A group of ten men were sent on their way to carry out a reconnaissance. On their departure Tiny Ballow entered the ship with Mintou Ati close behind and after quick discussion commenced to unload the weapons that were stored on board. It was unfortunate to realise that four of the other ships were in the hands of the enemy and that only 200 weapons existed within the cargo hold of this particular ship; 20 of which were machine lasers, the remainder only rifles.
The training of the macebearers was undertaken immediately, far below the basin in a large cavern. The cavern itself was lit by a worthless stone crystal that generated its own heat, whereby creating a natural illumination. The light even had the power to provide nearby plant life with the sustenance for growth.
The crystals stuck out from the walls of solid rock and were known as Boumutah. Tiny was quite intrigued with the gems, and as geology was a hobby with him, decided to pick one from the wall. He took this and placed it into his pocket.
Although there wasn’t enough weapons to arm all of Equatians 2,000 strong army of macebearers, all were still required to rotate through the training of the weapons use, this took very little time. Inside of two days, Tiny and Mintou had hand-picked the men they felt were more competent with the weapons and handed them out freely, 200 warriors armed with machine laser and rifles; 1,800 armed only with a simple mace.
The reconnaissance team, on their return, disclosed the possible number of Vertons that existed on the planet’s surface around the palace grounds and other strong holds between themselves and the palace gates.
The Verton force had split into platoons of varying size.
Tiny and Mintou accessed the information and soon decided on a restructure of authority within the ranks of the 2,000 warriors. This was soon handed down and amazingly enough no man seemed displeased with the change as nothing was said. They were fighting for the Queen and the planet, not for the attainments of one’s own pride or greed. A strange way of thinking for an old adversary of mercenary type activities.
Orders were given and the battle plans reiterated. “Mintou Ati will take his platoon to the first of the camps between us and the palace, and my platoon will take the second. As suggested by the reconnaissance, each camp holds a thousand men of Legion Millennium. This means that the mind scan will be available to their forces. There exist six such camps around the approaches to the palace, but only two of these fall within our path.
“The remainder of our platoons will split into two and these into two again, this way four platoons of macebearers can hold each of the flanks on these two camps. Don’t forget, it is imperative that these platoons hold a distance of no less than four hundred metres from the camps until Mintou’s and my platoon have opened fire and forced a large kill upon the Vertons.
“Once the first shots have been fired, the macebearers can approach from the flanks under covering fire. By the time you make contact most of the camp will be in an array of confusion. We shall hold our positions so that the flanking platoons can carry out hand-to-hand with the mace. Ensure you pick up and use the weapons of the dead. The weapons they use are slightly different to ours but as I proved during training, still operate in the same basic manner.
“Gunners are to ensure they target the communication posts of the camps so that reinforcements cannot be called for and no one warned of our approach. We’ll be out of earshot of the palace, that’s guaranteed. The remaining two platoons of macebearers, not directly involved in the destruction of these two camps, will deploy along the known track between the second camp and the palace gates. If Verton troops are warned of our assault they’ll travel the short distance to the camps under attack by foot due to the canopy of the jungle in these areas. Remain in ambush until we have married up with you. All spare weapons will be brought along so that you can be armed as soon as possible.
“We commence the assaults at zero three hundred hours, which is thirty minutes ahead of the Mildratawa assault on the sphere, and hopefully, if all goes well, the precise time that the Alza Ningh troops conduct their task in this quadrant – that’s if they’re a fighting force as yet.
“That covers all aspects of the assaults on the camp areas. No platoon is to attack the palace until we marry up with each other. If the Alza Ningh force does not arrive as anticipated then the assault upon the palace may be postponed. We can only take the remainder of the day as it falls into place. It’s certainly a misfortune that we can’t plan any further.”
The battle plans had been drawn and the orders group had come to a close. Battle procedure was now undertaken which included the resting of troops. All now was entrusted to the accomplishments of the Mildratawa force.
PLANET EQUATIA.
THE PALACE.
Muriphure made himself at home in the palace on Equatia and the reports on all of his battle plans to date had satisfied him to no end, as did the large meal that sat unfinished on the marble plates to his front.
He poured another glass of wine and contentedly picked at his teeth to remove the strings of yoebla steak, and with his fingers still in his mouth let out a little chuckle as his thoughts fell on that of the past few days: ‘Huh, the King.’
The King was safely chained in a cell, far below ground in the dungeon. The darkness threw his nerves on end as he let out with a quiet sob – which before now would have been a cowardly show of emotion and weakness – but it was his wife for whom he was worried, his life came second to hers. He could hear the large rats of his planet scurrying around in the darkness and making clean the plate of food that the guards had placed on the cell floor. They knew full well that he wasn’t able to reach the morsel due to the way they’d restrained him in a standing position in the far corner. Both of his ankles and wrists were tightly clamped against the cold walls of the cell, so tight that blood seeped around the cuffs of the metal bracelets.
The glass of wine toppled over and a rat jumped at the high-pitched clatter, the rodent too let out with a squeal of surprise and fright.
A little light was cast down from an air duct, just above the King’s right shoulder, above the door possibly; he knew little of his dungeon. It never got used. A rat passed through the small speck of light that was contrast out upon the cold stony floor, a stain of red, from the wine, could be seen on its fur.
The stench of trapped and decaying moisture brought another dry reach from the King and a thought of the balai timit again plagued his mind. He pictured the creature as being similar to that of a bat, his mind wasn’t sure. Although he’d never seen a bat before Mimbar had taken time out to explain what the earth night flier looked like. He also remembered Mimbar putting specific mention to the balai timits’ long and razor sharp teeth, its dark bulging eyes, and pointed out that unfamiliar to the bat, the balai timit could actually see. The thought lasted only long enough to prevent him from dry reaching, before he was bit on the ankle by one of the scrounging rats. It drew a little blood, that much could be felt, a warm trickle down a cold leg. Even his thick clothing couldn’t put fight to the stabbing cold. His only hope now was that the Queen would be given a pardon to the nastily habits of the bloodthirsty creature from Verton known as the balai timit.
Although the Queen had been promised the opportunity to play with the balai timit, among other things, the King could only hope. He knew she was in a better cell than the one he was in. She was on the floor above. He pondered her present condition.
She knew what the King didn’t, of her disposition and the coming torment of being transported to the planet Verton, to be made a slave and toy for the Empress Sualimani. She couldn’t bring herself to a decision at this stage as to what would be best. A reprieve from the balai timit was a pure sanction but blessing in disguise, for the prospect of life in slavery was a very depressing thought. She paced the floor in contemplation of suicide, but then again, lived on the hope of escape and revenge; even rescue wasn’t out of the question.
She rubbed her hands for warmth. Her cell didn’t lie as far down as the Kin
g’s, so light was a little better and food appetising, although she touched very little. Coming to a stop she sat on the bench opposite the cell door, and as per the King, gently sobbed. This placed her into a peaceful sleep where the dreams were of a beautifully governed planet Equatia, full of riches, large in resources, and protected by the best soldiers the galaxy had ever seen. And as though she was being told this from an unknown source, she was suddenly woken, a light tap to the shoulder being felt. The last scene that passed her mind as her eyes opened was an image of a man, a man of great power, and dressed in the uniform of the Mildratawa.
Muriphure pulled the last of the cooked flesh from his teeth and sucked the air in deep between these. He reached for the wine and sat back relaxed when a knock came upon the dining room door, interrupting his thoughts of a military nature. “Enter!”
A lone guard entered the room with a report between his fingers. He remained silent and came to a stop in front of the seated Verton, the most terrifying of warlords. Handing the report over, he took a step back and placed his hands to rest behind his back.
Muriphure read. Although shocked by the loss of men and materials from the assault upon Irshstup, his facial expression remained unchanged. The only real concern was for the loss of the battle cruiser. He was expecting greater losses from Warlord Newtwon, but not in the form of such a large ship as a cruiser. “This isn’t a very good report that you bring me, but nevertheless, it’s pleasing and within the grasp of my predictions.”
The guard thought that the meal must have been good indeed, for he hadn’t yet been slapped for bringing such appalling losses to Muriphure’s attention.
Muriphure spoke: “Inform Warlord Newtwon that I will send him a further forty thousand troops and four battle cruisers. Once you have done that you can send me Warlord Benai. I have orders for him on the move that he is to make immediately. Go now.”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier turned on his heel and left Muriphure with his thoughts.
PLANET ALZA NINGH.
ALMAGORT.
This was a great day in the history of Alza Ningh.
Bob Neil stood to attention with Ozrammoz on his right and Alrim to his left. To their front stood 40,000 men, armed to the teeth in their battle dress, all sized off in their platoons with officers at their posts (to the front of each formation).
The colours to their battalion formations were marched to their fronts and central to the parading units of eight-foot giants. The band played the Alza Ningh anthem and the honour guards to each of the colours marched in step with the pikestaffs held steady and vertical to the ground where the parade stood. The first of the converted cargo ships flew overhead, their armaments very impressive to look upon, even from a distance. Commanders to the divisions gave salute to the dais as the ships thundered past, thickening the air with pride and honour.
Ozrammoz took the salute in the accustomed manner, returning it, standing rigid. The mere size of the parade was mind-boggling. Men stood for as far as the eye could see. This was the send-off to the first soldiers that were to embark into Quadrant Three. Large transport ships waited patiently for their live cargo as the order to ‘left turn’ and ‘quick march’ was given.
The entire ground seemed to shake as feet were pounded into the asphalt ground, simultaneously sending a clap of vibration through the air. It took a further 30 minutes for the parade ground to be cleared, and once all transporters had secured their bay doors the last of them blast upwards to meet with the portenium cruisers. By this stage, the attack fighters were already secured aboard the large ships and waiting arrival of the 40,000 strong fighting force.
The three men on the dais moved off for afternoon tea once the last of the ships had departed, and not too soon. A cloud cover had commenced to envelope around the sky above, its ominous colour threatening to let leave of its water vapours in a down pour as fierce as the lightening which accompanied. The worst ever in the planet’s history.
Pre-dinner drinks were served and consumed with satisfaction. A look of worry from Bob was brought to the attention of Ozrammoz as he looked out across the table. “You seem somewhat disturbed, Mr Neil; I hope the liquid refreshment is to your satisfaction.”
“I don’t underestimate the wiliness of your soldiers, but I ponder as to their readiness. Four days is such a short period of time, and—”
“Time enough to learn of the new weaponry – I assure you, Mr Neil.” Alrim Motap broke in on the conversation: “It’s not as though they are walking into a trap, or large opposing force. They’re only assisting in the structure of defences for the probable arrival of Verton troops. We should have more forces there in no time at all. I do agree though, that information would be nice, but Quadrant Three don’t have any such communication devices for this desired effect, and as you have already pointed out, if there was any trouble, then your inserted forces would have informed us immediately.”
“So the acceptance and possibility that the Vertons may already be in possession of Equatia doesn’t worry you.”
“A small force if any, I am sure of that. My men are still favoured by the clearing of the planet’s surface by scanners on board the fighters just prior to the landing of the ground troops.”
“Four hundred fighters is a small number in comparison to our intelligence reports which point to an overwhelming number of Verton ships which exist within the Verton Empire,” Bob pointed out.
Ozrammoz placed his glass down. “Are you saying, Mr Neil, that you would prefer our troops remain grounded on Alza Ningh? It was your point to push into Quadrant Three, and may I say, a required move in order to close off one of the two QEM-gates leading out of Quadrant Two; the other being from Basbi to Zirclon.”
“Quite right; but you don’t expect me to not to wonder on all possible avenues available to the enemy?”
“I suppose not, Mr Neil. Let us not worry too much on the subject; after all, it’s a pressing engagement which must be ventured.” Ozrammoz let go a wiry smile. “The remainder of my troops will be ready soon enough. And then they can assist the advance party of 40,000 in any operation required, including the placement of a warning device in the QEM-gate fork between Irshstup, Equatia and Verton.”
PLANET EQUATIA.
THE PALACE.
Two assistants dressed Muriphure for the coming engagement. The navy-blue jacket was buttoned up and each button polished with a rag to bring out the sparkle within. The golden embroidered lanyard was lifted up along the length of his left arm and secured in place by the epaulet that also exhibit the gold lettering LM – Legion Millennium – and the substantial rank of Supreme Warlord.
A kepi with broad red band and silver hat badge was placed on his head and a sword in scabbard secured to his left side, lying neatly along the white seam of the trouser leg. They continued to work as Warlord Benai nodded loyally to Muriphure’s orders, fighting back the urge to laugh at the sight he now saw. He didn’t realise that the outfit Muriphure now wore was worn for a specific reason – a specific send off. “Ensure you inform Newtwon of my promise. If he can’t continue along with the campaign without further losses then I shall personally have him executed. Tell him that he has reached his quota for which I have set him.”
“I will, sir.”
“He may remain in control of the situation on Irshstup and will control the forces made up of what he has remaining, along with the robots of that planet. You my friend will not relinquish command of your troops or vessels, and will take full responsibility for the assault against planet Basbi Triad. Do not let me down.”
“Your wishes are my command, sir, and the message will be passed, I can guarantee you success, that I know.”
“Very well, you may leave.”
The servants placed the finishing touches to Muriphure’s dress as a personal guard came in and past Benai as he departed. “Warlord Vetty, sir. The congregation is ready for your arrival.”
“Very good, I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, si
r.”
The servants prepared to vacate as Vetty positioned the kepi into a more favourable position. “You have done well with the transformation of the King’s old garment. This will be what I need for the final demoralisation of the Mildratawa and the taking of all matters, and peace, into my own hands; it needs little adjustment.” He made his exit now, down towards the second dining room that had been converted into an arena for his pleasure.
As the door opened he saw that the construction had been carried out to his specific orders. The room was 60 metres by 20 metres. To one end, a thick glass pain had been placed to seal off a quarter of the room and seating arranged for easy viewing into the arena itself. The entire floor had been cleared of furniture.
Only metres to the front of the thick glass panel were two closed off cabinets of glass, each one-metre square and two in height. The King and John Younge were caged, one to each of the glass tombs. They were dressed in shorts only, and a dagger was held in each of their right hands.
Muriphure’s eyes fell to the floor. Attached to either side of the glass cubicles were fine wire meshed cages and in each of these, two balai timits. They fought even now to get to their free meal of human and Equatian flesh.
Commander Younge’s company stood gagged and tied to a thick rail opposite, but facing the window from which Vetty was watching. They could also see their leader, stripped to shorts and looking down in a controlled panic, eyeing the porthole at the floor of the glass containers.
Muriphure looked over to his left and gave the nod. Glass panels over the ports between the balai and the victims were lifted manually by members of the guard, who in turn moved back from view once the seals had been broken.
Within a split second the flying creatures of death were thrashing out at the groins and unprotected throats of the two men and blood commenced to spurt over the walls of the glass enclosures.
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