“The galleon is going down,” Lort informed them.
“We have touchdown!” Omin yelled a split-second before the ship’s keel sliced into the water. Water roiled across the bubble as the battleship hit the harbor nose-first, then bounced upward to settle on the surface.
“Where’s the Tra’Mell?” Fallmin called out.
“Right behind us!” Lort informed them, looking up from the radar. “Less than two hundred vares off our port stern.”
“Head for the nearest wharf! We’re moving this battle on land! Kerso! Order the crew to weapon up and disembark the moment we’re moored!”
“Gur! We have more ships approaching!”
“Identify!”
“Unable to tell at this point.”
“How far are we from Montismet?”
“Just over three hundred huares.”
“Send a message to the Esstika! Apprise her of our current status! Request land troops and rescue ships!” Fallmin ordered.
Torfen secured the wheel. “We’re docked!” He started to throw off his harness when Fallmin stopped him. Surveying the bridge, the Gur addressed his crew.
“You men stay here and guard this ship. If the enemy tries to board her, head out to sea immediately.”
“What if you return when we’re not here?” Omin asked.
Fallmin smiled. “Then I guess I’ll have to wait until you come back. Good luck.”
Lhora was out of her harness before her father. Jumping onto the bridge, she dashed for the ladder. She encountered several of theVolo’screw on the next level donning their battle plates as they waited for the hatch to open.
A hand held out a metal arm guard to her. Grabbing it, she slipped it on. “Thanks.”
“We heard we’re moving inland. What’s the plan, Esstiss?” Obrod asked, fingering his sword. She gave her crewman a warm smile.
“Simple. We teach those plugging Tra’Mell that we’re not as weak or defenseless as the Coltrosstians want them to think we are.”
“You mean the Tra’Mell are out there firing on us?” another crewman she didn’t recognize questioned her.
“The Coltrosstian Sarpi has somehow convinced them to join his team. We don’t know how or why, but we need to show these creatures they’ve seriously underestimated us,” Lhora explained, placing her hand on her hilt. Several of the crewmembers understood and nodded, but there were a few who still seemed confused. That was all right. They’d find out soon enough.
The ship jolted slightly as it settled, and the light above the hatch turned green. Obrod grabbed the lever with both hands and shoved down. The door hissed, opened, and began extending the gangway. A hard breeze entered the deck, bringing with it the scent of salt water and something…rancid.
“I smell Tra’Mell,” Jirgin muttered, drawing his sword.
Lhora nodded as her father came up at the rear. “Eyes and ears, men!” the Gur shouted.
Jirgin charged out first with Lhora right behind him, including a dozen more armed crewmembers. They raced across the landing field, not stopping until everyone was clear of the ship.
A shout went up. “There they are!”
Pivoting around, Lhora spotted the Tra’Mellian battlecruiser lying in the distance. Judging by the way it sat in the water, she could tell the vessel wasn’t going anywhere. Not without major repairs.
“They look really, really crobbed,” a voice muttered behind her.
She jerked her attention to where the others were staring. There had to be at least twenty of the large creatures lumbering toward them. Judging by their posture, whoever had said it was right. Those Tra’Mellians definitely looked crobbed.
“Hold steady, men,” Fallmin instructed in a calm voice. “Look to the north.”
