Battalion Banished

by Nancy Osa

  “Wish we could say the same for Bluedog,” Stormie muttered.

  “What about our contract with him?” Judge Tome asked.

  “I’ve officially canceled it,” Frida said, and told her cavalry mates about the loot she had acquired from the jungle temple.

  This news cheered Turner, who asked for an exact count of the ingots, ores, and gems she had brought back. “Well, it’s a start,” he said, folding his arms and wrapping his hands around the two biome outlines inked onto his biceps. “But I know how to get more riches than we can ever spend—and take out Bluedog once and for all.”

  Jools leaned forward. “Hey! I’m the idea man.”

  Turner gave an evil grin. “Then you can craft the plan, Private. All that time ridin’ with Mad Jack, I was thinking the real score was right under our noses.”

  *

  Bluedog’s arrangement with the griefer army had already made him a wealthy man. He had purposely flashed his loot to the members of A Squadron to lure them into remaining on the job, knowing that sooner or later he would be able to hand them over to Lady Craven for an even larger sum. He had primed Mad Jack to find out what he could about them. And he had disclosed the site of his Nether portal as further bait, thinking to trap them if they came sniffing around there in between minecart runs.

  “What he didn’t figure,” Turner said, “was our ability to move through the Nether safely.” He stared at each of the troopers at the table. “I say we take that loot . . . by going underground.”

  Jools grinned. “He won’t expect us to hit him from the other side of the portal. While he waits up there with a cricket bat, we’ll be down below, taking him for all he’s worth.”

  The significance dawned on Rob. “With that kind of capital, we can afford to outfit all of us in diamond armor.”

  “And the horses, too,” Kim reminded him.

  “It’d put us back on the war map,” Stormie said with satisfaction.

  Judge Tome cleared his throat. “I wonder, Captain. Would your battalion have use for a legal scholar who can’t hit the broad side of a barn?”

  Frida cut in. “Judge, I think I can help you change that equation.”

  But Rob looked concerned. “Even so . . . winning the peace is an awfully risky business, sir.”

  A fire had ignited in the judge’s eyes. “Si vis pacem, para bellum, my friends. If you want peace, prepare for war.”

  CHAPTER 15

  CAPTAIN ROB HAD LEARNED ENOUGH DURING HIS first trip to the Nether to know that planning was the key to surviving and reaching their goal. The following day he called an administrative meeting. “Jools! See what you can learn from Rafe’s computer files that might help us. Share any relevant crime data with the judge. Frida, debrief the quartermaster on any remaining resources or intel.”

  Kim was charged with preparing their mounts for netherrack terrain, while Stormie was focused on mapping the placement of a Nether portal and devising a way to secure as much loot as possible.

  “What about me, Captain?” Turner sat back, waiting for his turn at being indispensable. “What’ll it be? Trashing ghasts? Squirting blazes? Wiping out wither skeletons?”

  “I’m placing you on portal guard duty, Sergeant. With Colonel M’s help subduing underworld mobs, we can spare you to provide muscle where we most need it.” Rob paused. “I have a feeling that once Bluedog finds out about our little heist, he might throw a tantrum.”

  Turner socked his palm with his fist a couple of times. “I’ve been known to kick and scream myself—right after I ram an arrow down a griefer’s throat.”

  “Well, put together a trap of some sort so you won’t have to work so hard. We’ll also need the highest grade armor you can craft. Some for everyone. Carry on, Sergeant.”

  Frida sat down with Jools to help him decipher Rafe’s computer files. Sure enough, they revealed a trail of evidence that could put him in Overworld prison for a good, long time: lists of farmers and villagers on the syndicate’s extortion payroll . . . biome cities slated for attack . . . names and ranks of Lady Craven’s underlings and their territories. The two battalion mates even found Rafe’s preliminary sketches for the cathedral he planned to force Crash and De Vries to build for him. It had an extensive dungeon system, the better to detain more innocent souls, no doubt. They called Judge Tome over to begin building a case.

  Jools opened up his battalion inventory spreadsheet, and he and Frida worked on accounting for her additions to the war chest. When they reached the items she had mined from the jungle temple, Stormie and Turner perked up their ears and wandered over.

  “Dispenser, sundry circuit wires, pistons, levers, and redstone blocks,” Jools read as he cataloged them.

  “Say, Quartermaster,” Stormie broke in. “I could use some of that redstone to power a hopper pipe. That’d move as much treasure as we could carry.”

  “And I could use that there automatic dispenser to trap Bluedog at his portal when he comes lookin’ for his loot.”

  “Good idea, Meat,” Frida said. “I was thinking that the circuitry operating the jungle temple puzzle might work for something like that.” She described the system that activated the lock on the hidden chest or an arrow launcher, depending on which code was applied.

  The specialty items were put to use right away. After Turner and Frida rigged the dispenser and disguised it to resemble Bluedog’s chest, Turner went to work on sets of golden armor for each trooper.

  “Could use some extra fire protection in the Nether,” Frida mentioned, watching her friend turn gold ingots into helmets and chestplates.

  “Allow me,” Jools offered. “I’ll enchant the bloody heck out of that armor.” He retrieved the judge’s law book from their inventory and paired it with some obsidian they had mined at the lava lake and some of the diamonds Bluedog had paid them. Then he crafted an enchantment table.

  It was all coming together. Frida realized that if this plan worked, they would face an immediate need to go into battle. Lady Craven and the Overworld criminal element would be screaming for their heads on platters.

  “Rob. We’re going to want the rest of our supplies from the vault. And a few things from the village.”

  “That was my next directive. Kim’s got the horses shod and fed. I’ll make a run with her to our savanna camp to grab the extra inventory. You and Stormie make a very covert trip to Spike City. Wear disguises, if you can. And get back here as soon as possible.”

  “Right, boss.”

  “Oh, and Frida?”

  She paused on her way out the door.

  “Take care.”

  *

  The survivalist and the adventurer were, once again, on friendly terms. Frida had privately vowed to work with the battalion members and put her personal gripes on hold. War was a more pressing concern. Love might require a very long time to sort out . . . and the fate of the Overworld couldn’t wait.

  Frida used Turner’s jack-o’-lantern as a mask, and Stormie wore the old spider’s head that the charged creeper had blown off back in the roofed forest. With these disguises and the Spike City villagers’ tendency to keep to themselves, the women enjoyed an uneventful trading spree.

  They returned with a clock to automate Stormie’s hoppers above ground, and a present for Judge Tome. Frida could hardly wait to give it to him.

  When Rob called for target practice, they all tried on their gold armor and stacked arrows next to their weapons. “Frida, Turner: You two sit this one out. Let’s start with those who can use more practice.”

  Frida waved Judge Tome aside and handed him the gift she’d purchased from the librarian. He put on the pair of eyeglasses and tilted his head a few times. Then he took Frida’s shoulders in his hands and kissed her soundly on the lips.

  When his turn came to skewer the hanging ring with his blade, he ran Norma Jean at it and succeeded three times in a row. The body dummies were summarily executed with his iron sword. And the dirt blocks that Rob tossed in the air as moving ta
rgets never had a chance to escape the judge’s deftly fired arrows.

  Turner watched from the sidelines, giving Judge Tome a very wide berth to escape any errant shots. He could not believe his eyes.

  As Jools, Stormie, and Kim cheered, Turner strolled over to Frida, who was taking in the scene with great satisfaction. “What in the wide world of sparring got into him?” Turner wondered.

  Judge Tome turned a bespectacled face toward the mercenary and cried, “How’s that for some shooting, Meat!”

  *

  The multitasking accomplished, Battalion Zero made ready for a trip to the Nether. Stormie and Turner built, fortified, and camouflaged a portal a short distance from Bluedog’s, on the border between the extreme hills and the ice plains. Then the troopers armored themselves and prepared to lead their horses into the lower dimension.

  “We’ve got to make immediate contact with Colonel M,” said Rob. “Vanguard. Can you safely do so on your own?”

  Between the enchanted golden armor, Ocelot’s swiftness, and Frida’s renewed confidence in her own abilities, she knew she could do it. She was glad the captain recognized that a single player could slip through cracks where a group could not. She accepted the mission.

  Stormie reminded her of the coordinates to Colonel M’s Nether fortress, and Frida stepped into the portal, followed by her horse. Purple particles danced around them, and sound seemed to be both sucked in and blown out of some crazy, unseen pipe organ. Then they were through, and every sensation changed.

  Light became less effective, sound more indefinite. Everything a player could touch was either sharper or hotter. And the smell and taste of acrid smoke filled Frida’s nose and mouth.

  The vanguard didn’t wait to adjust to the gloom or the claustrophobic feeling of being sandwiched between layers of bedrock. Ocelot’s larger eyeballs used the low glowstone light more efficiently, so Frida mounted, and the pair set off down a netherrack hill leading from the portal to an expanse of saw-toothed bedrock. The mare’s sense of direction was also keener than a human’s, and Frida quickly found it useful to give Ocelot control.

  Up, down, and over the uneven chunks of netherrack they ran, skirting streams of lava that generated before them. They slowed only when they neared a patch of soul sand, and hesitated only as they stood at the edge of a wide lava river, where Ocelot needed an extra nudge before she’d jump.

  As they approached the familiar fortress, Frida noticed a ghast lounging above it. The huge, translucent blob with useless legs stared at the approaching horse and rider through red eyes and lazily spit a fireball at them. Frida had plenty of time to draw her sword and volley it back. The ensuing blast eliminated the ghast, and the echoing report acted as a knock on Colonel M’s door.

  The heavy gate swung open to reveal a colossal head in the entryway. The colonel had sustained so much damage at the end of the First War that he had lost most of his body and was only able to respawn his head. It was nearly twice the size of a full-grown woman and lent him quite the commanding presence.

  “Private!” he said with obvious pleasure. “What brings you here?”

  “It’s corporal now, Colonel. The battalion needs a quick escort.”

  She gave him the abbreviated version of their plan. He deemed it worthy and immediately accompanied her back to the portal, sailing along behind her and Ocelot. Where Colonel M went, any mobs that dared to spawn either submitted to his authority or were instantly neutralized.

  The colonel’s reunion with Battalion Zero was also cut short. The more quickly they accomplished their task, the sooner they would be able to renew their war efforts. Still, the old ghost was clearly moved at seeing his protégé, Rob, his horse, Nightwind, and the other troopers again.

  “You’re taking good care of my trusty steed, eh, Kim?”

  “He’s taking good care of me,” she replied.

  “And, who is this?” He nodded at Judge Tome. “I haven’t yet had the pleasure.”

  Rob made the introductions.

  “My congratulations, Corporal,” the colonel said. “Any man who can win the heart and mind of a mule is a prince among men.”

  They set off through the netherrack, riding in single file, with little Rat tagging along and the colonel sailing behind them. The band relied on Stormie to locate the below-ground coordinates of Bluedog’s Overworld Nether portal. After a few dead ends and some doubling back, they found the spot.

  Stormie halted the others and sat on Armor’s back, dumbfounded. Frida, Turner, Jools, Kim, Judge Tome, and Rob reined in their mounts at the foot of an immense heap of treasure.

  A humongous chest beneath the portal had long since overflowed with gemstones, metal ores, redstone components, weaponry, pumpkins, and other stolen harvests. Clusters of chickens and cows wandered nearby.

  Colonel M, not a man who showed surprise often, floated up behind the riders and boomed, “Well, I’ll be a creeper’s uncle!”

  Stormie found her voice. “What a mess!”

  It didn’t appear that the extortionist ever followed his loot through the portal, or he might have tidied up the cache.

  “Those poor animals,” Kim murmured as a chicken tottered too close to a rogue blaze and burned up.

  Turner shook his head. “I don’t condone stealing more loot than a man can handle.”

  “Let’s take some of this off Bluedog’s hands, shall we?” suggested Jools. He pulled his computer from Beckett’s saddlebag. “And Sergeant . . . I’m taking inventory, starting now.”

  *

  The complex scheme would consume most of the battalion’s attention, so Colonel M fell back with Judge Tome to hold off any hostile mobs and discuss the legal state of the Overworld. Kim stood by with the horses and mule on a picket line, making sure that none of them were frightened by whatever might crop up.

  Frida lent a hand in placing and wiring the contraptions that would transfer the payload from its dumping ground to the battalion’s war chests. Stormie was glad to have crafted more hoppers than she thought she’d need. It would take all five of them to form a pipeline between Bluedog’s portal and the one that she and Turner had placed and hidden.

  The clock would only function as a conveyor belt on the surface, so once they got the hoppers all put together and powered up, they formed a sort of bucket brigade and began feeding items into the first unit. Jools logged each piece of loot into his spreadsheet as it went by.

  After a while, Turner stepped back for a break, his gaze fixed on the flow of treasure. “It’s so—bright,” he said as diamonds and gold pieces caught the muted light from the glowstone overhead.

  Jools was dazzled, as well. “I must say, Turner, at a time like this, I can almost understand your fascination with shiny objects.”

  Turner cut him a sideways glance. “What’re we—friends, then?”

  Jools pressed his lips together. “Allies, I should think, is a better description. A good deal more effective than friends.”

  Once again, Battalion Zero seemed able to move mountains—or at least mountains of loot—when its members acted as one. The steady stream of inventory passed from hopper to hopper until, finally, it was all contained.

  The delicate matter of transferring it to their chests in the Overworld—without Bluedog’s interference—still remained.

  Colonel M knew well the price of war. He was thrilled to have aided the battalion in getting closer to its original goal of Overworld freedom. “Best of luck, Captain,” he said to Rob. He turned his massive cheek to Judge Tome. “Bully for you, lending your sword arm to the unit, not to mention your knowledge of the law. As someone once said, a man can’t retire his experience. He must use it.” He paused. “Use some of it for me, Judge.”

  Frida caught the note of envy in the colonel’s voice as the troopers remounted and rode back up the uneven hill to the Nether portal. At the base of it, she got Rob’s attention. “Let me go through ahead. Bluedog or Mad Jack might be nearby. I’ll check it out and give you the all-
clear.”

  He agreed, and she got down and led Ocelot back through the gateway between the two world dimensions. Seeing neither crooks nor hostile mobs, she signaled for the cavalry members but couldn’t shake off the tension that had only grown stronger the closer they came to completing the job. They would have to stand patiently by for quite some time while the full hoppers delivered their contents above ground.

  While Stormie rigged the topmost device with a hopper clock to smooth the transfer, Frida and Turner quickly set up the dispenser trap at Bluedog’s now useless portal. When he got there, he would find a dummy box locked with the trick levers and think he’d forgotten to empty a chest into the Nether. This puzzle, however, would have no solution other than pain.

  Triggered by a lever and spider-string trip wire, the dispenser would fire several stacks of arrows. If those failed to kill Bluedog, he might still die from embarrassment. Frida had filled the remaining slots with eggs, which, by now, were quite rotten. She would be there to observe the outcome. A trooper had to keep watch until Bluedog showed up, to make sure some innocent didn’t walk into the trap. After playing Bluedog’s victim once, Frida wanted the chance to turn the tables.

  Rob had agreed to this, but insisted on Turner staying with her while the rest of the crew went back to camp. Kim reharnessed Rat to the six carts, and she, Stormie, Jools, Turner, and Judge Tome set out to escort the valuables to the plateau.

  Frida and Turner shrouded their reflective armor with leaves and sat back-to-back, covering every direction with their watchful eyes. Duff and Ocelot were pacified with a pile of grass. But soon after the others had ridden out of sight, an incoming travel party disrupted their privacy. Moving across the mountain terrace were a distinctive blue and white form, and another with three legs . . . and trotting beside them were two silver-brown wolves with black diamonds on their foreheads.

  CHAPTER 16

  FRIDA AND TURNER WERE FILLED WITH BOTH relief and alarm upon seeing the canine forms of their shape shifter friends approaching. The dispenser trap would not distinguish between friends and foes. Frida had to make a snap decision.