They had brought only their fastest troops, and they had made good time, but they were still too late. Sub-Commander Ga-Ree of the forward scouts brought the bad news to Commaner Ba-Nee. He raised a finger in salute.
“The Cezaltiuntare are here, and have already issued a Challenge to the natives.”
“The Cezaltiuntare?” Commander Ba-Nee snorted. “They were the Preparateurs. System only knows what bribes they paid to stay on as Participants. Well, it may be to our advantage. We can let them wear themselves out in combat, then Challenge the victor before they recover. I want a full report on both forces. Numbers, positions, and whatever you can gauge of their capabilities.”
“Yessir.” Ga-Ree saluted again and hurried to comply.
The native garrison was an open space with just a few flimsy single-storied shelters which mostly looked to be made of fabric. The bulk of the Cezaltiuntare forces were keeping their distance and could be easily surrounded without getting close to the natives. That puzzled Ga-Ree. There were better positions closer in. He picked a small unit to scout closer, and began to see why the Cezaltiuntare might be so wary. Cezaltiuntare bodies lay just outside the garrison, their faces twisted into expressions of horror and fear.
Creeping in, G-Ree's unit came across a similar Cezaltiuntare unit, scouts like his own. He was pleased to spot Squad Leader Raekn in charge. Raekn was a self-serving, boastful little thief, which put him several steps above the rest of the treacherous, backstabbing, sweet-tongued sycophants. The two units eyed each other suspiciously until Raekn returned Ga-Ree’s nod, and then they all hunkered down to watch.
Ga-Ree glanced across the garrison space. Most of the natives were gathered in the central, open area. They seemed to come in a great variety of sizes, ranging from a little taller than the Cezaltiuntare to much smaller. The larger ones generally surrounded the smaller ones, keeping them well away from the small Cezaltiuntare group who had entered the garrison to issue the Challenge. Ga-Ree wondered if the natives had some sort of biological caste system, with a bigger soldier type and a smaller sized caste that filled support roles like medical services and supply of food and ammunition. A more obviously formal group stood in front of the larger native gathering, and in front of that were just a few figures, standing together.
The Cezaltiuntare had sent in a Champion to issue and carry out a formal Challenge. Ga-Ree thought it typical of them, keeping anyone of any real rank well out of danger. The Champion was one of their genetic manipulations, considerably taller and bulkier than their normal slight build. He was flanked by an honour guard of two slightly smaller versions like himself and two unaltered Cezaltiuntare. Ga-Ree found himself pleased to see that one or two of the natives matched the Champion in impressive size. It was not one of these giants who faced the Champion directly now, although one of them was among the honour-guard of the native identified as Commander Neil Munro. The Commander and his guard all wore similar clothing or armour, of strange appearance and disturbing patterning.
Ga-Ree leaned closer to Raekn so he could keep his voice quiet. “What armour are the natives wearing? It hurts my eyes to look at it.”
“It’s not what they wear you need to worry about, it’s their weapons.” Raekn pointed to two figures that Ga-Ree had barely registered, the criss-cross pattern of their garb causing his eyes to slide away from them. They stood isolated to either side, carrying contraptions formed of several tubes. The strain of just looking at them meant that it took Ga-Ree several moments more to spot the bag that the tubes were attached to, which were of a similar colouring.
“Those weapons did… that?” Ga-Ree pointed to the nearest cluster of Cezaltiuntare bodies.
“ONE of them did that,” Raekn replied with a shudder.
They both fell silent as the Autotranslate brought them the words of the native Commander and the Cezaltiuntare who faced him. Ga-Ree Identified some more of the natives as they talked.
[Commander Neil Munro]
[Level Five Translation Failed]
[Alignment: Haldoun Highlanders]
[Weaknesses: None]
[FergusTaylor57]
[Level Three Translation Failed]
[Alignment: Haldoun Highlanders]
[Weaknesses: None]
[DavidCanmoreTheStrong]
[Level Eight Warrior]
[Alignment: Haldoun Highlanders]
[Weaknesses: None]
[<”My land, my rules,”>] the Commander was saying, [<”You want to Challenge me, you do that. You want to fight in place of your Commander, then that has been allowed before and so I will allow it now. The fight will be a duel. Just two fighters, no others. The fight will continue until one of the fighters surrenders, or dies. That determines which side wins and which side loses, this day. And it is the one who is Challenged who chooses the weapons.”>]
The Champion turned and looked back across towards the Cezaltiuntare side. There must have been some signal, because he then nodded acceptance to the native Commander.
Commander Neil Munro was not finished. [<”And after this fight, what happens to the one who loses?”>]
"None of them are even a level ten. The Champion will crush them!" Ga-Ree whispered. "But they have a weapon that will take out a whole unit?"
"They're way stronger than they ought to be at their level," Raekn answered.
The Cezaltiuntare Champion still had not answered the Commander's question. It was one of the ordinary Cezaltiuntare with him who eventually spoke. “Everyone loyal to them is enslaved by the winner.”
[<”Or?”>]
“Or they all die.”
[<”Or?”>]
The Cezaltiuntare looked puzzled.
[”When you lose, either you all become our slaves, or you all die? Those are your only options?”>]
The Champion’s laughter drowned out that of his honour guard. The thought that he might lose was clearly a joke.
[<”Humour me,”>] the native Commander said, dryly.
“If a Participant ever loses, they can choose to return home,” the nondescript Cezaltiuntare replied once he stopped chuckling.
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[<”And where is home?”>]
The same Cezaltiuntare squinted at a device in his hand, then up at the sky. “In that direction.”
The native commander made a slow nodding gesture with his head. [<”Well enough. Do you accept the terms?”>]
The Champion rolled his shoulders. “I’m ready when you are, Commander. Name your weapon.”
Commander Neil Munro turned to his guard and took from one of them a long, silver rod with an ornamental bulge at one end. He lifted it in the air as he faced the Champion.
[
Ga-Ree carefully repeated the strange, alien sounds. “Ba-ton-tuer-ling?”
“I do not have this weapon,” the Champion snarled angrily.
The Commander remained as calm as a still day, calling across the open space, [<”Does anyone have a spare Translation Failed?”>]
Ga-Ree watched as the larger group of natives muttered amongst themselves. It parted a little. He saw one of the average-sized natives arguing with one of the smaller ones, voice raised in audible distress. Finally the smaller native ran forward, carrying a long silver rod with a pale bulge at each end. She was identified as EmmaTheTwirlerOfTheYear in her ID tag. The Commander thanked her, took the Ba-Ton, and offered it to the Champion.
The Champion drew himself taller with indignant fury, sneering at the stick now in his hand. “You would give me a CHILD’S weapon?”
Ga-Ree drew a quick breath and looked again at the natives, reassessing them. He’d assumed this was a military garrison. He’d assumed these were all adult natives who just happened to have a great variety of sizes. Now he looked again at how they stood, formed themselves, carried themselves, and he realised that the smallest were not adults, not soldiers. They were children. There were infants, carried in the arms of their carers. This wasn’t a garrison, this was their home. His force had been planning to attack whole families.
Aghast, he did what he should have done as soon as he was within range, and activated the Identify specialism that made him a scout unit leader.
[Faction: Haldoun Highlanders]
[Commander: Neil Munroe]
[Government: Tribal]
[Strength: ??]
[Military Assets: Progenitor Prime 2, Progenitor Skill 2]
[Capital: Halddoun]
Ga-Ree gulped. Two Primes AND two entirely new, and therefore unknown, skills? A strength level his own skill was too low to assess? And this was a family group, not a dedicated military! Just what were these natives? His attention snapped back to the meeting of natives and Cezaltiuntare because the Commander moved, leaning down a little. He first spoke quietly to the child, EmmaTheTwirlerOfTheYear, who ran off back towards the crowd. What he said was too faint for the Autotranslate to pick up, but the next words were clear.
[<”You are right, of course. That would not be fair.”>] The Commander turned his head towards the larger native group. Ga-Ree saw the child returning once again, still running, this time bringing to the Commander another of the smaller Ba-Tons. The Commander patted her on the shoulder, once more spoke to her too quietly to be heard, then calmly looked back at the Champion. [<”You will face her instead.”>]
The silence was so complete that Ga-Ree wondered if he’d gone deaf. The natives were clearly as shocked as the Cezaltiuntare and his own squad. Commander Neil Munro took his own, large, silver Ba-Ton, paced forward and used it to score two lines into the ground, divided by a distance five or six times the length of one of the Ba-Tons. [<”Our Champion stays on this side of this line. Yours stays on that side of that line. You must be no closer than that, or you forfeit the duel.”>]
Ga-Ree had assumed a Ba-Ton was some sort of short staff or bludgeoning weapon, something to hit an opponent with. The distance meant he must be wrong. It was for use at range. The Cezaltiuntare Champion obviously had the same thought because he started examining his Ba-Ton as though looking for a trigger or activation switch. The Commander had not finished, however.
[<”TRANSLATION FAILED should have TRANSLATION FAILED.”>] The Commander gestured towards one of the natives with the tube-and-bag weapons. The Cezaltiuntare immediately protested. The Commander seemed ready to argue about it, but the native child selected as Champion tugged at him and started to speak to him, quietly but urgently. Then she once more ran off towards the crowd of natives, where a further, noisier argument ensued. Finally a group of natives came back with their Champion, a mix of both children and adults. Their Commander went to speak with them. Ga-Ree wished the Autotranslate could cope better. He was getting only a scattering of words, and they were not enough for him to properly understand what was going on.
[EmmaTheTwirlerOfTheYear]
[Level Two Child]
[Alignment: Haldoun Highlanders]
[Weaknesses: None]
"A child with a level?" Ga-Ree wondered aloud.
Over in front of him, a decision seemed to be reached. The children lowered themselves to the ground in a circle, with the adults staying protectively close beside them. The native Champion came to stand behind one of the lines on the ground, her Ba-Ton in her hand. A couple of the Commander’s guards changed position, clearly also prepared to protect the children. Their weapons appeared simple, just a bent stave with a cord and a long projectile, but Ga-Ree thought it best to assume that the guards were competent with them, and they would easily fall beneath the technology cap.
[BeeTheViking]
[Level One Ranger]
[Alignment: Haldoun Highlanders]
[Weaknesses: None]
The Commander had to explain in several different ways before the Autotranslate found one it could cope with. [<”The children will give a suitable accompaniment for the duel, without using weapons or magic.>]
The Cezaltiuntare accepted. A cheering squad was unusual but not unknown for duelling fighters. Besides, what harm could children do without weapons? Despite their unusual strength, Ga-Ree felt a pang of concern for the natives. He doubted the Cezaltiuntare would meekly accept the result if their Champion did, by some chance, lose. He himself was fully prepared to fight in order to win control of the planet, but not against non-combatants and children; but unless the Cezaltiuntare did indeed refuse to accept a loss with honor, there was nothing his own side could do.
[Champion Agaekn Ka]
[Level 50 Soldier]
[Alignment: Cezaltiuntare]
[Weaknesses: Heat]
The Commander had one of his guards signal the start of the duel with one single blow upon a resonant cylinder- a deep boom that sent a drop of ice straight down Ga-Ree’s spine. Ga-Ree was never quite clear on the sequence of events after that. He remembered each part, but things happened together in a way that he had never encountered before, perfectly and impossibly synchronised.
The children started to bang their hands and speak words, but none of them were speaking over one another. Instead, somehow, they said the exact same words at the exact same time, in an odd cadence, and the banging of their hands was all the same, weaving a pattern in the air perfectly between them. The strange syllables were given no meaning by the Autotranslate: “O yee can nee shuv yee gran nee af a bus!” The effect chilled Ga-Ree right through, spreading icy weakness down his limbs and setting his guts shuddering. The Cezaltiuntare Champion drew back his arm to throw, his whole body starting to tremble. The native Champion, EmmaTheTwirlerOfTheYear, moved her limbs in a way that somehow echoed the sounds of the other children. Her Ba-Ton spun, flashing with reflected light. The Cezaltiuntare Champion threw his Ba-Ton at the native Champion. The native Champion also threw her Ba-Ton, but hers went straight up, a spinning disc of silver. She started spinning too, feet-over-head, her body wheeling in the air with her Ba-Ton above her, the Cezaltiuntare’s Ba-Ton passing harmlessly beneath her. The native Champion caught her Ba-Ton as it fell, somehow keeping it twirling as she passed it around herself and back in front. The Cezaltiuntare Champion fell to the ground in a huddle, whimpering, a Mark Of Fear appearing above his head. Ga-Ree couldn’t have moved away if he tried; there was a Mark above his own head. There was a Mark above the heads of all his own squad and those of the Cezaltiuntare. Only by locking his knees did he manage not to join the Cezaltiuntare as a quivering mess of terror on the ground, pleading for mercy.
One small movement at a time, Ga-Ree managed to get his finger to the switch for his microcom and click it onto the channel for Commander Ba-Nee. His voice shook as he reported. “Sir? Sir, I strongly, strongly advise that we abandon any plans to conquer these natives, that we swear loyalty to them and learn whatever the kkkfgvl combat skills they’re using. The Cezaltiuntare Champion was just defeated by one of their children. In less time than it would take to swallow a glug of vrorbl. This isn’t a military garrison. This is a family dwelling place. The native fighters are protecting their non-combatants and infants. I’m pretty sure the Cezaltiuntare are about to cheat and attack them despite losing the Challenge. And they are going to lose. The natives are so strong I can't even Analyze their strength. They have two Primes. Just this one faction has two Primes. They have two completely new combat skills. The natives might be more friendly towards us afterwards if we help them against the Cezaltiuntare.”
Ga-Ree heard a faint squeak from the ground at his feet. A hasty glance to that side showed him that Raekn had dropped his weapon. Ga-Ree’s own scout unit was mostly still standing, although shakily, and a couple of them even managed to train weapons on the Cezaltiuntare scouts. Raekn displayed his empty hands and looked back up at him in appeal. “We surrender?”
♩♪♫♩♬♪