Tevun-Krus #110 - Punk Wars 3

Unleash the Bros of War - A Story by @theidiotmachine

Unleash the Bros of War

by theidiotmachine

General T'Chk took a long pull on his glibleaf pipe, enjoying the sweet, acrid taste. He let the blue smoke curl from his blow hole, and gazed across the room. The officers around him avoided meeting his eyes, but he could nevertheless smell their disapproval, just as well as he could smell the pungent burnt leaf. Well, let them. They would probably be spared tomorrow.

'Sir, companies twenty eight and thirty six are falling back. We need to make a decision on holding the grooming quarter.'

This one was called Captain Atrtu, or something else equally upper class. He, astonishingly, seemed to think that it was still worth bothering to issue orders. T'Chk sighed, and lumbered over to where Atrtu was standing at the war table.

Here hundreds of little wooden markers were laid over a map of the city. Other officers were talking into radios, pushing the markers around, occasionally removing them from the board. The lights hung from low cables, and flickered, and the radios around the edges of the room hissed and beeped. It stank of smoke and dirt and exhaustion. Every so often a shell landed too close for comfort, and everything shook gently.

The officers looked up as he approached. He stared, gloomily, at where Atrtu was pointing.

'Do you suppose many people are being groomed right now, Captain Atrtu?' he asked.

The young captain blinked at him, yellow eyes bright under the hot bulbs. His blow hole tightened, and he licked his face. Atrtu was barely adult, from a rich family, had started at this rank. T'Chk had made his way to the top of the army from nothing, from fights, to skirmishes, to battles to wars.

'No sir,' said Atrtu.

'Then tell anyone there to retreat.'

It seemed like a lifetime that he had last been in the grooming quarter, but of course it had only been half a year or so. He remembered floating in the great pool in H'Loks, the war impossibly far away, the perfumed air heavy like a blessing... Now it was all just rubble and bones.

He pulled himself from his reverie.

'Captain Jokl. Any word from the palace? What does our emperor bid us do?'

Jokl blanched, his green skin yellowing in fear.

'Sir... I cannot get word from the emperor. No one there knows what's happened to him,' he replied. 'I stand ready to travel to the palace myself, if you wish.'

T'Chk laughed, despite the situation. 'I commend your bravery, running across the city, but I wouldn't bother. The old fool has fled, I imagine. Well, it's just us now.'

He turned to address the room. It fell silent, even the hiss of the radios and the thud of the shells seeming to calm, waiting expectantly for him.

He'd worked with these soldiers for some time. They were good people, despite what their beloved emperor had done. They were young and scared, mostly. They didn't deserve what had happened. But then, he reflected, people very rarely did.

'I don't think we need a long speech,' he said. 'I don't think it would be proper. Beginnings are long and complicated; endings should be simple and short. So I will say it in the simplest and shortest way I can: we've lost.'

He paused and looked at their faces. They knew. But it was still a shock hearing it, such a sharp truth. They blinked and shivered, tongues wetting dry lips, hands fidgeting. He shook his head, sadly.