The Human Condition - Ch 110: In the Course of Events

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"If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.” - Thomas Paine

~

Appearing at the end of the street, the geared-up shil’vati women in red-and-black militia uniforms pouring out of similarly marked APCs did not reassure Dmitry even a little bit. The protest in front of the militia station was definitely still peaceful, and escalation was obviously the wrong move.

Besides the large riot shields and the stun batons the women were holding, he could also see that they were armed with full-on military style laser rifles. While he and the other human militia officers had their own gunpowder-less service weapons, they were smaller and significantly less capable than the model the marines used. These women looked like they were equipped more like marines than militia, but they certainly weren’t nearly as organized as marines, jostling and shoving each other as they formed up into a rough line.

A couple of them banged their batons against their shields and jeered loudly at the crowd, before one of them pulled out a combination megaphone-translator and made their demands in artificial-sounding English:

“CRIMINAL PEOPLE! STOP YOUR DISRUPTIONS THIS INSTANT, OR WE WILL USE ARMED FORCE TO DISPERSE YOU!”

At this point, many of the protestors were looking around nervously, trying to gauge exactly how dangerous the situation was about to become, and what the general sentiment among their fellows was. Clearly, if no one else was also willing to try and resist the militia’s demands, it would be hopeless to attempt it alone.

Already, some people on the edges of the crowd slipped away back down the same roads they had used to get here. Given that there few, if any, of the protestors had anything remotely resembling a weapon, running was the sensible choice. Still, some people were either stubborn or foolish enough to stand their ground. 

Very bravely, Henry stepped forward and started trying to convince them to leave: “Guys, you’re not going to do anything useful here. I suggest you go now. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Those jackboots think they can scare us off by acting all tough! The Council isn’t backing down and neither should we!” one of them responded.

“If they want to come and arrest me just for talking, let them,” a woman said.

“Fighting them is a very bad idea,” Dmitry said, moving up to try and assist Henry. “If you feel like resisting passively, I won’t try to stop you, but I cannot guarantee anything.”

By now the advancing militiawomen were nearly upon them, and the one with the megaphone kept shouting: “DISPERSE, RIOTERS. BLOCKING THE MILITA STATION IS A CRIME.”

“There are only a couple of people now!” Henry yelled back at them. “We can go around them!”

But his efforts were in vain, and several people were now being womanhandled by the militiawomen. One man tried taking a swing at one of them and was hit by multiple stun batons for his troubles. He collapsed to the ground, and was restrained by a militiawoman who looked a little too eager for Dmitry’s liking.

Elsewhere, even the people who weren’t actively resisting were being handled roughly. If they were too slow to put their hands behind their heads or to kneel, the militawomen grabbed them and brute forced them into position. Dmitry heard one of the protestors cry out in pain and he winced. Hopefully whatever the overly-rough militiawomen had twisted the wrong way would heal quickly.

At this point, almost all of the non-stubborn protestors were long gone, but Dmitry could see two young men hanging around at the entrance to an alleyway, using their phones to film what was happening. As Frank joined Henry in talking to the militawomen to get them to ease up a bit on the protestors, Dmitry saw that one militiawoman had noticed the two men filming and was moving to intercept them.

“Hey! You two over there, I would leave if I were you!” Dmitry yelled across to them.

“Don’t tell me what to do, pig!” one of them shouted back, flipping him off. But the other one got the hint and dragged his friend away before the miltiawoman could grab them. Dmitry breathed a small sigh of relief at their escape. 

“Are you in charge of this unit?” Chief Ne’panna had approached a miltiawoman with the bars of a militia lieutenant on her shoulders. 

“Yes, I am,” she said, proudly. “I bet you’re glad we showed up.”

“The protest wasn’t doing much more than mildly inconveniencing us,” Chief Ne’panna said. “Nevertheless, I am surprised. I wasn’t aware that there was a quick reaction force.”

“Well, we’re here now.” she said. “What was the previous plan when these bastards started rioting? Hope for the best?”

“Basically,” Chief Ne’panna said. “But now that you’ve… restored order… I’m sure you have more important things to do than prisoner intake. We’d be happy to handle that here for you.”

“Intake? We’ve got them all tied up already. We don’t need your help with restraining them.”

“No, once suspects are restrained, they need to be brought to a station for intake procedures,” Chief Ne’panna said. “You know, names, IDs, matching them against any databases, that sort of stuff. I’m sure that you don’t want to have to deal with all that paperwork or having to transport them back to your home base when we have that capacity right here.”

“Ugh. Paperwork? No thanks,” she said disdainfully, as if she somehow hadn’t realized that part would come next. Dmitry was confused as to if she really wasn’t thinking that far ahead, or if he was misreading things. “You gals can handle all that boring junk. 1st platoon! We’re handing off the scum to the local force so that they can do the boring part!”

“Aye, ma’am!” was the response, and the militiawomen grabbed the prisoners and started dragging them towards the building. Most of them didn’t even bother directing the prisoners to move before grabbing them.

“Where do you want ‘em?” the Lieutenant asked Chief Ne’panna.

“We can take them right from here,” Ne’panna said. “Officers, please receive the detainees from… the quick reaction force.”

Dmitry and his colleagues hurried to make sure the militiawomen from the quick reaction force stopped roughing up the people they had arrested. Dmitry shooed one of them away from a limping older man with a scowl on his face. 

“Are you alright, sir?” he asked.

“I’ve felt worse. But I’ve also felt better. I could probably use some bandaids and some of those new-fangled bruise patches if you have them. Or if you’re allowed to give us poor sods any. Am I under arrest?”

“You’ve officially been detained…” Dmitry said. “We’ll provide medical treatment, of course. I don’t know what’s going to happen, legally. As far as I can tell, you guys weren’t violating any laws, besides perhaps some extreme stretch of ‘disturbing the peace.’ “

“Ugh,” the man said, staggering slightly as he moved in the direction of the station entrance, where the other detainees were being led inside one by one.

“Do you need me to help you?” Dmitry asked. 

“I’ll manage,” he grumbled

Dmitry looked back over towards where the women from the quick reaction force were getting back into their APCs. He could see them slapping each other on the back and congratulating each other like they had just won a great victory, and a wave of disgust flowed through him. All they had done here was take a dozen unarmed, peaceful protestors, needlessly rough them up, and slap cuffs on them.

Once the protestors had all been brought inside and placed into holding cells, albeit with couple of verbal apologies, Chief Ne’panna gathered the station’s officers and started taking stock of the situation:

“Alright, so what do we have for injuries? Anything serious?”

“There’s one woman I’m worried might have a broken wrist, and a couple of probable sprains, but the people I was helping seemed to be mostly fine,” Frank said.

“There was one man who got hit multiple times with a stun baton,” E’nara said. “I helped him into a cell. He’s not able to sit or stand up on his own, so he’s laying down on the bed.”

“Can he keep his airway clear?” Dmitry asked, concerned.

“He can sort of roll over, so I think so,” E’nara said.

“Is he in the recovery position?”

“The what?” E’nara asked

“The position you put unconscious people in so they don’t choke.”

“Oh, so you want to avoid putting them face down, right? He’s on his side.”

“Do… do you not have first aid training?” Dmitry asked, gravely concerned.

“I do! But… for guns and knives, and stuff like that,” E’nara said.

“We've been unstaffed and overworked for years,” Chief Ne’panna said. “We did do training, but it was limited… and clearly lacking in places.”

“Of course,” Dmitry sighed, shaking his head.

“We need to remedy that, as soon as possible,” Frank said. “We get called when people are in trouble, that means we need to be ready for every kind of trouble.”

“I see,” E’nara said. “I hope I’ve not hurt anyone through ignorance…”

“That’s not your fault,” Henry said, “But what’s going to happen now?”

“Well, first of all, we should get the woman with a broken wrist medical attention,” Chief Ne’panna said. “Frank, can you call the hospital about that?”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded, pulling out his phone and moving over to the side of the room.

“As for everyone else, we should provide bandages and bruise pads to those that need them. Rose and Henry, you will do that.”

“Yes, chief,” they replied.

“Now, regarding intake… we’re not going to bother doing it. Realistically, we have nothing on these people, and it would be pointless to try and prosecute anything, as well as a waste of cell space on a day when I know we’re going to need the cells to hold actual misconducts and disorderlies tonight. We’ll let them go in maybe an hour or two, just to be able to say that we held them for a while.”

The human officers were smiling at this development, Dmitry included. They agreed with the protestors’ grievances, after all.

“But…” Fe’ham began. “Shouldn’t we at least put them in the record?” She looked worried at the prospect of not doing what they were ‘supposed’ to do.

“If you really feel like doing that paperwork all on your own, I won’t stop you,” Chief Ne’panna said.

“Okay then, maybe it isn’t quite so necessary…” Fe’ham conceded. 

~~~~~~

Turning the steering wheel slightly to the right to follow the gently curving highway off-ramp to its familiar destination, Al decided to roll down his window for the final stretch through town. Just a hopefully quick stop at the marine base to drop off a shipment, parking the truck back at the company lot, and then he would have the rest of today and tomorrow off. 

His cargo today was mostly assorted machine parts, but there was one crate that contained a large number of American footballs inside. “Essential for morale,” he commented to no one at all, chuckling slightly at the thought of an Imperial marine pulling a Charlie Brown while trying to kick a field goal.

Just then, a whiff of something smokey on the wind caught his attention. It was barbecue. And not just any barbecue, either. This smelled like the good stuff, the sort that took all day to cook in a smoker. A smoker just like the half-dozen he could see scattered on the grass just outside the marine base.

Huh. They were pretty close to the fence there, and there were a lot of people hanging around, including Zeke, who was unmistakable, even from this distance. Were people allowed to get that close to the base? Well, it looked like if there was a rule about that, it was not being enforced, because there were a couple of marines out there too, just on the other side of the fence. They looked like they were having a friendly conversation with the people on the outside, despite the literal physical divide between them.

This must be the event that they had invited the marines to the other night. Al hadn’t guessed it would be literally right outside the base. No one had specifically said the 200 feet of no man’s land the marines had cleared around their perimeter fence was off-limits, but he had been under the impression that it wasn’t allowed.. 

Well, he supposed he had never seen a sign or announcement explicitly saying that. And given the recent thawing of tensions, the marine guards would probably have been reluctant to be overly aggressive in enforcing such a restriction. In any case, Al’s stomach grumbled, providing him additional motivation to get his work done quickly.

~~~~~~

[Ralph]: Who’s planning on attending the barbecue today?

[Phillip]: Me, I’ve got today off.

[Lil’ae]: I wish we could. Lo’tic’s said it’s unfair to only give half of us leave, and he can’t exactly give all of us leave on today of all days.

[Ralph]: I was worried about that, so I talked to Zeke and we came up with a plan. Just to confirm, the ladies on guard duty won’t shoot us as long as we stay outside the fence, right?

[Lil’ae]: What are you planning?? I should hope they don’t!

[Ralph]: Great! When you have some spare time, maybe consider swinging by the south-east corner of the base ;)

[Lil’ae]: I’m going to send Bel’tara out there right now to make sure you don’t do something stupid and get shot.

(Several minutes later)

[Ralph]: Good news: they’ve not shot us after we promised them first choice from the ribs

[Bel’tara]: Can confirm. Even Corporal Jay’laa folded once food was mentioned.

[Phillip]: I’m heading over now. Are we allowed to bring flags?

[Ralph]: There are one or two here, but do so at your own risk.

[Phillip]: Maybe not then. Oh well, it’ll be in spirit, then.

[Emma]: I’ll be over later, probably some point in the afternoon. 

[Al]: Just pulled into the base warehouse. Was driving most of the morning. Once I’m unloaded, I’ll need to return the truck, then I’ll be there.

[Phillip]: So that was your truck! I thought that might be the case. Make sure you remember to put sunscreen on. I forgot, and had to borrow some from Ralph.

[Al]: Will do. Do you need anything else from the house?

[Phillip]: Don’t think so. Say hi to Lil’ae for me

[Al]: She says “the more you interrupt me while I’m working, the longer it’ll take before I can join you. But thanks.”

[Phillip]: :)

~~~~~~

“Yes! Three! You go back to start, Mom,” Will announced proudly.

“Oh. Unfortunate,” Alice said, moving her piece backwards on the Sorry board. This turn of events was particularly painful because the piece had only been two spaces away from the safe zone, and Jill had just sent her second-furthest piece back last turn. Still, it was just a board game, and she was enjoying spending time with the twins and her mother, who was the fourth player. In comparison to her setbacks in real life, this was nothing. 

Although no less out-of-nowhere and arbitrary, the end of her short time as governess was currently affecting a lot more people than just her. In hindsight, she wondered if she could have done anything differently. Had creating the council in the first place doomed her? Had it been her belligerent attitude towards anyone she disagreed with? Was it merely the fact that she was a human, that none of the ‘primitive apes’ were supposed to get positions until they learned their place?

If she had been a nice little governess, properly advancing Imperial interests while putting a nicer, less purple face on the occupation, would they have allowed her to stay in the position? Doing nothing useful with her power would have made the opportunity just as pointless as it looked like her efforts were going to be anyway.

Could she have handled the transition better? Was there any different oath or arrangement that could have persuaded Cor’nol to keep the Council around? What if she had refused to leave her position? Would the Imperium have actually had the guts to come in and remove her by force? Would they have sent Rollette to arrest or kill her, as she had initially feared might be the case during their first meeting three very long months ago?

“Mom, it’s your turn,” Will said, poking her in the shoulder and bringing her back down to reality. Pondering hypotheticals didn't really help her now, did they? It was probably bad to dwell on the past, especially if there were no lessons to be learned from it. Her opportunity had come and gone. There would be no second chance, no future as a governess to do things better.

“Okay, let’s see… I’ve got a Sorry card,” she said, looking at her most recent draw. “That means I get to send one of your pieces back too. But the question remains: which one?”

“Oh no,” Will said, likely expecting to have his recently moved piece sent back to his start and Alice’s piece restored to its previous location.

“Jill. I’m going here.,” Alice said, pushing her daughter’s piece back to her start.

“What? Why me?” Jill asked in surprise, pointing accusatorily at Will “He just got your piece that was two spaces away.”

“And that was clearly the best option given the card he got. When you intentionally split that seven to send me back, you could have chosen to move your other piece off of the board, or you could have gotten Will or Grandma’s piece. That means that you are gunning for me in particular, and therefore a bigger threat in the long run. Plus, being further back means that I can now potentially get lucky and land on him next turn, whereas if I had done the opposite, you could have gotten lucky and landed on my restored piece again, wasting the opportunity.”

Jill still had a disappointed look on her face, but she didn’t protest Alice’s logic.

Just then, Alice’s father stuck his head around the doorframe: “Hey Allie, they’ve changed the plan for today's barbecue,” he said. “Zeke’s made the bold decision to move the location to right outside the marine base.”

“Right outside the base? Is that safe?” Alice asked, immediately concerned. Their plan had been to attend the celebration as a family, but if there was any sort of risk, she certainly wasn’t going to be bringing the twins along. In fact, if it wasn’t safe, she and her parents definitely shouldn’t go either.

“Probably. Well, I’m not sure, I guess. I think the goal is to show them that we’re just hanging out?”

“Hanging out right outside their military base? Zeke thinks that’s a good idea?”

“Apparently,” her father said. “It does seem a bit… aggressive for him. I think I’ll try calling him and asking what’s up with that.”

At some level, Alice knew it was a bit weird for a mayor to give out his personal cell phone number to everyone in town, but Zeke was a very down-to-earth guy. He had been in office for more than a decade at this point, and Alice could still remember his first election campaign, when he had literally taken the time to knock on every door in town and ask what they wanted.

She had been the one to answer the door when he had come round to their house, and even though she hadn’t been quite old enough to vote yet, he had still asked her for her input. That had made a very big impression on her high-school-aged self, and coming right on the heels of taking Mrs. G’s excellently run civics class, it had set in her mind a firm image of exactly what a democratic leader should be. It was that very ideal that she had tried her best to live up to as governess-regent. 

“Hey Zeke,” her father said. “So, I heard that we’re holding the barbecue right outside the marine base. Me, my wife, and Alice were wondering if that’s going to be safe? The risk of that causing a conflict seems pretty high.”

Zeke’s end of the conversation wasn’t audible from where they were sitting, but both the twins and her mother were paying close attention to what her father was saying.

“So, how much do you trust this assurance? Yeah, it’s the twins we’re most concerned about.”

There was a pause as he listened to whatever Zeke was saying.

“Okay. Thanks. That makes me feel better. Yeah, see you there. Goodbye.”

“Are we going to the party?” Will asked.

“The final decision is obviously up to your mother, but Zeke says he has a promise from the marine officer in charge of the base not to interfere with the barbecue or fireworks. He trusts the officer, and I trust him, so I think it’ll be safe.”

“Mom?” Will asked Alice. “Can we go? I wanna see the fireworks.”

Alice had previously promised the twins that they would attend, before the location had been moved. With them having grown up entirely after the Imperial occupation, she had felt it a good idea to start introducing them to what remained of American culture while the opportunity remained. Still, she worried.

“Only if you promise me something,” Alice said.

“What do you need us to do?” Will asked.

“If anything bad happens, or even if you just get a bad feeling, we need to leave immediately. The marine base is full of soldiers, and although I’m sure most of them are friendly, that doesn’t mean they can’t be very dangerous if they want to be,” Alice tried to warn them without scaring them. “Also, don’t make any of them angry on purpose.”

“Okay,” Will said. “By marines, you mean big purple women?”

“Shil’vati,” Jill corrected him, “It’s rude to call them purple, remember?”

“Sorry.”

“Yes, and yes,” Alice said. “Many of the marines are shil’vati, and it is rude to call them purple. Also, there are some marines that aren’t shil’vati. Remember back on the spaceship, how there were all kinds of crew members? It’s like that.”

“Oh,” Will said. “Well, I promise that I won’t poke any of them with a stick this time. Or steal their hats.”

“Jill?” Alice prompted. She wanted to hear both of them say it explicitly.

“Yes, I will not make any of them angry on purpose,” she said. “Are some of them nobles?”

“I… don’t know? Why?” Alice asked.

“On TV, they’re always angry about something, and they always want you to do things for them. We don’t want to be bossed around, but if we can’t make them angry, what are we supposed to do?”

“Leave,” she said. “Make an excuse and leave.”

“Okay,” Jill said. 

It felt odd to be reassuring Jill just so that Jill could reassure her in turn that she wouldn’t get into trouble. Where was the confidence even coming from, then?

~

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