Hand Over Fist

The General Staff

"So we finally discover what happened to the standards after the nuclear conflict," she softly noted, clasping her hands behind her back as she came to a halt in front of the two humans, examining first Longspear then van Joss with her bright eyed gaze.

"Looks like they went through some physical chances during their time in the underground shelters."

"It appears that way, sir," Kelly agreed.

Abruptly Thompson spun away, a grimace on her square-jawed face.

"But, then again, the whole damn planet has changed, captain!  Damn those insurgents that triggered the final war that wiped out the world as we knew it." She picked up a parchment and gestured towards the elven captain with it.  "And now in this report you describe a new group of religious fanatics coming out of the south have declared a holy war on what's left of the planet?"  She paused to stare down at the report.

"I find myself wanting to hear from you that you made a mistake.  That this situation wasn't happening, just as we were starting to make real progress in establishing ourselves in this new, battered world."

"I wish I could, sir," Kelly began.  "But I am getting reports from multiple sources that this Primiad Empire is planning on wiping out anything that doesn't kowtow to their way of thinking."

"Doesn't that sound familiar," Thompson mused out loud, putting the report back onto the table along with its multitudinous fellows before she turned back to the small group, a thoughtful expression on her bluff features.

"Well, spare me the details, Kelly, until you stand before the command staff.  They'll want to hear all the gory points for their very selves before a decision gets made on this one.  They're waiting for us in the main audience chamber downstairs!"

"The situation sounds somewhat contrived," an elven officer was saying as Thompson led the small group into the central audience chamber, a massive room that towered over even its over-sized occupants.  He turned to see who stepped in before he went on.

"There is nothing in this world that resembles the one that died in the radioactive fires of the last world war," he continued with a hiss, a tall and muscular specimen of his people.  The officer almost sneered as his eyes passed over Kelly.

"And it's only the imagination of junior officers looking for promotion that has made this situation into something larger than it really is."  At that, he turned back to the dozen assembled officers in front of him.  "We already have a mission to carve out a homeland for our displaced people from the genetic freaks that now occupy our planet.  We're not here to show mercy and to save any of them from each other."

"Not a very enlightened position, colonel," Thompson pointed out in a soft voice as the officers came to attention at her arrival, saluting as Kelly had, stiffened hand to a parallel position against their foreheads as if touching the visor of a uniform hat.  The general acknowledged the salute before going to a simple chair sitting in the center of the chamber.  Both voices and footsteps echoed here, the stone flagoned floor and the grand space large enough to make echoes possible.

"But a practical one, sir," the officer that had been speaking let his hand drop to his side after saluting.  "We simply don't have the resources to waste on snipe hunts.  Without mechanized support, our supply lines are already too long.  And Recon is struggling in its mission to obtain sufficient foodstuffs for our troops in the field.  We are relying more and more on captured supplies to outfit our operational staff.  To pull troops off the Tigris lines and send them south is folly."

"Nobody said anything about sending troops south, Kent," another officer pointed out, a woman with the same rank badges on her uniform as Kent had.  "We're convening to discuss the situation only."