Atvar V
Digging underneath his desk, Atvar pulls out an old microphone and recording set. His eye turrets seem to twitch slightly as he looks upon the battered devices, then gently drums his fingerclaws over the casing.
Q: Is that that what you used to make the broadcasts?
A: Yes. The Supreme Commanders of NATO agreed that it'd be best to use a Race-made radio, instead of their own equipment. Couldn't give the impression that I was a hostage or puppet, after all.
Q: How exactly did you come to start the broadcasts?
A: It was my suggestion, actually, though it was in response to a question. My crew and I had been spending the first three days of Footfall simply hiding in custody in the POW camps, or, in my case, the same room as the Supreme Commanders. I was frequently consulted on what strategies the landing forces might employ while in Europe, and I responded accordingly.
Q: What was the question you were asked?
A: One of them asked me if there was any sign of discontent within the ranks of the Conquest Fleet. I was actually asked that on my first day, due to my surrender, and I stewed further on the matter while acting as a consultant. It was on the third day, after the gas attack in Lyon, that I made the suggestion to produce propaganda broadcasts.
Q: You said after the gas attack. Was that a major factor in you decision?
A: Indeed. The attack horrified me to the core, knowing that thousands of troopmales, males who had been under my command only a week ago, were dying horrifically in a futile struggle. The hatred I had for Straha only hardened in my liver, knowing that his treachery and shortsightedness was killing millions, and threatening millions more.
I desired to try and mitigate the suffering, and hopefully end the war sooner. I made this clear to the Supreme Commanders, and after a short debate amongst themselves and with various world leaders, it was approved. Though, I could not make the address alone; a pair of guards were in the room at any time, ready to cut the transmission short in case I attempted something like the Daniels boy.
Q: Were there any conditions made?
A: Only one; that after the war ended, or if Straha was deposed and I returned to power, we would resume negotiations. Not to try and hold on to captured land, but to ensure the safety of the Colonization Fleet, and to determine the fate of any surviving troopmales. I consented to a post-war trial and armistice, and they agreed that doing so would thereby grant any troopmales loyal to me protection under their Geneva Conventions.
Q: When did you start the broadcasts?
A: One day after the gas attack in Lyon. The radio device was set to broadcast across all wavelengths used by the Conquest Fleet, and was also put on various television channels and the site they called YouTube, in case there were any troopmales watching on captured devices.
The first broadcast was relatively short; I simply described the gas attack in Lyon, and the devastation wrought by the Foot. I pointed to these horrors, and said that they were evidence of Straha's madness, of his willingness to send his troopmales to the slaughter. I said that the mass murder he'd unleashed was against the values entrenched in us by the light of the Emperor, and would only serve to deepen the anger and resolve of the Tosevites.
I told any listening troopmales that by following Straha's addled orders, they were not only likely to face horrific consequences, but were putting Home itself at risk. I tried my best to use what I'd heard my own troopmales say about the war, hoping that it would appeal to the veterans who'd seen firsthand the futility of the conflict.
I said that the war had been lost before it even began, and all we could do now as to ensure the safety of the Colonization Fleet by breaking away from Straha and agreeing to an armistice with the Tosevites. I also made sure to emphasize that any defectors would be protected under the Geneva Conventions, in case they feared they'd be treated like prisoners in Africa or India.
That was the first broadcast. I would make several more during the war, after various events and... changes.
-/-\-
From the Journal of Shistvan, dated January 24th, 2021
Today may be the most difficult decision of my life. A year ago, this would have been something I would never have even thought of, let do. Even now, it feels like such an alien thought, stabbing into my mind like a piece of glass.
But this world seems to consist only of alien things. Nearly everything about it has been outside my blissful existence before coming to this strange rock, big and small. I have born witness to things that no-one on Home could ever truly understand, or even believe.
I was expecting to scare a few Tosevites with my gun, then simply enjoy a rugged life in the wilderness of this planet until the Colonization Fleet arrived, then I could get a job with the settlers. An adventure in the name of the Emperor, and bringing glory to Home. That was what I thought when I signed up during the Soldier's Time.
Instead, I have seen my friends die painfully, and watched commanders I respected be blown to a fine paste. I have witnessed old men sneak explosives under their clothes and kill themselves to kill us, and I have been shot at by not-hatchlings who didn't even know why they were fighting. Friends have fallen to the spice before my eyes, and I have witnessed Tosevites enacting countless atrocities against each other, atrocities I did not think possible.
And at the same time, I have been given a once-in-a-millennium chance to experience ways of life that I could never find on Home, or anywhere else in the Empire. I have sat in the shade of a cozy stone home and shared food and drink with kind Tosevites. I have been able to witness their ways of life in various regions, each one distinct from each other, and vastly different from my own, and yet no less beautiful. I have heard their singing, and seen their art.
This world is a rugged one, can can be full of cruelty. And yet, at the same time, it is a uniquely beautiful one.
However, all of this seems to teeter on a most dangerous balance, now. I remember how uncertain I felt, and how concerned my smallgroup looked, when we received the news of the transition in power. Ristov didn't even know that a vote of no confidence could actually be called against a Fleetlord, and I was shocked that it actually happened, let alone succeeded. "How was that going to change the invasion?" was what we discussed at the campfire. Psanok hoped that it meant we would leave this planet behind and return Home, where hatchlings don't shoot at us and every house has electricity.
How wrong we have been.
We were still close to the Egyptian border when those forsaken rocks hit. The rain has only now begun to lift, and I've heard that it's still going strong in other places. Before I came here, I'd only seen rain a few times in person; scant showers that came as quickly as they went. I have never experienced a rainstorm like this before, even in this region. The river they call en-Nīl has grown fat and swollen with water, dragging small homes and bodies with it, and there has been no safe refuge for my feet since this began.
Is this what we've come to? Slaughtering millions of non-combats, washing them away in a deluge of such magnitude that it defies imagination? How many Rabotevs and Hallessi died in our conquests? A few hundred? A few thousand? We call ourselves a peaceful people, and yet we've committed unspeakable violence here. I am ashamed that we have stooped so low, to commit mass murder when we know the war is lost.
This war is lost. I've seen in, in the eyes of my friends, and in the eyes of the Tosevites we've fought. I saw it in the paste that was Ttish and that old man, and I saw in the photos of mushroom clouds over Mumbai'i that circulated a while back. We should've made our peace and returned Home in defeat, rather than potentially doom it to whatever revenge the Tosevites will develop after they kill us all. This isn't conquest to make a better world. This is slaughter for little more than slaughter's sake, and I fear its evil will spread to Home itself.
Is this what Tosev Three does to us? Are these oceans and lakes a mirror, showing us how ugly we really are?
We heard the former Fleetlord's broadcast earlier this morning. I'm not sure how I can describe how all of us felt, sitting around the radio. It is almost... relief. We know that we are not alone in our feelings, and that maybe the other troopmales also desire an end to this war. A few smallgroups contacted us about the broadcast, too, speaking in a manner that hinted they were probing us to see if we also agreed.
Psanok's given the order. We've packed up the landcruisers, and we're meeting up with three other platoons in the area, so we can make our way to the Egyptian border. I hope the Fleetlord is right, that we will be granted rights under their Jinivah convention, or however it's called. We've begun to contact the other platoons as well, hoping that they will join us.
I never thought I would be participating in a mutiny. Would the Emperor turn his back to us, for what we are to do?
No. The Emperor protects, and cares for the well-being of all in His light. He would not condone such slaughter, to go against everything that makes us Race. I am not betraying the Emperor with this mutiny; I am returning to His fold. For the first time since I came here, my mind feels clear.
Perhaps our 'exalted' Fleetlord will see reason when he realizes that we have taken a stand against his madness, and I can see Home again.
[Translator's note]: This marks the last page of the journal. It was found nearly intact amongst the wreckage of Shistvan's landcruiser, along with the wreckage of eight others, three kilometers from the Egyptian border. The journal was uncovered nearly a month after its owner was killed by an orbital bombardment.
-/-\-
Hakmon II
After taking a few minutes off from the interview in order to answer a phone call, Hakmon nods for me to continue. Her husband, George, can be seen in the background recording some sort of comedy video.
Q: Now, you were still stationed along the Tigris River when Footfall occured, yes?
A: Yes. For a month beforehand, I was essentially in the trenches. The fithp bombardment at the beginning of their initial invasion had hit our supply lines, making an advance into occupied territory dangerous, and the Race was too disorganized to push us past the Tigris. We just held the line across the river from each other, occasionally taking potshots or bombing each other. I shuffled between bombed out houses or small bases we set up.
In a way, Footfall may have kept the line from breaking. Now that the Lizard threat had been diminished, tensions were rising between us and the Arab forces. The Saudis, especially, were on edge; I imagine having your entire nation occupied can do that to you. Fights were starting to break out, and the commanders were butting heads.
Then when the planet shook from the impacts, and we got the heaviest rainfall in years, we remembered who the real enemy was. Suddenly, we were all... hmm, chummy isn't the right word, but at least we weren't about to start shooting each other.
Q: Did you see combat after Footfall?
A: For the first two days, no. The Race was playing strictly defensive; I think they were focusing more on trying to break America and Europe. Considering the meat grinder it turned out to be, I suppose they needed every spare bullet they needed.
She takes a sip of water.
That was a scary time. If America broke, we thought, then what chance could we stand? And the demand for surrender from Straha... I was never a big science fiction fan, but that moment felt like something you would only see in a bad cartoon. I never thought I'd hear some alien conquerer call for humanity to surrender; all he needed was a mustache to twirl. But it was scary instead of silly, because I knew the threats were real. I knew that I could face having to renounce my faith, and watching those scaly monsters put the temples to torch.
At the same time, however, it just made us mad. I think my comrades were even more pissed than the Arabs; we didn't spend decades fighting to ensure the survival of our people and faith, only to just give it up. I'm not talking like those old Zionists, either. This wasn't somebody who got pushed out of their home and had valid points about what we did; this was someone who saw his culture as superior, and that... I don't think I need to explain why that pissed us off.
I guess that's why we decided to press our luck, and on the third day after Footfall, my squad and I were sent across the Tigris, along with eight thousand other soldiers. That quickly got bogged down, when the fithp lasers started neutralizing our air support. I spent the rest of the day in a freezing mudhole, laying down covering fire as the rest tried advancing street by street.
The next day was going just about the same, though at least the rain was starting to clear by then. Suddenly, I think it was about noonish, when the shooting on the Race side began to die down.
Q: Die down?
A: Fading. Not irregular, either. It was as though many of them all decided to stop shooting, and the others began to quickly follow suit. We were very wary of it; for all we knew, there could've be a low kiloton surprise waiting for any army marching triumphantly into the town. We kept an eye out for any Lizards, and waited to see what was happening.
I think it was about ten or twenty minutes later that I heard the gunfire again, but it was more distant. Me and a few others started talking to each other, and we all agreed that it sounded like they weren't shooting at us.
We checked with the Iraqis and Saudis, to see if they'd somehow encircled the Lizards, but they were still where they'd been yesterday. That was when we got really confused.
It was a few minutes after that when we saw the first white flag.
Q: They were surrendering?
A: Hundreds of them, all marching towards us and waving white flags. A few fithp were with them; one or two of them looked beaten and bloodied. We yelled at them to stay put, and they obliged.
Q: What happened after that?
A: We had David run out to talk to the seeming leader. They chatted for a bit, then David told us that every was checking out all right. We had the Lizards come to our lines in bite-sized chunks, and we made sure they were unarmed.
I ended up getting the full picture later, from David. He told me that they'd received a broadcast from their former Fleetlord the night before, calling for them to surrender, then just that morning received news about some bombardment near Egypt that pushed them over the edge. The local commander told them to keep fighting, and even threatened to have the few fithp he had under his command ensure they stayed in line.
The gunshots we heard were, in the new leader's words, "a retort".
Q: What happened after that?
A: Well, we received confirmation from the brass that the POWs were to be treated under the Geneva Conventions, which disappointed a few, I'm sure. I didn't care; I was just glad I was out of the mud hole. My squad and I were sent to secure their lasers, and keep a lookout for any other deserters.
I remember asking a Race male walking past me why some bombardment in Egypt had pushed them to surrender. He looked at me right in the eye, and told me that the ringleader had a friend named Psanok in Egypt.
-/-\-
Birithart-yamp I
Like many fithp of his generation, Birithart-yamp is younger than he looks; his face is lined with deep wrinkles, and his back is cross-crossed with scars of varying shapes and sizes. He agrees to the interview during his break from operating one of the main lasers at Mombasa Spaceport, and we meet at the local watering hole, which turns out to be far more literal than I initially thought. I join him and several others in the mudpit as he cracks open a small keg of beer with his coworkers.
Q: You were stationed here during the latter phase of the war?
A: Yes. My duty was much the same as it is now; I launched digitships that landed here back into orbit, and ensured that the skies were clear of enemy aircraft. It was not a busy time, as much of the war was elsewhere. I simply watched the sky, and enjoyed the quiet. The rain made things far more comfortable for me; I remember hearing from warriors who had been in the first landings, and had complained of how cold and dry it had been.
The only thing I did not enjoy was the solitude. There were only four other of my species with me, and the Race fithp did not speak with me much; many seemed apprehensive of me. They spoke in low tones when I was near, and would always keep an eye turret on me when I walked into a room.
Q: When did your routine change?
A: All too quickly. It was my fourth day on Winterhome when I received a strange order from Message Bearer, telling me to listen in on what the Race fithp were saying, and to see if they were mentioning a broadcast from their former Fleetlord, or of some platoon that had been destroyed further up north. I was more concerned when the order specified that if they were to mention it, I was to alert my commanders, and if the commander was the one saying such things, then I was to shoot him.
Q: Shoot him?
A: In front of his subordinates, if I could do so. Then I was to be placed in command, and shoot any more rogues.
He sips from a massive mug of beer.
I did not know if I could follow through with such an order. Many of the less educated Winterhome fithp assume that my kind are little more than slaves, following the Herdmaster without question. We have thoughts of our own. We think. We dream. If we disagree with the direction the herd is going, we can chafe under the command, and challenge the Herdmaster, if it is dire enough. If enough of us do so, then it is clear that the strength lies with us, and the Herdmaster would step down.
Therefore, when my door was blasted down, and two octuples' worth of Race fithp barged in on the fifth day, I only offered a token fight before I rolled over and let them put their foot on my chest.
Q: What happened after that?
A: They wrapped a blue sash around my stomach and head, to indicate that I was with them. They themselves splashed blue paint onto their scales, as it was the most abundant and readily available. Almost the entire base had mutinied, and the rest were quickly brought into line or forced out. I was sent back to operate the laser, and the mutineers declared on open channels that they had 'returned to the Emperor's fold'.
Q: Considering what happened to the Martyr Shistvan, weren't they afraid that they would be the next targets of the Fleetlord's wrath?
Birithart-yamp calmly takes a gulp of his beer.
A: That was why I was sent back to operate the laser.
Message Bearer was still in lunar orbit, which meant they would have to use digit ships to bombard us. Our ground lasers were powerful, due to the need of pushing digit ships into orbit; they could not threaten Message Bearer, but they could certainly threaten the smaller ships.
I believe the Fleetlord realized that, which is why we were spared an orbital attack. However, that did not preclude an attack from the ground.
Q: Which is what happened, I presume?
A: Yes. Another base, several kilometers away, was ordered to destroy us. The mutineers realized this, and so were ready for the attack.
Q: How did that go?
A: I am still here.
He sips his beer.
I and the other laser operators destroyed many of the attackers' killercraft, and the ground forces could not push through the base's defenses before they were trapped by more mutineers.
Q: More?
A: Yes. From a base closer to the coast. They came from the east, also covered in paint, though they had red on their males and landcruisers. The attackers quickly surrendered, and many of them decided to join our new herd. Since we had more blue paint, all of us decided to paint ourselves that color.
Q: Did you give yourselves a moniker?
A: No. In their eyes, they were the loyalists, and the ones who followed my old Herdmaster were the traitors. They openly declared their victory, and pledged themselves back to Fleetlord Atvar. In pockets further up north and in the Middle East, others were doing the same.
Q: And that's when the Schism really began.
A: Indeed. That is when the war became far more complicated.