by Ava D. Dohn
PalaHar scanned the distant low hills to the north of the broad valley at his front. The valley plain was some two leagues wide at this point, slowly narrowing in width as it snaked north. Snow squalls being pushed by strong, northeasterly stormwinds blowing in over the Frushion Sea, a giant freshwater lake some ten leagues to the east and north of PalaHar’s position, were sweeping in bands of snow across the valley and hills, reducing visibility to nearly zero at times.
After watching another armored battalion disappear into driving snow, he turned to General DinChizki. “If they hadn’t stopped advancing, I’d be seeing their armor coming down that pass right now.”
DinChizki, with his heavy coat collar turned up to cut the bone-chilling wind, took his hand out of a pocket, pointing off to the north and then swept it around to the south. “If they take this valley, we can’t stop ‘em! Past these hills is nothing but flat expanse…only hospitals and supply terminals. The army will be cut in two. My western flank will be isolated, with no hope of reinforcements or escape.”
PalaHar then pointed to the north. “That’s the last of our armor going up the pass right now. I’d say you’ve put about a hundred tanks and possibly as many mobile cannons and missile carriers up there to stop ‘em. How are we elsewhere along the line? Have you moved reinforcements into those places, too?”
Din’s icy breath was whisked away as he answered, “I’ve moved everything forward. There’s nothing left. I even pulled all non-emergency personnel out of the hospitals and offices, gave them weapons and marched them toward the front.” He shook his head. “I’ve less than a hundred fighters. Those damn Depoues 49’s are giving us a beating. I lose three to their one. And to make matters worse, our three closest aerodromes were bombed this morning. Now what few fighters I do have are forced to fly to more distant bases to refuel and resupply.”
He looked into the dismal sky. “And we’re not going to get help from the Navy – ‘least not for awhile. They have problems of their own. Been informed they’re engaging several enemy fleets. Sounds to me like a battle almost as big as the Day of Tears.”
PalaHar agreed. “There’ll be no help from them. Can Copeland do anything for us?”
Din shook his head. “Legion’s armies went in all along Copeland’s front. Latest report is that they been stopped, but there’s one hell of a fight going on to hold ‘em.”
“Then we will have to defend ourselves.” PalaHar sighed. He looked at Din asking, “So there’s nothing left between us and them? No reserves?”
Dismayed, Din replied, “There’s General Chasileah’s brigade of horse soldiers, but they’re not for real fighting.”
PalaHar asked him what he meant.
Din explained, “The field marshal came up with some brainstorm idea of putting all the mounted couriers, scouts and honor guards into some kind of a last resort glitter brigade. When all else fails, they’re supposed to swoop down on the enemy, banners flying and horns blasting, and charge into glory to boost the morale of our defeated army. All I can see it doing is raising the number of our dead.”
PalaHar thought a while, rubbing his chin in a raised hand as he nodded to himself. After a moment, he called to Treston. “Colonel, warm up the autocar.”
Treston jumped to his duties while acknowledging the general and hurried off to fetch the machine.
PalaHar then addressed Din. “I need to go up the valley to get a better look. Can’t do any good here.” He scanned the surrounding countryside. It was only getting colder and the storm nastier. He warned, “You and I know our commander. Trisha isn’t some dandy. If she gave orders for Chasileah to set up a party brigade, then she’s got something going on in her brain making her do it. My suggestion is for you to station them right along here. If the enemy reaches this far down the valley, it won’t make any difference where our fancy horse-soldiers are hiding. Might as well have them die in a glory ride than have them butchered in their tents.”
General Din thanked PalaHar for his sage advice. The two men turned to go their separate ways. “God’s speed!” Din called out to the general as his autocar pulled away.
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