Just before Zahra's eighteenth birthday the Blood Elves had raided the planet. Named for their resemblance to the creatures of fantasy literature the Elves were an ancient race harking from long before humanity had made their first expeditions outside of the Sol system.
An enigmatic race they hadn't exactly welcomed humans into the galaxy as a whole. Keeping quiet about the schisms within their own people the elves didn't even warn of the perils humanity could face from them. The younger race eventually worked out that the elves were divided into different clans, each with their own take on pretty much everything. It had taken a lot more time and casualties than necessary for the people from Earth to realise this. As was their wont the humans classified these different clans according to their perceived characteristics. The Wood Elves were very nature orientated, and were the least interested in any contact with outsiders. The Fire Elves got their name from their preferences for wearing yellow, orange and red clothing. These were the most open to trade, though not exactly welcoming.
The Sea Elves had become amphibious, even going so far as to develop gills. Living on water worlds they were the most curious about humans, but with no need to trade they had given the humans some water purification technology, but had declined any diplomatic entreaties.
Worst though were the Blood Elves. Initially introducing themselves as "Of the blood" and seemingly the most welcoming of the elven clans their true nature quickly became apparent. These were pirates and raiders. Initially only attacking merchant ships they soon move on to raiding habited planets. Not for technology or precious items, but for people. Seeming to appear from nowhere there were never any survivors from one of their raids. Never leaving their own dead behind, only the humans'. Once their raids were complete they would collect any of their own dead and any broken equipment and these would be spirited away, along with any living humans. Never to be seen or heard of again. The bodies left behind were always brutally mutilated. Forensic checks showed that while a lot of this was post-mortem, a number of the deceased had obviously died from these ministrations.
An earlier, lucky satellite image had been the breakthrough in the mystery of where they came from. A distortion was shown at the head of a short valley in the hills two hundred kilometres north east of the planet's capital, New Geneva. Elven raiders in black and purple were seen gathered in front of it, preparing to raid any local homesteads they could find. And find them they had. Seventeen people died that day, and twenty six, including children, had disappeared. Never to be seen again.
Initially the planetary guard had stationed observation posts and detection equipment throughout the valley. However, the soldiers and equipment just disappeared. So a fort was built, Fort Coleman, after the governor, just outside the valley. Manned by a platoon of guard at all times it was supposed to be an early warning / delaying post. In the event of another raid the troops were to hunker down and call for help.
When the next raid did come, there was no warning from the fort. Just silence. Suspicious of the silence a patrol fighter was sent to investigate. Only to find the fort destroyed. Radioing back this information the pilot also managed half of a Mayday before she too went silent.
Zahra was at work when the news came through. The whole place just stopped and stared at the news report. Thirty five men and women had been stationed there and all the news chopper could see was ruins and bodies.
The report had gone on for an hour, with Zahra glued to the screen. Even though she had little love for her father now, he was still her father and his loss would devastate the rest of the family.
At some point she realised that Tia had appeared and was standing with her arms around her.
Then the news came through that somehow somebody had survived. Badly wounded and crushed under the debris of the central tower the bloodied body of Captain Wellson, her father, had been found and was being rushed to the medical centre.
Zahra did not know whether to be relieved or upset at this.
Valna'a Nightshade had just returned from her first hunt. She had trained for this for three years and it had been glorious. Assigned as a scout / sniper she had been one of the first ones onto the planet. As a scout, she had a small, personal gate that could take her and one other to this feeding world and back. Actually she had two. A veteran had recommended she carry a spare in case of damage during combat.
Appearing just to one side of the gate she quickly engaged her holo-suit and signal jammer and crouched down to observe the scene. Her optics showed the positions of her team, even though they were effectively invisible to the naked eye.
Once give the permission by her squad leader she had moved, with her team to the end of the valley, looking for the scouts and sensors the cattle had left on guard the last couple of raids.
Unable to spot anything Valna'a was getting worried that she was somehow failing in her mission - not a recommended situation - until she heard her leader confirm that the valley was empty.
Then, when they got to the head of the valley they saw the ugly blob of plascrete that was Fort Coleman. It was all Valna'a could do to not laugh at the sight. The main building was small and squat with a central tower, that looked to have a large gun on it. Surrounding the building were five walls shaped like a pentagon with smaller towers at each corner. These towers also had fixed guns, though even less impressive that the one atop the main tower. Along the top of the walls she could see cattle, armed with their assault rifles. Weapons she had been admonished to treat with respect. While not as good as her people's weapons they could still pierce her armour, just not as easily as her rifle would penetrate theirs.
Signalling, sub-vocally, to her team leader that she had spotted the enemy she waited for him to share her helmet view. Once linked she passed on the information she had gathered so far as to what lay ahead, though she had to admit that she could only see the obvious defences and had failed to spot any concealed ones.
Relief flooded her system when her leader pointed out that she had failed to spot any hidden defences as there weren't any. It might be her first mission but any failure would be severely punished. Her clan believing that punishment for failure was the best teaching aid. That and their general enjoyment in hurting others.
A few moments later her squad leader notified the team that the plan for the raid had been modified and that these, unfortunate, soldiers would make today's quota. Her job, now, was to keep an eye on one of the lesser fixed guns and to shoot any cattle that attempted to use it against the flyers that would soon be unleashed.
Lining up her sights on her designated gun position she could feel the vibrations in the air as the near silent attack rolled in.
In the distance the alarm was raised and the cattle ran to their posts to try and defend themselves, at a speed that actually impressed the young elf. Thirty five cattle against thirty raiders. This wasn't even going to be close.
The she saw her designated gun swivel as some brave fool tried to line it up on the jet bikes that were weaving around at over a hundred kilometres an hour.
Lining her victim up she put three super sonic disks of sharpened dilium through the creature's upper arm. Watching with glee as it sliced the arm clean off, just above the elbow. The man stared at the stump for a moment, in disbelief, before disappearing from view.
Valna'a hoped he would live. A wounded creature could be taken home, a dead one would be left. More to the point she would get a red raider marker rather than a black (all targets killed) or white one (no victims).
With the heavier defences disabled the skimmers and fliers moved in. The fliers launched nets, that were both weighted and adhesive, into the chaos below. Trapping cattle unharmed ready for transport home.
The one man skimmers were there to cause even more confusion amongst the enemy, throwing blind grenades (a mixture of smoke and electronic interference) , stun grenades ( a mix of very loud noise and flashing lights) and knock-out gas grenades.
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In no time at all the battle was over and the scouts were called in to check their handiwork. Rushing to her gun Valna'a found the severed arm and a spray of blood, but no body. Her target survived. The heat from the disc probably cauterising the wound. She would get the red badge. Made sweeter by the fact that her repulsive brother did not get a red badge until his fifth raid.
All raid badges earned before you got a red were worn on the right hand side of the helmet as a badge of 'distinction' until you got a red: The mark of the warrior. Once you got your red, you stopped adding badges. It was a sign of how quickly you contributed to the clan’s needs. Her brother, Korsephan, would forever (well until she killed him) have to wear white, white, black, white, red. Valna'a would only ever have a single red raid badge. After that, one was not required always to get a victim, as some roles in the raid rarely did.
Digging her discs out of the fort's wall, to keep as a memento, she picked up the severed arm and joined the rest of the raid in the fort's central courtyard as they surveyed their haul.
In the open ground in the middle of the fort were three groups of humans, as they called themselves. The smaller group lay still, even though people were carving their names into their flesh. These were the fortunate. The dead.
Next to them were the ruined. These were alive, but too badly damaged to be worth taking home. These were screaming in agony as the more vicious warriors put their hands into the wounds pulling out flesh and organs, while other carved away at the flesh. They would die soon and be left behind for their herd mates to discover.
The larger group were the haul. Those healthy enough to be useful back home. Including a scared young male who was holding the stump of a recently amputated arm.
"I think you dropped this," she said, to her victim holding out his severed arm. The creature looked back at her horrified as the people watching burst out laughing at the poor unfortunate's expense. Saphin, her squad leader, also laughing, took the arm off her. "I don't think he wants it anymore." he quipped.. He then took out his viciously shaped knife and cut off the seared end. Placing the now bloody stump against her helmet he added. "You got your red."
"Enough celebrating for now." called out the raid leader, a particularly nasty piece of work called, Tashin Soulreaver. "We need to get these creatures prepped ready to take them to their new lives."
The raiders cheered.
"Healers prep them."
The raid's healers took out learning caps from their packs. These devices resembled swimming caps, made of a type of metallic cloth and covering the back, top and sides of the head, a number of electrodes stuck out on the inside and were wired up to a small flat surface on the top of the cap. Each healer had two of these, so eight cattle were dragged to their feet, any headgear removes and then caps fitted. Once fitted the healer would place a small red box on the top of the cap and press the single black button on it.
Valna'a was pleased to see her target was one of the first to get the treatment.
Once the button was pressed, the victim would let out a blood-curdling scream and collapse into the arms of the guards holding him / her. The guards would wait for the healer to remove the box and the cap and just let the creature fall. Looking after the cattle's wellbeing was not part of their job description.
Once all twenty-three survivors had had been through the ordeal the raid leader addresses them in the language of the people.
"You now belong to us. You will remain our property until we release you, or you die.
"You will note that you can understand me, as I speak to you in our language. As you can understand it, you can also speak it. You will never speak any other language but ours, while in our custody. Failure to comply means... "
With that two guards grabbed one of the prisoners and forced her mouth open. Tashin grabbed hold of her tongue, pulled it out as far as it would go and then sliced it lengthways down the middle.
"First offence gets your tongue sliced. Second gets it removed."
Wiping the poor woman's blood off his blade onto her tunic, he turned back to the prisoners.
"When we leave this wretched place you will walk calmly and quietly to where we direct you. Any deviance or attempt to escape..."
This time he drew his pistol and shot the woman in the knee, disintegrating her patella. "Keep trying and you lose the whole leg."
"Patch her up." Tashin said to one of the healers. "She's useless dead."
"You." He said pointing to a larger than average man. "You can carry her through he gate. Be aware that if you try and run, it counts as her trying it too."
"Now, which one of you was in charge of this pathetic... thing?" He asked the twenty-three human survivors gesturing to the useless fort.
No one spoke, but enough eyes flickered towards an older man, to tell him all he needed to know. The man stood towards the back of the collection of cattle, a mixture of horror and terror on his face. Unlike the other prisoners he wore no uniform top, only the undershirt, as though to hide his rank. Addressing the man Tashin spoke.
"You will tell us everything you know about your defences."
"Yes Sir," Was the quivering reply. Then rushing as though he was trying to get his words out before he was forcibly stopped:
"Though, if I may make a suggestion, Sir. I could be more use to you here. I am quite a senior officer and will have access to future defence plans and will be able to get the schematics for the fort that replaces this one."
The shouts of anger and dismay from his fellow prisoners pleased Tashin.
"Check his tracker is working then let him go."
"Betray us and the suffering these creatures suffer will be as nothing to the torment I will inflict on you." He said, pointing to the now still bodies of the Ruined.
"Raid Leader." Piped up Valna'a. "If you just let him go the others might suspect something."
"What do you suggest?" Snapped back Tashin.
Ignoring the threat in her boss' voice, Valna'a looked around.
"If we destroy this dump, we can leave him buried under some rubble and he can pretend that we missed him in our exuberance."
Tashin's mood switched to amused again and he pointed at the central tower.
"Put the rat in that and drop it on him. If he survives, he can work for us. If he doesn't ..." An evil grin. ".. May his death be slow and painful."
As two guards dragged the screaming, crying officer away, Tashin called after him.
"An agent will contact you. You will cooperate!"
Once back in their own lands the Valna'a got her red raid badge, though it had a blue border, signifying she had done something exceptional.
That was probably less to do with her suggestion for the prisoner and more to piss of her much despised brother. After all Tashin had spoken to Korsephan in the past, and anyone who met him despised Valna'a's egotistical brother
Zahra's father's near death experience hadn't improved his attitude to life. If anything, it had made it worse. Often there would be days where he would just go out to the wastelands by himself and not talk to anybody all day. Initially Zahra's brother, Justin, had offered to spend such days with him, but their father always refused. When Justin had pushed the issue their Jacob had raised his fist, as though to hit him, before storming off.
Diagnosed with PTSD Jacob Wellson had initially been offered an early, medical, retirement, but had vehemently refused any such offer. Impressed by his loyalty and determination to continue serving he was then promoted and moved to a desk job in the military where he didn't need to interact with people too often and was free to scout out areas around the new base.
His attitude to his eldest daughter deteriorated as well. Instead of the cordial, if cool, relationship he now seemed actively hostile: ignoring her during family conversations and excluding her from family activities. Even going so far to insist she make her own way to temple on Sundays. However, he still demanded she go.
Fortunately, for the young woman, she had only a few months left in the house before she got to leave for college. Though that in itself was not as simple as she hoped. Without her parent's support there was no way she could afford to put herself through further education, and while her predicted grades were more than good enough to get her into her region's premiere university, Waterside, they were not good enough to get her a scholarship. Therefore Zahra had been forced to apply to look for an alternate way of funding her.
She settled on joining the ROTC program at New Virginia College. A military initiative where the army would pay her college fees and accommodation. In return Zahra would have to serve in the military, full time, for a length of time equal to the time spent on her degree and the same again in the reserves. Her four year bachelors course would require an eight year commitment afterwards. Anything after that would have to be funded from her four-year military salary. Being stuck on this planet until she was thirty-nine, to get a doctorate was unthinkable.
ROTC had the added advantage that she could spend some or all of her breaks with the military and not have to go home.
Initially the plan had been to spend this time with Tia's family, but college changed both girls. Zahra had to study both for her course and for her ROTC commitments while Tia, having got into Waterside, quickly became immersed in the traditional college life for freshmen. The two girls drifted apart, and though they would meet up occasionally, it was as 'friends with benefits' between Tia's girl and boyfriends.