The Lion's Hunt: Part 7

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PART VII

There had undoubtedly been another snag to the mission, a devastating one, and Olin’ wondered what it might be. But more than that, Olin' wondered if the Commander would feel compelled to inform all the soldiers what that snag was. It was, of course, their prerogative, but Olin’ felt the need to know so inched closer to the commanding officers to better hear their conversation. The Corporal only caught the end of the discussion, but it was enough to have some idea of what was happening.

Apparently, there was something wrong with one of the detonators. Olin’ quickly realised that this might mean that the explosives connected to that detonator were not reprogrammable. It also meant that a timer might not be able to be set for delayed detonation. If the Corporal understood the situation correctly, the explosives would have to be set off manually. That realisation meant something far more distressing.

If what the Corporal had surmised was right, they wanted to know what could be done about the situation. The need for that knowledge had Corporal Lawal forcefully marching towards the small command team, joining their ranks as though one of them. Commander Vyuum would have been impressed by the soldier’s brazenness if they weren’t trying to suppress their shock. The command team might have shooed the Corporal away, but Olin’ was now the only one among them that was unaware of the state of the detonator and what it meant. It wouldn’t be right to keep that news from them.

Olin’Lawal lurched forward, dropping hands on their knees for support as the Corporal was told the distressing piece of information that they hadn’t quite put together before. Every now and again, the Gods offered divine moments that made praising their existence a simple affair. But often, or at the very least the more regularly noticed, the Gods concocted situations that were so undesirable many questioned the worth of such deities. This was one of the latter moments.

Etom', Rekla', and Imey' struggled to meet each other's gaze, each pained by the situation from their own unique perspectives, though they had all experienced dilemmas with near-impossible conundrums. It didn’t make it any easier, but to the Corporal, this was new, and Corporal Lawal was now the one in shock. So in shock that they blurted out the words that the others could not, making the situation more real than any of them had been willing to let it be.

Someone would have to stay behind.

It was a natural inclination that made Commander Vyuum offer themselves up as a sacrifice as they ordered the others onto the platform. But no soldier in their command would follow such an order with what they now knew. Corporal Lawal was not surprised by the Commander’s selfless desire. Commander Vyuum was a hero. If they were going to die they would hope to do so in service to the Kurin, but each member of the command team had reason to want to take the task of remaining in the cavern.

Imey’Eda, the Arms team’s Lieutenant, had not explained what the detonator’s damage meant earlier and would want to make amends for the oversight. Lieutenant Rekla’Kyuul would want to make amends too, but would perform the task for nothing more than seeing through the orders of the Kurin Council. But Olin’Lawal’s position was the most unique. The Corporal wanted the responsibility because they believed they had little else to offer this mission.

Corporal Lawal realised that whatever it took to be considered a great soldier, they were sure they didn't possess it. With that thought, it made little sense to waste the life of a better or more distinguished soldier when one of far less significance could be spared for the task. Olin thought that if one could not prove themselves to be a good soldier, how could they expect to be promoted? How could they hope to go down in history, have their deeds spoken in poetry, or their name sung in song? In the moment, Olin’Lawal was objectively the obvious choice, but convincing the others that this was the case would take more than words. So, the Corporal fell their knees and began chanting unknown words.

Rekla’Kyuul, for whom praying was as natural as breathing, watched as Corporal Lawal collapsed to their knees and began to chant. The Lieutenant had previously concluded that the Corporal should not be among them, but Olin's act was redemptive, and Rekla' now believed this Kurin soldier was meant to have a place by their side. In all Kurin decisions, the Gods were meant to come first as they had for their ancestors during the Night of Exodus. It was the Corporal’s recognition of that principle that made Rekla’ join them on their knees. Imey’Eda followed, grateful to be among them.

Commander Vyuum stood overwhelmed and honoured to command soldiers of such dedication and valour and was the last to drop to their knees. Together in a circle, the four soldiers placed a hand on the shoulder of the soldiers next to them, and in unison, they chanted as the rest of the Arms team watched on from the elevator platform.

Commander Vyuum and Corporal Lawal stood in darkness, dimly lit by the rain. Lieutenants Kyuul and Eda marched back towards the elevator platform, leaving Etom’ to wrestle with the notion of letting the Corporal carry out this part of the mission. The Commander had lost hundreds, perhaps thousands of soldiers in this long war but couldn’t remember a time when a soldier was lost to sacrifice in this way. There had never been such a delay to it. If Etom’ decided to hand over the damaged detonator, the decision would be final, and the Corporal would meet their end in this cave. As things stood, the Commander still had the option to force the soldier onto the platform, but doing so would also go against the prayer they’d shared. The Corporal had bound themselves as a gift to the Gods, and there were witnesses to the tithing. The vengeance of the Gods might not be swift for a denial of their prize, but when it inevitably arrived, their anger might manifest in terrifying ways. Even Etom’ did not dare deny the Gods their offering.

Reluctantly, Commander Vyuum offered the detonator with the broken screen to Corporal Lawal. Olin’ hesitated and their hand trembled, but they pushed through, reached out and took the device.

The Corporal struggled to keep their legs under them as the world seemed to sway beneath their feet. Etom’ could only imagine what the soldier was feeling and would happily take their place if they would allow it but knew they never would. Corporal Lawal panted, and the filters on their helmet translated the breaths into erratic puffs of air. All Etom’ could offer was a steady hand and an embrace, so that’s what they did. They held each other. For as long as Olin’Lawal needed to right themselves and calm their beating hearts, they held each other. As the soldiers embraced, Commander Vyuum reached down to their belt for the detonator that had already been programmed, pulled it free, and activated the timer. The clock began its count down. Twelve hours from now, the explosives would detonate. There wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop it.

No words were needed as the two soldiers finally separated. Olin’ had always wanted to emulate a soldier of Commander Vyuum’s calibre and perform truly heroic acts for their people, but even the Commander had yet to give their life, though they were indeed willing to. Etom’ had had many defining moments. If the Commander took this one, it might make for a magnificent crowning glory on what had been an illustrious military career. Olin’ was yet to have such a moment. Not a single story they felt worthy of being told. Corporal Lawal knew their career could never be as distinguished as the Commander’s, so placed extra merit on this mission. This was not the Commander’s duty to take. They both had to accept that.

Walking away, Etom’, even now, would readily take the place of the soldier sacrificing themselves, so dared not turn to look at them. It was the sort of loss the Commander was not used to. A necessary loss that still felt like it could be avoided. There was no worse downside to command than this. Sending soldiers to their deaths required an iron will, more so if a soldier volunteered for it. Etom’ was glad to still have a modicum of empathy after fighting for so long. The detachment some considered crucial to command had yet to fully set in, but at some point, even commanders had to relinquish situational control. The Commander had to let the Corporal do this.

Lieutenant Kyuul pulled the Commander up onto the platform then activated the elevator’s panel. A surge of power rumbled, and the counterweights groaned, hissed, and squealed as they began to move. The platform juddered as it slowly lifted off the ground shaking the crew on board until the motion smoothed and the platform ascended comfortably. As it did, everyone aboard moved to the platform’s edge to look down at Corporal Lawal, who had chosen to stay behind to complete their part of the mission.

The Corporal’s figure grew smaller as the team moved further away. This soldier had been deemed to have little honour, yet there they were. Having made so many mistakes in their short military career, they were now making the greatest of sacrifices. The punishments for those mistakes were enough to leave them with just a nub for a tail, yet now Olin’Lawal was giving up the one thing they had to give, their life. And while Etom’ had offered to do so too, as had all the command staff, it was Olin’Lawal, a lowly Corporal, that was doing it. What could be more honourable?

Only Commander Vyuum had envisioned what Corporal Lawal might become. Rekla’ was never as certain, and the Corporal’s past deeds left a lot to be desired. The soldier might not have been too confident, but they were smart, resourceful, and, as evidenced here, as dedicated as they came. They displayed a determination that could match any soldier among them. Commander Vyuum could think of only one way to honour the Corporal’s gift to their Kurin comrades, so Etom' drew a blade that hung from their belt. The Commander then pulled on one of their twin tails and sliced off five inches from the tip, grunting as the end separated. Finally, Commander Vyuum tied their half-used canister of honey water to the tail end and tossed them together down to the Corporal. Olin’Lawal caught the bottle as the platform continued to rise.

As a mark of great respect, the other soldiers on the platform followed Commander Vyuum’s lead. They each cut off the ends of one of their tails and tossed them down onto the cavern floor. The ends landed surrounding Corporal Lawal. Together the ends would form a tail longer than any of the soldiers had. It wasn’t age or rank. It was honour. They respected what the Corporal offered. It made a difference. That recognition was all a soldier could ask for.

The platform had ascended out of view by the time Olin' had collected and secured all the tail ends. The Corporal fastened the ends around their waist. Together the collection look like a short grass skirt. With the ends secured, Olin' turned their attention to the next task, connecting the detonator to the wire that fed from the elevator shaft the Arms team had traversed. Once attached, the Corporal would spend the rest of the time manually connecting the detonator to the hundreds of explosive charges placed throughout the cavern.

Lieutenant Kyuul and the seven members of the Arms team had taken almost an hour positioning their charges. Less than twelve hours remained on Commander Vyuum's detonator, and Olin’ was acutely aware that if they met any more snags, that time would be drastically reduced. The Commander wouldn’t hesitate to trigger the explosives if the need arose. Corporal Lawal had little choice but to go bounding into the darkness knowing there was no time to spare.

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