Fourth Vector Ch. 12

"It's possible, I suppose," said Reynolds. "But ultimately, I don't think that to be the case. They've arrived out here weeks ago, and they've been hanging around Quiller's Cove. Something about this base is drawing them here, making them stalk it. I think they'll stay around these waters quite possibly."

"Even if they were heading west?"

Reynolds nodded. "They could have just been trying to get out of dodge before circling back. Let's be honest as well—you and your former commander are the only easterners to have ever entered the Vector and lived to tell about it. I'm sure the stigma of the Vector will prevent them from going into it."

"But what if they do? Go into it that is," pressed Luke.

Reynolds locked his eyes on him. "Why are you so interested in it, Luke?"

"I'm hoping that we'll eventually get to go back to our mission with Commander Easterbrook," said Luke. "We were making very real progress in the Vector, and with Jack only having theDestiny and theTiger, he's not in the best shape. Perhaps if we can go join him—"

"Luke, that's not going to happen," interrupted Reynolds while putting his hand flat on the table. "I understand you want to get back to your mission but we have no proof the Occitanians are going into the Vector. The bigger threat is Quiller's Cove so it's here that you'll stay."

Luke opened his mouth to fight further but a quick kick to the back of his legs from Kim prevented him from speaking any further. Instead he lowered his head, nodding slowly without offering anything else.

Reynolds reached out to rest his hand on Luke's shoulder. "Give it time, Luke. You're needed here right now. I'm sure those Occitanians will try to get up to something soon enough. After all, they still have another battleship with that fleet, as well as three other cruisers. It's a force that's still more than a match for ours. I think Jack Easterbrook can take care of himself in the Vector. We'll alert him about the battle surely, but I don't think he has to watch out for Occitanians just yet."

"Aye, sir," said Luke quietly, while choosing not to argue. Even though he wanted to, he knew it would do no good.

"Good," said a more relaxed Reynolds, thinking the matter settled. "Now, why don't you go get some rest? We'll spend a few days in port while theHorton gets its repairs and then we'll start our sorties again. Let your crew get rested up and have them ready to go in three days' time. Task Force 49 will need you in command of theValiant when the time comes."

Luke and Kim stood from the table, each offering a crisp salute to the admiral and the commodore before turning for the door. There was silence between them until they got to the street, at which point, Luke opened up with his pent-up emotion.

"They're making a mistake! The entire task force saw them go off in the direction of the Vector. There's nothing for the Occies to attack in Quiller's Cove, especially now that we've taken away their overwhelming advantage! It's not right, Kim."

"What else can we do, Luke? It's not like we can disobey a direct order."

"I don't know," he muttered quietly before kicking a loose stone across the street as they headed toward the harbor. "I just get the feeling that Jack needs us. I hate being so far away that I feel like we can't be of any help."

"In due time, Luke. Perhaps once Reynolds sees the threat to Quiller's Cove dissipated with the battle, he'll change his mind."

"That might be a week from now or longer," said Luke. "What if Jack doesn't have that kind of time?"

"I'm sure he'll be all right," said Kim. "Just like we will be too. Besides, if he has a need, he'll put out a dispatch for it."

They reached the inner harbor and walked over to the quay where theValiant was tied up. "I sure hope you're right, Kim. It still makes me uneasy though."

--------

"You're awfully quiet tonight, Lucas. What's on your mind?"

Commodore Lucas shook his head quickly as he fiddled around with his cup of water on the table. It was still just him and Admiral Reynolds in the room, despite Luke Ravencross having left a few minutes earlier. Reynolds had been quiet himself, going over a series of reports before he had finally looked up to ask the question.

"I've learned a long time ago to never answer that question head-on," Lucas said with a small smile. "Most times you don't want the real answer."

Reynolds tilted his head back and laughed. "Just what I would expect someone like you to say. I take it Bancroft is still thoroughly up your ass at all times?"

"So far up there that I can taste him sometimes," muttered Lucas.

"And yet you're still an officer so he must see something in you regardless."

"It would appear that way!"

"So tell me again, what's on your mind?"

Lucas let out a heavy sigh. "Commander Ravencross did bring up a few good points. Most likely the threat to Quiller's Cove is over. Why not let the man rejoin his former commander?"

Reynolds blinked in confusion. "Because that's not my orders. My orders are to secure this base and keep it safe. I don't care if that Occitanian fleet goes all the way back to the piss-soaked streets of Montauban, I'm keeping the task force here just like Bancroft ordered."

"I understand that, and I'm thankful for the protection but Jack Easterbrook—"

"—can take care of himself," finished Reynolds. "I'm not sure why all of you are so up that man's ass. I'm sure it goes back to Bancroft in some way, but I'm the one in charge out here. I'll decide where the ships go, Lucas."

"I realize that, Admiral," said Lucas while putting his hands up. "I'm just trying to think about what's best for Java."

Reynolds started to sneer. "And you agree that what's best for Java is letting our best ships linger in unknown territory trying to make soldiers out of a bunch of savages? You really think that grand plan will bear fruit?"

"It's not my place to judge the plans of our leadership," said Lucas stiffly. "Only to follow orders."

"That we can agree upon at least," said Reynolds with a tone of finality. "So put it out of your mind and follow orders. The ships stay here. Let Jack Easterbrook fend for himself."

--------

"On my order, we'll start the attack. Is everyone clear?"

The assembled marines on the western slope all nodded in confirmation as Jack crouched behind the nearest rock. It was early still, no more then ten o'clock, and after a brief war council, it had been decided to attempt to squeeze theMuthada between the two separated Javan forces and regain some of the initiative in this battle.

Jack then turned to Greg. "Are Captain Bucknell and his men ready?"

"Bucknell, what's your status?" asked Greg into the command radio.

The response came back instantly. "Ready to roll, sir."

Jack nodded. "All right. Stay low to the ground, and press the warriors when found. Leave the innocents to themselves unless they prove hostile. If hostile, treat them like the warriors. Don't do anything stupid, and damnit make sure you all come back alive."

The faces of about twenty-five marines all nodded, the majority of them filled with a divine confidence at finally switching over to the attack. It was an excellent force that Jack had at his back, and one that he hoped could spring this ambush with as little casualties as possible.

Looking up over the rock to what he could see of the nearbyMuthada camp revealed a light perimeter of defensive guards but nowhere near the same quality or quantity of men as when they first met the clan. A good portion of their warriors were dead, and they had most likely assumed that the Javans wouldn't dare switch to the attack.

They would soon find out how wrong they were.

"Ready . . . now!" yelled Jack before popping up from his rock and firing a few bursts from his NT-12. All around the pass, the attacking marines emerged from their hiding places at the bottom of the slopes as Greg radioed the command back to Captain Bucknell. Their position was a good distance from theMuthada camp, a few hundred yards still, but it was the closest spot they were able to assemble without drawing attention from the clan.

The attacking position had been set up as a semi-circle that now rushed forward down the hill, gaining a boost of momentum as their quick pace easily covered the distance between them and theMuthada. Stopping every few moments to get a few accurate bursts off from his rifle, Jack largely led the attack as the Andalucians responded with uncertainty, many of them shocked to find themselves suddenly on the defense. Off to this right, Jack could just barely make out the quick marching reinforcements coming down from their ridge, the sounds of their own firefight filling the air as they looked to clear theMuthada posted in front of them.

Based upon the reactions of the clan, surprise had been total. They wore horrified expressions as they struggled to pull their bows into firing position, revealing more about their unpreparedness than their lack of accuracy.

"Press forward, men! Avenge your comrades!" roared Greg as they made it to the perimeter of the camp. The small tent city of theMuthada was a scene of dire confusion as the remaining warriors rushed out of their tents, many of them scarcely getting off one shot of their bow before being cut down. The front of the camp was a scene of total carnage as warriors were downed while women and children went running for the safety of the rear.

"Keep pushing!" yelled Jack. "Don't let them get away!"

The initial confusion of the attack slowly melted away as they reached deeper into the tents of the clan. The slow clearing of the tents allowed theMuthada to mount some kind of defense, pulling back to a hastily-created defensive line not far from the clan chief's tent in the center of the camp. At that spot, theMuthada were able to assemble a hodgepodge of crates, containers, and even a few bodies to offer a shield from the bullets.

For the first time since the attack started, Jack found himself taking cover. He hit the dirt with a careful dive, soon hearing the sound of another marine land nearby and beginning to fire at the defensive position.

The air around them started to get thick with arrows. What had been inaccurate and wild shots just minutes ago now turned more concentrated, and the marines largely found themselves pushed into a line as they attempted to crack theMuthada's defensive position.

"We're getting bogged down, sir!" said the marine next to him in the middle of several bursts.

"Keep up your firing. Watch your flanks in case those bastards try to get around us," said Jack in return, carefully firing his next shot which hit the next warrior right in the shoulder, taking him down instantly.

Sure enough, a small force ofMuthada emerged around the side of their left flank to begin firing against the exposed line, quickly killing one marine before his comrades sought to take their revenge. They managed to push back the flanking force but only just barely before another one took its place. On the right flank, a similar situation was enveloping, and the marines found themselves too few in number to truly regain the advantage.

"We might need to pull back a little," yelled Greg who was only a few feet away. "If those bastards get behind us, we're going to be in trouble!"

"Fuck!" yelled Jack, watching the attack start to turn into a bloodbath. He saw another marine take an arrow straight to the face, the gruesome sight making him turn away to shield his eyes. Just when he was about to give the order to pull back, they heard a more steady concentration of fire directly behind them.

"Bucknell, it's good to see you, you bastard," said Greg with a grin as he looked in that direction. Jack hazarded a look back to find the determined face of the other marine captain as several more squads soon joined them to beef up their attacking line.

"Sorry for the delay!" said Bucknell with a grin. "We got a little tied up taking out theMuthada back on that ridge!" Bucknell's rifle got off several more shots, leading two more clan warriors to hit the dirt.

"Any trouble back there, Captain?" asked Jack. "Did you and the men get through all right?"

"Like a hot knife through butter, sir!" said Bucknell with a chuckle. I split the force as soon as we were through, and we noticed you guys were meeting more resistance. I sent a full platoon around their flank!"

Bucknell pointed in the direction of the new attack. Jack was pleased to see theMuthada's attempted flanking force decimated as the coordination of close to forty marines removed all resistance from their path. Just like that, the situation of the battle changed once again, the Javans finding the initiative pulled back in their favor.

"Their defensive line is crumbling," yelled out Jack. "Let's push forward again, marines!"

The majority of them sprang up from the dirt as the last of theMuthada retreated behind the hastily-created line and found themselves pushed back to the clan chief's tent once again. The marines followed, downing the now exposed warriors more easily as the last of the resistance centered around the tent.

Right in front of the entrance, Jack spotted a large crate that held several moreMuthada, one of them wearing more intricate headgear than the rest of them. He seemed to be coordinating the defense, and despite having a bow in hand, he was barely using it.

Greg must have seen him too as he came to a stop next to Jack, taking shelter against the ground as they picked off warriors. "Who you think that fancy asshole is? The one with the big hat?"

"I bet you that's the clan chief. Or maybe someone in his entourage," said Jack. "He doesn't seem too acclimated to the bow!"

"I doubt the chief has to resort to fighting too often!" said Greg as they rained fire down on the position.

Their talking had the effect of drawing the attention of theMuthada near the front of the tent. Jack had to whip his head down quickly to avoid several arrows that flew just over top of him in several near misses.

"Give me some covering fire," said Jack to Greg. "I'm going to take out that small group right now before one of those arrows finds its mark!"

"You got it!" Greg rolled out and opened up with full automatic fire, enabling Jack to roll in the opposite direction. Finding the attention of theMuthada focused on either dealing with Greg or avoiding fire, Jack was able to pick them off one by one until he came to the fancy headgear warrior himself. The man was old enough to realize his predicament as Jack's rifle soon focused on him. He managed to yell out with a horrified expression right as Jack's finger pulled the trigger, sending a small burst directly into his chest.

He crumbled against the ground almost instantly, his hand clutching at the bloody wound in his chest, dying almost immediately.

In that moment, Jack could have expected the attack to continue until theMuthada had all run away. Instead, something strange happened. All of the standingMuthada turned their attention to the man who had just fallen. Seeing that he was now truly dead, all of them dropped their weapons while turning to face Jack, recognizing him as the man who had killed their leader. Then, as one body, they dropped to their knees, placing their heads against the ground in a prostrate position.

"What in the world," muttered Greg from his side as they watched them all cease fighting. Several of the marines kept up the attack, causing several of the proneMuthada to take bullets in their defenseless positions.

"Cease-fire!" yelled out Jack while throwing his arms up in the air to get the attention of all the marines. An eerie calm descended on the camp as all signs of battle ended just as suddenly as they had started. Around them, tents had either been torn down or riddled with gunfire. As the sounds of gunfire ended, heads began to poke out of the enclosures as women and young children looked on to determine the curious nature of the event unfolding around them.

Greg walked slowly to one of the prostateMuthada, standing above him as if to inspect if he intended to fight any further. When nothing happened, that major looked back to Jack and shrugged.

"This is the strangest thing I've ever seen," said Jack before he too approached Greg. He crouched to ground close to the nearestMuthada. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you all stopped fighting?"

The warrior was a mid-thirties aged man with dark, coarse hair and a well-trimmed goatee. He looked up to Jack with visible confusion. "We are yours to serve now, clan chief. You honor us by your presence."

"Clan chief?" asked Jack while shaking his head slightly. "I'm Javan. We're the ones that were just attacking you."

The warrior nodded but then pointed over to the clan chief's tent. "Yes, but aren't you the one that killed that man over there? The one with the ornate robes and headgear?"

Jack looked back over to where that man laid against the ground, still as dead as they come. "Yes, I shot him."

The warrior smirked. "That was our clan chief, Adulis. Since he is now dead, you're the new clan chief of theMuthada."

"Stand up for me, man," said Jack. In an instant, the prostate warrior was on his feet, looking at Jack with a combination of respect and deference. Around them, the other warriors watched the scene with a degree of trepidation.

"This doesn't make the slightest degree of sense," argued Jack. "Why am I your new clan chief? Just because I took out the old one?"

The warrior nodded like it was the most obvious explanation. "Of course, clan chief. That is our custom. Whoever takes out the old chief is now the new chief. That is the law of the Andalucian clans going back generations all the way to the Great Birth."

"But I'm not of your people. I'm a foreigner to your lands," said Jack. "Wouldn't you need to be ruled by your own people."

The warrior shook his head. "You are not the first foreigner to rule an Andalucian clan. We've had Picard clan chiefs, Nax clan chiefs, Swabian clan chiefs, and even a high clan king from Angarsk several centuries ago. Andalucians don't care about something as crass as bloodline. We only care about those that are strong enough to seize power. You are our new clan chief. Yet, I'm afraid we don't even know your name."

Jack stammered in his response. "My name is Jack Easterbrook, from the country of Java."

The warrior grinned. "I've never heard of Java before. You'll be the first Javan head of this clan. But the warriors are yours to command. Clan chiefs are in charge of every facet of Andalucian life, only answerable to the high clan king. We will fight for you, die for you, and live only for you. Our slaves are yours to command, and our women are yours to bed. Such is your privilege as our leader and as one strong enough to kill Adulis."

Jack pieced together something he thought of from several days ago. "If Adulis is now dead, why not Bathal to take his place? I met that man when I first came to your camp and knew him to be second-in-command. Why not make him clan chief?"

The warrior blinked at him. "Bathal died in our first assault on your position. Even if he were still alive, that is not our custom. We are here now to serve you, clan chief. Our bows are yours to command."

Around Jack, almost all the warriors still left alive had all gathered in a loose ring around them. Raising from their feet to join the crowd around their new clan king, Jack watched with a sense of oddity as they so easily switched fealty to someone who had attacked them just moments earlier. It was tough to wrap his head around the thought, and he could find no parallels to anything he'd seen before.