“Ah… no, I suppose not, as long as it’s not terribly… unusual or… frightening.”
Chack laughed. “It will not scare your men, I assure you, Major. I doubt those still with us are capable of fear.”
Jindal chuckled. “I hate to disillusion you, Major, but I remain terrified!”
Chack grinned back and patted the man on the shoulder. He was near the center of the line and decided this was as good a place as any. He stood atop the gravelly heap thrown up in front of the trench within full view of all the troops lining the lower ridge, not to mention the enemy below. He faced the sun and spread his arms wide.
“Maker of all things!” he roared in that special tone peculiar to his people that let their voices carry a great distance. A few musket balls began kicking up small dark clouds around him, but they were well beyond the effective range of small arms. Even if one struck him, it would hurt a lot, but probably wouldn’t do him serious harm. Roundshot was another matter, but it would take the enemy time to aim their pieces, and still the chance of a deliberate hit was remote.
Jindal was surprised to see a large number-most-of the Lemurians stand to join him, facing the west.
“I beg your protection,” Chack continued, “for myself and my people… and these brave humans who fight beside us. But if it is our time, please light our spirit’s paths to their Homes in the Heavens!”
That was it. Crossing his arms over his chest, Chack knelt in the gravel, bowing his head, and all the Lemurians who’d joined him did the same. Finished, they then slid back into the trench.
“That’s all?” Jindal asked.
Chack nodded. “Yep. Would you like to lead your own men in prayer?” He huffed. “It might stir the enemy into an even greater frenzy, given their antagonism toward any faith but theirs, but their marksmanship is quite poor.”
“Nooo,” Jindal said reflectively. “I think your service was surprisingly appropriate for everyone. Some may wish to add words of their own, but that’s customarily done in private, regardless.”
Far behind them, beyond the pass they’d used to cross the mountains, artillery boomed and stuttered with a trembling thunder.
“Well,” Chack said, “if Waaterford had fallen, we would have heard. Evidently, the enemy probes the pass with a flanking move. I think that’s our signal to ‘react’ to him! Your bugles will carry better in this wind, and the enemy betweus and the city will better recognize them anyway. Please pass the word to sound ‘retreat’!”
The battered regiments on the ridge began to withdraw, back up the steep incline. Happy cheering rose from the plain below, as did roundshot and volleys of musket fire. Balls pattered around the men and ’Cats, and there were screams when a cannonball gouged through a group of Imperial Marines and bounded upslope.
“Keep movin’, by Jasus!” bellowed a sergeant, “but by His holy name, I’ll eat yer livers if I ever see ye run like this wi’out orders!”
“Halt beyond the crest!” came another shout. “Remember your orders! Re-form behind Major Blair’s division!”
The sun was dropping quickly now; soon it would vanish beyond the mountains and darkness would descend. Chack hoped the sight of their enemy fleeing and the ensuing night would leave the Doms unprepared for what happened next. He himself was taken completely by surprise by what did happen then. He’d paused for a moment, trying to see the enemy in the gathering gloom, to gauge his reaction, when he caught a glimpse of a fleeting shape, then another, swoop past his field of view. Enough sunlight peeked between two distant crags for him to see a distinctive, light blue object pull up beyond the plain and silhouette itself against the still-bright sea. It was a “Nancy”! And then there was another, and another! Roiling pillars of fire erupted from the Dom position, and the cheers of a moment before turned to hideous screams that echoed against the mountains despite the wind and staccato detonations.
“Halt!” he roared. “Stop the retreat! Now is the time! Now! Jindal, where are you? Bugler!” He caught hold of a man still clawing his way upslope as if the noise from below were something directed at them. “Bugler! Sound ‘recall and reform’!” Chack didn’t know if there was a call for that, but recall should be sufficient. “Mortars!” he screamed upslope, hoping someone heard him. “Blair! Mortars, now!”
The retreating Marines, confused by the chaos and suddenly conflicting orders, began to pause. Many shouted at comrades still trying to do what they’d been told before. The night attack by the entire force had been carefully detailed and prepared, but now that was “in the crapper” too. There could be no delay; the time was at hand. Drums thundered on the summit above. Either Blair had heard Chack’s cries, or he’d figured it out for himself-probably the latter. Flashes lit the uneven peak, and more than a hundred mortar bombs lofted into the sky, aimed for the carefully ranged enemy position. Airplane engines still rattled by below, followed by more mushrooms of flame, and Chack hoped they wouldn’t hit any planes. Most of his Marines had stopped now, quickly re-forming to either side of him in the gathering twilight, lit by the inferno below. Gas-bombs, he thought, and shuddered. He’d always hated fire weapons, and though nobody had a problem using them against Grik he knew there’d been talk of not deploying them against the Doms. Well, talk is easy when all goes as planned. Fortunately, the enemy hadn’t known about, or had discounted the arrival of Maaka-Kakja and her Naval Air Wing.
“Chack!” came Blair’s voice behind him, just as Blas appeared at his side. He turned to see his Imperial friend trotting toward him, his whole force advancing down the mountain to join Chack’s and Jindal’s troops. Mortars still thumped from the crest above, showering the plain below.
“Major Blair,” Chack greeted him.
“I suppose if we must forever be reacting to things, it’s better that they be advantageous distractions caused by our people for a change!” Blair laughed.
“I agree entirely,” Chack said.
“See here, Chack,” Blair continued, “your fellows have been hanging out here in the breeze all day. Won’t you let my boys spearhead this advance?”
“By all means, Major Blair. Mine may still be somewhat confused at any rate. We’ll advance as your reserve, but let us move quickly! We must hit the enemy on the tail of this surprise hard enough to break them; then they’ll have to move more troops to stop us. That will give Sor-Lomaak his chance! Pray only he takes it!”
“He can’t have missed the signal! Such a show!” Blair stopped and looked at the sky. A “Nancy” was burning, plummeting toward the sea. “Terrible!” he said.
Chack looked into the gray-gold sky in time to see another plane, its right wing shredded, spiraling down. A bizarre shape detached itself from the falling “Nancy” and darted off into the darkness. “Something is destroying our planes!” he said in alarm.
“What can it be?”
“I don’t know, but those poor pilots have done their duty. We must do ours. Advance!”
USS Maaka-Kakja
“Something’s taking out our planes!” Orrin Reddy said, entering the bridge from the flight comm shack that overlooked the flight deck. Maaka Kakja was the first carrier to have the separate compartment, as well as the first to have an alternate frequency capability. First Fleet would have it as soon as the new equipment was delivered or the more talented “signalmen” made the simple modifications to the equipment already deployed. Orrin had been listening on the new, dedicated “air” band.
“What is it?” Lelaa asked, blinking concern, looking up from a just-delivered fleet report.
“That’s just it! They don’t know! Some kind of flying things, like giant lizard birds, are jumping them out of the dark, and tearing hell out of the planes. Nobody ever said there were giant lizard birds on New Ireland! And why would they go after our guys? They can’t even fight back!”
In the midst of his alarming report, Lelaa noted Orrin had used the term “our” a couple of times, for the first time, since he began performing the duties she’d set him aboard. She shook her head.