March 18 - Splintered Rock
"Choose a man and have him come down to me. If he is able to fight and kill me, we will become your subjects; but if I overcome him and kill him, you will become our subjects and serve us." - 1 Samuel 17
"We bid two champions put on their armour, take their keen blades, and make trial of one another in the presence of the multitude; whichever of them can first wound the flesh of the other, cut through his armour, and draw blood, to him will I give this goodly Thracian sword inlaid with silver, which I took from Asteropaeus, but the armour let both hold in partnership, and I will give each of them a hearty meal in my own tent." - The Iliad
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The landing pad was filled with the steady drone of heavy machinery, punctuated by the snapping of flags in the warm breeze.
Troop carriers sat on the tarmac amid clusters of large white containers slowly baking in the late afternoon sun. Steel reinforced concrete barriers surrounded and fortified the position.
With the expansion of hostilities, the United System Directorate had begun to use the airfield in Splintered Rock to full effect. The build up was impressive. The USD was demonstrating it was an effective military machine, serious about the business at hand.
It reminded me of home.
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Game over.At least, it was according to the Wyrmgo machine. It announced the fact for anyone in the Water's End tavern to hear.
I removed my mask and goggles, and blinked as my eyes grew accustom to the light.
Besides the barkeep, the tavern was empty save for myself and a man playing Wyrmgo.
The man was tall and strong. His remarkable height accentuated by his long black coat. His hair pulled back and tied tightly. He looked very striking with his moustache and goatee. And his hands. His hands were a symphony of sinew and bone.
The man muttered a light curse as the game ended and rolled his shoulders. He moved with the grace of a wild stallion.
"Having any luck?" I asked him, showing a bit of a smile.
He nodded in my direction, "Not as such," he replied, his voice rich and resonant, "At least not with the game."
"I see you are a miner... " I nodded towards the object in his possession. He had a sand sifter. One of the newer models from the look of it.
"Well, mechanic...miner...wanderer...general being of little importance," the man smiled.
I responded with a warm smile of my own. "I'm just back from a bit of a walkabout myself."
"Oh, forgive my manners," started the man, "I'm Zarco of the Zida'ya people. And I guess I should add that I'm a negotiator for the Nexus Corporation as well....since some consider that important."
So this was Zarco.
Zarco of Nexus.
"Nexus?" I asked innocently, "Are they a local firm?"
"It's a corporation," he replied, "that has some expansionist interests here in this sector of space. They realized how useful having a neutral type party to conduct negotiations for them."
"Ah, so you are neutral in this recent conflict?"
"Other than wishing for them to not be fighting, yes. I even took steps to try and avoid conflict....But it happened anyway." Zarco sighed. "So now I busy myself with ways to resolve it and stop this senseless loss of life."
"That's wise," I said. "And your people ..what did you call your tribe? Zida'ya? Are they native?"
"My species is Zida'ya," he replied, "It means 'Star born'....well, among other things....but the name was adapted to mean that when our home planet's sun went nova and destroyed the system, and we scattered among the stars."
"And so you ended up here," I observed.
"Well, the sun going nova was a long time before I was born."
I nodded compassionately.
"It's alright though," he added, "My people have an innate sense of wandering and exploring and this gave us the excuse to travel the stars."
"So 'gypsy' in a sense," I ventured, "to use the old term."
"That is indeed a term that I have heard used," he replied, "to describe my people, though we rarely travel in caravans."
"So you are trying to act as a go between in this conflict," I asked, "Any luck with that?"
"Well," he began, "have you ever tried having a conversation with different walls in a house?"
I chuckled. It was an apt metaphor.
Zarco continued, "The Orion and Federation viewpoints are entirely diametrically opposed. They cannot exist together....The problem is they have brought their conflict here." He turned the conversation my way. "So what of yourself?"
"I'm Major Pepper Siamendes, of the Alliance Military."
"Alliance? which Alliance?"
"The UAP," I replied.
Zarco blinked, "All these military groups and their three to four letter acronyms..."
I laughed gently, "Very good."
"Perhaps a more pointed question is Which side is this Ooo-Ah-Pea siding with?" he asked.
I was non-committal, not that policy was my decision in any case. "I'm still trying to sort things out. Looks like the USD and UFS are on one side, and the Orions and Myrmidons on the other. Some mercenaries in the mix some how. What have you heard?"
Zarco nodded, "It seems that the Federation and the Ooo-Ess-Dee are allied because the Ooo-Ess-Dee Was tired of being harassed by the Orion's mercenaries. The Myrmidons were brought in by the Orions to try and kick the Federation off the planet. And the Federation keeps telling me they're peaceful explorers who were attacked first. The Orions say they were harassed and attacked first elsewhere."
"And what of the other houses?" I asked.
He continued, "Generally, the way I understand it, the Orions were intercepted and some of their people taken by the Federation. And when the Federation put these women on trial elsewhere, the Orions went about escalating things. Got their persons back but have engaged in a....what is it?...money warfare here for a while till the Great Houses were convinced to bring in the Myrmidons to get the Federation off the planet. There was a large skirmish at the landing pad with the Myrmidons and Federation. Then the Federation shot down an orbital station. Both sides constantly claiming all they want is peace. Most barbaric if you ask me."
"Like the call for justice, everyone wants it but not if it involves them in the settling of accounts." Even as I said it, I thought I sounded too cynical.
Zarco agreed with the statement however. Perhaps he was being polite. "Indeed," he replied, "it is unfortunate that they are not like my own people and have more civilized ways of settling inter-personal conflicts."
"So what do you think will happen next?" I asked, "in this conflict I mean."
"Things have calmed down a bit in recent times," he replied, "but honestly, until either one side is willing to back off or issues a challenge to the other, I cannot see this conflict getting any better before it flares up again."
I could see his point. "Well," I said, "perhaps they will start talking, even over things like the legality of certain weapons or the neutrality of hospitals."
"There was a recent proposal for the latter," answered Zarco. "Personally, I think it would be best if they had the....what is the term? ....reproductive organs to issue a one-on-one challenge to settle the matter for this planet."
"What do you mean?" I prompted.
"Are you not familiar with a personal 'Challenge of Champions' to settle disputes?"
"Yes actually," I replied, although often single combat between champions was a prelude to the battle proper. Sort of a pre-game show, to get the blood pumping. There were, however, one or two examples in the literature where it was alleged single combat was used to decide the whole contest. "So an Orion champion and a federationist champion meet to decide things for us all?" I asked.
"That is what I am suggesting," he said. "I admit it may be a bit too complex and take too long for them to work on, but I hear the natives of this planet use bladed weapons in personal challenges."
"Yes," I said, "but don't you think the other Houses, who may not be allied with either side, will want a say?"
Zarco replied. "I have actually spoken about it to the Zenobian house and the Reverend Mother. And they seemed to think it is a good idea. The difficulty is convincing the Orions and Federation to stop warring and agree to terms for the challenge."
"Indeed," I remarked "They are fussy about the forms of things here. Ancient traditions," I said. I also knew of my own people's preoccupation with the past. "I'm Zenobian by birth," I admitted. I might as well tell him, I thought. It was a small thing to reveal and easy to discover with a little searching.
"Ahhh, I see," he said, "Yes, the head of the Zenobian Embassy here mentioned that there had to be proper forms, though I generally think that at this point in time they can be sidestepped as there has been no forms followed up until now."
"Perhaps," I answered vaguely.
"Well," he conceded, "or at least some parts can be changed to accommodate such different groups."
"I have to wonder what the native tribes think of the matter," I said aloud, "Basically you have off worlders fighting off worlders."
"They have the same attitude," said Zarco, "I have observed of 'let them fight it out'... though the anger at the fact that the station that was destroyed fell upon one of their desert villages was rather high."
"Have you seen any sign of native group involvement?" I asked.
"Not yet," he replied, "Though both sides have claimed that the indigenous persons here are who they are acting on behalf of. The Orions because they want them to remain free, and the Federation claims that they have been here for the longest time and have helped the native population become more self sufficient. I personally think both sides should either challenge each other or lock the leaders of both sides in a room till they make an agreement or starve."
I laughed, a touch harshly.
Zarco shrugged, "I imagine the outcome would be interesting. But before you lock them in the room, let them know that if one kills the other that the survivor looses and will have penalties imposed."
"Still," I insisted, "there are so many sides here, each with their own interests. I just can't see them letting it all ride on one contest." I nodded toward the Wyrmgo machine. "Would you bet all your earnings on one go?"
"Well," he replied,"it is only the parts that are openly killing each other in warfare, that do not belong here on the planet. And if the Federation and Orions wish to fight it out amongst themselves elsewhere, that is not my concern."
"What would your concern be then?" I asked.
"It's only here is suffering, damage and death that was not asked for," he replied, "One thing you should understand is I follow the Rule of Life, which means that all sentient life is to be protected as much as possible. but part of it is understanding that you are not omnipotent and cannot defend life everywhere. Just do what you can where you are...."
I listened quietly.
"...which means," he continued, "if this challenge fails and they insist on fighting it out, then I have done all I can and will just have to sit back and wait for it to finish."
"Sounds reasonable," I said, "Do what you can, but realize you have limits."
"Well, it is the closest thing to a religion I adhere to," he expanded, "Since without sentient life, the universe would be a boring place."
I chuckled, "Yes it would."
"I just hope this conflict finishes before the entire planet is turned to a radioactive chunk of fired glass," he added.
It did not feel like a reference to our actions on Shadow. It may have been a coincidence. Naturally, I let the comment pass.
"If you hear of anything interesting," I said, "please give me a call."
"Well," he answered, "I hope you will understand I would hope that I would never have to contact you for those reasons, and would instead contact you for another interesting discussion."
"Of course," I replied, "but conflicts have a nasty way of getting out of control."
"Yes," he agreed, "which is the mystery of it all. Knowing that they get out of control, how is it that intelligent life can enter into such willingly?" He shook his head and sighed, "Ah well, I imagine they fall prey to what I call the 'Last Resort' excuse."
"And what is that?" I asked, with a smile.
Zarco explained, "Where they justify that they had no other choice. That they aren't willing participants but reluctant, even as they lasergun someone's torso off."
A gruesome image.
"Yes," I said, not wanting to debate the point without more time, "the desperate actions of a few."
"I wonder where that comes from," he mused, "an intellectual reasoning of a primal instinct to destroy and maim?"
I shook my head, "Humankind has wondered about that for centuries..."
"Obviously not worried about it much," he remarked, "considering that their history is filled with warfare and death."
"Well, you must excuse me Zarco."
"Oh, of course my friend," he smiled and nodded deeply, "And thank you for the interesting conversation."
"Yes," I agreed, "this was interesting indeed."
Zarco bowed and smiled, "May the Sands and Sun be kind to you, my friend."
I smiled and dipped my head in return. "Thank you," I replied, "Farewell."
I knew from an early age that I was neither graceful nor beautiful.
No one asks the plain girl to dance, especially when she can quote in Latin. Unless, of course, you are trying to get her to do your homework.
I was not part of their world but I felt I could understand it, in a way that one only can when excluded and forced to look in from the outside.
But I see a woman who has made a professional decision to bring grace and beauty to this harsh, cold world. Through music. Poetry. The art of dance. The art of conversation. The art of love...
Outside of the Core, the highest concentration of Alliance personnel was Boros. This was due in large part to the presence of the Iskellkian Military Shipyard on the moon Ares. A full battalion, operationally ready, was stationed in the area.
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