I piled regolith over the rest of the shallow grave to make a small mound. As there was no wind, precipitation, or wildlife here, I suspected it'd serve as a clear marker until the time the dead alien's comrades came inspect the damage and gather their dead. Just to be sure, I fired bursts into the backs of both sentry guns. They had probably gone offline anyway when the reactor exploded. I wasn't sure how long it'd take for enemy reinforcements to show up, but I'd already wasted too much precious time burying the corpse. What can I say except that it seemed like the decent thing to do. I had no idea how the firefight on the other side of the base was going, though since it was just droid on droid, I presumed they would duke it out until only one of them was left standing. I bounded through the boulder field where 142 had been doing overwatch for me.
When we rejoined, I could see a puzzled look in his eyes, as if it was wondering why a carried that corpse out of the base and buried it. I did my best to mimic the prayer gesture I once saw 142 make, and it seemed instantly understand my intent in that action. I hadn't heard anymore explosions for a while, so rather than call for evac, I suggested via hand signs that we do what we could to help out our droid allies. We approached the ruins of the base and 142 signaled he'd find some cover and do some sniping. My cloaking device still had some power left, so I figured now it was my time to act as a diversion. The smoldering ruins of the base added some ambient light, and that made it harder to hide. Often in conditions like these, it's hard to distinguish friend from foe. The last thing I wanted was to be responsible for a friendly fire incident.
In this case it was a little easier. I knew the enemy was immediately in front of me, and when the fired, they revealed their positions. The light from the discharge of their weapons was dimmer as most of it was blocked by their bodies. The weapons our reinforcements off in the distance had somewhat brighter muzzle flashes. Whenever I saw a dim flash of light, I fired a burst in that direction and immediately bounded a few meters left or right. I tried to make the distance and direction random so I'd be a harder target. As the enemy fell one by one, more fire concentrated on those that remained. When the last one was eliminated, the fire quickly tapered off. 142 signaled me with his laser pointer, and we moved in to inspect the wreckage. Our droid reinforcements did likewise. It had been in a tough fight, and only half a dozen of them were left standing. All of them had been hit, but the damage was not critical.
One of them was intently surveying the scene, I presume to make an after-action report. I helped gather enemy weapons from others. It seemed they wished to scavenge equipment from the enemy. Some of the wrecked droids, both friendly and enemy were deemed salvageable, so we gathered those as well. I was left wondering how many times the same droid had been shot up and repaired, or how many times the same metal had been melted down and recycled into a new droid. Given the pains they took to scavenge wreckage, the war must have been going on for a very long time. A friendly dropship touched down nearby not long after. After loading it with the captured loot, the droids motioned us aboard and we took off. It was a short ride before we got transferred to our regular ship. After removing our spacesuits and stowing our gear, we were directed to the theater.
The hologram projector showed us the after-action report for the mission. It was all pictures, but easy enough to understand. A star map displayed all the known locations of similar facilities throughout the galaxy. There looked to be about a dozen. The one we just blew up had a big red X stamped on it while an explosion sound effect played. It was good to know we were making a difference. The droid losses were about even, 20 or so for both sides, but the scrap salvaged made up for it slightly. 142 was the hero of the battle and had racked up most of the kills. It turned out to have a real talent with the x-ray vision sniper rifle. It felt good to have a skilled warrior as my partner. Perhaps once we had done enough damage, they'd let us go home. That seemed to be the implication of the report: fight hard and destroy enough, and you'll get to go home. It was a glimmer of hope that would sustain me for a long time.
Our next stop would be on a barren desert planet. We were set to get demolitions and heavy weapons training. Though exciting and relatively safe, it could only mean the next mission would be that much more dangerous. It wouldn't be just the two of us at the range either. The photos of the other trainees were displayed. It was quite a rogue's gallery. We were all different species and I looked to be the only mammal among them. The roster was heavily with reptilians and insectoids, though one or two looked to be avian or fungoid. But before all that, it looked like we'd earned some vacation time, and would be spending a few days on a lush planet with a beach. At that, we returned to our cabin to bathe, eat, and sleep.
Later, I took the alien name tag to the theater and held it in front of what I figured was a camera. I figured it was worth a shot to see if the computer would tell me anything about it. Sure enough, info about it popped up on various screens. I couldn't read any of the text, but from the pictures, I could see the location of the alien's home planet and the various star systems they controlled. It also displayed some images and videos pertaining to their culture and technology. I was able to gather they were allied with a consortium of other races who were also seeking to maintain and expand their influence. We never ended up getting much training in either the spoken or written language of our masters, and I suspect that was intentional. Aside from the difficulties of translation and language instruction, they only wanted us to know just enough to obey their orders.
At least I got some answers, though I still felt guilty about killing an unarmed creature I bumped into at random, even it was in the midst of a life-or-death struggle. I began to wonder why our masters relied on mercenaries and droids rather than fighting themselves. I suppose it was for similar reasons so many humans have supported and fomented wars while do everything they could to avoid combat themselves. I never had much respect for people who said in effect "hey, let's you and him fight", yet that faction is numerous and has a long history. Thinking back to what I knew of military history, soldiers frequently went to war for dubious reasons while under questionable leadership and being mostly ignorant of both the strategy, goals, and causes of the war. That was certainly the case in the First World War, which was the result of an assassination and a set of alliances.
In a larger sense, it didn't matter who we were fighting and why, how long it would take, and so on. My goal was to survive. Helping my partner survive was the most logical course of action. We spent many more hours teasing bits of information out of each other. It would take far too long to recap our conversations since we spent most of the time trying to figure out what the other was saying. Gradually, through pantomime and other visual aids, we were able to share basic information on our cultures, planets, families, and ourselves. Of course, we had no way of knowing how much we truly understood of each other, but at least it was a start. Something is always better than nothing when it comes to knowledge and rapport. We even tried each other's rations a few times despite concerns about poisoning and being reprimanded. 142's food was better than I expected and didn't make me sick. Otherwise, I vastly preferred the rations made specifically for me, despite their odd appearance.
We spoke at length about what we'd do when we got back to our homes. It turned out our backgrounds were essentially the same in that we came from desperately poor families where one child was expected to take a gamble in order to benefit the rest. We agreed that this was an honorable and sensible thing to do. It seemed taking one for the team was a value our cultures had in common. Once I asked 142 what it would have done had it been assigned by our masters to a platoon of its own kind. It said they'd organize a rebellion, steal weapons, commandeer a ship, and head for home. I replied that I'd have done the same thing and added this was certainly part of the reason why our masters deliberately kept us isolated from our owe kind and also in pairs rather than larger groups. It wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest if there had been rebellion and escape attempts already.
It was all starting to make sense in an odd way. Our masters avoided teaching us their written language so we couldn't pilot the ship if we mutinied and took control of it. They used mercenaries and droids for their wars because too few of them were willing to take the risk. That implied they lived relatively safe, prosperous lives compared to the mercenaries they recruited. Most wars on earth were over the control of land and resources, so I assumed it was the same on the interstellar level. I began to wonder if that was true. If our masters and presumably their opponents were already safe and prosperous, why fight? Was there some greater ideological or religious war going on? Was it just a matter of status and bragging rights? The Scramble for Africa in the 19th century was mostly the result of different European countries competing for prestige. Colonialism in general turned out to be more trouble than it was worth.
Another possibility was that war was bedrock of their economy, and thus constant war was a necessity. In the Roman Empire, the Gates of Janus temple doors were kept open during times of war so people could pray for victory. Since there was almost always a war going on, the temple doors rarely closed. There was a stretch where they stayed open for 400 years. Any civilization that has an excess of labor and wealth is going to plow it into some grand project. The most popular choices have been monuments and war. While conquest has diminishing returns as weapons become more expensive, the political benefits of a successful war make it a sensible choice for ambitious politicians. It reminded me of the Falklands War where Argentina went to war with Britain over an utterly insignificant island. The ruling junta thought it would score a quick and easy victory that would distract Argentina's population from domestic crises and boost patriotism. Instead, it was an expensive and embarrassing rout, though costly for the British as well. Indeed, the cost of the war for both sides outweighed any possible economic benefit.
So perhaps that was our situation. We'd unwittingly signed up for the interstellar equivalent of a forever war every bit as absurd as a pie-eating contest. In that case, my mottoes were "bon appetit" and "laissez le bon temps roulez".
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