First Contact

Chapter 777: The Inheritor's War

"Don't believe the stories and tales from the people who were there. Memory is a tricky thing that always seeks to make the person seem more important and better than they are. Trust in the historians who examine and weigh the evidence of the past. Unlike the people who claim to be there or were present and/or took part in the events, the historians aren't limited by scope and what was common knowledge at the time, allowing them to construct the truth from the lies, half-truths, and misremembered events.

"Memory is mutable, facts and evidence are not." - Terran Historian, Post-Glassing

Elurta Limberton was either fifteen or twenty, depending on how his age was determined.

If one went solely by time progressions for the universe at large only four years had passed since the Atrekna had invaded Hesstla the first time when he was eleven years old.

If you went by how time had gone by on Hesstla itself he was around twenty years old, time on Hesstla progressing faster than the rest of the universe due to Atrekna temporal warfare. Medical scans were of no help, as he was different than the baseline Hesslan due to how he had survived during the War Years.

He was different from the other Hesstlan who were in the last year of Secondary Education. He was taller, for one, broader across the shoulders and chest. He was more muscular than they were, with longer ears and stronger hands.

The doctors had said it was the DNA/RNA repair sequencing from the anti-radiation shots he had taken so often during both of the invasions. The nanites in the 'shots' had repaired 'damage' to his genetic code that the nanites had detected.

Elurta had learned in had come from genetic engineering done by the Overseers on his people. A thing called 'gentling' that had intended on turning his people back into savages or maybe even turn them back into dumb animals.

Instead, the Precursor Autonomous War Machines had invaded, the Terrans had fought them off, then the Atrekna had attacked twice, interrupted the Lanaktallan's plans, and eventually overthrown the Unified Council and freed all the people of Council territory.

Elutra sat down at the desk, putting his foldable computer in front of him and setting it up to record the class so he could go over it for notes.

It wasn't his favorite course and he had a tendency to try to block it out at times.

Contemporary History - The Second Precursor War

Elu sighed, rubbing the scar on his forearm that was hidden by his soft mocha colored fur. His mind drifted back to when he had gotten it.

the Red Tip screamed and swung a knife Elu had missed, the knife slicing through the sleeve of his heavy work coveralls, his his heavy winter shirt, his thermal underwear, and his skin as easy as a hot knife through butter.

The Red Tip grinned, lifting the knife with the blood on it.

'Cut you, kid," the Black Eye slurred, leering at Elu for a split second before looking at the blood. He obviously expecting Elu to grab his arm and start whining.

Elu grabbed the Black Eyes by the front of his shirt, yanking him close, and driving the knife into the Red Tip repeatedly until the body went too heavy for his twelve year old arms to hold up.

There was a beep from the medcomp on his wrist and Elu felt a cool sensation run up his arm and down his spine as the medication was injected.

The memory vanished and Elu blinked a few times rapidly to recenter himself.

The teacher, a Hesstlan in their late forties, moved up to the front of the class and behind the podium. She twitched on ear as she tapped the podium with a heavy ring, the clack sound echoing through the small lecture hall that contained almost fifty Hesstlan between the ages of sixteen and twenty-three.

Elu sat up straight, wishing he could be anywhere else.

"Turn, page, or hyperlink to Chapter Eighty-Three, Civilian Surface Sheltering of the Second Atrekna Invasion," the teacher said.

Elu looked down and hit the hyperlinks, moving through the electronic document straight to the chapter.

A surface camp appeared on the image at the top of the chapter. Heavy guns on the walls that were made of ferrocrete and endosteel, small buildings inside, point defense stations on the wall. It was labeled "New Relkrint" underneath.

"Today we'll be covering the larger settlements outside of the shelter. Not the Confederate military ones, but civilians ones that formed with the failures of the Confederate military to protect the civilian shelters and refugee points," the teacher said.

There was something in the female teacher's voice that made Elu look up from his textbook and pay attention.

The teacher clicked the control on her podium and the wall behind her lit up.

Elu felt his mouth go dry at the sight of the image.

Walls built of inoperative cars, debris, ferrocrete, wood, endosteel scraps. Farms around the wall being worked by Hesstlans. The camp was large, with patrols in the farms and fields, on the walls.

"Camp Red-Two," the teacher said. "One of the most successful civilian run refugee camp, accepting those who had to flee underground shelters or military run refugee points."

Elu wiped his mouth, staring at the image.

"Housing nearly six thousand Hesstlan civilians, they built farms, houses, and a military structure to protect one another with the failure of the Confederate military forces," the teacher said. She flicked one ear almost smugly.

"A large part of their grouping was a quasi-religious cult-like religion centered around placating a figment of their collective imagination," the teacher said.

The image changed to a massive statue of a Hesstlan wearing a grav-ski mask and holding a long heavy blade. It was crudely made, the pieces of metal hammered and twisted and bent into shape.. Blood dripped from the blade and fires were lit in the eye sockets.

"The citizens of Red-Two believed that by worshiping the figure, known as the Lake Dweller, they could placate it into not destroying their camp," the teacher said. "Superstition and fear based religion is often a coping mechanism for high stress situations as individuals and groups look for a higher power to explain the world around them."

The picture clicked again.

A group of eight Hesstlan appeared. Five females, three males, dressed in work clothing, carrying guns and blades, were all glaring at the camera.

The tips of their ears were dyed red.

"Ad-hoc military forces protected the camp and any who approached it, sheltering everyone that had been failed by the Confederate military," the teacher said. Her ears flicked with smugness. "The civilian camp of Red-Two gave the occupants peace and safety, with plenty of food, for the five years of the war."

Elu swallowed thickly.

His medcomp bracelet beeped twice.

"The Hesstlan people in Red-Two banded together in a time of intense danger to support one another, even without the government or Confederacy's help, ensuring that as many people could survive as possible. With their farms and industry, many survived who otherwise wouldn't have thanks to the heroism and efforts of the leadership of paramilitary force of Camp Red-Two."

The teacher flicked the controls and the picture changed to the farm.

Elu recognized it as the farm closest to the road. There was a hundred Hesstlan working it, all under the watchful eyes of four Hesstlan standing on the back of a flatbed truck, holding rifles as they stared at the workers.

Elu could see the red line on the road that demarked their world from his sister's lake.

"Vigilance and hard work by the Hesstlan of Red-Two ensured that the good people of the camp had plenty to eat when many surface refugee camps were undergoing starvation and deprivation," the teacher said. "The leadership of Red-Two were fair and generous to the people of the camp."

Elu tried to stop himself, tried not to say anything.

"They were murderers, rapists, and cannibals," Elu said softly.

The teacher stopped her lecture, turning and staring.

"Who said that?" she asked.

More than a few of his fellow students pointed at Elu.

"What did you say?"

His bracelet beeped twice and he felt the injection run up his arm.

"Nothing," Elu said.

"And I suppose you know better than the historians that gathered the witness accounts and examined the evidence on the site?" the teacher asked, almost mildly, the tips of her ears twitching. "Historians that carefully documented witness statements, catalogued evidence, and examined the sights?"

Elu shook his head. "No, teacher."

She put on hand on her hip.

"Do you think you know more than those of us who wrote textbooks like the one you are looking at," she said.

"I'm sorry, nevermind," Elu said, hanging his head.

"Young man, I assure you, that whatever you have heard is just salacious rumor. Confederate propaganda to rob the Hesstlan people of their bravery and endurance during those harsh years," the teacher said. She snorted and turned back to the screen. "I'm sure, though, that your adolescence in the underground shelters gave you a complete picture of what was happening on the surface unlike those of us who spent long months after the invasion examining evidence of the most significant event in recent Hesstlan history."

Elu went to open his mouth and closed it, his hand dropping down to rub his thigh where the old bullet scar was aching.

The Red Tip panicked and starting firing into the brush. One of the rifle rounds skipped off a rock, exploding it into dust. It was tumbling when it hit his thigh guard, whipping him around as his leg was shoved back hard. He landed on his back, his whole leg going tingly and burning with a white hot chunk of agony where the rifle round had enough kinetic energy left to penetrate the thin armor.

His bracelet beeped again as he checked the front of the textbook.

The teacher's name was there.

The picture changed again, showing the rough shelters inside the camp.

Elu had never seen them before.

The buildings were built of scavenged supplies. Some frames didn't have glass or plastic in them, just rough curtains made of rags over them. The roofs were different styles, some a singly slant angle, some flat, some with a slight peak.

Looking close, Elu could see that some doorways had red on them, others had white.

The ones with the white ear tips had worked the fields.

"Forced to rely on what they could repurpose from the surrounding towns that had been bombed out by Confederate or Atrekna forces, the leadership of Camp Red-Two ensured everyone had security and as much comfort as could be managed even as the Confederate military fought the Atrekna much longer than they needed to. As it came out after the war, the Confederate Armed Services extended the war at least three years in order to use our planet as a test-bed for weaponry and tactics, regardless of the cost to the civilian populace," the teacher said.

Elu glanced around.

His classmates had their heads down, taking notes, only glancing up now and then.

The image changed and showed a group of Red Tips surrounding three cars with guns and blades, a large truck blocking the road. The cars were on the highway, the forest on one side. The image suddenly started moving, without sound, showing the camera moving down the line of cars. One of the Red Tips would reach in and grab the passenger or driver by the ears, making sure that the camera got a good view of the occupants' faces.

Cataloguing, Elu realized.

"Camp Red-Two ensured that travellers, refugees, and escapees from the Confederate camps were offered peace and security," the teacher said. "First by recording who they encountered."

"Then by searching their belongings to make sure they weren't smuggling any Confederate or Atrekna devices that might put the community in danger," the teacher said.

The Red Tips started pulling everything out of the cars.

"As well as confiscating weapons to prevent any newcomers from attempting to take over the camp," the teacher said.

The image changed to the road again. This time at night. In the video it was raining, the sky dark with clouds. Two Red Tip guards were pointing guns at three people at the side of the road.

The forest side.

"Punishment was exile," the teacher said. Her voice sounded particularly pleased. "Once someone was exiled they weren't allowed back. This ensured that violence was not a method of maintaining control."

One of the shapes made Elu look a little closer.

"Exiles were marched the well demarked border of Camp Red-Two and forced to leave with only the clothing on their back and three days of food and water. While there was rumors of some kind of supernatural force in the wilderness, it was more a superstitious explanation for why people who entered the forest did not return," the teacher said. "In hindsight and reconstructions, it is believed there was Atrekna leadership in the forest."

The shape didn't look right to Elu.

Elu blinked twice when he realized what he was seeing.

His own face staring out of the woodline, hidden in the ferns. Camouflage on his face, ferns taped to his ears, one eye closed, the other open and watching.

"Much more merciful than what was happening in the refugee camps run by the Confederacy," the teacher said, her voice seeming to smirk to Elu.

Elu clenched his teeth and closed his eyes.

The bracelet beeped three times.

The teacher looked around in confusion. "Who's beeping?" she asked.

"Me," Elu said, opening his eyes. "Where did you get this information on that camp?"

"Witness recollections and statements as well as physical evidence," the teacher said, folding her arms and leaning them on the podium. "Entirely scientific for historical reconstruction."

"And you were part of it?" Elu asked.

The teacher nodded. "I was," she gave a slight smirk. "I suppose you have much more input on this."

Elu nodded. "Where were you during the war?"

The teacher rolled her eyes. "On the surface," she said. "Unlike those like you, I had to endure the rigors of surviving without the guns of the Confederacy or the walls of the shelters."

Elu nodded again. "Were you in Camp Red-Two?" Elu asked softly, making sure his voice sounded curious and impressed.

The teacher smirked again. "Where I was is not important, young man."

Elu stood up.

The teacher opened her mouth.

"OUR WORLD!" Elu screamed out.

The teacher answered reflexively.

"HIS LAKE!"

His bracelet started beeping rapidly as the teacher gaped at him, trying to speak but only making sputtering noises.

-----

Elu watched as the black garbed figure walked down the stone paver path, the front of her dress not moving, the wind making her veil ripple and flutter. She was taller than any other Hesstlan, broader even than Elu, although she was a female and females were, on average, larger than males.

The figure stopped at the gap in the waist high stone wall.

"Elu," the voice was raspy and rough.

"Bree," Elu said. He swallowed, feeling tears rise up.

"I heard there was a problem," Dambree said softly. She reached out, holding her gloved hand out. Elu took it with both hands, lifting it up and pushing Dambree's hand against the side of his face. He gave a low sound of pain and rubbed his cheek against Dambree's gloved hand.

Dambree waited a moment for her brother to recover, the cold wind snapping around them, plucking at her clothing with icy fingers, trying to get at her warm skin.

Finally, Elu looked up. "One of my teachers got exposed as a Red-Tip who was missed in the mopup," Elu said. He clenched a fist. "She pretended to be a slave and got away, then..." he paused for a moment. "Then she wrote a book and part of a textbook claiming the Red Tips were just a peaceful community providing comfort and care for the survivors on the surface."

"Hiding her sins beneath lies," Dambree said. She reached up and rubbed the side of Elu's head. "She was exposed, at least."

Elu struggled with his emotions for a moment, then took his sister's hand again, holding it in both of his. "How are you, Bree?"

Dambree shrugged. "Some days are better than others since I returned from service most profound."

Elu was silent for a moment before he blurted it out. "Do you still love me?"

Dambree nodded. "More than I love myself."

Elu's eyebrows went up as Dambree took a full step off of the convent grounds, reached out and gathering him close in a hug.

"I will always love you, no matter what," Dambree said as she hugged her brother. "Forever and ever, even after I am gone, I will always love you."

On the widow's walk the Mother Superior watched silently.

-----

The chapel was quiet but not silent. The murmurs of prayers, whispered hymns, wordless noises that were all some could make, and the squeaking of the pews as those who could do nothing but rock back and forth did so before the statue of the Digital Omnimessiah and the stained glass picture of the First Joan, the Initiate, and The Father.

Dambree knelt in prayer, her head bowed, whispering words of faith and duty.

Dambree could smell her, hear her, feel her as she moved up.

A hand settled on her shoulder.

"Is he well?" Mother Superior asked.

"As well as he can be," Dambree said, not opening her eyes, her fingers tracing over the spent casings that she had collected and woven together with hair. Each casing has etching of names.

Daxin-Phillip

Peter-Marco

Menhit

Vuxten

Matthias

And other names. All of those she had witnessed with her own eyes.

The largest casing, a .70 caliber round, had ones and zeroes engraved into it.

The Digital Omnimessiah.

Dambree could hear the heavy steps of the Dying Joan approaching.

"You taught him strength, self-reliance, and other things that will help him endure the trials that all of us must face," the Mother Superior said. "For him, his healing has far to go and he does not have the solace of this blessed place.

Dambree nodded, still keeping her eyes closed, as she felt the Dying Joan move up next to the Mother Superior.

"He will endure," Dambree said, her voice low as her fingers traced over the shell casings, felt the tightly braided hair that connected the casings.

Hair given to her by Menhit the Singer as a goodbye gift.

"As do you," the Mother Superior said.

Eyes still closed, Dambree nodded.

"But," the Mother Superior said, making Dambree look up. "Perhaps the time has come..."

-----

He was old enough, technically, to move out on his own.

Still, he sat on the couch, next to his aunt Fenn, as his aunt watched the Tri-Vee. His uncle was on the other side of the room, in a recliner, holding a sleeping two year old.

I don't want the baby born here, Elu heard Dambree's voice.

He could hear the hissing of the rain outside, feel the building tremble with the thunder.

The Elven Court cleaning the atmosphere and the soil with rain.

There was a sudden chime at the door.

"I'll get it," Elu said. He got up, feeling tired and slightly sore. He hadn't been back to school since the teacher had yelled back "HIS LAKE!" reflexively.

He moved down the short hallway, stopping in front of the door. His fingers shook as he reached for the speaker button.

"Answer the door, ninny," Truba'an said, coming into the hallway. Pulngee stepped out of the dining room where she had been doing her homework.

"Who is it?" Nee asked.

The door was silent.

"Answer the door, Elu," Tru said.

The chime rang again.

Elu opened the door just as a flash of lightning backlit the person standing there.

They were massive in size and bulk, filling out their modest dress with muscle and bone.

"You need assistance," the figure said.

Elu closed his eyes and nodded.

"May I come in?" the figure asked.

Elu choked back a sob as he nodded.

Dambree stepped into the hallway, wrapping her brother in another hug.

"I am here. Hold tight to me and I shall be your beacon in the darkness," Dambree said.

Tru and Nee gave a wordless cry of joy and rushed forward, grabbing their brother and their oldest sibling into a hug.