Fourth Vector Ch. 30

Greg was troubled.

It was a feeling that was all too common those days, the result of being cast into a role that he didn't seek or want. Greg had just come from a meeting with King Aedan who was once more demanding action against Viceroy Ferris and his high-handed attitude toward the Picards. Greg had seen firsthand what that had been like, and he was surprised that Aedan hadn't tried to forcibly remove the viceroy on his own after such poor treatment.

"You need to get it done one way or another, Greg," warned Aedan. "I can't fight the Swabians while your people hold a dagger to my back. This needs to end."

Greg didn't disagree with him. The viceroy was a problem without any easy solution though. Jack had sacrificed his standing within the empire in order to deal with the Sorellan viceroy, and Greg knew a similar fate awaited him if he took the same action. Doing so would likely sacrifice his career within Java, and it could mean he could never return to his home country—a daunting prospect for anyone.

It was made even more harrowing because Greg knew that his friends here didn't all have to share the same fate. With Jack, Vera, Kat, and even Abigail having destinies that could mean a prolonged or permanent stay in the West, not being able to go to Java wasn't the same sentence as it was for him.

The other part that troubled him was trying to defend these actions on behalf of the empire. The emperor's colonial policy was borne in idiocy, the result of someone who knew nothing of this half of the world nor cared for their people. Somewhere along the way, this mission had forged a third party between the Javans and the rest of the peoples of the Vector—Jack and his allies. Was it a party worthy of giving his allegiance to?

Could Greg really turn his back on his homeland and follow Jack and Vera to Galicia? Forever?

Those were the questions that troubled him as he arrived at his quarters that night. It was long into the night, and Vera was already in bed by the time he closed the door. Greg tried to kick his boots off quietly but his simple movements still attracted her attention. He heard the rustling of the sheets and soon saw her rubbing her eyes as she looked in his direction.

"There you are," she said softly while holding in a yawn. "I didn't know when you'd be coming back and I couldn't stay up any longer."

"It's okay, go back to sleep," said Greg as he turned off the light and slipped into the covers. He pulled Vera against him but it soon became apparent that sleep would be elusive. Vera's eyes remained open as well.

"What took up so much time?" she asked quietly.

"Just more of Aedan and his pressure," replied Greg. "The usual at this point."

She made a soft noise against his chest. "The viceroy I take it?"

"I don't know what to do about that man," said Greg. "After watching him interact with Aedan, I'm tempted to arrest him myself. The man is an arrogant menace, and I have to give the king credit for maintaining his patience so far but I don't believe that patience is going to last much longer. How could it? Ferris is an asshole."

"He certainly seems to have an attitude about him," added Vera. "I don't know how they can be so cruel with people they hope are going to help them."

"It's shortsighted," said Greg. "Arrogance and shortsightedness. The hubris of a decaying empire. It's times like these that really make me question everything I've fought for. Is this what I want to remember when I'm old? That I killed so that men like Ferris could run rampant over places like Picardy? If that was the case, I might just hang it up right now."

"I don't think anyone would blame you," said Vera softly. She craned her head to look at him. "But it doesn't have to be that way."

"I know, Vera, I know," he interrupted. He stopped for a moment when he saw the pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. This is wearing on me greatly right now. I feel torn between two sides when all I want to do is sink into obscurity."

Vera nodded her head but didn't reply. Greg knew the reason why and he was silently thankful she didn't express it. It was always obvious which side Vera was going to choose. She was Galician and part of the royal family. She would go with Jack regardless of the outcome or the situation with the Javan forces inside the West. She'd even expressed a desire to go with Jack even if it meant that Greg might not, a conversation that they hadn't discussed in detail. Greg had to wonder what she would do if he decided to remain loyal to Java. Would she then feel the tear that he did?

"This isn't easy for me," said Greg finally. "And I feel like events are happening in quick succession right now."

She nodded against his chest. "The world is getting darker."

He didn't need to ask her what she meant. Word had been coming in all week. Countries all along the West had reported Swabian landings from Sorella and Andalucia to Apulia in the west. The long-awaited wider war was now upon them all, and the worst part of all of it was that the Swabians seemed unstoppable.

Aedan had informed them that two of the three main islands of Apulia had already fallen. Andalucia was being overrun and a small force was attacking the capital city of Sorella at the current moment. Greg knew that Heron and his people wouldn't be able to withstand the full fury of the Swabians, especially if Picardy was having such a hard time doing so.

Right now, they needed Jack and this alliance more than anything. Yet he was the one person that couldn't be found.

His rescue was looking less likely by the day too. When news came in about the Swabian attacks across the entire West, the Galician rescue plan was abruptly shelved for the time being. With Swabian forces swarming along the entire stretch all the way to Galicia, there wasn't a chance of the task force slipping through unnoticed.

Greg hated to admit it but Jack was on his own for now, something that shadowed the hearts of all of them.

After many minutes of silence, Vera finally turned her head to look at him directly. "I won't fault you for whichever decision you make. I know we haven't really discussed it since that day, but I know you're torn between two loyalties. My position would be just as torn if you decided not to act against your own people."

Greg gave her a serious look. "Would you stay with me? If I choose Java over Jack? Or would that be the end of us?"

A tear slipped down her cheek. "Please don't make me answer that, Greg."

"I need to know."

She wiped her tear. "I don't know if I can answer that."

Greg felt the lump in his throat begin to grow. "I think you can see the same trouble that I face."

She hugged him tighter. "Even still, I would not blame you. You're a good man, an honorable one. Only your heart can tell you where to go."

"And if my heart tells me not to let you out of my sight? Then what?"

Vera gave him a sad smile. "It's the same thing my heart tells me about you. But this is bigger than just us. I think it was always going to come down to this. And I think someone is bound to be unhappy no matter what decision is made."

Greg took a deep breath. Even though he knew that Vera shouldn't factor into a decision as large as this one, she still did. He was going to lose something either way—Vera or Java. Which one couldn't he live without?

It was a question still on his mind as sleep took him.

*****

The next morning didn't find Greg in any better position. Vera was still sleeping when he managed to get out of bed. He quickly dressed and made his way out of the palace. The sun was only beginning to show a glimmer of daylight when he made it to the southern part of the city where the army's main defenses were.

Ever since the last battle, the siege of Daban had been relieved. Most of the allied army was now positioned along the south side of the city, utilizing whichever defenses they could opposite of the Swabian trenches. There was a small portion of their forces that extended perpendicular from the main line, and it ran all the way toward the sea on the other side of the city. It was where nearly thirty percent of the Swabian army had been cut off from the last battle, and maintaining that line was a priority to prevent total encirclement of the city once again.

Greg found Dustin at his headquarters not far from the bend in the line where it was most vulnerable. He put his best men there for that reason, which more often than not, consisted of the Tyrolean marines rather than their Javan counterparts. This positioning served an additional purpose as well. It separated the two peoples and helped to prevent infighting, something that could destroy their strategic capabilities.

It had also been Dustin's idea, and since he had that particular honor, he maintained the headquarters at the center of the line.

"Anything to report this morning?" asked Greg as he saw Dustin sitting behind a desk that had seen better days.

"I had to break up a fight today between two men who had taken a liking to the same Picard girl," noted Dustin right from the start. "I can see why. Hell's bells, she's an attractive one with nice big tits and a firm ass."

Greg chuckled. "I meant anything substantive to report."

"I was getting there!" said Dustin with a grin. "Anyway, the two men fighting were both Javan. Ever since we split the forces, the infighting between the two groups has been down greatly."

"Well, there's good news at least," said Greg as he looked out on the nearby position. "One less thing to worry about right now."

"You know how that saying goes though," said Dustin. "As soon as you close one door, another one opens. How's it been fending off the Picards?"

Dustin knew all about the situation with Aedan and the viceroy. As the second-in-command, Greg thought it best to keep him well-informed just in case something happened to him. Specifically, Greg was thinking about the outcome if he had to take drastic action and it worked against him. At least he could go knowing that the marines were in Dustin's capable hands.

"Exhausting," replied Greg with a subtle shake of his head. "Aedan has about had it with the viceroy. I can't say I blame him either. The man is an arrogant tool."

Dustin started to chuckle. "What I wouldn't give to bash the head in on that pompous little shit. He's everything that I hate about Javans rolled into one man."

"He doesn't make it easy to work with him, that's for sure," agreed Greg. "But then again, he's the one on our side."

"Funny, I thought the Picards were on our side too," said Dustin.

"They both are, but that's what makes this so challenging, Dustin. I find myself juggling two loyalties and they seem to be going against each other."

Dustin snorted. "I hate to tell you this but welcome to my world. You can see why we've had half the trouble that we have with the other Tyrol boys. Dual loyalties don't make for happy men."

"Isn't that the truth," replied Greg. "I can see what you've all been through."

"If it helps, I think you might have it tougher than we did," said Dustin. "The war is all the way back in Tyrol. All I have from it is the bits and pieces we get from dispatches so there's a degree of separation for me. I can't see it or experience it or talk to people that are there to know what it's like so we're rather removed from the conflict. On the other hand, every marine is a brother here. There isn't a man in the force that I wouldn't take a bullet for right here and now."

"How does that make it easier?" asked Greg.

"Because right now, you have both sides putting pressure on you. The viceroy is here and the army is here. You don't have the luxury of having an ocean to separate you, which I would imagine would make my choices all the more difficult," said Dustin.

"So what you're saying is I'm screwed," said Greg with a short laugh.

"Basically, but I wanted you to be the one to say it," said Dustin.

The two men shared a laugh. It was one borne out of frustration and brotherhood but as the noise died down, Dustin was the one to start speaking again.

"Do you ever wonder if we're fighting on the wrong side?" he asked.

Greg blinked several times before he responded. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean by fighting for Java. Hear me out on this one before you jump down my throat. We have here an imperial power that's willingly trying to colonize independent and free people on this side of the world," said Dustin as he gestured to his map of the Vector. "We have an emperor who would sooner cut your throat than to permit you any freedom of thought or action, especially when it contrasted with his own. We have our own country which is fighting a global war against two other powers for no other reason than to see who will be the strongest. Meanwhile, free people like the Picards and the Tyroleans suffer the consequences of such attachments."

"I thought you said you'd picked our side," said Greg. "After a speech like that, it really doesn't sound that way."

Dustin shrugged. "I will go where you go, Greg. The men as well. Everyone in this force respects you as a leader, especially enough that your word will be good enough for us. I know the struggle that's in your heart right now because it's the same struggle that's in mine. All I have to say is that . . . there might be another way."

"That other way would mean we'd never see our homes again. You'd never see Tyrol again either," said Greg.

"That's if we lose," said Dustin. "Only if we lose in the end."

"The resources of the Javan Empire are vast. It's not lightly that we could turn our backs on the empire," warned Greg.

"What's the alternative, Greg? Listen, I'm not saying we need to become rebels today. But I'm saying there's something deeply rotten with the Javan Empire. Something that is incompatible with the values that we hold dear. Perhaps that should tell us all we need to know? Perhaps we should start right here and now by making the best decision for the situation at hand and not just playing the hand the Empire wants us to play."

There was a lot of wisdom in those words, so much so that Greg didn't have an immediate answer. When forced with something that was clearly wrong, why was it his duty to obey without question? Wouldn't that eventually lead to tyranny? Were they there already? If so, was it too late to turn the situation around?

Or was he fooling himself in trying to justify the decision that he was desperately trying to avoid?

The last question was on his mind when a lieutenant showed up at the headquarters bearing two dispatches.

"Lt. Colonel Vaughn," said the lieutenant with a crisp salute. "These two dispatches are for you."

Greg took them out of his hand and read the first one quickly. He couldn't help but scoff as he finished it.

"Anything good?" asked Dustin. "Or more of the same shit?"

"More of the same shit," replied Greg. "This one is from Barnabas. He's setting a departure date for the entire force of two days out. He wants all the marines to load back on the ships and then Task Force 21 will be moving out of Picardy."

Dustin's eyes went wide. "Where the hell are we going to go? The war is here!"

"Sorella," said Greg with a disgusted look. "Apparently, Barnabas thinks they weren't punished enough when Jack was just there. He wants blood and punishment and this is his chance."

"He'll have to get in line," said Dustin. "There might not be anything left of the island once the Swabians are through with it."

"That man couldn't lead his way through a classroom let alone a war," remarked Greg as he crumbled the dispatch. "Aedan's going to love that one. We can kiss the alliance goodbye if we pull out. The entire situation will crumble without us. All for nothing."

"What's the second one say?" asked Dustin.

Greg skimmed it quickly and then groaned out loud. "More demands from Viceroy Ferris. The Picards aren't cooperating and are refusing to load up the supply ships. He thinks a warning shot will make them more docile."

"Are we surrounded by fucking idiots?" asked Dustin incredulously.

"It would appear that way," replied Greg.

"Too bad Jack isn't here. I'd love to see him rip those two to shreds," said Dustin. "Then we could get back to what matters."

It was such a simple statement but it was profound for Greg in many ways.Get back to what really matters. Could it really be that easy?

"I think you just made my decision for me," said Greg after a moment of silence. "I think I know what I'm going to do."

Dustin grinned. "Want to talk that one over before you do it?"

Greg shook his head. "Trust me on this one. I'm going to go with my gut feeling."

"Well, at least I know this one has been thought through," said Dustin with a chuckle.

"Don't worry about that," said Greg. "But I might need to borrow a couple marines."

Dustin shrugged. "They're yours."

"Good," said Greg. "Then let's get this over with."

*****

The battle for the Sorellan capital city moved more swiftly than any of the defenders could have imagined.

From the moment the first Swabian launch boats descended on the city, the cannons and then the small arms went off, all in a desperate attempt to save the only home they ever knew. Muskets were paired with discarded Javan NT-12s, making an erratic firing line from the very beginning. If the Sorellans just had to contend with the invading Swabian soldiers, it might have been a fairer fight.

However, the enemy's naval artillery proved to be deadly. The two fortifications that ringed the harbor were completely decimated before the first Swabians set foot on Sorellan soil. One blast knocked Heron off his feet, and he was propelled back into a stone wall, almost losing consciousness for a brief moment. It was only the careful aid of his soldiers that got him away from harm as the harbor was overrun by the Swabians.

As the Sorellan army executed a fighting withdrawal away from the beach, it became apparent that the Swabians weren't just coming ashore at the harbor. Gunfire drew their attention from the northwest as another invading force pressed in against the city. The brave defenders did their utmost to hold off the Swabian threat but they were no match against modern weaponry and tactics. They crumbled almost too easily.

"My king, we have to pull back!" yelled one of the army's generals as explosions ringed around the city.

Heron threw his arms out. "There's nowhere to retreat to, General! You have to keep on fighting! Get more men into the gap and fight!"

Despite the overwhelming odds, Heron wasn't going to let the city fall without giving every ounce of blood there was to give, but as the day wore on, it became increasingly evident that remaining in the city was the less viable option. Long streams of survivors and battered warriors pushed out into the countryside, past the defensive wall where they won their freedom against his brother's soldiers more than a year ago. The monument to their greatest victory now bore witness to their stunning defeat.

It was only as the sun was setting that Heron managed to regroup with some familiar faces some distance from the city. Elektra and Nikias had managed to rummage together the shattered remains of the army—no more than a thousand fighters who'd either escaped the carnage or hadn't yet reached it. They'd both seen better days. Nikias was wounded in the lower part of his arm, a bandage keeping steady pressure on the injury. Elektra looked like she'd lived an entire lifetime in the space of a day, a sentiment shared by many who'd managed to escape the city. Joining them was also Melora, who had been spirited to safety before the first Swabian landings.

"Father," Elektra greeted as she pushed in for a warm embrace. "I've failed you. My army has failed you today."