for mountain Master Sergeant Azarel Kane wore a maroon beret. A silver Pararescue flash sat above his left eye — the only indication of what he actually did for a living. Most people in the chamber didn’t recognize it. Some did. Because Pararescue Jumpers are not usually sent to ceremonies. They are sent where people are dying. Kane sits at the witness stand stiff-backed and exhausted beneath the courtroom lights. When sworn in, his voice is calm and roughened slightly from fatigue. “Master Sergeant Azarel Kane.” “United States of Cain Pararescue Jumper.” The prosecutor nods once. “Master Sergeant Kane… tell us everything you saw.” The courtroom falls silent. “My team deployed approximately forty minutes after the detonation.” “We were informed hostiles could still be operating in the area, so we entered armed while conducting rescue operations.” “Nobody likes carrying a rifle while treating civilians.” He pauses briefly. “We inserted east of Oniwarri International Raceway.” “Smoke was visible before landing.” “Heavy black smoke.” His voice stays clinical. Controlled. “Local emergency response had partially collapsed by the time we arrived.” “Too many casualties.” “Too much panic.” He folds his hands tighter together. “The majority of damage was concentrated around the western bleacher sectors.” “Those sections were sheltering displaced Sangrian civilians.” “Families.” “Children.” A long silence fills the chamber. “There were still bodies in the seats when we entered.” Nobody moves. “We established casualty collection points and began separating survivable and non-survivable injuries.” “Most common injuries were fragmentation trauma, burns, amputations, and blast injuries.” Then: “A lot of the victims were children.” His tone never changes. Which somehow makes it worse. “At the central western access corridor, we encountered remains consistent with an internal detonation source.” “The individual appeared to be wearing an explosive vest or fragmentation harness.” Quiet murmurs spread through the tribunal. Azarel keeps speaking. “Positive identification was not possible.” “We secured the area and continued extraction operations.” Then: “There was no visible military presence within the raceway.” “No fortified positions.” “No active firefight.” “Just civilians.” The room goes silent again. “One girl — around eight years old — had severe fragmentation injuries.” “She kept asking where her father was.” “We found him nearby.” “He had shielded her during the blast.” Azarel pauses briefly. “She survived.” “He didn’t.” Even the translators stop for a second before continuing. “My team remained on-site for eleven hours.” “By the end of operations, casualty zones were still full.” “There were too many dead to move quickly.” He finally looks directly toward the tribunal panel. “I’ve worked crashes.” “Earthquakes.” “Combat rescues.” “But I have never seen that many civilians gathered in one place after a bombing.” A pause. “And I have never forgotten the sound afterward.”
