Fourth Vector Ch. 48

"Jack seemed a bit tense when I popped my head in," said Vera as she smoothed out the wrinkle in her dress. "I think if it were anyone else interrupting him, he might have bitten their head off."

Kat closed her eyes and nodded. "He's under so much stress lately. It's all been a bit too much to deal with for just about anyone, but I know he feels the world on his shoulders. He hasn't been sleeping much and there are times in the middle of the night that I'll wake up and see him staring up at the ceiling." Kat let out a deep breath. "I just worry about him so much."

Vera reached over to put a comforting hand on her friend's arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was that bad. I thought Greg was stressed but this seems to take it to another level. Do you think that he's worried about the prophecy as well?"

Kat nodded. "He'd never admit it but that's what I suspect. I think that he believes he's going to a certain death. It frightens me, Vera. Every mile closer that we get to Java, knowing that it could be his end is absolutely terrifying. Even more so knowing that we have to do it. We can't just go home and pretend that the war doesn't exist."

"I can see that it's affecting him," said Vera. "Is there any comforting him? Anything you can do to take his mind off of it?"

Kat gave a helpless shrug. "That's what I hate. He doesn't want to talk about it for the most part. I don't know whether he's just consigned himself to that happening or if he thinks he can bury himself in work to get away from thinking about it. Either way, it doesn't make it easier for us. Truthfully, I miss him, Vera. I want my husband back."

Vera scooted closer and put her arm around her friend. "Are you hanging in there? I know how he is but how is this affecting you? Are you going to be okay?"

Kat nodded quickly. "I hope so. I think so, I mean. I'd be great if he could take a night off and just talk to me. Talk to both Abigail and I. I have to wonder if that's causing this partly as well too. With Abigail being pregnant, it's a constant reminder that another child is on the way. I know we both miss John, and I can't tell you how much I'd give to hold my baby in my arms again. I'm sure some of this is related to that too."

Vera smiled sadly. "I miss the little guy as well. At least Evelyn is doing well. And taking care of him."

That was true, of course. It was only a few days ago that a dispatch arrived from Kalmar from Evelyn that was mostly a status report of everything back at home. She reported that John was in good health and just as rambunctious as ever but that everything else was quiet back in Galicia, something everyone was secretly grateful for.

"I know she's taking good care of him but I can't help the fact that I can't wait to get home," said Kat. "I've been to Java once before and I don't have a desire to go there again. If not for Jack, I wouldn't have gone but I love him too much to let him go there without me. I just couldn't do it."

Vera opened her mouth to say something before there was knocking at her door. Both women turned to look as Abigail stuck her head in.

"Oh! There you are," said Abigail, looking at Kat. "I was wondering where you got off to."

"Just having some time to talk," said Vera. "You're welcome to join us."

Abigail took her opening and entered the room, sitting across from the other two women. Though Abigail was three months pregnant, she wasn't starting to show just yet. Her figure was still svelte and trim, without any hint of a growing midsection.

Kat quickly got Abigail up to speed on the nature of the conversation.

"We were just talking about Jack," said Kat. "And how this war has been affecting him."

Abigail made a knowing expression and nodded her head. "I see. So no light topics today. We're just jumping right into the heavy ones."

"Sorry, it seems to be that kind of day," said Vera. "In fact, you kind of see it with everyone right now. I think everyone has been at sea for just a little too long."

"Yes," emphasized Kat. "I was just thinking that earlier. I think everyone will be happier once we see land again. And hopefully to do so without the Javans catching up to us."

"So far, we seem to be doing a great job at that," said Abigail. "We know they're shadowing our forces but they've made no attempt to press for an engagement. We just might make it to Java without having to fight them."

Kat shook her head. "We'll have to fight them eventually. There's no way we'll get out of it. Bancroft will make sure of it. I've met him before, the last time Jack was in Java. I could tell back then that he was the kind of man who would stop at nothing to have total control."

Vera shuddered. "As if that excuses killing innocent people. What he did to Jack's family..."

She didn't need to finish the sentence. All of them were no doubt thinking about the way that Jack's adoptive sister, Jocelyn, and her family was now buried outside of Kalmar, the victims of Bancroft's hatred. Their only crime was that they had familial ties to Jack, and for that reason, they were used to hurt him in the worst possible way.

"He will pay for what he's done," said Abigail firmly, her lips set with purpose. "One way or another, he'll pay."

"I'm as committed to the fight as anyone else," said Vera. "But the thought of a long war turns my stomach. I left behind the only world that I know two weeks ago once we started across the great ocean. I already have feelings of being homesick."

"Homesick is a good way of putting it," agreed Kat. "I'm homesick for Kalmar."

Abigail had a different thought though. "It's weird for me, having grown up in Java. This isn't a homecoming by any stretch of the imagination, and it's going to be strange for me to be back there, especially with the knowledge that I'm fighting my own people."

"Do you regret what has to be done?" asked Vera.

Abigail shook her head quickly. "No, not anymore at least. I'm the Queen of Galicia. One of the queens at least. My people are in Galicia, as is my sister-wife and my husband. My ties with Java were cut long ago. I'll always be fond of my family, my parents and my brothers. Sometimes I wonder if I'll get a chance to see them before this is all over. Or maybe I'll never see them again."

"I always forget that you still have your family back in Java," said Kat. "I've had no one for so long that I forget you still have those connections."

"I doubt they'd even recognize me anymore," said Abigail with a soft laugh. "Or what they'd do to hear that I'm a queen now. They might think me crazy, and they might even call me a rebel. Don't forget that my brothers were in the Javan Navy. I say were only because I don't know if they still are. In a very real sense, I might end up fighting them before this is all over."

"I have a feeling most of the Javans still within our force have had similar thoughts," said Vera quietly. "Greg has expressed similar emotions about fighting his own people. He's told me he's gotten over it but I'm not sure that I completely believe him. I think it still gnaws at him."

"It's not an easy thing to fight against your own people," said Kat. "I still remember the Battle of Kalmar when we seized the city from my cousin. A lot of good Galicians died that day but it was so that something great could happen. Jack took the throne and we've never looked back since. Maybe something similar can happen to Java in that way? It's distasteful to fight your own but maybe all we need is one good fight to convince the people that Bancroft is not their leader and the war can be over? Maybe we can show them what life looks like after Bancroft?"

A dreamy look appeared on Abigail's face. "For that outcome, I'd give the world, Kat. I really would."

*****

"Goddamnit, this tea is cold!"

Bancroft slammed the cup down on his desk, which caused several spurts of tea to overflow the sides, making for a mess. One hand went to his brow while the other pounded on the wooden surface.

The mess was quickly addressed by his servant, one of the girls he liked best because she didn't talk and she had a delightfully snug pussy, but it was the principle that agitated him.

"How am I supposed to win against Java's enemies when I can't even get hot tea?" he snapped to the girl. "Don't you think your emperor deserves the very best? Does he not do enough for the people of Java?"

"A thousand apologies," muttered the servant girl quickly, whisking away the offending cup. "I'll have a fresh cup brought out to you shortly."

"Test it first and make sure it's hot enough!" bellowed Bancroft before she was gone, the door swinging shut behind her.

Bancroft took a deep breath to center himself and turned his attention back to the only other occupant of the room, Colonel Scott Menard, the new leader of the Elite Guard formation that protected Bancroft at all times.

True to form, Menard found no humor in the exchange with the servant girl. In fact, Bancroft had wondered if he'd even seen the men laugh one time since he'd known him. He was a humorless sort, the kind that valued his own professionalism above all personal traits.

In short, he was the kind of man that Bancroft liked to work with above all others.

"Where were we now, Colonel?" said Bancroft more calmly.

Menard gestured to the map of western Java in front of them. "We're addressing the situation against our enemies, Sire. With the approach of Jack Easterbrook, it appears this army in Belfort is going to need to confront that threat sooner rather than later."

Bancroft gave a knowing nod. He'd only received word this morning of Easterbrook's path to Java, and to say it was perplexing was an understatement. Bancroft always assumed that Easterbrook would make for the center of power in Java--the capital of Belfort. It was where Bancroft was at all times and it was where any decisive conflict would inevitably be had.

However, that wasn't what Easterbrook was looking to do. The latest dispatch from Admiral Reynolds plotted out the Fourthie position and their landing points based upon this project to be much further north.

In effect, Easterbrook was heading for Lockhaven, not Belfort.

In hindsight, the move made sense to Bancroft, almost too much sense for his pride to allow. Lockhaven was Easterbrook's hometown, the place that he would be most comfortable with landing. It was also lightly defended compared to Belfort, which would allow him to get a foothold before advancing south to do battle with Bancroft's army.

It was also tricky in the respect that it would force Bancroft to leave Belfort, which might leave the city vulnerable against the approaching Tyroleans.

But Bancroft couldn't afford to allow Jack to march through half of Java, burning and pillaging as he went without a response from his army.

He had Bancroft in a bad position and it showed.

"What really irritates me is the fact that Admiral Reynolds has done nothing to attack this Fourthie fleet," growled Bancroft. "Despite having superior forces, he has allowed Easterbrook to come all this way without being checked once."

"From what Admiral Reynolds has to say, he is being cautious because of the enemy's greater than expected numbers in terms of ships and airplanes--"

"I know what he said," snapped Bancroft. "He's hesitating! Reynolds finally has the chance to go after his old enemy and now that he's within sight of Easterbrook, he's hesitating! I can't believe it myself. The man is a bloodthirsty brute of a commander and yet he won't strike a killing blow against Easterbrook."

"He does make mention that he's trying to locate the Fourthie transports."

Bancroft blew air through his lips. "Reynolds needs another reminder of what's at stake. I don't care what he's trying to do. He needs to engage that enemy fleet. They can't be permitted to unload in Lockhaven unmolested."

"If they do get to Lockhaven though, what is to become of the army?" asked Menard. "Will you send General Zander and the army north?"

Bancroft shook his head. "No, and I've been meaning to talk to you about that. I've been made aware that General Ryan has had a breakdown it seems. The man has lost his last marble. He's been detained for trying to desert his command."

Menard's eyes went wide. "A commanding general tried to desert his own army?"

"Despicable, isn't it? I never should have put him back in the field after the Battle of the Wilds but here we are. That means I have an army in the field directly opposite the enemy without a commander. I sent orders to General Zander this morning to assume command of that army with all possible haste."

"What about us though?" asked Menard. "Zander was in command of the Belfort army. Who will command it now?"

Bancroft gave him a small grin. "About that, you should know that I've put in for you to be promoted, effective immediately. You will no longer be a colonel but a general in my army now. And your first act as commanding officer will be to assume control of the Belfort army."

Menard looked like he'd just been slapped. His mouth hung open as his eyes assumed a look of deep confusion. "Me, Sire?"

"Yes, you, Menard. I need someone I can trust and my officers are failing all around me. Reynolds has lost his spine, and Ryan has lost his damn mind. I put in to have Commodore Lucas of Quiller's Cove executed once we recover the island. I can't allow the stink of his failure to poison our command any longer. You and Zander are the only ones I have left, and I need you to perform for me. I need you to get out there and crush our enemies so totally that we can bring this long-running war to a swift conclusion. Can you do that for me, Menard?"

"I've been practically begging for a larger command for years," said Menard confidently as he looked Bancroft in the eyes. "I have what it takes to lead men in the field, both small formations and large. As your new commanding general, I will lead this army wherever it needs to go and totally destroy anyone who gets in our way."

Bancroft started to smirk. "That's the kind of martial spirit and ardor that I need to see. I need commanders with a lust for blood and glory. You will be tested though, Menard. Our enemies won't go quietly."

"Then we'll just have to make them wish that they had," added Menard.

"Very good, very good. In that case, I want you to present yourself to the main barracks this afternoon. Get the men familiar with you. They'll be needed to fight soon enough."

"What about the Elite Guard, Sire? I'm assuming we'll put in a new commander as my replacement?"

Bancroft nodded. "Yes, select the man that you see most fit. And prepare for the Elite Guard to follow you north."

Menard gave him a confused look. "North, Sire?"

"Yes, we'll all be moving out north very shortly," confirmed Bancroft. "If Easterbrook is going to land at Lockhaven, we're going to have to be close enough to meet him. Get word to the rest of the army. I'll be going with you. I want to see this final showdown with Jack Easterbrook. I want to be there when we defeat him."

The confusion on Menard's face melted away, only to be replaced by a content smirk. "It will be a most fitting start to my career as your commanding general, Sire. A win against your most dangerous enemy."

"My thoughts exactly, Menard."

*****

It took the better part of the afternoon to get the word out that Colonel Menard was now General Menard, but by nightfall, the army that occupied Belfort was preparing to move north.

Critical to this process was making sure not to leave Belfort totally devoid of protection. Bancroft gave the order that several regiments would be left behind, many of them made up of green troops led by newer officers. The cream of his army would be with him in the field, those that went north with him and Menard as well as those fighting to the east with Zander.

Part of the decision to leave a robust garrison was the fact that Michael Bainbridge was still out there somewhere. The rebel leader had been quiet in the last week after it was reported that their last raid had taken significant casualties. The last thing that Bancroft wanted to do was leave Belfort undefended for Michael to pillage while he was away. Those regiments staying behind would prevent that for as long as it took to defeat Easterbrook in the field while Zander did the same with the Tyroleans.

Whichever army achieved victory first would then march to join the other, overwhelming the last, remaining enemy and gaining total victory of all of Bancroft's foes.

Bancroft lived for that day, when all of his enemies were dead and gone and he stood triumphant as the undisputed leader of all of the known world. That day was rapidly approaching when all four vectors acknowledged him as Emperor and leader, when all other resistance had long since faded into irrelevance.

He just needed one last campaign. He needed to defeat the Fourthies on land and by sea, and deal a killing blow to the Tyroleans. Bancroft hoped Zander was up to the task, but in the event he wasn't, he just needed the man to block off Belfort long enough for Bancroft and Menard to defeat Easterbrook and then reinforce Zander.

The last great gamble on the war was now in place. Two mornings later, Bancroft and Menard left with the bulk of their army, marching north toward the great metropolis of Lockhaven.

They marched to an uncertain future. Nobody knew how many Fourthies would greet them in Lockhaven, or even the general size of Easterbrook's army.

What Bancroft did know was that he would meet that army with overwhelming force. He would make sure that those men foolish enough to step foot on the Javan continent would be killed for even thinking about such a transgression.

He also looked forward to getting a chance to face Jack Easterbrook in a one-on-one contest. In a way, such a fight had been building for many years now, and now it would finally come to fruition.

That is, as long as Reynolds didn't kill him first.

*****

"A fine day to be sailing, isn't it?"

Jack had to chuckle as he made his way across the deck of theDestiny, finding Russ near the bow and looking to the east. Seeing Russ in good spirits was a great change of pace, mostly because the admiral had been fretting for the majority of the voyage.

But now, they were only about two weeks outside of Java. The last month had been eerily quiet in terms of action, with no major engagements to report with the Javans. Of course, there had been the occasional skirmish, usually with planes overhead, but it was a far cry from the massive engagement that Jack had been expecting.

With only two weeks left until they reached Java, there was actually the thought that they just might get there without putting the transports in mortal danger.

Jack hoped that his luck would continue to hold, and if the skies above him were any indication, it just might.

Russ was beaming as Jack settled in beside him. "Beautiful day, right? That's one benefit to these northern climates. It's the middle of summer and it's still warm and breezy. If you were in the south of Galicia right now, it would be muggier than a baby's armpit."

Jack started to laugh. "It's like that in Ruthenia at this time of year too, which is just to the south of Java. In fact, we're very close to the land of Occitania, which is just to the north. This might be the warmest temperatures they feel all year. But there is nothing in the world that can prepare you for an Occitanian winter. Coldest you've ever felt in your life, I guarantee it."

"I remember one time when I was a much younger man, when Marcus Rosdahl was still in charge of Galicia," started Russ. "The cruiser I was serving on had to run a new envoy up to the country of Frisia, which is a good distance north of Galicia. About twice the distance as it is from Kalmar to Marmora, except nearly straight north. Talk about frigid? You couldn't even go outside because it was that bad. Those people are bundled up in animal skins for nearly the entire year. I was told the weather improves greatly in the summer but that just means that it rains instead of snows for about a month. I can't imagine living in such climates."