The command radio at Jack's waist crackled through the quiet dining room as a garbled message tried to get through. Jack hurried to grab the radio and press it against his ear, trying to make out just who was on the other side. By how broken the message was, he was almost positive it wasn't coming from the Destiny floating just offshore.

"Jack, can you hear me?"

"I hear you loud and clear. What's going on?" asked Jack as the others watched the radio with mixed looks of trepidation and worry.

"Jack, it's Cory. Daimanos is firing on us! The Valiant is under attack and we've had to break out from the harbor."

Jack squeezed the radio tightly and then looked over to the solemn king of West Sorella. Heron hung his head and closed his eyes, while Nikias gulped visibly at the news of their premonition coming true. It now seemed that he had finally found out the true extent of Daimanos' duplicity.

"How bad is it?" asked Jack slowly. "What are your casualties?"

"I don't know yet, Jack," answered Cory. "But I think Luke might be among them. They had our position dialed in. We've taken several major hits including a direct hit on the first rear turret. It's bad, Jack."

Jack clutched the radio closer to his chest as his head fell. Not Luke, he thought to himself. Not my old friend.

"Are you away from danger now? Are you out to sea?"

"Aye, Jack. We just escaped the port, and we're finally out of gun range. We're floating off shore and readying the remaining turrets to go back in and shell the city."

Jack shook his head. "No, Cory, don't do that. I don't want any other nasty surprises that Daimanos may have planned, especially with our forces separated. I want you to come join us over here in West Sorella."

"West Sorella? Have you taken it over then?"

Jack looked up to see the faces of Heron and Nikias both looking intently at the radio. "Not exactly, Cory. Let's just say we've been duped by Daimanos. There's much to explain and no time to do it right now. I want you to radio over to Abigail and get her position. Rendezvous with us as soon as you can."

"You got it, Jack," said Cory. "Stay safe out there."

"And you, Cory," answered Jack before putting the command radio back to his waist.

Heron was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, Jack. Even after all these years, my brother still surprises me with how quickly he is to act in bad faith."

Jack looked up with a determined stare. "He'll pay for this, Heron. I don't care what we have to do but too many of my men are dead now because of Daimanos. I'll make him pay greatly for every Javan life he's taken today."

Heron nodded solemnly. "Will you fight with us then, Jack? Will you join us and help to free our people?"

Before Jack could answer, a knock came at the front door of the house. Heron nodded to Nikias who quickly crossed the distance and threw open the door. One of Heron's men quickly stepped inside and settled his gaze on the king.

"Your Majesty, Daimanos' forces are gathering just outside the wall."

Heron nodded quickly. "So it begins," he said in a low voice. He then turned to face Jack. "I need to get to my troops. We don't have much time."

"No, you don't," said Jack with a subtle head shake. "But you do have an ally."

The Javan commander walked over to the West Sorellan king and offered his hand. "We'll fight with you, Heron. We can't let his actions bring a dark cloud of misery over this island. Over your homeland. There are too many good men dead because of Daimanos."

Heron's eyes turned misty before he reached out and took Jack's hand firmly. "It would be an honor to fight by your side, Jack."

As the men shook hands on their new alliance, the sounds of gunfire finally pierced the open air. The stark reminder that they were in the middle of a battlefield became once again apparent as the four of them hurried to the door. Jack found the marines settled in their defense positions, many of them alert and on guard at the sounds of war just over the horizon.

"Marines, on us!" yelled Greg while waving them in to see Jack.

Once the entire group surrounded the two men, Jack raised his hand to catch their attention.

"There's a lot going on right now and no time to explain it. The short story is that we will now be defending the city. The West Sorellans are going to bring us to their defensive wall, and I need you to take up positions behind it and defend the city. Believe me, when this is all over, I will explain the sudden change in our mission, but we need to move out. Now!"

"Now, marines, let's march!" yelled Greg as all of them snapped to attention and began to march as one team, following on the tail of Heron's warriors. They marched out of the plaza along a main thoroughfare toward the eastern edge of the town as the sounds of gunfire rang out louder and louder. Every few minutes, an explosion would destroy a nearby building or throw up a mound of dirt and dust from a missed shot. For the men of the Javan marines, it was just another day of fighting with their brothers.

Finally, they came upon a stout defensive wall guarding the perimeter of Heron's capital. On top of the wall, his remaining soldiers could be seen in full action, firing rapidly at a force just beyond their sight.

"Captain Reynolds, I want you to take your men and guard the southern approaches on that section," said Greg, using his finger to point out the ramparts where the men would hold. As that group of marines rushed forward, he turned to another captain. "Captain Buckwell, I want you to defend the northern approaches with B company."

"Yes, sir," yelled out Buckwell as he began to rush up the rampart on the northern side.

"What about you and me?" asked Greg. "Where do you want to position ourselves?"

Jack pointed straight ahead. "Let's get up there over the main gate. Heron's up there as well. I want to be in the thick of the action and get some more practice in with my shooting."

Greg smirked. "I hope that practice came in handy."

"We're about to find out!"

The two men quickly ascended to the main rampart over the gate, giving them their first real view of the hinterland before the city. Below them rushed in Daimanos' warriors. The first wave was in full swing, a mix of young men absentmindedly running toward the wall and taking no cover. They made the first targets, usually greatly exposed and closest to the shooters on the wall.

It was the second wave that was harder to get to. Most of them kneeled in the heavy grass just along the treeline across from the city. It was these men that guarded Daimanos' heavy artillery, which kept up a steady bombardment of the city walls. It was having a destructive effect on what remained of the defensive wall. One solid shot by a cannon could cause an entire chunk of stonework to wither to dust, slowly reducing the overall integrity of the wall.

"We got to start picking off the gunners of those cannons," yelled Greg over the roar of battle. "If we kill the gunners, we kill the cannons!"

"Let's make those bastards pay!" roared Jack in approval. He was thankful for having one of Greg's NT-12 rifles although the only reason he was able to get one was because it had been requisitioned off of one of the dead marines from the Lishkerran ordeal. Quickly, Jack lined up one of the heavy cannons in his sight, and pulled the trigger once the crosshairs centered on the cannon loader. The unfortunate man crumbled in his spot, leading a replacement to rush forward to take over his roll. Soon enough, Jack had felled that man as well.

"There's so many of these bastards," yelled Greg after several minutes. "As soon as I take one down, another one arrives to take his place!"

"Keep up your firing! Daimanos can't keep attacking this place forever."

On and on, Jack kept a steady rate of fire on those cannons closest to him. Eventually he was able to move on to another battery to begin taking out more gunners but felt dismayed when he returned to the original cannon to see it near full operation once more. Below them, the second wave of men was moving closer, crawling into the battlefield and using the grass as camouflage where they could.

Suddenly, Jack felt a presence right behind him. He looked back to see Heron sliding in beside him, his great musket falling alongside his own. "Good shooting there, Jack. We have to take out those guns!"

"We're doing all we can," said Jack. "There's too many of them. We can't kill them fast enough."

Heron nodded quickly. "Just keep up your steady rate of fire. It's all we can do right now!"

A large explosion took place on the wall just off to their right, throwing up the shattered remains of stone and dust and cloaking them all in a thick fog. Jack found himself coughing as the gritty taste seemed to fill his mouth, an awful mixture of earth and smoke. The rest of the world darkened as the light of the sun was blocked by the thick aftermath of the blast.

By the time he recovered, the second wave had moved much closer and were now laying a steady stream of fire on his position. It was enough to make him more conscious about sticking his head over the rampart to fire as the whizzing sounds of bullets came too close for comfort.

"Covering fire!" Greg yelled, seeming to read Jack's same thoughts.

"Covering fire for the major," yelled a nearby marine and the sounds of gunfire increased as a group of five men poured an intense shower of lead on the nearby East Sorellans.

"Ready? On my command. Three. Two. One. Now!" yelled Jack, as both he and Greg leapt up and started to fire rapidly at the front ranks only mere yards from the wall. Those front ranks of East Sorellans had already been caught by surprise by the covering fire by the nearby group of marines and now that they were getting it from two directions, the attack quickly melted away. Many of them ran back headlong into the forest just as quickly as they had emerged, and for a short while, there weren't any East Sorellans left on the battlefield in front of them, earning them a much needed respite.

"How are you guys doing over there?" Greg called out to the nearby marines.

"Not bad, but we're low on ammo," said one of the men, tapping at all that remaining of his clip. "If they keep coming, we might run out."

Greg nodded before standing up and running along the wall to another set of marines. Several of them were hunched over a fallen comrade, a particularly unlucky fellow who had taken a direct shot in the neck.

"We're doing fine, Major. You think they're going to come back?"

"Who knows. Keep your eyes open and keep your fire steady," advised Greg before continuing down the line and checking on all the men.

Greg finally returned to Jack’s position, crouching down low next to the commander. “The boys are holding up well, but I’m concerned about their ammunition levels. We may run out if they hit us any harder.”

Jack nodded and pulled at his command radio. “I have an idea how we can solve that. We just need a little more firepower. Abigail, come in, this is Jack. Can you hear me?”

The commander of the Destiny patched through a few moments later. “Jack, what’s going on in there?”

“I need your guns, and I need you to send the second wave of marines to shore. Can you send them into the city and have them approach the city’s defensive wall? We’re mounting our defense right here. It’s a long story, but we’re fighting with the West Sorellans now.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end but finally her voice came back with an uncertain tone. “I know, Jack. Cory already told me. I’ll give the order to launch now.”

“I need you too, Abigail. I need you to bring the ship closer to shore and help us out with the bombardment of the enemy positions.”

Her voice crackled over the radio. “What about any land-based artillery? Is it safe for us to come in?”

Jack grimaced. “Probably not but we need to relieve the pressure on the wall. If you can take out some of these guns with your own, we can end this.”

“Aye, Jack, we’ll move in closer,” said Abigail before her tone changed considerably. “Take care of yourself, please.”

Jack gave a light chuckle. “Yes, ma’am,” he radioed back.

As Jack latched the command radio back to his belt, he turned to look over the rampart at the battlefield below. Most of the dark cloud of the spent ammunition had begun to dissipate and for the first time since the battle began, he could get a clearer sight of what laid beyond the wall without anyone shooting at him.

It was a horrifying spectacle—even for someone who had been in a war and had seen death. Bodies littered the grassy plain, having fallen where they were struck. Their still figures and vacant expressions confirmed that life had long since left their bodies. What was even worse were the ones still alive. They used all the remaining strength and workable limps left to drag themselves back to the forest edge and apparent safety. Several of the men were able to limp back on working legs yet with shattered appendages. Jack saw one man who only had a bloody stump where his right arm had been, no doubt taken out by one of their heavier assault weapons.

Others crawled along brokenly, using what remained of their upper body strength to carry shattered legs along the meadow below. They were all marked by the telltale sign of their struggle—a bloody trail following in their wake. Several of the more noticeable trails never made it back to the front and expired well far from the tree line.

Greg nodded out to the few survivors out on the field. “What do you think? Should we use them as target practice?”

Jack quickly shook his head. “Not that I wouldn’t enjoy seeing their comeuppance after how many people they’ve killed but we’re low on ammunition as is. Their day will come.”

The marine nodded and once more carefully scanned the battlefield. “What do you think they’ll do next? Think they have enough men to throw at us again?”

Jack shrugged. “There seemed to be plenty of them that ran to the tree line after the last assault. My gut feeling is that they’re regrouping for another try.”

“I feel the same,” said Greg. “What do you want to do if they come back in force and we can’t stop them?”

Jack took a deep breath and gave a worried expression to his friend. “Let’s pray that it doesn’t come to that. If we try to execute a fighting retreat back to the ship, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Hold at all costs then,” said Greg quietly.

“Hopefully, the remaining marines get here soon.”

*****

Not far from the battlefield, two hooded characters stood perched along a low ridge just to the north of the West Sorellan city. One, an elderly man, was still winded from the ascent up the hill and sat against the base of a tree in an attempt to catch his breath. Pulling a canteen from his waist, he drank heavily of the sweet-tasting water contained within.

The other figure remained completely obscured save for the stray locks of golden, blonde hair that had stuck out of her hood. She stood on the highest part of the ridge and looked down to the battle. The woman watched the battle intently as the minions of Daimanos threw another wave of warriors at the battered wall of the West Sorellans. What she couldn’t see so easily was the position of the commander of the Javans, fighting while protected by the strength of the wall. Yet the steady cannonade at the wall seemed to be destroying it. Her gut told her it wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Should we intervene? They won’t be able to hold out much longer,” asked her aged companion while pointing a finger toward the battle.

The woman shook her head fiercely. “Not if he’s who I think he is. We cannot interfere with the prophecy.”

“And if he dies? What then?”

The woman’s tone turned more uncertain. “Then he’s not the one we’ve been waiting on.”

*****

Jack found himself keeping a steady eye on the battlefield when he felt a presence behind him. Turning to find Heron crouching down next to his section of the wall, Jack nodded to the king in greeting.

“Jack, I need your help. We need more men toward the extreme north end of the wall,” explained Heron. “Their last artillery blast took out a good section of it and on the last wave, they got close enough to almost break through. We need more firepower there.”

Jack nodded quickly. “We have more marines inbound, but I can’t say how long it’ll take them to get here. Until then, Greg and I will follow you to that position.”

Heron’s face turned to worry. “It’s considerably dangerous there. Perhaps it might be better to send someone not so important to that post. Just in case.”

Jack assumed a steely glint in his eyes. “We fight shoulder to shoulder with our men, Heron. I can’t stake my claim as their commander if I won’t fight by their side.”

Heron nodded and put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “As would any true commander. I’m honored that you fight with us, Jack. Let’s move out!”

Together, the three of them made their way along the rampart to the north end of the wall. The journey itself wasn’t particularly easy, having to sidestep and jump over the remains of soldiers dead and wounded as well as portions of the wall that had been completely devastated. Finally reaching the point that Heron had described, Jack could see why it was so vulnerable.

The last artillery blast had all but shattered a complete section of the wall about ten feet across. All that remained was broken rubble and the shattered bodies of those men unlucky enough to have been standing there when the blast came. Yet one silver lining to the situation was that there was plenty of cover to hide behind, and so both Jack and Greg picked a position behind some heavy boulders that anchored up with what was left of the Javan marines to their right.

“I never thought I’d see the day where I was able to fight beside Commander Easterbrook,” said one of the marines to his right with a toothy smile. Jack grinned and looked at the man, remembering his features from their time on Lishkerra. The man was Sergeant Brandon Michaels, and he had been one of the men in the thick of the fighting when Jack had been captured.

“Just don’t let them capture us this time,” said Jack with good-natured ribbing. “I don’t think I’d make a great sight on a cross.”

Brandon gulped visibly. “Neither would I!”

While Jack was still chuckling at the sergeant’s reaction, it was Greg whose voice next pierced the morning air. “Boys, here they come! Prepare to fire!”

Jack looked up again to find massed ranks of East Sorellans emerging from the tree line once more. What was considerably more worrying was that they seemed to be taking more cover on their approach to the city, using whatever was in their way to shield themselves from the bullets of the defense. Compared to the first two waves, these men had learned that a full-on attack across an open field was suicide.

“Open it up and let them have it! Keep up your fire, boys! Show them why Javan marines are the toughest sons of bitches in the entire world!” roared Greg as all the NT-12 rifles along the wall opened up in a damning display of firepower and fury. Even so concealed, the front ranks of the attackers paid dearly for their appearance and heavy cries began as lead met flesh.

Just when Jack thought they may still have a chance, a deafening roar appeared from the East Sorellan ranks as each cannon let loose at the same time. All along the entire wall, a mass of ordnance slammed into it and created the loudest noise Jack had ever heard. The sheer cloud of dust thrown up by the single bombardment brought back the hazy cloud over the battlefield, and the Javans struggled to pick off the attacking third wave alongside the West Sorellans.

For his own part, Jack felt like a machine by the time of the third wave. Calmly identifying each target and shooting at a vital area, he moved from man to man, never quite stopping to see if they were dead or wounded—as long as they were down, they couldn't try to kill him any longer.

"I'm about out, Jack!" yelled Greg over the roar of battle. "We need those other marines to get here right now!"

"I'm close too, sir! I can't hold them much longer," said Brandon while surrounded by spent casings. Firing his last bullet, his gun jammed. "That's the last one!"

"Sergeant, get your ass down to the beach and find those marines. Guide them to our position! Hurry on the double, now!" yelled Jack while picking off another soldier who had his musket raised to his own position.

Brandon quickly scampered down what remained of the rampart and disappeared into the city. "I sure hope he comes back," muttered Jack to Greg as they kept up a steady fire.

It seemed to do them no good. The wave just kept coming no matter how much lead was poured into their front ranks. Whereas at the start of the battle, Jack had been picking men off at the tree line, he was now just struggling to keep them away from the wall itself. There was no respite and his clip was about empty.

Another heavy cannonade smashed into the walls, the sheer force pushing Jack and Greg back from the main rampart and causing them to cough heavily as their lungs filled with debris.

"We may need . . . to pull back!" sputtered Greg, his lungs hacking their way empty as he struggled to return to their position.

"If they take this wall, it's all over! We have to hold," yelled Jack as he took a moment to shoot down another enemy who had started to crawl over the rubble at the foot of the rampart. They were on top of them now.

"Hold them with what?" asked Greg, taking the moment to look back to Jack.

"Use your service pistol and keep your knife in your other hand. Do whatever it takes," yelled Jack.

Greg unsheathed his pistol shortly after, making a series of close shots as the East Sorellans began to assault the rampart directly. At such a close range, even the fire from the pistol was deadly, and one too many men got a swift helping of lead to the face and upper torso. It just didn't seem like enough though, and Jack knew their position would be overwhelmed at any minute.

"You look like you could use some help!" yelled a voice from behind them, and Jack was deliriously happy to see Brandon once again as he tossed full clips of ammunition to them both. He wasn't alone and five more marines hit the rubble around them and began to open fire on the enemy.

"Brandon, you have no idea how happy I am to see you," said a very relieved Greg as he was once again able to open fire with his NT-12. The coordinated actions of all eight men began to take their effect and the enemy was steadily beaten back from the defensive wall. About twenty dead East Sorellans marked the furthest advance of their army as their bodies laid crumpled and broken against the rubble. Either way, Jack was just glad to have a moment's respite to catch up.

The reinforcements quickly turned the tide of battle, at least for that particular wave of attackers. Soon, they started to fall further from the wall, never again getting as close as they'd managed before. In due time, it seemed that their so far inexhaustible numbers were finally starting to run dry.

"Jack, come in. Jack, can you hear me?" came Abigail's voice from his command radio.

Jack stopped firing for a brief moment to answer her summons. "I hear you loud and clear. You can't believe how good it is to hear your voice, Abigail."

"Jack, we're in position just off the coast. I have the guns centered on the low rising forest just out beyond the wall. Are we clear to fire?"

"Let loose with everything you've got," said Jack with a relieved grin. "Remember that these bastards just tried to sink the Valiant. Show no mercy."

"Aye, Jack. Better hang on tight. You've got incoming."

It wasn't much more than thirty seconds later that a roaring boom occurred once more, but this time it wasn't from the ranks of the attacking East Sorellans. This deafening noise came from just off the coast. Jack watched with grim satisfaction as the entire surface area of the forest was lit up in one giant fireball.

"Holy shit, look at that!" exclaimed Brandon from Jack's side as the earsplitting roar of the gunfire was slowly replaced by screens of agony. Those closest to the blast were incinerated almost instantly, a quick and merciful death. Those who had it the worst were the ones just far enough from the blast to catch some of the fire. Those men suffered the excruciating agony of burning to death where they stood.

Another salvo opened up and another and soon the ground trembled and wept at the carnage. What remained of the East Sorellan attack finally shattered at that point, those survivors who could still run did so quickly, melting away from the city and blending back into the countryside to begin their retreat.

"That's enough, Abigail," said Jack into the command radio. "I'd say you devastated them."

"All of them?" came the reply back. "Did we make them pay, Jack?"

Jack chuckled. "You got them all. Their attack is faltering. Some excellent shooting over there on the Destiny. I want you to tell the whole crew how proud of them I am."

"You got it, Jack," came the grateful reply from Abigail.

Once it was safe, Jack stood up on the rampart and surveyed the damage. There was withering destruction along the entire line, almost to the point of making the remaining defensive wall practically useless. It would have been more apt to call it rubble at this point because that's all that remained.

They had paid dearly to remain in control of their city. Jack estimated that every third defender had been wounded or killed, leaving only a few hundred Sorellan men left as an active force. His own casualties were heavy as well—seventeen marines were dead and eight were wounded. After the battles on Lishkerra and Sorella so far, almost a full quarter of the Marines he had started with were either dead or wounded. Jack prayed he wouldn't have to lose too many more of the experienced men, their proficiency too hard to replace.

Their feelings of loss were shared equally across the allies, if not more so. It was a sobbing howl from behind the front lines that caught Jack's attention next as he and Greg hurried to find the source. Far behind the line, an ordinary house had taken a stray cannon shot through the upper floor and it had collapsed the entire structure. Those that were inside had been crushed with little warning.

It was who had been caught inside that softened the hearts of even the most grizzled warriors.

Heron knelt at the floor of the ruined building and sobbed hysterically as he held a body tightly against his chest. He rocked the body repeatedly while his face contorted into a wailing sob as he let loose all his frustrations and emotions. It was Nikias who appeared at Jack's side, watching the Javan take in the king's sorrowful weeping.

"That's his daughter," said Nikias quietly. "That's Hera."

Just like that, Heron's actions made much more sense. As the lamenting king held his dead daughter to his chest, Jack realized it was now the second time he had lost a child. All for this war that needn't have happened save for the reckless ambition of one man.

"Daimanos will pay dearly for this," Jack said grimly. "I'll make sure of it."

*****

There was no more fighting between East and West for the rest of the day. Instead, both sides took their opportunity to redress their own losses. On the East Sorellan side, many of their soldiers scoured the battlefield for the remains of their comrades, doing so under the peace of a white flag. Toward the evening hours, they disappeared completely, melting into the forests as they began their retreat into the interior of the island.

For the West Sorellans, it was time to rebuild. Their city had been completely ravaged by effects of war, and there was no clearer illustration of this than what remained of their city wall. Soldiers and civilians alike began the great cleanup work needed to restore some semblance of formidability to the wall, all hastened on by the threat of renewed violence.

Jack didn't think the East Sorellans were in any shape to begin a new attack. Their losses had been too grievous and the majority of their heavy artillery had gone up in flames under the Destiny's heavy guns. It would take them time to regroup to be in any condition for an offensive fight, and it was for that reason that Jack was dining with the king that very evening.

For Jack, the strategy was simple. Now was the time to push back and hit Daimanos with everything that he had. After his defeat, the East Sorellan king was in a tenuous position and could be toppled from his throne of deceit by one, concentrated push. Now was the time to strike and make him pay for all those who had paid the cost in blood so dearly.

Yet, part of Jack didn't want to press the matter with the king, so clearly in agony over the loss of his daughter. Jack hadn't heard Heron speak since learning of his eldest daughter's death—too stricken with grief to be a ruler in that moment. Despite the king's feelings, now was the time to offer retribution and create the opportunity to end this war.

An hour before sunset, Jack and Greg, joined by Abigail, awaited the start of this dinner with the king. They had been given the location of the palace by Nikias earlier although palace was hardly the word for the gloomy and dark dwelling that Heron called home.

For one, Jack suspected it had seen much better days. The building was only about a third larger than those surrounding it, hardly an indication of royalty among the masses, and it had been some time since it was properly maintained. Many of the ceramic tiles that had adorned the roof had fallen out of place, leaving a pockmarked display of the current austerity visited upon the city. Several bits of stonework had long since collapsed, and Jack estimated that at least one wing of the building was entirely unusable for that reason.

Together, the three Javans awaited the presence of Nikias who was to lead their joint war council for the evening.

"Quite the difference from Daimanos' palace," muttered Abigail as they stood around a simple vestibule during their wait.

"Heron isn't the same kind of king as Daimanos," said Jack as his hands ran over the dated stonework. "Not to mention, the war has affected this side of the island much more than on the eastern side."

"Don't you worry," said Greg to Abigail. "But the time we're done with Daimanos, he'll be lucky to have anything standing at all."

"I still can't believe he betrayed us. The morning after signing our alliance. It just doesn't make sense," said Abigail.

"When you hear the same story about him that Greg and I heard, you'll understand why," said Jack, taking several moments to fill her in on the finer points of the upbringing of Heron and Daimanos. He finished the story with how the war began and the despicable actions of Alcydes toward the innocent people of the interior of the island.

"The poor man," said Abigail with a shiver as she referenced the West Sorellan king. "He's suffered so much. Can you imagine what might have happened if we did press forward the attack on this city like we'd planned?"

"We'd have killed off the remaining West Sorellans easily, and then been overwhelmed by the East Sorellans in their final attack. While I do think Daimanos is a bloodthirsty tyrant, I can't fault him for that plan. All he had to do was mop up the survivors," said Greg.

"We didn't come all the way out here to be used as pawns in another man's war," said Jack firmly. "Daimanos played his hand and lost. I'm determined he won't get another hand to play. He needs to pay for all those Javans he killed today, especially Luke."

"Aye, Jack, I like that idea," said Abigail with a soft smile.

"What do you think will happen once we attack East Sorella and win? Do you think we can really put an end to all this war?" asked Greg.

"I sure hope so. These people deserve it," said Jack. "It's painful to look at them. Their vacant expressions and lean, hollow features show they've been suffering for too long."

"We might want to talk Heron into leaving the palace in East Sorella for himself. It's kind of better than this dump," said Greg while leaning over to fix a portion of stonework that clearly fallen over due to time.

Another voice echoed throughout the vestibule. "It never used to be this bad. But Heron stopped having the house maintained after his wife died."

Jack turned to face the newcomer, seeing a solemn-looking Nikias waiting near the main entrance. The minister kept his head bowed, not oblivious to the loss suffered by the house today. "Perhaps he wanted to leave the exterior as a reflection of how he felt inside."

Jack was the first one to nod and approach the man. "With our help, we can avenge that memory."

Nikias stopped to study the Javan's features and scrunched his brow. It was a completely different look than he was used to from the normally easygoing minister. When he finally spoke, it was enough to chill him to the core. "Vengeance never brings anyone back. It only hardens the heart."

With that, he opened the door and bid them entrance into the main dwelling. The trio of Javans followed him inside cautiously and walked the short and narrow hallways until coming upon what was clearly defined as the great receiving hall of the king. Nothing to match the great hall of East Sorella, nor even Lishkerra for that point, the West Sorellan king's hall was a much bleaker affair of dim lights and morbid, gray stonework. For Jack, the palace seemed to feel every ounce of sorrow suffered by their people.

As Nikias brought them to a round table off the hall, Jack's eyes fell first on the king himself, occupying the spot of honor at the table. While Heron had changed tunics and appeared to have been cleaned up from the battle, his eyes had lost the spark of hope that had been so prevalent in their earlier meeting before battle. This evening, he appeared little more than a broken shell of a man—understandable given his loss.

There were five remaining seats at the table and only one other was occupied as Nikias and the Javans arrived. A younger woman, not much older than twenty by Jack's reckoning sat beside the king. Easily distinguishable by her fiery red hair and fair features, she wore the look of someone not to be trifled with. Behind her look of anger was the feeling of loss and it permeated the entire room.

"Your Majesty, may I present our Javan allies," said Nikias as he motioned for the trio to sit at the table.

Heron's eyes raised to meet Jack's and he offered a sorrowful smile. "Welcome back, Jack."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Heron," said Jack with a friendly nod. "Of course, you know Major Greg Vaughn already of the Javan marines, but let me introduce you to the real savior of the day, Lt. Commander Abigail Wainwright of our ship the Destiny. It was Abigail who decimated the East Sorellan positions today with gunfire and finally ended the battle.

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty," said Abigail with a formal bow.

"A real pleasure to meet you, Abigail," said Heron. "Your excellent shooting saved our city. You have no idea how thankful we are for your excellent seamanship."

Jack watched out of the corner of his eye as the woman went slightly pink at the king's showering of compliments before taking a seat at the table. He did so as well, followed by Greg and Nikias shortly after.

"Forgive me, my friends, but I'm not much in the mood to discuss war plans," started Heron as soon as they were all seated. "Today's events . . . have had a profound effect on all of us."

"We understand, Heron," said Jack. "Our deepest condolences on the loss of your daughter."

At the moment, the young woman at the table reached over to give a reassuring touch to Heron. "Your condolences are much appreciated. The more this war goes on, the more that we lose the people that we love. It becomes much harder to keep going on."

Jack nodded. "I can understand that sentiment as well. However, I think we have a real opportunity now, Heron. The East Sorellans are pulling back from the city. We sent a patrol out two hours ago, and we spotted their forces in a headlong retreat along the coast. They're in disarray and prime for a strike."

"No doubt they will be back," said Heron with a sigh. "They won't stop until they put me on the cross like they've done to so many of my people."

"It doesn't need to be that way. We have the momentum right now with our victory," argued Jack.

"Victory?" asked Nikias. "We barely snatched victory from the jaws of total defeat."

"A victory nonetheless. And with our help, we can now push forward on the offensive and take the war to Daimanos."

"My people are in just as bad a shape as those of Daimanos," said Heron. "Maybe even a worse shape. They're in no condition to move to the offensive."

"No, but they will fight to end this war," said the woman to the left of Heron. Her steely voice was a marked contrast to that of the two West Sorellan men.

Heron looked to her and then back to Jack. "Forgive me, Jack. This is my youngest daughter, Elektra. She is now all the family I have left."

Jack nodded to Elektra and started once more. "Your daughter is right, Heron. With our help, you can take the war to Daimanos. We can be the spearhead that you need to take control," said Jack.

Heron closed his eyes. "So many have died already. What you're asking is only going to kill off more of the precious few that are left."

Jack shook his head from side to side. "This is a war, Heron. People will die. Daimanos won't stop until you're dead. You said it yourself he wants you on the cross so he can take ultimate power."

"Perhaps, I should let him," said the morose king. "End all the suffering."

"Father, do you really think he would be a better king than you?" asked Elektra. "You've heard the reports from Nikias about their capitol as have I. You know how they are treated. Like slaves in service to a cruel tyrant."

"I want to end this war just like the next man," said Nikias with considerably more steel. "But at present count, we have just over four hundred soldiers left that are capable of bearing a musket. How are we to assault Daimanos' city with such few numbers?"

"With our technology and ships, we can augment your numbers greatly," said Greg. "Our current numbers are 158 effective Marines ready to take action with the most advanced assault rifle anywhere in the world. Backed up by the firing power of the heaviest cruiser in the world, the Destiny."

"What we lack in numbers, we make up in pure firepower," added Jack. "We can win this, but we just need a decent strategy to do so."

Heron looked up at Jack. "What do you suggest for a strategy?"

Jack pounded the table. "We attack now! We strike while we can. We know those men retreating from battle are going back to their fort on the coast. We sailed past it yesterday on our way here. I'm talking we bring all of our ships and pound the fort into nothingness and then assault what's left with our land forces. Whatever will be left of Daimanos' army will be crushed in doing so."

"That's a large undertaking, Jack," said Heron. "And it will take time to get our forces in place over that distance."

"No need for that," said Jack. "We can bring them along on the ships. We'll make much better time sailing down the coast than your men can on foot. They won't expect you to strike back so quickly and will be caught unawares."

Heron seemed to consider the plan for several moments while remaining silent. "I'm not sure, Jack. It seems too soon."

Elektra intervened at that point, once more placing her hand on her father's wrist. "It's a good plan, father. The strength of it is that they'll never expect it from us. We'll have complete surprise in doing so."

"Elektra's right, Heron," said Jack. "This only works if we strike before they have the chance to dig in. If we let them wait long enough, they'll dig out a defensive position and it'll be as costly for us to assault as it was for them to assault this city."

Heron looked over to Nikias for his input and the minister nodded his agreement. "Listen to your daughter, Your Majesty. Listen to your allies. Their plan is solid." His words produced a small smile from the king's daughter as she looked back at him.

Heron opened his mouth several times but kept shutting it in frustration. Finally, Elektra leaned into his side. "What is it, father? What's troubling you?"

The king gulped visibly and managed to speak out. "I-I don't know if I can lead the attack."

Heron began to weep after his statement and bowed his head while Elektra scooted closer to attend to her father. In that moment, Jack felt for the man whose life had been so troubled. Losing a son, a daughter, and a wife to war had deeply affected the monarch, and his pain was felt by all at the table. Even Jack himself wanted to reach out to comfort the king, and he could tell from the look in Abigail's eyes that she wanted to do the same.

"You can stay here with the people," said Nikias finally. "I can lead the attack with Jack."

"I can do it too, father. Hera was my sister," said Elektra. "I want to see her avenged just as much as you do."

Heron sobbed uncontrollably. "I can't lose you too, Elektra. You're all I have left."

She looked confidently at her father and then to Jack. "I'll be in good hands, papa. They won't let us down. Right, Jack?"

Jack nodded almost too quickly despite the reservations he felt. "That's right, Heron. We'll treat her just like she's one of us."

Heron nodded. "Nikias, I want you to look after Elektra. Please don't let any harm come to her."

Nikias smiled for the first time the entire meeting. "I'll protect her life with my own, Your Majesty."

Heron looked directly at Jack. "You have the most important people left in my life with you now, Jack. I really hope this plan works as well as you think."

"I'll do everything I can to make it a success," said Jack. "It's time that Daimanos was punished for his actions. Besides, I have a plan for how we can get in position off the coast undetected."

*****

"And then, all the cannons just roared with one swift, ass-kicking volley and BOOM!" Daimanos slammed his hand down forcibly on the table. "That little Javan ship just exploded into a giant fireball!"

The East Sorellan king roared with laughter before taking a giant gulp of wine. Barak let out a heavy sigh at the now eighth retelling of the harbor action from yesterday, with each new retelling getting more fanciful as time went on. At the second retelling, he had just heavily damaged the ship. It was around the fifth or so that Daimanos began to claim they had exploded into a fireball, and Barak was sure by the beginning of next week, he'll start claiming that he personally fired the cannon the Javan vessel.

Barak twiddled his fingers during the rest of the war council without saying much more than anything. He had learned after so much time that Daimanos generally didn't like it when suggestions came from anyone else but himself. Of course, Barak had learned that lesson the hard way, and he still had the scars on his back to prove it. These days, he mostly kept his mouth shut unless a question was directed his way.

"Sire, we've had to regroup our forces along the coast after our last assault on Heron's city," said one the generals, Cicladas with a reserved tone. Barak wondered why he didn't call out the fact that their last assault had ended disastrously after the Javans had switched sides and began to fight for Heron.

Daimanos paid it no attention however. "I want you to get our forces ready for another assault. We've greatly wounded the usurper Heron and the foreigner Easterbrook and now we need to prepare for the last battle."

"Sire, it might take some time to rebuild for another assault. The men lost a host of weaponry and almost all of our larger guns during that—" began Cicladas before being interrupted.

"Well, then get them more guns! We still have plenty in the armory! Get a new shipment out there now!"

"Sire, most of the armory was emptied for the last assault," squeaked Cicladas.

"Are you calling me a liar?" roared Daimanos as he slammed his hand down on the table.

"N-no, sir!"

"Well then get the weapons and finish the fight!" said the king haughtily.

Cicladas nodded and scampered from his seat toward the door with a frightened expression.

Amateur, thought Barak as the general left. Anyone who had been around Daimanos long enough knew not to speak the truth to the king. He ruled his own world and little drawbacks like the truth meant nothing to him. Daimanos had no idea the armory he spoke of had been completely emptied weeks ago. Likewise, he had no idea that even with all their weapons out in their coastal fort, a full quarter of their remaining forces still didn't have muskets. The war had disturbed their primary factories but Daimanos couldn't be bothered to hear of a setback. All he remained focused on was becoming the only king on Sorella.

"Now, when can we start this last assault? Who can give me a time frame?" asked Daimanos while looking around at his remaining generals.

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. All of them refused to say anything as most of them knew the poor condition of their soldiers too well and knew they were in no condition to return to the offensive.

"Well? Isn't there a general here who can lead capable men to victory?" asked Daimanos again, lingering over each general in an intimidating manner.

Barak thought that most of them were being too quiet for their own good. If one of them didn't volunteer to lead the charge, Daimanos was just as likely to crucify all of them for their lack of patriotism and defeatism. Barak took a moment to think about the last general who had so defied Daimanos, urging him not to start the war against his own brother. Barak shut his eyes quickly as the image of that general crucified in the main square of the city drifted back into his mind. The general was left up for months until his body had been completely picked away by all kinds of carrion crows.

"Barak! Are you listening to me?" asked Daimanos as all attention at the council turned to the stocky-built minister.

"A thousand apologies, sire," squeaked Barak immediately. "What can I help with?"

"You can start by paying attention to the meeting," said Daimanos with a dissatisfied grimace. "But the question I asked is if my personal yacht is in ready condition to sail?"

Barak blinked. "Yes, sire. The yacht is in able condition. But with the Javans out there still, do you really want to go out into the open sea?"

"Javans?" asked Daimanos. "I made the Javans sail away. They are not a threat to our city any longer."

Barak nodded tentatively and mentally castigated himself for doubting the king. Even though he had seen with his own eyes the two Javan warships escaping their harbor yesterday.

"Anyway, have my ship ready to sail this evening," said Daimanos. "If none of my generals have the balls to do what I pay them to do, then I will do so myself. I will lead the charge against Heron and those treacherous Javans and finish this war!"

Barak coughed inaudibly at the way the king called the Javans treacherous. After all, it had been them that fired upon the Javans and betrayed their own alliance so if anyone was to be considered treacherous, it was the Daimanos. Yet, Barak hadn't wanted the alliance to begin with, knowing that the Javans would be dangerous foes once angered and betrayed. Daimanos, in his shortsightedness, thought nothing of them and only remained focused on his single-minded goal of deposing his own brother.

The rest of the council continued on with its usual one-sided discussion as Daimanos outlined what he wanted while the rest of the council acquiesced in fear of reprisal. It wasn't until the council was over that the majority of men were dismissed and Barak was left alone with the king.

"Well, Barak, we shall finally see this war over shortly," said Daimanos. "Once the men see their own king leading them into combat, they'll be inspired to prove their martial prowess. And once I get in front of those remaining rebels, we shall end them totally." Daimanos smacked his balled fist into his open hand in emphasis.

"Sire, it's an excellent plan," said Barak out loud. If you don't get sunk by the Javans first, he added internally. "And it will be a most fitting end to this war that has plagued us so long."

Daimanos nodded. "It would be a pleasure to kill Heron myself in one-on-one combat. Too long has he sullied the word king. Too long has he stolen the glory that was meant to be mine."

"It will be most delightful to watch the life drain from his body," said Barak, repeating and rehearsing the same lines he had used before. It was at least once a day that Daimanos frothed at the mouth in regards to his brother, and it could be tiresome having the same conversations over and over again.

"Barak, I want you to go to the harem and fetch me a blonde. Someone particularly busty for tonight. With big, ol' tits that I have to struggle to get my hands around," said Daimanos, using his hands to motion his size preference as he reclined on his throne.

"At once, sire," said Barak, eager to take his chance to not only leave the side of the king but also to enter the royal harem. Ever since Daimanos had started the pretense that he was king, the first thing he did was set up the harem. Never having married, he was a man of voracious appetite, a keen lover of variety with a steady taste in new women.

Barak padded down the halls of the palace, his pocket containing the special key needed to access the harem. Of course, Daimanos kept the women secreted away in a hidden wing of the palace, far away from prying eyes and always kept hidden behind a false wall. When they were released from the harem to attend to the king, they wore simple servant's clothes so as to confuse any outside observers. Daimanos liked to keep the fact that the harem even existed a closely guarded secret, even if most of the palace already knew about it. It might have lasted as a secret longer if not for his habit to demand the presence of a girl on the other side of the giant building and have to march her around half of the staff.

Arriving at the door, Barak unlocked it with his special key and stepped inside. Almost instantly, about fifteen pairs of eyes were on him, most of them looking at him with a combination of weariness and annoyance. The only eyes that looked at him with hopeful expressions belonged to the new girls. It was one new girl in particular, Vera, whom Barak sought to bring to the king. For many reasons, she was chosen. First, she fit his particular tastes exceptionally well, the well-endowed woman having enormous tits that drove Daimanos particularly wild. She was also blonde, coming from a nation just deeper inside the Fourth Vector and still being new enough that she didn't see fucking the king as the chore that it was. She would do perfectly.

"Vera," said Barak with a snap of his fingers. "You're summoned. Let's go."

The blonde woman quickly got up from her chair and approached Barak with an eager to please smile on her face. You wouldn't be smiling if you knew what he had in mind for you, thought Barak while rolling his eyes at her naivety.

Vera followed quickly in his wake as he made his way back to the throne room. Barak never engaged the whores with conversation, even if he didn't mind looking at their bodies. For one, they were completely below his station and even as one of the ministers, he would never be able to lay with one of Daimanos' girls. Lastly, the ones that talked too much usually didn't last long, their talking usually leading to scheming and trying to find a way to escape the palace and their status. Because of those reasons, the two of them strolled along in silence until reaching the throne room.

They found Daimanos still sitting on his golden throne reading one of the reports for the day. His eyes perked up when he saw Vera, who was only clad in a delicate and simple cloth to cover the more intimate parts of her body. With a snap of his fingers, the trained Vera ditched the cloth and stood proudly in front of the king with her nudity.

"Excellent choice, Barak," said Daimanos with a lusty grin. He waved the girl to come closer, and produced his cock from under his tunic. Since Vera hadn't yet been tainted by repeated couplings with the man, she went to work quickly. Sinking to her knees, she took the king's cock in her hands and began to stroke it to hardness.

"That's just what I needed. Fantastic," said Daimanos with a sigh as he reclined further into the throne. Seeing Daimanos being pleasured in this way was normal for Barak as the occurrence happened at least once a day. While he was the only Sorellan king that he knew of with this type of harem, Daimanos executed this privilege to the fullest and could be regularly found with one of his concubines.

It was only after he was at full mast that Vera popped the tip into her mouth and began to suck. Slowly at first, she worked the tip with her tongue before slipping more of him into her mouth. Barak tried not to watch but found himself monitoring her progress as she attempted to deepthroat the king. Daimanos closed his eyes and ran his fingers through the girl's hair, taking several heavy breaths as his body began to relax. Barak mentally commended the girl for her skill, even surprised to see her take the entire length into her mouth.

"Why so anxious, Barak? You've never seen a whore deepthroat before?" asked Daimanos, wearing a smirking grin on his face.

"She's a good pick for the harem, sire," said Barak while averting his eyes.

"Yes, she is," said Daimanos. Vera's enthusiasm picked up greatly as her head bobbed. "I should bring her along with us to the fort. Her tongue will be much missed while I'm away."

Barak saw his chance so he took it. "Sire, about that. I'm just a little nervous about the Javans being out there still. They may be weakened but they can still attack."

Daimanos rolled his eyes. Barak saw it as a testament to Vera's skill. If not for Vera comforting him, Daimanos might have gone into a rage at the mere suggestion of an alteration to his plan. Thankfully, Barak knew her skill and chose the precise moment to interject.

"You worry too much, Barak," said Daimanos finally. "All we need to do is keep the artillery on the coast and we'll sink any of those Javan ships that get too close."

"Well, that's part of the issue for me," said Barak, taking a step closer. "Why try to sink them at all? Their technology is so much more advanced than ours. Why can't we try to capture their ships like we did earlier?"

"You've thought this one through considerably, Barak," said Daimanos with a grin. "I appreciate that. But going back to your question, how would we do that?"

Barak blinked. "Do what exactly?"

"Capture their ships? Kill them all but leave their ships intact? The only defense we have against them is the artillery. We can't kill them without damaging their ships and if we sink them by accident, then they'll be useless to us. No, we had a chance at capturing that lone ship while we had surprise with us, but there's no more surprise. Our window of opportunity has passed." Daimanos tapped his hand against the girl's shoulder and she pulled back from his cock. He twirled his finger in a motion to gesture for her to turn around.

Barak still struggled to answer his previous question. While the king positioned himself behind Vera, he put his hand to the side and spit into it. Using his own saliva, he reached down between them and began to rub it on the girl. Guessing by the way Vera jumped and how wide her eyes went, Barak figured out where he rubbed the saliva.

"Barak, their technology would be great. It would change not only the balance of the war, but maybe even our regional ambition," said Daimanos. He thrust himself into the Vera, and she let out a low cry of pain. Barak's eyes flickered down to see the Daimanos' cock pressing into the girl's ass and instantly understood why she was whimpering.

"Mmm, so tight," said Daimanos as he pressed more of himself into her ass. "Anyway, the only option we have is to kill them. Especially while they are divided but definitely before more of their numbers can arrive. There are only so many of them that we can take them. If we take their technology, then great." Daimanos gave a particularly hard thrust into Vera, causing her to whimper once more. "If not, then no big loss. They'll be dead and I'll be the only king. Do you understand now?"

Barak watched the girl struggle with his girth and simply nodded. Part of his heart went out to the girl who was now openly crying as she struggled with the pain. She would be jaded soon too just like the rest. Daimanos didn't seem to mind her cries as he only began to thrust harder into her ass, and the steady sounds of their flesh slapping together echoed across the entire throne room.

"Now, Barak, have my yacht readied at once. I want to sail this evening for the fort. I want you to also get the ultimate weapon activated for the final battle."

Barak flinched. "The ultimate weapon, sire? Are you sure?"

The king grinned wickedly. "Yes, it's time we taught Heron what real pain is."