Fourth Vector Ch. 05

What happened next had her screaming in agony. Another shot from the hills raced down and put a direct hit on the deck not far from where Luke was walking. The explosion was enough to throw his body several yards from where he stood, her pained eyes watching the entire event unfold as her lover took the full blast of the shot.

"Luke!" she screamed as she watched his body hit the same railing he had just been walking along, immediately crumpling against it and turning lifeless.

Kim nearly collapsed at the sight, all confidence now shattered at watching the event with her own eyes. Beside her, Cory grabbed the command radio from her hand and dialed it into Jack's frequency as the ship snapped the enemy chain along the mouth of the harbor.

"Jack, come in. Jack, this is Cory Renner on theValiant. We're under attack by Daimanos!"

*****

The command radio at Jack's waist crackled through the quiet dining room as a garbled message tried to get through. Jack hurried to grab the radio and press it against his ear, trying to make out just who was on the other side. By how broken the message was, he was almost positive it wasn't coming from theDestiny floating just offshore.

"Jack, can you hear me?"

"I hear you loud and clear. What's going on?" asked Jack as the others watched the radio with mixed looks of trepidation and worry.

"Jack, it's Cory. Daimanos is firing on us! TheValiant is under attack and we've had to break out from the harbor."

Jack squeezed the radio tightly and then looked over to the solemn king of West Sorella. Heron hung his head and closed his eyes, while Nikias gulped visibly at the news of their premonition coming true. It now seemed that he had finally found out the true extent of Daimanos' duplicity.

"How bad is it?" asked Jack slowly. "What are your casualties?"

"I don't know yet, Jack," answered Cory. "But I think Luke might be among them. They had our position dialed in. We've taken several major hits including a direct hit on the first rear turret. It's bad, Jack."

Jack clutched the radio closer to his chest as his head fell.Not Luke, he thought to himself.Not my old friend.

"Are you away from danger now? Are you out to sea?"

"Aye, Jack. We just escaped the port, and we're finally out of gun range. We're floating off shore and readying the remaining turrets to go back in and shell the city."

Jack shook his head. "No, Cory, don't do that. I don't want any other nasty surprises that Daimanos may have planned, especially with our forces separated. I want you to come join us over here in West Sorella."

"West Sorella? Have you taken it over then?"

Jack looked up to see the faces of Heron and Nikias both looking intently at the radio. "Not exactly, Cory. Let's just say we've been duped by Daimanos. There's much to explain and no time to do it right now. I want you to radio over to Abigail and get her position. Rendezvous with us as soon as you can."

"You got it, Jack," said Cory. "Stay safe out there."

"And you, Cory," answered Jack before putting the command radio back to his waist.

Heron was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, Jack. Even after all these years, my brother still surprises me with how quickly he is to act in bad faith."

Jack looked up with a determined stare. "He'll pay for this, Heron. I don't care what we have to do but too many of my men are dead now because of Daimanos. I'll make him pay greatly for every Javan life he's taken today."

Heron nodded solemnly. "Will you fight with us then, Jack? Will you join us and help to free our people?"

Before Jack could answer, a knock came at the front door of the house. Heron nodded to Nikias who quickly crossed the distance and threw open the door. One of Heron's men quickly stepped inside and settled his gaze on the king.

"Your Majesty, Daimanos' forces are gathering just outside the wall."

Heron nodded quickly. "So it begins," he said in a low voice. He then turned to face Jack. "I need to get to my troops. We don't have much time."

"No, you don't," said Jack with a subtle head shake. "But you do have an ally."

The Javan commander walked over to the West Sorellan king and offered his hand. "We'll fight with you, Heron. We can't let his actions bring a dark cloud of misery over this island. Over your homeland. There are too many good men dead because of Daimanos."

Heron's eyes turned misty before he reached out and took Jack's hand firmly. "It would be an honor to fight by your side, Jack."

As the men shook hands on their new alliance, the sounds of gunfire finally pierced the open air. The stark reminder that they were in the middle of a battlefield became once again apparent as the four of them hurried to the door. Jack found the marines settled in their defense positions, many of them alert and on guard at the sounds of war just over the horizon.

"Marines, on us!" yelled Greg while waving them in to see Jack.

Once the entire group surrounded the two men, Jack raised his hand to catch their attention.

"There's a lot going on right now and no time to explain it. The short story is that we will now be defending the city. The West Sorellans are going to bring us to their defensive wall, and I need you to take up positions behind it and defend the city. Believe me, when this is all over, I will explain the sudden change in our mission, but we need to move out. Now!"

"Now, marines, let's march!" yelled Greg as all of them snapped to attention and began to march as one team, following on the tail of Heron's warriors. They marched out of the plaza along a main thoroughfare toward the eastern edge of the town as the sounds of gunfire rang out louder and louder. Every few minutes, an explosion would destroy a nearby building or throw up a mound of dirt and dust from a missed shot. For the men of the Javan marines, it was just another day of fighting with their brothers.

Finally, they came upon a stout defensive wall guarding the perimeter of Heron's capital. On top of the wall, his remaining soldiers could be seen in full action, firing rapidly at a force just beyond their sight.

"Captain Reynolds, I want you to take your men and guard the southern approaches on that section," said Greg, using his finger to point out the ramparts where the men would hold. As that group of marines rushed forward, he turned to another captain. "Captain Buckwell, I want you to defend the northern approaches with B company."

"Yes, sir," yelled out Buckwell as he began to rush up the rampart on the northern side.

"What about you and me?" asked Greg. "Where do you want to position ourselves?"

Jack pointed straight ahead. "Let's get up there over the main gate. Heron's up there as well. I want to be in the thick of the action and get some more practice in with my shooting."

Greg smirked. "I hope that practice came in handy."

"We're about to find out!"

The two men quickly ascended to the main rampart over the gate, giving them their first real view of the hinterland before the city. Below them rushed in Daimanos' warriors. The first wave was in full swing, a mix of young men absentmindedly running toward the wall and taking no cover. They made the first targets, usually greatly exposed and closest to the shooters on the wall.

It was the second wave that was harder to get to. Most of them kneeled in the heavy grass just along the treeline across from the city. It was these men that guarded Daimanos' heavy artillery, which kept up a steady bombardment of the city walls. It was having a destructive effect on what remained of the defensive wall. One solid shot by a cannon could cause an entire chunk of stonework to wither to dust, slowly reducing the overall integrity of the wall.

"We got to start picking off the gunners of those cannons," yelled Greg over the roar of battle. "If we kill the gunners, we kill the cannons!"

"Let's make those bastards pay!" roared Jack in approval. He was thankful for having one of Greg's NT-12 rifles although the only reason he was able to get one was because it had been requisitioned off of one of the dead marines from the Lishkerran ordeal. Quickly, Jack lined up one of the heavy cannons in his sight, and pulled the trigger once the crosshairs centered on the cannon loader. The unfortunate man crumbled in his spot, leading a replacement to rush forward to take over his roll. Soon enough, Jack had felled that man as well.

"There's so many of these bastards," yelled Greg after several minutes. "As soon as I take one down, another one arrives to take his place!"

"Keep up your firing! Daimanos can't keep attacking this place forever."

On and on, Jack kept a steady rate of fire on those cannons closest to him. Eventually he was able to move on to another battery to begin taking out more gunners but felt dismayed when he returned to the original cannon to see it near full operation once more. Below them, the second wave of men was moving closer, crawling into the battlefield and using the grass as camouflage where they could.

Suddenly, Jack felt a presence right behind him. He looked back to see Heron sliding in beside him, his great musket falling alongside his own. "Good shooting there, Jack. We have to take out those guns!"

"We're doing all we can," said Jack. "There's too many of them. We can't kill them fast enough."

Heron nodded quickly. "Just keep up your steady rate of fire. It's all we can do right now!"

A large explosion took place on the wall just off to their right, throwing up the shattered remains of stone and dust and cloaking them all in a thick fog. Jack found himself coughing as the gritty taste seemed to fill his mouth, an awful mixture of earth and smoke. The rest of the world darkened as the light of the sun was blocked by the thick aftermath of the blast.

By the time he recovered, the second wave had moved much closer and were now laying a steady stream of fire on his position. It was enough to make him more conscious about sticking his head over the rampart to fire as the whizzing sounds of bullets came too close for comfort.

"Covering fire!" Greg yelled, seeming to read Jack's same thoughts.

"Covering fire for the major," yelled a nearby marine and the sounds of gunfire increased as a group of five men poured an intense shower of lead on the nearby East Sorellans.

"Ready? On my command. Three. Two. One. Now!" yelled Jack, as both he and Greg leapt up and started to fire rapidly at the front ranks only mere yards from the wall. Those front ranks of East Sorellans had already been caught by surprise by the covering fire by the nearby group of marines and now that they were getting it from two directions, the attack quickly melted away. Many of them ran back headlong into the forest just as quickly as they had emerged, and for a short while, there weren't any East Sorellans left on the battlefield in front of them, earning them a much needed respite.

"How are you guys doing over there?" Greg called out to the nearby marines.

"Not bad, but we're low on ammo," said one of the men, tapping at all that remaining of his clip. "If they keep coming, we might run out."

Greg nodded before standing up and running along the wall to another set of marines. Several of them were hunched over a fallen comrade, a particularly unlucky fellow who had taken a direct shot in the neck.

"We're doing fine, Major. You think they're going to come back?"

"Who knows. Keep your eyes open and keep your fire steady," advised Greg before continuing down the line and checking on all the men.

Greg finally returned to Jack's position, crouching down low next to the commander. "The boys are holding up well, but I'm concerned about their ammunition levels. We may run out if they hit us any harder."

Jack nodded and pulled at his command radio. "I have an idea how we can solve that. We just need a little more firepower. Abigail, come in, this is Jack. Can you hear me?"

The commander of theDestiny patched through a few moments later. "Jack, what's going on in there?"

"I need your guns, and I need you to send the second wave of marines to shore. Can you send them into the city and have them approach the city's defensive wall? We're mounting our defense right here. It's a long story, but we're fighting with the West Sorellans now."

There was a moment of silence on the other end but finally her voice came back with an uncertain tone. "I know, Jack. Cory already told me. I'll give the order to launch now."

"I need you too, Abigail. I need you to bring the ship closer to shore and help us out with the bombardment of the enemy positions."

Her voice crackled over the radio. "What about any land-based artillery? Is it safe for us to come in?"

Jack grimaced. "Probably not but we need to relieve the pressure on the wall. If you can take out some of these guns with your own, we can end this."

"Aye, Jack, we'll move in closer," said Abigail before her tone changed considerably. "Take care of yourself, please."

Jack gave a light chuckle. "Yes, ma'am," he radioed back.

As Jack latched the command radio back to his belt, he turned to look over the rampart at the battlefield below. Most of the dark cloud of the spent ammunition had begun to dissipate and for the first time since the battle began, he could get a clearer sight of what laid beyond the wall without anyone shooting at him.

It was a horrifying spectacle—even for someone who had been in a war and had seen death. Bodies littered the grassy plain, having fallen where they were struck. Their still figures and vacant expressions confirmed that life had long since left their bodies. What was even worse were the ones still alive. They used all the remaining strength and workable limps left to drag themselves back to the forest edge and apparent safety. Several of the men were able to limp back on working legs yet with shattered appendages. Jack saw one man who only had a bloody stump where his right arm had been, no doubt taken out by one of their heavier assault weapons.

Others crawled along brokenly, using what remained of their upper body strength to carry shattered legs along the meadow below. They were all marked by the telltale sign of their struggle—a bloody trail following in their wake. Several of the more noticeable trails never made it back to the front and expired well far from the tree line.

Greg nodded out to the few survivors out on the field. "What do you think? Should we use them as target practice?"

Jack quickly shook his head. "Not that I wouldn't enjoy seeing their comeuppance after how many people they've killed but we're low on ammunition as is. Their day will come."

The marine nodded and once more carefully scanned the battlefield. "What do you think they'll do next? Think they have enough men to throw at us again?"

Jack shrugged. "There seemed to be plenty of them that ran to the tree line after the last assault. My gut feeling is that they're regrouping for another try."

"I feel the same," said Greg. "What do you want to do if they come back in force and we can't stop them?"

Jack took a deep breath and gave a worried expression to his friend. "Let's pray that it doesn't come to that. If we try to execute a fighting retreat back to the ship, it'll be a bloodbath."

"Hold at all costs then," said Greg quietly.

"Hopefully, the remaining marines get here soon."

*****

Not far from the battlefield, two hooded characters stood perched along a low ridge just to the north of the West Sorellan city. One, an elderly man, was still winded from the ascent up the hill and sat against the base of a tree in an attempt to catch his breath. Pulling a canteen from his waist, he drank heavily of the sweet-tasting water contained within.

The other figure remained completely obscured save for the stray locks of golden, blonde hair that had stuck out of her hood. She stood on the highest part of the ridge and looked down to the battle. The woman watched the battle intently as the minions of Daimanos threw another wave of warriors at the battered wall of the West Sorellans. What she couldn't see so easily was the position of the commander of the Javans, fighting while protected by the strength of the wall. Yet the steady cannonade at the wall seemed to be destroying it. Her gut told her it wouldn't hold much longer.

"Should we intervene? They won't be able to hold out much longer," asked her aged companion while pointing a finger toward the battle.

The woman shook her head fiercely. "Not if he's who I think he is. We cannot interfere with the prophecy."

"And if he dies? What then?"

The woman's tone turned more uncertain. "Then he's not the one we've been waiting on."

*****

Jack found himself keeping a steady eye on the battlefield when he felt a presence behind him. Turning to find Heron crouching down next to his section of the wall, Jack nodded to the king in greeting.

"Jack, I need your help. We need more men toward the extreme north end of the wall," explained Heron. "Their last artillery blast took out a good section of it and on the last wave, they got close enough to almost break through. We need more firepower there."

Jack nodded quickly. "We have more marines inbound, but I can't say how long it'll take them to get here. Until then, Greg and I will follow you to that position."

Heron's face turned to worry. "It's considerably dangerous there. Perhaps it might be better to send someone not so important to that post. Just in case."

Jack assumed a steely glint in his eyes. "We fight shoulder to shoulder with our men, Heron. I can't stake my claim as their commander if I won't fight by their side."

Heron nodded and put his hand on Jack's shoulder. "As would any true commander. I'm honored that you fight with us, Jack. Let's move out!"

Together, the three of them made their way along the rampart to the north end of the wall. The journey itself wasn't particularly easy, having to sidestep and jump over the remains of soldiers dead and wounded as well as portions of the wall that had been completely devastated. Finally reaching the point that Heron had described, Jack could see why it was so vulnerable.

The last artillery blast had all but shattered a complete section of the wall about ten feet across. All that remained was broken rubble and the shattered bodies of those men unlucky enough to have been standing there when the blast came. Yet one silver lining to the situation was that there was plenty of cover to hide behind, and so both Jack and Greg picked a position behind some heavy boulders that anchored up with what was left of the Javan marines to their right.

"I never thought I'd see the day where I was able to fight beside Commander Easterbrook," said one of the marines to his right with a toothy smile. Jack grinned and looked at the man, remembering his features from their time on Lishkerra. The man was Sergeant Brandon Michaels, and he had been one of the men in the thick of the fighting when Jack had been captured.

"Just don't let them capture us this time," said Jack with good-natured ribbing. "I don't think I'd make a great sight on a cross."

Brandon gulped visibly. "Neither would I!"

While Jack was still chuckling at the sergeant's reaction, it was Greg whose voice next pierced the morning air. "Boys, here they come! Prepare to fire!"

Jack looked up again to find massed ranks of East Sorellans emerging from the tree line once more. What was considerably more worrying was that they seemed to be taking more cover on their approach to the city, using whatever was in their way to shield themselves from the bullets of the defense. Compared to the first two waves, these men had learned that a full-on attack across an open field was suicide.

"Open it up and let them have it! Keep up your fire, boys! Show them why Javan marines are the toughest sons of bitches in the entire world!" roared Greg as all the NT-12 rifles along the wall opened up in a damning display of firepower and fury. Even so concealed, the front ranks of the attackers paid dearly for their appearance and heavy cries began as lead met flesh.