The afternoon and evening that followed was completely uneventful, and it was a misty morning that found the Destiny pulled in closer to the Andalucian shore than usual. Jack looked down to check the time, finding it seven-twenty as he watched the marines line up on deck by Greg's orders. Beside him, Vera stood with a confident, but sleepy face as he watched Abigail approach the stern, her pistol attached to the belt along her waist.

"Ready to go back ashore?" Jack asked Vera privately. "You don't have to go again, you know that right? You have nothing to prove to anyone."

Vera smiled at him. "I know, Jack. But you need my help as a guide. I feel like I owe this to Kat."

Jack nodded, finding any further words unnecessary as the order was given to man the launch boats. Every boat they had was used to bring the sixty-person group ashore, their bows pressing into the sandy beaches of Andalucia after a short journey.

One person in particular looked happier than ever. Greg wore a big smile as he hoped out of the launch boat with his NT-12 rifle already searching the nearby surroundings. Jack didn't have to ask why.

"Just like old times, huh?" said Jack with a smirk.

"You're damn right," growled Greg as he waved the rest of the boats in. It was already warm for the time of day, the mist not having followed them once they came ashore. With it bound to be a hot day and knowing the climate in the country, Jack had arranged for all of them to have some covering for their heads to protect from the heat that was likely to greet them. With the sun just starting to rise, it was their best protection from such an environment.

Once fully ashore and once the launch boats had departed to go back to the Destiny, Jack and Greg led the grouping along the sand until they stumbled upon a coastal road that ran parallel to the water.

"This must be that route that the slaver mentioned yesterday," said Jack as soon as his feet were firmly planted on it. He looked on in both directions, seeing no travelers at this time of morning.

"Go south then?" asked Abigail. "We probably still have a ways to go before we reach the Numratha."

"Yes, and we need to keep an eye out for the Muthada clan as well," said Jack. "Larthiss said we would need to cross their territory before getting to the Numratha."

"Are we to assume they're likely to be hostile as well?" asked Greg. "I doubt they'd like a bunch of foreign soldiers trampling through their territory."

Jack nodded. "Take no risks. Spread the men out a bit so we have a warning before anyone gets too close. Don't harass the locals unless they start something first. Have them get word back for any masses of soldiers or any other signs of trouble."

Greg called his platoon leaders over to dispense the messages to the rest of the marines and soon they were marching steadily southwest along the road in a spread-out fashion. Squads of marines hugged the road on both sides a good distance apart, remaining within sight but far enough away to give them a wide range on the landscape in front of them.

"It all kind of looks the same," said Vera from his side, after a few couple hours of traveling along the road. Despite seeing few other people on the route, she wasn't wrong.

"We're definitely not in Sorella anymore," said Jack. "This is a bleak country. No wonder the Andalucians are the way they are."

Vera grimaced. "Still doesn't excuse slavery though."

"I know, I know," said Jack as he wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. In a way, Vera was almost becoming like family to him. He found himself treating her much the same way he treated his sister, Jocelyn, back home. She had so clearly integrated herself into his life that it would have felt weird not to. "Hopefully, we don't have much further to go."

"This is nothing like Galicia, you know?" said Vera. "It's rather the total opposite."

"Really? What could I expect to see in Galicia?"

Vera smiled as her eyes drifted off. "Galicia has a little bit of everything but mostly green, rolling hills and large forests with just the right trees for climbing. Stunning valleys and picturesque mountains running down the spine of the main island. Lakes too, so many lakes. Beautiful, clear water in all of them with the temperature always being just right for swimming. It's not hard to see why Galicians prefer the sea to the land."

Jack started to laugh. "You really know how to sell it. I'd like for us to go there someday."

Vera shrugged. "Maybe after Picardy? That is, if we get there after here."

"Maybe," said Jack noncommittally. "Even our best plans seem to go awry at times. Who knows if we'll ever get to that side of the Vector?"

"It might be worth it though. Maybe you can convince the Galician regent to sign an alliance with you?"

"From everything I've heard about the regent, it doesn't sound like they are particularly open to the world right now," said Jack with a sigh. "I have a feeling it might be a mission doomed from the start."

"It was just a thought. Who knows, maybe—"

Jack was interrupted from the conversation by Greg, who had just come jogging back from the land up ahead. "Jack, we've got company up ahead."

"Who is it and how many?" asked Jack.

"A whole lot of people. A couple thousand or more. Lots of them too. Men, women, and children," said Greg. "There's a small oasis that looks to be in the middle of this camp."

Jack started to nod. "Larthiss did say we'd be passing through the territory of the Muthada clan. Perhaps this is it?"

"I'd say so," said Greg. "They have a good portion of warriors too."

"Should we attempt to go around them?" asked Abigail, not far away from Greg.

Vera started to shake her head. "If we do that, they'll take it as disrespect. The clans are highly prideful people and they won't take kindly if we don't offer a greeting to their clan chief as we go by. Especially as foreigners."

Jack turned to look at Greg. "About how many warriors do you think? Rough guess?"

Greg pursed his lips while thinking. "Maybe five hundred in total?"

"Enough for us to need to be careful," said Jack. "That many in number is not something we can easily fight our way out of. Plus, we just might start another war doing so. Pull the men into a tighter formation and tell them to focus on the perimeter. They may try to provoke us as well so they'll need to be on their guard."

"I'll get word out immediately," said Greg as he soon dashed away.

"Perhaps they've seen the buyers come through," said Jack to Vera. "This could work out better than we thought. We know the Andalucian clans are always warring against each other, right? Maybe if they are neighbors to the Numratha, they might be rivals and more willing to tell us information on the buyers."

"It's a possibility," said Vera quietly. "But I highly doubt they would offer to help you over their own countrymen. Andalucian politics are dirty, but it's not that dirty. There are certain rules still."

"I guess we'll find out shortly," said Jack as he nodded in front of them. They had just ascended to the top of a low-lying hill which meant the Andalucian clan camp finally appeared in front of them. It was a unique sight for Jack, having seen nothing like it yet in his travels, even compared to the slave city of Methusa.

For one, this camp seemed a lot more temporary. There were just about no permanent buildings in the entire camp, with the major dwellings being made up of flimsy and patched tents. The majority of those tents were arrayed around the camp in a circle, completely surrounding a small grove of trees where they could find the oasis that Greg described. While they were still close to the ocean, that oasis would have been the only source of fresh water nearby, which didn't make it hard to see why they chose to camp there.

In the center of the entire camp stood a great, large tent of much better quality than the ones surrounding it. It dominated the rest of the camp with what looked to be multiple partitions inside for different rooms as compared to the simpler one-roomed tents around it.

"If I had to guess, I'd say the clan chief is in that tent," said Abigail, echoing Jack's thoughts.

"I bet you're right," said Jack. "Come on, let's go down there. There's no reason we can't greet this clan chief and find out if he can be useful to our purposes."

The Javan group descended down the hill toward the rest of the camp as the marines pulled in tight around them on all sides. While most of the clan seemed to scurry about on their own tasks within the camp, there was a set perimeter that was maintained at all time by the clan warriors. Just about all of them were armed with bows, carefully strung across their backs and small swords belted at their waists.

"Don't the Andalucians have firearms?" Jack asked Vera as the group approached a set of warriors. "All I've seen are bows and swords with them so far."

"They hardly need them," whispered Vera. "Those bows are small and deadly accurate. Just about all the warriors start training with them from the time they're young boys. The range is great enough that they really don't need much in the way of firearms, and their island is mostly desert wastelands so no one really wants to conquer them anyway. For that reason, the bows have persisted as their main fighting weapon."

"Interesting. By the way, what are we supposed to do or say when we get to the clan chief?" he asked. "Is there any special greeting or customs we should uphold?"

"When I was captured, most travelers would offer a prayer of good fortune to the clan chief. If you stick with that message, it should resonate."

"A prayer of good fortune. What the hell is that?"

Vera shrugged. "I've never seen it actually given so who knows?"

"I guess we'll find out," said Jack as he was waved off by the men in front of them.

"Who are you? State your name and purpose," called out the closest warrior as soon as the distance was closed.

Jack stepped forward, with Greg and Abigail following directly behind him. "My name is Commander Jack Easterbrook of the Javan Empire. I wish to offer a prayer of good fortune to your clan chief."

The warrior eyed Jack and his group warily. "Where the hell is Java? And do you always travel so armed?"

"Java is one of the eastern nations," said Jack. "And yes, for our protection. However, we are peaceful toward those that are peaceful to us."

The two men began to whisper something between them. Jack couldn't make out what they were saying, and it sounded like they were using their own language to communicate, making it impossible to translate. Finally, the first man turned back toward them.

"We can't allow you in to see the clan chief with so much weaponry. You will be allowed to send in no more than five people to see the chief, without those arms," said the warrior while gesturing to their rifles.

Jack nodded. "That's fine. The four of us will go in," he said while gesturing to himself, Greg, Abigail, and Vera. "The rest of my soldiers will wait outside the camp."

The soldier pursed his lips and nodded, probably not expecting to find Jack so agreeable to his terms. While they waited for the soldiers to beckon them forward, Greg went back to talk to the marines, making sure they understood what was expected from them while they met with the clan chief.

"Are they clear on the orders?" asked Jack as soon as Greg returned.

"Perfectly. I told them I'd leave my radio on so they could monitor the meeting. If they hear a special code word from me, they'll attack."

"What's the code word?"

Greg smirked. "Intercourse."

Jack started to laugh. "You'll never grow up."

"I wouldn't be nearly as much fun if I did."

A few moments later, the soldiers returned and gestured for the four of them to follow. Jack and his small group made their way into camp, passing by a small billet of warriors before entering deeper into the small tent city. Once inside, ordinary Andalucians could be seen going about their day, however it was highly noticeable that many of them wore a simple metal clasp around their neck.

"That's the mark of the slave," whispered Vera as her hand absentmindedly went to her throat. "It's the universal symbol here in Andalucia of servitude. Everyone that you see with it serves in some way."

It seemed that a good portion, possibly even a quarter of the people in the camp, had the chain around their neck in some fashion. They could all be seen going about their daily tasks as Jack was led to the big tent in the center of the camp. Once inside, he found the temperature a lot cooler than outside and many of the Andalucians now barring a good portion of their bodies without fear of the sun or heat.

"Wait here," said the soldier to Jack. "Bathal will be here to see you shortly."

Jack started to nod. "Who is Bathal? Is he the clan chief?"

The soldier smirked. "Bathal is the cousin of the clan chief. No one gets in to see Clan Chief Adulis without Bathal having a say so first."

"That'll be fine," said Jack. "Thank you for your assistance."

The warriors disappeared outside the tent as the four of them waited in a larger partition of dwelling. Around them, other Andalucian men walked about in the middle of their own tasks, many of them never even sparing a second look at Jack and his group.

"This place gives me an uneasy feeling," said Vera, soon wearing a nervous expression on her face. "It reminds me of being here before."

Jack nodded sympathetically. "We won't stay long. Let's hope this prayer of good fortune goes by quickly enough that we can get moving again. Or perhaps this Adulis will choose to help us."

Vera shook her head and walked to one side of the tent, still looking uneasy. With a silent look to Greg, the marine followed in her footsteps, soon offering idle conversation in an attempt to distract her from the current surroundings. Jack couldn't dwell on it long before Abigail called him to the opposite side of the tent.

"Jack, look over here," she said while waving him toward her. "What do you think this room is for?"

She haphazardly pulled back a flap to look into another partition, finding a simple desk inside that was far from being unoccupied. In fact, Jack met eyes with another man sitting at the desk, a dark-haired man wearing a dark-gray robe and trousers. The man seemed to be somewhat surprised by the disturbance but soon his face returned to quiet curiosity.

"Who are you?" he asked in a deep, gravelly voice.

"We didn't mean to disturb you," said Jack while sticking his head through the rest of the tent. "We didn't realize someone else was in here."

The man looked at both him and Abigail from head to toe. "You're not Andalucians, are you?"

Jack shook his head. "We're Javans from the eastern parts of the world."

"Javans?" asked the man. "Never heard of it," he said with a simple shake of the head.

Jack wasn't surprised. That seemed to be the default answer in this part of the world. Before he could respond, the man spoke up again.

"What are you doing so far from home?"

"We're on a mission of our own. Right now, we're trying to track down a slave that may have been sold here by mistake."

The man started to chuckle. "Good luck with that. Andalucia is full of slaves and they only seem to multiply. Finding a specific slave amongst the entire bunch is a difficult task."

"I'll know her when I see her," said Jack.

"Ah, a lady friend of yours, I take it? A lover perhaps?"

Jack pursed his lips. "You can say that."

"Well, I wish you luck then, friend. This country has a habit of turning hope into shit so I hope you find her sooner rather than later."

"By the sounds of it, you're not from here either?" asked Jack.

He shook his head with a small laugh. "Not even close," he said while moving to stand up from the desk. He walked around the side to offer his hand to Jack. "My name is Berimund. I'm a special envoy for Lord Regaulfus Avila of the Swabian Empire."

Berimund clasped hands with Jack as he heard the breath catch in Abigail's throat. The moment became a little more tense with the first sight of a potential enemy. Before Jack could respond, Berimund turned to face Abigail. "And who might you be?"

Abigail recovered quickly enough. "Lt. Commander Abigail Wainwright of the Javan Empire," she said, shaking his hand quickly before disengaging.

"A pleasure to meet you both," said Berimund, his eyes lingering on Abigail. "We don't see many foreigners in this part of the world. While I haven't the slightest idea where Java is, it is good to see someone besides the sweaty, ugly Andalucians for once."

"You don't seem to care much for the people here," said Abigail. "Why is that?"

Berimund started to laugh as he went back behind his desk. "Have you looked around? Desert landscapes, slaves, people covered head to toe, surely you have to understand why this posting isn't the best. I'd rather be at home with my women with my feet up while one of them pops grapes into my mouth. Yet, here I am."

"It seems that you're the first Swabian we've met in our travels," said Jack. "I'll admit, I haven't heard the best things about your people."

Berimund smiled regardless. "You have to be careful with whom you ask then. Only the strong prosper in Swabia. We have little tolerance for the weak. You seem like a strong man yourself, Jack. With good taste in women," he said while gesturing to Abigail. "You'd probably like it in my country."

"I think I like my own just fine, thank you," said Jack coolly.

"No reason to take offense," said the Swabian. "Swabia isn't perfect, I'll admit that, but it's my home. I'm sure there are things that are equally great and bad about your own, right, Jack?"

"Java does have its faults," he admitted. "But I still have my loyalty to my country first."

"As it should be," said Berimund. "All we can be is loyal subjects to our countries. Faults and all, we are nothing without our own fatherlands. I can tell you understand that instinctively, Jack." Berimund clicked his teeth amusingly before taking the questioning down a different road. "Tell me more about the Javan Empire. Are there many of you?"

"There's enough of us," said Jack concisely. "Your turn, tell me more about this Lord Avila."

Berimund grinned. "Lord Avila is a great man. A great general and an even better statesman. He was instrumental in winning the war on the Nax, personally leading the charge at the final battle."

"The Nax," said Jack. "I've heard of them. Aren't they a tiny island nation? What did they do to earn the wrath of such a powerful empire?"

Berimund's smile dropped as he focused a glare on Jack. "As I stated earlier, Swabia is not a place for the weak. We are a country of strong warriors who take what we want. The Nax had land that we desired, and they weren't strong enough to keep it. So we took it from them. Isn't that the way of nature, Jack? The strong take from the weak? Are we all not bound to nature's unyielding laws?"

"Where I come from, the strong have a responsibility to protect the weak," said Jack as he crossed his arms. "To shelter them and keep them safe. It's a moral obligation that runs deep into who we are as a people."

"What a pity then," sneered Berimund. "Perhaps the nations of Java and Swabia may not be friends moving forward. Especially if we can't agree upon our . . . moral duties."

"If that's the side you find yourselves on, then perhaps we'll be at odds moving forward."

Jack watched as Berimund's nostrils flared in anger. "Lord Avila will be most disappointed to hear of this news. We finally meet someone from beyond the Vector, and they seem to suffer from the same narrow-minded outlook on the world as some of the other, lesser peoples in the Vector."

"Perhaps this Lord Avila needs to step carefully in this area of the world," suggested Jack. "Perhaps there is now someone here who can stand up to aggressors who try to threaten those who can't fight for themselves."

"You'd be wise not to speak so carelessly about the most powerful warlord within a thousand miles," said Berimund. "I've seen men lose their tongues for much less."

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get another word out, he heard a small disturbance behind him. Vera had wandered over to the partition and stuck her head through, no doubt trying to find where he and Abigail went. Once her eyes rested on him, she smiled. "There you are, Jack. We thought we lost you." She slipped through the room as her blonde hair swung freely, her headgear having been removed.

Berimund's eyes nearly bulged out in anger. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you bring this Galician witch into my presence?"

As soon as the words were spoken, Vera turned her attention to the envoy and her expression changed from shock to confusion to anger in the matter of seconds. She glared at the Swabian as her hands planted firmly on her hips.

Jack looked back and forth between them. "Do you two know each other?"

Berimund laughed maliciously. "If you've met one Galician, you've met them all, Jack. A bunch of tiresome meddlers is what they are. Always sticking their noses in other people's affairs. They can't let go of the fact that they are no longer the sole power in this part of the world and it's rankled them ever since. Isn't that right, witch?"

Vera grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly. "Come on, Jack. We need to go. Now!"

"You aren't traveling with this woman, are you, Jack? I'll give you a free piece of advice—ditch her. Galicians are more trouble than they're worth. All they do is make hassles for you. You'll find your life much worse off than before they entered it. If you like, I know a certain slaver who might pay handsomely for his next concubine!"

Jack felt his anger rising at each successive word from the Swabian envoy. Feeling his pulse begin to race, he walked forward until he was right against the face of the man. "She's not for sale. I'd choose your words more carefully if I were you."

Berimund's face twitched. "You'd be wise to take my warning. You look like a man who appreciates history. Why don't you ask your little friend what happened during the Sack of Dagobern. During the Fourth Galician War. In that answer, you'll find the true character of the Galician people, Jack."

"I've seen enough of their character to know when to trust my gut," said Jack. "I'll trust that over the words of someone who would willingly participate in slavery."

Berimund's lip curled up in a sneer as he gripped the sword at his waist. "Spoken like a true Galician. Perhaps you were meant for each other. Maybe I should just leave the witch to you. She'll destroy you in enough time anyway. They can't help themselves. Look at their pathetic country now, a shriveled wreck of its former greatness. That's what happens when you're populated by a bunch of busybodies with more blonde hair than brain cells."

"If you say one more word about her or her people like that again, I'll take your sword and cut you to pieces with it," said Jack quietly.

"Go ahead and take it," hissed Berimund. "Try it. It'll be the last stupid thing you ever do."

Before Jack could respond, the tent partition was pulled away and a very angry-looking Andalucian rushed over to get between Jack and Berimund.

"What is the meaning of this? What's going on?" said the Andalucian, firmly planting his hands on his hips.

Berimund's eyes flickered over to the man before returning to Jack. "Why, I was just greeting Commander Easterbrook, and we were discussing his arrival in Andalucia, Bathal. It seems there's much our cultures can exchange with one another."

"I don't recall giving you permission to treat with the clan chief's guests," said Bathal coldly.

Berimund snarled and looked at the Andalucian with daggers in his gaze. "I don't need permission. You forget your place, lackey!"

Bathal slinked back several steps. "Even still. You will not cause trouble in my cousin's lands. Remember the agreement," he hissed finally.

A spark of recognition passed through Berimund's eyes before he turned to face Jack once more, a thin smile appearing on his lips. "This is the end of our encounter today, Jack Easterbrook. You may not find me so welcoming on our next meeting."

"Good," said Jack. "Then I'll look forward to a proper instruction on manners when that happens." He enjoyed the look of anger in the Swabian's eyes before he turned and led Vera out of the separate partition and back out into the main waiting room. Behind him, Greg and Abigail followed, not stopping until they were on the other side of the grand tent.

"I can see that Heron and Kat weren't kidding with their descriptions of the Swabians," said Greg finally. "No wonder everyone dislikes them."

"And that was just one of them," said Jack. "Can you imagine a whole country?"

"This is an interesting development though," said Abigail. "Not the first time we've heard this Lord Avila's name and now we run into his own envoy here on the island. Not exactly auspicious and it's more proof that there is a plot afoot by the Swabians, possibly at getting local dominance."

"In this case, I think the Andalucians are just unwitting allies," said Jack. "We should get word back to Heron as well. If this Lord Avila has his own envoys here in Andalucia, it's not a good sign for Sorella."

Abigail nodded. "I'll get word back to the ship as soon as we're out of here."

"Let's just hope this Bathal doesn't keep us waiting for too much longer," added Greg.

It was another five minutes before Bathal once again emerged from seemingly nowhere, showing up practically right on top of them and surprising the group. If Jack had expected a proper greeting to the lands of the Muthada, he was soon disappointed.

"I don't know what kind of game you people are playing," started Bathal while crossing his arms in disapproval. "But stumbling into just any room in the clan chief's quarters is strictly forbidden by Andalucian custom! We've sent men into the mines for lesser offenses!"

Jack tried to turn his diplomatic side back on. "We did not mean to cause offense to your clan chief. Forgive our ways, we are not from your lands. We are from the land of Java—"

"I know where you are from and where you are going," interrupted Bathal with a dismissive wave. "Frankly, I couldn't care less about who you are. You need to get going through these lands as quickly as possible."

Jack turned to look at Greg before resuming his glance at the Andalucian. "That's our plan. You see, we are here to honor the ancient custom of offering a prayer of good fortune to your clan chief. We didn't want to travel through your lands without offering the most basic of gratitude for doing so. We also need help in locating a friend of ours who we believe was sold as a slave by mistake."

"You'll find no help here for that," said Bathal coldly. "Slavery is our way of life. If someone gets sold by mistake, tough luck. Have their parents create a replacement and do your best to forget about them. If they were purchased legally, you have no recourse."

"That's the part we're here to dispute," said Jack, feeling his anger starting to rise again. "This woman was taken from an unarmed trading vessel on its way to Picardy. There was no reason why it was to be attacked."

"Do you know how many ways we come across slaves?" interrupted Bathal. "The method doesn't matter. When they arrive on Andalucian soil in chains, they're slaves. There are no exceptions to this law. As I said, you're best to forget about your friend."

The way he emphasized the last word had Jack gritting his teeth. Abigail put a calming hand against his arm, no doubt sensing the tension.

"Fine," seethed Jack through his lips. "Then we'll give our offering and be on our way."

"You will do no such thing," said Bathal as he shook his head. "You are to be on your way out of the Muthada clan lands right away. There is no need for you to speak to our clan chief."

Jack blinked in confusion. "But we have stopped here just to complete the custom."

"That custom is not needed at this time," said Bathal. "My cousin Adulis is a busy man and he's declined to see you. Be off and on your way. As a last piece of advice before you leave—make haste through our lands. The hand that welcomes you today could wield the dagger tomorrow."

With that, Bathal turned away from the group and started his march away, leaving the rest of them lingering in sheer confusion. It was a bizarre turn of events. After all, why bring them to the very tent of the clan chief if he had no intention of meeting with them?

"Something isn't right about this," said Greg. "My gut feeling is that something is up and it involves the Swabian in some way."

"We should get back to the men and get moving on the southern road," said Jack. "If we are no longer welcome here, I don't want to stick around for a minute longer than I have to."

"Okay, let's go."

The four of them left the clan chief's tent in a hurry, walking quickly through the oasis settlement until they came across soldiers guarding the perimeter. They were let through with an apathetic nod, finding the camp of the marines just a hundred yards away, with most of them sitting on the ground and watching the Andalucians.

Right as they reached the safety of the marines, Vera tapped against Jack's shoulder. When he turned to look at her, he found the start of tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong, Vera?"

"I just wanted to say thank you for sticking up for me back there," said Vera as she wiped her eyes. "I'm not really used to anyone looking out for me, at least since my father died, but I really appreciate how you stood up to that asshole for me."

Jack smiled and pulled her in for a hug. "You're practically like family to me, Vera. I wasn't going to let someone like that talk ill about you in front of me. Especially someone who doesn't even know you."

"They are a savage people," whispered Vera against his chest. "I hope you can see now why everyone in this part of the world tries to avoid them."

"You know, I was withholding my judgment of them until we actually met one. Oh, I was still angry with what happened to you and Kat and what we've heard, but I thought there might be a chance they could be misunderstood, especially if I met one," said Jack before shaking his head. "If the whole country is just like that one, then I know which side I stand on."

Vera sniffed and looked up at him. "He was rather mild for some of the ones I've had the misfortune of meeting."

Jack started to chuckle. "I guess we'll just have to do our best to avoid them for now on. But for now, we need to get moving to the south and get to the Numratha lands."

*****

Back at Quiller's Cove, Luke headed below deck on the Valiant, walking back to his quarters. It had been a long day trying to get the ship fully restocked and refueled for their new mission. He had personally overseen the polonium refueling, making sure they would have enough of the mineral for the next few months of sailing. With all the work, he was exhausted, and he looked forward to a little down time, especially since Kim didn't have a watch tonight.

Luke started to grin the more his mind lingered on that thought. Usually when she didn't have a watch, she would sneak into his quarters to wait for him and was almost always in various stages of undress. That would be much needed tonight and as he reached his quarters, he looked forward to whatever stage she'd be in on the other side of the door.

Yet as Luke entered his quarters, darkness greeted him. Flicking on the light, there wasn't a single other soul there, causing a look of worry to develop on his face. This isn't like her.

Turning around and closing the door, he walked the short distance to her own quarters. It was late in the evening, and despite there still being a few other sailors around, he managed to go quietly until he was outside her door, offering a firm knock once he was ready.

"Come in."

Kim smiled briefly when she saw it was him before returning her attention back to the order that was on her desk. She held her head with both hands, and Luke could tell instantly that something was up.

"I'm surprised you're not in my quarters," said Luke as soon as the door was shut. "Did you have to pick up the watch tonight or something?"

Kim took a deep breath and shook her head. "No. It was just . . . a challenging day."

Luke came to sit right across from her desk. "Was anything in particular making it more challenging than other days?"

Kim sighed and brushed some of her dark-red hair out of her face. "Just the usual, I suppose. It was just getting to me more than usual."

"What is? Our new orders?"

She nodded. "It's nothing though, Luke. Let's not worry about it right now."

"Well, if it's bugging you, we should probably talk about it."

"It is and it isn't," she said cryptically. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm being strange right now."

"Right now?" asked Luke with a laugh. Kim raised an eyebrow at the tease.

"Stop it," she said with a giggle. "I'm just a little apprehensive about going back out again. Especially when we don't know what's waiting for us out there."

"A bunch of cowardly Occitanians are waiting for us," said Luke playfully. "Just waiting for us to find them and blast their ships out of the water."

Kim started to laugh. "Forget I mentioned anything. I should have known I couldn't have a serious conversation about it with you."

"Okay, okay, I'll try to be serious," he said while laughing. "Let's talk. What's really bothering you?"

Kim pushed back from her chair and went to her bed, sliding over the covers and making just enough room for him. She patted the seat as his invitation and he soon joined her. She waited until he was seated until she snuggled in close to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Is this what you wanted? Just to be close to me?" he whispered quietly.

"Somewhat, although I felt like I was being foolish about it," she said.

"Why foolish?"

"I just . . . don't know what will happen when we get back out there. Even with our reinforcements, they still outnumber us. I'm just nervous of anything happening to us. Or you."

Luke caressed her outer thigh tenderly. "Nothing is going to happen to us. We'll find them, sink them, and win. You don't need to be upset about it. This is what we're trained to do."

Kim sniffled and brought her hand to her face. "That didn't quite happen that way in Sorella. I still remember the sight of you nearly getting killed by that explosion, Luke. You don't know what that did to me to watch that happen."

"What do you mean? I'm all right," he said. "I'm fully healed now."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. One step closer and you may not be here right now. Don't you understand why that upsets me so much? What if I lost you?"

"You didn't though," he argued gently. "I'm still here. I'm not leaving you, Kim."

"Just the thought of you not being here with me just kills me, Luke," she said quietly. "You don't know how much I need you."

He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her lips. "It's as much as I need you, if not more. I'm not going anywhere. You'll always have me."

She finally met his eyes. "You're sure about that? You really mean it?"

"None whatsoever. You know as well as I do that we belong together. I'd do anything possible to stay here with you, even if that means surviving death."

She playfully swatted his chest. "You're impossible sometimes, you know that? But it doesn't change anything." Kim took a deep breath before she spoke again. "I still love you."

Luke locked his eyes with her. "You . . . love me?"

She nodded as her expression turned vulnerable. "God help me, I do. I love you, Luke."

He reached out to caress her face before placing a soft kiss against her lips. "How did we find ourselves here? This was supposed to be simple, no-stings-attached sex," he said with a chuckle. "What happened?"

"Like I know," she said with a giggle. "You were just supposed to be good in bed!"

"That I still am," he growled.

She started to laugh. "No complaints here, baby. But, I don't know. Somewhere in all those late-night trysts, I feel like something real started to develop. It really ceased just being sex for me a long time ago, if we're being honest."

"So you're saying you've been making love to me this whole time?" he teased. "No wonder it's not as wild as when we started."

She swatted him again. "It can go to nothing if you keep talking like that!"

Luke chuckled. "Just teasing you. And as long as we're being honest, I love you too."

She looked at him again. "You're sure? No doubts?"

"No doubts. I love you, Kim."

She beamed with a wide-set smile. "I love you too, Luke."

He smiled against her lips before she pushed in a deep, tender kiss. When she pulled away, Luke locked eyes on her. "You were just supposed to be my sexy redheaded booty call, you know that? I didn't mean to fall in love with you."

Kim giggled. "And you were just supposed to be a rash, overconfident officer that was good in bed. At least that part was true."

"I can show you how good I am," he growled while squeezing her ass.

Kim kissed him again, a passionate affair that started to make his cock hard. "You might need to convince me first," she teased. "After all, it was a very long day."

"I'm sure my lips and tongue could convince you."

Kim shivered against him. "That would feel just delightful right now."

He didn't say anything further before shifting out from under her quickly, earning a tiny squeal from Kim as he pulled her legs to him and pulled her trousers off in one pull. She lifted her butt to help him as he pulled off her thin, green panties and feasted on the sight of her bottomless. She was already aroused, evident by the thick shine on her lips and the heavy manner in which she was breathing.

"Oh, fuck, I love when you manhandle me," cooed Kim, as his face slipped between her legs. She shuddered once again as his tongue made first contact with her slit, slipping between the folds and tasting her arousal. It was a taste he could never get enough of, Kim's sweet honey serving to fully arouse his cock as it threatened to punch a hole through her bed.

"How do I taste, baby?" she asked as her back arched.

"Perfect," he replied. "Just like the rest of you."

She grabbed his hair with one hand as she bit down on the other, thoroughly enjoying the feel of him between her legs. Luke took his time with eating her, alternating between sucking kisses, intrusive licks, and probing fingers to find all the spots that made her body move with pleasure.

"Oh, yes, eat my pussy, Luke. Keep going and never stop," moaned Kim. "Fuck, I love how you do this. I love how you do everything to me. Get me so wet and ready for your thick cock, please, Luke?"

Luke's hand snaked back down his body to take hold of his pulsating cock. He loved the way that she talked dirty to him and as he felt himself throb in his hand, he looked forward to sinking all the way inside the gorgeous redhead.

Thankfully for him, Kim saw him teasing his own cock and that's what prompted her to move. She slipped out from next to him and gestured for him to lay on his back, only returning to his body once he was settled. This time, however, she sat her hips down against his face as her mouth sought out his cock. She quickly pulled his trousers down and Luke found himself groaning as her mouth made contact with the tip.

"That's it, babe. Suck my cock just like that," he whispered before diving back into her dripping pussy. It was to the point that her arousal was starting to drip down her thighs, and without wanting to miss a single drop of her wetness, Luke went about licking all of her exposed flesh before resuming his attention on her clit.

Kim moaned against his cock when he renewed the gentle attack on her sensitive nub. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there! Right there, Luke!"

He brought a finger to her sopping, wet hole and slipped it inside easily enough, stretching her out slightly and getting her prepared to take his cock. Once the one was fully inside, he slipped in another, and then another until he was steadily fucking her with his hand as his mouth concentrated on her clit. It had the desired effect as Kim's hips started thrusting back against his face in vigorous fashion. He recognized the movement for what it was, knowing she was getting close to the edge.

She moaned loudly as his cock slipped out of her mouth, her body beginning to shake as a rush of juices soon filled his mouth and coated his chin.

"Fuck, yes, Luke! I'm cumming. Oh, keep doing that, oh fuck it feels so good!" Kim ground her clit against his face as she rode the wave of pleasure, her breath coming in jagged pants as her body achieved sweet release.

As soon as she was done cumming, Luke was completely soaked. She had nearly drenched him with her cum and he pulled out his fingers so that he could wipe his face off. As soon as she saw him, she nearly giggled and clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, babe," she said with a smile. "I didn't realize I was so pent up."

Luke laughed along with her. "I guess I needed a shower, but I didn't think it would be that kind of shower."

Kim reached out to help him wipe it off before a strange look appeared on her face. The look didn't last long before it was replaced by a sultry smile. "That actually gives me a good idea. Come with me, okay?"

She pushed up from his body and quickly shed what was left of her uniform while Luke repeated the same motion as well. She grabbed him by the hand and led him to the bathroom of her quarters, a small little room with just enough space for a toilet and a shower. Kim turned the water on as her nude body then pressed up against Luke's.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked as he glanced at her mischievous smile.

"Something I really wanted to try," she said while pointing inside the stall. With the lack of space, getting two people in the shower would be an incredibly tight fit, and Luke had to smile to himself at the ship's builders not intending for anyone to have sex in the narrow stalls. Yet, there was something there that aided their effort, a small ledge that was just high enough off the ground and with just enough room that someone small could sit on it. Someone small like Kim.

Once the water was warm, she pulled him into the shower and shut the door behind him. At the moment, they were pressed tightly against each other, barely enough room to stand let alone to thrust. However, before anything else could happen, Kim hopped up on the small ledge and pushed back against it. She was just small enough that she could balance, and in doing so, the movement gave them just enough room to work. It also raised her hips high enough that he could slide deeply inside her without too much trouble.

Kim beckoned him forward as she spread her legs wide. "Come here and fuck me, Luke."

"With pleasure," he growled, taking hold of his cock and stepping forward. He waited until the tip nudged against her clit, slapping it against her a few times until Kim was panting with desire.

"Don't tease me any longer. Put it in. Fuck, I really need to be full of your cock, baby," she cooed.

Her words made his cock throb with desire and he aimed it just a little lower and slipped it between her velvety folds. Kim moaned as soon as he pushed the tip inside, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in tighter. The effect pushed him deeper inside her and the next time he looked down, his cock was fully inside the gorgeous redhead.

"That's something I never get tired of seeing," said Luke as he gestured to their waists. "I love seeing you full of my cock."

Kim smiled and caressed his face. "And I love how you fill me. It's like you stretch open places that I never knew existed."

"You mean places like here?" he asked while pulling his hips all the way back and thrusting forward hard again.

Kim yelped and then nodded, her hips pushing a counterthrust back against him. "Just like that, baby. Fuck me hard and don't stop. I want to be full of your cum when we go to sleep tonight."

"God, I love when you talk like that," he said, his hips soon creating a steady rhythm as they fucked with passion under the shower. There was no more erotic sight than that of Kim spread open in front of him, her mouth panting with desire as beads of water slid down her tits. She was huffing with every thrust, moaning every time he picked up the pace, and sliding her hands all along his back and butt to pull him in deeper.

"Harder, Luke. I won't break. Pound me harder and give me your perfect cock," moaned Kim as she bit her lip.

He obliged willingly, thrusting into her body with more force as their rhythm began more erratic and forceful. Above the waist, she cupped her tits and offered him the nipple, which he soon took into his mouth and sucked on until it was fully erect in his mouth.

"Oh, fuck, I'm going to cum again soon. I'm so close," she moaned, working her hips back at him with a furious pace.

"Cum all over my cock, Kim. I want to see your gorgeous face when you start to cum because of me," he said, using a free hand to gently play with her clit.

Her mouth dropped open suddenly as her body seized up, her chest soon turning a deep red in color as her orgasm hit. In the next moment, her pussy began to squeeze and clamp down on his cock, milking his orgasm from so deep in his body. It was a sensation he couldn't resist and she knew it, wanting him to achieve orgasm as well.

"Cum so deep in my body, Luke. Own me, claim me, make me yours," she urged while holding him tight.

Luke groaned loudly as his orgasm overtook him, and he pushed his hips in tight as several powerful spurts of cum soon shot into his lover. Kim moaned with content as she felt him fill her up, kissing him tenderly as the fruits of their passion filled her pussy.

"I love you so much," she whispered against his lips.

"And I love you, Kim," he said in return. For the next few moments, they simply held each other, content in the knowledge and the experience of their newfound affection.

Their world had changed for the better that night. For their love, there would be no going back.

*****

The day after leaving the territory of the Muthada, Jack watched from the shores of Andalucia as another platoon of marines unloaded from their launch boats and joined his forces on the island. It had been a tense evening, a night filled with almost too much silence as they sought to put some distance between themselves and the Andalucians. With how the meeting went with the Muthada yesterday, and the poor first reception at Methusa, Jack thought it wise to have some more firepower with him on shore.

"We'll have half our forces with us," said Greg from his side. "About eighty marines now."

"Good," said Jack. "Something tells me we'll need them sooner rather than later. This land is starting to give me a bad feeling."

"And we don't feel any closer to our quarry," added Greg. "I would have thought someone like Kat might be easier to find in a country like this one, but those slave traders must cover ground quickly."

"We have to keep trying. I don't want to leave her out here too long. With what they did to Vera, each passing day could make her fate worse."

Greg leaned in a little closer. "You mean, potentially make her a sex slave to one of them."

Jack didn't respond except for a subtle nod of the head.

"Forsaken desert country. Fucking rats," swore Greg. "We'll find her before then. There's not a force in this world that can withstand Javan marines on the hunt."

"I hope so, Greg. I sure hope so."

Luckily for them, the next two days passed without issue. At one point, Jack even had some luck stopping a pair of traders on their way north who were kind enough to let them know they were encroaching on the land of the Numratha. Their directions proved to be remarkably accurate and soon only a small low-lying plateau shielded them from what should have been the home of the clan.

"Just over that ridge," said Jack as they walked along the coastal road. The three platoons with them were very spread out, with one scouting the land in front of them, one protecting the middle, and the final preventing anyone from sneaking up on them.

"It's about time," said Abigail before taking a drink of water. "This country is starting to get to me. It's just too damn hot!"

"You can say that again," added Vera. "I'd almost forgotten the heat the last time. I feel like I'm about to sweat through my clothes!"

"You know, now that we're here, what exactly is the plan should Kat be with the Numratha?" asked Greg. "I doubt they'll give her to us even if we ask nicely."

"No doubt you're right," said Jack. "We'll have to give them the only thing we can. I'll attempt to purchase her from them as long as they are civil."

"And if they aren't civil?" asked Abigail.

Jack pointed to the closest marine. "That's why I brought them along."

"I just hope she's all right. It's felt like ages since I last saw her," said Vera.

That was Jack's main hope as well—that Kat was safe and not hurt. He wanted to voice his agreements with Vera but chose to remain silent, knowing the woman still carried an unhealthy amount of blame for Kat's fate on her own shoulders.

"I'm sure she is. Kat's made of tough stuff. She spent so much time traveling the world before this that I'm sure she has to be all right," said Jack with confidence, even if he was more worried internally than he let on publicly.

Vera looked over to him and smiled. "I certainly hope you're right."

Jack turned his attention back to the road ahead of them, watching as the first group of marines crested the plateau and then moved to the edge. He could tell something was wrong when they stopped, the forward teams pointing down to the opposite side of the plateau in a state of confusion. As soon as they stopped, they sent a marine back with a message for Greg.

"Sir, it looks like we've come to the camp of the Numratha clan," said the marine, a man Jack recognized as having the name Todd.

"How big is it, Todd? Are there a lot of people down there?" asked Greg.

Todd shook his head. "There's none, sir. Not a soul in sight. The camp looks recently abandoned."

"Abandoned?" Greg questioned. "How could it be a camp if it's abandoned?"

Todd waved him forward. "Come see for yourself. It looks like they left in a hurry."

Jack and Greg followed Todd as he jogged back to the front platoon. They quickly ascended to the top of the plateau and then crossed to the edge to look out, seeing instantly what Todd meant as Jack's eyes fixed on the scene below.

Whomever had been there had certainly left quickly. The small valley that was sandwiched between this plateau and another had a small smattering of grass in between and a tiny stream that zigzagged through the land on its way to the ocean. On both sides of the stream, Jack could see the remains of tents. Not enough to suggest disaster, but just enough in number that whomever had been there had left quickly and recently. Personal belongings were cast about in every which manner, and Jack could see piles of clothing, pottery, and even some slave chains in the grass by the stream.

"They couldn't have left that long ago," said Greg. "This doesn't feel right at all."

"But why would they leave, Greg? The trader from yesterday said they were still here and so that means they were still camped here as long as two days ago. This feels more recent than that though."

"Maybe they got word we were coming," said Greg ominously.

"To what purpose though?" asked Jack. "We're not here to make war."

"True but if you saw eighty some foreigner soldiers about to burst into your neighborhood, I'm sure they weren't going to stick around to see if we were peaceful. Maybe we scared them?"

Jack shook his head. "I can't see the Andalucians running scared. We only have slightly more soldiers than we did the day we saw the Muthada and even they were content to stare us down before we were turned away for no good reason. Something about this feels calculated."

"Do you think they might be up to something? Maybe they plan to attack us?"

"It's definitely a possibility," said Jack before Greg took a few steps forward and pointed out to the horizon further inland.

"Do you see that, Jack? Out there just over that next plateau? What does that look like to you?"

Jack squinted his eyes to take a further look before trying out his binoculars instead. He could tell there was some kind of disturbance further inland but whatever it was, it raised one of hell of a dust cloud along the way.

"Those are dust clouds," said Jack finally. "I bet those have to be the Numratha. They have to be moving away from the coast at this point."

"Do we follow them? We're safest along the coast where we can call for backup in the form of reinforcements and firepower from the Destiny. If we get deeper into the country, we may sacrifice those two strengths for the mobility."

"We have to keep following them," said Jack. "Now that we are so close, we can't turn away now. I'll get orders to the Destiny to stay close to the coast should we need her and the rest of the platoons. Have the rest of the marines on ready should we give the order for assistance," said Jack.

As Greg radioed the orders back to the marines on the ship, Abigail and Vera caught up with Jack. "Jack, is everything okay?"

"The Numratha are pushing further into the interior and we think they may be up to no good. We're going to go after them!"

After all the marines were briefed on the change of plans, they descended into the valley and crossed the stream, following after the well-worn tracks of the Numratha as they continued into the central highlands of the island.

It was even more cruel country than being on the coast, for at least a steady breeze came in off the ocean to keep the temperature remotely bearable for the last few days. However, once they were away from the water, that breeze disappeared, and Jack found the temperature spiking the further they got from the sea.

It was only a few short hours after they made it to the original campsite that Jack heard the sound of gunfire coming from behind him.

"Those are NT-12s," said Greg with an excitable yell. "We have to get back and see what happened!"

The two men unslung their own rifles and rushed toward the back of their group, moving as quickly as they could through the sandy terrain. The platoon that had been guarding their rear was the one that had engaged with their rifles, and as soon as Jack found the main area where they were located, he could tell what happened.

One of the marines was laying prone against the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back leg while his squad covered the immediate vicinity behind them. Jack could tell several of the men were missing, and a quick report by one of the lieutenants in charge of the platoon let them know exactly what happened.

"We were attacked from behind," said the officer, Lt. Bridge, as they bent over the wounded man. "While we passed this narrow ridge to our side, some of those bastards popped up over the top and began to shoot at us. They got Jeffries there in the leg before we were able to shoot them off. They should have some dead ones up on that ledge, but I sent a couple squads to our rear to protect ourselves."

"Call those men back right away," said Greg. "We can't afford for them to get separated and cut off. Bring those men in closer and keep an eye on your surroundings." Greg then turned to the wounded man. "Jeffries, how are you feeling?"

Jeffries groaned as he tried to push off the ground. "The fucking arrow hurts like a bitch, sir."

"Yeah, well it's bleeding like one too," said Greg to a nearby marine. "Get him up front and onto a makeshift stretcher. He won't be walking anytime soon. Someone who can climb, get up on that ridge and bring one of those bodies down, will you?"

As Jeffries was pulled away to be attended to, another marine was able to climb up the narrow rock face of the nearby ledge while his comrades covered his ascent. As soon as he reached the top, he looked down at the rest of them. "We have three bodies up here. What do you want me to do with them?"

"Throw them down here," said Greg. "Let's get a look at the bastards."

The marine picked up the first body and heaved it over the ledge, landing with barely any noise as it rolled over a few times in the sand below. He did the same thing with the other two bodies before scampering down the ledge once more.

"Looks like those Muthada guys we saw a couple days ago," said Greg as he bent down to inspect the bodies. They were clothed in the same manner as the first tribe they'd encountered, and Jack had no doubt they had probably looked upon the soldiers on their way to see the clan chief.

"So now we have the Muthada making moves against our rear while the Numratha pulls us deeper into the country," said Jack. "Sounds like a trap."

"Agreed. Do you want the rest of the platoons to come out?"

"Yes, send them all. I have a feeling we'll need them. We need to pick up the pace as soon as we can. The quicker we reach the Numratha, the quicker we can recover Kat."

"Those bows of theirs may be deadlier than we expected. It went clear through the leg of Jeffries and left a nasty little exit wound," said Greg. "I have a feeling it'll be a long time before he walks again."

"Make sure the men know what they're up against. We still have quite an advantage in weaponry but the further inland we get, the more the terrain will suit the enemy, potentially leading to ambush sites. We need to be careful." Jack then took a deep breath and searched the terrain behind him. Seeing something that caught his eye, he brought his binoculars back up to his face and watched as several Andalucians appeared in the distance behind them.

"I can see them there, along that ridge," said Jack, pointing the way to Greg. "They are following the same path as we did. They look to be a good half a day behind us so it's possible this skirmish was with their scouts."

"They must have started moving as soon as we left their camp to be this close to us. That was a quick decision for them to get moving so soon."

"And with the Numratha moving as well, something about this feels too coordinated to me," said Jack. "I think we should consider the possibility that both clans may be working together."

"And if they are? When are we to do then? Especially if they decide to press an attack?"

"We hold them off as best we can. Last I checked, there were still only a few hundred warriors at the Muthada camp. I'm sure six platoons of marines can hold them off for that long, especially in this kind of terrain."

"That's just the Muthada though, Jack. We have no idea what kind of numbers the Numratha have. Or if there may be others joining in on the attack."

"We're not too far out from the coast, so hopefully we can get the rest of the platoons here in a hurry. Perhaps when they fall in behind the Muthada, we might be able to scare them off our trail so we can focus on the Numratha."

Greg started to nod. "It's the best shot we have. Come on, let's tell the rest of the platoons what we're up against. I don't want anyone else getting surprised by a shot to the leg."

The two men moved quickly ahead, stopping to talk with each platoon as they made their way to the front of the column once more. It was near three o'clock in the afternoon when they received another report from the scouts in front of the column that brought more troubling news.

"Sir, the dust cloud that we've been following from the clan in front of us has all but dissipated," said the marine scout to Greg and Jack.

"Where the hell did they go? It's not like they could've just vanished into thin air?" yelled Greg.

"We're still looking, sir, but it's possible the terrain may be different up ahead or perhaps the clan has stopped."

"Why would they stop if we're hot on their tracks?" asked Jack. "We've been gaining on them for hours now."

"Nothing that happens in this country makes sense," said Greg before turning to the marine. "What's the terrain like just on ahead of the forward position?"

"Still hilly and rocky. Not as much sand as on the coast but still jagged country to fight in."

"It won't be the easiest country to attack in either," said Greg. "Terrain of such quality will lend a considerable advantage to a defender, should they choose to attack us."

"Let's keep moving. Everyone needs to keep on high alert. Especially in a country that we know little of," said Jack.

The first sign of serious trouble came about a half hour later. The entire group of Javans had climbed to the summit of another plateau, high above the rest of the country. This area of Andalucia was part of a rocky spine that bisected the country and ran all the way to the sea in a northeasterly direction. Along the sides of the plateau, sheer faces and steep cliffs allowed for only one possible passage through the desolate country.

It was only as the front platoon started down the path on the other side that they ran into an ambush from the Numratha, finally giving reason for the lack of dust clouds on the path in front of them. At some point, they had stopped and arrayed themselves into positions for an attack, their warriors springing forth from the rock to let loose an onslaught of arrows on the front ranks.

The position they were in was extremely precarious—the descending slope from the plateau too exposed to mount a proper defense. As the arrows began to fall upon them, Jack and Greg yelled for them to pull back to the top of the plateau, where they would have a better chance at defense.

"Pull back now! Get back to the top where we can rain down fire on these bastards," roared Greg as squad after squad executed a fighting retreat as men started to fall close to the attacking Numratha.

"Come on, Vera," yelled Jack as he tried his best to shelter the blonde woman from the storm of arrows. "Stay next to me and keep yourself low to the ground!"

Next to him, Abigail hurriedly fired her service pistol as she backed her way up the plateau. In front of them, the Numratha hurriedly rushed forward, feeling brave enough to push forward their attack at the sight of a temporarily retreating enemy. The bravest of them were mowed down near the top of the plateau as several of the squads that had set up first proved to be in the best position to offer covering fire for anyone else still struggling up the plateau.

For himself, Jack found a decent-sized rock to shelter Vera and Abigail behind before he was able to offer supporting fire himself. Yet, the slow trickle of brave Numratha who kept charging up the hill soon turned into a full-fledged flood as over two hundred warriors pushed up on a position occupied by only thirty men. The flashes of muzzles were constant, the noise deafening, and the war cry of the Andalucians unrelenting as the battle raged in front of them.

Jack kept up the steady fire as some elements of the middle platoon soon joined them, finding their own cover and managing to push the Numratha back down the slope for the first time. It was at that moment, when triumph should have been near, that Jack received terrible news.

"Sir, we're under attack behind us as well!" said a marine who had just rushed over to Jack, crouching down beside him. Jack looked at the man, recognizing him from one of the squads that had the wounded man from earlier.

"We're under attack in front of us too, marine!" said Jack before getting off a few more bursts.

"You don't understand, sir! They are going to break through in the rear! We've taken heavy casualties so far and we need more men to hold the top of the plateau!"

"Shit," swore Jack, looking back behind him. He could already see the blasts of the muzzles as the rear platoon fought off the attacking Muthada from the other side. It was a good plan and for the first time, he could see the deception of both clans working together to attack on two fronts, with only his men in the middle.

However, with the situation not being so dire in the front, Jack could mount a rescue in the rear. "Okay, second platoon on me! The situation to our rear is precarious, so follow me and let's help our comrades!"

Jack left Vera and Abigail with Greg and the rest of the front platoon as he rushed about with the second to come to the aid of the rear. The short journey to the other side of the plateau felt like it took hours to cross as the sounds of gunfire grew louder still. By the rapid bursts of fire, he could tell the action here was much thicker than at the front.

Finally, he reached the edge of the plateau and looked down only to see several hundred warriors of the Muthada, nearly their entire force, attacking up the other slope of the plateau. Jack picked a suitable rock to shield behind, opening up with short bursts of fire as they began to mow the attackers down. Even with the added firepower, it was still a tense situation and the Muthada were not so easily pushed back down the hill.

If it was even possible, their war cries grew louder, and when joined with the shrieks of men struck down by bullet or arrow, it made for quite the maddening sound as the battle raged back and forth. At one point, it looked like the Muthada would push them back across the length of the plateau, so strong was their grasp of the summit right near the slope. It was only the trained accuracy and the cool heads of the marines that they were able to steadily push them back down again. Soon enough, they began to retreat, pulling back down the slope in a measured retreat.

"They're pulling back, sir!" yelled the marine at his side. "We're winning!"

"They're pulling back for now," corrected Jack. "It doesn't mean they won't try again. Especially if they think they have numbers on their side."

The marine turned to look behind them to the front of their column. "It sounds like the battle is picking up at the front again!"

Jack turned to look and sure enough the sounds of gunfire and the sight of muzzle blasts soon caught his attention. The attacks were relentless, and despite how many of them they killed, the Andalucians kept pressing the attack.

Jack turned back to the marine and the rest of his squad nearby. "You men, come with me. The rest of the platoon stays here in case the Muthada launch another attempt. Send a runner to find me or Major Vaughn should that happen. We need to come to the aid of the front!"

Sprinting once again, Jack led the team of four men back across the plateau. The middle part of the landscape now was filled with the wounded, most of them limping or crawling away from danger to get a respite from the battle. Jack grimaced as he saw a good many of them completely riddled with arrows, their still bodies long since having stopped breathing. It was a terrible way to go.

Reaching the front of the column from a renewed attack by the Numratha with a concentrated portion of their numbers. Seemingly a much larger clan than the Muthada, the Numratha warriors pushed forward with reckless aggression and complete disregard for injury or death. They attacked like men possessed, scarcely letting one wound prevent them charging up the slope.

The battle seemed to be at its most precarious portion as Jack and the reinforcements arrived. Jack took the same spot he had before, seeing a relieved look on Abigail's face as she saw him come back and begin to pour lead into the attackers. A short period of rapid fire evolved afterward as several of the Numratha got close enough to try to engage with their short swords. After several close calls, including one where Jack downed an attacker only five feet in front of his position, the attack started to lose strength. As the bodies of the Andalucians started to pile up along the slope of the plateau, the attackers found it harder and harder to keep the attacked pressed forward with the same momentum. Soon enough, it all but fell apart.

"I think we're finally pushing them back," said Abigail as she fired a few more shots at the backs of the Numratha as they started down the slope.

Unfortunately, it seemed that as the Numratha started to melt away, several of the squads of marines near the front soon started to follow in their wake. Jack watched as two squads in particular emerged from behind their positions and started to press forward, hoping to chase what was left of the Andalucian clan all the way back to their starting positions.

Jack moved out from behind his rock to find Greg, who was taking care of a wounded man just ten feet away.

"You've got a few squads pressing forward back down the slope. We shouldn't let those men get too far ahead."

Greg started to nod. "Agreed. I wouldn't put it past those bastards to fake a retreat just to turn on any of our boys that start to go after them. Come on, let's pull them back."

After leaving the wounded man in another marine's care, the two men quickly dashed down the slope, carefully stepping over the remains of the Numratha warriors and the few Javans that didn't make it up the slope when the battle began. In front of them, about seven men were still giving chase after the retreating warriors, and Greg soon sounded a whistle to get their attention.

"Pull back! Stop attacking them and pull back to the camp!"

The men stopped in their tracks, their eagerness to keep up the attack still evident on their faces. Only with reluctance did they come back to Greg. "But, sir, we've got them on the run! They're retreating! Let's keep going and end this right here and now!"

Greg shook his head. "We're too few in number to put up an accurate chase right now, and we have too many wounded that need attention. My worry is that they might turn on us once we're off this plateau and then they can crush us with their superior numbers. The safe position right now is to wait on the plateau for reinforcements."

The man in front wanted to argue but knew better. He tried to plead with his commander instead. "But, sir, too many men have died today to let them get away. We can't just let them run after such an attack."

Greg put his hand on the marine's shoulder. "There will be plenty of time for retribution. This whole country seems to not like us. Let's tend to our wounded brothers first, get some fresh troops in our lines, and then we can keep moving. We don't intend to let these assholes just melt into the terrain without getting their comeuppance."

The marine nodded his head only reluctantly. He was a young man, prone to hotheadedness and didn't like being asked to give up the attack so easily. Jack could sympathize with the man. It wasn't too long ago that he had a very similar mentality when it came to battle.

As Jack and Greg brought the two squads back to the top of the slope, they went about setting a defensive perimeter should the clans get any further ideas about pressing another attack. Then it was time to take care of the wounded. Out of eighty-one marines that had engaged the Andalucian clans, only sixty-two were left standing without wounds. Twelve of those casualties were dead and the other seven wounded. Yet as grievous as their casualties were, it was nothing compared to that of the enemy.

"I just got word of the count of bodies," said Greg about an hour later once dusk was quickly approaching. "Nearly three hundred dead at the front of the column, which would be the Numratha warriors. At the rear, about a hundred-eighty."

Jack let out a low whistle. "A heavy price to pay with little to show for it. For the Muthada especially, that's nearly forty percent of their entire warrior force."

"They'll be hurting moving forward, that's for sure," said Greg. "Even if we don't know the true count of the Numratha, I would think they wouldn't repeat such a deadly attack again. But we'll have to see what happens."

"I'll feel better once our reinforcements arrive," said Jack before turning once again to the mound of the dead. "Were we able to capture any of the Andalucians alive?"

"Just a few actually. Our boys know how to take them down so we only have a small handful of the enemy that are still alive," said Greg. "Come over here to see them."

Greg led him to a small portion of the cliff where only those Andalucians that were still alive were getting some attention. Many of them had grievous wounds, and Jack was sure a good portion of them wouldn't live to see tomorrow. One man even had a completely severed leg although how that happened, Jack had no idea. Most of them seemed reluctant to even acknowledge the presence of the Javans, even while receiving medical care.

"My name is Commander Jack Easterbrook," said Jack to the wounded men. "I'm in charge of this force that you attacked today. Are all of you men part of either the Numratha or Muthada clans?"

As he expected, they didn't answer him. Several of them were too wounded to care, more concerned with staying alive than responding to questions. A few of them scoffed at Jack's words, turning their attention elsewhere. Only a couple of men looked like they were ready to talk, and it was to them that Jack focused his attention next.

"We don't know why you attacked us," he said while looking at those few men. "We are foreigners to your country, and we're trying to figure out where one of our friends is, someone we believe is with the Numratha clan. Why did you attack us?"

"Because our clan chief told us to," said one man simply, who had been wounded in the arm. It must have been a severe wound because it was already bleeding through the bandage that had been applied just a short time ago.

"And why was that? What purpose does it serve your clan chief to attack us?"

"Because the Muthada requested it," the Andalucian responded. "The Numratha and the Muthada have a blood alliance. That means they will fight and die together. Whatever you did must have pissed off the Muthada. They sent word to us to lead you into the mountains so we could eliminate you at once."

Jack shook his head. "All we did was stop to offer a prayer of good fortune. How could that have pissed anyone off?"

The captive warrior shrugged his single, unwounded shoulder without offering any further words. It was Greg that turned to Jack next. "Perhaps our Swabian friend had something to do with this?"

"The envoy?" asked Jack. "Yes, that very well could be. This is somewhat worse than I thought though. Now that both clans are hostile to us, we're going to have to constantly be on guard our entire time in this country."

Greg nodded and turned to address the wounded man once more. "You there. How do you end a blood alliance? What would stop them from attacking us?"

The soldier blinked at them. "Blood alliances are sealed with the blood of the clan chiefs. The only way they end is when the clan chiefs are dead."

"Well, I guess that answers that question," said Greg. "It looks like we have to keep going until we kill both of them."

Jack grimaced at the thought. The longer they stayed in Andalucia, the muddier things were getting.