To War Is Human

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To War Is Human

Post by I Am Spartacus »

Here is the first two thirds of the first chapter of a book I have written. Please provide feedback. Thank you very much.

***

To War Is Human
Chapter One
July 13, 2347
Tassius Four

As Kevin Connelly stepped off the bus, it exploded, sending him flying into the pavement. He struggled to get himself off the ground, and turned over to look at someone whose face was no longer there.

He picked himself up, and ran towards a lone police officer standing in the middle of all the chaos.

"What's going on!?"

"Get yourself outta here!"

"Where?!"

"Anywhere!"

Kevin turned and ran towards the open gate. His mind focused solely in that hole in the madness, that eye of the hurricane leading to the safety of the world beyond.

He cleared the gate and for one second he thought he was in the clear. He stopped running, failing to notice the emergency crews starting to stream into the area. His faced cast downward, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath while walking across the street.

He tripped and fell down onto the street. Struggling to pull himself up, he flipped over and was met by the barrel of a gun.

"I caught him sir, he was running," declared the rifle-toting soldier.

"Throw him in the back of the truck with the others," said another standing right behind the first soldier.

Kevin found himself handcuffed in the back of a military truck with a dozen other people, half of them leaking blood into a pool on the floor. The adrenaline wore off and the pain returned, shocking Kevin into unconsciousness.

***

"Kevin Mitchell Connelly," a plainclothes officer read aloud from a computer pad. "Twenty-five years of age, non-immigrant visa, no criminal record, yada yada yada "

"And who the hell are you?!" Kevin demanded. "Where the hell is my passport? Or my wallet? When do I get my televox call?"

"Oh boy, you can't be serious," the officer laughed and turned towards the one way mirror. "Hey guys, this kid thinks he gets a televox call! Can you believe it?"

"You can't scare me with this secret police crap," Kevin growled. "I know my rights, give me a televox, and give it to me now!"

"The name's Bartell," the man announced. "And you'd do yourself well to show me the proper level of respect."

"What do you want from me?"

"You're from the Sol system?"

"That's right."

"Hmmm " Bartell leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Earth tourist visiting the fringe. It's a good cover story for another separatist bombing. You tried to run, instead of heading to designated safety zones where emergency crews were headed. And your bag was conveniently destroyed at the scene, I think because it contained the bomb."

"Look, you know I'm new in town," Kevin said. "I was told by a policeman to run, so I just ran as fast and as far as I could. I wasn't thinking, I was just trying to save my own life. What the hell is so unreasonable about that? All my documentation supports it."

"What wasn't destroyed," Bartell played with him. "A single computer pad containing your passport and some money doesn't amount to much in the way of evidence. Besides, many tourists obtain non-immigrant S visas instead of tourist P visas."

"I'm no tourist," Kevin had to work hard to avoid exploding in rage. "I moved here. If you knew how to read, you'd see that my visa permits employment here."

"If you're not a tourist, what are you doing here, Connelly?" Bartell asked. "I can't think of one good reason someone from the Sol system would ever want to visit a shithole like this. I was born and raised here and even I wouldn't have anything to do with this place if it was up to me."

"I've always wanted to live here. I came here to set up a new life away from everything I had on Earth."

"I'm listening."

"It may be a shithole to you, but it's exotic to me," Kevin let his shoulders sag slightly, thinking he was actually getting through to Bartell. "I've always been an explorer, and this is a place that is new to me, so I came."

"Maybe I'm off my rocker, 'cause I believe you," Bartell stood up, threw down the computer pad, and turned his back to Kevin. "But my gun doesn't!"

Bartell whirled around and pointed his pistol straight between Kevin's eyes.

"You were on the bus, walked the street, and survived," Bartell nearly yelled. "No one else did. You had to have done it, end of discussion."

"I'm telling you it wasn't me!" Kevin screamed. "I just got off a flight and caught the bus into town! I don't know anything about any bomb or any secession! And in case you didn't notice, I didn't exactly get through it all without a scratch!"

Bartell moved forward and pressed the gun's muzzle into Kevin's forehead. Kevin put the mightiest scowl he could muster on his face, pressing his head forward into the gun.

"Alright, you're free to go," Bartell put his gun back into its holster.

"Just like that?" Kevin blinked.

"Just like that."

***

The deceptively short, slender woman cast down the documents she had been reading and let out a frustrated sigh. In some ways, this could have been considered a good day for her; at least the bomb went off. The only problem was that it went off in the wrong part of town, in the bus station instead of a powerplant. That completely nullified her objectives, and would result in more criticism from the higher ups.

"Karen, could you take a look at this? I need you to approve it so we can get this thing moving ASAP" asked Doug Hunter, one of Karen's most trusted colleagues.

"Sure thing Doug," she replied. It was a manifest of the latest small arms shipment being smuggled into the city to be hidden in one of their weapons caches that were spread out over the city. Looking over it, she was a little miffed that there were no new weapons types in this shipment; just the standard array of rifles and grenades, with a handful of missile launchers thrown in for good measure.

"God damnit," she cursed loudly and clenched a fist. "Why is there none of the-"

"Don't ask," came her co-worker's reply. He didn't even look up. "Every time you ask me to ask them why none of the heavy stuff you request is in the latest shipment, the answer that always comes back is 'don't ask.'"

Karen had worked hard for a couple of years to put together a team that would keep things running as smoothly as possible, so she could do her job as effectively as possible. Unfortunately for her, in this particular line of work being effective meant being quiet. Quiet so that her suppliers never noticed her - or her needs.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I just would appreciate some answers every once in a while."

"Well, Karen, they don't pay us to be nosey," Doug laughed.

"Wait, you mean they pay us for this?" Karen smirked as she fired back while backing away from the table.

"Speaking of nosy, I've got another round of recruits in the other room waiting to be briefed "

"Right, right, I almost forgot," Karen slapped her forehead. "Send them in."

The door swished open and a dozen young men filed into the room, each taking a seat in front of Karen.

"Congratulations on making it this far. I know your service to the Front will be invaluable in bringing our people's revolution to fruition," Karen Ballard addressed the group "During your service to the activist organizations you've displayed a level of determination and revolutionary consciousness far above that of your peers. As such, you've been chosen to make the leap from student activists to full time guerrillas, though you'll all need extensive training first.

"By now you've probably heard about the bomb that went off at a bus station downtown," Karen continued. "That was us."

"Why did you set off a bomb in a very public place like that?" one of them piped up. "Innocent people were killed."

"Why did we set off the bomb there?" Karen corrected him. "We targeted a military truck transporting arms to a base in a contested area. They stopped to refuel at a civilian transit station unexpectedly. The plan called for the truck to be destroyed when they were inside a police compound, but for some reason they detoured. The loss of civilian life was completely unintentional."

Karen had always been a good liar.

"Anyways, you've been selected because you have shown that you are willing to act, and I expect you to make great contributions to our revolutionary cause. Who knows, perhaps in the coming months we shall meet again, I will be addressing you as sir. Maybe you will even have medals pinned to your breasts by the great Kostowitz himself."

That grabbed the attention of every single one of them.

"For now, I have orders to send you to a combat training camp in the countryside," Karen continued. "I can't tell you where exactly, only that you'll learn how to be soldiers there. You're to be here tomorrow at noon. A van will take you there."

She paused for a moment to gauge their reactions. Half of them were wide eyed, salivating at the mere thought of taking up arms against the government. These were the ones who would live through it. The other half were cringing at that same thought. These were the ones that would be lucky to last a month.

"You are permitted to bring one small bag of personal belongings. No electronics such as cameras or mobile televoxes," Karen advised. "Any questions?"

A couple of the young men squirmed in their seats, almost raising their hands before quickly withdrawing them.

"Good, go home and prepare for your journey. Be on time, lateness will not be tolerated."

She motioned back towards the door they came through, and the young men quickly departed. Karen took a long, hard look at the red and gold flag draped across the rear wall, and had to consciously remind herself that it was for her beloved Tassian homeworld that she sent young men and women out to fight and die. Those that survived even a month out there up against security units wouldn't remember her name, yet she felt as though they were fighting for her, by proxy.

"They're getting greener all the time," Karen turned to her colleague. "Some of them have never even fired a rifle before."

"You know the orders," Doug replied. "Kostowitz wants us to step up recruiting efforts as he prepares to launch another offensive. All we're supposed to do is get more meat for the grinder."

Karen nodded her grim assent. She only hoped that these kids would fare better than the last bunch she sent to get shot up in the mountains.

***
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Post by I Am Spartacus »

Anyone? I know it's not Star Trek, but at least it's sci-fi.
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Post by Deepcrush »

I like it.
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Post by Tsukiyumi »

Very cool setup, man. I'd like to see where this goes, but I suppose we'll all have to wait for the novel, right? Don't give too much away, unless you have it copyrighted.
There is only one way of avoiding the war – that is the overthrow of this society. However, as we are too weak for this task, the war is inevitable. -L. Trotsky, 1939
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Post by Sionnach Glic »

Interesting so far. :)
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Post by I Am Spartacus »

Here's the next segment. The purpose of this segment is to give background information on the general political and economic climate that the novel is set in and to introduce the third main character, the governor.

***

"Mr. Shujumi "

The governor of Tassius Four was snapped out of his deep reverie by the slightly garbled transmission of the decades-old intercom system. He quickly came to attention.

"The federal representatives have arrived for their meeting with you," came the businesslike voice of his secretary.

"Send them in right away, Gloria," he replied, straightening his suit as he did so.

The door to his office opened and three men carrying sporting serious scowls shuffled in. They looked more like tax men than they did government representatives, and Takeo thought that for all that the federal government did on this planet, they may as well just send tax collectors.

"Mr. Shujumi," began the leader of the three as he sat down square in front of the governor's desk. "We've come to discuss the recent events on your planet. More specifically, the continued insurgency and the attacks launched against the government here."

Nothing new.

"You always come to discuss these matters, Mr, ah," he glanced at the man's name badge. "Mr. Adams. Perhaps this time, you'll have some actual advice to dispense instead of continuing to remind me of the critical importance the federal government holds this system to, and that if I ever want Tassius to be fully incorporated as a full member system of the federal republic with all the congressional representation this entails that I had better work to correct the issues this system faces?"

He was speaking from the verbatim record of his last meeting with such representatives as these. Why not just send androids with a recorded message?

Adams and his subordinates were unflinched by this display of open sarcasm, continuing to stare straight into Takeo's eyes through their pitch black sunglasses.

"Mr. Shujumi, Governor, our superiors would love nothing more than to be able to give you new instructions." Not advice, instructions, to a captain that wasn't truly in control of his ship. "But you continue to fail to be effective at stopping these issues. We aren't speaking, as I'm sure you know, of today's bombing attacks in select cities around the planet, as we were already on the planet long before they occurred. These have been going on for years, and the federal government fears that they could be gaining steam. They do not want these militant leftists to graduate from rural based insurgency and student protests to full fledged revolt."

"Well your precious federal government is privy to more intelligence than I am when it comes to matters like this." Takeo hated being kept out of the dark and shunted away from important policy decisions on the planet he was supposed to be in charge of. "Do you think they could, in their infinite wisdom, bestow upon me some information I could actually use?"

"We do have some documents that we have been advised to give you, but will do so only at the end of this meeting." They actually decided to do something that might help him? Shocking! "For now, let's discuss the insurgency."

Takeo drew in a deep breath before speaking.

"What is there to discuss? They have been conducting guerrilla attacks in the countryside on convoys and the like, while simultaneously drawing university students and workers, young and old, into their fold through their urban front with rallies and recruitment drives."

"We need you to stop them with whatever measures you may deem necessary, certainly more than what you've been previously doing."

"I can't suppress them without losing whatever little legitimacy I have among the population here. Besides, how would that look on the news back on Earth and Alpha Centauri? 'Governor of distant federal system slays hundreds of peaceful protestors.' Not exactly good press for the Republic, eh?" Takeo said with a raised eyebrow.

"We are not asking you to harm anyone. We are merely suggesting that you take measures to halt these insurrections against the Republic to improve your standing. Or, to be more specific, the chances of your system ever being represented in congress. We know you want that," Adams maintained his flat, monotone voice.

"I do," Takeo acknowledged. "It'd be good for everyone if Tassius could be represented in the federal congress on Earth rather than languish in colonial status away from the care of the government."

"We also hope that you appreciate the strategic importance of your system. So close to the Wolfe and Thetian borders, the relative lack of stability here deters these respective nations from conducting trade with us through an important commercial corridor."

"Not that the Thetians have any real desire for large scale trade with the Republic," mused Takeo.

"Those we represent feel that such an intergalactic posture might be because of the situation in your system. Containing and quickly eliminating the rebels could change their minds if they believe they can have greater access to the resources here."

"Can't you provide any federal troops to help eliminate those actually fighting against us and let me handle the civil disturbances that I'm actually equipped to handle? I can't do either effectively because I'm forced to divide my resources in half to deal with both. Earth won't let me focus solely on the most serious problems."

"We can't do that. Troops are needed to secure our borders, and the federal government will not divert capability from important external matters to an internal one," said Adams.

"At least give me some weapons that could be used against the rebels," derided Takeo.

"We do not feel you need them." Bullshit. "You've been given plenty of time to deal with them, so we suggest that you get to it and soon."

"I am, but I'm fighting with one hand tied behind my back and with the other in a sling," Takeo said. "I need more men, more equipment, more credits, hell, more of pretty much everything that anyone would need in this situation."

"Greater assistance might come in time, but you need to demonstrate greater initiative on your part in dealing with these issues." Adams pointed directly at Takeo's pair of flags on his desk, one of the Tassius system, the other of the Republic. "You were given the post as Governor two years ago with the hope that you'd demonstrate greater capability to handle the problems in this system than did your predecessor."

What Adams didn't mention was that the man previously entrusted with Takeo's position was now languishing in charge of a sewage department on a remote and sparsely populated system even further from Earth than Tassius was, forever to reside in the halls of political and career obscurity.

"I think that the federal government puts too much emphasis on these leftists," said Takeo. "More important, in my opinion, is the deteriorating economic conditions in this system."

"Our government feels otherwise."

"I don't see how they can," countered Shujumi. "Unemployment in the cities is at almost thirty percent. The precious social insurance networks you have established back in the core do not exist here, and no one wants to provide the ability to set them up to me. This system has natural resources that are achieving less than one fifth of their commercial potential. We've had to strip away public services just to keep up tribute payments to the government to avoid complete withdrawal of federal support."

He used the word tribute with specific intent, as what they did receive from Earth in exchange for what amounted to little more than Republic membership fees rarely approached anything useful.

"Don't you think that assistance in addressing these problems would deny the insurgent communists a reason for rebelling in the first place? Erode the popular support they enjoy in some areas?"

"It's not within our instructions to advise you on economic matters. Others have discussed these with you and will continue to do so when deemed necessary," he was referring to the group of men just like these that had visited Takeo not three months earlier, spouting similar dribble as this. "We have, however, been advised to encourage you to make greater efforts balance your planetary budget."

"How?" demanded the governor. "We're deep into a deficit and can't pull out without federal assistance. We need aid, not advice."

"Perhaps you should see an otologist, Mr. Shujumi," remarked Adams. Takeo could almost spot the beginnings of a smarmy leer on the man's face, but only for a brief moment before it disappeared to be replaced with the man's standard impassive look. "We're not here to instruct you in such a manner. We're here to convey the federal government's grim analysis of the situation."

"Well then, what do you suggest I do?"

"Our instructions were to meet with you and underline the continued importance that these pseudo-communists be stopped, and soon. We will interpret these instructions to the letter," he said as he reached inside his bag, producing a large business pad. He began fiddling with the buttons before the electronic screen blinked to life. "I have been advised to deliver to you our instructions, a complete copy of our itinerary on this world, plus a number of other documents they would like you to review concerning the rebels strength and capabilities. I'm transmitting them to your secretary's computer now."

"You know, they could have just transmitted these straight to me instead of having a group of yes men deliver them," growled Takeo, barely able to contain his resentment for these men.

"Our superiors," what a bemusing and Orwellian term, thought Takeo, "felt that delivering them in person would convey greater weight and urgency. Noting your insubordinate demeanour towards those representing the Republic's higher offices, we conclude that such feelings were misplaced."

The other two federal representatives nodded in agreement.

"Forgive me, I've been under much stress lately and haven't been properly able to," he searched for the right words, "appreciate the interests the Republic has at stake in this system. We'll redouble our efforts and make a new round of arrests, in secret of course."

"That would be a wise course of action, Governor, but try and get them all for once. In the meantime, we'll be touring some of your facilities and performing audits of your government departments and offices, and we'll meet with you again at necessary times throughout this process, as well as after they have concluded to discuss with you what we find. Good day, Governor Shujumi."

With that, the three men abruptly rose and made for the exit in an orderly fashion, not even bothering to shake his hand nor averting their eyes from a military-like straight-ahead gaze. Takeo began to wonder if android technology had improved lately and if they were indeed sending some of them to meet with him.

Still, he thought he should at least pay lip service to these latest bureaucrats sent to harass him. Not much more could be done, particularly with the feds calling the shots and leaving him very little manoeuvring room, but he'd have to make some attempt to appease them. An infusion of credits every now and then would certainly help him, as would some federal troops, but none were coming and he knew it. He reactivated his intercom and began issuing orders.

"Gloria, arrange a meeting with the other colonial magistrates on the planet. Set it for tomorrow at three o'clock in the afternoon, and tell them that unless they're directly involved in dealing with the militant leftists that have our federal compadres so worried, they're to suspend all plans in favour of attending."

"Right away, Mr. Shujumi," came the reply. He switched the damn thing off. They'd know he'd called this meeting, and at least that might send them some kind of message. He just hoped it was the right one.

***
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