Major Greg Vaughn tapped his fingers against his desk in a steady rhythm. The report in front of him was especially vexing and his frustration showed in the movement of his fingers. He had hoped that the tiny race of people who attacked them earlier today would put up a repeat of that fight once they had returned to the beach, but the reports for the evening watch were all quiet.

He knew he ought to have been happy that his men weren't put into danger, yet something prevented him from being so. A nagging suspicion in his mind that the key to getting off this island was further contact with the race. Perhaps they could figure out more with another interaction.

Greg slipped the report in a folder and resumed his attention briefly to the watch schedule for tomorrow when there was a knock at the door.

"Come on in," he yelled out.

A flash of dark hair appeared in the crack between the door and the frame, slipping inside his quarters before rushing to shut the door in a hasty way. The woman leaned up against the closed door and turned the lock before puffing a strand of hair out of her face and offering a relieved smile.

"I didn't think you'd be coming tonight," said Greg, watching her green eyes as they locked on him.

"Oh, I most certainly plan on cumming tonight," said Brittany Noble, Abigail's deputy lieutenant. Ever since he had first laid eyes on the dark-haired deputy, Greg had wanted her. He wanted a chance to possess her and pleasure her in ways that would blow her mind. Thankfully, she had been receptive to his overtures, leading them both to carry on with their silent affair.

Brittany quickly crossed across the room and pulled his chair out from his desk. In a smooth motion, she plopped herself right down into his lap and rested her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm glad you were able to sneak away," said Greg, wrapping his arms around her lower back. "No one noticed you on your way down here, did they?"

Brittany shook her head. "Not a soul. Abigail has been asleep for the past hour, as is the rest of the ship. It's just me and you now," she said, as her finger traced the outline of his lips.

"Just the way I like it," said Greg with a grin. His fingers made quick work of the buttons on the side of her jacket. Brittany nuzzled against his neck, pressing soft kisses against it while he worked to uncover her. Finally, the jacket slipped off her shoulders to reveal her proud bustline.

"I feel like I've waited all day to see these again," said Greg hungrily, eyeing her body like the prize that it was.

Brittany tilted her head to the side and cupped her tits together. "Even though they're on the small side? They're nowhere near the size of the Fourthie woman from today."

Greg let slip a little chuckle. By this point, everyone on the ship had heard the story of the heavily-endowed native woman from earlier today. It had spawned its own series of jokes among the men and envy amongst some of the women of the crew.

"No, they're not. But they're perfect for you," he said with a smile before leaning in to capture her nipple with his mouth. Brittany gasped at the treatment and pulled his head in closer to her body.

"I bet you'd love to fuck the tits on her, wouldn't you? Those huge tits would feel so good encased around your cock, don't you think?" she asked.

Greg pulled back and smirked. "It sounds like you'd like watching that just as much as I'd like doing it."

She shrugged playfully. "Maybe. I do think it's rather . . . hot."

"Preferably a live one though, okay?"

She smacked his shoulder. "Well, of course!" Then she leaned in for another kiss. "I bet you would like it if one of them was here with us right now. Then you get double the amount of holes to fuck. Would you like that?"

"I had no idea you were so kinky," said Greg. He couldn't deny the thought turned him on. His cock was now pressing tightly against his trousers and he was sure Brittany could feel it poking her from below.

"Variety is the spice of life," said Brittany with a devastatingly sexy grin. She reached between them and grabbed his cock, giving it several squeezes through his trousers. "Let's set him free, shall we?"

There was a rush of activity as the both of them scrambled to pull their respective trousers down. Once his cock was free and pointing upward in excitement, Greg gestured for the sexy brunette to return to her spot on his lap. Brittany shook the last part of her trousers free from her leg and rushed to resume her seat. This time, his enlarged cock slipped right between her ass.

"So close, Major. Yet so far," said Brittany in a high-pitched voice as she reached around behind her. Greg nearly hissed when she gripped his bare member and lined him up. Plunging her hips down, he slipped inside her velvety folds easily and both of them groaned at the exquisite feel of the other's body.

"I needed that so badly after today," moaned Brittany, wiggling her bottom against his lap.

"You happened to come to the right place," said Greg with a smirk as her hips began to bump against his own.

"You fill me so well. I wanted to fuck you as soon as you got back on the ship today with those Fourthies. You looked so damn good climbing up that ladder all sweaty and exhausted," said Brittany.

Greg chuckled. "Fucking was the last thing on my mind at that moment."

"Even though you got to see those huge tits?"

"Yes, even then," he said with a playful eye roll.

"What about mine right now?" Brittany reached down to pinch her nipples in each hand.

"Fuck yes," he groaned, enthusiastically pushing his hips up to meet hers. Brittany whipped her hair back and began to ride him with skill, grinding her hips against his in a vigorous display of passion. She gripped his shoulders tightly, using his body as leverage to impale herself on his throbbing manhood.

"Mmm fuck, I love how your cock stretches me out," she moaned, pressing her body securely against his own.

"I'm not going to last long," panted Greg. "You feel so damn good."

"Keep fucking me please!"

Greg met her thrust for thrust as their rhythm increased, their shadows dancing along the wall. It was all he could do to maintain some semblance of focus as everything about the dark-haired woman seemed to turn him on. From the way her eyes fixed on his, to the way her hair swept against his shoulder, to the way her nipples pressed into his chest, he was completely awed by how attracted he was to her.

"Oh, I'm so close!" Brittany squealed, digging her fingernails into his back.

"Cum for me," he urged, using his hands to grip her ass and pull her down forcibly on his cock.

"Oh . . . oh . . . I'm . . . gonna cum!"

Brittany's mouth dropped open as she fell forward and collapsed against his chest. Greg let out a low groan as her pussy began to spasm around his unit, gently milking him in an all-out attempt to make him cum. It succeeded handily. Not a moment after her orgasm began to hit, he pushed in deep and began to unload inside her pussy.

"Oh, that's it. I can feel it. I can feel you squirting into me," said Brittany with a breathless moan. Her hips wiggled a little more, hoping to keep the secure lock on his body.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he groaned. His legs began to shake a moment later as his body recovered from orgasm.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a giggle.

He chuckled. "It's just too good."

"I'm glad you like it as much as I do." She winked and slipped off his lap.

"Leaving already?"

"I have a watch tonight, unfortunately," she said while grabbing her trousers. "Or else I'd spend the night."

Greg smirked. "Can't you pawn it off on another deputy?"

She giggled. "I already pawned off last night's watch and they're suspicious of me for that one alone! I won't be able to explain two nights in a row."

"All right, all right. Another night then."

She buttoned up her jacket and then leaned down to kiss him. "That is unless I can convince another one of the girls to come down here with me next time," she whispered against his breath. "Then you can have us both."

"I think you just made me hard again," said Greg while looking down at his lap.

"Good, I want you to be excited for the next time," she said, kissing him before pulling away. Brittany walked over to his door and stopped right before pulling it open. "Sweet dreams, Major."

"Night, trouble," said Greg with a chuckle.

*****

The next day passed by largely without any action. Freeing the Tiger from the sandbar still remained a task just beyond their current capabilities—not that they hadn't tried. In the morning, Jack directed a large group of sailors out to the beaches with axes in another attempt to free the destroyer. With the perimeter secured by the marines on either side, they were safe to fell several trees, most of them landing safely onto the sand below.

Next, most of the limbs and branches were stripped off and the trunks narrowed to act like a natural wedge. Each tree required at least twenty-five men and nearly three trunks were carved into wedges for the next task. As the Valiant provided yet another attempt at a tow, the men buried the trunks into the side of the ship's hull to free her.

Below them, Jack heard the sound of the ship whining as it shifted along the deep sand and rock. The scraping of the hull from the rocks below provided hope that they would soon free her, but to everyone's disappointment, the ship remained rooted in its spot.

"We're never going to get off this bloody sandbar," muttered Jack as the last combined towing/wedging effort failed.

"What else could we possibly do?" asked Vicky while biting her lip. "Call back to Quiller's Cove?"

"We might have to but that would take weeks before they got something else back out here. Longer if there's nothing there that could tow something as large as the Tiger while having a shallow enough draft not to get stuck. We might be here for some time."

Vicky gritted her teeth. "If that's the only option we have, we'll have to take it."

"Not the only option," said Jack softly.

"No. Don't even go there. That's not something I would consider," she said, shaking her head vehemently.

"It may be the only option we have. Especially if we keep getting attacked," said Jack.

She turned to face him, a steely determination in her gaze. "There must be something we can do."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him to motion to the sailors below to come back aboard for a regroup. They were running out of options and without a new idea soon, they'd have to call back to base for aid.

"Man, do you look pissed."

Jack turned around to see Greg walking up to the railing and resting against it.

"Not pissed. Just wondering what the hell to do about this ship," said Jack.

"I take it the wedging idea didn't work?"

Jack shook his head.

"Damn. I'd hate to be in your shoes right now," said Greg with a grin.

"Thanks, dick," quipped Jack, earning a chuckle from the other man.

"You want to take a breather for a while? I'm about to head to shore and get my afternoon situation report from the patrol. Want to come with me?"

"Sure, why not. I'm obviously not doing anything good here," said Jack with a simple nod.

*****

Corporal Rodney Anderson waited until the small launch boat nestled into the shore before hopping over the side. Standing up straight, he yawned at the thought of another perimeter patrol. His first two patrols—yesterday afternoon and early this morning—were beyond quiet and just a little boring. Yet, until their ship was freed, there would be no end in sight to the patrols.

"Did you not get enough beauty rest, Anderson?"

Rodney looked over to see the determined smirk of Sergeant Brandon Michaels. While technically outranking him, Michaels was only a single grade above him and the two men had known each other since their enlistment began ten years ago.

"Luckily for us, it's almost time for my rest now," quipped back Rodney.

The sergeant pursed his lips. "Don't get too relaxed out there. You know those people are still out there. Don't forget what they did to the sailors yesterday."

"I doubt they'd find a way to mess with marines though. They should know better than to start shit with us," said Rodney proudly.

"It's that kind of attitude that'll get you killed," said Brandon in a serious tone.

"Just relax, will you? We'll protect the perimeter like the chief ordered and then get some shut-eye once we're back on the ship."

The sergeant let out an approving nod. "Just watch your back out there. And if you see anything, call for help."

Rodney nodded his head several times and then started into the forest. He walked carefully, watching each step in the thick foliage until he reached the picket line, finding another Marine positioned next to a large tree.

"Harrison, your time's up. Head back to the ship," said Rodney, setting his rifle next to the tree along with his pack.

Harrison sat up and stretched, reaching his hands high into the air. "Man, it's about time. I thought I was beginning to see shit out there."

"Anything I need to know about?" asked Rodney.

Harrison shook his head. "There were some weird rustling sounds just beyond that low hill over there, but they stopped about a half hour ago. Haven't seen shit though in my entire four hour watch."

"Good enough for me. Go get some rest. You'll be back on for the early morning shift."

Harrison grabbed his rifle and slung it over his shoulder. "Hope your time is just as quiet as mine!" With that, the young marine disappeared through some bushes on his way back to shore.

"Great, here we go. Four hours of miserable fun," muttered Rodney as he hopped into the foxhole. Setting his rifle to the side, he first took in his bearings, looking around at the trees and landscape in front of him. This stretch of the forest looked much like the others he had been in earlier. Internally, he wondered if all stretches of forest looked the same if you spent enough time there.

Sighing to himself, Rodney pulled his helmet down low on his brow and reclined into the foxhole, trying to get comfortable. Crossing his arms around his torso, he sat and listened for something to develop.

The first half hour went by uneventfully. There were no sounds except for some random, human noises within the perimeter—mostly coughs, sneezes or grunts.

It was about forty-five minutes into watch that Rodney noticed a bush about thirty yards in front of his position begin to shake in a most unnatural way. The bush occupied the low rising that had been identified by Harrison before he left, and Rodney found himself training his eyes to watch the movement. Because of the angle, he couldn't see beyond the bush, and it remained too thick to see what was causing the rustling.

Just as he shifted to grab his rifle, the rustling stopped abruptly and the bush stopped moving. Rodney furrowed his brow in confusion, his hand still gripped tightly on the rifle to his side.

"What in the hell is that?" he whispered to himself.

Something was now making a noise just beyond the bush. It was a low-pitched sound and it immediately made him sit up and pay attention. The noise kept getting louder and louder until eventually a flash of red and yellow just beyond the bush caught his gaze. Suddenly, Rodney found himself looking into the eyes of many different men.

"Shit, we're being attacked!" yelled Rodney right as something small and hard hit him just below his right eye. The corporal screamed in pain, falling forward as the entire world went red. Around him, screams of the native warriors surrounded his position as they rushed forward and attacked the entire perimeter. The sounds of gunfire opened up all around him but just as quickly, the guns fell silent as the screams of men pierced the late afternoon air.

Rodney hazarded a look at his hands with his remaining eye, almost fainting at the sight of so much blood.

His blood.

He reached out to grab his rifle to mount a defense but found himself flailing about with only limited control over his limbs.

Rolling over to his side, he struggled to find his rifle. His hands covered the ground around him in search of the weapon until they found something warm to land on. Rodney looked up with his bloody face and found him looking right at a native warrior peering down at him. He had grabbed the man's foot and the native had cocked his slingshot, aiming directly for his face.

"Please don't shoot," begged Rodney, holding his hands up in front of him. The warrior simply sneered in his response.

He never heard the sound of the warrior releasing the shot.

*****

"That's about it, Major. It's been quiet so far on this shift. We'll send along another report in the next hour," replied the steely staff sergeant from his command post on the left bank of the channel.

"Good work, Bates. Keep me informed," said Greg with a crisp salute as Jack looked out across the small inlet to the beached Tiger.

"Glad to hear it's been quiet for the men so far," said Jack as soon as Greg had rejoined him. "Although I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of those natives."

Greg chuckled. "Let them come if they dare. My boys will be ready. Anyway, let's get back to the ship. I'm starving and could use a meal right about—"

The sound of a bloodcurdling scream stopped both men in their tracks, and they whipped around to face the forest. All around the defensive perimeter the sound of the native war cry erupted followed by several bursts of the automatic NT-12 rifle.

"What the fuck is that?" swore Greg as he quickly slung his rifle off his shoulder.

"It looks like they're back! Let's get in there and help the men out!" yelled Jack as he clutched his own rifle in hand and darted into the forest.

"I'm right behind you!"

Both of the men slipped into the heavy foliage toward the sounds of screams and gunfire. It wasn't hard to locate where the action was going down and the muzzle flashes from the rifles led them right to a small outpost not far from the beach.

"What the hell is this? The perimeter was set a good fifty yards forward from here," asked Greg as they slipped into a small ditch occupied by two marines as well as two dead ones.

"They got us surrounded, Major!" yelled the panicked marine. "Half of my squad is dead. They managed to get behind us and shoot at our backs!"

"Get me in front of these fucks," growled Greg. "It's time for some retribution!"

"Look just on ahead. There they are!"

Jack grabbed a rifle from one of the dead marines and brought the scope up to his eye, firing off several rounds at the advancing warriors. From what he could see, these men were dressed in much the same way as the dead warriors from the day before.

Wave after wave of warriors assaulted their small position, each of them getting mowed down in turn while the four men fired their weapons at the advanced parties. Eventually, the natives wised up and stopped charging, preferring to hide behind trees and fire their slingshots from a place of protection.

"They're getting smarter! We need to flank that position if we're going to stop this," said Jack, pointing to a small grove of trees that held a group of about ten warriors.

"Jack, you and I are going this way," said Greg, pointing to the left. "You two, give us some covering fire until we get there!"

"Yes, sir!" roared the marines as they peaked up beyond the ditch and began to pour some lead against the tree.

Both men rushed about to another position off to the left, temporarily safe from fire as the pinned down natives clung to their safety. Jack was able to find a small grove of trees some fifty feet away and in so doing, found a vantage point that allowed him to see the side of the warriors near the tree.

"Let's show them how we do it in Java," whooped Greg as his rifle opened up fire. The startled natives were caught completely by surprise as five of them went down with his first bursts of lead. The rest of the group never recovered, becoming wiped out almost to the man from the vicious counterattack. As the last man hit the grass below, their barrels fell silent.

"I haven't had this much fun in years," said Greg, wearing a crazed grin on his face.

More gunfire erupted from deeper in the forest in a position that couldn't have been more than a hundred yards away.

"Hope you're ready for more of it because it sounds like they aren't quitting just yet," said Jack as he rushed up from his position.

They followed the sounds of gunfire to find another foxhole nearby. Jack could tell by the depth of the hole that this was one of the prepared positions, the original perimeter of this bank of the shore. Inside was a sight out of pure hell. Four wounded or dead marines lying prone against the ground while another one attended to the only man that was still moving. One of the poor bastards had taken a shot directly to the face. The damage to it alone meant the shot probably occurred at a close range.

The only man still capable of holding a rifle was firing repeatedly, trying to prevent the natives from overrunning their position. Jack and Greg hopped into the hole and opened fire on the attacking warriors.

"Goddamn, I'm sure glad to see you two!" gushed the marine in between rifle bursts. "I thought we were goners there for a second!"

"How long have you been pinned down?" asked Jack, firing a few bursts of his own at one particularly fat warrior who just rushed out from behind a tree and stood poised to release his slingshot. Instead, the man crumpled easily and the slingshot fell harmlessly to the ground.

"It felt like a while but probably no more than five minutes. They just keep coming, sir! Every one that I kill seems to make two more appear! And I'm running low on ammunition."

"Here, take this," said Greg, grabbing the rifle from one of the dead men and tossing it to the marine. He caught it in a hurry and switched out, opening fire once more.

"Keep your eyes peeled! They may soon figure out they can't take us head on and attempt a flank!" yelled Jack.

"Damnit, look up!" roared Greg as his rifle swung toward the branch in front of them. One of the natives had tried to climb the tree and sat poised with his slingshot to take them out. He nearly managed to get off the shot before a round slammed into his gut, making him fall from the tree.

"Good shooting, Major," yelled Jack as he mopped up the rest of the surviving war band. Just as quickly as they had appeared, the natives began to melt away and soon their barrels fell silent.

"Is that it? Are they done?" asked Greg, holding his rifle in a ready position.

"Let's hope so. We need the brief respite to reload," answered Jack. Seeing that the marine in front of him was hunched over his rifle, Jack placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Better reload now while you have the chance, son."

When the man didn't respond, Jack pulled back on his shoulder. He nearly flinched when he saw the man's face. The marine who had just been fighting had a large bloody gash that ran the length of his cheek. The look on his face easily told Jack that he was dead. He let go of his grip on the man and he crumpled to the ground beneath him.

"We're going to make these bastards pay for all the marines they killed today," growled Greg. "We should check on the wounded." He cocked his head back to the marine that was still alive just behind them. "How are those boys doing back there, marine?"

When the man didn't respond, Greg turned around. "Did they get you too, man? Why so quiet? Oh, shit."

Jack looked at the major from the corner of his eye and saw him begin to lower his weapon with a look of disgust and shock on his face. Turning fully around, Jack's mouth fell open at the very sight in front of him.

They had indeed been surrounded. About ten different warriors stood a mere feet from them. About two each had their slingshots trained on Jack and Greg, while the others watched their backs. The serious looks on their yellow and red-painted faces suggested that one wrong move meant instant death.

The man in front, who was obviously the oldest of the group with his long, grizzled beard, gestured several times to Jack and Greg and more specifically their rifles. From his gesture, it was determined he wanted them to drop their weapons.

"All right, you old fuck," muttered Greg as his NT-12 hit the floor. Jack followed suit shortly after and once their rifles were firmly on the ground, the small band pulled them out of the foxhole along with the only other marine that was still alive, a seriously wounded man named Ulysses.

The natives stripped them of everything they had, including their radios, and they were left with only the clothes on their backs. Silently, restraint cords were tired around all three pairs of hands, even though only two of them were in any condition to resist. Jack noted how it would almost be comical to see the small race of people restraining them as their size difference alone ensured that even though the men were under control, they were still targeted by the slingshots.

Around them, the sounds of gunfire started to die down as the group began to march deeper into the forest. At first, Ulysses was merely dragged by his arms by a pair of warriors since he was unable to move on his own strength but no more than a mile from their foxhole, he was dropped and the man fell to the ground.

Jack watched as one of the warriors leaned over the wounded man to take his pulse before looking up to the elder, bearded warrior. He then shook his head from side to side.

"Leave him if he is dead," said the elder man. At once the rest of the natives left the man in the mud and resumed the march.

"How do you know he's dead? Maybe he's just unconscious!" yelled Greg.

"Unconscious men still have pulses," muttered the elder as they resumed the march. "He did not."

"So what! He's under my command! You must bring him!" Greg tried to shrug his way out of the restraints causing two more warriors to attempt to get control of him once more.

"We don't need any dead weight. Leave him and let's go," said the elder as they dragged the struggling Greg along with them.

Jack looked at the elder man. "You speak our tongue."

Slowly, he nodded. "All Lishkerrans speak the common tongue just as you humans do, yes. Now it is time for silence, Galician."

Jack pursed his lips, wondering what the hell a Galician was but didn't ask any more questions. The feel of the sling pressed against his back indicated the stakes were already too high.

The small group continued their walk through the forest. Jack would get glimpses of the sun shining through overhead, and based on its position, he deemed them to still be walking in a westerly course to the other end of the island. It took a good hour to reach their ultimate destination, their pace only speeding up once they left the dead Ulysses behind. Finally stepping out from the forest, both men gasped at the sight in front of them.

Having reached the western sea which they had cruised along just two days prior, they found a stunning city perched right along a small cliff. It was unlike any city that Jack had seen before, having no equivalent in Java or any of the Eastern nations. Perched along the cliff, the city was a decent size, being large enough to house several thousand people. Along the land approaches to the city occupied a semi-circular defensive wall that couldn't have been more than seven feet tall. Along the entire wall stood guard towers spaced in intervals all the way to the coast.

Inside, Jack could see what looked like a giant palace right in the middle of the settlement, unique for having a large thatched roof and gigantic wooden walls. It dominated the entire settlement and only the small hovels around the flanks of the palace served as a reminder that other people lived there too.

"How? How is this possible?" Jack asked, breaking the silence. "We sailed along the coast and didn't see any of this!"

The elder turned to glare at him. "We have ways to prevent ourselves from becoming extinct at the expense of humans. That includes shielded our cities from prying eyes. They only become visible when we want them to. Otherwise, they'll appear to your eyes as pristine nature, not worthy of a second look."

Jack stood gaping in amazement, wondering what kind of magic could have removed the entire city from their view. The group began to move again, approaching the main eastern gate and entrance into the city. Along the walls, warriors stopped to gawk at the sight of the humans being led into captivity. Jack noted that they all wore the same red and yellow paint scheme on their bodies.

Once inside the gate, the party began its procession directly to the heart of the city—the grand palace. It dominated the view from the main street and far dwarfed the size of the hovels lining their way. From what Jack could tell, the tiny structures seemed to be divided into their own distinct neighborhoods. Many of them were pitifully unadorned from the outside, being simple dwellings, but the main scene of activity seemed to be the marketplace.

The marketplace lined both sides of the main thoroughfare through town. At one point, the narrow street opened up into a giant plaza as merchants and small market booths crammed into the space. Everywhere Jack looked, he could see the hustle of the marketplace with various goods being sold as well as foods to eat.

Once inside the marketplace, Jack and Greg noticed the ordinary people of the race once more. Most of them weren't dressed like the warriors they had seen and many of them just wore a simple loincloth without the distinctive coloring pattern. Even the common women went bare-chested just like their warrior counterparts.

"You think they're always so modest?" Jack whispered to the marine.

"From what I can see, that dead native woman we have on the ship wasn't unique. They're all stacked!"

Greg was right. Every single woman that crossed their paths had the distinctly sexual shape of the dead woman from the day before. All of them overflowed with gigantic breasts taking up a huge portion of their torsos, along with wide childbearing hips. Jack felt like he should be averting his eyes at seeing all the exposed flesh but the women seemed to go out of their way to approach the captives and divert attention to their luscious mammaries.

"I think they like the attention," grumbled Greg as several of them lined the path to the palace, pushing one another to get a better look at the humans.

"I guess this is their first time seeing humans too," said Jack, nodding as several of the women tried to make eye contact. Several of the braver ones even reached to grab the front of the men's trousers, brazenly making contact with their cocks.

"Somehow, I kind of doubt that," said Greg. "This is getting stranger by the minute."

The party finally approached the palace in the middle, marked by a grand entryway that included a set of stairs that led into a massive reception hall. Yet, instead of entering the hall, the group was led to a side door that started them down a long, dark passageway. At the end, a small holding cell marked by iron bars awaited them.

Both of them were pushed into the cell and the large iron gate was slammed shut, locking them in place. All of the warriors began to exit apart from two which served as the outside guard. The elder was the last to leave, watching both of them with apprehensive eyes. Finally, he turned heel and began to depart as well.

"Wait a second," started Jack, holding up his hands. "We didn't come here intending any harm. We only fired upon your people once we were attacked!"

The elder shook his head slightly. "That doesn't matter. We've had enough experiences with your kind and we know what you're like. We know how you think and what you value. We all know what happens when humans visit Lishkerra."

Jack looked over to Greg in confusion and finally it was the marine that spoke up next. "We're not from this part of the world and we know nothing about Lishkerra. What happens exactly?"

The elder sighed and pursed his lips. He seemed to be debating whether to take the bait or leave the chamber. Finally, he opened up again. "That may be so, Javan. We haven't seen your kind here in quite a while. But even so, you humans are all the same. You come to our island and try to steal our women to use as your sexual slaves. You kill our menfolk—husbands, fathers, and brothers—and decimate our society. You try to steal the land, establishing your own settlements and pushing our own people to the very edges of our own homeland. It's a tale older than time, older than this very island. What once used to be a vibrant island filled with over twenty different cities of Lishkerrans is now down to one single, solitary settlement."

"We didn't come here to hunt you or steal your women," said Jack. "We aren't from this part of the world. We're officers of the Javan Navy and we've come here to ask for your help. To ask for an alliance."

The elder sneered at them. "That's some story, Galician, but Lishkerrans don't make alliances, especially with humans."

"Why do you keep calling me that? What's a Galician?" asked Jack.

The elder stared at him before finally ignoring the question and continuing on. "I am going to report your capture to the rest of the Elder Council of Lishkerra and they will decide your fate. If we believe that you are here for nefarious purposes like the disruption of our way of life, you won't live to see many more days."

"You don't need to kill us," began Greg, approaching the iron bars. "Perhaps we can learn from each other. Our species are still very similar to each other, despite the small differences. Perhaps we can learn to be friends instead of enemies?"

"As I said already, Lishkerra has no need for friendships with double-crossing humans. No, we have but one use for humans but alliances will not be it. There will be no peace between our peoples."

"What use is that if you don't mind me asking?" asked Jack.

The elder opened his mouth to speak but fell silent. His eyes darted back and forth between the two humans for several moments before he spoke again. "It makes little difference to you now."

"Will you let the others with us go? The other humans? Can our deaths secure their free passage?" Jack asked.

The elder turned to depart. About ten feet away, he finally turned to face them. "No. They too will be destroyed just as you will be. Our way of life is too important to risk on the word of humans. We can't risk that they won't return with more of them and complete the job you started yesterday. Enough Lishkerrans have died already."

With that, the elder turned once more and left the cell. All that remained was the iron and the two warriors on guard. Near total darkness enveloped the small cell, ensuring that the two men could barely see each other.

"Well, this is a right good mess we're in," said Greg with a heavy sigh. "Never thought I'd be the one to end up in a prison cell."

"There's so many questions unanswered though," started Jack. "How'd they make their city disappear? Who is hunting them? How can we warn the rest of the ships about their intentions?"

"I don't know we're going to get any answers in here. It sounds like they've made up their mind about what to do with us."

Jack sighed. "There's got to be a way out of here." He rattled the bars in front of him, earning a sneer from one of the guards.

"Maybe we have relief coming. Maybe they're putting together a relief force of marines to come after us," said Greg. "They'll figure out quickly that we're gone and that our bodies aren't amongst the dead."

Jack thought about it for a few moments before nodding. "We can hope. But how will they find us? We didn't even notice the city when we passed by. Even if they did get all the way out here, who's to say they would see anything more than just rocks and dirt? We might be on our own with this one, Greg."

"They won't stop looking for us. This island isn't that big that they'll just give up without finding bodies," said Greg. "Perhaps if they find Ulysses, it will lead them on the path here. They dropped him about midway back to the city."

"Something he said about being hunted really bothered me though," started Jack. "They seem to be very familiar with humans but I highly doubt they've had any dealings with the Eastern nations of Java, Ruthenia, and Occitania."

"He did call me Javan though. Sounds like he knew enough about us. And what was with him calling you Galician? What the hell is that?"

Jack shrugged. "I have no idea. But I have a feeling that we aren't the only humans in the Vector. I have a feeling there are more nations located within."

"Well, duh, of course," said Greg with a chuckle. "Where do you think the Ancestors came from?"

Jack found himself chuckling along with his friend. The Ancestors were the legendary founders of Java over two thousand years ago. There were stories told to young children that the Ancestors originated in the Fourth Vector and sailed across the great ocean to settle the three continents. Yet, just like other tales about the Vector, it remained a story to either entertain or frighten young children—not taken seriously by adults.

"This may end up being the highlight of this whole mission, provided we get out alive. Stumbling upon a nation of humanoid creatures. The emperor would sure love that," said Jack.

"Provided he doesn't make us kill them first," grunted Greg.

"If he's desperate enough for allies, he'll think twice before ordering any violence. Especially with this war that's brewing."

"My hope now is just to be alive when the war starts. At the rate we're going, even that's doubtful at this point, Jack."

"There's got to be a way, Greg. We've got to find a way out of here. We didn't come all this way to die in some Fourthie execution ceremony."

The marine grunted and fell silent once more. Jack tried to rack his brain, thinking back to all his lessons at the academy, all those war scenarios and trainings. He mentally dissected each lecture from Admiral Bancroft that he could and still kept coming up short. There just wasn't much he could do unarmed and locked away. Perhaps a situation would present itself eventually, but for now, he had to hope and pray for an opening that would allow them to escape.

There had to be a way out of here. Or else their mission was truly at an end.

*****

Abigail found herself pacing around the bridge of the Destiny, eagerly clutching the radio in her hand and waiting for news. Every time the radio crackled with someone's voice, she prayed for word that they'd found the missing marines and most importantly, Jack. Yet as the night went on, no sightings or discoveries were recorded of note, and she felt her despair growing at the fate of the handsome commander.

She hated when her mind went to that place, but she was in no state to deny her attraction to the unorthodox leader. After all, that sort of attraction had been instantaneous and had led to an intense night of passion between them that had haunted her dreams ever since. Too many nights she had woken with a start, aroused from memories of her night with Jack and not able to do anything about it.

It was easy to ignore when she knew she'd be able to see his face first thing in the morning, but now it was exceptionally difficult knowing that she might never see his face again.

Even the rest of the bridge was quiet. She had expected it from her sister the most, knowing she had also spent her own intimate moments with Jack. Anna's face was a maelstrom of confusion and sadness, huddled over her command station and watching the radio with eagerness. Even Kyle and Stephanie were notably silent, both having bonded with their commander in their own way. It would be a disastrous start to their mission to lose Jack at the very beginning of it.

"When is the next patrol due back?" Abigail asked, finally getting tired of waiting for a radio transmission that was never coming.

Stephanie looked down at her watch. "Just another five minutes, ma'am."

Those five minutes took an eternity to lapse. Abigail found herself staring at the trees in a trance-like state before the door to the bridge rattled open and Captain John Reynolds, the second-in-command of the Marines, stepped inside.

"Any news, Captain? What's the word right now?" she asked, quickly approaching his side.

John removed his helmet and began to shake his head in an ominous manner. "I'm afraid we still haven't found anything. I have the men out searching but we are stretched very thin. After the attack, I had to beef up the security perimeter as well as send out search parties. Just about every marine we have is out on shore right now."

"And you still haven't found them?" she pressed.

John shook his head once more. "There's no sign of either of them. We are also missing one marine who's body we haven't found yet. I have the men out searching as wide as they can, but I can't send them any further out of fear of being ambushed in the dark."

"We have to keep looking. We can't give up until we find them," interrupted Anna, coming to stand right next to her sister.

"We might have better luck in the morning. I doubt we'll find anything in the darkness right now."

"Keep up the search, Captain. Please keep me informed and up to speed. I want to know any news the moment that you do," said Abigail.

"Will do, ma'am," said John with a salute before leaving the bridge.

Abigail returned to the window and looked back out into the darkness. She hated to leave Jack out there, not knowing if he was okay, wounded, or even being tortured by the natives for the attack on them. She didn't even want to think about what he might be seeing, or thinking, or feeling at this very moment.

Just hold on, Jack. We'll find you, I promise.