Courage After Fire Aris Merquoni The Tap'annu(and all their assorted history) are intellectual property of Patrick Stewart(zibzib.sandwich.net). The words, in the order I present them here, belong to me. -- -- -- Tamn'jioch was hatched with the name Tamn-schira'Yyrlutali'isHaaxae-Semgracha-mnahtahae'jioch, a year after Uji'ax was declared the first Sai of the new Hierarchy. He grew up on the colony world of Tuj Iluti'ahali as Uji'ax instrumented the Strengthening, as news of the eventual return of the Chehuin menace on the border settled into the general consciousness. The Coming War became a mutter under the breath, a chill up the spine, something inevitable to be prepared for. But none of this troubled Tamn'jioch as he grew and played under the airtight domes and artificial lights of his home. His father and Potaet, Alt'jioch, was very careful to never mention the coming war in Tamn'jioch's presence, and instead regaled his son with the books he was writing, about a perfect society where everyone was wealthy. "Great things are coming," he'd tell his son. "The new Heirarchy will make us strong. Look already at what Uji'ax has done! We have nothing to fear in all this galaxy. The stars are ours." Tamn'jioch's mother would shake her head, and worry. -- Tamn'jioch was nine when the Chehuin came to Tuj Iluti'ahali. Frightened, panicking, his family piled into the evacuation ships with what little they could carry. Clutching one of his Potaet's precious books, Tamn'jioch looked down on his home as the ship pulled away from the gravity well. He could later remember thinking how fragile the domes looked on the expanse of dark sand, like bubbles clinging to a rock. It was the last time he saw Tuj Iluti'ahali in Tap'annu hands. -- Tamn'jioch was eleven when reports started coming in about isHaaxae. His father went into the sleeping quarters their family shared on the Tsasyai refugee station, and an hour later came out and burned all his manuscripts. His writings on utopia now seeming foolish dreams, he turned his mind to dystopia, and the end of all things. Tamn'jioch changed his name to Tamn-schira'Alttsasyai'Atollis-Semgracha-mnahtahae'jioch, to honor his father and now oldest remaining relative, and tried to mourn for the family he had never known, wiped away by the Chehuin. -- Tamn'jioch was seventeen when he joined Space Defense Group. Beaming with pride, his parents watched as he boarded the DGS _Gliding Light_, a midsized cruiser on the way to the slowly constricting border. He watched from the bridge as Tsasyai Station faded to a glimmering speck on Atollis' horizon, and then as homeworld itself faded to a tiny sparkle of blue-green. He turned his eyes to his instruments, and tried not to wonder when he'd see his family again. -- Tamn'jioch was twenty-one when the _Gliding Light_ was shot out from underneath him. He'd been promoted by his fellows for his rapid thinking, and had lead section command thrust upon him when Moji'tor Tiah was promoted to Shipmaster. Tamn'jioch rose to the challenges gladly, and was still giving orders when the explosion rocked the ship. One of his officers managed to drag them both to safety, and their escape pod was recovered by the _'ax's Fire_ during the retreat. -- Tamn'jioch turned twenty-two while unconscious in the _Fire_'s medical quarters. It wasn't until they reached Aton'jicha station that he opened his eyes. A gentle hand pressed against his forehead. "Rest," someone told him. "We're doing our best for you." "I thought I was dead," he said wonderingly. A face swam into view, with that same warm-caring female voice. "I'll change that opinion soon enough," she said. "I'm Jita'su Semlarilu. You're on Aton'jicha station, and you'll be all right." Over the next month, Tamn'jioch found himself falling in love. Her name was Jita'su, and she was the dawn breaking over the black sands of Tuj Iluti'ahali, she was starlight on the wings of starships arcing over the station, she was the tail of the Sathji comet that blazed past the system in the third week of his convalescence. She helped him as a patient, then sat and talked with him when she learned his family, too, had lost many on isHaaxae. She had trained to be a doctor since the war started, and had finally become Semlarilu on the ship _Blooming Flower_, launching from Atollis only a year before. The _Flower_, like Tamn'jioch's own ship, had gone down in the line, and Jita'su was assigned to the station to help cope with the influx of wounded. She calmed his rages just by being herself, optimistic every day that their fleet would push the Chehuin back and bring peace to the Tap'annu. "The Chehuin aren't stupid," she would say, "They'll leave us alone if we simply hit them hard enough. But that's your business, not mine," and she would smile, and it would be like suns blazing in his heart, a wildfire catching in his veins. He would reach out for her hand, and she would take his, and there would be peace for just that moment. In early 6590, the Chehuin were dangerously close to the Aton'jicha station. Tamn'jioch had taken a comission on the _'ax's Fire_, the ship that had saved his life, and he petitioned the shipmaster to let Jita'su on as extra medical staff. Mano'nell Th'unila agreed, and convinced the station to let her go. Thus when the fleet had to retreat again, back past the Sathji system, Jita'su was with him and not on the crumbling starbase. Tamn'jioch watched the burning, twisting metal as the Chehuin hammered the fleet and the starbase, and tried not to think of what might have been as they slipped into oblivion. -- Tamn'jioch was nearly twenty-three when they reached their next stand, Sttan'chal-A station, orbiting a dying sun. Sttan'chal-A was a huge military outpost, with an extensive ship-repair dock and small compliment of civillians as a permanent population. Tamn'jioch and Jita'su took their leave-time to stroll in the station's gardens, watch the light shows from the star they orbited, and finally to find a chapel to formally join paths. Jita'su was asked to stay on at the station, and worried when Tamn'jioch left with the _'ax's Fire_ to batter at the Chehuin fleet again. "I'll be safe here," she told him, worry in her voice, "But they'll be shooting at you." "I'll return to you," he promised. They spent their last night together reading poetry at one another and laughing. He told her of his father's plans for a perfect universe. She told him of the blue skies of Atollis. They watched the hydrogen wheel out of the dying sun on their viewscreen, and when nothing more was to be said, they slept. The _'ax's Fire_ slipped into the inky blackness, and Tamn'jioch with it. They met the Chehuin ships and overcame them, forcing the line back day by bitter day. Finally, reinforcements arrived, letting some of the ships slip quietly back to Sttan'chal-A, and safety. Tamn'jioch fled to Jita'su's arms, and she would whisper dreams of peace in his ear, and he would be content. -- Tamn'jioch was twenty-four when the light in the universe died. The _'ax's Fire_ had reports from a scout that Chehuin reinforcements were appearing on the other side of the line. Hoping to take the small group they could track before the new ships appeared, Hchat'sesso Ghos commanded the fleet to slip toward the Chehuin fleet, and attack. The plan backfired. The majority of the fleet was caught between the two Chehuin battle groups, and struggled to break free. Damaged, the fleet surged back to Sttan'chal-A, determined to evacuate the station and run before it was too late. It was too late. A small Chehuin strike force had paved the way for two massive cruisers to strike at the all-important starbase. Damaged as the fleet was, Hchat'sesso Ghos ordered them to attempt a rescue. One of the cruisers was destroyed. The other backed off. But the commander of the damaged Chehuin vessel, sensing his mortality, turned the ship and fired the engines, sending the dying hulk straight at the station. The flare from the starbase's death blotted out even the sun from the main screens. Tamn'jioch didn't know the gunner that he knocked from his seat, but he found himself firing one of the _Fire_'s cannons at the second Chehuin cruiser with a fury he didn't comprehend until the fuses blew and the targeting screen blanked out. He stared at the black screen until Mano'nell Th'unila came and told him they had slipped away. -- Tamn'jioch was forty years old when Mnoth'jioch Sai'tahth died of a stroke. In that time, he had stuck to his position as a section leader of the _'ax's Fire_, neither seeking nor particularly attracting attention for promotion. And if Mano'nell Th'unila ever commented on his steely-eyed devotion to duty, well, he was bound to serve his Shipmaster, not answer him. Mano'nell was promoted to Anrah, and again to Ghos, by the time Tamn'jioch got news of Mnoth'jioch's death. -- Tamn'jioch was forty-one when he disembarked at Itaka station, surveying one of the last civillian outposts to be converted for the war effort. Not even stopping at the bars or eateries that the others on leave were aiming towards, Tamn'jioch found himself a space at one of the observatory windows and stared out over the surface of the planet below. Itaka the planet was gearing up for war, as the other worlds this close to the border were doing. But Tamn'jioch could see the Tap'annu cities below, outlined in golden light on the dark side of the terminator. The sunlight slowly crept over the green-brown landmasses, no doubt calling to life the farmers and tradesmen in the Itakan cities it touched. Tamn'jioch shook his head. *We brought them civilization, glimpses of the stars,* he thought. *And now, because of us, the Chehuin are casting their eyes on their world.* Again he thought of his father's writings, and of Jita'su. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" a voice at his shoulder said. Tamn'jioch blinked and turned his head to see a man in civillian clothing standing beside him, looking over the world below. He looked back at Tamn'jioch and smiled. "I always think that this is what Atollis must have looked like, before the 'amanuti." Tamn'jioch found himself smiling back, slightly. "Minus the spaceport, of course." "Of course. What about you, Tiah? You look like you've been around a while." Tamn'jioch wondered at the ease with which this civillian read military ranks, but then, war *had* made soldiers universal. "I... yes. I came from... from Tuj Iluti'ahali." He hadn't spoken the name of his home since Jita'chu had died. "'We Made It,'" the man repeated thoughtfully. Then he fixed Tamn'jioch with a level stare. "We will, you know. We're going to win." Tamn'jioch stared at him. "I... of course... What do you mean?" The man laughed and flung a hand at the window. "They, *them*," and he managed to make the pronoun into an insult, "They are fighting for conquest. For revenge. For some bizzare religious reason, according to the best information we have. And us?" Again, the pronoun carried more meaning than it ought. This stranger almost turned the word into a benediction. "We're fighting for our homes. For our children." Another smile. "For Tuj Iluti'ahali." Tamn'jioch stared at him. The man nodded at the window again. "Those Itakans... they're counting on us. We met them... what, two hundred and fifty years ago? If the Chehuin found them, they wouldn't have a chance. But since we found them, why... we can give them the stars." The man's eyes glittered dangerously. "I don't intend to renege on the promises we made them." Tamn'jioch was about to answer, when something about the man's way of speaking caught his attention. 'we... I don't intend...' "Honored Sai!" someone called out in the distance. "Honored Sai! Please!" The man sighed theatrically, then grinned. "Well, show's over. They found me again." Tamn'jioch stared. "You mean..." A man in a plain security outfit pushed through the crowd to stand next to them. "Honored Sai," the security man said, "You are *not* to be out of our sight when we're in unsecured territory. It could be exceedingly dangerous!" "Nonsense," Prah'nell Sai, the most important person in the Heirarchy, said. "The honorable Tiah... what is your name, friend?" "Tamn'jioch, Honored Sai," he replied in a daze. "Just Prah'nell, please, Tamn'jioch. Oh, and this is Hui'ufto, my nanny." Prah'nell patted the security man on the shoulder affectionately, to Hui'ufto's obvious chagrin. "*Please*, Honored Sai," the security man said, desperation edging into his voice. "All right, all right. It's been nice talking to you, Tamn'jioch. I'll have to look you up sometime... what ship were you on?" "Ahh... the _'ax's Fire_, Hon- Prah'nell." Tamn'jioch watched the pair go, shaking his head, then turned back to the view. Tamn'jioch was forty-four when he was declared Th'unila of the _'ax's Fire_. He wasn't surprised, ten years later, when he heard about Prah'nell's capers with the Second Fleet. It seemed right that Prah'nell would keep his promise to Itaka. -- Tamn'jioch was sixty-four by the time he saw his next promotion. Prah'nell had died in battle, leaving the Five to select Joch'essa as the new Sai. The _'ax's Fire_, along with the rest of the Ninth fleet, had been selected by Joch'essa for a special project: to penetrate deeper into Chehuin space than ever before. And while they had managed to outmanuver most of the Chehuin navy over the last month... "He is no Prah'nell," Tamn'jioch muttered as he stared across the _Fire_'s viewscreens. Tai'chara, a young lady Touah who looked to be up for Th'unila when he left, looked up at his statement. "Joch'essa Sai, sir?" Tamn'jioch nodded. "Our very honorable Joch'essa Sai, who has us sneaking up on Dchej Ih for the greater glory of the Heirarchy." Tai'chara caught his dryness and smiled. "We'll do fine, sir." "For us, I have no doubts." His eyes snapped to the screens. "How are we tracking?" "Right up the _Gift of Power_'s arse, Th'unila, right where the right honorable Joch'essa Sai wants us, sir," the communications major replied. Tamn'jioch looked down his nose at the comm major. "Patt'essa," he said calmly, "One does understand pre-battle nervousness. One also hopes you will not malign the names of any more ships of the Ninth Fleet because of it." "Yes, sir," Patt'essa replied, chastised. "Well, then," Tamn'jioch said. "After a month of waiting... here we are at zero hour." "We get signal!" Patt'essa cried, then grimaced and said, "I mean, slipdrive and attack signal coming through, sir." The countdown appeared on the screen, a reassuringly large number that dwindled as the seconds passed. "On the Sai's signal," Tamn'jioch said. "Ready..." They tore into the Chehuin station and the moored fleet like a thunderbolt, scattering ships before them like autumn leaves on a typhoon. Ship after ship fell to the Ninth Fleet, Joch'essa howling victory as the starbase went up like a miniature sun. Tamn'jioch stared at the fireball until it hurt his eyes. *For you, Jita'su,* he thought. *That one was for you.* "Honored Sai!" One of the outrider Touahin was exclaiming over the radio. "One of the Chehuin fleets that we led off earlier is heading back for us. We're done with the starbase, sir. Your orders? Shall we leave for Tap'annu space?" "Engage them!" Joch'essa cried. The heady drunken feeling of victory left Tamn'jioch in a breath, leaving him slightly cold as he surveyed the system. "Are you sure, Honorable Sai?" he asked over the comm. "We've already taken out..." "We're still fresh!" Joch'essa replied. "We can take out one little task group! Onward, Tap'annu soldiers!" The cold feeling settled into Tamn'jioch's stomach and sat there like a leaden weight. Tai'chara Touah was staring at him, as if expecting him to countermand Joch'essa's orders himself and lead the fleet home. He took a deep breath, and focused his gaze on Tai'chara. "Move us into attack formation with the rest of the fleet." "Sir..." Tai'chara hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, sir." "He's right, you know," Tamn'jioch said. "We are still fresh." "Forgive me, sir," Tai'chara replied. "But I don't think you're convincing even yourself." "Eyes front, Touah," Tamn'jioch said. "The Chehuin group's almost within range." "And the second and third battle groups that we led away from this system?" "Thirty minutes ETA," Tamn'jioch snapped. "For the first group." Tai'chara paced in front of the Th'unila's chair. Finally she turned and said, "We could draw them out, closer to the line--" Tamn'jioch pointed to the comm set, which was still flooded with Joch'essa's battle plans. "Would you care to suggest that to the Honorable Sai?" Tai'chara scowled and went back to pacing. "The waiting is always the worst," he commented. "He *is* right, though," Tai'chara said suddenly. She gestured at the readouts. "We *are* fresh. Hardly damaged. So why do I feel such... foreboding?" "The second Chehuin group," Tamn'jioch said quietly. "Let's get this one and leave," Tai'chara said. The minutes counted down on the screen. Finally, the Chehuin task group was close enough to see. "Engage!" Joch'essa cried on all frequencies. The battle joined. The Ninth Fleet was a wall, the Chehuin only a wave, but the Chehuin ships clung tenaciously to life as they engaged and re-engaged the Ninth. Tamn'jioch found himself eyeing the fringes of the system as often as he was shouting commands. They had driven the Chehuin force back to half strength with no noticable damage when the second force showed up at the edge of the system. The frantic Th'unilae attempted to attract Joch'essa's attention, to no avail. "Destroy this group, first!" Joch'essa snarled. "I'll have him shot for mutiny that turns and runs! Onward! To glory!" Tamn'jioch narrowed his eyes, and ordered the _'ax's Fire_ on another Chehuin ship. If they could destroy this one group, they might have a chance. A running chance, but they'd have it. If they could get rid of these Chehuin before it was too late... It was too late. Before the first Chehuin task group was more than three-quarters destroyed, the second was nearly in range. The Chehuin broke off and regrouped with their fellows, who spread out to overwhelm the Ninth Fleet. Joch'essa, startlingly, did not order a head-on charge into the new battle group. Tamn'jioch could hear the Sai hissing darkly into the com, but after a moment's hesitation ordered the fleet back toward Dchej Ih. The badly outnumbered Tap'annu ships fell back to the gravity well, hoping to use the planet itself to facilitate their escape. It didn't work. The _Taloned Fireball_ was the first to go, at the tail end of the fleet and pounced on by the angered Chehuin. Joch'essa ordered a regroup around the remains of the starbase, and they turned to face the oncoming menace. They held together for a little more than half an hour before the _Gift of Power_ was torn apart by the Chehuin. That was when Tamn'jioch started *really* appreciating Joch'essa Sai. As long as the Chehuin had been concentrating on the _Gift of Power_, they hadn't been too worried about the rest of the Ninth. But now, the Tap'annu didn't have much of a chance. There were too many Chehuin ships, too well crewed, too fresh from patrol and too angry. The _Twilight Thunder_, the _Gate of Justice_ and the _Heirarchy's Pride_ were the next to go down before the relentless battering of Chehuin forces. Tamn'jioch watched the ships burn, some managing last futile bursts of thrusters to send their empty shells hurtling into Chehuin positions. "We're down to twelve ships, sir," Tai'chara said, voice hoarse. Another name went red, disappeared. She winced. "Eleven, sir." "Contact all remaining ships," Tamn'jioch ordered. "Tell them on my mark to fire a sustained burn toward the remains of the Dchej Ih base. Once we get there, slingshot around the planet toward sector..." he eyed the map. "Eighteen by thirty. That's far enough away from the planet. We're going to activate slipdrives when we're in the debris." Tai'chara sent him a startled look. "We can't do that, sir. Any debris caught in the slip will..." "We're going to do a short hop, on my mark, back *toward* the Chehuin battle group," he finished. "Sir, that's..." "Suicide," he finished for her. "Give the order." "Yes, sir," Tai'chara said. After she turned the com off, she turned back to him. "It's been a pleasure serving with you, sir." "Likewise, Touah." He watched the display. "Burn on my mark... mark!" The remains of the Ninth Fleet turned and fled the Chehuin, hurtling toward the spray of debris they had caused only a few hours before. The Chehuin followed, leisurely picking their targets. The Ninth fleet was reduced one more by the time they passed around orbit and reached the debris field. Tamn'jioch didn't bother to look at who it was. "Initiate slipdrive on my mark," he ordered. "Ready, sir." *For you, Jita'su...* "Mark!" When they flickered back into realspace, the superaccelerated debris punched through the ships of the Ninth Fleet, and the Chehuin ships that were recovering from the fight. It hardly turned the tide of battle, but it gave the Tap'annu in the three ships surviving the manouver the time they needed to turn and flee for home. -- Tamn'jioch was feeling very old indeed when the _'ax's Fire_ limped into port. The trip back from Chehuin space had taken two weeks, only half the time it had taken them to get in position for the strike. Fortunately, the Chehuin navy had been too distracted with finding two task forces obliterated at Dchej Ih to spend too much time taking on three half-destroyed Tap'annu ships. Tamn'jioch was given temporary quarters at Ra'jol Ji'eltuae station when he brought the _Fire_ in, along with the more badly damanged _Space-Night Hunter_ and the _Fist of Might_. The quarters were spartan, but they had a viewscreen on one wall tuned to the isHaaxae surface. He set down his travel kit and stared over the planet, trying to make out the city of Lutali, or what remained of it. It would have been at the juncture of the rivers, *there*... or *there*? No hint remained on the barren rock that Tap'annu cities had ever claimed the isHaaxae soil, though glimmers of light showed on the night side of the terminator. Irritable, Tamn'jioch ordered the screen to show a nightside view of the planet, and he relaxed as glittering webs of light criscrossed the darkened continent. *We made it,* he thought. *Ah, Tuj Iluti'ahali... Oh, Jita'su...* The door chimed, announcing a visitor. Tamn'jioch started at the noise, then crossed to the door and opened it. For a long moment, he didn't recognize the man outside. "Tamn'jioch Th'unila?" his visitor asked. "Yes... Mano'nell Ghos!" Tamn'jioch shook his head in amazement. "Forgive me, sir. It's been too long. Come in." Mano'nell smiled and stepped inside. "True enough. And we've both survived. Glad to hear you got the _Fire_... she's a good ship." "She'd be better if I could have kept her in one piece," Tamn'jioch said bitterly. "Space dust!" Mano'nell exclaimed. "Nobody expected you to do as well as you did, especially under Joch'essa. You know the Five had his replacement ready as soon as he left? Within ten minutes of your report getting in, Hacha'sesso was on the line telling everyone on Atollis he wasn't going to let the War collapse. And he wants to talk to you." "... Me?" Tamn'jioch stuttered. "Even after I... that damnfool... me?" "Yes, you. Don't you realize? Three-quarters of the Th'unilain in this sector want you declared Anrah, and most of the Anrahin don't think that's enough. Hell, even a fourth of the Ghosin around here are willing to bump you up to Ghos-A if you take the other two. Will you?" Mano'nell turned from the screen to fix Tamn'jioch with a stare. "Though I wouldn't blame you if you decided to go in hiding for a while. Joch'essa Sai was a little much for any Th'unila to handle." Tamn'jioch took a deep breath. "I'll take it," he said. "When does the Sai want to see me?" "As soon as you can make it back to Atollis. As long as you're taking the promotions, I understand he has a task force there he wants to give you. I think there's a ship we can lend you for getting there, or we can stick you on a courier if that doesn't work out." "That's probably best," Tamn'jioch said, wincing at the prospect of days aboard one of the miniature courier ships. "Though I never thought to be spending my service days as a message chit." Mano'nell chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Stretch your wings good before you get in. You won't have much of a chance after that until you reach Atollis." Atollis! He hadn't thought of Homeworld since... Atollis wasn't *his* home, though. Tsasyai station had been only a temporary residence before he joined SDG, and even then he'd never been closer to the surface than high orbit. He'd never seen blue skies overhead, the blue that Jita'su had thrived beneath. A week later, he stepped out of the spaceport into the open air, and stared. It was only a short stretch of blue sky, a courtyard for incoming SDG officers to stretch their wings before re-entering the catacomb of bureocracy, but for Tamn'jioch the prospect of anything surviving, unprotected, out in the open sunlight... "Spaceborn?" another officer, an Anrah by his uniform, asked. Tamn'jioch shook his head. "Domes." "Ahh." The Anrah shook his head. "Wait until you get out in the mountains. Ask for some real leave time up in the Isanain; you'll need it." "I'll remember that," Tamn'jioch said distractedly. And he did remember, but the best view that he ever got was on the transport that took him to the Sai's office, high above Thnar'ax-Itua's bustling streets. Tamn'jioch had been in close contact with two Saiin before Hacha'sesso. As he waited to be admitted to the Sai's presence, he wondered what this new Sai would be like. *I should have asked Mano'nell,* he thought absently as he was admitted. Hacha'sesso Sai was a lean figure in sharp civillian clothing. His eyes barely flickered from the three-dimensional map of the Line over the conference table as Tamn'jioch was led in. "Take a look," the Sai said bluntly. "What can you tell me that the Ghos-Aetin can't?" Tamn'jioch let his eyes linger over the representation, mouth tightening in satisfaction at the mass of yellow 'confusion' signals where Dchej Ih used to stand. "Probably not much, sir," he admitted after a moment. "Except..." he trailed off as he was suddenly the target of Hacha'sesso's formidable gaze. "Except?" Hacha'sesso prodded after a moment. "Without the Ninth, we're going to have a hole over Halitansira. The rest can't cover forever. We need to do something to capitalize on this," he pointed at Dcej Ih, "and soon." Amazingly, the Sai seemed to relax. "That's what I hoped you'd say," he said. Very carefully, Hacha'sesso reached out and touched five distinct Chehuin planets, changing their shade to an angry red. He looked back over at Tamn'jioch. Tamn'jioch stared back. "I don't understand." Hacha'sesso reached under the table, and suddenly the starmap was replaced by a view of a small fleet of SDG ships. "The _First Strike_, _Lightning Hand_, and _New Meteor_, plus assorted escort ships," he said. "The other two are being finished as we speak. I'd like you to take the _First Strike_ to Chdjil Akdhji," the Sai didn't even stumble on the Chehuin name, "and annihilate it." Tamn'jioch stared at thim. "Annihilate..." "The planet." Hacha'sesso's mouth quirked in a slight smile. "Not the ship." "But... Honorable Sai..." Tamn'jioch's eyes snapped back to the figure of the _First Strike_, hovering over the table. Now that he'd been warned, he could see where the normal lines of the ship had been altered, making room for the extra launching tubes that would carry, no doubt, huge numbers of weapons of nuclear proportion. Hacha'sesso placed his hands flat on the table. "Tamn'jioch Ghos, I need people like you. People who understand that this *is* a war, and we need to do something damned soon or we're going to be stuck here forever. We're already dying as a people. *I* can remember a time when there wasn't war, *you* can, but there's already two generations out there that remember nothing but stalemate against the Chehuin." The Sai took a deep breath, and pinned Tamn'jioch again with his stare. "Give me six years," he said, "and the tools I need, and I'll win this war." Tamn'jioch sent another agonized glance at the _First Strike_. "And these are the tools you need?" *"The World broke, the Clan shattered... Chaos was undammed, and burst upon the People..."* "A billion of our people have died," Hacha'sesso said grimly. "If it takes another billion, I will not have their souls paid only to have us live in bondage, or become lost forever." "And if it takes another 'amanuti?" Hacha'sesso was silent for a long moment. "Even to the edge of the 'amanuti," he finally said, "my soul will be at peace." -- Tamn'jioch was sixty-five years old when the _First Strike_ reached Chdjil Akdhji. The intercom chirped at him in his quarters. He raised a hand to answer it. "Sir?" Tai'chara said. "We're nearing Chdjil Ak... dhji. Three hours ETA." "Thank you, Th'unila. I'll be out... soon." "Right, sir," Tai'chara replied, and the line closed. Tamn'jioch stared into the mirror, meeting his own, tired eyes. Then he looked down to the scroll he was reading; a copy of the _Rages_ that his father had used, Alt'jioch's handwriting covering the margins. "I see another 'amanuti," his father had written. "The Heirarchy was to make us strong, to form a wedge to split the Chehuin attack open like a rotten fruit. Instead, we have formed a wall; one of bodies and steel, that the Chehuin are daily carving away. And it shall wear down our peoples until we are so bitter and fragmented that even the shadows of the 'amanuti will not stop us. And what then?" Tamn'jioch sighed and rolled the scroll closed, slipping it into the case and placing it back on its shelf. Then he reached out and let his fingers linger over a holo shot; Jita'su and him on their day of Joining, looking radiant... happy. Young. "We have the stars," he murmured. Oh, yes. But for how long? "Give me six years," Hacha'sesso had said. Tamn'jioch stared into Jita'su's eyes, glowing with life and joy. *Oh, Jita'su... for six years with you. For six months. For another day.* "Would you have wanted this?" he spoke to the image. "You were always speaking of peace. You told me the war was my department, that you were a healer, not a destroyer. Would you have let it to come to this?" Was it his imagination, or were her eyes filled with tears? He looked at his younger self, beaming with pride, hopeful for the future. A career, a lady, a future... oh, to be twenty-two again, and not to have to make these decisions. "The others are keyed to your signal," Hacha'sesso had said. "They'll be set to go, but you'll set the reaction off. _First Strike_." The Sai had given him a long, measuring look. "Some of my advisors think I should give this task to an older, more established Ghos... one of the Ghos-Ain already on the border, perhaps. But I think you know what we're fighting for." "We're fighting for our homes," Prah'nell had said. "For our children. For Tuj Iluti'ahali." "I'm fighting for you," a much younger Tamn'jioch had told his beloved. "No, Tamn," Jita'su had replied, "Not for me. For peace. To make the Chehuin respect us, instead of hate us. But not for me." Tamn'jioch stood, placed the holo back on his desk. He stretched out his wings, then folded them in the crisp military posture he'd been taught his first day at SDG Academy. Taking a deep breath, he headed to the bridge. The _First Strike_ had a command post for the Ghos, in a place where he could give orders but not take valuable command control away from the Th'unila. Tai'chara nodded to him from her chair as he took his seat. "How long?" he asked. "An hour and a half, sir," she replied. "No visuals yet." He'd spent that long since her call? Tamn'jioch shook his head. He must be getting senile in his old age. "Outriders see anything?" he asked. Tai'chara shook her head. "Nothing out of the ordinary. They'll be caught grounded." A sigh escaped her lips. "Just like Dchej Ih." "Not like that," Tamn'jioch reprimanded her. "Hacha'sesso is no Joch'essa." "Hardly," Tai'chara replied. Then she laughed. "I heard one of the men at base call his unthinking comrade a 'joch.' Apparently our previous Sai is going to be one of some renoun." Tamn'jioch smiled wanly, but could not laugh. Messages started coming in from other sections, and he sat back and watched as Tai'chara commanded. "We're getting visuals of the planet," Tai'chara said after a while. Tamn'jioch idly noticed that she wasn't attempting to pronounce Chdjil Akdhji's name again. "Would you care to see, sir?" Tamn'jioch nodded. "Yes, thank you, Th'unila." The enemy planet at last. He'd never seen a Chehuin world; though holograms had accompanied the reports of the Ush Qod invasion he hadn't had time to view them. He wondered what kinds of worlds the Chehuin called home. Chdjil Akdhji flickered onto the screen, and his breath caught in his throat. He'd heard that Rajollis was a newfound paradise, like Atollis before pollutants had clouded her atmosphere and oil slicked her shores, but this world was a perfect gleaming bluegreen jewel, seven or eight small continents or large islands dominating the view in this hemisphere, more landmasses stretching out on the other side. The terminator split the view into day and night, and he could see cities lining rivers, transforming the shadows into spirals of light. As the _First Strike_ neared, sweeping down on the planet from its north magnetic pole, a slight flare from the sun caused solar wind to sweep down upon the planet and light its upper atmosphere with reds and greens, crackling across the blue seas far below. Tai'chara sighed. "I wonder if we can colonize it, after..." she snapped her mouth shut quickly, darting a glance back in Tamn'jioch's direction. He smiled slightly at her. "After we finish?" She swallowed and turned her gaze back to the screen. "It... does seem a pity, sir." "Indeed," he whispered. The _First Strike_ crept closer, its outriders occasionally sending all-clear signals back to the bridge. Tamn'jioch's vision was still focused on the glittering planet below them, thinking. He was Ghos of this small fleet. If he felt it truly necessary, he had full power to turn the ships around and head somewhere else. The other strike fleets would still unload their nuclear firestorms, but he could spare this one, beautiful world from the chaos and destruction. He looked around at the warriors around him, brave men and women all, most of whom had never known peace in their lives. He stared down at his hands, clenched them into fists, and looked up at the view of Chdjil Akdhi again. *Oh, my Jita'su, you would have loved this sight... would you love me still, knowing what I have to do?* Tai'chara cleared her throat. He looked over at her. "We're nearly in position, sir," she reported. Only a Ghos could order the destruction they were to unleash. If he died now, the bombardment could not commence. Tai'chara would be unable to proceed... and Chdjil Akdhi might be spared. *Jita'su...* He raised his head and watched the seconds tick by on the screen. Finally he keyed the com to the command frequency, eyes leaving the view of the jewllike planet only for an instant. "On my signal," he ordered, voice firm, then paused. This was a time for reverence. The end of an era. "On my signal," he repeated, quieter now, "Let chaos be undammed, and burst forth upon the Chehuin." Tai'chara turned and stared at him, eyes wide at the near-blasphemy. He nodded at her, then watched as the countdown on the screen reached zero. It was too late. "Now." -- Tamn'jioch was seventy years old when he returned to Atollis for the last time. Hacha'sesso had asked for six years to win the war. It had taken him four. Tamn'jioch Ghos-A looked down at the ruined surface of Atollis from his room on Tsasyai station. He had requested--and recieved, after some work--the apartment that he had shared with his parents after fleeing Tuj Iluti'ahali. SDG was busy mopping up the last of Chehuin resistance, still, but the war had been settled by the double meteor impact on the Chehuin homeworld. "But what cost?" he asked, staring at the world spinning below. The beautiful green fields had been dying off since the Chehuin bombardment three years before, and many of the starfield-like groups of lights on the nightside had massive black holes where cities had simply ceased to exist. It looked very much like Chdjil Akdhi might have, if they had stopped halfway through the fleet action. The door chimed before he sank too deep into melancholy. Startled out of his reverie, he went to answer it. Tai'chara Ghos stood outside, resplendent in her new uniform. "Something amiss?" he asked her when she didn't say anything. Tai'chara shook her head, a slight smile on her face. "No, no, not at all," she said. "I just got back from police work around Halitansira. Another Chehuin force surrendered." "That's good news," he said, not entirely surprised. "Congratulations." "Thank you," she replied. They stood there for a moment, unsure how to continue. "Forgive me," he finally said. "Come in. Can I get you something to drink?" "No, thank you," she said, stepping inside and letting the door seal. "I'm due for a meeting with Thi'taka Ghos-Aet in a couple hours." Her eyes fell on his Joining-Day hologram, and she stepped over to view it. "Your partner?" He nodded, the familiar knot of pain tightening in his chest. "Yes. Her name was Jita'su." Tai'chara watched him for a moment. "Tamn'jioch..." she shook her head sharply. "Forgive me. It's not my place to ask." Tamn'jioch shrugged, stepped closer to her to look down at the small image. "She died on Sttan'chal-A. She..." he sighed. "She was everything." Tai'chara rested a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me?" He told her. How they'd met, how they'd grown close, and had so little time together before the War had stolen her away. Three hours and a bottle of thulat later, he was surprised when he saw the clock's red dial had slipped so far. "You've missed your meeting," he said guiltily. "It's all right," Tai'chara said, resting her hand on his wrist. "We've won the war. We'll have until the end of time. Thi'taka Ghos-Aet can wait." Tamn'jioch looked into her eyes, and smiled. And the deep-rooted ache finally let the warrior go.