Fourth Vector Ch. 40

"Not a chance but it was a close one. What's your coordinates?"

"Art and I are moving south now. The army is fighting a rearguard action as we speak, while getting support from the fleet to slow down the Swabians. We need to get out of the city."

There was a pause as Greg digested that information. "Is the battle lost, Jack?"

The words tasted bitter on his tongue. "It looks like it, Greg. We need to keep the army intact. All forces are moving south and we'll set up on a defensive line outside the city for the night. Here's the coordinates."

It didn't take long for Jack and Art to reach the new line centered just a mile south of the city. By the time Greg found them, the sun had already set and most of the fighting had stopped.

What was left of the Allied force was nearly broken. Every man was exhausted from the day's fighting.

They were also tired of being beaten. That spark of hope that this campaign would be short and sweet had utterly vanished.

That couldn't have been more properly illustrated when Jack saw Greg. The two men embraced like brothers who'd truly been through hell together.

And now victory in the war seemed further away than ever.

*****

The next several days were amongst the worst of Jack's life.

The Allied Army was in a headlong retreat, trying to save some semblance of order as it moved south, putting as many miles between it and the Swabians as possible.

Casualties were terrible. In two battles, Jack had lost the equivalent of twelve thousand men, most of them wounded. The army as it stood now only had about forty-three thousand effectives. Fortunately, most of the men were still armed.

Unfortunately, they'd lost most of their tanks in the process. All of the new models that had been created in Galicia had succumbed to Swabian firepower, becoming burnt out wrecks on the battlefield. Several artillery pieces had to be left behind as well because of the hasty retreat, leaving the entire army with a decisive lack of firepower.

They'd even had to sacrifice air power. The Battle of Murgullah saw the destruction of over ten aircraft to capture or other aerial kills by the Swabians.

One of those casualties was Dustin.

He was barely alive when his body washed up on the beach just a few miles south of Murgullah. It was fortunate that he was discovered by a group of Picard soldiers moving south along the beach, noticing his body being pounded by the surf.

At first, they'd thought he was another casualty but seeing as the battle hadn't come this far south, they went out to retrieve him.

They found a man barely clinging to life. Dustin's leg was broken when he was shot out of the sky. The worst part was that he seemed to suffer a concussion in the impact as well, barely able to remember the events that led to him being take down.

For now, Dustin was going to be sidelined. With him went one of their best flyers.

As Jack followed the southern coastal road, walking alongside his battered army, he thought seriously about his strategy and whether the invasion of Swabia had been a bad idea all along.

Perhaps he should have invaded one of the outlying islands? Perhaps it was a better idea to continue to chew off pieces of the Swabian force before engaging what remained of it?

Here on the main island of Swabia, there seemed to be no limit to the endless hordes of Swabian soldiers. For the first time, Jack could truly see that picking off the Swabian forces on Apulia, Picardy, Andalucia, and Sorella had absolutely no effect on their overall numbers.

They were simply replaced. Swabia had the population to keep putting new men in uniform. While several of the soldiers in front of them may have been completely green at the start of the year, they were supported by a small cadre of well-trained veterans under General Ferberg that showed them the ropes.

And now they knew how to fight. And they were going to keep fighting, no matter how many casualties they took.

It was an entirely depressing thought. For the first time in his career, Jack thought that he was in over his head. How could one man seek to defeat an empire? Prophecy or not, he couldn't do it on his own. And now even his grand alliance was getting mauled at the hands of the Swabians.

Perhaps this really wasn't what fate had in mind for him?

What if the prophecy was wrong?

What if the Swabian prophecy was the correct one? And Avila was the strong emperor that was meant to wield ultimate power, proving Jack to be nothing but a minor hindrance in the grand scheme of things?

It was these dangerous thoughts that circled Jack's mind as he sat down that evening. The army had made it to another small Swabian fishing village by the name of Castus. It was an ideal village for its main industry, boasting a large natural harbor and being well-protected on all but two sides by the land and water. For now, it would be an ideal defensive site while Jack figured out what he wanted to do.

The only problem was that he was suffering from a supreme lack of confidence right now. It was immediately picked up on by his wives.

Abigail was just the first one to intervene. She grabbed his hand as he sat in his chair, staring at the ground. "Jack, you can't continue to beat yourself up over this."

Jack blinked and then focused his attention on her. "Why shouldn't I? It's my fault. All of this is my fault. I was too aggressive."

She shook her head firmly. "No, you did what needed to be done. The war was never going to end if we hadn't brought the fight to Swabia. We needed to come here one way or another. This is what we needed to go through."

"We needed to have all those men die for nothing?" asked Jack angrily. "They're dead for no reason! I could understand if we were having this conversation in Dagobern right now but the fact of the matter is that they died for nothing. We arefurther from our goal now. We should have picked another invasion site."

Kat moved behind Jack and put her arms around his neck. "You know it wouldn't have been that easy. Where would we have gone? Selz? Cormfeld? There's barely any soldiers there and my guess is that Avila would have pulled them out like he did on Picardy. This fight was always meant to happen."

"It was meant to happen but it could've waited," said Jack. "We could've built our strength up another year. We didn't have to do it now."

Kat moved from behind him and sank to her knees. Like Abigail, she grabbed one of his hands too. "You have to stop doing this to yourself. You know it needed to be done. So we've suffered a couple of defeats. So what? We're still here, right? The army is still intact and we're alive. You can't ask for much more than that."

"I can ask for a whole lot more," muttered Jack.

"No, Jack, you really can't," added Abigail. "We'll get through this. We've gotten through everything else, right? Kat has a point--we're still alive. And as long as we're alive, we have hope."

It was a tough pill to swallow, mostly because Jack felt it let him off too lightly. If anything, he thought he needed to be held accountable for their losses and their fate. But neither his wives, nor much of the army in general, seemed to doubt his leadership.

"The men still talk about you like fighting for you is the highlight of their lives," said Kat. "This whole thing revolves around you, Jack. You can't give up hope. If you do, then what do the rest of us have to hope for?"

In saying those words, she brought up an excellent point. As long as the army still had faith in him, he could chance one more engagement. But this next engagement had to go to plan.

There could be no more reversals or defeats.

If they didn't win in Swabia, they would all die.

The time had come to give the last full measure, and Jack was determined to make their current position into one that could resist the Swabian Army.

The question was how? What cost would be demanded of him for a victory against the Swabians?

What if that cost was his life?

*****

"An evacuation is out of the question."

Jack watched the stunned looks on the faces of Greg, Art, Russ, and Bill as the words left his mouth. It was the next morning and all five men were gathered into a planning session to discuss what to do next in the campaign.

Not surprisingly, the first option put on the table was for a total evacuation.

"It might be the most prudent option," said Greg tentatively as he felt out the others. "We can regroup in Picardy before choosing another place to strike. It would buy us some time and we would have freedom of the seas thanks to the navy."

Jack shook his head firmly. "Even with forty-three thousand men, we'd never be able to get all the men out in one wave. With how many Swabians out there, we'd be consigning all the men left behind to death. I know Ferberg would pounce on them as soon as our ships were on the horizon. I'm also not leaving Swabia regardless. We came here to fight. We chose this island to make our stand. Now let's stop talking about an evacuation and start talking about ways to defeat our enemy."

Bill crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Are you sure that's what you want to do, Jack? There's no shame in leaving the island, especially if it's for the best for the army."

Jack shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. "This is where we fight. We have to show the Swabians that we won't be intimidated in defeat. We have to show them that we will continue to fight even when our backs are pressed against the wall. This is the end of the road, my friends. We will win this next engagement or else there will be nothing left of our cause. Now help me decide how we go about attaining such a victory."

That set off a small firestorm of ideas, and Jack was temporarily happy they didn't let defeatism get the best of them. He suspected his strong stance just now was eerily similar to the one that Kat and Abigail had with him earlier. In any event, it worked, and Jack watched as the generals went over the major formations around the city of Castus.

Things at last seemed to be getting back to normal when one of Russ' subordinate officers soon rushed into the command tent.

"Sir, we have enemy activity coming down the Strait of Murgullah," announced the officer, a captain by the looks of him.

"What kind of activity?" asked Russ.

"Our radar is picking up at least thirty vessels moving south through the strait," answered the officer. "The only force of that size has to be Swabian. They've given no responses to our attempt to contact them so it's to be assumed they're hostile."

"And it's not a bad idea on their part either," said Russ as he looked over at Jack. "They probably think our army is as good as broken. Why not hamper what's left of it with the navy?"

"If that's the case, they're forgetting what happened the last time their navy tangled with ours," said Jack. "I think they need another reminder, Russ."

"Permission to give them such a reminder, Jack?"

Jack smirked. "Granted. Protect our supply lines first and engage the enemy second. Show them who really rules the seas around here."

That order set off a flurry of activity around the base in Castus. By midafternoon, almost all the naval officers had taken to their ships, including Russ and Abigail, who wasn't about to miss any action against the Swabians.

"I've only had one other real battle against them," said Abigail as she was about to depart. "And then theDestiny only sank a destroyer. This time, I want to take down a battleship."

Jack chuckled. "Just don't bite off more than you can chew. Remember, theDestiny is still my favorite ship. Don't let anything happen to her."

Abigail stuck out her lower lip. "Sometimes I think you love that ship more than you love me."

Jack answered that accusation by kissing her soundly. "Now where did you get a silly idea like that?"

That seemed to satisfy her and after several more long and passionate kisses, she finally departed to board the mighty cruiser. The fleet departed at sunset and started to move on a northerly course, determined to intercept the Swabian fleet.

At least Jack had more hope for the outcome of a sea battle. They hadn't yet lost a battle against the Swabians at sea.

Yet.

*****

Not long after the fleet departed, Vera made her way to the tent shared by her brother and his wives, finding Kat inside by herself. That she was alone wasn't entirely by surprise. Vera waited until her brother was gone in order to speak to Kat by herself.

"Do you have a minute?" asked Vera. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Kat shook her head and sat down on the bed. She patted the spot next to her. "You never disturb me, Vera. You know that. What's going on?"

Vera moved quickly and sat down next to one of her best friends and her sister-in-law. She pursed her lips as she tried to carefully pick her words.

"I'm concerned about Jack," she said simply. "More so than in any other recent time."

Vera wasn't sure what kind of reception she would get from Kat. Her brother's wife was remarkably adept at seeing the reality of any situation but Vera questioned whether Kat was too close to Jack to see what was really troubling him. She wondered if Kat would admit there was a problem at all or if she would stick her head in the sand.

Thankfully, Kat didn't disappoint.

The Galician Queen simply nodded. "I understand what you mean. I've been worried about him too. Abigail as well. He's been very hard on himself the last few days."

"Do you think he's being too reckless with the demands to stay here in Swabia?" asked Vera. "I understand he's forbidden an evacuation. Wasn't it just a short time ago that he was severely depressed over the way the campaign was going? My fear is that... it's just that..."

Vera stuttered, not wanting to say the words out loud.

"That he's not thinking clearly?" suggested Kat. "That he's consigned himself, and all of us, to defeat?"

Vera flinched. "Yes. I hate to even say it but that's what I'm thinking. There's more to it than that though."

"What do you mean?"

Vera took a deep breath. "We know about the prophecy and we know that there's a chance he could die in this final battle. You don't think that Jack thinks this next engagement is the final battle, do you? What I'm most worried about is that he's going to do something reckless. I'm worried about his mental state, and I don't want him dashing off to play the sacrificial hero if he thinks it's going to turn this whole thing around. We need him. We can't let him be defeated. We need the strong Jack."

"I know, Vera. Believe me, I know," said Kat as she stared at the ground. "I wish I knew what's going through his head right now but he's not being too open. He seems committed to continuing the fight here but I don't know if he really believes we can win. I don't know how much of the prophecy is on his mind and whether that's hurting our cause."

"Would you talk to him, Kat? Make him talk if he doesn't want to? I'm afraid for him. I'm worried about what this campaign is doing to him. Not just for the army's sake but for his sake too. I don't know if he would listen to me like he'd listen to you."

Kat pursed her lips. "He hasn't listened much to what Abigail or I have had to say about it."

"Maybe we just need to keep on him," suggested Vera. "I don't know what the right course will be but I know we can't let him continue on like this. He's liable to do something rash and I don't want to see that. We know how much is at stake."

Kat spread her hands helplessly. "I'll talk to him again, I promise. When he comes back tonight, we'll talk about it. I really don't think he'd do anything rash but I wish I had a better read on him right now. He just seems so distant."

Vera gave her a pained expression. "That's the part that worries me the most."

*****

Back in Java, Emperor Bancroft sat in his study and pondered.

It was early morning still and the sun hadn't yet risen on the horizon. The only light in the room was artificial, ensuring the rest of the study was shrouded in darkness.

Bancroft preferred it this way. It allowed him to think without any unnecessary distractions.

Mostly, he pondered about theStingray, the defecting destroyer that had made the journey across the ocean from Jack Easterbrook's rebel force.

Bancroft had been briefed extensively about the destroyer. He was aware of the testimony of all the senior officers and he'd kept an eye on them for the past week to see if there were any missing links to the chain.

And it all seemed to check out. By all accounts, theStingray really had defected from Easterbrook.

And that was what made Bancroft so nervous as well as suspicious.

It was hard to deny that Easterbrook had a certain charisma about him. The man had caused an entire marine force and naval task force to willingly defect with him. Soldiers who didn't love their commander didn't just defect from their home country without good reason.

So what did it mean if theStingray really did defect? Did it mean Easterbrook was in trouble? That his cause was falling apart? Was it guilt on the part of theStingray?

Or was there something more to it than that? Was there a deeper plot that Bancroft hadn't even suspected?

It was on his mind so much that he had already talked to Clark about it as well.

"I think you're being paranoid about it," said Clark matter-of-factly when the discussion happened the day before. "Is it so hard to believe that things may not be so rosy in Easterbrook's camp? We know they are fighting their own war over there as well against the Fourthies."

"I'm just trying to figure out what advantage it would give Easterbrook for sending theStingray here," said Bancroft. "If it's not truly a defection, why would he do it? What could he gain from it?"

"Intelligence?" suggested Clark. "If he was so inclined to sacrifice a destroyer, the intel of what we're doing over here could be important to him."

"Important only if he's planning on fighting us himself," said Bancroft. "I could hardly imagine that he would seek to fight us willingly with the limited forces at his disposal. I do plan to bring him to justice eventually but I will be the hunter in that game. Not the hunted."

Clark shrugged. "Then I can't imagine any benefit it would give him. If he knows he'll be outnumbered, he's not going to sacrifice a warship just to get some intel that could change in another month or two anyway. I really believe this ship is here because they were tired of gallivanting with him. Every word the officers had to say made sense about it."

"That's what worries me, Clark. Easterbrook has a history of making questionable decisions. The man once had the entire Javan world at his feet. He could be the one standing next to us right now at the pinnacle of power and he threw it all away for some Fourthie cunt. We need to look beyond the sensible options and get inside the mind of a man that doesn't always think logically."

By that point in the conversation, Clark let out another helpless shrug. "If you think of what it really could be, let me know. For now, I have other business to take care of."

With those words, Bancroft's deputy soon left the room, leaving Bancroft to stew in private. Despite Clark's easy dismissal, Bancroft just couldn't let it go. That was why it was still on his mind that early morning, and why he'd examined it from every possible angle.

One thing was for certain--he wasn't going to get any answers if nothing changed. Just to cover all bases, Bancroft dedicated a team of spies to watching the men from theStingray as well as investigating any disturbances in the country. In case there was something going on, he was determined to be the first to find out about it.