"War is an ugly thing but not the ugliest of things;

the decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feelings

which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.

A man who has nothing for which he is willing to fight,

nothing which is more important than his own personal safety,

is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free

unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself."

-John Stewart Mill

Jalti's Story-part1

A lonely figure sat beside the busy street, dressed only in a ragged cloak and possessing only a few items. A sheathed sword gripped firmly in one webbed paw, a tin can in the other, he gestured toward a sign to his right.

“Mercenary for hire

ten yrado per day”

As the city bustled around him, his offer of services went unnoticed, save for the two dissapointed soldiers walking away. A coin dropped beside him, making a soft clink on the stone walkway. He quickly glanced at the yrado, causing the hood to fall off his head revealing the deeply scarred features of an Arak-shai who had been through many battles. He quickly reached for the small piece of glittering hope of a hot meal, but just before he could grab it, a passerby swiftly plucked it from the ground. comig close to letting out an audible growl from his narrow muzzle, he stopped himself, noticing that the thief was only a little girl, a look of glee at her lucky find. As he retreated, her mother gave him a menacing glare, her ears folded back as she readied to protect her child. He gave a quick smile before looking away.

As the mother and her daughter passed him by, he noted a familiar face racing towards him through the crowd. He lay his head back against the cold building. What could that young fool want now?

“Jalti!” There was concern in his voice as he shouted.

The old vagabond looked up half-heartedly. “If this is about joining the war, I already said no.”

“Look at you. Your hiring yourself out as a mercenary. What's the difference?”

Jalti looked at his friend, causing him to look away from the deep set eyes. “You haven't seen war have you?”

“No, but-”

“But nothing, Rantack. You wouldn't understand. Besides, this pays better. And this way I can take only defence jobs. I refuse to go to war again. It is only an excuse for damn politicians to steal resources.”

“What do you think this war is about?” He spread his arms out. “the tribes are under attack. The Hotar-Shai broke the truce. And about the pay? Anyone who fights is paid for each Hotar ear they bring back. Three yrado a piece. The Government wants this war finished as quick as possible. Now tell me that isn't fair pay.”

“I am done with war, Im done with the tribes, I'm done with politics. Have been for years.”

“I guess you probably didn't hear about the last tribe that got wiped out then, did you?” his face turned sollemn.

Jalti stood up, grabbing his friend by the scruff of the neck, towering over him by almost half an yfcra. “Look me in the face, nothing you say-”

“The Orajan-shai.” The younger Arak said sollemnly. Jalti let go, taking a step back. “The news came in a couple days ago. I ran as fast as I could to tell you.”

“Were there no survivors?” Rantack shook his head, long ears drooping. “Damn, of all the tribes in Aldershin. They were one of the smallest! Why in Runik would they attack them?” Tears were beginning to form in the old Arak's eyes. “Why weren't they evacuated before hand?”

“It was a surprise attack. Noone knew there were even enemy troops that west.”

Jalti sat back down. Tears were running through his brown fur, his arms trembled, his tail lay, still and the fur on the back of his neck stood on end. His long ears and whiskers drooped. “My whole family was there. My parents, my sister-” A choke escaped his lips. “Oh God, little Hilo.”

“So what say you now? Ready to go to war against the Hotar-Shai?” Rantack said, his eyes narrowed, the anger clear in his voice.

He shouted, “Give me a moment, damn you.”

The two friends stood there. Hours past. Finally he stood up, kicked the tin can and all its contents across the road, startling several pedestrians in the process. He belted his sword, straightened his cloak, and softly said.

“Take me to the newest recruitment center. I think the army could use some mercenaries with knowledge on how to deal with hidden enemies.”

As the friends made their way through the city, the omnipresence of war was clear. Soldiers stood at every corner, large towers had been haphazrdly built on top of buildings. Older citizens had fearful looks in their eyes, as if the enemies from the east might attack at any time. Even children looked afraid of the as of yet unencountered Hotar. And still, life went on. The market was full, merchants still pointed to their goods that were superior to all the others around them, gamblers still threw away their money. And most ominously, slave traders still showed off their 'stock' shamelessly.

“Disgusting.” Jalti murmered under his breath as they passed a family being torn from each other's arms. “I dont know how this can possibly be legal.”

Soon enough, they passed the gallows. A crowd was gathered around three Hotar-Shai. They stood upon wooden platforms, ropes tied around their necks. A soldier stood by each one, paws resting on the levers that would end the lives of the poor retches.

“These beasts,” he spit, “were caught trying to desert our ranks to join the enemy” shouted the judge. “And so, for their crimes, will hang from the neck until there is no breath or pulse left in their body.” he motioned toward the soldiers. They pushed the levers. Jalti toward looked the Hotar furthest to the right in the eyes, and saw his calm disregard. The calm of one who believed he had done what was right. The other two struggled, perhaps they regretted what they had done and feared for what lay ahead. The platforms dropped from under the Gray brutes. The ropes went taught. The ones who feared their death died instantly and painlessly, their thick necks snapping under their own weight. The other struggled for several minutes before falling limp. Jalti looked on in anger at these monsters who had started a war with his people, who wiped out his village. Rantack cheered on their deaths.

Jalti put a hand on his friends shoulder. “You should never cheer on another creatures death.”

“That's surprising coming from you.” He shouted over the roar of the crowd.

They continued onwards finally coming to the wooden doors of the enlistment offices. The great stone building towered over the wooden shacks that crowded the streets around it. Guards blocked them as they reached for the door handles.

“What is your business here?” one asked.

“We're mercenaries looking for work,” Jalti answered.

“Do you have your papers?”

“We're from the tribes, here.” They pulled back their sleeves to reveal the tattoos that confirmed what tribe they came from. The older of the friends had a two silver fish encircling eachother, chasing a small insect. Rantack showed a bird reaching up his forearm towards a bunch of berries.

“Ahh, I can see why you would want to avenge the Orajan-shai, but why would a Huta-shin want to fight?”

“I had many friends among the Orajan.”

“Go on in, take the second hall to the left, and wait on the benches.”

The guards stepped aside and let the companions pass through. They walked through the cold, damp, dark halls. They passed many others, some fully outfitted, others in the sam situation as themselves. As they turned left, they were greeted by a pitiful sight. Young boys sat on beches, waiting to be outfiited for war. Young girls ran around, waiting on soldiers. They took their seats next to a particularly eager looking young lad.

“What is your name son?” Jalti asked him.

“Renar.” He said matter of factly.

“And what are you doing signing on so young?” Jalti looked concerned.

“My village was attacked. We were enslaved. My brother recently freed us.”

“And where is he now?”

“On the front lines. After our tribe was enslaved, he went off to help end the war.”

Jalti sat in silence for the rest of the wait.

Several hours passed before it was Jalti's turn. He walked into the room with the recruitment officer. A small room for an officer, It was filled with dusty old books regarding Geography, world cultures, war tactics, tribal life, and weaponry. The officer himself was of an exotic nature. A mysterious Olki, he sported black feathers all across his body. His forearms where bare, with black scaly skin ending in wicked looking talons, simialar to his feet hidden behind a desk. The recruiter's black pupiless eyes stared into Jalti with dark intensity. Completing the look of this strange character was a long, pointed black beak.

“So, what have we here?” croaked and old, weathered voice. “Tell me of yourself and why you seek to join the army.”

“My name is Jalti Gno-fal. I hail from the Orajan-shai. I bost profficiency with the long sword, I am an expert hunter and tracker, able to survive in the harshest conditions, a natural leader. My ability to keep a level head even in tense situations allows me to evaluate what is happening and propose a plan of action.” The new recruit smiled hollowly, “And I have nothing to lose.”

“Have you ever fired a gun?”

“A few times, though I find them to be rather klunky.”

“Well, we can always train you in that regards, you seem easy to teach new skills to.”

“I would prefer to use my sword.”

“If you join the bulk fighting force, it won't matter what you want to wield, but rather on what the situation demands. Therefore you will be trained in other forms of combat.”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, what regiment did you want to join?”

“I dont know. I didn't really plan that out.” he said admidditly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I would like to be assigned to the same one as my friend out there,” he gestured to the door, “he should be coming in next. We work well together, and have fought before. It is good to be with those you trust, no?”

“I'll see that arranged, yes.” He fiinshed scribbling some notes on a card, handing it to Jalti. “Take this to the armory. Out this door, at the end of the hallway to the left. You'll be given some equipment and instructed as to which barracks to report to. Your training will begin in two days, so get adjusted now.”

“Yes sir.”

Jalti, walked out the door, nodded to Rantack who promptly got up and walked in, and headed down the hall towards the armory. He did not expect the sight that met his eyes inside the vast room. Rather than being well stocked, the equipment was almost depleted. The clothing was few and far between on the racks in the middle aisles, and most of the gun racks were empty. Hardly any boxes remained in the cage labeled “live ammunition”, and there were no more swords either. It was pitiful. The United Shai nation was obviously not prepared for war.

“Thats what happens when you think yourself invinceable.” he muttered under his breath. As he approached the manager's desk and handed the anctient looking Arak-shai sitting behind the desk the card he was given.

“Ahh, what do we have here. Hmm, all standard issue, pants, shirts, jacket, rifle, sword-”

“Umm, actually, I already have a sword.”

The armorer looked over the counter, pulling his glasses closer to his eyes. “That's obviously a ceremonial sword, you'll need a better one that won't break.”

Jalti looked offended, “This sword is not ceremonial, and it has saved my ass many times before. It's better balanced than anything in this armory and-”

“I am sorry but you'll need to take up any concerns you have with your officer,” he sighed, “not me. Now continuing on. Rifle, sword, handgun, bullet proof vest, gas mask, goggles, helmet, and a standard issue backpack. Please follw me.”

They make their way through the room, stopping at the nearest clothing rack.

“What size are you?”

“Eight yfcra tall, medium chest, medium torso, long legs.”

The old Arak went up and down the rack, finally finding clothes to fit the younger Arak-shai. “Here you go, these ought to fit. Next lets go pickup your mask, goggles and helmet.”

They spent close to an hour looking through the headgear to find the right fit. They then turned towards the weapons.

“You may pick out whatever rifle you wish. I would suggest the standard OL-31, decent accuracy, good range, easy to use, great fire rate.”

Jalti looked through the various guns, picking up a few and feeling them. “Is there anywhere I can test them out?”

“Sure, come with me.”

They came out on an eighty yfcra firing range. “You may shoot ten rounds from each”.

Cycling through the weapons shooting first one shot, and then a small burst, finishing with three shots in a row, Jalti settled on a long range rifle, the IH-45. He repeated the routine with handguns, deciding to use a longer barreled T-15. Finally he came upon the sword rack which had been in a back room. Several large logs surrounded a small arena, riddled with slahses and deep gouges from sword play.

“Here is your choice of swords. Try not to damage them.”

Well, better pick one out in case I actually have to use it. He went to look at the rack. Passing up the broad swords and long swords, he went straight for a short sword. Picking it up, he felt the inbalance in it almost immidiately. Heh. Cheap, crudely mass produced, probably by machines. Not an ounce of thought put into how to make them. But, they are only meant for a last resort anyways. He realised. They dont use these for actual fighting.

He sliced at the logs with his newly acquired piece of metal, getting it stuck in them several times due to the unaccounted-for follow through from the extra heavy blade.

Soon the armorer sent him on his way after checking him out. He reported to his assigned barracks, finding well built living quarters comprised of bunks with lockers in the main room, well kept facilities, a dining room and kitchen, and a living room with some board games, a large screen, and a training circle. This place could easily fit 100 soldiers, though strangely, he was the only one here.

“Hey!” Rantack jogged up behind him. “Looks like we're the first ones here. The Officer said the last group just headed out a couple days ago for the front line. Yesterday the barracks were cleaned, so here we are.”

“Well, we better get set up. We start training in two days.”