TOW74

Chapter 74 - The Other War
West of Port Logan, Wadi Tsagaan(Baatar)
Babylon, Pentagon Worlds (Clan Space)
August 18th, 3063
----
[47 km West of Port Logan, Wadi Tsagaan(Baatar)]
Tarin Al’Hajid stood watch over the herd of Tallasi his family had been hired to tend. They quietly grazed on the new green growth fed by the powerful Shoshi’i Monsoon rains still sweeping over parts of Eastern Valence. The deluge had flooded the Wadi until it was almost neck deep in places and a half full Ur reflected in the still waters of the pool. Their owner was a wealthy Merchant from Port Logan they had met during the First Rain Festival last month. He seemed nice enough paying the family fairly and helping his father with his leg injury using some of the Clan medicine that had saved him from the Goliath Scorpion venom.
He skipped rocks across the pond and wondered what became of the friendly lady that had given him the antivenom which he was told was very expensive. She must have been very rich to offer him such a gift that he could never repay. On a few occasions he had seen her walking around with the Shiekh’s wives with more jewelry then when she arrived.
“Maybe she was a princess and married the Sheikh. I hope he treats her as well as dad treats mom.”
The Tallasi started getting antsy and making their warning grunts, bulls stomped and made a ruckus toward the disturbance speeding across the water. From his perch he could not make out shapes. However, the terrifying whistling sound coming from that direction that echoed off canyon walls he knew. “Shayatin!”
Whistle in hand he ran toward the small tent hamlet that had grown up between the six families working their herds near Wadi Tsagaan. Others positioned elsewhere raced back as the once quiet area was filled with piercing whistles and the shouts of men and older boys marshaling themselves to arms. As they neared Tarin saw the demon's eyes lit up with a fire that chilled his blood. Their chariots moved impossibly fast across the flat, waterlogged wadi on chariots creating great V-shaped forms of mist behind them that reached into the sky.
Kaskans boomed over the canyon their rifle reports momentarily overwhelming the roaring chariots and shouts filling the night with orange. The craft zig zagged to avoid the semi-auto weapons before returning fire with thunder of their own. Canisters filled with fire and steel landed amongst the tents currently being evacuated, bright flashes of white propelled metal darts into flesh striking down defenders not swift enough to gain good cover.
Without pause the faceless but red eyed demons rode around the tents. Black metal chariots momentarily lit up by the growing flames sped forward, the ill wind behind them fanning the flames to greater heights. Rather than stop and continue engaging some demons rushed forward grabbing women and older girls caught in the open into the vehicles right off their feet. These sped back across the wadi toward a lumbering barge seemingly suspended in air painted in grotesque runes that glowed under moonlight. Others zoomed back gliding along the sand like a falcon on the hunt, another round of fire and thunder rung out and the Kaskans quieted after the Shayatin sped back across the wadi causing a stampede of Tallasi away from the terrifyingly noisy creatures.
Tarin finally made it back to the camp with the others who formed a bucket brigade to save their tents from the hellfire inferno threatening to take even more from them. Babylon’s fearsome winds picked up as the Shayatin departed. 
----
August 20th, 3063
“There was nothing we could do but collect your herds, bury our father, and count the missing including our mother.” 
Jenna said all this through tearful eyes as she and Tarin looked up at Senior Merchant Hav'an who looked toward his other guest. A man, looking slightly older than the Merchant, with a metal hand that seemed to fascinate the other teenage boy that cross-legged next to him. Havan gave them both a hug, “I am sorry you had to live through that child. I will do what I can to help you.”  He sent them away with his son to join the others gathering in the courtyard.
Now alone with the older Warrior who looked slightly out of place in the house of a Merchant he stood and stepped onto the balcony looking over the courtyard filled with sad eyed nomads and up to the waning moon. “Can you help these people Colonel Irons?”
The square-jawed Colonel joined him on the walk his Camlaan Arsenal garrison cover blowing in the wind. “Not alone. I would need a larger and better equipped unit. Light mechanized hover infantry with a Buffalo mothership and more modern weapons,” the Warrior looked over to a tripod stack of the locally made Kaskan rifles, “then these Dark Caste. They wouldn’t stand a chance; it will be more slaughter.”
“You looked into the eyes of those children and heard their pain Colonel. You can’t dismiss them as mere Dark Caste unworthy of a Warrior’s attention except at the barrel of a gun. They have done nothing to deserve their status but be born in the wrong circumstance. Something you are intimately familiar with, quiaff?”
Star Colonel Seth Irons did know, he had lost his unit command due to the political machinations of the Star Adder’s Galaxy Commanders on trumped up charges. For a supposedly open-minded Clan they had long resented his existence let along his competence at turning Freeborns into worthy Warriors because he knew the struggles and could connect with them. 
Each Trial victory his Freeborns earned over their vatborn counterparts threatened their supposed supremacy and ‘perfection.’ He was effectively pushed out of the Clan to the only open-minded Clan that would listen to what he was saying, Clan Diamond Shark, which despite their contributions to the Clan Warrior Eugenics program was more interested in results and had a sudden need for reliable and competent Freeborn Warriors to garrison the Chainelaine Colonies.
“I cannot do it alone nor can I use the Arsenal cadets. It will take too long to mount a counter-attack without more proper Warriors.”
A Broadsword burned out of the nighttime sky toward Port Logan’s rough sandy airstrip with 23rd Air Assault Cluster markings. Slowly cutting through the Shoshi’i straits Magnus Ghost and his fireteam waited to complete the five-hour ferry trip to Port Logan from Camlaan. Their Rhino suits waited in the cargo bay under guard. 
Just in case they were needed.
----------
Previous Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter
Category:The Other War Chapters
Category:Works by AlphaMirage