Fourth Vector Ch. 11

The small group made their way to the nearest quay where the launch boats had been tied up, passing several larger slave trawlers along the way. They were about halfway to the boats when the sounds of loud war drums started to beat across the city. Jack turned to look back, realizing the sound was coming from the slave pens. "Time for us to go! Quickly now!"

Thankfully, nobody rushed to intercept them on the way into the launch boats and out of the harbor although Jack didn't really breathe a sigh of relief until after all of them were back on theDestiny a short time later. Giving the order to go, the two vessels pulled away from the port city of Methusa and started on a course to the southwest until long after the beat of the war drums faded from the air.

"How long do you want to keep this current course for?" asked Abigail once they were all safely back in the bridge and had described the encounter to the division head officers.

Jack pursed his lips. "At least until nightfall. Let's keep away from the coast as much as we can so no one can easily follow us. Tomorrow morning, as long as there's no signs of them along the coast, we'll put ashore and continue along on foot."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay on theDestiny, Jack?" asked Stephanie. "It might be safer, especially if they are going to be looking for all of you now."

Jack shook his head. "It might be safer, yes, but we still may be able to catch up with the buyers before they reach their own territory. We also won't know anything more about which clan's territory we're in without being on land. It will be more dangerous, but I think it's necessary at this point."

"I think it's time we get the men ready then," added Greg. "If we're going back ashore tomorrow morning, we should have more protection with us."

"I fully agree with that. Can you have two platoons readied for tomorrow?"

Greg nodded. "Will do. They might be a little understrength, but it will be a third of our force. About fifty-five men in total."

"That should do it for now," said Jack. "If we find the need for more men, we can always have them meet us from theDestiny."

"What would you like us to do, Jack?" asked Kyle. "Follow along just off shore?"

Jack nodded. "Yes, definitely. Stay away from the coast but just close enough in case we need you. I'll stay in contact with you over the radio and let you know if we need support." Jack then turned to look at Abigail, who was wearing a determined expression on her face. "I take it you're coming with us again?"

She nodded firmly and remained silent otherwise.

"That settles that then," said Jack with a chuckle. "Since this may be a longer trip than just the trip into Methusa, Kyle you're in charge of theDestiny until Abigail and I get back."

"Aye, Jack, we'll take care of her," said Kyle. "Just don't stay away for too long. I might get too comfortable in the command chair."

Jack started to laugh. "Don't gettoo comfortable. I'll be back for it soon enough. Are we all set?"

The rest of the faces in the bridge nodded.

"Good. We'll meet at the stern at seven-thirty in the morning. Let's try and get some rest now. We'll need it in the morning!"

------

The afternoon and evening that followed was completely uneventful, and it was a misty morning that found theDestiny pulled in closer to the Andalucian shore than usual. Jack looked down to check the time, finding it seven-twenty as he watched the marines line up on deck by Greg's orders. Beside him, Vera stood with a confident, but sleepy face as he watched Abigail approach the stern, her pistol attached to the belt along her waist.

"Ready to go back ashore?" Jack asked Vera privately. "You don't have to go again, you know that right? You have nothing to prove to anyone."

Vera smiled at him. "I know, Jack. But you need my help as a guide. I feel like I owe this to Kat."

Jack nodded, finding any further words unnecessary as the order was given to man the launch boats. Every boat they had was used to bring the sixty-person group ashore, their bows pressing into the sandy beaches of Andalucia after a short journey.

One person in particular looked happier than ever. Greg wore a big smile as he hoped out of the launch boat with his NT-12 rifle already searching the nearby surroundings. Jack didn't have to ask why.

"Just like old times, huh?" said Jack with a smirk.

"You're damn right," growled Greg as he waved the rest of the boats in. It was already warm for the time of day, the mist not having followed them once they came ashore. With it bound to be a hot day and knowing the climate in the country, Jack had arranged for all of them to have some covering for their heads to protect from the heat that was likely to greet them. With the sun just starting to rise, it was their best protection from such an environment.

Once fully ashore and once the launch boats had departed to go back to theDestiny, Jack and Greg led the grouping along the sand until they stumbled upon a coastal road that ran parallel to the water.

"This must be that route that the slaver mentioned yesterday," said Jack as soon as his feet were firmly planted on it. He looked on in both directions, seeing no travelers at this time of morning.

"Go south then?" asked Abigail. "We probably still have a ways to go before we reach theNumratha."

"Yes, and we need to keep an eye out for theMuthada clan as well," said Jack. "Larthiss said we would need to cross their territory before getting to theNumratha."

"Are we to assume they're likely to be hostile as well?" asked Greg. "I doubt they'd like a bunch of foreign soldiers trampling through their territory."

Jack nodded. "Take no risks. Spread the men out a bit so we have a warning before anyone gets too close. Don't harass the locals unless they start something first. Have them get word back for any masses of soldiers or any other signs of trouble."

Greg called his platoon leaders over to dispense the messages to the rest of the marines and soon they were marching steadily southwest along the road in a spread-out fashion. Squads of marines hugged the road on both sides a good distance apart, remaining within sight but far enough away to give them a wide range on the landscape in front of them.

"It all kind of looks the same," said Vera from his side, after a few couple hours of traveling along the road. Despite seeing few other people on the route, she wasn't wrong.

"We're definitely not in Sorella anymore," said Jack. "This is a bleak country. No wonder the Andalucians are the way they are."

Vera grimaced. "Still doesn't excuse slavery though."

"I know, I know," said Jack as he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. In a way, Vera was almost becoming like family to him. He found himself treating her much the same way he treated his sister, Jocelyn, back home. She had so clearly integrated herself into his life that it would have felt weird not to. "Hopefully, we don't have much further to go."

"This is nothing like Galicia, you know?" said Vera. "It's rather the total opposite."

"Really? What could I expect to see in Galicia?"

Vera smiled as her eyes drifted off. "Galicia has a little bit of everything but mostly green, rolling hills and large forests with just the right trees for climbing. Stunning valleys and picturesque mountains running down the spine of the main island. Lakes too, so many lakes. Beautiful, clear water in all of them with the temperature always being just right for swimming. It's not hard to see why Galicians prefer the sea to the land."

Jack started to laugh. "You really know how to sell it. I'd like for us to go there someday."

Vera shrugged. "Maybe after Picardy? That is, if we get there after here."

"Maybe," said Jack noncommittally. "Even our best plans seem to go awry at times. Who knows if we'll ever get to that side of the Vector?"

"It might be worth it though. Maybe you can convince the Galician regent to sign an alliance with you?"

"From everything I've heard about the regent, it doesn't sound like they are particularly open to the world right now," said Jack with a sigh. "I have a feeling it might be a mission doomed from the start."

"It was just a thought. Who knows, maybe—"

Jack was interrupted from the conversation by Greg, who had just come jogging back from the land up ahead. "Jack, we've got company up ahead."

"Who is it and how many?" asked Jack.

"A whole lot of people. A couple thousand or more. Lots of them too. Men, women, and children," said Greg. "There's a small oasis that looks to be in the middle of this camp."

Jack started to nod. "Larthiss did say we'd be passing through the territory of theMuthada clan. Perhaps this is it?"

"I'd say so," said Greg. "They have a good portion of warriors too."

"Should we attempt to go around them?" asked Abigail, not far away from Greg.

Vera started to shake her head. "If we do that, they'll take it as disrespect. The clans are highly prideful people and they won't take kindly if we don't offer a greeting to their clan chief as we go by. Especially as foreigners."

Jack turned to look at Greg. "About how many warriors do you think? Rough guess?"

Greg pursed his lips while thinking. "Maybe five hundred in total?"

"Enough for us to need to be careful," said Jack. "That many in number is not something we can easily fight our way out of. Plus, we just might start another war doing so. Pull the men into a tighter formation and tell them to focus on the perimeter. They may try to provoke us as well so they'll need to be on their guard."

"I'll get word out immediately," said Greg as he soon dashed away.

"Perhaps they've seen the buyers come through," said Jack to Vera. "This could work out better than we thought. We know the Andalucian clans are always warring against each other, right? Maybe if they are neighbors to theNumratha, they might be rivals and more willing to tell us information on the buyers."

"It's a possibility," said Vera quietly. "But I highly doubt they would offer to help you over their own countrymen. Andalucian politics are dirty, but it's notthat dirty. There are certain rules still."

"I guess we'll find out shortly," said Jack as he nodded in front of them. They had just ascended to the top of a low-lying hill which meant the Andalucian clan camp finally appeared in front of them. It was a unique sight for Jack, having seen nothing like it yet in his travels, even compared to the slave city of Methusa.

For one, this camp seemed a lot more temporary. There were just about no permanent buildings in the entire camp, with the major dwellings being made up of flimsy and patched tents. The majority of those tents were arrayed around the camp in a circle, completely surrounding a small grove of trees where they could find the oasis that Greg described. While they were still close to the ocean, that oasis would have been the only source of fresh water nearby, which didn't make it hard to see why they chose to camp there.

In the center of the entire camp stood a great, large tent of much better quality than the ones surrounding it. It dominated the rest of the camp with what looked to be multiple partitions inside for different rooms as compared to the simpler one-roomed tents around it.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the clan chief is in that tent," said Abigail, echoing Jack's thoughts.

"I bet you're right," said Jack. "Come on, let's go down there. There's no reason we can't greet this clan chief and find out if he can be useful to our purposes."

The Javan group descended down the hill toward the rest of the camp as the marines pulled in tight around them on all sides. While most of the clan seemed to scurry about on their own tasks within the camp, there was a set perimeter that was maintained at all time by the clan warriors. Just about all of them were armed with bows, carefully strung across their backs and small swords belted at their waists.

"Don't the Andalucians have firearms?" Jack asked Vera as the group approached a set of warriors. "All I've seen are bows and swords with them so far."

"They hardly need them," whispered Vera. "Those bows are small and deadly accurate. Just about all the warriors start training with them from the time they're young boys. The range is great enough that they really don't need much in the way of firearms, and their island is mostly desert wastelands so no one really wants to conquer them anyway. For that reason, the bows have persisted as their main fighting weapon."

"Interesting. By the way, what are we supposed to do or say when we get to the clan chief?" he asked. "Is there any special greeting or customs we should uphold?"

"When I was captured, most travelers would offer a prayer of good fortune to the clan chief. If you stick with that message, it should resonate."

"A prayer of good fortune. What the hell is that?"

Vera shrugged. "I've never seen it actually given so who knows?"

"I guess we'll find out," said Jack as he was waved off by the men in front of them.

"Who are you? State your name and purpose," called out the closest warrior as soon as the distance was closed.

Jack stepped forward, with Greg and Abigail following directly behind him. "My name is Commander Jack Easterbrook of the Javan Empire. I wish to offer a prayer of good fortune to your clan chief."

The warrior eyed Jack and his group warily. "Where the hell is Java? And do you always travel so armed?"

"Java is one of the eastern nations," said Jack. "And yes, for our protection. However, we are peaceful toward those that are peaceful to us."

The two men began to whisper something between them. Jack couldn't make out what they were saying, and it sounded like they were using their own language to communicate, making it impossible to translate. Finally, the first man turned back toward them.

"We can't allow you in to see the clan chief with so much weaponry. You will be allowed to send in no more than five people to see the chief, without those arms," said the warrior while gesturing to their rifles.

Jack nodded. "That's fine. The four of us will go in," he said while gesturing to himself, Greg, Abigail, and Vera. "The rest of my soldiers will wait outside the camp."

The soldier pursed his lips and nodded, probably not expecting to find Jack so agreeable to his terms. While they waited for the soldiers to beckon them forward, Greg went back to talk to the marines, making sure they understood what was expected from them while they met with the clan chief.

"Are they clear on the orders?" asked Jack as soon as Greg returned.

"Perfectly. I told them I'd leave my radio on so they could monitor the meeting. If they hear a special code word from me, they'll attack."

"What's the code word?"

Greg smirked. "Intercourse."

Jack started to laugh. "You'll never grow up."

"I wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I did."

A few moments later, the soldiers returned and gestured for the four of them to follow. Jack and his small group made their way into camp, passing by a small billet of warriors before entering deeper into the small tent city. Once inside, ordinary Andalucians could be seen going about their day, however it was highly noticeable that many of them wore a simple metal clasp around their neck.

"That's the mark of the slave," whispered Vera as her hand absentmindedly went to her throat. "It's the universal symbol here in Andalucia of servitude. Everyone that you see with it serves in some way."

It seemed that a good portion, possibly even a quarter of the people in the camp, had the chain around their neck in some fashion. They could all be seen going about their daily tasks as Jack was led to the big tent in the center of the camp. Once inside, he found the temperature a lot cooler than outside and many of the Andalucians now barring a good portion of their bodies without fear of the sun or heat.

"Wait here," said the soldier to Jack. "Bathal will be here to see you shortly."

Jack started to nod. "Who is Bathal? Is he the clan chief?"

The soldier smirked. "Bathal is the cousin of the clan chief. No one gets in to see Clan Chief Adulis without Bathal having a say so first."

"That'll be fine," said Jack. "Thank you for your assistance."

The warriors disappeared outside the tent as the four of them waited in a larger partition of dwelling. Around them, other Andalucian men walked about in the middle of their own tasks, many of them never even sparing a second look at Jack and his group.

"This place gives me an uneasy feeling," said Vera, soon wearing a nervous expression on her face. "It reminds me of being here before."

Jack nodded sympathetically. "We won't stay long. Let's hope this prayer of good fortune goes by quickly enough that we can get moving again. Or perhaps this Adulis will choose to help us."

Vera shook her head and walked to one side of the tent, still looking uneasy. With a silent look to Greg, the marine followed in her footsteps, soon offering idle conversation in an attempt to distract her from the current surroundings. Jack couldn't dwell on it long before Abigail called him to the opposite side of the tent.

"Jack, look over here," she said while waving him toward her. "What do you think this room is for?"

She haphazardly pulled back a flap to look into another partition, finding a simple desk inside that was far from being unoccupied. In fact, Jack met eyes with another man sitting at the desk, a dark-haired man wearing a dark-gray robe and trousers. The man seemed to be somewhat surprised by the disturbance but soon his face returned to quiet curiosity.

"Who are you?" he asked in a deep, gravelly voice.

"We didn't mean to disturb you," said Jack while sticking his head through the rest of the tent. "We didn't realize someone else was in here."

The man looked at both him and Abigail from head to toe. "You're not Andalucians, are you?"

Jack shook his head. "We're Javans from the eastern parts of the world."

"Javans?" asked the man. "Never heard of it," he said with a simple shake of the head.

Jack wasn't surprised. That seemed to be the default answer in this part of the world. Before he could respond, the man spoke up again.

"What are you doing so far from home?"

"We're on a mission of our own. Right now, we're trying to track down a slave that may have been sold here by mistake."

The man started to chuckle. "Good luck with that. Andalucia is full of slaves and they only seem to multiply. Finding a specific slave amongst the entire bunch is a difficult task."

"I'll know her when I see her," said Jack.

"Ah, a lady friend of yours, I take it? A lover perhaps?"

Jack pursed his lips. "You can say that."

"Well, I wish you luck then, friend. This country has a habit of turning hope into shit so I hope you find her sooner rather than later."

"By the sounds of it, you're not from here either?" asked Jack.

He shook his head with a small laugh. "Not even close," he said while moving to stand up from the desk. He walked around the side to offer his hand to Jack. "My name is Berimund. I'm a special envoy for Lord Regaulfus Avila of the Swabian Empire."

Berimund clasped hands with Jack as he heard the breath catch in Abigail's throat. The moment became a little more tense with the first sight of a potential enemy. Before Jack could respond, Berimund turned to face Abigail. "And who might you be?"

Abigail recovered quickly enough. "Lt. Commander Abigail Wainwright of the Javan Empire," she said, shaking his hand quickly before disengaging.

"A pleasure to meet you both," said Berimund, his eyes lingering on Abigail. "We don't see many foreigners in this part of the world. While I haven't the slightest idea where Java is, it is good to see someone besides the sweaty, ugly Andalucians for once."