by Alma Boykin
“We’ll do better now that we can start beating the furbearing bastards like the mammals they are,” he snarled. Rada heard Zabet’s mind laughter, which cut off abruptly at the noble’s glance. <
Rada’s and Beerkali’s seconds in command arrived almost simultaneously. “My Lord, what do you want to do with the prisoners?” Beerkali’s lieutenant asked. The Great Lord deferred to Rada, who pursed her lips.
“How many are there, Lieutenant?” What we do depends on how many we have to deal with, she thought. Part of her wanted to execute them all, but another part didn’t want to face suicidal resistance at a later point.
“Twenty Azdhagi and two humans,” he replied. “The rest are dead or fled. Not that they’ll get very far.”
Rada decided, “Execute half the traitors, including any officers, quickly and cleanly. Keep the humans alive for now. I want to question them.”
The lieutenant hesitated briefly. “My lord, one of their officers is Great Lord Rashkali’s eldest son.” As he spoke, two of the larger Defenders escorted the person in question to where the nobles stood.
“Is it? In that case . . .” The Lord Defender turned to his concubine and to the surprise of the watching Azdhagi offered, “Zabet, would you object to doing the honors? I’ll loan you my sword.”
<
“You can’t execute me! I’m a Great Lord! My sire will cry feud against all of you and have you killed!” the young male protested, struggling against his captors.
Great Lord Beerkali agreed. “Quite correct, you stupid bastard of a tree-fuzzy. And we’re already in a feud, in case you’ve forgotten your history lessons. So I’ll let the Lord Defender’s concubine do the job,” and he watched impassively as the silvery reptile stabbed the noble through the heart. “Toss that trash with the rest of the refuse,” Beerkali ordered his men. They hauled the body off as Zabet cleaned and returned the Lord Defender’s sword.
<
Beerkali snorted as the Lord Defender nodded, “Only if we lose, and I don’t intend for that to happen.”
<
<
Later that night, as they were going to sleep in a tent outside Skytouched’s walls, Zabet asked, <
Rada studied the tent’s ceiling, one hand caressing her friend’s ears. She whispered, “When I get caught, I die slowly and messily unless I get the chance to kill myself first.” She continued louder, for the benefit of anyone loitering around, “Since we’re going to win, it’s nothing to worry about.”
Zabet kept her thoughts to herself and pretended to fall asleep. She had already decided that if they lost, the enemy was not going to have the pleasure of taking either her or her Pet alive. Rada’s words just confirmed her plans.
The morning clouds and fog from which Skytouched estate drew its name covered everything the next morning as Lord Ni Drako and Great Lord Beerkali leaned over map screens and pages of information spread across the table in the manor’s main hall. Rada’s men, aside from Sergeant Biss, were still sleeping in their shelters outside the walls. Beerkali scratched his muzzle absentmindedly as the two war leaders considered their options.
“I’d like to blow them into Shibo’s orbit,” the tan and grey striped noble stated.
Rada nodded. “I tend to agree with you, my lord, except that some people might object to our turning portions of Drakon IV into glass. Overkill and all that.”
Biss’s eyes opened wide as he realized that the Lord Defender was serious, as was Great Lord Beerkali. Beerkali’s tail swished and he sighed. “True.” He gave the mammal a shrewd look. “I don’t suppose you can prevent this invasion from taking place, can you?”
She went still, her ears flat. “My lord, if you know enough to ask that, you also know that it’s not allowed for me to change a timestream I’m living or know of.” Biss heard no expression in his lord’s voice and saw nothing in the mammal’s face.
The old noble hissed a laugh. “You’re right. And the knowledge stays with me, Lord Defender. So,” he tapped the map display with one talon. “We’re here with our forces. Kirlin the Younger is here,” he pointed, “and Dissch here. You said there were depots still holding out?”
“Yes, my lord. Twelvetrees and Riverbend remain in the grasp of the Defenders. The mercenaries and their allies have been focusing on the Palace, Sunblast and the lowland estates.” Rada straightened up and folded her arms, thinking, tail tip rotating. “My initial plan had been to link up with you and Kirlin, pull what we need from the depots and then liberate the Palace. With that in our forefeet, we should be able to rally enough lords to eject the enemy, and have the Imperials’ resources at hand as well.”
Beerkali swirled his strong-side forefoot in negation. “We need the Imperials behind us first, Ni Drako. Keep the Raiders from getting reinforcements and present the face of the Empire as well as our own cause. Then the undecideds will join us.”
Rada grimaced. “Good point, my lord. I’m too used to thinking in purely combat terms. I forget the diplomatic side of things,” she admitted with a bit of chagrin.
Beerkali snorted. “You’re also exhausted, Lord Defender. You’ve told me what you know. I recommend that you go get breakfast, sleep a few more hours, and then we start really planning.”
Rada recognized the wisdom in his suggestion and bowed herself out, leaving the older noble making a list of resources available and people they needed on their side. A servant led the Lord Defender and Sgt. Biss to a makeshift kitchen that had been set up just inside the main gate. Rada and Biss got a decent breakfast, and she went back to her and Zabet’s tent. “You’re dismissed for the moment, Biss. Go get some sleep, and I’ll have Scheer wake you up when I need you.”
“Who’s going to be on guard, Lord Mammal?” he wanted to know, looking around her tent. In reply she opened the flap and he caught sight of Zabet polishing her armored gauntlets, a disassembled blaster spread out on the ground cloth in front of her. “Very good, Lord Mammal,” and he saluted and left.
Rada filled her partner in on the morning’s discussion before putting herself to sleep. Zabet finished caring for her weapons, then pulled a notepad and stylus out of a pocket in her carry harness and set to work. By the time Rada awoke four hours later, the True-dragon had compiled all the information she could find about Gray’s Raiders, and had found maps of the major estates around Skytouched. And there’s this, she hissed a little in anger as she read the message. It had been sent to the Lord Defender’s social computer account, one of several that Rada had given Zabet pass codes for. If they thought they had a problem before, now they’re really screwed, Zabet thought to herself.
Lord Beerkali appeared rather dismayed when Zabet accompanied Lord Ni Drako to their next meeting but he decided that the emergency overrode normal social rules. “Lady Zabet has a great deal of expertise in trade and business, my lord,” Rada explained, “and she’s much better with computers and information technology than I am.” For her part, Zabet stayed quiet, seemingly content to listen and take notes when needed.
“Here’s what I’ve been able to piece together thus far, Lord Defender,” Beerkali stated. “Four sixts ago, Gray’s Raiders landed here,” he tapped the screen, “halfway between the Palace and Sunblast. They were unopposed until they reached the ground, so I assume either they had permission to land, or Minister of War Sheekar allowed them access.” He paused to let the information sink in. “Then they met up with Sheekar, Rashkali, and probably several othe
rs, got their support and additional troops, and attacked the Palace, your estates, Sunblast, the Defenders’ posts, and me. Because of dividing their forces, they’ve only managed to capture and hold the Palace and the Defenders’s posts, although a number of estates surrendered without a fight and others are watching but have not been attacked. Yet.” Beerkali sat back on his haunches as Rada considered his words.
“Has anyone heard anything from Sunblast or the King-Emperor?” she asked.
“Not recently, and no. But, and this is from your Corporal Schriik and my com specialist, someone has been broadcasting just before sunset on the Royal frequency. It’s a series of meaningless phrases, always ending with ‘Dawson’s Christian’.” Beerkali looked puzzled but Rada sat up straight, her good eye gleaming.
“It’s a message for me and the King-Emperor, my lord, using part of a song about a battle cruiser that refused to die. Which I suspect means Kirlin the Younger is sending it. But unless we get supplies, nothing changes.” Rada studied the map and the list of neutral or hiding lords. “So, relieve the depots, then Sunblast, and in the process win the Imperials over to us?”
Beerkali nodded. “I’ve had two cautious messages since our broadcast on the Royal frequency this morning, Lord Defender, from nobles willing to help us with men. But we need weapons and supplies, and air support.”
“And if Lord Sheekar has turned traitor? How are we to bring in the Imperials, since they come under his command? The Defenders swear to the people of Drakon IV, not to me, so that’s not a problem. But what about the Imperials?” Rada thought aloud.
Before anyone could say anything, Zabet poked her lord with her tail and passed him the note pad, as one of the retired Imperials listening in with the other soldiers started waving his tail to attract attention. Rada looked up and acknowledged him.
“Lord Mammal, we swear to the King-Emperor, not the Minister of War. Since the Palace was attacked, that means we are free to aid the Defenders,” he said.
“And Lady Zabet reminds me that per Imperial law, the Imperial forces cannot function within the atmosphere of Drakon IV, unless ordered to by the Lord Defender during a planetary emergency,” Rada added smoothly, although the information was news to her. She glanced at the date on the law’s passage. Damn, but Ku-schkii trusted me. Although not enough to inform me of this little bit of legislation, it appears, bless his scaly little heart.
Beerkali’s eyes went wide and a murmur of speculation rose from the Azdhagi in the room. “So, if Sheekar is a traitor, you now command all our armed forces,” the striped noble hissed.
“If, my lord, and it’s a very large if,” the Lord Defender reminded everyone. “So, tomorrow we move out. Biss, Teerki, Schriik, Zabet, stay here. The rest of you are dismissed to get some rest and look after your weapons.”
“Taarni and Biek, I want you with me. Everyone else may go, and Master Taarni will have instructions for you later,” Lord Beerkali announced. With a rustle and clatter of talons on brick, the soldiers filed out of the main hall, going back to their respective quarters.
“Lord Defender, why haven’t we been attacked from the air?” the noble asked quietly after they finished their plans.
“Because one, the Raiders can’t fly Azdhagi ships any more than I can, two, they’ve not been able to coerce the Defender pilots into fighting for them yet, and three, the Raiders don’t have their own air-attack ships.” Rada continued in an absent sort of recitation, “Transport yes, but like most companies they are ground forces first and foremost. Probably, oh, fifty percent of the hiring parties prefer to provide air support themselves and most mercenary Companies are not willing to pay what having their own trans-atmospheric ground-support fighters cost. After what happened to Axel’s Animals, robotic fighters are just about anathema.” Which is why you don’t buy software from third parties she thought tartly. Aloud she added, “That’s part of why the Marauders were so successful,” she smiled to herself, looking back through the years. “We provided air support for hire, and we were very, very good at what we did.”
Master Taarni recoiled. “You were a mercenary?” he hissed.
“Still am. If you look in the Royal archives you’ll find my contract in the documents from Shi-dan’s reign.” Rada explained calmly. “But there’s no one who can match my price and I gave my word of honor to protect the people of Drakon IV.”
And with that the mammal excused herself and went to see about organizing her men. Master Taarni’s neck spines flared with agitation, but the others seemed unconcerned about the Lord Defender’s past.
Two days later, Biss and a group of Beerkali’s bodymen crouched on the back of a low rise, looking down at the Defenders’ supply depot at Twelvetrees. A roughly company-sized group of Azdhagi clustered on two sides of the depot in preparation for a final attack on the facility. “They’re going to be surprised,” Biss observed to Master Taarni.
The brown reptile started to reply, but the sound of engines drowned out his words. First, an aircraft snarled down from over the observers’ hill and strafed the attackers before soaring away. Then a rumble grew from the opposite direction as three antique armored vehicles clanked into view, aimed and fired on the astonished enemy. Taarni snapped an order into his radio and he and Biss led two-thirds of the combined House and Defender soldiers down the face of the ridge. Someone in the traitors’ forces tried to open fire on the arriving infantry. “Poor judgment,” Biss observed, after his ears finished ringing from the armored vehicles’ shots.
“Agreed,” Master Taarni said. The Defenders within the depot opened the gates and started to emerge.
All at once everyone’s radios crackled. “Ground One to all forces, prepare defense now. Counterattack force en route, repeat counterattack force en route, bearing zero five zero from Twelvetrees, distance five kliqs, over.”
“Ground Three acknowledges,” Biss snapped.
“Sky Two acknowledges,” Taarni followed.
“Twelvetrees One acknowledges,” the depot’s commander replied.
They heard the sound of a chain-gun firing in the distance. “Leave some for us!” Biss added, then ducked for cover.
What followed would have been a massacre, had the Defenders been taken as unawares as the traitors and their allies planned. But they weren’t. No one but the Lord Defender had planned on Beerkali’s “toys” being in such good repair and so well supplied with ammunition, catching the enemy flat-footed and in the open. It didn’t help the attackers that the Defenders, anticipating something at some point, had carefully sighted and ranged the two hilltops closest in elevation to the one under Twelvetrees Depot, and passed those numbers to Beerkali. Most of the counterattack force managed to get away but only at the cost of abandoning a fair amount of equipment and the soldiers they’d come to help. Perhaps half-a-dozen survivors remained from the initial group by the time Lord Ni Drako and “his concubine” arrived on scene.
<
Rada frowned, not happy. “According to tradition, a soldier is served in the afterlife by the souls of the enemies he kills. And apparently some Defenders plan on a very lazy eternity.” She raised her voice, “Which makes getting decent intelligence very difficult, and means harder fighting at our next battle.” A few heads ducked, and she saw a few uncomfortable tail twitches, but heard no apologies forthcoming.
A mildly singed lieutenant approached the Lord Defender. “Lord Defender Ni Drako, welcome to Twelvetrees,” he said and saluted.
She returned the courtesy. “Thank you, Lieutenant Keersar. Status report.”
“Twelvetrees depot has twenty five effective combatants, five injured and ten dead, Lord Defender. We’re low on food, and have consumed one third of available blast pistol and rifle ammunition but are otherwise fully stocked.” The reptile was understandably proud of his base’s survival, and Rada agreed.
“Good work, Captain Keersar. I know you need a re
st, but first I want you, Sgt. Biss and Master Taarni to see about getting a distribution plan worked out for our combined forces.” Keersar nodded as Rada continued, “Which way to your infirmary?”
“Straight through, then on the west side, third door on the left off the interior hallway, sir,” he replied promptly, pointing with his tail.
“Thanks. Scheer, get our wounded there.” The Wanderer headed into the fort, followed by Zabet. Something distracted the True-dragon for an instant and she looked over her shoulder. She turned back around just in time to see one of the Defenders on the far side of the courtyard raising a blaster. <
Rada staggered, then fell to the ground and lay motionless. Other Defenders piled onto the shooter as Zabet closed the distance between the gate and her fallen pet. The True-dragon reached for her friend, then stopped and removed her gauntlets so she wouldn’t accidently kill the mammal. A scorched dent in the Lord Defender’s chest armor smoked a bit and Zabet smelled cooked meat as she found Rada’s pulse. It beat strong, so Zabet turned her attention to unfastening the ruined armor. Willing forefeet assisted her in lifting the ceramic composite shell off, revealing burnt cloth and skin. Talons ripped the shirt away, and everyone heaved a sigh of relief to find the Lord Defender bruised, burned, and stunned, but not seriously wounded.
“Stinking fewmets, what happened?” Biss demanded as he clattered to a halt beside Zabet.
One of the other Defenders answered. “That thick-tailed excuse for a moron shot the Lord Defender. He claims he thought Lord Mammal was one of the humans.”
Biss stalked over to the rather battered private and gave him a Look. The smaller reptile cringed and Biss asked in a calm, quiet voice, “Now that you’ve proven that space has less of a vacuum than the area within your head, tell me something. Have you ever seen a human with a tail?”