Back in Septhada, Lina stood by the steel gate, the only entrance into the whore pens of the high clan king. Lina tapped her foot absentmindedly as she waited, knowing the other woman was due back at any time. Having slept with Vertulis more times than she could count, she also knew just how long he lasted during coitus, and for that reason, she expected to see the other woman within the next few minutes.

It wasn't uncommon for her to wait on the comings and goings of the other whores in the pen. After all, she was the first of them, and no doubt she would also be the last long after Vertulis had tired of them all. Lina had such a long relationship with Vertulis that it went back to the time when he was merely clan chief of the Burlada, bringing her with him upon his ascension to the throne. There were a handful of other girls brought with him at the time, all of them no longer around. But Lina was.

She'd earned the rightful position amongst the rest of the girls due to that longevity. She was the first "wife" of the king, in name if not in official title. Lina credited that to her good looks which had kept with her throughout the years. Now that she was in her late thirties, her body was starting to show the telltale signs of aging, yet the king hardly seemed to care, still sending for her with regular frequency even despite having the choice of younger and tighter competition. It was that very fact that led Lina to keep her head high, knowing that she was first amongst the rest of the whores.

Being the oldest and the longest served, it also carried a certain authority with the rest of the girls. As the first "wife" of the king, she looked out for the other girls, cared for them, and acted as their advocate when needed. On the other hand, she also got rid of troublemakers—those girls who had no right to be in the harem whether by actions or speech. She always exhibited a clinical approach to that matter, not only eliminating those that refused to perform well for the king but also those that were likely to steal the thunder of the other girls.

Lina remembered one girl in particular who was too pretty for her own good and stealing too much of the king's attention from the other girls. Lina had arranged for a careful "accident" that removed her from the pens permanently (it also removed her life permanently but such is life in the palace). Such strong action was needed for the security of the rest of the girls in the pen. It was important that one girl didn't gain too much power in the harem, and Lina was the main arbiter in that matter.

Footsteps echoed along the corridor in front of her, snapping her attention back to the present. Two sets of footsteps and judging by the sounds of their voices, the king was with the other whore as an escort.

"You did an excellent job tonight, lovely. Now, get that ass of yours back in the pen," said Vertulis playfully. There was an echo of flesh meeting flesh, and by the way the whore rubbed her bottom when she came into view, Lina could tell she'd just had her ass thoroughly smacked.

"It pleases me to please you, sire," said the whore, Nadira, as she scampered through the open metal bars.

"Still waiting up for us, Lina?" asked Vertulis as soon as he was close by. "I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Not at all, sire," said Lina with words sweet as honey. "Perhaps you'd fancy another go around with me this time?"

Vertulis started to laugh before grabbing his cock. "I'm well-drained tonight so that won't be necessary. Besides, the next one I want to break in is that one." He pointed to another girl off in the corner.

Lina followed his pointing to the new addition, the mid-twenties blonde girl sulking in the corner. While she was no doubt beautiful, she also didn't talk to the other girls, a mysterious entity that meant Lina had no idea what to make of her. However, it was clear that Vertulis was most interesting in breaking her in.

"When her training is complete, I might just have to let the rest of you go," said Vertulis with a heavy laugh. "I think her alone will keep me sated for months!"

Lina managed a polite smile although she was seething on the inside. That was hardly such a matter for him to joke about as she knew the fate of the girls who were thrown out of the palace harem. It wasn't worth it for one girl to gain too much power over the others, and as Lina evaluated the new arrival, she saw a very real threat to her position.

We can't have that, now can we?

"You girls enjoy the rest of your night," said Vertulis before applying another heavy smack against Nadira's ample bottom. The woman nearly yelped before scampering back into the pens, the metal bars closing with a heavy creak. The king was quick on his feet as he headed back to his chambers, soon disappearing from sight and sound.

Nadira groaned as she rubbed her ass once more. "I wish he'd quit doing that," she grumbled as she rested against the bars.

"It's your own fault, you know?" said Lina with a chuckle. "If you didn't lead with your ass, he wouldn't give it so much attention."

"If I didn't lead with my ass, I'd never see any attention," said Nadira. "I'd be like poor, fat Ralah, never seeing any requests from the king. How she still stays here is beyond me." Nadira gestured to an older woman on the other side of the harem who was sleeping peacefully.

"Ralah stays because she's no threat to anyone," said Lina. "But you are right about one thing. In here, attention is power." Her gaze turned back to the blonde woman, a snarl forming on her lips.

"You're thinking about the new addition again, aren't you?" questioned Nadira. "Do you think the king means what he says?"

"He's nearly done it before when a beautiful whore gets put in the pens," said Lina. "Even though he's a man of many tastes, he's prone to focusing on the beautiful and exotic. That blonde is certainly exotic for Andalucia."

"I'd be more tolerant of her if she wasn't so quiet all the time," said Nadira with a sour face. "She acts like she's too good to be a whore."

"Not everyone is so readily accepting of their fate," said Lina. "If I recall correctly, you took a long time for them to break in as well."

Nadira shrugged. "At least I was friendly with the other girls. It's probably the reason I'm still here."

"And it's the reason why she won't be," said Lina. "I don't like the way he looks at her. When she's fully trained to start entertaining the king, all of us won't see action for weeks."

"Do you really think it would be that bad, Lina?"

The older woman nodded. "I know the king and his tastes. I've been here longer than anyone, remember? That blonde is a threat to all of us."

"Then let's slit her throat in the darkness and be done with it," said Nadira with a simple shrug. "It's not like other whores in the past haven't met similar ends."

"Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind already," said Lina. "But with how he looks at her, he'd be enraged to find her so callously disposed of. We'd need to be more subtle about it."

"Any suggestions then?"

"I'm still thinking about it," said Lina with a defeated tone. "But one thing is certain, we will not let her steal the attention of the king."

Nadira started to laugh and walked closer to Lina. "That's what I love about you. You're such a delightfully evil bitch that I can't stand it."

Lina let out a girlish giggle. "Only you would make something that normally sounds so terrible sound so good."

"You know what else would sound so good right now?" asked Nadira as she pressed her body against Lina's. "Some of your tongue-lapping against my cunt."

Lina grinned and kissed the other woman. Part of her position as the official "wife" of the harem was taking care of the other girls. And Lina always made sure they were well taken care of. It was part of her preference anyway, the older woman enjoying the taste of men and women. It was just another way for her to assert her authority over the rest of the girls—her way of taking care of them and showing them who maintained the integrity of the harem. It also didn't hurt that she loved the taste of them especially after they'd just laid with the king.

"I'm not sure I should indulge your request," said Lina as soon as she pulled away from the kiss. "I haven't gotten a taste of the king in over a week."

Nadira put one foot on a chair in front of them, her legs spread apart while she swiped a hand between them. "Good for you, I have plenty of the king that you can taste right here. Surely you don't want all of this to go to waste." Her hands glistened with the seed of the king, thick and viscous in quality.

Lina grabbed the woman's fingers and brought them to her mouth, taking in the sweet and tangy taste of the man they called king. She lathered her tongue over Nadira's fingers, making sure every drop of his seed slipped down her throat.

"I know how much you love the taste of him," whispered Nadira. "Why don't you get it straight from the source?"

Lina sucked all of her fingers dry before giving a sultry look to Nadira. "Sit down on the chair and spread your legs."

Nadira giggled before following the order, leaning back against the chair as her legs spread out wide before the older woman. Lina gazed longingly as the woman's slit, red and juicy from her recent activities. She could just barely detect a whisper of silvery discharge that coated her lips, soon to be filling her belly.

Lina slipped between her legs, her eyes feasting on the completely shaven snatch in front of her. Nadira was quite different from herself, preferring to stay on the shaven side instead of keeping her more natural, furry disposition.

The older woman brought her fingers to Nadira's slick entrance, cupping her pussy and scooping out another healthy amount of discharge. "He really filled you tonight. You are positively filled to the brim with his semen."

"He really rode me hard, Lina. The poor man was so pent-up with frustration that he let it all loose in my cunt." Lina delivered a small smack against her pussy, the wetness making a delightful sound.

Lina's tongue slipped out to taste the spent seed, gathering a heavy dollop on her tongue and swallowing it whole.

"How do we taste, love?" purred Nadira.

Lina moaned. "Positively delightful. I could feast on the two of you for hours and never be sated."

Nadira started to giggle. "Lucky for you, I think you'll get your fill with all that's down there."

Lina gave a sultry grin before her tongue slipped out and slid between the girl's slick folds. Nadira's head fell back, her hands reaching up to her tits to caress them, kneading and pinching the supple flesh. "I so love how you lick me. Not a single one of the other girls takes the time to tease and explore like you do."

Lina looked up at her. "I've picked up several tricks over the years I've been here. I've been eating cunt since you were suckling at your mother's breast."

Nadira let out a low moan as she smacked her clit again. "Keep going, please? I'd like to have at least one orgasm tonight."

"My pleasure." Lina snuck her tongue between the woman's folds once more, lapping against her shaven snatch as if it was their last night together. Of all the girls in the pens, she'd always enjoyed the sweet, tangy taste of Nadira the best. Perhaps it was why the two women were so close. There had only been one other woman in the pens throughout Lina's life that tasted better than the cunt in front of her, and that poor girl was kicked out after three weeks when the king was done with her. Lina had learned to make do with what she had.

And Nadira's pussy was especially sating.

A quick glance up to the younger woman found her panting heavily, her eyes closed as her teeth jutted out to bite her lip. Nadira's fingers were making delicate pinches of her engorged nipples, the flesh being teased into a stiff arousal. Lina grinned against her shaven cunt, taking a few moments to tease her by fingers and tongue.

"Oh, right there," moaned Nadira as one tongue-lashing passed over her hooded nub. "Tease my clit."

"You mean right here?" Lina stuck her tongue against it and flickered the hot button, waiting for Nadira's body to shudder at the contact. She didn't disappoint, soon grinding her lower half against the older woman's mouth.

Nadira grabbed hold of her own hair and tossed it over her shoulder. With her now free hand, she grabbed the base of Lina's neck, holding her in place against her lower half. It was obvious the younger woman was completely worked up, her labia open and waiting for more attention. The discharge coming from them was still almost silver in color, a mixture of her own juices and the king's spent force.

Lina turned her attention away from her clit and moved her tongue down to the woman's moist opening, lapping up the sweet juices emanating from her well-fucked hole. She moved her tongue with force, lashing and flickering against the opening before sliding inside and teasing Nadira's slippery walls.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Right there, Lina," panted Nadira as she applied more pressure against Lina's head.

Nadira wasn't the only one that was completely drenched. Lina resisted the urge to drop a hand between her own thighs, having to make do with rubbing her clit against the leg of the chair in front of them. It was a terrible compromise, one which she hoped Nadira would rectify soon.

"You're going to make me cum. Fuck, Lina, keep licking me right just like that. Fuck, so good. So talented. Lick my cunt." Nadira started to squirm in her chair, buckling her hips as Lina's attentions became more vigorous.

Just when she was about to give up hope, Nadira leaned forward and cupped her own pussy, slipping her hand between her hairy snatch and the leg of the chair. "You're positively dripping, Lina," purred Nadira with a honeyed voice. "It seems you need some attention as well."

Lina whimpered against her cunt. She only said one word. "Please."

Nadira moaned and threw her head back as her fingers slid through the woman's dark pubic hair and into her wetness. Lina let out a low hiss at the intrusion, her tongue finding a renewed effort to please the younger woman. Both of them worked in tandem, no doubt an interesting sight for the other girls as they writhed together in pleasure. Lina was so turned on that it wouldn't take long for her to achieve release, Nadira's talented fingers already finding a steady groove as they worked her cunt. The younger woman was moaning loudly now, causing Lina to wonder if even the king earned such a performance from the younger whore.

She wouldn't last much longer. In a stunning display of feminine glory, Nadira's hips buckled as she finally achieved orgasm, Lina noticing a heavier quantity of sweet fluids filling her mouth and splashing against her chin as Nadira rode the waves of pleasure. She kept up steady pressure on her clit to help get her through the orgasm as Nadira's fingers took a temporary break due to lack of control. Lina resisted the urge to whimper in frustration, awaiting the other woman's recovery.

"That was just what I needed," said Nadira, her eyes popping open with glassy satisfaction as soon as she recovered.

"I'm so happy I could please you," said Lina with a giggle.

"Speaking of pleasing, I believe I have a job to finish?" Her fingers once more moved with alarming frequency in Lina's cunt. Lina shuddered and squeezed them with her slick walls, leaning back to allow the younger woman better access. Nadira pumped her pussy with experienced fingers, knowing just the right combination to get her off in the shortest amount of time. It was a clinical approach to the matter but Lina wasn't one to complain. An orgasm was an orgasm no matter what way it was achieved. Soon enough, she was moaning loudly herself, her body flushing a deep red as the waves of pleasure finally found her.

"I do so enjoy our nights together," said Nadira as she pulled her fingers out of the older woman and sucked them clean, one by one.

"That makes the two of us," said Lina with a content sigh. She looked back over to the other girls, taking note of who watched their performance and who kept their attention elsewhere. Unsurprisingly, she noticed the blonde woman now sleeping in her position, her back turned to them, completely oblivious to her malice intent. How easy it would be to slip a knife between those dainty shoulder blades.

"You already look to be scheming," said Nadira with a puff of her cheeks.

Lina shot her a wicked grin. "I think I just had an idea."

*****

"We lost more men in the night, Clan Chief. Another twenty warriors are dead or wounded."

Jack nodded glumly as he listened to the morning report from Samir. It had been two more days since the night attack by the Sciavo, and Jack's forces continued to move on a southerly course, avoiding being hemmed in by at least five separate clans as well as the elite slave hunters. On all but one side, they shadowed his movements and prevented any further penetration of the country. There was only one direction to go with their less numerous forces, and that was to the coast.

"What about the Muthada? Any reports from them?" asked Jack.

Abel stepped forward to speak next. "It was quiet in our sector last night, Clan Chief. A few of your own warriors fired out into the night but we recorded no attacks or casualties."

"At least there's one bright spot to that. We'll continue toward the coast again today. Keep the three main groupings and keep moving south," said Jack as he then turned to Greg and the two marine captains nearby. "How many marines are left able to fight?"

"At this morning's count, we're down to 109 effectives, almost half strength," said Greg. "I have eleven men still wounded. There's roughly thirty-five men on each flank and in the center of our forces to augment the Muthada and the Numratha."

Jack pursed his lips. They'd lost nearly a quarter of their strength since landing in Andalucia. Even though the marines killed more than ten men each for every one of them lost, he was tired of putting them in jeopardy. It was time to get off this island.

"We'll just need to keep moving and not let them drag us into any more engagements," said Jack. "I've already radioed out to the Destiny and the Tiger. They have our coordinates on the shore and will rendezvous with us there. I'd estimate we should reach the coast tomorrow."

"What about Kat?" asked Greg. "Are we going to leave her here for the time being?"

Jack let out a sigh. "Unfortunately, our current strength is not enough to get us back to the capital for her rescue. We have to find another way." No matter how much it pains me.

"Do you think we could expect reinforcements any time soon?" the major asked. "It makes me nervous to continue to fight at half strength."

"We are supposed to be receiving reinforcements, but that was before the Occitanian threat to Quiller's Cove," said Jack. "Now, I'm not sure. It'll depend on if they're needed there."

"We could make the argument they're just as needed here for our mission," said Abigail quietly.

"I agree with you, Abigail. But we'll have to wait for Bancroft to make that order. I just hope that's sooner rather than later."

"And us, Clan Chief?" asked Samir before gesturing to himself and Abel. "What of the Muthada and Numratha clans? What are we to do when you reach your ships?"

Jack didn't answer right away. It was one of those questions that he'd been hoping not to confront just yet. Even though both clans had been decimated by the war, the majority of the dead were still the men, their warriors. A good portion of their families were still intact, most of them stationed around the center and protected by the groups on the flank. There just wasn't enough room on the Destiny and the Tiger to house all those people.

Even if they could house them, what would they do with the slaves? A high percentage of the remaining people were the slaves belonging to the individual families. Would the Javans revolt at having that reminder of such behavior on their ships? Not only that reminder but conditions would be squalid, filthy and cramped until he could figure out what to do with them.

And then there was the other scenario, which meant leaving the two clans here on Andalucia. Jack figured that option to be a sure death sentence for all of them. Without the advantage of having the modern weapons of the marines with them, the two clans would surely be destroyed not long before the Destiny was out of sight. There was no way that Jack could willingly let them be slaughtered because they called him clan chief, even if some aspects of their society was reprehensible.

"Clan Chief?" asked Samir again, when Jack gave no answer.

"I'm still working on that, Samir. We don't have a lot of answers on that right now, but I hope to have one soon. We won't leave the two clans here just to die."

The answer seemed to placate the man, but only briefly. After a quick disposition on the routes to take on their course south, the impromptu war council broke up to go about their tasks for the day, leaving Jack alone with Abigail and Greg.

Abigail looked the most worried. "Jack, you know we don't have the room to carry that many people on the Destiny. I understand you don't want to leave them here but we certainly can't take them with us."

"I know, I know," said Jack. "But they're my responsibility now. They look to me for leadership. I can't just abandon them."

"It's not our fight though," said Greg. "We didn't force them to fight with us. From the sounds of things, this is the way Andalucia works. Some clans win, some clans lose."

"I won't do it though if I don't have to, Greg. The clans can be powerful allies. If not for both of them, we would've been overwhelmed long ago. They've proven themselves capable allies and fighters, and I don't think we should just leave them on the shores as we sail away."

"What are you suggesting then? We're running out of options, Jack."

Jack rubbed his chin. "There's got to be something we can do. Some way for us to push them back. The way they keep hemming us in makes it hard for us to focus on one clan to destroy like we did with the Muthada and Numratha."

"And we don't have that much firepower left. Or ammunition for that matter," said Greg. "What I wouldn't give to get some heavy artillery with us right now. A few howitzers would turn this around right now."

Howitzers. Could it be that easy?

Jack turned to look at both of them and grinned. "You've just given me an idea. But first, we need to get to the coast."

*****

The following morning was much the same as the previous ones in Andalucia. It was temperate even at the break of dawn, and the cloudless sky meant it would be another scorching day for all of them. Jack had scheduled an afternoon council of war, timed to coincide with their arrival on the coast. Already the rocky terrain of the interior had started to yield to the sandy dunes more commonly found on the coast, and Jack hoped that they would reach the water soon.

As he moved with the center of the group, he wasn't surprised to find Vera walking alongside him, her quiet presence always comforting as they moved along the dirt path. The Galician woman always had the bad habit of knowing exactly what was on Jack's mind, for better or for worse, and this morning was no exception.

"You don't have to feel so upset about leaving her behind," said Vera quietly. "If I could still make it out of Andalucia, surely Kat will. She's made of stronger stuff than I am."

"I don't doubt that she'll be all right, I just hate that she has to be here a moment longer than what's necessary."

"We'll find a way to get her. Don't worry, Jack."

"I'm just hoping that we can turn this around soon—"

At that moment, he heard a low whistle from the scouting party ahead of them. A group of marines and some Numratha warriors could be seen gesturing to each other on the top of a low-lying dune, only for one of the marines to come jogging to Jack's position.

"It's the coast, sir," said the winded marine as he pointed beyond the hill. "We've finally reached the coast! Great, blue seas just on the other side of that dune."

"Good, this changes everything for us," said Jack. "Will you send for Major Vaughn and have him meet with me immediately?"

The marine nodded and soon rushed off to get Greg.

"What do you have in mind, Jack?" asked Vera. "Now that we're here, what are we going to do?"

"We're going to lure the rest of the clans in. And then we're going to destroy them with heavier firepower," said Jack. "We just need the perfect site to do it with." He waited until he approached the top of the hill and looked out to the coast. Just off to their right was a small peninsula that jutted several hundred yards into the ocean. It was about half as wide as it was long and surrounded on three sides by water. Jack pointed to the feature. "That's the perfect spot. We'll make camp right there."

About two hours later, Jack pulled the entire force to the peninsula and instructed the remaining marines and Andalucians to dig in a defensive perimeter at the point where it joined the rest of the mainland. It was a good spot in that it allowed them to concentrate their force along a narrow front, and it presented a smaller overall target to their enemies. However, it also meant the enemy clans could pool their forces and attack at the one spot in the line, wearing them down until they broke.

As the members of his war council gathered to hear the new plan, Jack crouched down against the sand and began to draw a rough map of their new position.

"Clan Chief, this new terrain makes me a little nervous," said Samir as Abel started to nod in agreement. "We have nowhere else to go with the sea at our back. Once the other clans are in place, we'll be trapped."

"You're right about that, Samir," started Jack as he gestured down to his crude map. "We're now surrounded on three sides by water. Only that narrow strip of land at the front will separate us from them. If they overwhelm us there, we're done for."

"What's on your mind, Jack," asked Abigail with a curious glance. "You wouldn't have brought us to a bad position if you felt we had no chance. What are you up to?"

Jack started to grin. "I know we're few in numbers compared to our enemies, but the one thing that let us hold our own against superior numbers in the beginning was better firepower. When we were on the plateau, we kept many times our number at bay with the rapid power of the NT-12."

"That helped us when we had more in number," said Greg. "But the more men that we lose, the worse our position. How are we to get more firepower?"

"With the Destiny," said Jack as he drew two long lines on either side of the peninsula. "Once I knew we were nearing the coast, I reached out to Kyle on the Destiny and gave him our coordinates. Thankfully, they're not far away, and if I could get them to linger just off shore, we could use their heavy twelve inch guns to blast the enemy clans to pieces. They wouldn't stand a chance against such weaponry. Hell, even the Tiger's smaller guns would cause a lot of destruction."

Abigail looked down to study his map. "So we surround our forces on both sides by the two ships, wait for an attack, and then destroy them with their heavier guns?"

"Precisely," said Jack. "They'll never know what hit them." He then turned to look at Samir and Abel. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I haven't detected the use of any artillery in any attacks on us thus far. Do Andalucians use heavier weapons?"

Samir shook his head. "It's very rare, mostly because we don't have very many fortified places in Andalucia. Maybe Septhada, but that's it. When the situation calls for it, we can make stone-throwing weapons. Is that what your artillery is?"

Jack shook his head. "No, our artillery is similar to our rifles. Except much louder and with much bigger explosions."

Samir let slip a grin. "I think that'll be quite the wake-up call for the enemy clans."

"What about friendly fire though, Jack?" asked Greg. "Once they're attacking along our defensive position, that front is going to narrow significantly. What's to stop them from hitting our boys?"

"We can't risk them by having the ships fire too closely," said Jack. "We'll have to keep their fire beyond a certain range so that it's not a hazard to our men. We'll just have to let your boys mop up anybody who makes it past that line."

Greg started to grin before he nodded over to the two marines captains. "I think we can manage that."

"How soon will the Destiny be in position to help us?" asked Abigail.

"I expect them anytime now," said Jack. "Based upon Kyle's last position, they should be nearing ours within another hour or two."

"That's good," said Greg before he pointed out past the defensive perimeter. "Because I think they're gathering to attack us again."

Jack turned to look where he was pointing, his expression darkening as he saw the gathered Andalusian clans assembling at the top of the hill they'd come down two hours earlier. They were so numerous that it didn't even look like they were facing other men. Rather, it appeared to be a swarm of uncountable ants, too many in number to begin to face. Jack swallowed heavily, praying that the Destiny would be in position as soon as possible.

*****

Out to sea, Lt. Kyle Abrams sat in the command station of the Destiny, watching the coast of Andalucia pass by on the port side of the vessel. They were cruising along at a quick pace, about twenty-six knots, as they sought to be in place per Jack's earlier instructions.

For Kyle, it was a welcome change of events. For too long, he'd had to listen to the reports from the interior of the island, listening as the conflict with the Andalucians deepened and became more serious. Now that Jack was truly pushed back to the coast, it was time for them to jump into the fray. And he couldn't have been more excited to get into some action.

He just had to get there first.

"Cory, how far away are we from Jack? Are we getting close?"

Cory pursed his lips and looked back. "Probably over an hour or two. Maybe quicker if we increased our speed."

"Do it," said Kyle. "I don't want them to be waiting on us. If they're as outnumbered as they say, we might be able to make the difference."

Cory nodded and radioed the command down to the engine room to increase speed. To his side, Stephanie made a similar request out to the Tiger, cruising about a half mile in front of them. Speed was of the essence right now.

At that moment, his command radio crackled, and Kyle could soon hear Jack's voice. "Kyle, how much longer? I think this attack is about to begin any second."

"No more than two hours, Jack. We're making really good speed right now, but we're still a distance away."

"Whatever you can do to get here quickly. With this many enemies, we're surely going to need you here soon," said Jack.

"I'll do everything we can, Jack. I promise you that."

Kyle gulped heavily as the radio fell silent. He couldn't let his friends down.

"Cory, let's go at top speed. We can't waste any time right now," said Kyle as he gazed out to the horizon.

*****

Across from the Javan makeshift defensive position, the general of the Sciavo stood on a nearby hill, surveying the progress of the enemy in front of him. The foreigners were already hard at work, digging into their position yet the general couldn't help but wonder why they picked such an illogical location. Truly against the sea, it was beginning to look like a last stand, the final battle being near.

It had been a glorious engagement with the foreigners so far, a chase that had progressed over half of Andalucia. Ever since being given the order by High Clan King Vertulis, the general had pushed his elite warriors in pursuit, urging them to give everything they had to the goal of expelling the foreigners.

It hadn't been without casualties. An entire regiment of Sciavo had been sacrificed three nights earlier, only a few survivors coming back, those that brought back the enemy wounded. Those poor souls learned the measure of Andalucian resolve, and the general supposed they were still rotting on the wooden crosses they'd been left on.

"General, we have another clan that has just arrived. We're up to six clans now plus our own strength," said his deputy commander, stopping just short of the general's position. "We'll be ready for an attack in the morning."

"Fuck the attack in the morning," barked the general. "I want an attack readied right now."

"But sir, we only just got here," stammered the deputy.

The general yanked him by the collar and pointed down to the enemy position. "So did they. If we give them time to dig in, we'll make this much harder for ourselves. Let's attack now before their position is solidified."

"Sir, I'm not sure if we'll be ready—"

The general backhanded his deputy with alarming force, causing the other man to recoil in pain. An irritated red mark appeared on his cheek as poisonous eyes focused on him.

"I didn't ask for your opinion. Get word to every clan to ready their warriors. I want this attack to happen right now. Any man who doesn't attack will be on a cross by nightfall. That includes their leaders," said the general, towering over his deputy.

"I'll get word out immediately," said the deputy, slinking away quickly to direct the orders.

"Good," said the general, turning his attention back to the enemy camp in front of him. "This ends today. I want every single man, woman, and child slaughtered in that camp."

When the call to charge was issued nearly an hour later, and the mass of Andalucian warriors descended as one body down the hill, the general smiled. He would make the king proud today. He would end this little war once and for all.

*****

The battle unfolded more quickly than Jack could have imagined. No sooner were the marines and the two clans still digging into their defensive position at the foot of the peninsula than the assembled masses of Andalucia crested the rocky hill in front of them and descended down as one fighting force. It was the subject of nightmares—to see such a coordinated movement from all the clans acting together as they pushed forward to eject them from the island.

Jack swung his NT-12 off his shoulder to begin firing, praying that the Destiny would be in place sooner than expected. With such an onslaught on their position, it was quite possible they could all be wiped out before the mighty warship even arrived.

Around him, the scenes of battle played out like a story that had been repeated one too many times. The Javans crouched behind the half-completed ditches and kept up a rapid firing even as one man after the other was struck by the heavy rain of arrows. The Andalucians coordinated their attack to stop a mere thirty yards from the front line to carefully notch their bows and let loose a devastating volley of fire before closing in with their melee weapons.

It could almost have been described as a thing of beauty, even if it was incredibly dangerous. To watch those men continue to charge the front line with nothing but their short swords while their comrades fell all around them to gunfire was nothing short of beautiful tragedy. Jack had to respect their resolve and lack of regard for their own safety, a body of men so united in purpose that they became single-minded toward one goal.

"Take down one of those bastards and then focus on the next," yelled out Greg as he patrolled the front ranks of marines. "Don't fire too early and be sure of your shot!"

As the major patrolled his own men, Jack helped to direct the Muthada and Numratha warriors concentrated on either flank. They'd been told to disregard their swords unless the enemy clans closed the distance, relying almost exclusively on their bows and the protection of the ditch in front of them. Both Abel and Samir had them working on coordinated fire, rising as one to loose theirs bows before notching another arrow.

Unfortunately for them, having to stand up to make their shot meant they took the majority of the casualties by the attacking clans. Their exposed bodies soon became riddled and for a brief moment, Jack was concerned the Muthada might completely collapse.

"Greg, I need you to send another squad or two to the left flank! The Muthada are wavering!" yelled Jack as he pointed to the gap in their lines.

Greg nodded. "I'll send what I have but the center is hard-pressed!"

"Just do what you can. I'm afraid if the flank collapses, they'll roll up our line completely!"

Greg directed the movement as another five men dove forward into the gap, their rifles soon opening up with bursts of fire. It wasn't a second too soon. The men closest to the line had to resort to swinging their rifles as clubs to break off the rush of Andalucians who'd made it to the line.

It was a scene of chaos as Jack lost track of the integrity of the entire line, focusing only on the short portion directly in front of him. It was the only thing he could do to avoid being overrun. If the Andalucians kept pressing, it would be all over. The Destiny would find the remains of all of their corpses, most of them still warm as the enemy clans finished destroying their camp.

As quickly as the battle had begun, the enemy clans began to pull back. It wasn't a moment too soon as the breather enabled all the men a moment to catch up, many of them reestablishing their lines after having been pushed back. Others got the chance to reload their weapons, not having used them since the Andalucians got too close for firing. All of them took a sigh of relief at still being alive but also took on a fearful expression, wondering if they'd be able to last the next engagement.

"Another attack like that and we won't be able to hold them," said a marine not far from Jack.

"My bayonet is bent to shit. I can't even use it if they come again!"

"At least you two didn't take an arrow to the arm," said a wounded marine, still pulling the remains of a shaft from his bloody bicep.

"Hold steady, boys. We'll make them pay for every inch," said a clearly exhausted Greg. The major shared a despairing look with Jack, a face that said volumes about their current predicament. Jack understood instantly—they wouldn't be able to hold back another concentrated attack.

He looked back to the camp far from the front lines, deeper into the peninsula. All of the innocents were there like Vera, the wounded, and the families of the two clans. All of them would be butchered or sold into slavery if the line faltered.

"Jack," started Greg with a subtle head nod. "Here they come."

With a dreadful turn, Jack watched as the mighty masses of Andalucian warriors once more surged down the hill toward their lines. Taking a deep breath, Jack said a silent prayer to at least die fighting on his feet, doing everything he could while he still had blood in his veins.

Then a small miracle occurred. His command radio crackled.

"Jack, it's Kyle. We're in position and we're ready to open fire!"

For the first time in hours, Jack smiled. "Not a moment too soon. Open fire when ready, Kyle."

Jack looked out to the coast, his visibility still limited by the overcast just off shore. Yet, he could just make out the sparkling gray bow of the Destiny as it slid in closer to the shore, its large barrels pointed toward the hilltop position of the enemy clans.

"Better cover your ears, Jack. This is going to be a doozy!"

Jack grinned as the mighty guns of the Destiny roared to life. In the next moment, hell erupted on the hillside as the ordnance exploded against the sandy dunes, throwing up flames and smoke as it made contact. The effect was electrifying. Almost the entire center of the Andalucian line was impacted by the blast. Jack watched with a degree of horror as masses of robed warriors were sent flying by the eruption. It was only the lucky ones that managed to not be disintegrated on the spot by the force, many of them simply being thrown by the force of the blow. Others were unfortunate enough to catch sparks just from being close enough to blast, soon running wildly as their robes ensured a fiery death.

"The artillery is here, boys!" yelled Greg. "Let's mop up the survivors!"

The ranks of Javan NT-12s roared to life as it focused on anyone who'd escaped the initial salvo from the Destiny. The staggering remains of uncoordinated men appeared ahead of the blast site, most of them shaken, and all of them fearful at the changing tides of war. They ran toward the front line like they'd been instructed, making easy pickings for the Javan forces.

It was incredible how quickly the situation in a battle could change. As Jack watched yet another salvo from the Destiny decimate the Andalucian lines and send men running in every direction, he remembered how close they'd been to being overrun just minutes before. It was nothing short of a miracle, a providence that their mission wasn't yet finished and that they could not only survive this battle, but win.

It was over more quickly than he imagined it could be. With the sandy dunes in front of him looking like a battle-scarred inferno, the enemy attack completely collapsed. The screams of those caught in the blast site continued on for hours after hostilities had ended, a dreadful reminder of the perilous costs of war.

Not only had the Andalucian attack been defeated, it had been destroyed. The cohesion of the clans before the battle had been completely decimated as only staggering survivors limped back to the locations of their camps. Even though Jack had insisted the men remain on high alert as a precaution, he thought the chance of a further attack to be just about nil.

"I've got the final count," said Greg a few hours after the battle. "Ninety-two marines are left standing and ready to fight. Four men were only wounded, and they were taken back to the camp."

Jack nodded. "I'll help to bury the fallen. It's the least we can do for them now."

As a small group of men prepared a mass grave for those killed, he got the final count from Abel and Samir as well. Only seventy-four Muthada warriors were left ready to fight, out of an original strength of nearly five hundred when Jack landed on Andalucia. The Numratha were only slightly better, an effective strength of two hundred and twenty. Their fallen were buried next to the marines, all of them capable fighters in their own right.

After the battle, Jack led another small force out onto the battlefield, scouring the blast site to see the devastation firsthand. The sight of the charred bodies was especially nauseating, even for the battle-hardened Javans. Some of the craters left behind didn't even have corpses in them, so powerful were the shots from the heavy cruiser that the men who absorbed the blows simply disintegrated.

They were able to pull out a small cadre of wounded enemy forces, including several Sciavo who barely clung to life. Others had less life-threatening wounds and would surely pull through if given enough care. Some unfortunate souls could only be made comfortable, their time in this world severely limited. Jack directed that those that could be saved be given care when it could be spared, while those that weren't long for life be given a merciful death.

After pulling more wounded into a pile, Jack stopped to talk with Greg as he looked above the hill. "It looks like they're pulling back," he said while he pointed up to the bluffs. "I can't see their camps anymore."

"Can't say I'd blame them. I'm sure a good portion of their warriors died today," said Greg. "The situation may have changed. Perhaps now we aren't at such a disadvantage."

"Maybe we can even end this war," said Jack. "And then they'll stop hunting us."

Before Greg could speak, they heard a slight cackling coming from the wounded not far from their feet. Jack looked down to find the source, his expression darkening as a bloody Sciavo laid on the ground, barely clinging to life but still laughing at their words.

"You m-must be the one that started all t-this," said the Sciavo with labored breath. His fingers pointed at Jack shakily before collapsing to the ground. "W-who caused all this death."

Jack walked the short distance to the man, crouching on his feet in front of him. The Sciavo would be dead within the hour, his blood staining the sand beneath his body. "That's right. I'm the one your entire country has united in trying to defeat. Who you attacked for no reason."

The Sciavo gave a bloody grin. "You're the Tur'hava. This isn't over, you know? Andalucians never surrender. If y-you think this victory has won you the war, you'll b-be mistaken. Vertulis will never give in to you. You'll have to kill all of us to take his crown. The only way this ends is your surrender or your death."

Jack leaned over to grab the man, his teeth clenched in anger but life fled the robed warrior in the same moment, his lifeless head rolling back against the sand. He pushed off the ground and studied the dead man, wondering if there was any truth to his words. Would this war go on endlessly? Could he force Vertulis to surrender if he bled enough men from him?

More importantly, what would he do if they never surrendered?

*****

Jack wasn't back behind his own lines for very long when one of the sentries from the Numratha came running up to his position. The sun was just about to dip below the horizon, and shadows were quickly falling across most of the battlefield.

"Clan Chief, there's a mass of people approaching our northeast flank," said the man, his brow streaked with sweat from his running.

"Do we have any inkling who they could be? Are they Andalucian?" asked Jack as he craned his neck in the direction the sentry indicated.

"They're Andalucian, Clan Chief. Not just warriors, but women and children as well," said the sentry. "It appears to be an entire clan."

An entire clan? Could it be another? Jack nodded quickly. "Let's go meet them. I have a feeling I know what they want. Were there any signs of hostility?"

"None, Clan Chief. They appear peaceful from what we can see."

Jack hurried across the front lines, his tracks leaving small, indistinguishable holes in the sand as they trekked across the loose dunes. As he got closer, he could see exactly what the sentry had meant. An entire mass of humanity was making its way toward the front line, the young and old, male and female, all moving closer. The men on the front lines watched them with wary appraisal, no doubt wondering if this was some kind of trick—one final attack before the sun disappeared.

Yet, Jack had seen this kind of rootless wandering before. His suspicion nagged at him. With all the casualties from today's attack, could it be possible they were able to receive reinforcements?

The mass of humanity came to a stop about a hundred yards from the trench. In the front, about three men could be seen conversing to themselves, their next action agreed upon by the same nod of the head from all three. They approached Jack's lines with firm but cautious purpose, their hands held up in peace. Noticeably absent were their bows, each having been left behind with the main group.

Jack quickly crossed over the trench in front of him, trying to meet them halfway onto the battlefield.

"If they pull anything funny, feel free to start shooting," he instructed the marines just behind him. "Otherwise, don't do anything further until you get word from me."

Jack crossed the short distance and met the three men in the middle of the dunes, carefully appraising all of them once he was close enough to make out their features. The one on the left was clearly the oldest as his beard was the grayest of the bunch and his wrinkles cut deep into his face. He was more tattered than the others as well, his robe being cut in several places and his headgear showing more of his face than his comrades.

The other two men to his right were closer to Jack's age. The one in the middle wore a dark-black goatee and black headgear to cover his face. He seemed to be judging Jack upon his approach, unsure what to make of the foreigner in front of him. The man on the far right had the most protective clothing on, making his face harder to see. Yet, Jack could see untrusting, brown eyes, blazing on him in anger. It was enough to make him feel uncomfortable.

Once they were in earshot, Jack was the first to break the silence. "Who are you? Why are you approaching my lines?"

The older man looked at the younger two and then back to Jack. "We are warriors of the Burlada clan, the greatest clan in all of Andalucia. My brother was the clan chief of the Burlada and these two men were his sons."

"He was the clan chief? Is he no more?" asked Jack.

The older man nodded. "He has been killed today in this battle."

Jack nodded quietly. That explained the hostility from the man on his right. Losing his father in one day was enough to make him hate Jack right from the beginning.

"We seek our new clan chief," said the older man. "We have been elected as speakers of our clan until we can seek him out that killed my brother and submit to him."

"That is unfortunate," said Jack. "You have my sorrow for your loss."

The younger man with the goatee was the next to speak, his words quite a shock to all of them. "You're the Tur'hava, aren't you? You're the foreigner that has caused all this trouble."

Jack wasn't sure what to say to that charge. Sure, many of them thought he was this Tur'hava character, but he wasn't yet convinced. For him, this was just another conflict that needed to be won.

"I have been called by that name, yes. Tur'hava. I'm Jack Easterbrook," he said while looking at each of them. "This is my force behind me."

The older man nodded and was the first to kneel, laying prostrate in the sand, his head touching the sand. When he looked up, he locked eyes with Jack. "I'm called Masud. I'm yours to command, Clan Chief."

Jack's eyes swept to the other two men, both of them kneeling with much more reservation. The one in the middle was the next to speak up. "I'm called Wabu of the Burlada. I'm talented with a bow, and I'm a great warrior to have in battle."

Jack nodded his head. "We have a need for good warriors. Welcome, Wabu."

The man on the right was the last to rise, only with some difficulty. Jack could tell his teeth were clenched in anger, an understandable emotion at what he'd lost that day. Still, it didn't prevent him from honoring Andalucian custom.

"I'm Hafiz," he said shortly. "You killed my father."

"There are many that died in battle," said Jack simply. "You should be grateful that you had such a father who would die so gloriously in battle."

Hafiz flinched, his face filling with more anger. "You are my clan chief now, and I will abide by our laws. But I would suggest you keep your distance from me, Clan Chief."

With that, the man turned heel and walked back to his camp, his shoulders stiff with emotion as he left the other three men.

"Forgive him, Clan Chief," said Masud, as he bowed in front of Jack. "My nephew is every bit his father's son. Hotheaded and ill-tempered, yes, but a good warrior to have at your side regardless."

"There's nothing to forgive, Masud," replied Jack. "I can understand his loss. Tell me more about the Burlada. What is your current strength?"

Wabu answered the question. "Before the battle, there were just over eight thousand of us—men, women, and children. We were the largest clan in all of Andalucia."

"And now? How many of you are left?"

Wabu pursed his lips. "It seems we are down to around fifteen hundred warriors, more or less. Some will recover from their wounds still and add to that number. The rest of our numbers are women and children."

"We could surely use your fighting strength in the coming days," said Jack. "My men in the Muthada and the Numratha have taken great casualties. As well as my own men from back in Java. Your strength will greatly help us."

"What we have in number is an advantage, Clan Chief," said Masud. "However, we are just one clan. If you've taken a great number of casualties, you'll still be even-numbered with the rest of the clans."

Jack nodded while he thought of some of the things he'd heard from the dead Sciavo right after the battle. Something he wanted to confirm.

"Masud, how can I end this war? If you were me, what's the best way to end the fighting?"

Masud blinked at him, his gray beard rippling softly in the wind. "What do you mean, Clan Chief? End the fighting?"

"Yes, how can I stop this? I didn't come here to start a war with all of Andalucia," said Jack. "How can I stop the fighting?"

Masud started to smile, obviously not knowing if Jack was joking or not. "These kind of wars only end once the clan chief who started them is dead or enslaved. There will be no peace while you're in charge, Clan Chief. As long as you lead, you will be a threat."

Jack took a deep breath and then looked out to the ocean. "So as long as I live, there will be war?"

Masud nodded. "Or if you willingly surrender into slavery, although I doubt that's much of an option either. They'll let you become a slave if you surrender, but I've never known any man to take this route."

"And the only other way for me to stop it would be to kill every other clan chief in Andalucia?"

The older man nodded again. "A task quite impossible. Although, not if you are the Tur'hava. Then you'd just need to remove the high clan king."

Jack turned to look at him. The high clan king?

"So if I manage to kill Vertulis, this war ends?"

"If you can kill him," said Masud with caution. "Since he's the king of all of Andalucia, if you replace him, you would command all the clans. Such is the legend of the Tur'hava, the clan-uniter."

So all he needed to do was kill Vertulis and he could put an end to this war? But what was the best way to kill a heavily-guarded warrior-king of Andalucia? How could he even accomplish such an impossible task, knowing that such a warrior had many thousands between him and Jack? Even if he could reach him, would Vertulis engage him in battle to let him do so?

"Tell me, Masud," started Jack. "Would Vertulis fight me in battle? Would he fight alongside his warriors?"

"It's very possible that he would. He was a great warrior before becoming king after all. It's not a prospect that anyone should take lightly after all."

"Why's that?"

Masud shrugged. "Vertulis is always surrounded by his elite Sciavo. They are not only the warrior elite of Andalucia, but they are also his personal bodyguards. It won't be easy to get past them, and even if you did, you'd still have to face Vertulis. Even for a man advanced in age, he can still fight from what I've heard. The strength of the Andalucian king is one of those things highly considered when selecting the next man since his strength is meant to deter the other clan chiefs from rising to take his place."

"So a one-on-one battle is out," said Jack quietly. But what about subterfuge?

"Masud, how easy would it be to slip into the camp of the king undetected?"

"Undetected, Clan Chief? Nearly impossible. Why do you ask?"

Jack smiled grimly. "Because what I have in mind will be public, messy, and the only shot I have at taking out Vertulis once and for all."