King Nani Mai was in prayer. Wind whistled in the ancient chimes in the palace gardens. Mai sat cross legged in a pagoda perched above the blooming flowers and curving old paths, eyes closed, he hummed the Hoi Shens -the Prayers of Shens. He had been raised on these Hoi Shens, just like every other one of his subjects. He knew the words as if he had written them himself. They came to him in the low humming tune:
To Shens I Pray,
For My Family,
For My People.
To the Gods of all.
Shens has provided
Prosperity and Life.
Good fortunes, may they come,
Like lapping tides of the sea,
Constant and Present,
Just as Shens,
Protector of the Divine Servants
Of Sulue and the World Beyond our Own.
He opened his eyes, facing the cape which was painted in gold from the setting sun. Mai breathed in, held his breath for a few seconds and slowly released, listening to the peaceful rings of wind chimes. His prayers completed, there was time for Ti Kenshii -Meditation and Tea, a centuries old tradition, reward for hard prayer and good service to the Gods.
There was a palace servant waiting with hot Nanguo Tea on the walkway that stretched from the main palace out to the Shensue Pagoda. Nani Mai had always been fond of Nanguo Tea, grown in the prosperous fields of neighboring Nanguo, it had a sweeter taste than any other that was grown in the Far South, especially in King Nani’s own nation of Sulue. The tea here came from the Sulue Plain in the west. It had a unique taste, Nani gave it that, but it was more bland than the naturally sweet Nanguo Tea.
He turned and nodded to the servant who quickly, yet elegantly took his steps towards the King, and poured him a small cup. Nani watched the steam curl lazily upwards and dissipate like spirits in the wind. He gave a light blow on the hot tea and took a small sip, feeling the warmth on his tongue and filling his mouth. The sweetness was pleasant as always, like a kiss from your love.
He thought then of an old memory, something he was not proud of. From his time as a General. Bodies lay on the ground in a wet farm field. Rain pattered upon their pallid faces. Something about wheat quotas. That was the old Nani, or so he hoped. Because now there was peace.
But peace was broken.
Koi Ahn, Minister of War, was running as fast as he could. He had news from the far southern Su Isles, a place of contention. King Nani would want to know of this. The Easterners from Opfelden had delivered 3,000 soldiers to their bases in the Su Isles. The House of Sulue and the Opfelden Republic had a rough history. From Opfelden’s war with Sulue in 4922, to their invasion in 4949, the two nations had been mortal enemies. The Opfelders were practicing empire in a far corner of the world just because they could. It worked for them too. After the war in 4922 they seized the southern island chains of the Su Isles and the northern Li Mo isles in a backwards treaty. Sulue could not win the war, so they had to give them something. In fact, Opfelden had even gone to war with Sulue’s ally of Tokugara in 4931 in the Doloman Islands. The Opfelders were industrialized, powerful, and had resources to expend but no good reason to use it. After the last war in 4949 the Opfelders agreed to never increase troop numbers over the already present 5,000 Marines; that treaty had just been broken.
Koi Ahn nearly collapsed when he arrived at the Pagoda. His thin frame heaved for air as he folded over, hands on his knees. King Nani stood, feeling the flowing Hoisu he wore flap in the wind, the silky fabric caressing his skin. His Minister of War was wearing the Tesu, the traditional suit of Ministers to the King. It was a simple suit of black plants, and a stiff collared black shirt with the Peloi -Golden Dragon- design flowing around the collar and down the center of the shirt.
“My King of Kings,” he was panting. Koi straightened his back and held his head up.
“Minister Ahn.” The King's voice was quiet. He stroked his beard fashioned in the tradition of old Kings. It was short around the cheeks, but stretched down from the chin, reaching his chest. This was called the Sulae, or King’s Head beard.
“The Opfelders-” he coughed. “Excuse me my King of Kings.”
“Enough with the formalities.” Nani said.
“Yes my King of-” Koi caught his words and continued, “The Opfelders have just deployed three thousand more of their Marines into their bases in the Su Isles.”
“This is cause for concern?”
“Yes. They have violated the Bo Pact of 4949. This action cannot go unpunished.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I suggest an attack. They have broken an honored treaty. They have violated our trust, and lied to the Doloman mediators who oversaw the negotiations for the pact.”
“Broken honor does require actions.”
“The Sulue Sen says so, sir.” Koi spoke with conviction. The Sulue Sen were ancient laws passed hundreds of years ago during the Sen Era. The Sulue Sen had codes of honor, loyalty, and religion. Opfleden had just broken an ancient law of diplomacy in the Sulue Sen, and King Nani would have to follow the law and react. A punishment would befall Opfelden.
“Is a military assault a justifiable punishment? Why do we not impose economic punishments?”
“With all do respect, sir, the only trading we do with the Opfelders on an international scale is in tea, and grain. They would be able to just as easily find a trade partner in both if we agreed to halt trade with them. That would leave us the fools.”
“What of a negotiation of the treaty? What if we recapture the Li Mo Isles in agreement to raise the maximum amount of troops allowed in the Su Isles?”
“Sir, we must not put off what is just only because we are afraid. The right choice has never been made through peace in Sulue. That is our lot.”
“So it must be an attack then.” Nani spoke with his eyes looking down. He was never one to prefer violence. He saw rebels killed in droves in the streets of Aianue as a boy. Throats slit, heads removed from shoulders by the sharp blades of Sensalai swords. He remembered the blood pooling in the streets, rivers of it emptying into small gardens across the city. It took weeks for the stuff to be all cleaned up.
“Very good, my King. I shall discuss it with the Ministers this evening. Our attack will be devastating to them.” He bowed and said the ancient words “Harugen Mai.” and left.
King Nani turned to see the bloody orange sun dipping below the horizon. He began to pray again.
❖
Colonel Karl Shelbaum was kicking sand on the beach of Nih Island, a small Marine base in the Su Isles. The sun had just risen and the weather was beautiful. He smoked a sweet Reichen Red cigarette looking out at the bright blue waves kissing the white sand of Nih Island. Paradise, or something like it, he thought. He couldn’t have asked for a better post in Sulue, he missed home. He was from Bergland, the most mountainous state in all of Opfelden. He loved cold winters in the mountains just as much as tropical summers in Sulue. He thought about home, about his wife Hallie. He missed her the most. Long brown hair as smooth as Sulue breeze, soft pale skin, caring brown eyes.
He puffed smoke, coughed a little. He wasn’t so used to smoking, just started with this deployment. He’d been to other places too on deployments, but none that made him start smoking. His first deployment was his worst. He remembered he was always assigned to “shit detail” with other privates at Fort Rudolf in Kreigsland, the black sheep state of Opfelden, separated from the mainland by Gerrick Bay. It was humid and swampy which made for a terrible “shit detail” cleaning toilets. He was blessed to be sent to the Dolomans after that. The Dolomans were a piece of island paradise sitting off the coast of Zagria. Hallie came with him on that deployment, they had their daughter Mina there too. Now he was on a deployment in a corner of the world deemed “unstable” by the Opfelder government, that meant families couldn’t follow along with their military husbands and wives. It was probably for the best, however, Karl thought. Even though Nih Island was great and all, it was small and the base was made up of canvas tents in a jungle clearing. It was almost always filled with the noise of Adenbird Helicopters dropping off supplies anyways. Nih Island was the northernmost Opfelder base in Sulue, a sweet distinction to many of the blood thirsty privates in Karl’s regiment, the 122nd Marine Battalion. A bunch of kids from Bergland and the neighboring state of Krauppen. 7 Companies, 321 men. That’s what he commanded. It wasn’t too easy, but it wasn’t too hard, just the way things should be.
Karl flicked the cigarette into the sand and twisted it under his boot tip. He gave a look up facing north. A few small islands filled the channel. Just 20 miles away he could barely make out the tip of South Tem Lou island. There was a Sulue air base there, which always left him on edge, but there was nothing to worry about now. The King declared an Era of Peace in Sulue after the last invasion, so Karl felt pretty safe. He’d only met a few native Sulues from the nearby village. They were kind people, a little shorter than Opfelders with small, pointy noses, and tiny eyes. But they were good people. Religious, too. Karl loved the sound of the ancient wind chimes every morning and afternoon they would use for prayer, that was back when he was stationed at Fort Toddenbrau. There was only one pagoda on Nih Island, the oldest one in the Su Isles, but there was too much jungle between him and it to hear the chimes. Sometimes if the wind was strong enough he could hear the sweet sounds faintly carry from the pagoda. Most of the privates in the 122nd didn’t really care about the Sulues. Called them “Savage Suls.” They just wanted to get the chance to kill a few. They hadn’t been there as long as he had. In fact, most marines in the Su Isles hadn’t been there as long as he had. Colonel Karl Shelbaum had been in command of the 122nd since 4968. The only people that had been in the Sulues longer were the Admirals and Generals. There were only about 20 of them. The privates and a few lower officers usually only served 6 month contracts in peace time. They could choose to renew it, but 6 months on Nih Island was good enough.
Dear Kathola, how long have I been on Nih Island? He thought. By this point he could speak the language, knew the village elders by name, knew the island like the map was tattooed on his hand. Three years, I’ve been on Nih Island for three years. He was astonished. Could barely believe it, and he’d only seen his wife 6 times a year, they’d meet on the Doloman Islands for two weeks every so often. Not a single officer below him had been there that long. Captain Tannen had been there for a year and a half, but that was it.
I’ve got to retire soon. He smirked. That probably wasn’t going to happen any time in the foreseeable future. He at least wanted to retire with a Brigadier General Rank.
With that he sauntered back towards camp. On paper it was called Nih Firebase, to the 321 men there, it was called Camp Pissrun, a name Karl wasn’t very fond of.
The camp had developed since it was settled by Opfelders in ‘68 from a tiny sprawl of tents to a massive complex with 150 tents and one big recreation tent in the center. Pissrun was on the western edge of the camp. The entire thing was surrounded on three sides by 50 yards of jungle before it hit the beach. The southern edge of camp led through a mile of tangled, green, humid jungle before it reached the little village of Nih. Nih was a pretty town, Karl thought. It was one of the oldest in the Su Isles and was settled during just after the Sen Era, so the architecture was quite regal, ancient wooden arches, intricately carved railings, beautiful gardens, giant tapestries of the old Sensalai Soldiers hung in the homes. Camp Pissrun was nothing like that, a mud patch in the jungle filled with junk and idiot kids wanting to kill “Suls.”
Karl was a disciplined soldier, had served in the army for 2 years and transferred to the Marines in 4964. The only other man like him at camp was Captain Chuck Tannen, a gruff fellow from Brawia. Tannen was a few years older than Karl, he was a private in the 4949 Sulue Expedition and saw men killed then. Now he was a bored old vet overseeing what he called “worm headed sock soldiers.” He liked it here, though, just like his Colonel.
When Karl entered camp he went straight for the recreation tent where he could hear some music playing, and men laughing. There was a bar in there, given to them by the Marine Corps just last year to celebrate three years as a fully functioning Marine camp, and booze flowed like water there. In fact the helicopters would only ever deliver soap, water, beer, food and medical supplies. Upon moving into the tent, he looked over the sea of happy soldiers who shot up to attention to salute to him. Captain Tannen sat at the bar and raised a glass with a slight smile.
“You all may be idiots,” Karl began, “but you’re well oiled saluting machines. If I were a Sulue I’d sure as hell be afraid of your elbows.” He smiled. “Well shit, you can laugh at least, leave an old turd like me disappointed. At ease shit heads, get back to drinking.” The men sat down and returned to their merriments. Karl sat in an uncomfortable bar seat that creaked every time he moved. Captain Tannen sipped on a warm Craddler Light beer from a glass mug.
“Colonel.” He said.
“Afternoon Captain.”
“Some boys from the northern beach-head machine gun placement snuck in here, they don’t think I notice. But I do. I’ll bring it up in PT tomorrow, they’ll be vomiting up blood by the end of it.” He smirked and took a hearty swig. “Or whatever you think is best, sir.”
“Don’t kill ‘em, just make them feel like they’re about to die.” They laughed. There were plenty of slackers in the 122nd, punishments were divvied up almost every day. “Let the poor bastards enjoy the night.”
“I think there are a few boys left at the placement. I’ll give them tomorrow off, sweeten the deal for not being a shit head.”
“I trust your judgement Captain.”
“You hear the news?”
“Which news?”
“New Brigade of Marines came in. 3,000 empty skulled 20 year olds.”
“Where to?”
“They’re at Fort Hess.” The Captain gulped and wiped his mouth.
Brigadier Adolf Hess Memorial Air and Naval Base was the largest Opfelder installment in Sulue and even got a new submarine bay built in. Every Marine circled through there in their first few days in the Su Isles before being deployed elsewhere. Karl remembered his first day in Sulue, he’d been a Colonel by that point with a good Battalion below him. They were like machines then. He remembered the heat, the humidity, and the cool breeze. The salt kissed winds that blew off of the channels and bays. The blue water, white sands, and dense green jungles. Beautiful nurses strolled by and some even bathed down by the beach. The place oozed of paradise.
“What of it?” Karl was slid a beer by an exhausted looking bartender.
“Sulues are getting mighty jumpy about it.”
“What’s that mean?”
“They’ve been building up their forces at Plei Tei on South Tem Lou, the air base. Rumors have been floating around that they are fixing to attack us.”
“No. I don’t believe it.”
“They did a fly over of Illan yesterday.”
“Where are you hearing this?”
“I’ve been spending a lot of time in the radio tent.”
“Well,” Karl sighed. “If it comes they’ll hit us.”
“Maybe, if they know we’re here.”
“You think they’d pass us up?”
“Why would they waste their time on a battalion of sock soldier marines and not make a pass on Fort Hess, or the Tensou Marine Base?”
“Less resistance.”
“I suppose.”
“We don’t even have an anti-air installation. Hell, we have one field artillery piece and no artillerymen to man the thing.”
“I think we’ll be okay.”
“That’s what we tell ourselves.”
“Worked for me in ‘49. I saw hundreds of men fall around me and I’m still kicking.”
“For better or worse.” They laughed.
All the men stopped speaking for a moment. There was some strange sound in the sky. A far off hum. Not quite a helicopter, something bigger. All of the sudden distant screams fluttered through the jungle. A frantic call came, “PLANE!” And men flew out of the recreation tent.
Karl hurried out too as the noise grew louder. As he pushed the canvas flap away he looked into the deep blue sky to see a silver flash zoom overhead.
❖
The Su Isles looked different from the air. Scores of tiny green dots, some larger ones that spanned for miles showed blue rivers cutting across. Everything seemed unimportant. Thousands of feet below was a whole other world at this point. Thousands of feet up, however, was the domain of the brave. Khe Masi thought so at least. Captain Masi loved nothing more than flying. He’d served in the Sulue Air Force since it’s conception in 4958, easily the most senior pilot in the air. He was called Ro Yin or “old man” by all the new recruits and was married to his occupation. Masi had no time for family, not with the sky calling to him.
Today he cruised over the northern Su Isles on a recon mission. This was his first operation with real consequences, and for all his experience, he wasn’t going to botch it. His goal was to inspect nearby Opfelder bases, report on weak points and the like. General Rukin Lai had visited the air base at Plei Tei that morning to deliver the orders. Lai was a short man with no hair and small eyes. He hobbled about, his leg had been wounded in battle in 4949 when he was a Royal Guard. He spoke with uninterested tones, as if his speech had been written years ago.
“Gentlemen of the Sulue Royal Airforce,” he began. “It is your duty today to seek out forward bases held by the dishonorable Opfelden, to seek out the Yow Todashi [Weak Soul].” He faced the men squarely and lifted up his chin. “Report back with any and all significant information. If you find yourself taking enemy fire in the air, announce your findings over the Radcom. Good luck gentlemen, may Shens watch over you.”
Now, Masi’s Ling Mel jet soared smoothly through the sky. It was one of 15 jets in the air force and he felt lucky to fly it, even though it jostled violently to the point where a bolt often came loose in the cockpit. Nonetheless, he was in bliss. As he approached an island, he slowed the engine and decreased his altitude to 500 feet so he could get a better look. There were two other jets on the mission, but they were flying farther west. He was solo.
He checked a small map, the island looked like it was called Nih. He’d been there once before. It was 4963 and he was travelling with a friend to see his family. The village there was ancient and peaceful. Masi dipped a little lower, noticing some strange figures on the northern shore line. They were soldiers. Opfelder Marines. They saw him and scattered into a trench.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Masi banked left and cut a sharp right to fly over the island as quickly as he could. Upon doing that he soared over a large encampment of men all staring up and pointing. The enemy, he thought to himself. There was a momentary urge that stuck in his mind to fire a few rounds down into them, send a message and all that. But he resisted and pushed forward on the accelerator lever that sat awkwardly on a box to his right. Masi heard the engine sputter into full speed and felt the rattling jet leap forward, a metallic clink sounded, a bolt from the gearbox in front of his feet had rattled out. His tensions melted and a smile creeped upon his face.
Shens blessings have guided me.
Masi was the first man back, he didn’t have far to travel. With all the swiftness of a tiger he leaped from the cockpit and bolted towards the officers building. Once inside he met with his commanding pilot, and General Lai. Lai was very pleased with the information and said in his monotonous voice, “The King sends his warmest regards and prayers. May Shens shine brightly on you, Pilot.”
❖
The radios hummed with excitement.
“Three jets spotted in total today, is that correct?” A static filled transmission came through.
A few voices replied in unison, “That is correct.”
“Well shit, then.” This was the voice of the commander of the Marine Corps, General Richard Kartz. “What was that northern island called?”
“Nih Island, General.” the Colonel remarked.
“Who am I speaking to at present?”
“Colonel Karl Shelbaum, sir. 122nd Marine Battalion.”
“I don’t need your life story damnit!” Kartz’s famous attitude was shining today. “Listen, how many men do you have there Colonel?”
“About 330, sir.”
“Any AirCav?”
“No sir, we haven’t had any Air Cavalry support once. Just shipments.”
“Here’s what I’ll do.” He paused. Kartz was probably chugging booze from a flask, he was new in command, a young buck who commanded a fort in the Dolomans once and got this position because his father worked for the Secretary of War. “I’ll send a few AirCav fuckers up there to support you and keep you safe.”
“All do respect sir, I don’t think Air Cavalry will do us much good. We suspect that if the Sulues attack it’ll be by air, I would like to say it’ll be an amphibious attack that I could hold off, I hope it will be if there is an attack.” Karl spoke into the radio-phone. Crackled silence hung for a moment.
“What?”
“I said-”
“I heard you you dumb mother fucker. You don’t get to suspect shit! I’ve got the strategists down here, I’ve got the guys, I’ve got the experience. You’re getting AirCav or nothin’ for that ‘amphibious invasion’ you think is coming along. Understood?”
Karl didn’t speak for a few seconds. “Well if it’s by air then-”
“I said do you understand me Colonel Whatever-the-fuck?”
“Yessir.”
“Good. Now if anyone is getting attacked, my guys tell me it’s you, Colonel. Dig in, sit tight.”
“Sir?”
“What?”
“The thing about the AirCav-” He choked on the words, He could sense Kartz was upset. “Nih Island Firebase has only one helipad. Base isn’t big enough to fit more than one chopper, sir.”
“I’m looking at a map here and it says there's some jungle to your south?”
“Yes, that is right.”
“Clear some fuckin’ space then. They’ll be at your base by week's end, understood? General Kartz, over and out fellas. Keep the eyes up for a while now.” There was a click.
Some other commanders were still on the radio.
“Fucking air-head general if I’ve ever seen one.” Someone said.
“Shit for brains. Real shit for brains.”
“Hey Colonel Shelbaum, that’s your name right?”
“That’s me.”
“You better clear that jungle if you want to keep your job pal. I worked with Kartz back in the Dolomans and one time a Captain was reading a paper when the General walked by, so Kartz dressed the fucker down and fired his ass. Poor bastard. Listen, just keep your head up, and clear those trees.”
Karl just hung up. To fit a whole unit of AirCav meant clearing a whole hell of a lot of jungle, and it wouldn’t be possible without help from the villagers. He’d go speak to Yamma, the chief village elder. Yamma was 76, but moved around like a 30 year old. He was straight backed, and thin. His hair was grey and long, but you wouldn’t believe what he could do. Karl once saw him move a Marine Archer (officers vehicle) through the village alone with 5 marines in it. Strong old son of a bitch.
Nih was always a welcome place for Karl to visit. The people loved him, the elders respected him, and the women cared for him. He’d been there so long he was a part of their community. Pulling down the dirt street in the old Archer, Karl pulled alongside an ancient building. It was long and had many windows that ran along its length, smoke swirled out of a chimney in it’s center. Captain Tannen and the translator of the unit, a young 19 year old from Hollen, accompanied the Colonel. Karl didn’t need a translator but was barred by Marine doctrine to have one at all times. Tannen on the other hand only knew a few phrases here and there. Like “Togi tha fooqoi du’ne!” for ‘Get the fuck down’ from his tour in ‘49.
Inside was Yamma, smoking a whale bone pipe that his great great grandfather had been given by the King almost 150 years ago. Yamma jumped up when he saw the Colonel.
“Koni Colonel Karl!”
“Koni Yamma.” Karl replied.
“Oun matte’ur Kim Lui?”
The translator spoke, “He says what have you come for?”
“I know what the fuck he is saying.” Karl spat. “Au hitsu ketesun oru haruge tha mituri. Au ke kim ni fen xen thie takulan.”
“Thie ahae ze!” Yamma looked disappointed. “Aye?”
“Mae Goa shapu Au matte’ur na’i. Lui Aiurotumacha.”
“Aiurotumacha?”
“Ey.”
“Oun oko kim hitsu soe lui?”
“Suluwans yotua na’i koge usera.”
“Ni.”
“Ey.”
Yamma sat in disbelief. “Au oko fen shinji aho.”
“Shinki aho mae toma.”
Captain Tannen whispered to the translator, “What the fuck is going on kid?”
He replied in a hushed tone, “Colonel said he needed to clear the jungle for AirCav and Yamma wanted to know why. The Colonel said the Sulues plan an attack, and Yamma doesn’t believe it, but the Colonel says it's all very true.”
“Well why didn’t he just say that then?”
“Something on the account of they don’t speak the same language Captain.”
“Don’t smart mouth me shit-head.”
“Yes sir.”
Yamma turned around to pace, blowing sweet smelling copia -a mild opiate grown only in Sulue- from the pipe. The room was mostly empty around him, filled mainly with low lying tables on beautifully woven carpets. On the ends of the room two massive tapestries hung. One was of the Sensalai in battle, the other was of a King in prayer. They had to be over 400 years old, the Colonel thought.
“Yatta sakuno otakura oko kim hitsu?”
“Nija, ni mota, ni motai.”
The translator whispered, “He says he needs 20 men, no less, no more.”
“Shit, that’ll be a feat.”
“Ey, Au deko ataulai tho.”
“He can provide that.” The translator smirked.
“I’ll be damned.”
“Uye?” Yamma scratched his chin.
“Hua wenoi.”
“Ey.” Yamma shook his head in agreement with Colonel Shelbaum. After all, the villagers had been idle for some time and Yamma wanted to take this opportunity to start training the younger fellows the way of the Sensalai. Not only that but the Marines were liable to come into town any day and sack the place if they felt like it, so if Yamma was able to portray the image of a good Sulue to the Marines, he might save the village.
The Marines thanked Yamma who returned to his spot on the ground and continued to puff from his pipe, blowing curls of smoke.
“We’ve got 20 men to help us clear up some of the jungle starting tomorrow. I’d like you to oversee that operation Captain.” Karl said as he wandered back to the Archer, looking around and waving at familiar faces.
“Would be my pleasure, Colonel. I’ll whip ‘em into shape.” Tannen replied. “Reckon we didn’t have enough men as it is though sir? To clear them trees I mean.”
“Most definitely.” He climbed into the Archer and started the loud thing. It sputtered into life. The engine thwapped. “But we need to make sure the villagers are willing to give up a few hundred yards of ancient forest and jungle for a temporary AirCav base, and we need to keep them on our side. Besides,” the vehicle bounced down a muddy road, interrupting the Colonel. They shot straight down the lane through the perpetually green foliage. “I want to keep enough men posted in the event the camp is attacked.”
“Fair enough, sir.” The Captain spoke.
Nih Island Firebase was about to get a whole hell of a lot busier.
❖
Noves came in it’s bitter style. The month started as it usually did with a ripping storm of rain. No Marine could find pleasure in that as they tucked into their miniscule canvas tents which proved to be as useful in a rainstorm as a newspaper. All the Air Cavalry was grounded at Nih Firebase. They were meant to be patrolling in their H-37 Blackbirds, nothing close to an attack helicopter, but it did come armed with rockets and two door gunners. The worst of it was that the AirCav guys had to share a tent with the Marine grunts. No one was a fan.
Colonel Shelbaum had to allow some officer overflow into his tent. It was the commander and his staff of the 7th Regiment of Air Cavalry, 1st Division. The 7th was not known for their reliability, mostly dunces that the army had to pass through training because of the shortage of pilots and engineers. The “Chief” -or Commander- was a much younger chap than Karl and Tannen. The Air Cavalry was relatively new so it was flushed full of young men who dreamed of flying, or secondary dropouts who didn’t know what else to do with their lives. The Chief of the 7th was tall, and well built, his hair was freshly buzzed and his uniform was fully buttoned. His name was Jakob Liagawitz, from Tolsbruck. Freshly married, Jakob always had a photo of his wife in his right breast pocket.
He spoke in a commanding, yet youthful voice, the excitement hadn’t been drained out of it after years of service. “How long have you fellas been here?”
“Three long years in paradise.” Karl spoke loudly over the rain.
“One and a half.” Tannen muttered, “Enough to want to leave.”
Karl asked, “How long have you been in the AirCav?”
“Just shy of a year, but I was in the Airforce before that for 4 years. My brother joined when the program started, he’s a Division Commander now out at Fort Hess.”
“You fly any combat during the Border Crisis?” Tannen probed. He wanted the good stuff.
“The Border Crisis you said?” Jakob screamed now, the wind had picked up and the canvas started snapping in its vicious torrent.
“Yessir.” Tannen replied. He had been deployed then as well. The Western Helms of the neighboring Republic of Saalbruck had seceded at the end of 4970 and a few rebels tried to march through Opfeldens mountain passes to flank around the main force of the Saalbruckers. Then the whole rebel army came into Opfelden and the army was called in. The Air Cavalry saw its first combat use on patrols which would take out various raiding parties.
“I did right at the end. My platoon served at the Battle of Hedden Valley. Ferried troops up to Katon Hill. I had a copilot killed there. Shot through the heart.” he looked down at the puddle forming around his feet and he shuffled away to a box to sit. “He was a good guy.”
“Sorry to hear it son.” Karl said. He himself hadn’t even seen combat before, let alone a man killed. He’d been all over but not once in a combat deployment.
There were two other AirCav officers in the tent as well. One of them was the “Chief co. Rider” of the Unit. The Riders were mostly designated copilots rather than officers, but they acted as the main engineer on each flight, checking the dials and system reports. They occasionally flew, only when a situation demanded it of course. He was a little older than his Chief, it showed in the bags under his eyes. He looked uncomfortable in the moment, he had been the replacement of Jakobs first copilot. He was the one who changed the subject. His voice was calm and steady over the storm. “How long do these things normally last? Can’t fly our birds in the rain.”
No shit, the Colonel thought to himself. “It should be over in the afternoon. You’ll see, it’s mighty strange. One second the sky is trying to kill you, the next the sun is out and burning you up so much you need to take a swim.”
“Is it always like this?” he continued.
“Come every Noves, yeah. The locals call it the Teguo Shosek. Heavens Tide.” Karl felt a dash of pride, he hardly used the knowledge he’d acquired over the years on anyone other than locals and family. “They believe that the God Shenzen who controls nature causes these storms to ensure better growing as the season gets a bit colder. Copia grows like mad here in the cold.”
“Why do you know so much?” the man asked. He had a smile on his face, and not an impressed smile. A smile that said “Get a load of this guy, thinks he’s smart or something.”
Karl could tell that, but he answered honestly. “I’ve been here for three years, I figured it would be valuable to me to not only learn the language, but the culture as well. I rely on these villagers for trust and trade. My men love a good shipment of Shousfuturi from the villagers. In exchange, I respect them, offer my men to do work around the town. This is not an occupation. This is a cultural exchange. Opfelden owns these islands which makes these people citizens in a very strange way. So the least we could do after all the destruction and seizure of land, is respect them. And that’s what I’m doing. As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t a single Sulue I hate. Not even the King. War is not an integral part of this culture like it has become in ours. War is an accessory to power in Opfleden. Here, the ancient Sen laws only allow for war if honor and trust is broken or defiled. These people are peaceful, but here we are.”
“You don’t think we should be here?” The other officer asked. He was the 7th Cav’s chief engineer. A gruff looking fellow.
“Why should we?”
“Because we own the damn place.”
“Why do we own it? Give me one reason.”
“To keep peace in the Far South.”
“From who? Who’s rattling their sabers down here other than us?”
“The Suls sir. That’s why we got called in, they’re planning an attack. So fuck the Sul bastards. I don’t buy it for a second that war isn’t part of their culture.”
“Why do you think the Sulues are attacking us?”
“Because they want to kill us.”
“They want us gone for Katholas sake! We came here in the 4920’s for what? For empire, for imperial gain. We had finally broken out onto the world stage and decided to take advantage of some islands in the Far South. Not a single country around here as been at war with one another for centuries, then Opfelden sends a few Marines and we fuck it all up.”
“Fuck that, it’s not our fault for shit. The Suls-”
“You call them Suls one more time.”
“The slat faced, little pricked Suls, sir, are good for nothing, and all they want to do is kill us.”
“No shit they want to kill us. We stole land from them, forced them to give it up because they couldn’t fight anymore. And why wouldn’t they want this land back?”
The engineer didn’t say anything. He just crossed his arms and shook his head.
“Well then.” The Chief said. “Why don’t we talk about something else.”
As he said that the wind began to die down. It was a little past noon which meant the storm would be letting up soon and the AirCav could run some patrols. Karl lit a cigarette and inhaled more than he could handle, but held back his coughs, chasing it with a shot of Makura, a strong liquor infused with Copia leaves. This brought him to the realization, Copia is in everything. I guess if you’ve got, use it. He shrugged.
The engineer looked up and asked Karl if he could have a smoke too.
“Yeah, here kid.” He pulled one from the pack and flicked it into the mud at his feet. “There ya go.”
When the rain stopped an hour later, the AirCav officers left and the Chief apologized on behalf of the engineer. Within a few minutes Karl could hear the blades whirring into action and watched as a few choppers lifted skyward and away.
Fucking AirCav. He thought.
It was only an hour later when the radios went up in an excited explosion of noise.
“Colonel!” The radio engineer called. There was a distant buzz. “Come quickly.”
Karl ran over and was handed the radio. It was the voice of the Chief. “Colonel, we’ve got 5 jets on us. We are trying to divert them from camp. You’ll want to get ready right fucking quick. We’re down a chopper. Damnit!” he shouted. “Taking shots, Colonel. The jets are coming down from Plei Tei. Get ready real fucking quick.”
Karl shouted out to Captain Tannen, “Get the companies in their trenches, hurry hurry!” As he said that the sound around him was drowned out as the rest of the AirCav mobilized. They would try and distract and perhaps even fight the Sulue jets if they could. “How are you holding up Chief?” he spoke into the radio.
There was a weighted pause. “Well, I’m alive, but shit they shot down one of our birds. Fuck!”
“I’ll get my men ready. Good luck out there.” he looked to the radio engineer and spoke, “Bring the mobile unit up to the beach head.”
Karl dropped the radio and rushed for his tent. He felt a tremble in his fingers as a faint buzz sounded once again. When he was inside he went straight for his rifle. A fully automatic T-11 assault rifle. He already had his pistol at his side. The tremble began to spread to his arms and knees as he heard machine gun fire from the beach. He was tempted to drop to the ground and curl up. But he had to be with his men. After three years on Nih Island, he wasn’t going to give up his defenses just because he was afraid.
A jet soared like a dragon overhead and strafed the island as Karl ran to the trenches. There was a terrible screaming from behind him. Five Marines had been hit in the strafe. One of them was dead. Blood oozed from their wounds. Two field medics ran to them and dragged the living ones to a tent. Karl carried on. The men in the trench were firing at jets circling above, there were only two helicopters in the sky. The others had fallen back, flying to Tensou Marine base. One of the remaining ones was struck badly then, Karl heard it but couldn’t see it as he had ducked into the trench next to Tannen.
A crackle came from the radio. “This is Arrow-1, I am hit badly. Bleeding out. I’m going to try to put this down on the island.”
The Colonel clutched the rifle in his hands and peaked over the trench. Gunfire continued to rip into the sky. Two jets broke off from the helicopters and aimed themselves at the island. The radio engineer was shouting, “This is Nih Island Firebase. We are under attack. I repeat we are under attack.”
The jets dipped low, their engines hissed as they did, and for a split second things slowed down. Karl watched in his trembling fear as the jets dropped large black cylinders from a rather small opening near the back of the jet’s underside. He knew what it was. Bombs. He felt the warm wind blow in from the sea. He thought for a moment that he could hear the waves crashing and rolling up onto the white sand a few yards ahead of him. A seagull squawked. But then, a hellish orange flash blinded him.
The ears rang loudly as three more bombs exploded around him. He crashed down into the shallow trench and felt a warmness in his right shoulder, followed by a burning pain. He opened his eyes and everything was blurred, his vision partially impaired by a white vignette. The radio engineer was lying motionless next to him, crimson goo flushed from his throat. The radio seemed clear however.
“This is Hess, we are scrambling fighters to your position. How long can you hold? How long can you hold? Hello? I repeat-”
❖
Khe Masi lay still in a cold nurses tent. A chilly wind flapped the canvas and water sprayed in from the storm outside. He opened his eyes slowly, they were heavy and blurred. He saw vaguely the image of a nurse checking a wound on his side. She noticed it was bleeding again, packed gauze onto it and applied pressure.
“You’re lucky to be alive, Pilot.”
“What happened?” he mustered.
“You don’t remember?” She looked puzzled. “I suppose that makes enough sense. You were wounded, shot by one of those savage Easterners near the heart. You bled out quite a bit when you returned and crash landed here, at Plei Tei.”
“Did we win?”
“Soldiers are all the same, ground, water or air. All you care about is the war.”
“Well?”
“Of course you won, there wasn’t much fighting that they could do.”
“How many did we lose?” he felt afraid asking.
“One jet was shot down. Two of you are wounded, the other one was much more minor of a wound. You however,”
“Will I die?”
“No. Not in my care.”
“Do you know how many we got?”
“No. But you should be ashamed of asking. You won. Now rest.”
Suddenly, the tent flap door was pulled away, and in from the pouring rain came General Lai. The old man shivered with every step, but he felt it was a necessary honor to go see Khe Masi, whom the other pilots called a hero for no reason other than he was surviving his wounds and the great story they had told the General. Lai was told that Masi had single handedly saved the attack and bombed an anti-air gun, that’s how he was wounded. It was all a lie. There was no anti-air gun at Nih Island, and Masi did not do anything incredible other than fight alongside his comrades. Perhaps it was to create a story of national pride, to make the victory that much more great. The only hope was that Masi would not break the honor of his comrades and just play along. But he couldn’t even remember what happened in the first place.
Lai saluted at the foot of the bed. Masi tried to stand to return the salute but both the General and the nurse told him not to move.
Lai smiled and said, “The people need you alive, boy. You are their hero. After what you did, you deserve the rest and even the fame.”
“What did I do?”
The nurse spoke up, “You will have to forgive his memory sir. After his crash landing yesterday evening he seems to have lost all memory of the battle.”
“That makes for one good story, I suppose.” The General chuckled. “Your fellow pilots told me of your heroic dash to take out the anti-air emplacement on Nih Island, and that your wounding was caused by that action. Had you not survived, they would have erected a statue of you in Aianue. I’m sure of it.”
“And if I’m alive?”
“Well you shall enjoy the benefits of a hero's life. The King himself has requested your personal audience to celebrate the heroism.”
Masi felt great pride and honor. He didn’t remember a single thing, but now it’s almost as if the memories came back, though they were false, he had the image in his head, a heroic dive down close to the ground to take out the enemy. “I would be honored.” he said.
“Whenever you are feeling better, there will be a ship prepared for your journey to Aianue.” General Lai saluted once more. “May Shens protect your soul."