Scout's Law

by Henry Vogel

  Less than five minutes after I emerged onto the deck, the Tercel rose into the predawn sky. The mighty steam engines came to life and the airship’s propellers churned the air. Tercel gathered speed, reaching its normal cruising speed within twenty minutes—and still she kept accelerating.

  “Keep the pressure up, lads!” exhorted the airship’s engineer from the stern. “It’s better for us to show up early and Captain Rice not need our help than to show up late and find him desperate for it!”

  “Mister Carson,” Jorson called to the engineer, “can the engines take much more of this?”

  “Aye, sir! They’re my engines!” Indignation evident in both his tone and posture, Mister Carson added, “May I also remind the Captain that the engines are highly sensitive and likely to take affront if they hear you questioning them?”

  “You may assure them it was only concern for their wellbeing that prompted my question, Mister Carson.” Captain Jorson turned away from the engineer and caught sight of my raised eyebrows. “Mister Carson is eccentric, but he is also the best engineer in the fleet.”

  As the airship approached speeds even my good friend and pilot Nist would consider acceptable, I found myself forced to concur with Captain Jorson’s assessment. The sun peeked over the distant horizon and quickly spread the bright light of dawn over the desert before us.

  I was concentrating on the mountains ahead of us, sure the galactics’ mountain base must be near, when the lookout shouted, “Sir, there’s fighting around the wreck of the Vanguard!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  David

  My gaze swept over the men gathered in Vanguard’s largest hold. Hard eyes looked back from faces covered with blood and sweat and grime. Each face wore a grim, resolute smile. Men too wounded to stand on their own were supported by comrades. Front and center, unconsciously holding hands, Jade and Chris watched me with the same resolution as the rest.

  I turned to the man standing next to me. “Captain Wright, you heard our opponent’s demand. Should we accede to it?”

  “Sir, the finest crew of the finest ship to ever sail the skies of Aashla stands before you,” Wright said. “Men like these are destined for greatness—and you don’t achieve greatness by giving up!”

  A ragged cheer rose from the men. I held my hands up and silence fell immediately.

  “Ensign Marlow?” I asked.

  Surprised to hear his name called, Chris released Jade’s hand and snapped to attention. I returned his salute before saying, “At ease, Ensign.”

  I looked back and forth between the two teenagers. “I have a particularly tough set of orders for you, Ensign. I want you to lead Jade, the other three ensigns, and the four ship’s boys to safety.”

  “You want me to abandon my ship and my crew in their most desperate hour, sir?” Surprise and consternation filled Chris’s voice.

  “I want you to save the youngest and most vulnerable members of this crew. I want you to carry on in memory of the Vanguard. I want her story told far and wide. And, should this be the end for those of us who stay, I want you to offer comfort to the families of the crew—from the parents of the lowest ranked airman to Her Royal Highness, Princess Callan.” I placed a hand on the young Ensign’s shoulder. “I told you my orders were particularly tough. Are you up to it?”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” Chris snapped.

  All in all, it was a truly moving moment. One filled with manly stoicism. Every man present swelled with pride and honor. The teenage girl present was less impressed.

  Her green eyes wide in what I soon recognized was incredulity, Jade said, “Wow, you guys really are ready to die and you’re feeling pretty damned pleased with yourselves about the whole thing. Far be it from me to get in the way of your mad charge toward the grave, but could I offer a suggestion first?”

  All around the hold, men turned affronted glares on the girl. Next to me, I sensed Captain Wright drawing himself up to issue a stern rebuke. I hurried to speak first.

  “If you have a better idea, Jade, I will be most happy to hear it.”

  “Why don’t you just challenge this Thor guy to a duel for leadership of the army?” she asked.

  I furrowed my brow, puzzled. “You know as well as I do that he won’t accept the challenge. It won’t even buy us an extra minute, so what would be the point?”

  Jade actually rolled her eyes at my question. “Did you pay any attention to the army you’re fighting? At least half of them are trogs.”

  Comprehension dawned on me, though Chris responded first. “Of course! If he refuses, the trogs will see him as a coward and abandon him! And if he fights, Captain Rice will kill him! That’s brilliant!”

  His face shining with excitement, Chris wrapped his arms around Jade and kissed her. Surprised, Jade stiffened for a second before settling into the kiss. Hoots and hollers from the crew suddenly got through to the young couple. Blushing furiously, they broke apart, eyes downcast.

  “My deepest apologies, sir,” Chris said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  At a glance from Wright, I let him respond to his Ensign. “You should apologize, Ensign Marlow. If I were in your place, I’d kiss the young lady a second time!”

  The crew laughed as Chris and Jade stared at Wright in surprise. From somewhere in the crowd, a voice called, “Don’t just stand there gawking, lad! Vanguards never shirk their duty!”

  I waited a few seconds for the embarrassed pair to finish a much more awkward kiss.

  “Ensign Marlow, while our plans have changed, your orders have not. I still believe this will come to a fight and, now that we’ve got the enemy fixated on those of us inside the Vanguard, I want our youngest crew members away from here.”

  “Aye, sir,” Chris responded. “With your permission, I’ll gather my charges.”

  When I nodded, Chris and Jade went through the various holds. They returned a minute later, trailed by the ensigns and ship’s boys.

  “Stay low, keep the Vanguard between you and Thor’s little army, and don’t stop for anything except a direct order from a superior officer,” I said. “Do you have any questions?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. Take two of the blaster rifles and swords for you and the other ensigns. Leave as soon as I call out to Thor and draw their attention to me.”

  With that, I left the broken hull and climbed atop it. Wright came with me as Chris and the other youngsters waited for my challenge.

  “Do you have any idea why this Thor fellow pulled all his men back to him?” Wright asked. “A smart commander would have kept us encircled.”

  “We already know Thor isn’t a smart commander. He’s a brilliant technician, I’ll grant you, and probably assumes brilliance in one area means he’s brilliant at everything else.” I stared across the quarter mile of open ground to Thor’s army, trying to pick him out of the crowd. He wasn’t anywhere near the front. “I also suspect he’s afraid I’ll Boost, somehow cross a quarter of a mile before anyone reacts, and kill him. So he surrounds himself with sword fodder.”

  “Coward,” Wright muttered.

  Instead of responding, I raised my voice and yelled, “Thor, can you hear me?”

  From somewhere within the mass of men and trogs, a voice responded, “Yes. Are you ready to surrender?”

  “Not in the least,” I called. “I challenge you to trial by combat for leadership of your army!”

  Amplified laughter rang out in response to my challenge. When Thor managed to control his mirth enough to talk, he did so in galactic basic. Derision dripping from every syllable, he said, “Can you truly be that stupid, Rice? Have you spent so much time reading the public accounts of your so-called adventures that you’ve begun to believe them?”

  “I have little interest in reading some writer’s interpretation of my life.” After my initial response in galactic basic, I switched to Mordanian. “Should I assume you are refusing my challenge?”

  Thor stuck to gal base, giving me the impre
ssion none of his followers spoke the language. “I am under no illusions concerning my prowess as a fighter, Rice. I’m far too intelligent to think I would stand a chance against you in a fight. You, on the other hand, have bought into this planet’s ridiculous concepts of manhood. You were raised in the Terran Federation—surely you understand all of this talk of honor and duty is nothing more than the prattle of an ignorant populace.”

  “Perhaps it is you who led a sheltered life in the Federation, Thor.” I stuck to Mordanian, trying to make sure the gist of Thor’s words got through to the trogs around him. After my brief run-in with the trogs at the top of the mountain, I felt safe assuming some of them understood me. “I learned of honor and duty from a young age and felt right at home in the Scout Academy.”

  Thor snorted at that. “I rest my case. I must admit this has been amusing, Rice, but now it’s time for you to surrender or die in a pointless display of that honor you hold so dear.”

  “I had to try, Thor,” I called back. “For the record, would you please respond to my challenge in Mordanian?”

  Thor heaved an amplified sigh and switched languages. “Very well, Rice. Let it be known that I decline your challenge to a duel.”

  I watched the trogs on the edges of Thor’s mass of followers, waiting for them to respond to Thor’s refusal. I was still looking for movement from the trogs when Wright caught my arm.

  Pointing to the left side of the mass before us, the Captain said, “There, sir!”

  I looked where he pointed and relief flooded through me. A small band of trogs broke away from the men around them and jogged back toward the mountain. Then another group of trogs broke from the crowd’s fringe. Then it became evident the trogs deeper inside the crowd were pushing their way through the men.

  Someone near Thor spoke, his words amplified just as Thor’s had been. “Sir, the trogs are leaving!”

  “I can see that!” Thor snapped. “Find out why.”

  “They won’t follow you anymore, Thor,” I called.

  “How do you know that, Rice?”

  I admit taking extreme pleasure from my answer. “Surely a man of your vast intellect can figure it out.”

  “Damn you, Rice, did you work some stupid code phrases into your words?” Anger warred with confusion in Thor’s voice.

  “Not at all, Thor. In fact, the trogs aren’t leaving because of anything I said.” A triumphant note crept into my voice. “They’re leaving because you refused my challenge.”

  “That’s absurd,” Thor scoffed. “Only an idiot would have accepted your challenge! I cannot believe any being wishes to follow an idiot.”

  “Didn’t you bother to study up on the trogs before you decided to come here and lead them in a great revolt against humanity?”

  “I skimmed it, along with the obviously fictional story of David Rice, the great hero of Aashla,” Thor said. “My intellectual peers and I dismissed the propaganda spewed by the hand-picked so-called scientists you and the other oppressors allowed on this planet. Any child could recognize your attempts at myth-making.”

  “At the risk of sounding trite, Thor, I think you’re just too damned smart for your own good!” The men gathered around me laughed as I continued, “I suspect you’re right, trogs probably don’t want to follow idiots. But I know they refuse to follow cowards. When you refused my challenge, you showed your cowardice. That was pretty stupid, don’t you think?”

  “We still outnumber you by more than two-to-one, Rice, and you’re only protection is a hulk of wood!” Thor raged. “Men, forget my orders to take prisoners. Burn the wreck and slaughter them all!”

  With a bloodthirsty yell, the men still under Thor’s command charged.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Callan

  At the lookout’s call, I rushed to the bow of the Tercel, joining Captain Jorson and his first officer. “Can you see anything of this battle, Captain?”

  “Yes, Your Highness, and what I can see is strange to say the least!” Jorson replied. “There are three groups out there, not the two I expected.”

  “May I borrow a spyglass and see for myself?” I asked.

  The first officer offered his glass to me. “I’d be honored, Princess Callan.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant…” I ducked my head in embarrassment. “I beg your pardon, but I don’t know your name.”

  The man saluted. “James Tucker at your service, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant Tucker,” I said, raising the spyglass to my eye.

  It took me a moment to find the wreck of the Vanguard and bring it into focus, but my heart leapt at the sight before me. David stood atop the broken hull with Captain Wright next to him. Seventy or eighty of the airship’s crew crouched just behind the keel. A hundred yards away, close to two hundred men charged across the desert toward them. Just as many trogs jogged slowly away from the impending battle. And in between the two groups stood a lone man, his head swiveling back and forth between the charging men and the retreating trogs.

  “Well, I see my husband managed to put himself right in the middle of another battle,” I said, lowering the glass. “He’d better enjoy it because we have one thing to do before we can help him.”

  “We do, Your Highness?” Jorson asked.

  “Most definitely, Captain. Do you see the man standing between the charging men and the retreating trogs? I want him. Take him alive if you can. Kill him if you can’t.”

  “You think he’s the ringleader?” the Captain asked.

  “Most definitely. He’s attempting to lead this battle from the rear, which isn’t the way we do things here on Aashla. And just look at the way he’s dressed—not even the most ridiculous court jester would wear such clothing in public.” Jorson and Tucker exchanged mystified glances at my comment. I patted both men on the arm. “Surely you’re willing to accept a woman’s word when it comes to fashion, gentlemen?”

  “Ah, yes, most definitely, Your Highness. I freely admit my wife must exercise the fashionable eye for both of us. I am hopelessly blind in such matters.” Jorson then pointed toward the retreating trogs. “But I doubt Thor’s ignorance of Aashlan fashion repulsed the trogs. Begging Her Highness’s pardon for my language, but I’ll be damned if I can figure out why they’re leaving.”

  “I heard worse language from my guards when I still slept in the palace nursery, Captain. No pardon is required. As for the trogs, I expect David challenged Thor to a duel and Thor refused,” I said. “I just wonder if David thought of it himself. Once he’s decided fighting is the only way out of a situation, he tends toward tunnel vision.”

  Jorson nodded, “That would explain things. With your permission, Your Highness, Lieutenant Tucker and I will give the orders to snatch Thor and then go to your husband’s aid.”

  “Of course, Captain. Though if you could spare a few seconds to have a speaking trumpet brought to me, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Certainly. I’m sure the men would appreciate a word from you before heading into battle.”

  “Which I’ll be delighted to give, Captain, though I think they’ll appreciate allies even more.” The two officers looked at me blankly, so I pointed at the trogs. “They aren’t willing to follow Thor any longer, but perhaps they’ll follow Lady Death in defense of the Hand of Death.”

  Comprehension dawned on the two men when they heard the trogs’ nickname for David and me. Tucker grinned broadly, “Just retribution, if ever I heard it, Your Highness!”

  I turned back toward the fight, raising Tucker’s glass to my eye. As orders rang out behind me, the mass of charging men swarmed up the side of the Vanguard’s broken hull. I watched David for the subtle change in speed and grace that would indicate he was Boosting. When I didn’t see the changes, relief that he wasn’t risking the damage Boost does to a body warred with consternation that he faced the mass of enemies without Boost’s benefits.

  “Hang on darling,” I whispered. “Help is near!”

  Then Thor�
�s men reached David’s position and he vanished into the swirling mass of hand-to-hand fighting.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  David

  A barrage of blaster bolts blazed glowing trails in the dawn air, whizzing harmlessly past Captain Wright and me. Running and firing at such long range made accurate shots virtually impossible, especially for men with little training in their use. Within a few seconds, the rate of fire dropped off significantly before stopping all together.

  A handful of our men returned fire with our captured blaster rifles. As with our foes, the rifles’ power packs ran dry after only a few shots.

  “Remember when I estimated those blaster rifles could fire twenty-five or more shots on a single charge?” I asked Wright. When he nodded, I said, “It appears I considerably overestimated.”

  “I am, of course, devastated to discover a member of the royal family is capable of a mistake of such magnitude, sir,” Wright said.

  “I’d be just a tad more likely to believe that if you weren’t grinning quite so broadly, Captain.”

  With a horde of men three times our number charging down upon us, Wright threw back his head and laughed. As the men closest to us passed the explanation down the line, the laughter proved contagious. Nothing Wright or I said was all that funny, but pre-battle tension can amplify anything—worries become terrors and mildly amusing becomes hilarious. The thing about battle tension is that it affects both sides.

  Fifty yards away, the men leading the charge saw Wright laugh as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The tension worked on their minds, too. Seeing such relaxed behavior from an opponent surely gave them pause. Their steps faltered and their headlong charge slowed. The men behind the leading edge crashed into the slowing ones before them. Men tangled and fell, tripping up more men as they were trampled by their fellows.

  The charge didn’t break, but it sewed confusion among our enemies and, for a minute or so, reduced their number by almost a quarter. The men who reached the wreck of the Vanguard still yelled their battle cry, but some of the lust was gone from it.