Fourth Vector Ch. 47

Lucas let out a deep sigh. "That would be wonderful, Jack."

*****

Jack and Lucas didn't realize it but the group of soldiers that ran past their position at that moment contained another pair of unlikely allies.

"By the gods," swore Brian Mikkelson as he struggled to keep pace with his larger Swabian friend. "Slow the pace down, will you? I'm dying over here."

Next to him, Arnold Perera started to laugh. "Come on now, one more lap around the base. You can make it."

"I'm not going to make much of anything if we don't catch a breather!"

"Quit your whining. All my Swabian friends can make this run without complaining. Why can't you?"

That statement lit a fire under Brian's ass. Though he liked Arnold now and considered the big Swabian his friend, he still felt the stirrings of rivalry when compared to him. No matter how deep their friendship, he'd never be able to accept being on the losing end of any contest involving the Swabians.

For the next fifteen minutes, they ran at Arnold's pace around the rest of the base. Brian summoned the last of his physical reserves to keep up but by the time they reached their starting point, he nearly collapsed against the grass as he struggled for air.

"Good run that was," said Arnold while trying to keep a straight face. He failed in that measure and tossed a water canteen in Brian's direction.

"Good run, my ass," said Brian after taking a heavy swig from the canteen. "I reenlisted to fight the enemy not run away from them. All this running is too much for me."

"What about what happened back in Picardy? You outlasted me on that run when we were back in camp?"

Brian grunted. "Probably because all I've had to eat in the last two weeks is shitty navy food. It's robbed me of my strength."

"I figured a Galician might say that," joked Arnold, poking the bear a little.

Brian resumed his stance and elbowed his friend in the chest. "Don't start with me now."

Arnold laughed and clapped Brian on the back. "It's good fun to mess with you, Brian. I have to say that I'm surprised you managed to keep up. I increased the pace on the last lap so you really pushed yourself!"

Arnold dodged a more serious punch coming in his direction, laughing the entire time. The two men started walking back to the Swabian side of the camp, chattering as they went (and still trying to catch their breath).

It had been an interesting half week for the two of them. Brian had been glad to set foot on dry land with their arrival at this far-off outpost of the Javan Empire. He wasn't sure exactly what to expect as they walked through the base of Quiller's Cove but so far it appeared that the Javans were little different than the Westerners in appearance and mannerisms. That had caused some considerable concern amongst the men, mostly because their only living references to Javans came in the form of their king, their leading general, and the Javan marine regiment that fought with them.

The concern was that if those men were average examples of their countrymen, they would need all the luck they could get fighting a war against them.

Thankfully, it seemed the average Javan wasn't cut from the same cloth as their king, and the scenes in Quiller's Cove were a pretty close match to just about anything Brian would see back in Kalmar.

If this was what the enemy looked like, the prospects of war weren't as frightening as it was before.

"I'm not going to enjoy getting back on those ships in another day," mumbled Arnold as they neared his tent. "Crowded, smelly, and nothing but that constant rocking about as the waves hit the hull. No thanks."

"And to think, we have a good six-week journey across the ocean to reach Java," teased Brian, taking his chance to get some retribution against his friend. "Whatever are you going to do? You'll be hugging the railing the entire way."

Arnold paled slightly at the thought. "As long as we don't run into any storms like the one on the way to Picardy. I don't mind being on the seas but I do mind being batted around like a child's plaything."

"That's quite a shame," teased Brian. "I heard there's nothing but storms on that ocean at this time of year. It's going to be a rough six weeks for you, it looks like."

Brian dodged Arnold's helmet that was thrown his way in the next moment, laughing as he resumed his stance.

"Don't shoot the messenger, brother. I'm only trying to prepare you!"

Arnold smirked and shook his head. "Galician bastard," he said without the slightest hint of malice.

Brian chuckled. "Dumb Swabian ox."

The two of them laughed together for several minutes until the moment passed. Arnold was the first to sober up and resume serious conversation.

"I have to wonder what's waiting for us over there though," said the Swabian. "I can see the Javans are just like us here. I can't imagine their homeland is any different. I hope it will be a simple contest though. We get there, we find their army and give them such a bad whooping that the war ends right there."

"You're a dreamer, that's for sure," replied Brian. "Especially if you think this war is going to be over quickly. I'm not anticipating that we're going to be home anytime soon."

Arnold winced. "More like months then?"

"Try years. We are facing the combined power of three continents. This is not going to be an easy war. It's going to be a slog, and lots of men are going to die."

Arnold grunted and looked at the ground. "I don't mind dying. Don't get me wrong, I don't prefer it but if that's what needs to happen, I only hope I take ten of those fuckers with me at the time."

"Only ten?" asked Brian with a straight face. "I was thinking more like twenty."

"You know what I mean, you bastard," said Arnold with a chuckle. "I don't want to die over there though if we're being totally honest."

"No surprises there. No man wants to die before becoming an old man. I wouldn't expect anything less of you."

"It's just that, I have commitments at home waiting for me," said Arnold. "Eloise will expect me to marry her someday. I can't do that if I'm dead, and I sure wouldn't want anyone else doing it with my woman."

Brian chuckled. "That's a powerful motivator. I have to survive this war to prevent anyone else from sleeping with my woman."

Arnold laughed with him. "I'm serious! If there's a way to come back from death, I'd be back so fast. Especially if it was someone I knew."

"Then I hope for your sake that your woman has a long grieving period if you die," said Brian, finding the words strangely sobering on his tongue.

Arnold grunted. "Me too. She deserves a good man though. Can't be single for the rest of her life, right? But maybe just wait a little after I die before she starts dating again. I couldn't handle it otherwise."

"How long would that period be if you had a say?"

Arnold shrugged. "Maybe like ten or fifteen years?"

Brian laughed rather hard. "Well then, you'll just have to keep your head down once we get to Java. Or else the next fifteen years are going to be very boring for poor Eloise."

Arnold grinned. "What about you? Give any thought to what you'll do when you get back to Galicia?"

Brian's smile evaporated. Quite suddenly, he turned his attention to the dirt between his boots. "I haven't the slightest idea. I'm not looking forward to it, quite honestly."

Brian didn't say anything more on the topic. He'd already shared with Arnold before what had happened with his wife and didn't feel the need to talk about it again. His last time in Kalmar had been quite bleak, and it was this outlook that caused him to reenlist in the first place.

"We just need to find you a good Galician girl," said Arnold, attempting to keep the peace. "One with long hair down to her ass and nice big tits that you can use as pillows."

Brian was jerked out of his melancholy as he began to laugh. "Tits as pillows? Now there's a thought. You think a girl like that would want a burnt-old soldier though?"

"Why the hell not?" asked Arnold. "You'll be a war hero, right? Not only of one war but two. Might even have some really cool scars to show off in the process. Women always love battle scars, trust me on that. See this one?"

Arnold raised his sleeve to show off a nasty scar that could only have been a bullet wound.

"I got this one during the war. When Eloise saw it the first time, she got so horny that we had sex three times in the next two hours."

Brian laughed. "I'm happy for you then, brother. It sounds like you have a good woman on your hands. Someone who cares about you and someone with a healthy sex drive."

"You're right about that, and that's why we need to find the same for you. Some good-looking Galician woman." Arnold paused for a minute as something occurred to him. He then leaned forward in a very conspiratorial manner.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Arnold chose his words carefully. "I've always wondered this. You Galicians are famous for your blonde hair and all. But does the hair on their heads match their... uh, you know, does it match... down below?"

Brian struggled to keep a straight face. "Are you asking if the carpet matches the drapes?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"It's a Galician expression," joked Brian. "It just means that the hair on the head is usually the same as the hair down below, in the pubic region. Carpet matching the drapes, get it? And you're right. Their blonde hair is visible below as well."

"By the gods, that's interesting," said Arnold, as if he'd never considered such a thing before. "I always thought all women had dark hair down there."

"Maybe you should find a Galician woman as well," joked Brian. "And then you can get some real variety for once."

Arnold shook his hands quickly. "Nah, Eloise would kill me. I'm quite content with my woman but what you've told me now makes for some interesting thoughts."

"That it does, that it does."

The two men continued to talk for another thirty minutes or so before they tired of sitting in the tent. Since there was only a short amount of time before the supper mess, it was decided to leave the camp and climb one of the short hills on the outskirts of Quiller's. Based on the word of their comrades, nearly the entire island could be seen from just a short climb, and it was something to be experienced before they left.

"What a view!" yelled Arnold as they climbed the summit and looked out on all of Quiller's Cove. "Hard to believe we're here on this rock in the middle of the ocean!"

"In some forsaken country like Java," added Brian. "Who would have thought we'd be standing here someday? This is the furthest away from home I've ever been."

"Wait until we get to the actual continent," said Arnold. "Then you'll really feel like you're far from home."

"It's interesting in a way," said Brian as he gestured to the view in front of him. "You know what this reminds me of?"

"What's that?"

"When we first got to Apulia in the last war," answered Brian. "My old regiment back then was the 7th. We were amongst the first to land in the city of Arezzo. Same deal as here. The city sits on a bluff that juts out into the sea. Everywhere you looked back then, it was either water or the enemy. Completely surrounded, just like now."

"I've heard a lot of talk about that battle," said Arnold. "Only a small handful of veterans made their way back to Swabia after that one. Pitiful affair really."

"It was the turning point in the war. Up until that point, you and your countrymen were victorious everywhere you went."

Arnold scoffed. "And after that point, it only started to go downhill. We had one bright ray of sunshine after the Battle of Sepolz."

"I remember that one too. I remember how much uncertainty there was in camp about having to retreat from the enemy for the first time."

"And I remember how nice it was not to have our asses handed to us for once," joked Arnold.

Brian chuckled. "It seems like from just our experiences alone, we've seen a lot of the last war. Perhaps we should write about it someday?"

"I think I'd leave that to you. I'm not much for writing. Books never really interested me. I'd rather be the receiver of a good story than telling it."

"Perhaps," conceded Brian. "But then again, that's assuming we survive this next war."

There was a moment of silence after that. Both men stared out on the base of Quiller's Cove as the sun moved on the southern horizon. It would be setting soon, something that occurred later than expected in this part of the world.

For Brian, it was just another reminder of how far away from home they really were.

"You know, if we do make it back, I want you to visit Swabia one day," said Arnold out of the blue.

Brian gave him a shocked look. "You're joking."

"I'm not," replied the big Swabian with a chuckle. "Don't get me wrong, you might get a few stares. We might also get into a few fights. But I'd want you to meet Eloise and the rest of the family. If we survive this next fight, I wouldn't mind showing you my favorite spots and enjoying a cold Swabian beer with you."

At that moment, Brian actually felt touched that the other man made such an offer.

"You can say that offer goes both ways then," said Brian. "You can come to Kalmar anytime you wish. Not that I have many people to introduce you to but I'll show you the best spots. And if you play your cards right, I'll even introduce you to some Galician girl with a big, blonde bush between her legs."

Arnold nearly snorted with laughter. "Now there's a sight I'd pay to see!"

"Oh, you might not have to pay them. I think the novelty factor alone of being the only Swabian in Galicia might just work in your favor!"

They continued to laugh together for several moments. "Let's just hope we survive the war. And hope that the women in Java don't look any worse than what we've got at home!"

"I don't know," said Brian. "The Javan girls here at Quiller's don't look too bad."

"Are they the first Javan girls you've ever seen?"

"Well, yes and no," answered Brian after a moment's thought. "They are the first average Javan girls I've seen. After all, one of our queens is Javan. Queen Abigail is from there."

"Ah, I've seen her before," said Arnold as his tone changed. "Now that's a looker right there. Your king landed himself a true ten."

"Don't get any ideas," joked Brian. "Besides, I hear she's pregnant."

"Is that right? Well, good for them. The other queen you have isn't exactly ugly either."

"Queen Katherine? God no, that's a classic Galician beauty right there. I'd put her up against the best our country has to offer and she'd probably still win."

"You know, I never thought I'd get to the point where I'd say I actually admire the Galician King," said Arnold wistfully. "If he gets to go to bed with both of them each night, then consider me a jealous man."

"Are you saying you couldn't do the same with your own situation? Eloise not the sharing type?"

Arnold shuddered. "I'd hate to even think about bringing that topic up. I think Eloise would stab me with the first blunt object she could find. They'd find my body with a hundred fork stab wounds."

Brian snorted with laughter. "The jealous type then, eh? Well, from what you've told me, she sounds like a good woman."

"We all need a good woman in our life," said Arnold before he added a second later, "and in some cases, two good women."

Brian became quiet for a moment as he thought about the fact that he had no good women in his life. Since his ex-wife had run off, there had been no one to replace her. Not that he was looking, since being in the army prevented that kind of thing anyway, but Arnold had a great point.

Sometimes, it only took a good woman to put things into perspective.

"Let's hope I can find her one day," muttered Brian under his breath.

He felt Arnold slap his back playfully. "You'll find her, my friend. I have no doubt about that."

Brian only wished he felt a tenth of Arnold's confidence.

*****

Later on that evening, Jack made his way to Lucas' headquarters once more, arranging for a private meeting with the commodore.

Well, almost private. Jack always had his security force around him for one, but also tonight, they'd be joined by Abigail a little later on.

For now though, it was just Jack and his security, and when he arrived at Lucas' headquarters, he found the other man still finishing up a meal.

"Want me to come back, Stan?" asked Jack from the door, gesturing to the half-eaten piece of fish on the commodore's plate.

"Nonsense, come in, Jack, come in," said Lucas as he wiped his mouth. "Forgive me, the evening got away from me and I couldn't eat until now. Do you want anything?"

"I'm good, thank you. Perhaps just a water though?"

"Of course, Lt. Settler will see to it now," said Lucas, as his deputy soon returned with the water.

Jack sat down next to Lucas and looked out on the harbor of Quiller's Cove. The night was peaceful and the stars were plentiful as they gazed out on the still waters.

"I've gotten quite used to this view," said Lucas after several moments of silence. "Looking out on the harbor of Quiller's. Come to think of it, this is the view I've seen the most in my life now. I've been at this base for so many years that I find my memory of home gets cloudier every year. There are faces that I haven't seen in that time that I can barely picture anymore. Even the house that I used to live in is just a vague memory now."

"Perhaps it won't be much longer until you can see them again," suggested Jack. "Perhaps you're a lot closer to going home than you think."

Lucas waved his hand dismissively. "Bah, I'm not getting my hopes up. I think I'll die on this rock. I've long since accepted that fate, Jack. As much as I want you and your army to succeed, I still think I'll end up buried on the outskirts of town. Or perhaps out in the harbor in true naval fashion. 'Home' is a word increasingly without meaning for me."

After listening to Lucas talk, Jack had something on his mind that he wanted to ask the commodore. The words were on the tip of his tongue when Lucas changed the subject quite suddenly.

"Enough about me though, Jack. You're leaving soon, right? You didn't come out here to listen to an old man prattle."

"I'd hardly call that prattling," joked Jack before he addressed the subject. "But yes, we will leave tomorrow, late in the morning. With Reynolds' force approaching, I want to get the transports out of harm's way on the northern route. I'll be placing my forces between them and Reynolds and we'll see if we can force a decisive engagement."

"I wish I could be there to see it happen," said Lucas wistfully. "Now that will be a battle talked about for some time. The combined fleets of West and East fighting for supremacy. The largest naval battle in history. People will still be talking about it generations from now."

"As long as we win," said Jack with a smirk. "And I have mixed feelings about drawing Reynolds into battle. I remember him being a cautious admiral, which I hope to use against him. Truthfully, I'd prefer to delay any kind of grand naval battle until I'm sure I can win. A loss against Reynolds would leave our transports utterly vulnerable. He needs to be beaten but I'd like to make sure of my conditions before that time comes."

"Reynolds is cautious, all right. He gets spooked rather easily, from what I remember. Hopefully you can use that to your advantage."

"Let's hope so," said Jack. "Honestly, it's not Reynolds that keeps me up at night. It's Bancroft. I've seen what he's done in his single-minded pursuit of ultimate power. What worries me is what he'll do to keep that power. What kind of atrocities is he capable of doing in order to stay emperor?"

Lucas let out a deep breath. "That's a question with a complicated and messy answer, Jack. I'd almost not want to know the answer lest it turn my stomach."