The last song of the ancestors

Four soldiers were standing at the firing range. They weren't wearing their usual uniforms. They were off duty. They had returned from a dangerous mission abroad to secure Ilu Nla's interests in southern Africa. They were relaxing with a healthy game of target practice.

The leader of the quartet was codenamed Ngare. He was tall, slim and wore long dreadlocks tied with a dark ribbon. He had suggested the competition and the penalty for the loser.

"Whoever makes the lowest score pays for the rounds at the bar."

He was the first to fire. He grabbed a pistol and, with quick movements, shattered his target with several shots to the head and chest. However, his eagerness made him miss a few.

"Damn!"

His subordinates took advantage of the situation to laugh at him, perhaps it was the only chance they had. The only woman in the group put out her hand to take the gun and sneered:

"You're very hot-tempered, boss."

"Don't get carried away, girl."

The second candidate was the military woman codenamed Popo. She was a short woman by army standards. Her hair was dark and straight, shaved at the temples. Her mouth was large with thin lips. Her dark skin and the red bindi on her forehead gave away her Seychellois origins. She reloaded the gun, aimed for a few seconds and unloaded the comb. Her performance was better than Ngare's.

"That's how it's done!"

"Vain as she is…"

The third contestant was a burly man of medium height. His codename was Chandu. With a rotund appearance, he moved with a languor that irritated the others. He made up for this with his outgoing manner. He had short hair, a fat face and expressive eyes, which gave him a friendly appearance.

He pointed the pistol at the target with a whole scene that made his colleagues nervous.

"Go on! Just pull the trigger, Chandu."

"Haste is the enemy of perfection, boss."

Despite all the pressure he received, he performed satisfactorily. With an exultant countenance, he handed over the pistol to the last member.

"Don't soften me up, Popo. Here, Kanjuchi."

"Thanks, I'll try."

The soldier wore an insectoid-looking mask carved from wood with high reliefs. He was skinny, with long, straight hair tied back with a green bow, and had an androgynous appearance. His voice emitted a squeaky, high-pitched echo, as if he were chewing on a beetle. He clumsily picked up the pistol and fired.

He missed half the shots. He stood firm on the outside, but inside he was in tears. He would have a big loss in Credibits. He knew how much his comrades drank. It seemed that their thirsty throats were bottomless wells. He didn't even drink, nor did he know why he had agreed to take part. Chandu approached him, grabbed him around the waist and said:

"Don't pretend like that, my friend. Think of it as an act of charity towards your army colleagues."

"Yeah, it'll quench our thirst for alcohol."

Everyone laughed at Popo's joke, except the despondent Kanjuchi. He hated spending money for nothing.

Suddenly, the door to the shooting range opened. The newcomer, arms folded behind his back, held his chin high. In his modular cybernetic armor, gold with emerald details, he faced the soldiers inside the room.

"Attention, Savage Unit!"

The quartet stood at attention and saluted their superior. Ngare stood at attention and spoke to his commander:

"Permission to rest, General Gahiji."

"Permission granted."

The quartet left their positions and imitated the newcomer by resting their hands behind their backs, legs apart. The general's eyes crossed with each of the soldiers. He looked at the bullet-riddled targets.

"Well done! Even when your off duty, you keep training. Congratulations!"

Chandu bit his lip to keep from laughing. Popo elbowed him in the stomach to get him back on his feet. He was in front of his commander.

"You've had less than two days off. The high command of the Armed Forces demands that my Phalangeta take to the field once again."

Ngare looked at his subordinates. They felt excited, it wasn't going to be just any mission.

"By order of the Supreme Commander of our Armed Forces, the President of the Republic Ojwang, you will carry out the mission of eliminating the Masters of Suspicion."

"At last these criminals have been tracked down, General Gahiji. It will be an honor to take out these traitors to the homeland."

Gahiji approached Ngare. He fixed his gaze on him and said carefully:

"Don't overestimate the capacity of our enemies, Colonel Ngare. I recognize more than anyone your qualities as a soldier, I even drafted you into my Phalangeta. But don't make the mistake of General Jitujeusi."

"With all due respect, General Gahiji, General Jitujeusi is a poisonous snake who envies you. He is paranoid and opportunistic. You magnify our Armed Forces, Jitujeusi only embarrasses us."

"Although I agree with you in kind, number and degree, avoid thinking out loud, Colonel Ngare. In the army, the walls have eyes and ears… Be ready. You'll be boarding a helicopter in thirty minutes."

"Will you go with us?"

"Four phalangets against three dying ex-sages is already disproportionate, imagine if I went with you? I trust the Wild Unit completely. I wish you success in your mission. The coordinates will be sent in your mission report en route. You are dismissed."

In less than thirty minutes, the quartet was already in the hangar. The one who took the longest was Chandu. Unlike the other Phalangets, the Savage Unit didn't wear cybernetic armor or military exoskeletons. Their green and yellow suits were made of multifunctional technological fibers.

In the hangar, a Eurocopter EC 725 Super Cougar aircraft was ready and fueled. Gahiji was there and greeted his subordinates for the last time. The helicopter door closed. It was brought out of the hangar. The aircraft began to blow away wind and dust with its sharp propellers. It reached cruising height and flew towards the Ilu Nla waterfalls.