The Siege of Shanxi

Chapter Thirty Eight: Of Duty and of Honour

"In a way, I am grateful to have been there for it. The dying hours of the First Contact War saw many events that convinced me of the goodness within the turian adversary. His chivalry toward the wounded, his honour toward the dead. I had been a POW before. Captured by rebels in Chechenya during my time in the Airborne Guards. No human ever granted me the dignity in defeat that an alien did." Brigadier General Oleg Petrovsky. 'Inter view with Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News, on Armistice Day, 2181, during a reunion between survivors of the Shanxi Garrison and veterans of the Seventh Legion.'

"Calling the First Contact War the 'Relay 314 Incident' is like calling the Festival of Unity on the Citadel a small gathering of intimate friends and family. It dishonours not just the rows of human bodies I saw upon that bloody morning, who nobly died to defend their people, but also the bodies of my friends and comrades, the Betrayed Bastards of the Seventh Legion who were tricked into throwing themselves against those defences. So that is why if Primarch Jhirx wants an apology for me calling his late sister a **** ********** who deserves to rot in ******** ********* alongside Desolas Arterius, then he can ******* *******. Thank you." Claw General Adrien Victus. Same interview.

FOOTHILLS OF WEYATA MOUNTAIN, NORTH OF OUTREACH CITY

BASE CAMP, SEVENTH LEGION UNDER COLONEL SEPTIMUS ORAKA

TOTAL LENGTH OF CAMPAIGN: THIRTY THREE STANDARD CITADEL CYCLES

Processed, tagged, fed and put to work by lunch. Harper had to admire the turians' sense of efficiency, even if he hated their guts.

The sun was beating down from on high in a typical stinking hot Shanxi day. Any heroic notions of sacrifice and courage that had seized Harper not to grab the first available seat in the flight off world. Instead he was here, helping clean up a battlefield.

"Shadforth, Ryan K." Eva's voice interrupted his chain of thought. "Lance Corporal. No religion. Serial number…"

"I don't care." His eyes travelled over the man's features briefly, then rolled up to meet Eva's angry stare.

"You're supposed to be writing these down." She reminded him.

"No. The turians told us to write this down. Or at least, some officer I've never met told me that the turians told me to write it down. I've had my fill."

On her knees next to the corpse's head, Eva followed his gaze to the cluster of command vehicles in the distance that housed the turian HQ. "Just let it go, Jack. We need this info as well. The dead have to be seen to."

Jack tossed the notepad next to her. "Then it can be seen to by their fellow soldiers. We're mercs, not clerks."

"Looks to me like we're prisoners either way." Eva met his gaze steadily. "And since mercs don't get the same privileges as uniformed soldiers when it comes to treatment under capture, then you'll swallow your bloody ego for a few minutes and help me."

She threw the notepad at his chest, hard enough to make him wince as it dropped into his hands. Fuming, he grabbed his pen again. "What was his name?"

-TSoS-

"What was his name?" Oraka asked quietly as Joaquim knelt over the body.

Joaquim closed the sightless eyes and made the sign of the cross over his friend's prostrate form before he replied. "Matthias Pressly. He was a good soldier. A good officer."

"A friend?"

"One of the best I had." Joaquim stood up. "He was meant to be going to a training command back on…well it doesn't matter now. He always said that he'd rather die in the field instead of his bed."

Oraka looked out past him, his eyes falling over the battlefield clearance teams removing the fallen from where they lay. "Many men make such boasts. I might have made it myself once."

"But not anymore?" Joaquim laid out the body bag next to Pressly's body. Oraka took position at his feet.

"Over two hundred of my men died last night. Three times that number wounded and that was just from a little over an hour of fighting. With the casualties piling up from this entire campaign, the Seventh Legion has lost almost half its fighting strength to death or injury. And that is only one third of the total casualties on this planet. I do not wish to think of the death toll of the civilians and your own command."

The two of them lifted Pressly's body onto the bodybag. Zipping it up, Joaquim turned back to the turian. "Why?"

Oraka cocked his head. "Why what?"

Joaquim indicated the bodies. "Why do you not wish to think about it? You were in on the invasion plans, weren't you? Helped put together your whole campaign? A bit late to be getting squeamish about it."

"Perhaps. If only your vessels had not fired unprovoked on our patrol, then perhaps…"

Joaquim wheeled on him. "What did you say?"

"If your vessels hadn't fired on…?"

"You think we started this war?" He continued to stare at the turian, unable to suppress his surprised expression. "You believe...so Arterius never told you?"

The turian continued to stare at him, giving no visible signs of confusion to Joaquim's eye, but flicking a mandible out to the right. "Told me what?"

Joaquim almost laughed. "That paranoid bastard...I'll be damned. Colonel, do you have somewhere private we could talk? I have a story I think you might want to hear."

-TSoS-

Bob passed Norman his bottle as his friend paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Would you care for a drink, Major Alenko?"

"Oh, I'd be delighted, Major McDevitt." Norman gave him a sardonic smile. "Will you take sherry in the officer's mess this afternoon?"

"No thanks, it might affect my swing for my afternoon round on the golf course." Bob caught the bottle as Norman pitched it back at him and took a generous swig. "Y'know, someone should have said that all those perks officers get to enjoy was just a peacetime thing."

Bending down, Norman lifted the legs of the next body onto one of the laid out body bags. "Perhaps. One perk they won't be able to take away will be the extra pay. A Major makes a lot more than a sergeant."

McDevitt chuckled. "You think they'll let you keep your oak leaves when we get back?"

"Oh, not those." His friend snorted. "But captain's bars? Yeah, maybe. First Lieutenant at least. May even send us all to OCS or Arcturus Academy."

"Stop counting those chickens, moose boy." McDevitt looked up at the top of the sand dune behind them, where a pair of turian soldiers looked down on them all with bored expressions. "I think we'll be lucky to get out of here alive."

"General gave a full surrender. Sent the words out to all three major cities and any militias in the mountains as well. Complete stand down. They've got no reason to kill us."

"Got the same reason to kill us that we have to kill them. We're still the enemy, PoWs or not."

Alenko looked at him askance. "You think these people execute prisoners?"

McDevitt glanced at the guards again. "I'm saying calling them 'people' is stretching the definition of the term. We could clean up the bodies, stack the guns, then get invited behind the hill for chow and meet a machine gun in the back of a truck."

"The General and their boss seem to have a rapport." Alenko pointed out.

"And that's great for the General, maybe for the civilians as well." McDevitt leaned closer. "How many guys do you have left?"

"About half my company survived. But most of them are civilians turned insurgents. They're happy enough to have gotten out of this with their lives."

"What about the old crew? Anyone from the Fourteenth left?"

Alenko considered it. "Hess is alive, but his hands got mangled when he threw Barber out of the way of a grenade. Barber's not going to be much use, she's pretty much glued to him."

"I thought they hated each other?"

"Yeah, go figure. I saw Dubbo, Greaney and Adlard earlier, and Rathburn is working at the aid station."

"Good." McDevitt knelt down again to zip up the next bag. "I can get about half a dozen more. Between us, we should be able to get everyone pretty organised."

"If you're planning some kind of stupid breakout after the Old Man ordered…"

"I'm not going to do anything like that, man." Bob reassured him. "But if we see anything shady going down, or if the relief finally arrives, then I want us to be ready to move. What I want to know is, can I count on you?"

Alenko looked at his friend, then at the rows of bodies still to be identified and bagged up. "No stupid stuff. If the turians honour the surrender, we do as well. We move only when we need to, not before."

"Deal." McDevitt nodded. "But hey, maybe everything will work out fine, and that turian CO isn't deliberating over whether or not to bury us all in a mass grave."

-TSoS-

"I will admit, General, that at times over the last twenty four hours I have been considering burying you and the rest of your command in a mass grave." Septimus tapped his talons against his desk, eyes locked on the dishevelled human.

"General Arterius ordered as much, both for you and the civilians hiding under that mountain. But in the end, you evacuated almost all of those civilians, so I suppose the point is irrelevant. Nothing but you and a little over a thousand of your troops remain here on this plain, most of them wounded, those that aren't incapacitated by injury are exhausted by battle. It would be a simple matter to have you lined up and disposed of quickly."

Williams shifted, his expression unchanged. Septimus thought he was being surprisingly calm under the circumstances. "War crimes trials aren't a big thing for your species, then?"

"Up until first contact with the asari, the turian race had never imagined such a counter-productive process." Septimus half chuckled. "They certainly did not try to call for such hearings following the Rebellion, or indeed against any turian military action since. Any complaints about excessive use of turian military force have always been internally. I imagine that might change when they hear of what has happened here."

"Then you believe me?" The note of hope in the General's voice was unmistakeable.

Septimus stood, looking at the wall of his tent as if the canvas might provide him with answers. "I believe that Admiral Jhirx has lied to me. I believe that General Arterius is close to losing his mind. And I believe that I might be the last senior officer on this plane in full control of his faculties and not guilty of treason. But there are other considerations to be made."

"My general ordered me to offer no quarter. You have cost us much in men and materials when there was no need. You knew at the mountains that you could never hope to win, but you kept on regardless. It was short sighted."

He leaned closer. "It was selfish. And your men have paid the price for your arrogance, your pride."

"Or perhaps I have paid the price for theirs?" Joachim offered, almost to himself.

Oraka could see the truth in the words…and still… "Continuing past the point where defeat is a certainty has never been an admired trait amongst my people, General Williams."

"Really? To show resolve in the face of overwhelming force is considered one of the greatest virtues in mine." Williams fired back immediately, his spine straightening a little. "My oath, and the oaths of my men, did not include a contract for peace, comfort and the security of our lives. On the contrary, it implied hardship, sacrifice, and above all else, devotion to duty regardless of rank."

Septimus felt a stab of admiration in his heart, despite his anger at the alien's stubborn nature. "And yet hear you stand? You surrendered nonetheless."

"Sometimes what our pride demands of us and what duty expects of us clash."

"A warrior would never submit to a foe."

"My men are warriors, Colonel." General Williams responded stiffly. "My division, my regulars, were fighters down to the last man. We would fight you until every last drop of blood had soaked this soil red. But most of my regulars are now dead. The rest that remain are citizen soldiers, civilians who picked up rifles to defend their homes. They had no professional pride, no warrior code to die for."

"And you?"

"My warrior days are done. I am an officer and a commander of men. After the mission, they are my next priority. Since my ability to affect the outcome of the mission has ended, the lives of my men take precedence."

"A sentiment I can understand well." Oraka nodded. "But we are still left at an impasse. I have taken over a thousand prisoners so far and still coming in. My commander has ordered me to exterminate you. I have never disobeyed a direct order in my life."

Joaquim's eyes flashed. "Even when that order is clearly insane?"

"Who is to say what is insane? A thousand years ago, such orders would have been commonplace when ordering the execution of rebel krogan warriors. During the Unification Wars it would have been more than common. Frequent, even." Septimus gestured to the banner on the side of the tent. "The Seventh Legion has committed such acts before, long ago."

"And that forces you to do the same thing now?" Williams stood. "Colonel, a little over two hundred years ago, mankind was still slaughtering each other en masse on our homeworld. Now such things are unthinkable to us. Do you mean that your species hasn't advanced a single step in its understanding of warfare for a thousand years?"

Septimus stood, his own anger pushing to the surface. "And who are you to criticise my species? Some over evolved pyjak without a tail? My culture has stood the test of time, proven itself against implacable foes. And you are my prisoner. Which of us has the superior understanding of warfare?"

Joaquim spat. "Which of us outnumbered and outgunned the other from the very start of this campaign? Accepted a surrender with honour and now threatens to exterminate my men? Miss Feon told me your species is one which sees honour as the ultimate source of morality. If your concept of honour is mass executions, then I piss on it."

Oraka half laughed. "You're too brave and too stupid for your own good, General."

He turned away, his eyes falling once more on the banner. "But still, you are right in a way. It's been a thousand years since my race has engaged in large scale attrition warfare. We have drilled it, we have trained extensively to carry it out, but for a thousand years, our efforts have been focused on anti-slavery, counter-piracy, and putting down the occasional rebellion. The Hierarchy's actual combat operations have sharpened us to a fine, precise point, one that has been worn down with mass casualties."

The turian turned back to Williams. "Perhaps that is not the only thing that has changed in a thousand years."

There was no point in hiding it. "When General Arterius steps foot in this tent, I intend to place him under arrest under suspicion of treason. And when I do this, the entire legion will turn in on itself and my soldiers will go for each other's throats, the half that are utterly loyal to the general, and the half that will do their duty. By the end of the week, I believe almost half of our number will be dead. Soldiers I have fought with, bled with, ate and drank my fill alongside, they will turn on me. Because I choose to do this thing. To act with honour when to do otherwise would be far easier."

Oraka snapped his talons out, knocking the pitcher of water off the table in sudden anger. "Is that honourable enough for you, General?"

The human did not speak, his eyes instead fell to the desk. "I misspoke, Colonel. I apologise."

"Accepted gladly." Septimus sighed. "I believe you may understand why I am out of sorts."

"Forgive me again for pressing your patience, Colonel. But in the midst of the fighting, what will become of my men?"

Septimus waved his hand. "I will have them evacuated, have no fear on that account. I must ask your forgiveness for once again making your world into a battlefield. The path before me is clear, yet strewn with terrible obstacles."

"There's another option."

Septimus froze as he heard the words. When he turned, Williams had finally looked up, his weary eyes nursing one last spark. "There is another option."

The turian never quite knew what drove him to ask."

"What?"

"General Arterius never steps into this tent. Never confirms his order to exterminate what remains of the population. A human patrol kills him up in the north before he returns to this location. An independent patrol acting without radio contact, unable to know that the garrison had already surrendered."

"No." The word escaped his mouth unbidden. "You are mad to ask it."

"I merely suggest." Williams steepled his fingers, looking at him with sudden calculation that seemed at odds with his previous soldierly demeanour. "How many of your Legion will see the arrest as a mutiny? Half? More than that? You could lose hundreds of men in hours and fail to win the day. Then my own people would be subject to reprisals."

"It may seem trite to say that assassination of one's own commander is not the turian way. But considering how few of the turians above me are actually following the turian way, perhaps it would not be so strange to do as you ask." Septimus gritted his teeth. "So I will simply tell you that it is not my way to stab an old and trusted friend in the back."

"An old and trusted friend who lied to you? Compromised you? Betrayed you, even?" Williams stood up, clearly agitated. "We now share a common enemy, Colonel. I surrendered to you, not to this General. If our safety cannot be guaranteed, then I will order them to riot. Even the militia have more guts than to be machine gunned in a communal pit, begging for mercy."

"I will not permit…"

"It's not a question of what you'll permit. It's a matter of what the remaining options permit you." Williams snapped. "You think you can get through this with your honour intact. You can't. Your men and mine will die in droves over a man who you clearly believe has lost his grip on sanity."

Oraka choked on his retort. Williams had a point. It horrified him, but it was irrefutable. An open arrest would get a thousand men killed. But assassination? It was impossible to sanction such a mission.

"I will not kill my friend. Not without a trial, at least. Maybe there exists some rational explanation for his behaviour." Septimus finally decided. "But your idea has some merit. I will send a team to detain him, instead. My best men."

Williams nodded. "Mine as well."

"I cannot permit..."

"How many of your men do you think you can trust with this?" Williams questioned. "Truly loyal? Absolutely obedient? There can't be many."

"Perhaps." Septimus knew his tone was reluctant. "The General will have his bodyguard with him. And whoever I send will not be able to take too many soldiers with him."

"You'll need a human for the job. A human who won't be swayed by the odds. Who'll gladly grab a rifle and head into the boonies for a few thousand dollars and the chance to say he was famous."

Septimus nodded. "And who did you have in mind?"

-TSoS-

Jack looked at the pair of them incredulously. "Have I been wearing a sign saying 'Please volunteer me for suicide missions' for the last few weeks without anyone telling me?"

Across the table from him, the general sighed as if embarrassed by his behaviour. "It's not a suicide mission, Jack. You'll be accompanying some of Colonel Oraka's best men to detain General Arterius. He's accompanied by a small bodyguard, so your job will be to help force a surrender."

Jack gritted his teeth. "No."

The turian's eyes raked the human. "Your general gives you an order and you disobey?"

"I'm not a soldier." Jack spat. "I'm a contractor. I'm on salary for every service I perform on this planet, and there's no price large enough to make me go chasing up north against a crazy general and his honour guard. No thanks. I'm content to sit out the rest of this fight."

"Jack, if this bastard gets back here he'll order the execution of every last soldier, including the militia and any contractors he finds."

Jack knew that tone of voice too well. It was the Williams Special, a blend of sternness and admonishment mixed with a touch of reason. If he wasn't immune to it by now then he never would be. "Then I'll grab Eva and bolt. I can survive for months if I get into the green belt."

"Jack…"

"Oh get fucked!" Jack sprang to his feet, unable to control his anger. "If you didn't want us to die on our knees, maybe you shouldn't have lowered the colours!"

Williams had turned white as a sheet, but his cheeks were beginning to redden with slow burning rage. He turned to their host. "Colonel, may we have a moment."

The turian muttered something about it being his tent, but strode out of the shelter without sparing Jack so much as a contemptuous glance.

Williams looked back at him. Jack knew the telltale signs of the man's rage, but he'd never seen the cumulative effects of stress, grief and exhaustion piled on top of it.

"Before I say anything," Williams cleared his throat, "do you have anything more to say to me?"

Jack leaned across the table. "Do you know why I'm pissed at you, Joe?"

"Enlighten me."

"You made me believe. Just for a moment there I really thought maybe I was fighting for something more than myself. That I was a soldier of humanity, a shield against their enemies. I was ready to die for you like some goddamn idiot. Then you just gave up. Couldn't let us go out on our feet, no. No, you had to kneel down and toss the banner at their feet." Jack looked away, suddenly ashamed at himself for letting go too much. "I can't go back out there. Not again. I just want to go home."

Joaquim steepled his hands. "You've said your piece. May I deliver mine?"

Suddenly feeling his own exhaustion, Jack sank back in the chair. Williams took that as his cue. He stepped in front of Harper. Suddenly, Jack felt very small as Williams fixed him with the full weight of his glare.

"You're not a soldier of humanity, Jack. You're a merc. A gun for hire. You sold your skills to the highest bidder for years and dressed yourself up as a patriot while you did it. But that's not all you are. I saw everything I needed to know about you a long time ago. When you killed those kids? Back in Ukraine during the unrest? There was something in your eyes when the MPs were interrogating you. I've seen men involved in accidental deaths before. They cry, they bury their heads in their hands, they say 'Oh God what have I done?'. But not you. You looked offended, Jack. What right did those MPs have to question your judgement? Ask you why you ordered the assault despite knowing the site had been an active school not a week earlier?"

Jack's jaw tensed, but Williams wasn't finished. "The UNAS paid you to hunt terrorists. The Chinese paid you to put down rebellions. The Russians hired you to train their death squads. You did everything and anything to turn a profit and congratulations! You got rich! But you didn't get famous, and that's what you really want, isn't it? Admiration and adulation. So I'm not going to appeal to your honour or your conscience. I know your honour is for shit and your conscience hit shit and kept digging. So I'll offer you something better. Something I know you really want."

He grabbed the arms of Jack's chair. "I'll make you famous, Jack. My family has political influence and media connections. I firmly believe that this war will be over soon, and when it does I'll make sure your face goes up on every broadcast, your voice gets heard on every radio, and your butt gets kissed at every celebration. I'll have your dishonourable discharge revoked and you recalled to duty just so you can have a whole string of medals draped around your throat. You'll be the poster child of humanity, Jack, dead or alive."

"So what do you say?"

-TSoS-

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to set by the time they stepped off. Eva's eyes trailed over the rows of bodies neatly organised in rows of twenty, humans stepping between the ranks and recording the details on each man and woman's dog tags, the last of the human weaponry being loaded into secure containers under the strict supervision of the turians.

The turian makeshift POW camp was beginning to take shape. Boxed in by the enemy on four sides, the humans were free to roam within the confines of the motion sensors acting as walls. The logistical mind of General Williams had solved most of the problems facing the survivors. Camp stretchers, food, extra medical supplies and a dozen other miscellaneous items had been retrieved from the now deserted mountain base under turian guard. It wasn't luxury, but the men would still be fed and the wounded cared for.

"Hard to believe we're doing this." She murmured to Jack as they were marched out of the camp by their escorts. "Are you sure this is the smart play?"

Her partner grunted. Jack had been irritable and snappish since he returned from his meeting with General Williams. Eva had barely been able to pry the details out of him and what he had said was more than enough to unnerve her. He'd simply instructed her to rustle up some cold weather gear, some food and water. That they were heading north on a special mission.

A joint mission.

The shadows had already lengthened by the time they'd walked down a few sand dunes. Two turian hover-APCs were waiting for them, six figures in deep black armour moving in between them with cases of gear.

Reaching the side of the first vehicle, their party was greeted by two turians, one with white facial markings and the other with green.

White-Face glanced at their wrists, then at their guards. "You can take off their shackles. We'll handle it from here."

The chief guard nodded, unlatching the restraints on his charges and then disappearing back over the sand dune they'd come from.

White-Face extended his hand, Jack shook it cautiously. "I'm Lieutenant Adrien Victus. I command the Ninth Platoon of the Blackwatch. This is Sergeant Hiax, my number two."

"Jack Harper." Jack glanced at the rest of the turian's men. Each one was wearing light, battle scarred armour. Oraka hadn't been joking about choosing his best. "This is my partner, Eva Corde."

Turning around, he indicated the two men he'd selected to join them. "That's Sergeant Gurpeet Saluja." He gestured to the slim, weathered Indian. "And that's…"

"Petrovsky." Victus spoke first. The turian almost sounded pleased. "I'm glad you survived."

"Da." The bearded Russian nodded, a grin taking the place of the scowl he'd worn all afternoon. "I am glad to see we did not kill you last night."

Victus gestured to a dent in his armour just below the neck. "Not for want of trying."

"So, we are all in this together, yes?" Petrovsky beamed. "Out to kill…"

"Capture!" Eva hissed.

"…capture." Petrovsky did not skip a beat. "A crazy general in the snow!"

Jack unfolded his arms. "We are all going to die."

The turian sergeant actually nodded in agreement. "I started to think that when Colonel Oraka told me we would have our radios switched off until the job was done."

Jack took one look over his shoulder back the way they'd come. It'd be so easy to just walk back to the camp and tell Williams to go to hell. But that would mean going back on his word.

'Say this, for Jack Harper.' He thought to himself. 'Take away everything else and you can still say he's a man of his word.'

-TSoS-

A/N: Man, so close to finishing and yet so far. Believe me, folks, at this point I'm as frustrated with myself as you are.