalai began to shake. “There must be some,” he said through tears. Humans and tavala
i had that in common too. “There must be some left. Please.”
Trace stared at the grief-stricken alien. This was not right. Whatever purpose the chah'nas had here, this was evil, and should by all rights be stopped. But her cause was not the tavalai cause, it was the human cause. The human cause had demanded that she kill many, many tavalai, tavalai much unlike this one in that they were soldiers, but those soldiers would have families just as her soldiers did, and those families no doubt felt grief just as this one did. Did feeling sympathy for a tavalai make her a hypocrite? On so many occasions, she’d been the chah'nas, as they were behaving right now. Not massacring civilians, but cutting vast swathes through tavalai soldiery, which had in turn, on occasion, opened tavalai civilians up to direct assault, and the horrors of collateral damage.
“Major, got a chah'nas out here. Different guy that shot our tavalai.” It was Corporal Rael, up on the next intersection. “Posture unthreatening, looks like he wants to talk.”
Trace left quickly, almost relieved to have that excuse. “Guard the tavalai,” she said, and Kono left two behind before coming with her as she strode up the road.
“Could be an ambush,” he warned, as much for his people’s benefit as to warn her. “Stay alert.”
At the intersection, Trace found there was indeed a big chah'nas, covered by Corporal Rael, whose other three marines covered the surrounding roads. Trace took position by a tree and beckoned the chah'nas over. The big four-armed warrior seemed to smirk, and came. He had light battle armour, nothing powered, but decorated with spiral patterns on the shoulders and chest. His rifle was on his back, a big pistol on one thigh, and other weapons in webbing about his person.
Not karko-tan, the elite warrior class. Those were like chah'nas marines — the elite combatants, always in advanced armour. That ship at dock was not a carrier, just a dokik-class cruiser. Chah'nas did not distinguish between spacers and marines like humans did — all their spacers fought too. Trace admired that about them — they specialised less than humans, and always looked to climb the ladder from one role to another. Some of their greatest warriors and captains had begun as cleaners and errand boys.
“Phoenix,” it said, in clear English. Trace thought this one might be female… with chah'nas it was rarely obvious. “Why are you here?”
“You seem surprised,” said Trace, looking up at it, shoulder to the tree. The chah'nas seemed pleased to see her cowering in cover while it stood exposed. Trace was unbothered. Soldiers who liked to proudly display their bravery by standing without cover usually ended up proudly dead. Professionals didn’t give a damn how non-professionals felt. “Why? This is a human system by conquest.”
“We have permission to be here.”
“Given by whom?”
The chah'nas’s four eyes narrowed. “You entered the system with a tavalai IFF. Our squadron had no choice given their position but to run or be destroyed. You may have just restarted the war, they think tavalai attacked them in violation of the surrender. Why have you done this reckless thing?”
“Speaking of violating the terms of surrender,” said Trace. “You are killing unarmed tavalai civilians. This is a human system, they are under human protection. You will cease, or you will be destroyed.”
The chah'nas considered her for a moment from that great height. “You are acting without orders,” it concluded. No stupid alien this one, Trace thought. “What have you done?”
“We are UFS Phoenix,” said Trace. “You know us. We outnumber you. We outgun you. You will tell us who gave you permission to be here, and what your purpose is.”
“I will not,” said the chah'nas. “You can shoot me if you wish, but I do not believe you will. Humans and chah'nas have won this great victory together. We together conquered this place, and restored it to its rightful ownership after ten thousand years of improper occupation. You will not squander this.”
“Tavalai in this zone are under human protection,” said Trace. “Harm them, and you will die.”
The chah'nas smiled. “Frog lover. The weakness of humans is also known to us.” It waved two hands dismissively — the diagonally opposing hands. Those were linked, in the chah'nas brain, and could not easily operate independently. “Do what you will. I will do what I must.”
The chah'nas swaggered away.
“Major?” came Lieutenant Zhi’s voice. “You’d better come and take a look at this.”
She went with Kono and two others, down a diagonal, past some high, ornate columns of what looked like a public building, then to a new intersection. First Squad were there, guarding the intersection. Trace could not see their faces, combat visors still in place, but something looked wrong. Body posture suggested as much, several leaning on things, or sitting, balanced against their rifle butts.
Lieutenant Zhi came up to her, and Trace looked at him in concern. “Major.” His voice in her ear sounded strained. “Down there. Mass transit system, no trains, guess the tavalai didn’t want to spoil the history of the place.”
“What’s down…”
“Don’t ask. Just look.” Her soldiers never spoke to her like that. Not unless something was badly wrong. Trace took a deep breath, and signalled Staff Sergeant Kono.
There was a stairway leading down from the road, into a deep tunnel. Trace activated IR and kept descending in the dark. At platform level, she found two more marines — Khan and Lopez, tacnet identified them. Neither said anything.
Trace walked to the long platforms, where once long, long ago, passengers had awaited trains to take them elsewhere. Probably they’d have used magnetic rails, Trace thought, as that technology seemed a constant on this cylinder. She peered off the platform edge as she went, to see if the tavalai had put any kind of working system here at all to reuse this tunnel for its ancient purpose…
…and saw bodies. A carpet of bodies. Dozens of them, limbs entangled, all charred and blackened. Melted together, like some grotesque artwork of straining hands and twisted legs. An arm raised to protect a face, another covering his comrade as though to shield him from the flames… or had it been ‘her’? Lovers, friends. Civilians.
Trace walked the platform rim, counting until she reached a hundred. The bodies were separated in places, where tavalai had tried to run. She knew why her soldiers, who were toughened by so many bad experiences, reacted so strongly. This was fire, flamethrowers used perhaps to save bullets, perhaps not to fill the historic site with holes. Perhaps to make it personal. Bullets could be fast, but flames without armour were slow agony. And she could see it playing out as she walked the platform, could see where screaming civilians had run and fallen, an isolated, charred corpse here, huddled on the ground as though trying to dig through concrete with bare fingers to safety. Others over there, set aflame while running. A great cluster here, where running, tripping tavalai had fallen atop each other, and been scorched to a single, melted ball of bone and flesh.
“LC,” she said quietly, aware that Phoenix was tapped into her helmet cam. “Are you seeing this?”
“I’m seeing it,” came the subdued reply. Behind him, Trace heard someone on the bridge utter an oath. “Major, we’ve got our first visual scans of the surface. Several of the primary settled sites have been razed. It looks like they were doing the same thing down on Merakis itself.”
“LC?” It was Kaspowitz’s voice.
“Go Kaspo.”
“I think they were sent here to tear a hole in the tavalai’s cultural memory. These are scientists and academics, they’ll be some of the tavalai’s best. They were expecting humans, they were going to show us around, beg us to look after it, and collect as much data as they could from the stuff they hadn’t dared to look at before now. These are the people who write the story of tavalai history. And the chah'nas decided to wipe them out.”
“And Fleet High Command decided to let them.” There was cold fury in Erik’s voice. “Dear god. Major, make sure this is all recorded. I think there’s a few trillion humans who need to see
this.”
Trace reached the platform edge, and jumped down. She lifted her visor, and gasped a lungful of thick, humid air. The smell of charred flesh almost made her gag. But it didn’t seem right to hide from it behind her mask and breather. This was what horror looked and smelled like. The horror that her own commanders had arranged, in concert with the chah'nas. She wondered whose idea it had been originally. Merakis was important to tavalai, so they all arranged to slaughter those tavalai best positioned to perpetuate that importance.
What would such people do next? Decide to do the same to human historians who failed to write of Fleet with the proper reverence? Do the same to Worlders who demanded more power? This was an effort to control ideas. These charred remains had once been the people who arranged the tavalai museums, who displayed the artefacts. Tavalai valued such things more than humans, who had lost so much of their history, and forgotten so much more in their endless march of wars and vengeance.
Trace could not bring herself to believe that it had all been a mistake. Humanity had survived from the edge of extinction, and fought back to the point where the prosperous future of humankind now appeared assured. Tavalai behaviour toward humanity prior to the Triumvirate War had been appalling. These were not one-eyed twists of history, they were objective facts that even some tavalai had admitted — the Captain had shown her those articles, and the Captain was as even-handed and wise a person as she’d ever known.
But the tavalai were not the krim. They were not even their primary allies, the sard or the kaal. For much of the Spiral’s history, the Captain had also assured her, the tavalai had been a force for good. She’d never liked to fight them, had never taken pleasure in her kills, only a grim satisfaction from the job that had to be done. It had been her great hope that now, with the war over, perhaps humans and tavalai could begin a new conversation, free of posturing and defiance. This was certainly not what she’d envisioned. This was evil. And this evil was perpetuated by those to whom she had unconditionally sworn her life.
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