"What do you think of Colonel Taylor's latest condemnation of the treatment of the alien prisoners after having so recently brutally killed them for entertainment?"
"I think the Colonel is most mistaken in his apathy for these monsters. Maybe he is disillusioned with the bloodshed, or maybe mentally scarred from all that he has seen. No one can deny his great efforts during the war, but Taylor is very much that, a war machine, one which should stay out of politics."
"Strong words, and now onto Miss Patricia Nowak, a key representative in the Earth for Humans movement. What's your feeling on Colonel Taylor's surprise comments in Paris that have sparked so much controversy?"
"The Colonel’s comments were way out of line. He of all people should understand the threat these invaders pose, and while he may have been a hero a few years ago, people change. His latest actions are those of a coward."
Taylor cut the transmission off. He couldn't listen to it any longer.
"How quickly they turn on you," he whispered.
He felt helpless now that they were shut away in the stadium. Then he remembered Armand and shuffled through his pocket to find the Councillor's card. He pulled out his Mappad and slipped it into the reader. His credentials came up and were immediately authenticated. His hand hovered over the contact button. A man he'd never met, and he was going to reach out to him for, well he didn't know what.
"What the hell," he said and put the call through.
Taylor was surprised to see Armand's face. It was a direct line to the man personally.
"Colonel Taylor, what can I do for you?"
"I'm not entirely sure, but you must be aware of what's happening in the World. Something has to be done, and no one Stateside is interested."
"Stay put, Colonel. I'll come to you."
Taylor was surprised at the response and speechless for a moment.
"That...would be great."
"I'll see you shortly, Colonel."
The call ended, and Taylor put the news back on. He hated having to watch it but knew he had to stay abreast of everything that was happening. More scenes of protests filled the screen, and a reporter was being shoved around as she tried to talk into the camera.
"I'm here at the entrance to the Gafsa Prisoner of War Camp in Tunisia. Home to as many as ten thousand enemy soldiers, it is one of the larger prisons, and as a result, a massive draw to people calling for an end to their lives. Around five thousand protestors have gathered here so far, with more arriving every hour. People are calling for something to be done, but the authorities are nowhere to be seen, in a standoff which is looking increasingly dangerous for all involved."
Screams rang out, and Taylor heard the sound of two gunshots in the background. The camera turned to show a protestor fall from one of the perimeter fences. The video shook around as the crew tried to get closer and managed to get a partially obscured view of the man getting to his feet and looking in pain.
"It looks as if non-lethal ammunition has been authorised to be used against anybody who makes an attempt on the perimeter of this massive complex. Attempts are also being made to sway incoming pilots bringing in supplies to turn away, of which we have seen a few do so. Everyone here is looking for the authorities to do something. I am now hearing reports that pro-life alien sympathisers have also started demonstrations nearby."
"Look at them," said Taylor. "At each other's throats, and over what?"
"They are right, though. You can't keep that many enemy soldiers locked up forever."
"What would you suggest? We can't free them. They are the enemy. We can't kill them. That would be barbaric. And we can't send them home, as even if it was logistically possible, we can't return troops who would likely be sent right back against us."
"Death is the kindest option," Jafar replied quickly.
He was starting to see it wasn't as simple a problem to sort out as he first thought.
Death does indeed seem like the answer, but it’s also the kind of genocide humanity has fought so hard against.
"Can we not sway them to our side, or at least live in peace, like you and I?" he asked.
Jafar looked highly doubtful.
"Would you risk it? A potential army let loose in the World in order to keep your conscious clean?"
"So this is it? The answer is to become like them and commit genocide so that we can live the lives we want to? I don't accept that."
A minute later, Armand was at the door. Taylor was surprised he could get there so quickly. He could see no reason why he'd been at the stadium unless he had been waiting for his call.
"How can I help you, Colonel?"
"You must have seen the news."
"Yes, and very disturbing it is, too."
"It's time we did something about it."
That tweaked the Councillor’s interest, and it almost seemed as if he'd been waiting for days for Taylor to come out with such words of his own accord.
"As part of my duties in the UEN, I have been asked to head to Tunisia to some of the worst of these protests, and see if I can do anything to quell them peacefully. Having a famous face such as yours by my side could make all the difference. Your comments on TV have gained substantial support. Maybe not with everyone, but enough."
"And you think a marine could calm the environment down? It's not what we're intended for."
"I think you have forgotten your true purpose, Colonel. A marine fights for peace, not the continuation of war."
"Mmm," he muttered in response.
"Things are looking bad in North Africa. Will you give it a shot, and come with me or not?"
Anything to get out of here.
"Yes."
"Great, then there's no time to lose. Let's move."
He really has been waiting for my call.
Armand led them to the stadium grounds where a ship awaited them. It was a luxurious yacht and far from the simple military vessel the Deveron was. He seemed to be whisked away into yet another world he was unfamiliar with.
It was a short journey to Gafsa, and as they approached, Taylor could see a swarm of people at the perimeter walls. They flew right over the masses of civilians and came down to a landing pad just inside the walls. As the engines powered down, they could already hear the screams of the crowd even through the reinforced glass.
“This ain’t gonna be easy,” said Taylor.
“If it was an easy job, I’d not have got you on board,” replied Armand.
“That’s reassuring.”
They headed down the ramp out into the warm open air where the crowd’s roars drowned out almost everything. A small party that was armed greeted them on the landing strip, including the prison warden, an army officer of the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. He instantly recognised Taylor and was uneasy in how to take his presence.
“Lieutenant-Colonel Spiteri, I hope you boys have some answers here because this is becoming a real shit storm!” he yelled.
They could barely hear him over the sound of the heckling crowds.
“Follow me!”
They did as he asked, and Taylor leaned in to Jafar.
“Why do we always end up in the shit?”
“Because you volunteer us,” he replied.
Taylor wasn’t sure if he was being straight or exhibiting sharp wit, but it made him laugh, either way. They passed beyond several guards into an operations room where the rest of the Colonel’s staff were largely standing around with nothing to do, except talk among themselves. No one even called them to attention as the base commander entered, and it was already clear to Taylor that it was run as a very loose ship.