Barbarians

Here comes the rain again

Falling from the stars

Drenched in my pain again

Becoming who we are

As my memory rests

But never forgets what I lost

Wake me up when September ends

Green Day - “Wake Me Up When September Ends”

The mood was a somber one aboard the flagship Zaaronq as an officer escorted Nassat to Admiral Fujimoto’s quarters. The news from Earth had hit the humans hard, and now more than ever he feared their response to this latest calamity. It took little imagination on his part to place himself in their position...all it required, in fact, was to recall his beloved wife’s response when they had discovered the bodies of her family.

The human officer acting as his guide had spoken little during their brief journey from the shuttle docking bay, restricting himself to only the barest of formalities. Nassat wanted to enquire of him the nature of his summons, as the message itself had been maddeningly cryptic. But the lieutenant might as well have been carved from stone, and the attempt to engage him further died on his lips. Perhaps he was one of the xenophobic minority though as this latest war progressed their ranks seemed to swell with every new attack.

What will become of the Tetrarchy, if they view all aliens as a threat, and not merely the Khonhim? he wondered. It was a disturbing thought, for if the humans broke with old Triumvirate races…

They came to a halt in front of the Admiral’s quarters, interrupting his thoughts. The lieutenant pressed an icon on the keypad, announcing, “General Nassat, Ma’am.” He came to attention as the door slid open, acknowledging his nod of gratitude as he made his way inside.

Someone had dimmed the lights within, and for a moment Nassat found himself disoriented, until as his eyes adjusted he could make out a dim glow at the far end of the cabin. An unusual scent filled the air as if something was set aflame, and as he moved closer he spotted the Admiral kneeling before a burning candle, a smoldering reed at its side.

“...Nassat,” she whispered, not lifting her head. “Join me.”

He moved to her side, folding his legs beneath him, as he inspected the woman beside him. She wore a simple black robe of some form, in a style unfamiliar to him, though even he could tell it was exquisitely made. It was the first time he had seen her in any attire other than her uniform, though they had worked well together over the years, theirs was a professional relationship, and nothing more. Other than Sergeant Lin there were few humans he could call friend...and fewer still that would return the sentiment.

“You wished to speak with me, Admiral?” he asked, not wishing to interrupt the contemplative setting.

“I did,” she replied, still not looking in his direction. “Before the last war, you were a priest, were you not? A kannushi?”

Nassat blinked at the odd term, though this was not the first time a human had asked this question of him. “I was, yes...an Acolyte, to be specific,” he replied.

She nodded at the confirmation. “Tell me...do you still practice your faith? Do you still believe?”

Considering the tone of their previous encounter, this was the last question he would have expected to hear her ask. “...I do,” he said at last. “It has not been easy, but I still believe.”

Admiral Fujimoto repositioned her body so she could face him, gazing into his eyes. “Tell me of it...your faith, I mean. What do you believe? How do you express your faith?”

Few humans had ever asked him that. “We believe that there is a balance, in all things,” he answered, after collecting his thoughts. “A purpose. It is our duty to seek this purpose, and learn what it asks from each of us. For an Acolyte, it means spending much of your time in quiet contemplation and studying the gathered wisdom of our people. It is a...simple life. One that appealed to me, when I was...well...before,” he finished with an awkward shrug.

She cocked her head as she regarded him. “I believe my father would have liked you,” she told him, as a ghost of a smile crossed her lips, only to disappear. “He too was a man of faith...a faith similar to yours, in fact.” She looked away, staring at something only she could see. “His greatest regret was that I did not share it.”

“Perhaps...that was not your Path,” he said quietly. “I cannot speak to your father’s beliefs, but if they are comparable to my own, then he would have understood that each of our journeys are a solitary one and that no two are ever alike. Even if you do not share his faith now, you may come to share it. In time.”

Hélène seemed to consider that for a moment and then shook her head. “Somehow...I doubt that,” she said, as she snuffed out the candle with her fingers. “But then we will never know.” She rose to her feet, as Nassat did the same. “Seeing how my father was in Kyoto when the Khonhim attacked.”

Nassat felt his breath catch in his chest, as everything fell into place. He bowed his own head, crossing his arms. “...my very deepest condolences,” he said.

She barely acknowledged his words, waving them away as she extinguished the smoldering reed. “I have spent hours trying to find some solace, attempting to embrace the rituals of my youth,” she snapped, “but all I feel is rage.” She spun on her heel, turning to face him. “I can only assume the Khonhim understand nothing of humanity,” she spit out, “or it could be they just have a death wish...because everything they do seems calculated to bring out the very worst in us.” The smile he had seen reappeared, but this time it was dark and twisted...a thing to be feared. “At every turn, they have taken something from me, and I for one have had enough.” Her hands clenched and unclenched in her fury as if she was moments away from taking out her anger on him.

Nassat vividly recalled another conversation, one that now sounded almost prophetic. When Minister Singh and Marshal Antuma had hijacked his life, and the life of his spouse...all the while claiming that they needed him:

“The thing is, we have a lot in common with the Khonhim...too much, in fact,” Marshal Antuma said. “Now that we are creating a military again, after all these years, there will be those who will want to use it...and what better enemy to test our mettle against than them? It wouldn’t take much to set us off either...and if that happens, all bets are off. We could end up destroying everything we’ve worked so hard to achieve...unless there is someone who belongs to neither camp who can act as mediator.” A dry chuckle passed his lips. “Someone civilized to keep the two barbarian tribes from slaughtering each other.”

Nassat felt ill, as realization slammed into him. It had been too much to ask of him even then, but that predicted moment had finally arrived. They had chosen him to be the voice of reason in the dark times to come...and despite Raichret’s warning, he knew he could no longer stand by and let this abomination go on.

He stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her dark eyes flashed with savage violence, but as he once had on the battlefield...Nassat stood his ground.

“Admiral…Hélène...” he said, using her given name for the first time in his life, “this is not the way. I understand your anger, for I have felt it as well, but repaying atrocity with atrocity will only end in the destruction of your own people.” Her face contorted in vehemence, but Nassat plunged ahead. “And even if humanity manages to survive, it will only be as a twisted mutation, a dark mirror to what I know your race can be...if only you can step back from your hate.”

But his words fell upon deaf ears. “How dare you!” she thundered. “You say that to me, after what we’ve suffered?”

“You are not alone in your agony,” he said. “I know all too well what you are now feeling, but…” He froze, fumbling for the right words, before finally closing his eyes and bowing his head.

“...this is not what Kwasi would have wanted,” he whispered.

“Get out,” she hissed, as her fire turned to glacial ice. “Don’t think for a moment you can dissuade me from seeing justice done.”

“This is not justice,” he protested, “but vengeance.”

“...like there’s a difference,” she snorted, turning her back on him. “By the time I’m done...the only place the Khonhim language will be uttered will be in Hell.”