Barbarians

The eastern world, it is explodin',

Violence flarin', bullets loadin',

You're old enough to kill, but not for votin',

You don't believe in war, but what's that gun you're totin'?

And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin',

But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,

You don't believe we're on the Eve of Destruction.

Barry McGuire - “Eve of Destruction”

“Move it!” Sergeant Vadas shouted, “Up the hill!”

Nassat ran as fast as he could, bounding from one covered position to another, as the enemy rained down fire all around him. Explosions sent dirt and debris flying everywhere, and even as he charged they cut down one of his squad mates, his legs kicking as he thrashed in pain. “Healer!” he howled, hoping one of the medical staff was nearby, but he could do nothing to assist his wounded comrade. They had to take out the enemy guns, for they doomed all of Bravo company.

He risked peering out from the tree he was hiding behind, spotting the trench line the enemy was using for protection. Loading a grenade he carried into the underslung launcher, Nassat took a deep breath, before rolling out and firing. He was up and moving just as the grenade detonated, charging up the steep incline and into the trench, his eyes wild with the adrenal surge his species had evolved to run from predators, not towards them. He stumbled as the dirt gave way beneath his feet, firing even as the other surviving members of his platoon rushed in behind him, adding their fire to his own. The enemy went down hard, taking two more from his team with them before their guns went silent.

“Clear!” Sergeant Vadas called out, as Nassat rose to his feet. He took a position in the trench, inserting a fresh magazine, as he prepared for a counterattack. His chest heaved with exertion, his hands trembling as he sucked water from his canteen, even as he scanned the perimeter for enemy reinforcements. Every part of his body ached as he waited for orders, and he was certain he couldn’t have taken another step if he’d tried. Vadas was also breathing hard, though he was certain she could still get up and run if it were necessary, because of the humans’ freakish stamina.

Looking below he could see the Healers attending to the wounded, their armbands marked with the two intersecting red bars the humans used for medical personnel. Nassat hoped they’d be able to rest before being called upon to take the next objective, but cruel experience had taught him not to get his hopes up. He sighed, taking another drink of water...as a warbling chime emanating from every communication device caught him by surprise.

“Exercise concluded,” the disembodied voice intoned, “Blue Team is the victor.” Nassat glanced down at the blue armband he wore and managed a brief smile. Sergeant Lin had promised them time to stand down and relax if they defeated the Red Team, and as he rose to his feet Sergeant Vadas flashed him a toothy grin.

“You did good, Nassat,” she told him, clapping him on the shoulder, and for once he was too tired to flinch. She had arrived from the human planet a few weeks earlier, along with many others, and had joined their company for the final phase of training. They now held most of the leadership positions in the unit...which was only fitting, as they had much more experience.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” he said, as all the “Dead” and “Wounded” rose to their feet. This battle had been the final culmination of their training, and as he replayed it in his mind it amazed him just how far he had come.

“Well come on then,” she chuckled, as she started down the hill, “I hear they’ve got transportation waiting...and Lin hinted he had a surprise for us.” Nassat stared at her in horror, making her laugh out loud. “Not all surprises are bad,” she snorted, as he followed in her wake.

“If you say so, Sergeant,” he replied, although everything his training had taught him said otherwise.

Sergeant Vadas was as good as her word. Once they’d cleaned and secured their equipment, they loaded the trucks and were taken to a clearing far from the outskirts of their base. Night was falling, and as they neared their objective Nassat could see a huge bonfire, surrounded by tables piled high with food and drink. Humans and Saurotaurs alike mingled nearby, and as they came to a halt he could hear music blaring from some hidden source. It was a tune unknown to him, and when he queried his translator it stated the song was called “When Johnny Comes Marching Home”. There was a jubilant air to the music, and many of the humans were singing along as they disembarked, though it also seemed as if there was an undercurrent of sadness to it.

His people also created music, but the rhythms and scales were very different. A Saurotaur composer worked to create intricate symphonies built to showcase harmonies, the complexity of the work in direct correlation to how well it was received. It was an intellectual exercise, a salute to the mathematical equations involved, but the human song was something far different. It was simple in comparison, and yet there was something about it that drew his attention, eliciting an emotional response as opposed to a mental one. He would have to ask a human about the difference at some point.

Nassat and the others drifted towards the tables, amazed at the wide assortment of food and beverages available. Many were familiar, but there were several varieties alien to him. Human food. He gave a large container of red orbs a tentative sniff, their aroma subtle yet almost devilishly tempting. He chose a fruit at random and bit into its flesh, a broad smile appearing on his face as its sweetness filled his mouth. Perhaps he would sample some of the other varieties the humans had brought, he pondered, as he followed a group of fellow trainees to a table where mugs of dark liquid were being poured from a cask. A group of humans had congregated there, laughing and joking, as he looked at the male filling the mugs. “What is this?” he asked.

The human grinned at him. “Fruit Juice! Sort of,” he laughed, pressing one into his hands. “Well, it started out as grape juice, at least,” he chuckled, but there was something about his tone that made Nassat suspicious. Another wary sniff explained why, as he detected the aroma of fermentation. He would have to be very careful with that, as his species had a low tolerance for alcohol. Judging by some of the antics he was witnessing, he could not say the same for the humans.

He wandered once more, as another song began to play. A simple martial air, this one titled “Over the Hills and Far Away”, which left him somewhat puzzled. Were all human songs about war? The way they gravitated towards conflict, it would not surprise him.

He spotted several humans splitting off and heading into the woods, where he could see another fire in the distance. A sign pointed the way, though the simple word left him puzzled once more. Another query to his translator and he felt ill, forcing him to take a large draught of his juice to settle his stomach. At least the humans had the common decency to locate it elsewhere, though he pitied the curious Saurotaur who discovered what “Bar-B-Q” was the hard way.

The humans filled the air with celebration, and yet he found himself unable to take part. Some of that was because of his own nature. It was unusual for one of his kind to seek solitude, and there were some that thought it to be a pathological condition. It was one reason he had drifted towards a life of contemplation, though he wondered now if he could ever return to the meditations of his former path. His Master’s betrayal had hurt, but even more was the slow realization just how much he had changed over the last few months. The universe looked very different to him now, and Nassat wondered if he would ever find his place within it again.

Assuming the enemy allowed him the opportunity.

Letting out a heavy sigh he turned away from the fire and wandered towards the perimeter. They gathered together in groups, most of his brethren, as was customary, but he felt reluctant to join them. The humans gathered together as well, and sometimes they even intermingled. It was so strange seeing them laugh and smile when he had grown accustomed to being screamed at by them. Once upon a time, he had dismissed their species as being primitive and barbaric, like so many others, but he realized they were far more complex than he had ever given them credit for.

Perhaps I should find a quiet spot to sleep, he thought to himself. They were all behind on that precious commodity, and it seemed a wiser course than moping about. He was about to do just that when he spotted a lone figure gazing into the fire, a female, bearing the Healer armband. It took him a few moments to recognize her...Raichret, a recent addition to the company. He did not know her well, for she too seemed to prefer seclusion from the crowd. Nassat was about to turn away and leave her in peace when something stopped him. Something in her eyes, a stillness, a disquiet, that resonated with his own feelings of unease. Before he realized what he was doing, he moved towards the bonfire and stood beside her.

“Greetings,” he said.

Raichret gazed up at him. “...Nassat, yes?” she asked him. He nodded his assent as she inclined her head. “What do you make of all this?” she asked, waving an arm towards the boisterous crowd.

He shrugged in reply. “I am not sure. It is a pleasant change from training.” Nassat cocked his head as he regarded her. “And you?”

She answered his shrug with one of her own. “I am uncertain as well. I find the crowd to be...overwhelming.”

A new song began playing, this one telling the story of a young female named “Katyusha”...and once again there was a martial element to the tale, though for what reason he was uncertain.

But he understood Raichret’s unease. “So much has happened,” he replied, “that I think all of us are struggling to find where we now belong.”

She froze for a moment, and Nassat feared he had caused some offense. He was preparing an apology when she bobbed her head. “Yes...much has changed,” she whispered. It was as if each word carried the gravity of a thousand suns, and a part of him wished to inquire as to the reason, but something stopped him. A sense perhaps, that she was not yet ready to offer an explanation.

A change in topic was in order. “What did you think of the exercise?” he asked her.

She took a moment to consider her response. “I think we would lose, without the humans,” she told him. “We could never have come so far, without their help.”

That was the truth. “I had never known a human, before,” Nassat admitted, “and I cannot say I know them now...but I agree, there is much they can teach us. Is it not written that Truth can be found in the unlikeliest of places?”

Raichret looked at him. “You were an Acolyte, were you not? Before, I mean.”

“I was, yes,” he told her.

She turned away, gazing back into the flames. “Do you think you will return to that life? After?”

That was a question he had often been asking himself, as of late. “I do not know,” he whispered, as he too stared into the fire...though he suspected neither of them were finding the answers they sought there.

“Ah…there you are,” they heard behind them. Nassat and Raichret both startled at the unexpected intrusion, turning to see Drill Sergeant Lin standing there, a large mug of juice in his hand. “You did a hell of a job today, Nassat,” he grinned, as the two of them both snapped to attention.

“Thank you, Drill Sergeant!” Nassat barked out in reply, as Lin laughed, spilling some of his drink. “Knock it off, both of you,” he told them. “You’re not Recruits anymore. You graduated. So eat, drink, and be merry!” he roared, raising his mug in salute, “for tomorrow we may…”

His voice trailed off into silence. “…never mind,” he mumbled.

Nassat stared at him in shock. This was nothing like the human he had lived in fear of since that very first day. “Are you…all right, Drill Sergeant?” he asked.

A new song began playing in the background...a mournful lament titled “Danny Boy”.

“Just taking part in an ancient human tradition,” he told them, as he pointed to the mug Nassat held in his own hand. “I see you are as well.” His eyes drifted over to Raichret, as a knowing smile appeared on his face. “You kids should have fun,” he chuckled. “That’s part of the tradition, too.”

Nassat looked at him in confusion. “What tradition, Drill Sergeant?”

A cloud seemed to pass over Lin’s face. “Wine, food...companionship,” he explained, turning away.

“...a condemned man always gets a feast,” he whispered...before disappearing into the darkness.