“What have you got for us Riga?”
“Nothing good I’m afraid...”
“Let’s hear it.”
Sumiye braced herself above the defunct map and ran her tongue across dry lips. The lip balm she normally kept on her person still in her locker back at Varza as she’d been far too busy collecting the briefing to swing by the locker room before departure.
“In positive news we think we’ve narrowed down the castle you’re being routed to.”
“And the negative?”
“Its layout’s a real doozy, and by that I mean the convoy is at risk of being surrounded on all fronts.”
“Go ahead.”
“If you recall, JJ Morg started constructing these castles as part of his bid to win the hand of one Lamella Faepeur. Who just so happens to hail from the City of Prauth.”
“A fun bit of trivia I suppose.”
“On the topic of trivia, would you happen to know what Prauth is best known for?”
“...”
“It’s festive traditions. The most famous being its celebration of the vernal equinox that culminates in a prolonged parade through the city.”
“Much appreciated Kircher, please continue Riga.”
“It was common knowledge how near and dear the parade was to Lamella, and in an attempt to appeal to those sympathies Morg designed an extravagant castle capable of serving as part of the parade route.”
“Part of? You mean he intended to purchase land along the route to build on?”
“Part of meaning the procession would literally pass through the castle itself as part of the route. Effectively making Lamella part of the celebration while also giving her a front row seat to the festivities.”
“A gatehouse then?”
“In practice yes. But this one would need to be far wider than customary to accommodate both the floats and performers safely. It also needed to account for the presence of visiting spectators. Namely those who didn’t have the connections to earn a spot on the allure or on any of the bartizans.”
Sumiye found herself visualizing what such a castle would have looked like the day of the parade had it been completed. A warm clear day with a gentle breeze, the clank of champagne glasses held by well-dressed socialites, the thrum of the distinguished marching band leading the procession, and the roar of anticipation coming from the crowds huddled along the inner walls below. Young children sat upon their father’s and older sibling’s shoulders while mothers distributed snacks or admired the architecture of the structure encasing them. All together a blissfully peaceful scene that would bear no resemblance to what reality had in store for them.
“We’re the procession then.”
“And Cloud Nine our eager spectators.”
It was minimal, but Jericka seemed to have perked up since the first check-in. Whatever the reason.
“How wide is this gatehouse exactly? Assuming no modifications have been made.”
“It’s wide enough that a box formation would be viable. Anything larger would require careful maneuvering. But dropping your top speed is inadvisable.”
A box formation being when Crusaders formed into rows of two, although with a three Crusader convoy only the front two Crusaders would move parallel to one another. The third centering itself between the others in the rear. Not a bad idea given the circumstances. At the very least it created a strong side and weak side, allowing the deck officers to focus their attention on the weak. The drawback to the formation being that it lowered the convoy’s top speed. Whereas the slipstream a stack formation created and took advantage of made it the fastest option and therefore the most popular choice for time sensitive runs.
“And the distance between gates?”
“275 meters...give or take.”
“!?!”
“I’m gonna have to look into this Lamella chick after we arrive. Ain’t no way she was worth building fifty of these things.”
“According to one of the interviews we conducted, this castle in particular made heavy use of large pre-existing limestone deposits. And to make matters worse they needed to leave a handful of limestone towers in the middle of the passage to maintain the formation’s structural integrity.”
Sumiye pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath to calm herself down.
“So a box formation isn’t viable then.”
“Apologies, my intent was to convey the width of the gatehouse through a metric that you could easily visualize. It wasn’t meant as a recommendation. I’ll be more mindful going forward.”
Lautnor once again chimed in to run some minor damage control.
“Don’t sweat it, we know we’re keeping you guys busy—”
“Apology accepted. Now, when can we expect to come across this structure? Because I’m of the opinion that Cloud Nine will save the gatehouse as a last resort. Especially when you consider the fact no mention of it is made in previous encounters along this route.”
“Don’t put all your eggs in one castle...as they say.”
“The ‘gatehouse’, as it will now be referred to, is located a third of the way through the current route. Just ahead of the fourth check-in. Prior to reaching it you will pass by two more castles that are equidistant apart. The first of which is derelict, to the extent it will no longer act as a serviceable launch point for approaches or volleys.”
“At this rate the LCF won’t need to do anything about the castles after all.”
“The second is sat high up on what could best be described as a limestone motte. I should mention this castle is among the smallest that we collected intel on, likely due to the labor costs of moving materials and equipment up the stone mound.”
“Still big enough to serve as an effective lookout point...”
“They’ll see us coming a mile away, and that would include whatever formation we settle on for tackling the ‘gatehouse’.”
On paper using the motte solely for surveillance made sense, but such a passive strategy strayed a tad too far from Baugh’s influence for Sumiye’s liking. A consideration that bypassed her filter and flowed in the call.
“...that’s not how I’d do it.”
Everyone in the call went silent, expecting the head CO to grace them with an explanation. This included Lautnor, who despite being in the same bridge, felt the need to turn around and make sure his colleague was still there.
“Miss Endellion?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking that an approach would be the preferable move in this case as it would limit our preparations for the ensuing castle.”
“Lock us into a formation you mean.”
“Let’s not let it slide that she finally called it a castle.”
“Don’t forget our intention to decipher their drums. That’s not something we can readily spend resources on while preparing for a gauntlet. And I doubt knowing the signals will do us much good once we’re inside the gatehouse.”
“Seems we still have much to consider...”
“Looks like we’ll just have to make the most of our time now.”
“Nice to know we can agree on something Commander.”
Lautnor promptly moved over to the controls and began to prop open speaking tubes.
“Time to update the crew, see that the other COs do the same.”
“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to learn that they get to take part in a parade...”
*
In hopes of easing his troubled mind Brewer sat off to the side and watched as Cade performed his oversight of the cargo. Specially prepared crates for preserving lab specimens he’d come to learn. It would seem his friend referring to their personal situation as dire was an understatement after all. What with the early stages of a pandemic and the subsequent quarantine no doubt exacerbating their current troubles. And coming to these realizations only made him even more restless. That nervous energy manifesting itself in restless leg syndrome.
“What’s the story Penton? Must be a good one if it ends with you boarding a Crusader as part of a Galen Run.”
Cade made the proposition without looking up from what he was doing, slight indifference in his tone. But the last thing the crew needed was the station officer’s miasma permeating the lower level.
“I actually didn’t know it was a Galen Run until the last possible moment...that’s when your friend found me.”
“What, daydream through the announcement?”
Brewer hung his head as he recalled the circumstances that led him there.
“I got tunnel vision after I overheard the destination was Mennarouple...”
Cade sealed the crate he’d been inspecting and rested a forearm on his knee, his eyes flicking over to the distressed man before he pushed off the ground.
“And what’s in Mennarouple?”
Brewer sighed as he sat back up, removing his glasses and using the uniform that hung on him loosely to clean the lenses.
“There’s this girl—”
“There often is.”
“Not like that, at least I don’t think so...our parents were business associates. Foisted us on each other so they could discuss administrative crap. We didn’t have much in common other than our age, not that you’d know it based on how mature she was. Meanwhile I was the type of kid who clung to his mother like a shadow.”
“Can’t say I relate but go on.”
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“Early last month she contacted me out of the blue, first time in years. Apparently she found out through her parents that I was working as a federation employee and looked me up in the directory. Got called over to admin towards the tail end of my shift for a phone call.”
“Filling out the paperwork that made me exempt from listing my contact information in the directory remains one of my most fruitful afternoons. Lux and Wash on the other hand, they love receiving calls from randoms and insurance companies.”
“The call began under the pretense of catching up but quickly devolved into choked sobs after I expressed interest in how she was doing. Seems both her and her daughter have been victims of domestic abuse at the hands of the child’s father going on years. And given how old-schooled her parents are, I guess she felt I was the only person she could turn to.”
“For help filing a report or confronting the guy?”
Brewer chuckled darkly and waved away the notion.
“Nothing like that, I mean I’m the guy cowering in the underbelly of a Crusader. In that respect not much has changed since we last saw each other. What she wanted was someone to talk to about it...someone she felt comfortable opening up to on the subject. Not so much to resolve but to ease some of that built-up stress. Wanted to put on a brave face for her daughter and all that.”
“...”
“She’d call on a weekly basis, always around the same time. But it got to the point where she wouldn’t even want to talk about it anymore and would instead inquire about my week. I’d try my best to distract her with stories about guys like you, field service personnel who’d traveled to and seen all sorts of things. But it made me sick to my stomach knowing what was going on behind the scenes, and with her only a convoy away...I decided I’d try betraying expectations and doing something for once.”
Cade let the man’s story sink in as he stared in the direction of the ladderway. His expression betraying little of his thoughts on the matter.
“Selfish reason to jump on a Crusader isn’t it.”
“No, it’s not for me or anyone else onboard to decide whether someone’s reason is a good or bad one. Plus, out in these parts, we take all the help we can get.”
“Your friend mentioned something about that as she was dragging me inside. Is it really so rare to have a full roster?”
The engineer pulled out what appeared to be a card with something scrawled on it and scanned it briefly before returning it to the pocket on his sleeve he’d pulled it from.
“Let me put it this way, I’ve been in the LCF for two years and can count all the times I’ve been part of a full roster with one hand. And even those few only came to pass due to financial incentives supplied by some of the Federation’s premiere business partners.”
“You’re saying they pay extra to ensure their cargo has all the necessary resources to reach its destination.”
“Correct. Because when it comes to regions outside of Upper Luridia, the only realistic way of fielding a full crew roster is through financial incentives. But even then, those incentives are reserved for those who received invites from a Convoy Commander at the behest of the client.”
“I guess my invite must of gotten lost in the mail...”
Cade smirked, more a byproduct of their gopher feeling daring enough to attempt a joke rather than the contents of the joke itself. The smirk didn’t last long however as a sound comparable to distant thunder reached the ears of both men in the cargo bay.
“Their earlier than expected...”
“Was there mention of a storm along the route?”
“Yeah, nine clouds worth.”
Brewer wasn’t quite following along but stood up all the same noting the change in Cade’s demeanor.
“I’ll be in the engine room, you stay put. Whoever comes down first will tell you what to do.”
“...Right!”
“No need to look so distressed. First visit, stack formation. It’s the guys in back who’ll be seeing the most action. Use this as an opportunity to mentally prepare for later. Trust me, you’ll need it.”
*
“The approaching force is moderate in size, strictly Volts and Hussards.”
“Do we have eyes on a drum major yet?”
“We’re on standby on that front.”
One of the disadvantages of running a stack formation was that the front two Crusaders couldn’t see what was going on in the rear. Factor in the abundance of limestone outcroppings sandwiching the route and Crusader C274 was practically isolated from the rest of the convoy.
“I recognize the current rhythm as a sped-up version of Baugh’s call to arms.”
“You’d only mention the sped-up part if you thought it was relevant to their strategy.”
“Speed us up and let’s find out.”
Lautnor lowered the mic of the headset and took up a position beside the pilot.
“Reversing lever up two, target a cutoff of around 19 percent. Any lower on this stretch of the route and we’re liable to collect a few nicks.”
“You got it.”
The CC placed a steady hand on the shoulder of his pilot.
“I’m sure I don’t need to say it but follow closely. Redcliffe knows how to pick his lines.”
The pilot nodded and settled into the sweet spot behind the lead Crusader. At the convoy’s current speed, around fifty-five meters. Meanwhile the rest of the bridge waited to see how their visitors would react.
“Reporting no immediate changes to speed, numbers or alignment.”
The rhythm being played by the talking drums had slowed and become staggered, however.
“Increase cutoff to 25 percent, and I want officers on both forward Crusaders on the platforms.”
“We’ve got eyes on a drum major; they’ve been spotted moving towards the front of the pack.”
Packs tended to be troublesome as raiders often used them as a screen to set up for a proper approach. The drum major wouldn’t have been the only one shifting around.
“Officers are in position Commander, but the party is being careful to avoid they’re line of sight.”
“Instruct C274 to drop smoke right down broadway, but no engaging. I’d like to test their mettle.”
Launtnor needed to create more scenarios that required a response from the drum major. In general he doubted this visit would lead to an actual confrontation. Better to use the encounter for furthering the deciphering process. Although if Cloud Nine truly had no intent of opening hostilities yet they could be feeding them misinformation. Or in this case using an alternate language for the talking drums. One they didn’t intend to employ during the castle visits.
“Is that wise Commander? This landscape is already putting us at a disadvantage in terms of visibility.”
“It’s because of the landscape I’m trying this. Just like us their options for evasion are limited and I’d like to see how they account for it. We also need to acclimate the crews to combat in this environment.”
Everything the Commander was saying checked out, and yet Sumiye couldn’t help but feel something wasn’t right. To top things off the voices of the talking drums weren’t resonating with her like they normally would. Seeking some assurances she stepped out of the bridge, grabbing the binoculars by the door in the process. She trained them on the back right side of the convoy and waited for the smoke from C274 to appear. Curious to see if the raiders would emerge from the billowing clouds at the risk of exposing themselves to the platforms.
Within seconds the smoke began to spew from the rear Crusader, and immediately the drumming came to a stop. The rhythm hadn’t died off awkwardly either. Every drum had stopped in unison in response to the smoke. Sumiye rushed to the other side of the deck to check the opposite side of the rear, but still nothing.
“Kircher, report. Did the approach stall?”
“I...don’t know...it’s like they just, disappeared.”
“Hold off on dropping any additional smoke, we need to figure out where they went. I don’t like this.”
“Understood Ms. Endellion.”
The CO headed back into the bridge to get the commander’s thoughts when a troubling transmission reached the main channel.
“Reporting! Party members have appeared on either side C362. We’re in the process of being flanked!”
“What...?!”
*
Youn had been one of the deck officers who’d volunteered to head down to the platforms on orders from the CC, with Lux being the other. Naturally they’d argued over who’d get stuck on the platform with a defunct tether point. And after a best of three contest of fox-ken, Youn had been granted the preferrable platform. From which he couldn’t see a single thing of interest. Though he could hear the drumming at the rear. A reminder he needed to stay on alert.
He noted that at their current speed the limestone towers comprising their surroundings seemed to blur into one big continuous wall. Almost like they were traversing one big maze. But if he squinted Youn could make out the breaks between towers, many being large enough for a bike to pass through.
He’d been so preoccupied studying the environment that it took his brain a moment to register that the drumming had stopped. Leaving only the hum of the Crusaders and the chatter of his colleagues above him. Instinctively he turned back towards the rear of the convoy in search of the reason but had to double take when his eyes caught movement just past the other side of limestone wall. In the breaks between towers. And given the fact that the LCF were the only ones with permissions to enter this region, the identity of those lurking left little room for interpretation.
“I’ve got movement on my side!”
Youn trained his rifle on the growing number of figures opposite the wall as the station worker poked his head out the doorway behind him.
“Is everything ok?”
“Nope. Faust! You seeing what I’m seeing?!”
The question had been directed at the front deck above him, where he knew the taciturn officer was posted.
“Don’t shoot until they’ve passed through.”
“Obviously!”
Before Youn could inquire about the other side of the Crusader the talking drums found their voices again, and from a much closer range than before. The men watched in shock as with each successive beat of the drums a pair of raiders appeared from the shallow openings, the closest of which raising their bucklers in preparation for immediate retaliation. Retaliation the deck officers were happy to provide.
As such the entire front end of the formation exploded into an exchange of drumbeats and rifle fire. The other side of the Crusader experiencing the same lead up to confrontation, effectively splitting the crew’s response to the threat.
“Faust go help Lux! I’ll have the gopher assist me from here!”
“Gopher?!?”
Whereas Youn had Faust assisting him from the get-go Lux’s only aide will have been the fill-in CO who was likely holding a rifle for the first time. At least the gopher was a bonafide member of the security division. Granted he hadn’t gone to the trouble of probing the man about his practical experience in subjugating threats.
“Get over here and cover for me during reload!”
The gangly officer shuffled forward as he fumbled with the safety on his rifle, bumping into the doorway and nearly Youn in rapid succession. Youn stuck an arm out to stop the man’s forward momentum, pushing him back slightly.
“Tether, you got one?”
“Yes—I mean no! I’ve been issued one, but don’t have it on me!”
“Take mine and attach it to the point behind you. I expect Wash will take some liberties to get us out of this shitshow in short order.”
With his rifle tucked underneath one arm, Brewer began hunting around his colleague’s belt for the chord in question. All the adrenaline in his system didn’t help as it took him multiple attempts to successfully unclip the tether. To say nothing of attaching it to his own belt. But once he did the rest came naturally. A result of the formalized training sessions and accuracy assessments carried out at the station at normal intervals. Not a practice unique to Station Varza either as there was a precedent for members of the security division, field service or not, to keep their marksmanship skills honed. But whether that practice would translate to real life confrontations came down to each individual's propensity to perform under pressure. Or in this case, under fire.
“Save some for the rest of us guy.”
While Brewer welcomed the roundabout encouragement, he attributed most of his current success to the fact the enemy was still organizing and had to work from an awkward angle. Riding slightly ahead of the convoy at present.
“Switch.”
Brewer released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and took a step back. From there he checked the witness hole running the length of his current magazine. He confirmed he had two shots remaining and turned his attention back to the growing force in front of them. A force that seemed content to weather the barrage coming at them from the platform. Youn, also noticing the lack of retaliation, held his fire.
To have party members disciplined enough to remain on the defensive in the face of enemy fire was commendable to say the least. Especially when it sounded like a full-on firefight had broken out on just the other side of the Crusader. To Youn this meant each group was operating under the instructions of a different drum major. How they could differentiate which beats came from which drum was beyond him though.
“Points!”
The warning had come from the speaking tube, prompting the deck officer to backpedal into the doorway. His comrade panicked slightly thinking they were falling back and made to follow but couldn’t due to the tether. Youn put a hand on his shoulder and pushed down to stop him.
“You’re fine, you’ve already connected the tether. And don’t turn your back to the enemy.”
Evidently the gopher didn’t know the call out was short for tether points. As in anyone close to a railing should attach their tethers to the nearest tether point to avoid being thrown from the Crusader. Pilots made such warnings whenever it became necessary to take evasive maneuvers or make sudden turns. On cue the Crusader lurched forward before veering to the left side of the passage. The party members reacted accordingly and split in half to avoid a collision. Only one unfortunate soul panicked at the encroaching cruiser and tried to duck back through the spaces between towers. They failed, colliding with the rock face hard enough to be un-saddled.
Youn watched unfazed as the raider fell into the path of the back wheels and was run over. Possibly by all three Crusaders given their stack formation. Brewer cringed away from the gruesome sight leaving Youn to focus on the closer of the now split group. All of which had begun to bear arms in anticipation of the signal to attack. And while he couldn’t confirm the nature of its intent, the drums did sound again from somewhere behind the convoy just as the Crusader began to veer in the opposite direction as before. Creating space between the would-be attackers.
But to his surprise that space was immediately filled by Crusader C083, the command Crusader. Effectively disrupting whatever strategy Cloud Nine had cooked up by slashing the amount of space they had to work with. To escape another collision the raiders would either have to retreat back through the gaps between towers or allow themselves to be funneled towards the rear. Where Crusader C274’s deck officers would be waiting to pick them off as they reversed.
Recognizing the shift in momentum, the drum majors were left with no choice but to sound a temporary retreat to reorganize. Cementing a many faceted victory for the LCF as the enemy had not only failed to capitalize on their flanking maneuver, but simultaneously alerted the crews to its existence. They’d similarly betrayed the drum rhythm for withdrawing, putting the CO’s that much closer to cracking the code of the talking drums. All prior to having to deal with the castles no less. This small victory would also serve as a confidence builder for each of the crews. More so for those experiencing a Galen Run for the first time.
If they really wanted to be optimistic the blown opportunity could invite further discourse among Cloud Nine’s leadership going forward. But something told Youn things wouldn’t be that easy. Field service was all about these constant fleeting shifts in momentum, and the final victory didn’t go to whoever cumulatively held it the longest. It went to whoever happened to capture it last. This battle of attrition was only getting started.