Even with the release of punk and throwing up from his gut, Vuong's mind barely got better. The feeling and knowledge that he had killed someone weighed on his mind. Sure, he recognized the righteousness or the correctness of the actions. After all, rapists should be burnt in hell. However, his conscious mind and integrity had trouble accepting it. Being raised as a law-abiding citizen in a peaceful country, he was taught that violence was a terrible idea. Killing was even worse than that.
No amount of preparation and desensitization could prepare his mind for this, even with realistic technology applied in VR or video games. The smell and the sensation could never be replicated – and perhaps that was for the better. The air was tainted with the scent of burnt cordite, the metallic flavor of blood lingered in the air, and there was something else, almost as if the area reeked of Death. Though, on a closer look, it actually was.
He must find something to occupy his mind… Luckily, the more analytic side of his brain, shaped by living through the engineering study as well as pioneer training, supplied the answer. He just ejected a bullet on the ground, and he just threw away an empty magazine earlier. Not to mention the spent cartridges. Collecting all of them would buy him a few minutes of distraction away from the chaos and turmoil of his psyche.
Of course, life just had to throw a wrench in that plan. As usual. All hail Lord Murphy.
"This is Bravo-Actual to Recon Team Bravo. Bravo-Five and Seven, rally on me. Bravo-Two, Three, Four and Six, recover the spent cartridges, as many as possible. Over."
The whole team ratted off their respective affirmative response, one that Vuong also followed. While he was not able to pick up all the spent ammunition (thirty spent cartridges), he had enough time to recover his used magazine as well as the ejected round. Letting the carbine hung freely on his neck with the use of the sling, he quickly dashed towards the commanding officer of the Recon Team.
Not because it was an order… Well, not precisely. It was an order alright, but it was dependent on some external situations, and he had a very good hunch on it. There was an unexpected development. Sure, they met sapient and sentient life forms, and they were actually human. However, it was not even the most surprising fact. If Vuong's ears and brain were functioning normally and correctly, then he could even understand the local.
Still, it was just a war cry and some quick, short, one-syllable yells, so it might be a mistake. To be honest, he hoped he was making a mistake in this judgment. If he was correct though, it would be very shitty.
Reaching the end of the convoy, he quickly nodded towards the female officer instead of a greeting. Meanwhile, the Thai medic, Bravo-Five, was rushing towards the impaled guard and checking him. Things were not looking well for him, considering that the girl, the almost-victim of a rape-to-be, and the little boy were crying their eyes out, or some other armored guards were watching them with a subdued mood. None of them stopped the Thai beauty from patching up their man, not after she injected him with some morphine to ease down his pain.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Vuong idly noted that Bravo-Three, the Indonesian machine gunner, was staying behind the bush. Presumably, he was collecting the spent cartridges. Considering that he was the gunner, well, there would be a lot of used casings for him to pick up and collect. The reason for that would be somewhat understandable, borne out of straight paranoia and pragmatism. The locals had shown a great aptitude in physical prowess, capable of jumping, running, and hitting harder than a normal Earthling. However, they were very lacking in ranged weaponry and any sense of technology (or at least, from a very limited observation). It would be a vested interest of the Terran to maintain that edge, especially considering that their ammunition was still sufficiently lethal. The locals must not be able to replicate any modern technology or equipment. Clearly, ammunition would be one of them.
Still, it was just a brief flash in his mind, and it was with much fewer words. One did not have to make grammatically correct sentences while thinking, after all. His eyes had already focused on a new figure, one of the locals, and Vuong instantly knew that this would be "make or break". This might be also the reason why he was called to rally up with Actual.
The figure approaching the duo was a middle-aged man, around 30 to 40. His skin tone was light, not snow white like someone had spent too much time indoors, but it was more like healthy light shade. There were also fewer wrinkles on his face, compared to people of similar age (but seemingly lower social status) in the convoy. His hair, only dotted with a few grey strands of hair, was neatly surrounded by a ring of deep blue cloth. Kind of like a hat, albeit one with no cover.
He was also wearing a suit of the same color – dark blue. Though not the "suit" as envisioned by some formal Terran dresses, it was a flashier and non-martial variant of Oriental martial art suits. The Japanese had a term for that: Gi. However, the lapels were made much less obvious, the sleeves were larger, the collar seemed to be made with tough cloth and stood up, and the bottom of the suit actually reached mid-thigh. For the pants, the local man was wearing a pair of white trousers. Cotton-made, by the look of it. Quite comfy, if one ignored that part that the suit actually reached mid-thigh. To finish the picture, the man was sporting a pair of cloth shoes – very similar to the ones used by Shaolin monks. He would not be completely out of place in a history lesson, where Viet Nam of the 16th to 18th centuries was investigated and studied.
Considering that most of the other convoy members were just wearing brownish cotton suits and having no footwear, it looked like the man was some kind of important figure. Factoring in the part that this convoy was also carrying armed convoy, and there were better clothes worn by other people, Vuong made a reasonable assumption that this man was some sort of butler for some sort official's family. A merchant might be a safe bet too, but a merchant should not have a flag being carried in the open like this.
The question was that if this was an official's family, how high on the food chain were they? And then, who were the ambushers?
Well, all would be revealed in due time, but for now, he would stay quiet and listen to what others said.
"This humble self would like to greet thine esteem and honored Lord and Lady. This lowly man hopes to express his thanks for your support, saving our lady from a terrible and humiliating fate."
Call it.
Vuong understood the speech. And that was the problem.
How the fuck an alien-human civilization could form on a non-Earth planet? How the actual fuck that the Terrans encounter this on their very first colonization project? And how, in the name of anything holy and great, could he meet someone capable of speaking Vietnamese?
Sure, archaic Vietnamese and with some light accent, but Vietnamese nonetheless. Vuong just resigned to the fate, no use fighting back at the moment. At least it was marginally better than having to speak a completely foreign tongue… Though to be fair, he had read somewhere that the ancient Vietnamese was also completely unknown to the modern Vietnamese.
He stood still, just slightly bowed his head to answer to the greeting of the presumable butler. He was not the commanding officer of the unit, so it was better to keep his communion hole shut. Lucky for him, his commander had quickly spoken up. If the man had any reservations about a female answering instead of a male, he did not show it.
"Greeting good sir. We are just doing what is right, please do not fret."
"… This humble man, on behalf of the Lady, would like to offer some rewards and compensation. Would you honored Lord and Lady mind if we visit our humble abode for further discussion?"
"We would like to thank you for your hospitality, however, our honor and duty dictate that we must decline it. A good deed done is a reward of itself."
Not to mention that Bravo Actual was still under the employment of the People's Army of Viet Nam (or Vietnamese People's Army, depending on the translation). The higher-ups would have her hide (and extension, his) if she accepted any monetary rewards from the people. The code of conduct was strongly enforced, almost to a point of zealotry.
"We humbly accept your wisdom. However, would you mind overlooking our modest batch of tea? Your presence would be a great honor for us?"
Basically, the butler wanted to say thanks. Considering the presumably Young Lady and Young Master of the convoy were… indisposed, he simply had to step up to the game. Vuong could totally get behind that sentiment. When the boss and the ace of the team were out of the game, then the next most capable man must proceed to fight or work.
A few extra polite words were traded between the two of them, but Vuong's mind had already wandered away. He had no personal stake in the conversation, and this type of roundabout speech was not his forte. His style was more like using simple, efficient, clear-cut phrases. Engineering courses as well as the Pioneer training made sure that it was his go-to method. How an officer was still capable of understanding and speaking archaic address was beyond his comprehension.
However, the talk was quickly cut short with the arrival of Bravo Five, the medic. She paid no attention to the butler and reported straight to Actual. Considering that she was just taking care of a critical case, a man being impaled on the ground, such impoliteness could be handwaved away. Probably.
"Actual, we have a problem."
"Which is?"
"The man has been temporarily stabilized. However, his lung and intestine have been punctured, his lung is also damaged. Severe internal bleeding. And worse. He will die in 12 hours without any medical intervention. And before you ask, no, I cannot do anything without resorting to our mothership."
"… So, in short, we must transport him to our ship, if we want to keep him alive."
"And in one piece."
That was… well, shit. The two girls quickly turned to a side and discussed rapidly. It looked like they are opening up a line to Chaos… Well, hope that went well. Vuong was pretty sure that there was no permission to engage yet. Still, the Young Lady of the convoy was about to be raped, which was a full new moral horizon. If Tam issued the order to open fire, the righteous high ground would be hers. Or at least, that was what Vuong hoped. Misgivings because of their shared past aside, he fully believed that she had made the right call here.
Well, he still had the butler standing in front of him, which meant that he had to explain the whole issue. The man seemed to be surprised that the young man could be actually saved. To be fair for him, saving someone from deathbed due to organs being punctured was still a rough job. Stem cell and clone tech were not a for-all answer. Organ transplants were highly dependent on the "mesh" ability between the donor and receiver. Bionic tech was useful, but they were not particularly recommendable for someone having their whole liver crushed… Or for someone from the Medieval era.
However, Vuong only said that his men were capable of saving the impaled guard, or at least, giving him a much easier and nicer way out. He simply cited that he was no doctor and healer, so patching that guy up was not clearly understood. At least the butler seemed agreeable on that matter, medicine and healthcare were almost arcane in his view.
"This humble self would like to thank you on his Master's behalf. The guard is a wonderful warrior, it would be a regret to lose such a fine man like him."
No shit.
The man fought like a demon to protect the convoy. Alone, he claimed no less than ten kills and twelve injured. Still, the ambushers had a very definitive edge in terms of manpower, so he was still beaten in the end. At least, he was able of making his enemy paid for their victory in blood.
"My Lord, if this humble servant can ask you something?"
"Yes, please go ahead sir."
"This low-rank being thank you for your respect and magnanimity. This servant is surely unworthy of it when he is just wondering where his Lordship hails from."
Despite having zero training in such diplomatic and archaic, ancient ways of speaking, Vuong was still very impressed. It was not every day when you can listen to someone melding two distinct pieces of information or lines of thought into the same sentence yet still capable of maintaining integrity. Still, the roundabout talk did not fit him well. He preferred the concise and comprehensive style… though there was saying about this, too. When in Rome, do like Romans.
"We are from a place far far away, very far from here. A single trip can take 10 years, and this is actually our first trip. Our job here is to explore, to establish a new home for us. However, that is before we realize that this land has been claimed."
Technically speaking, more like the Terrans had no idea that this planet was actually seeded with intelligent lives. Still, those two were practically the same thing, a sentient and sapient life would hold a piece of land for its own. The strangest part was probably meeting actual humans and capable of communicating with them, though.
The butler pressed for more details, but Vuong did his best to give him the barest details only. He made no mention of any political entities of Terra or the way they traveled to this planet. The only thing being focused on was the new development. From the original premise of establishing a new city, a new task would be considered, prioritizing peaceful co-existing and co-operation with the local populace. No firm promise was made though, Vuong simply deflected that he was just a pioneer, not a diplomat, and he was in no position to make any treaty.
The butler, seemingly caught on his tactics, applied the same. He quickly gave out no concrete information and no specific idea. Apparently, this butler also knew his craft in the business of intrigue, or cloak and dagger. Vuong hoped that it would not be actual dagger though. Waking up with a steel blade plunged into his heart would not be a comfortable feeling…
Great, he wanted to prove himself in the First colonization program, not being thrown into the gutter with a First contact scenario. High Command should compensate well for this, preferably with a large stash of vodka. He really enjoyed making cocktails from that breed of alcohol.
Luckily, he was saved with Bravo Actual, Captain Tam, returning from a hush-hush conversation with Chaos. On the bright side, the Colonel had agreed to transport and transfer the impale guard onto the mothership for advanced medical treatment. On the other hand, it exploded into a heated discussion. The impaled guard's comrades (and the Young Lady) seemed very displeased that the man would be transported alone. They simply did not trust PAC (not that they knew the name yet), though considering that the two sides had met for barely an hour, such hostility and suspicion were totally expected.
That prompted another round of discussion with Chaos, and after a long period of silence, the return from command was highly welcome. Up to three people could accompany the impaled guard to the mothership. Though from the quick message sent via the wrist-mount datapad and the HUD on the team's goggles, it was clear that some personnel on the team would also be pulled back. They would act as the bodyguard for this group.
Or to be more precise: an insurance policy. If the local wreaked havoc or being a danger to everyone during the flight up, they would be disposed of immediately.
Clearly, the convoy did not have to know about this. They only needed to know that their request for a tag-along had been accepted. Sure, there were only three people, and they would be further escorted by armed personnel, but they accepted that nonetheless.
However, it quickly led to a new problem.
"So, other than carts, horse-drawn and hand-drawn, you guys have no nice and easy way to transport him?"
"No, my Lord. The injured is usually loaded on a cart or brought back to the rear by hand. Such a process would be very tedious, however."
The mechanical pioneer and the medic made a face upon learning that. The carts were not equipped with any suspension and shock absorption, and the route cutting through the jungle would be very bumpy. This, in turn, would facilitate the need for hammock or stretcher, aiming for a smoother and safer ride. The problem was that the locals still had not discovered those concepts. Though to be fair, the first was only "full practice" since the mid-20th century, and the later was discovered by the Spanish upon arrival on the Americas. The concept might sound simple, but to actually get that and to make it were a full process. Just like the Periodic Table… funny story about how it was made in the first place.
The local convoy was thinking that the impaled guard would be transported by hand (to wherever he would be treated). Such a process would be quite risky for future medical surgeries, barely better than putting him on a bumpy cart. He might die before reaching the dropship, and it would be a messy death. To counter this, some new technology must be introduced.
And that was a full new can of worm.
Vuong started to feel the stress on his shoulder now. As much as he wanted to save the impaled guard, introducing new technology was very risky. The media as well as history had proven the danger of doing so. Still, those stories were more about high and advanced technology. Compared to them, hammocks and stretchers were much more mundane and simple. Yet, they were key in many warfare practices, even until the mid-20th century. And even then, it was better not to dismiss simple technology, the French did so with the bicycles modified by Vietnamese, and they suffered the defeat of the Battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954.
He was not immoral, he was just… being pragmatic and careful.
"Actual, should I make some hammocks and stretchers to transport the man?"
"About to order you to… but why are we speaking English? And why are you asking me for permission?"
"The first is for OPSEC, operational security. Better not to let them understand any sensitive information. And the second… well, we don't really want any tech to get into their hands and used against us."
"Hammocks and stretchers are simple enough."
"But from a logistic standpoint, they would be revolutionary for the local. And if you want to dismiss their importance, well, do you remember the Battle of Dien Bien Phu in 1954 with modified bicycles? How the French and American dismissed them and later those two had to swallow the bitter pill?"
Vuong exhaled slowly, feeling somewhat stressed because of the situation. It really sounded like he had a bone to pick with the local, or at least, being an arse.
"Listen, I'm just playing the devil's advocate here. I have no fucking clue if I'm doing it right or wrong, that's why I'm asking you, alright?"
The girl looked unfazed by his grunt, though she simply nodded.
What happened next surprised him. Instead of pointing out that one of her men was making the question, she claimed responsibility on the issue. In other words, she was the one asking for permission to introducing new technology to the local. Not only hammocks and stretchers would be made, but also IV drip.
Yeah, Vuong forgot about that too. The Thai medic only gave the impaled man some pain killer and something to stop the bleeding and removed him from being pinned to the ground. She was now rushing back to him and applying some IV drip – looked like something just got more complicated.
Watching the medic doing her work stoke a fire in his mind. Basically, it went "Fuck the Prime Directive" and called out for him to make some stretcher.
At least there was enough raw material around. Some pieces of rough and low-quality cotton had been punctured and cut during the fight, but they were still more than enough to form up the main body of the stretcher. The whole group was still staying next to a jungle, which meant that collecting some wood for the handle. Failing that, there were still quite a lot of spears being scattered on the ground, from both the ambushers and the convoy. And for the IV, well, he could totally cut down a spear shaft into smaller sections, and there was a roll of duct tape in his backpack.
He was half-way through making a new stretcher when he felt someone sitting down next to him… that one was no one other than the Captain. She just nodded, signaling that the permission had been granted. In all fairness, it was more like a formality. The mechanical pioneer had already been building a stretcher from scratch, and the medic had been giving him some IV to stabilize him.
The stretcher was definitely not pretty. It was some plain and unprocessed cotton being put haphazardly together with two spear shafts collected from the ground. For cutting tool, a bayonet was used, and for adhesive, it was duct tape. One might ask why ropes were not used. The answer was simple, the Recon Team Bravo was using thick ropes, somewhat similar to the one used for mountain climbing. Punching holes on the cloth and adapting the rope for the new purpose would be too time-consuming. Meanwhile, using duct tape would be much faster, while using less material and yielding the same result.
Sure, the stretcher was not pretty, but it worked. And that was all that mattered.
Trust Vuong, he was an engineer.
The presence and appearance of the stretcher surprised the big wigs of the convoy. The Young Master (the crying boy earlier) and the Young Lady (the girl almost got raped) wanted to donate some of their belongings to make it. However, Vuong turned it down. Sure, their sentiment was something he could agree on, but the material they were planning for donation… well, not so much. The dresses were too thin, too short, and too expensive for his liking.
Still, the Young Lady insisted on that, so he compromised by having Bravo Five using the piece of cloth as a bandage. Considering that she had already torn it out of her dress and the guard was still leaking blood somewhere… Well, better not wasting any material after all.
"Thank you, my Lord, for helping us humble and lowly guards."
"Meh, don't fret. Saving lives is simply what one should do."
One of the guards thanked him while Vuong was sheathing the bayonet back into its holder. The mechanical pioneer was a bit too distracted by the injured guard to give a comprehensive answer though. The man… well, more like a young man. He was quite young, probably about 18 or 17. Barely into 20. Or at least the appearance said so.
His mustache was light and scattered on the top of his brown lips over a round yet roguish face. It was tanned and lightly scarred, evident of life outdoor with harsh experiences. The body build was quite a tone and muscular, not the "perfect" version like the bodybuilders, but more like someone being passed through a hellish military training and lived to tell the tale. Interestingly, he was only medium-height, at least using the threshold of PAC. For the local though, he was definitely tall and large, more evidence of a warrior in training.
Shame that he had his body punctured.
To be fair, he was quite good looking too, kind of in a rug and rough way. Quite pleasing to watch. No wonder why the Young Lady held him in high regard, crying her eyes out when he was close to death. Well, hope the guy could have some proper girlfriend the whole debacle. Girls liked scars, it seemed, and having the whole "my death has been largely exaggerated" would be badass.
The guy had been put on the stretcher already, the two intact guards were holding it up, testing its structure and strength. It would be a shame if the shafts or the cloth suddenly broke while en-route. The mechanical pioneer applied a lot of duct tape, but it was always better to be sure, Murphy law and such. The IV drip was also attached to a vertical pole, itself was broken from another spear and fastened vertically into the stretcher with duct tape (again). It appeared that the stretcher was stable and strong enough to hold the guy.
Well, all was good then, the guy would be brought to the dropship, and from there, to the mothership for…
"Bravo Six here. Can anyone check some of the ambushers? I think we have some shit."
The voice of the Singaporean bio-chem pioneer cut through the radio channel, mixed with surprise and disbelief. Something had startled him – and considering that he was just seeing a skirmish and having his ears rattled, that would be something to consider.
Vuong and Tam shared a brief look at each other, unsure of what to do. The young Vietnamese pioneer was puzzled, having no idea on why his fellow did not report the situation, but rather requesting a double check… Though to be more precise, he had already started wondering how fucked up the situation would be. It would always be some serious shit if an engineer requested a double or triple check from some other people.
And when the female Captain pulled out the mask from a fallen ambusher, the answer was clear. The situation had gone from "back from the brink" to "out of the frying pan".
The Coalition just got their Second Contact. Or to be more precise, the second First Contact, within the same day.
The Captain was also taken aback with this, so she quickly moved on to check on another, and another, and another. In total, six dead ambushers had been checked, and they all returned the same result, this would be the second First Contact of the PAC within the very first day on the planet.
Vuong just idly watched the first ambusher being unmasked. Well, it was a girl – if the two budges on the torso and a slenderer build were reliable indicators. Two arms, two legs, at the end of each limb were five digits laid out in a very normal human manner. Her face also sported two eyes, a nose and a mouth, all were at the front. On top of her head, there was also a layer of black fur, which was equivalent to a normal girl's long black hair being tied into a bun. However, that was perhaps the end of the similarity.
She did not have round ears on the side of the head like normal humans… She had cat ears. Black cat ears.
Yeah, so some fucking nekomimi.
Vuong glanced to the side, watching new ambushers' figures being revealed. There was also a tiger girl, two wolf boys, one dog girl, and one lizard boy. The whole Recon Team Bravo was stunned with this new development. What would happen next? Some bloody elves?
However, it was not as critical as a yell from Bravo Two:
"WE HAVE A SURVIVOR!"