Zrykyk, King of the new-founded and eponymous City of the Zrykyk, smiled grimly as his forces marched on Gred. His relationship with the Koomites had paid off well. While his son Hrynkak, the traitorous King of Gred, had allied with the Griffon Republic and had been slow to adopt the technologies of the star-traveling races, Zrykyk had built a small army complete with hovercraft and firearms. It had taken a few days' travel to reach Gred, but the attack had come as a shock, as intended.
True, Gred had accepted some shield technology from the Republic, which had absorbed most of the heavy munitions Zrykyk had stored up, but the psychological impact of the opening volleys were certainly worth the cost. Next they had tried to charge the city, using their remaining artillery to level a section of the city wall. After that had come the token force of Republic soldiers left behind. They fought valiantly, but were not prepared for a full-scale invasion. After half of them had been killed or wounded, they fled back to the city and took up defensive positions.
Since then things had become a deadlock, with Zrykyk’s small force grinding down the few remaining Republic soldiers, trying to take cover behind the smoldering remains of Gred’s city walls and picking each other off.
“Fall back, Zrykites!” cried Zrykyk. The order went out and was obeyed, and Zrykyk stood by as his second-in-command, General Ghrast, addressed the small force. Ghrast was stocky, even by Hrudukite standards, and a wicked scar traveled from the lower half of his beak down his throat to a crack in his carapace.
“It is time to make our final push,” said the general. “Load up into the hovercraft and prepare to charge the city. Once inside the walls, dismount and form up, marching down the streets and executing any who offer resistance. Hrynkak will pay for the disrespect he’s shown his father!”
A cheer went up from the crowd and the soldiers climbed into their hovercraft beside large, metal crates and charged into the city.
***
The Halberd cut down into Hruduk's atmosphere, coming to a stop over the city of Gred.
"Halberd," said a voice over Kesht's comm, "this is Sergeant Hargen, Forward Galactic Division. Man, am I happy to see you!"
"Happy to be here, Sergeant," answered Kesht. "We don't have any drop troopers or shuttles on this boat, so let me know where I'm landing, unless you've got artillery targets for me."
"Unfortunately all of Zrykyk's forces are now within the city's shield, so you won't be able to hit them from the skies.
"As far as landing zones, I'd say the north gate, opposite the main gate, has the widest, flattest fields after the main gate. I’ll get in contact with the local forces and have a representative meet you there.”
“Sounds good,” said Kesht. “We’ll meet them there, but I’ll only drop off Talon Squad. The rest of us will land out front, that’ll fix the bad guys.”
Shortly thereafter, Talon Squad was running down the gangway and towards the northern gate of Gred, which opened slowly as they approached. A heavily-armored figure mounted on a desert hound trotted up out of the gate to greet them. She wore a full bronze helmet and breastplate and carried an oversized hammer.
“Hrake!” said the warrior, speaking in Hrudukite. “Welcome home, slayer of roach lords!”
“Dhraka!” answered Hrake in the same tongue. “I imagined my homecoming being a happier affair.”
“Me too, Warrior Hrake, me too. Follow me to death or glory!”
Hrake turned to the others and spoke in Talpaertan, the galaxy’s common tongue. “She says the fight is this way.”
Talon Squad ran into the gate and followed their guide through the streets of Gred to the front line on the other side of the city, watching the Halberd speed overhead as they went. The first indication of combat was the sound of gunfire and shouting, which they heard almost as soon as they entered the gate. As they approached the center of town and circled around the palace, they saw groups of Hrudukite slingers and Republic soldiers pressed against the far side of the square, hunkered down to escape the Zrykite fire coming from the south. Sergeant Hargen led the Republic troops. The copper-haired human male nodded to Talon Squad from across the square.
Doc took a set of stairs up to a flat roof, raised his rifle to his shoulder and fired at the enemy, each shot taking out an enemy soldier.
“Kahku!” came a call from a scarred Zrykite general. “Kahku!”
Zrykite soldiers approached the large metal crates sitting in the cargo areas of their hovercraft.
“Hounds,” said Hrake. “He’s saying ‘hounds.’”
“All units this is Talon Squad,” said Raivyn into her comms. “Be on the lookout for hound attacks.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Before she had finished the warning, massive dog-like creatures leapt from the opened metal crates. Raivyn recognized the desert hounds from their last visit to Hruduk, when she had seen them used to draw chariots. They were a little over five feet at the shoulder and nearly as wide, with broad, boxy heads and powerful, slavering jaws. They were on the Republic soldiers spearheading the fight in a matter of seconds, tearing armor and flesh like so much paper. The soldiers fired into the hounds and retreated, managing to kill a couple of hounds but hardly stemming the tide of tooth and claw.
Reclan had scrambled up to join Doc, firing her rifle at the hounds when she had a clean shot. Vanbrook, D’Jarric, and Hrake moved toward the enemy, firing as they went- Vanbrook with his revolver, D’Jarric with beams of energy from his fists, and Hrake with his combination warhammer and energy rifle.
Raivyn scanned the enemy and quickly found what she was looking for, a still figure among the chaos. She recognized the robes as that of a Hrudukite shaman; a psychic. She was certain the psychic was guiding the hounds and hoped to call them off by distracting him.
Breathing out, Raivyn crouched behind cover and focused on her target. Fighting through the headache that came with using her abilities, she sent out fingers of telepathic waves towards the psychic, waiting for the headache to give way to a rush of exhilaration as she attempted to overpower her enemy’s mind. However, the rush did not come as her attack was blunted against the psychic’s natural defenses.
Changing her approach, Raivyn closed her eyes and tried to study the shielding that blocked her attack, but felt a pressure pushing back against her when she did. She opened her eyes and saw the psychic staring directly back at her. He smiled and pointed at Raivyn, and every hound turned toward her at once, one even dropping the Gredite soldier it had been gnawing on.
Vanbrook saw the change and used the distraction to his advantage, stabbing one hound through the throat and turning to shoot another all in one smooth motion. Raivyn gritted her teeth and changed her focus, looking to the hounds instead. She slammed out multiple rivers of T-waves, targeting every hound she could. While the psychic had seemingly impenetrable defenses, the hounds were another matter entirely. Their minds already hazy from the psychic pressure being used on them, they stopped in their tracks as Raivyn’s attempts to calm them overwhelmed their already muddled minds.
The frustrated psychic from the other side of the battlefield redoubled their efforts, and Raivyn could feel them assaulting the hound’s minds in a psychic equivalent of whipping them. She redoubled her efforts as well, trying to sooth the hounds. The hounds looked back and forth between their would-be masters. One large hound, still close to the Zrykite forces, turned, ran, and leapt, taking the shaman up in his jaws and shaking him until he stopped struggling. Dropping the corpse, the hound howled and ran into the east of the city, the other hounds following him.
The fighting had all but ceased as the hounds, which had become the focal point of the battle, had stopped attacking. When the pack had left the battlefield, the Zrykite general screamed and began firing into the Republic and Gredite troops, reigniting the battle in earnest.
An armored Hrudukite across the square, outfitted much like the Hrudukite who had met Talon Squad at the north gate, rose up and charged, a similarly armored group following him. At the same time, a fully armed and armored squad of Republic Navy sailors marched into the city through the demolished main gate, pinning the Zrykites between two forces.
“Retreat!” called out General Ghrast in Hruduk. “Load onto the hovercraft and head for the east gate!”
The enemy army peeled off and made for the east, outrunning the Gredite and Republic forces, all of whom were on foot. They fired a hail of bullets at the gate, the hovercraft blowing the gate open and splintering it into a million pieces.
The leader of the armored Gredite warriors gave chase, running to the gate, throwing his hammer aside and deftly launching a sling stone after the retreating army. Vanbrook rushed up beside him, firing his revolver and watching an enemy drop to the ground.
There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere and Vanbrook turned to see the whole complement of Gredite warriors staring at him with burning eyes. Their leader punched him in the gut with such sudden ferocity that Vanbrook didn't manage to block or dodge in the least. He groaned and doubled over, reaching out to stabilize himself against the remains of the gate.
"You dishonor my city!" cried the warrior, removing his helmet.
Vanbrook looked up to see King Hrynkak staring down at him angrily. The other Republic troops had all paused, guns at the ready but not trained on anyone. Hrake ran up to Vanbrook and the King.
He implored his cousin the king briefly in their native tongue, then turned to Vanbrook.
"When one city attacks another and is repelled, we sling stones to route them, going no further than the city gate," said Hrake solemnly. "Once they are beyond the reach of our stones we stop, so long as they continue to flee. To continue after a stone has fallen short of the enemy is forbidden. They are allowed to retreat in peace."
Vanbrook bowed his head to the King. "I did not know, your Majesty."
The swordsman jogged out to the enemy soldier, and took the small med pack from his belt, tending to the leg wound. The crowd in the city watched him with rapt attention, the king looking on with crossed arms and a stern expression.
"Forgive an over-eager warrior, friend," said Vanbrook amiably as he wrapped the wound with an anesthetic-laced bandage. "I didn't know your customs, and it appears I've committed a great wrong against you."
"Not as much as I have wronged my city," replied the shaken warrior, looking at the broken gate and the Gredites gathered inside.
Vanbrook was surprised to hear the Hrudukite speaking Talpaertan.
"That should feel better soon," said Vanbrook. "The wound was through-and-through. Since you're not bleeding out I think you'll recover nicely. C'mon, let's get you to a proper doctor."
With that, Vanbrook helped his wounded enemy to his feet and walked him back to the gate, where he was met by the combined cheers of the gathered soldiers, though the King's expression was still grim.
Raivyn watched it all with a curious look on her face. Vanbrook had been withdrawn, even subdued, since his encounter with Darvik. But evidently his principles had not left with his bombastic temper. It looked good on him.
When the pair returned to the smashed gate, King Hrynkak spoke first to the Zrykite warrior in Hrudukite, appearing firm but not harsh.
"He says the warrior may stay until he is fully healed and then return to Zrykyk," translated Hrake. "The warrior says he wishes to stay in Gred if he may… the King will allow it."
Hrynkak turned to Vanbrook. "You have committed a great crime, Vanbrook of Talon Squad. But it was in ignorance. I forget that you may not know all our ways. Given your ignorance, and your actions to amend your wrongs, I hold nothing against you, pardoning you for any crimes committed in this instance. Praise the Progenitor that your shot did not kill."
Again Vanbrook bowed his head. "Thank you, your Majesty."
An uneasy silence settled over the crowd, and a grin grew on Hrynkak’s face as he watched his people wrestle with the desire to celebrate despite the serious moment.
"Enough of this solemnity!" declared King Hrynkak with a sudden, thunderous joviality. "Let us feast!"