by Ava D. Dohn
*
General Bortaiac listened intently while Chasileah relayed Tizrela’s battle plan. He studied the large table map as the major moved tiny figures and shapes around on it. The major would point to locations or move the figures across the map, all the while, informing the general of Command’s intent.
After pushing several pieces representing infantry and mobile armor, Chasileah stood back and examined the map. “If the army sweeps westward in this manner, we should be able to take the entire HerpetonMnema. If we fail to secure the north passage wall, and the army is forced to withdraw, it could suffer the same fate as before.”
General Bortaiac nodded, acknowledging the gravity of the matter. “Without those eastern positions in our hands, I don’t feel we can retain ours here. This continuous bombardment is taking a heavy toll. Some of my companies have suffered thirty percent casualties just staying the trenches. But what you’re asking of them will be far worse. If I move my people into the open across that plain…” He pointed to a spot on the map, “it will be a wholesale slaughter. We must silence the big guns pummeling us from those hills before we move out.”
Chasileah agreed. “The air wing is launching a massive blitz on those hills just prior to your advance. The Navy is pushing its 22nd Battle Group in for cover as soon as you move. They will provide continual ground support, and also attempt to keep the mosquitoes off your back.”
Sweeping her hand to the north along the map, the major continued, “To carry this second front, Army Command has been reorganized. As you know, most of the soldiers think Field Marshal Trisha is directing this mission. It helps keep the enemy blind to who really is. For that reason, General Tizrela will remain hidden in the background, but still giving the orders. General DinChizki is taking command on the ground and General Copeland has been given field command as his direct lieutenant.”
“Over the past three days, along here…” Chasileah pointed at a spot in the Northern sector, “a division has been moving forward to offer you support. It will advance along your northern flank. They’re mainly new, green recruits.” She shook her head. “It was the best we could do, what with most of our veterans tied down at PrasiaOdous.”
Then she offered some reassurance. “But I’ve been told its leadership is colorful and battle-ready. The division is new, a collection of random brigades and regiments recently gathered at MueoPoros. A fellow name of ‘Jackson’ leads it. Don’t know much about him, but I’ve been told he’s proved his battlefield leadership abilities while in the Second Realm. This Jackson has some other veteran soldiers with him from the Realms Below, plus there are several of our own qualified officers in the mix.”
She tapped a finger to the side of her face. “Oh, yes, I was to tell you that the corps name is no longer the ‘3rd’, but, thanks to General Copeland, is now Trafalgar Corps. ...something about decisive victory and all that.”
The major leaned over the map, glancing this way and that. “Another division is working its way along the southern outer fortifications of Memphis. They’re taking a beating, but still advancing. As long as they hold their advance, Legion’s attention should remain off you for the moment.”
She stood back and looked the general in the eye. “You are the pivot on which this battle hinges. We have trusted the success of our mission to your abilities. If you fail, we fail. If we fail, we may lose the PrasiaOdous Mountain Range. Remember, please, we are all volunteers here. We have offered our lives to accomplish a task, and that is to win this war. Should it take the blood of all our souls to accomplish it, it is worth the price. Your duty is to, if possible, win the coming battle. If that’s not possible, then you must preserve as much of your war machine intact as you can, to prevent the loss of our current position.”
The general thanked Chasileah for the information she had delivered. He asked her some detailed questions, which she attempted to answer. When they were finished, the major bid her leave.
As she and Jonathan suited up, Chasileah made one more point with the general. “Sir, General Tizrela wishes to recommend that companies without adequate weapons be held in reserve.”
General Bortaiac didn’t understand. The major explained, “Some of your frontline regiments have veteran soldiers still equipped with crossbows - some even with lances. After the casualties we experienced at PurooGlossa, High Command has decided to refit and retrain these units as time affords. Meanwhile, we want to hold them out of harm’s way.”
The general shook his head in disapproval. “There are a lot of folks who are going to put up a big fuss, Major! I don’t know if I can make ‘em stand down in this coming storm!”
As Chasileah tied her vest off, she responded, and in not such a respectful way, “You’re a general! It’s your responsibility to maintain command. You have received your orders. Now make sure they’re carried out! If some resist, shoot them…in the leg of course! Still, it’s better to have an angry, wounded soldier putting up a fuss than to have a burning in the Silent Tombs.”
The shock on the general’s face quickly changed. A staff officer spoke with the same authority as his or her commander. Chasileah was only demonstrating the importance Tizrela placed on keeping the under-equipped soldiers out of harm’s way.
Bortaiac nodded his acceptance. “I’ll make sure the general’s orders are carried out, Major. Thank you for your willingness to risk the journey to personally deliver them.”
Jonathan followed Chasileah out of the command center and down the long corridor leading back to the tunnels. They had been there about two hours and the major wanted to return to headquarters before the advance began. When they neared the recess, Jonathan watched as the squad gathered to make the return trip.
“Where’s the sergeant?” Chasileah called out, as they approached. She stopped in front of a trooper at the edge of the group.
A grim-faced soldier, a little woman just over five feet tall and weighing a hundred pounds, looked down at the floor. “She’s…she’s not coming back with us, Major. I’m sorry.”
Chasileah looked into the woman’s face. She could tell something was greatly troubling her. “Tell me, please, what’s the problem?”
The woman continued to stare at the floor. “We were tired. I’m sorry, Major. We were so tired - hadn’t slept for two days. Didn’t know the sergeant was hit. Just thought she was resting.”
“What happened?” Chasileah’s voice carried her concern.
“Took a bullet under the armpit crossing the Clamshell, I think. Went through her lungs. I don’t think she even knew. She’s dead, Major.” The woman pointed off toward the dark recess. “Still where she went to sleep...” The woman looked Chasileah in the face, eyes pleading. “We didn’t know she was hurt.” She began to cry.
Chasileah surrendered to the moment. They could afford to be a little late. She wrapped her arms around the soldier and allowed her time to weep over the loss. After her tears slowed, the woman stepped back from the major and wiping her nose, thanked her for such kindness.
Chasileah asked. “Were you close?” The woman nodded as her tears began anew. “You stay here with the sergeant. Make sure she’s cared for.”
The woman squeezed the major’s hand, thanking her through teary eyes. She backed around and returned to the darkness, huddling next to the sergeant. As Chasileah’s party headed down the tunnel, they couldn’t help but hear soft sobs echoing in the distance.