Daroon looked mostly brown. At least it did from orbit. Nathan was distinctly unimpressed as he viewed the planet from the carbonsteel windows on The Black Wave’s bridge. He hated arid planets. In his experience there was no such thing as a ‘dry heat.’ He was convinced that it was just something people said to console themselves at having to endure such insane climates.

“The Fury reports they have achieved stable orbit.” Tasha reported from her communications console. Typically, the communications officer manned their post on the bridge, though Tasha tended to vacillate between the officer’s console on the bridge and the officer’s console in the communications shack. Nathan nodded absently, and waved her off, seeming lost in thought as he stared at the planet below. After a moment, he looked at Tasha and nodded again, this time much more decisively.

“Let the Captain know we’ve arrived.” Nathan ordered. Hawke had retired some time ago. After checking on the repairs to the power armor, and visiting injured Marines in the med bay, he had made the time to catch up on some much needed sleep. With a nod of acknowledgement, Tasha connected to the Captain’s quarters and spoke briefly into her headset.

“Captain will be here shortly.” Tasha reported, then paused as she looked curiously at something on her console.

“Sir, a message from the surface. The Prime Minister of Daroon.” Tasha reported. Nathan raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.

“Huh…Interesting. I was expecting the customs office or something. Not the Prime Minister of Daroon. Put it up on screen.” Nathan ordered. After a few moments, the screen mounted in the wall above the bridge windows flared to life, revealing a moderately aging, bald man seated on a simple wooden chair. Behind him and on either side stood two well-built men who wore their military bearing like they would a comfortable shirt or pair of shoes, undoubtedly this man’s bodyguards.

“As-salaam, Prime Minister. I am Commander Nathan Schultz. To what do we owe this pleasure?” Nathan offered. The Prime minister looked a little surprised at first, then smiled warmly.

“As-salaam, Commander. I see you know a little of our ways.” The Prime Minister replied. Nathan smiled and shrugged.

“Respect for someone’s culture also shows respect for the individual to who belongs to it.” Nathan remarked. “Is there something I can help you with Prime Minister...?”

“Sahir.” The Prime Minister supplied. “I have been expecting you, actually. I have been informed to provide whatever assistance I can to aid you, however I must inform you that there has been no further reports of exposure to this strange outbreak. I do not believe your assistance will be needed.” Nathan stared at Prime Minister Sahir a moment or two as he considered his words.

“Be that as it may, sir, I must inform you that we are under contract to the Gadari Republic, and the Gadari Navy has invoked Protocol Seven. Whether or not we render humanitarian aid, we must, at the very least, investigate the incident and attempt to render what aid we can in fulfillment of our contractual obligations.” Nathan informed him. The Prime Minister’s face seemed to change a little, a shadow of emotion at the edge of tranquility, soon gone.

“We have already investigated. We can send along our findings for you to officially file, if you wish.” The Prime Minister offered. From behind Nathan, he heard the sound of the door to the bridge opening and closing, and instinctively knew it was Hawke by the slight stiffening of the crew. While Nathan had a more relaxed hand, Hawke’s command style was a bit more formal when on the bridge. Nathan glanced over his shoulder to confirm his suspicions, and winced inwardly when he looked back at the screen to see that Sahir’s eyes had shifted to Hawke.

“Ah! Captain! I am honored.” The Prime Minister greeted, slightly bowing his head, though his expression hinted that his feelings were quite the contrary. No doubt by now he felt as if Hawke’s late arrival was some kind of ploy for Hawke to be the last to enter the discussion. In times long past, It was the belief of Sahir’s people that the last person to enter a room was showing himself the stronger. Hawke’s late arrival to this discussion would have been perceived to have the same affect.

“As-salaam, Prime Minister Sahir. Your hospitality and kindness are without bounds, as is your generosity. Your willingness to assist us in this matter should not trouble such great a personage as yourself. It is with regret that we have troubled you. Please be assured that our efforts will respect your laws and customs, to the best of our ability, unless otherwise dictated by Republic law.” Hawke said as he placed himself squarely in front of the screen, effectively stepping in front of Nathan, who acquiesced and quietly stepped back and to the side. Nathan had to quickly look down to resist laughing out loud. Entering the room, and the discussion after everyone else had, as well as stepping in front of Nathan, while concurrently informing the Prime Minister that he was too great a person to deal with such a trifling matter had firmly placed Hawke in control of the situation. Now all Sahir could do without losing face would be to gracefully allow them to do their work. A fact with which Sahir was not at all happy with, as was apparent by his eagle’s gaze he leveled at Hawke.

“I see.” Sahir said. It was clear he was stalling just a bit. “Well then. We will give you the coordinates of Misrati. Inform us of your findings. Do not bring any Mandarian food to the planet. The microbes native to their foods will sicken and kill sheep and spread like wildfire. Hawke nodded once in acknowledgement before the communication was cut off from Sahir’s end. Nathan barked a laugh as he regarded Hawke, shaking his head.

“Impressive. You’ve managed to not only deeply insult the Prime Minister of an entire planet, but also did it using his own customs and traditions. “ Nathan joked. Hawke just shrugged.

“Inform The Fury we’ll need a squad of Marines in full power armor sent to that village..what was it called? Misrati?” Hawke ordered. Nathan nodded, and pointed at the officer at the communications console, who went to work at communicating Hawke’s orders to The Fury. “Raijan will be going planet side with them.” Hawke added.

“Nate, I want you to follow with the physicians, scientists, and their gear, accompanied by two more squads of Marines.” Hawke said. Seeing that Hawke was all business, Nathan nodded and snapped a salute before leaving the bridge for the fighter bay where they had a couple of shuttles. He would need to shuttle over to The Fury to join his team, and then shuttle down to the planet.

***

Nathan gripped a handhold that was bolted firmly to the wall of the shuttle, feeling the vibration of the shuttles engine through the boots of his power armor all the way up into his spine as the shuttle’s nose roughly pulled up, and its rear pushed down as it halted its forward progress to perform a textbook combat landing on Daroon. Even though there were no reports of combat, Marines always made combat landings. It had been two hours since Hawk’s discussion with Prime Minister Sahir, and an hour since the advanced team of Marines had arrived. Nathan was in the first of two shuttles that had arrived in a cloud of dust to settle next to the one belonging to the advance squad of Marines. The back wall of the shuttle dropped down, forming a ramp onto the rough desert floor. The mechanical restraints keeping him in place against the shuttle’s walls, popped free. Stepping out in his power armor, Nathan’s footfalls stirred up puffs of dust as the full heat of the sun instantly made his armor into a mobile oven. Looking around, he noted three of the advanced team watching their perimeter, taking cover behind what rocks they could while the squad leader stood by the open ramp of their shuttle with what looked to be a local. The local was of average height, a little less than 2 meters tall, with a wiry build and well defined musculature in his arms. The man’s face seemed frozen in an angry expression, and his eyes were afire. Nathan could see the small village of Misrati a short distance to the west. Mentally, he thanked the genius who thought of equipping Marine power armor with climate controls as he notched up his on board air conditioner nearly to maximum power. He absolutely detested hot planets. As he approached the waiting pair, Nathan opened a private channel to the squad leader and asked who the man was.

“His name is Dareem. He lives to the west of Misrati. He says he’s the one who made the video.” The squad leader reported. By now everyone on board The Fury and The Black Wave had seen the video. As he reached the pair, Nathan used his neural interface to open his helmet’s faceplate, which popped open with a hiss and then slid back to expose his face to the harsh Daroonian heat.

“As-salaam, Dareem. My name is Commander Schultz. Kayf Haalak, how are you?” Nathan asked. Dareem fixed Nathan with an angry stare for a few moments while the Commander waited for his response, and then spit into the sand, a sign of the deep contempt.

“There is no peace, and I am not well.” Dareem replied in nearly perfect, though heavily accented English. While most planets in the Republic spoke English as their primary language, and other languages as their secondary, Daroon was not among them, choosing instead to adopt a generalized Arabic language. Nathan bowed his head as well as he could, to show that he shared the man’s sorrow.

“I grieve with you at such senseless loss. What can you tell me of this plague?” Nathan responded. Dareem looked as if he were about to favor Nathan with another spit in the sand, but instead restrained himself, vehemently shaking his head.

“This was no plague. It was murder.” Dareem announced. “A plague does not normally kill in two hours, affect entire villages at the same time, and suddenly disappear shortly after that.” Nathan blinked in surprise as he considered Dareem’s words, and shot a glance over to the squad leader that had found Dareem, who shrugged as if to say “I have no idea.”

“Are you saying the entire village died at the same time, and in just a matter of hours?” Nathan asked? Dareem nodded. Licking his dry tongue on cracked lips, he told his story.

“Five days ago, I awoke alone in my house. My wife and son had left nearly two hours before, maybe a little less. After eating a small breakfast, I made my way to the village to meet up with them, and found everyone in the village dead.” Dareem explained. His voice took on a hollow quality when going on to describe everything he had witnessed, and of finding his wife and son, also slain. He made note of the fact that everyone seemed to have suffocated at roughly the same time. None survived. As Dareem told his story, they were joined by several of the physicians and scientists, who had taken out small recording devices to capture Dareem’s comments for later consideration. After finishing his explanation, some of them asked Dareem a few more questions before heading off to set up equipment, take samples, and perform a battery of tests.

Commander Schultz stood next to Dareem a few moments, trying to consider all the angles of this new information, and quickly realized that somehow Gadari Naval Intelligence had once again misconstrued the truth, whether intentionally or not. The simple fact was, this was sounding less like a plague and more like some kind of biological weapon. Grabbing a canteen from a belt of large pouches strapped to the outside of his power armor, he tossed it to Dareem, who deftly caught it and drank from it sparingly, allowing the cool water to moisten his lips.

“Thank you. I was afraid to drink from the town’s well in fear that the water had been contaminated.” Dareem explained. Nathan nodded, and then opened a general coms channel to everyone.

“Test Misrati’s water supply as well. In fact, do that first before someone forgets and drinks from it.” Nathan ordered. Turning to Dareem he said, “Well, we’ll soon find out what is going on.” Dareem seemed thankful, and settled down into a squat, seeming content to wait.

“When you find these murderers, I am going.” Dareem stated. Nathan was about to object, but then considered everything Dareem had endured these past several days and reconsidered. The man had a right to at least face those responsible.

“I cannot guarantee your safety if there is combat.” Was all Nathan said. Dareem gazed at Nathan for a moment, and then shrugged. It was clear he did not care.

“I will come with you, and I will kill them all.” Was all Dareem said. In his heart, Nathan wanted to cry for the man. He couldn’t imagine what sorrow he must have felt. It was clear the man was not warlike, and yet nothing less than blood would satisfy his anger. Even so, the Commander knew it would do nothing to appease the man’s sorrow. With a sigh, Nathan’s faceplate slid back down and sealed into place, trying his best to ignore the heat. While the internal cooling system kept the heat from reaching lethal temperatures, it was beginning to get uncomfortable with his faceplate open. As soon as his faceplate closed, Doctor Dennis Hirsch, the head scientist from the team of scientists that had accompanied him to the surface opened a private coms channel.

“Sir, I think I know what happened.” Doctor Hirsch said. His voice sounded a bit nervous.

“Yeah? What?” Nathan asked.

“Keep in mind that we’re still waiting for more complete test results. This could be a false positive, or even worse, a background contamination that we-“ the scientist had begun to say.

“Doc, just get to the point.” Nathan interrupted. He could hear the scientist clearing his throat through the coms.

“Yes. Well. I think this is Sarin 3.” Doctor Hirsch announced. “The presence of the chemical has largely dissipated, but there are residual readings that has been detected in the soil. If it is Sarin 3, that means these poor people died when their Pharynx muscles lost rigidity and they suffocated.”

“In English, Doc.” Nathan replied irritably. Doctor Hirsch favored the Commander with an exasperated sigh.

“Their throats closed and they couldn’t breathe. Most likely, they felt like they were choking on something, or drowning.” Doctor Hirsch explained.

“Let me know when your findings are conclusive, Doc.” Nathan said.

“Well…that’s the thing. In order to know for sure, I will need to examine the corpses, at least one or two of them.” Doctor Hirsch responded. Nathan grunted as his eyes slid over to Dareem. He knew that if Dareem and is family were Muslims, their burial rituals could be quite specific. He sensed potential trouble on the horizon.

“I’ll get back to you on that, Doc. Do what you can until then.” Nathan responded, ending the conversation. Nathan made a quick report of Doctor Hirsch’s preliminary findings to Hawke before ordering his Marines to set up a perimeter around Misrati, setting them up inside of now empty homes on the edges of the village. He wasn’t expecting trouble, but it had been his experience that you never knew. Satisfied that the Marines were in position, Nathan turned once again towards Dareem. He was stalling, he knew. He really didn’t want to ask Dareem about having the Doc examine the corpses, but he knew it had to be done. As he approached, Dareem stood up from the place he had been squatting on the ground and looked to Nathan expectantly.

“Dareem, our head scientist has requested that he be allowed to examine one or two of the deceased.” Nathan said. Dareem lowered his eyes in thought a moment before he nodded assent.

“I will take you to where they are buried, but they must be returned in the exact manner in which they were buried.” Dareem answered. He seemed somewhat reluctant, which was understandable, given his beliefs and the fact that he had buried them all himself. He led them to a hill about a half mile north of where they were, where several hundred fresh graves were dug. Nathan noted a nearby digging machine with an arm that had a large scoop approximately four feet wide on its end, and surmised that Dareem had used that scoop as a way of quickly digging graves. He wondered, not for the first time, how Dareem was able to cope with what could have only been a horrifyingly traumatic experience. To have everyone in his entire life to be suddenly killed was no small thing.

Near the digging machine, speared into a mound of rocky dirt, were a couple of shovels. Grabbing one, Dareem walked over to a couple of graves, one smaller than the other, and began carefully digging. When Doctor Hirsch signaled another scientist to grab the second shovel and begin digging at the smaller mound, Dareem stopped and ran towards the scientist, with his hand outstretched.

“No!” Dareem yelled. “Please. Do not.” The Scientist paused, startled at the impassioned plea. The Commander, who had been carefully watching Dareem since their arrival, and had noted the careful way he had begun digging at the first grave, suddenly understood what he was doing. He couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

“He won’t.” Nathan offered. “Perhaps you can tell us who else? We need a woman, a child, and a man for complete analysis.” Dareem gave the Commander a grateful look before his eyes wondered sadly across all of the newly buried graves, then stopped on a particular one.

“Does-“ Dareem stopped as he roughly cleared his throat and tried again. “Does it matter how old they are?” Darting a quick look at the Doctor Hirsch, he saw the scientist shake his head almost imperceptively. The sad expression on the doctor’s face said that he understood the sacrifice Dareem was making.

“No.” Nathan replied. Dareem nodded once, and pointed to a grave in the last row farthest from them. It was a grave that looked as if it was dug by hand, as were the two graves he was working on digging up himself.

“Jawdah is there. He was the first I found, and the first I buried. He was in the sunset of his life, with all the symptoms that accompanied it, but aside from that, he was in good health.”Dareem explained. After looking towards the doctor to make sure that this ‘Jawdah’ person would be acceptable, he nodded acceptance as the scientist originally tasked with exhuming Dareem’s Son was retasked to instead exhume Jawdah. Nathan slid his faceplate down and sealed it into place as he watched Dareem a few moments more before turning to check on his perimeter. Dareem was made of sterner stuff than he was, he had to admit. How else can a man both bury and exhume his own family, all in the space of a week? Not for the first time, Nathan wondered about Dareem’s state of mind.

Next Chapter: Chapter 13