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Two weeks later Dane’s unit was nearly ready for the games.
Dane watched from the ground as the last squad took their turns at the end of the afternoon jump session. Most of the men made their jumps smoothly, without even a hint of hesitation. The Sanctuary troops had obviously made a number of jumps before. The lone holdout was a Quantar man, Myrick. Dane had demoted him from Corporal on account of problems with his jumps. Brake had taken over his unit and served double duty as Dane’s Lieutenant. Myrick stood at the top of the tower, hesitating. Dane saw him look down in his direction, then jump.
His technique was awful. He panicked almost instantly and began flapping his arms wildly. This only served to pull him further off course. Dane could see he was in real danger of missing the pad. Even with the pony chute open he still carried enough velocity to be killed.
“Shit!” Dane muttered, then broke into a dead run for the pad. A phalanx of soldiers who had been shouting encouragement to Myrick came with him. Myrick landed awkwardly near the edge of the pad. It broke his fall some but he slid off and fell hard to the ground. The men all gathered around, expecting the worst.
Myrick lay on his side gasping for air.
“Give him room, men,” yelled Dane, then backed them off with outstretched arms. Within a few seconds it was apparent Myrick had the wind knocked out of him, but nothing more serious.
“I’m sorry, Sire,” he said from a prone position.
“You gave us all a scare, Mr. Myrick. But I’m glad to see I won’t have to replace you. All right, let’s call it a day,” he said to the crowd. The men all cheered. “Tomorrow I want you all to rest and pack your chutes carefully, both of them.”
“Sire, if you don’t mind my asking,” it was Myrick, now on his feet. “Why have we spent all this time practicing with the pony chutes? We get full chutes for the drop.”
“As a matter of fact, I do mind you asking, mister Myrick. But I tell you what, I promise you’ll hear all about it at a briefing dinner tomorrow night at 1800. In the meantime,” he raised his voice at this, “I want you all to go have a good meal, and sleep in tomorrow. We rise at 0400 the next day and hit the air at 0530. Dismissed.” The men all gave a good natured war whoop and then broke ranks, heading for their rooms in the training house.
***
DINNER WAS EXCELLENT, the chefs Rijkard had provided were as good as any on Quantar. When the meal had been cleared, Dane ordered the doors to the dining hall shut. Brake, Layton, and the other four Quantar officers were now isolated from the rest of the squads in the mess hall. Dane stoked the fire up himself and then nodded to Brake, who retrieved a set of large scale magnetic charts from a small room at the back of the hall. Once the charts were in place Dane addressed the men.
“Gentlemen. You will notice from this chart that we have drawn the worst position of any squad in the competition. We are here,” he pointed, “Shown in red. Our adversaries are in blue,” he briefly noted the positions of the other six squads. “You will note that General Tannace has drawn a favorable position, near the footlands of the main valley and close to the river. By marching a full ten hours on the first day he should reach the pass first or second. Colonel Noiman’s squad has drawn the best position,” he moved the pointer to show her squad on the map.
“We are up on this peak to the north, more than twelve hundred meters up. Normally we would have to make our way down the hillside, consuming at least a few hours, then fight our way through several other well-trained squads to reach the pass. No squad who has drawn our position has ever made it to the pass before sundown, when the competition rules state we must stop and make camp for the night. It is, in fact, a virtual certainty that we will not make the pass by nightfall, having only ten hours of daylight to make it. Therefore if we follow the conventional wisdom, we have no chance to win.”
“But I say we do not follow the conventional wisdom. Colonel Noiman and General Tannace will no doubt be engaged by several squads commanded by junior officers trying to make an impression. This will slow them down, deplete their numbers some, but in the end they both will still end up in either first or second position by nightfall. The next morning at sunup when the competition begins anew they will no doubt skirmish for control of the pass before sending their runners through to try and reach the goal,” he moved the pointer to an orange dot on the far side of the pass. “Where one or the other of them will claim the prize and win the competition.”
“But it is my intent to win this competition. How? You’re no doubt asking yourselves. This way,” Brake peeled the chart over to reveal the second page, more detailed than the first and showing a closer view of their drop point. “We will be dropped here, on the north peak of Mt. Si, at approximately 0600,” Dane pointed to a red dot on top of the mountain. “We will have one hour before daybreak in which to assemble our gear and begin marching. It must appear to our opponents that we are following the conventional wisdom and heading down the hillside. I have therefore decided that mister Myrick will lead squad four down the hillside and into the valley. Your orders are to appear as if you are our full unit of fifty men,” Dane paused. Myrick looked uncomfortable for a moment, then:
“How, Sire?” he said. Dane peeled to a third chart.
“This fold in the rock face. When you pass through it you go out of view of the field glasses of anyone in the valley. Your orders are to scramble back up the rock face using this stream bed, out of view of the valley below, and then come down the trail again. Five times, at fifteen minute intervals, to make it appear that our whole unit is coming down out of the hills. I want you to break up your file as well, pass the Corporals’ armband around each time. Swap your side arms. Make it appear that you’re a different group of men each time. Understood, Mr. Myrick?”
“Yes, Sire!” came the enthusiastic response.
“Once you’ve completed your task your orders are to make it as far into the valley as possible. Avoid any units you encounter except for General Tannace. I want you to dog his men at every turn, raise havoc. Slow them down as much as you can until you’ve all been registered as dead. I don’t want any of you taken prisoner.”
“I’m glad this is only a war game!” said Myrick. The others all laughed, even Dane.
“Meanwhile, the rest of the squad will travel south until we reach the south peak, here. It should take us no more than five hours.”
“Then what?” This time it was Layton.
“Then we make camp, raise our banner, take our afternoon meal, send spies to observe our adversaries in the valley below, and sleep.”
“Sleep?”
“Yes, mister Layton, sleep. We’re going to have a long night.”
“Night marching isn’t allowed,” said Layton flatly.
“I am aware of the competition rules Mr. Layton. As you have observed night marching is not allowed. However, there have been numerous historical cases of squads fighting skirmishes at night when they were camped next to each other. These were allowed. So fighting at night is accepted. That’s why sentries are posted. But in this case,” Dane brought back to the first chart, “I don’t believe from the positioning of the squads that there is much chance of night skirmishes this year. So, we will find another way. If you will note,” now back to the second chart, “We will be positioned almost directly over Colonel Noiman’s expected position. It will be dark at 1730. By 2130 most of her unit should be asleep. At 2200 we will make our assault.”
“Assault? How?” said Layton.
“With the pony chutes. We’ve been training with them for two weeks. Our men are skilled. The valley is low and flat, no jagged outcropping’s of rock. The weather report is for clear skies and a three quarter moon, plenty of light to see where we’re going,” Now he went to a fourth chart. “And this face of the mountain is perfect for making the jump. We’ll land just outside the camp, wait fifteen minutes, then move in. No kills. I want all of Colonel Noiman’s unit captured and held in quarters overnight. Brake and I will handle the assault on the Colonel’s tent. I intend to capture her as well. Remember, we’ll want things to appear as normal as possible within her camp to any outsiders, especially General Tannace. Any questions?”
For a long moment no one said anything. Then Layton stood.
“Just one, Sire. A twelve hundred meter drop with a pony chute is a tricky descent, even in daylight let alone at night.”
“I know. That’s why every man will have a personal thrust pack to slow his drop.”
“We’ve no training with them, Sire.”
“Brake and I will train you, then we will demonstrate their use. It is my intent to be in Colonel Noiman’s camp when your assault begins.”
“But you’ll be risking your life, Sire.”
“Layton, if we don’t win this competition my life may not mean anything. I choose the risk. He looked around the room at his six charges, testing their mettle with his even gaze. “Are all of you with me?” he said louder.
Then Layton raised his wineglass to Dane.
“I am with you Sire!” he said loudly. The others all stood and raised their glasses as well.
“We all are!” said Myrick. Dane lifted his glass in return.
“Then let’s drink, to Quantar!”
“Huzzah!” shouted Layton. The others all followed his lead. “Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!”
Then the men all emptied their glasses, and smashed them against the stonework fireplace.