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Gur Rathka helps you to your feet as the rest of his men wheel about to
come to your aid. He pulls you behind the carcass of his fallen animal,
and the two of you turn to face the oncoming fleet of Xodar; you are
stunned to see that no less than four cruisers and seven smaller flyers
have been sent to intercept the party; the Xodarians must really want you
back. "I am sorry, Your Highness," says Gur Rathka. "Your father believed that the Xodarians would refrain from pursuit if no lives were taken during your escape. He seems to have underestimated their resolve to keep you." Gur Rathka pulls a long-barreled rifle from a scabbard on his saddle, and begins to fire steadily at the approaching warships. His green warriors pull their mounts to the ground to form crude barricades, and then add their fire to his. As you stare at the heavily armed flyers you realize that you will all be blown to bits as soon as they cut loose with their heavy guns. You hear another retort, and brace yourself for the blast; to your surprise, the bow of the lead cruiser suddenly disintegrates in a violent explosion. You watch as the stricken airship veers away from the battle drunkenly, going down at the bows. There is another retort, and one of the smaller Xodarian flyers is shattered instantly. You spin around and see the source of the gunfire; a second fleet of airships has entered the battle, and is speeding toward the Xodarians with guns blazing. "The flyers of Iskandr!" shouts Gur Rathka with glee. "See, there is your father's battleship; I can make out his device upon the bow." You strain your eyes to see, but them remember that you probably wouldn't recognize it anyway. The Xodarians begin to return the fire of the Jed's ships, and a full-fledged naval engagement erupts in the sky overhead as the two fleets close upon each other. The ships of Iskandr seem to be winning the fight, but just then one of Gur Rathka's men shouts in dismay. You lower your eyes to behold the mounted troops of Xodar, sweeping toward the green warriors' exposed position. At your best estimate, the green men are outnumbered at least a hundred to one. "Ah, that is too bad," mutters Gur Rathka. "But at least it will be a good day to die!" He takes aim at the charging riders and begins to pick them off one at a time. The cause seems a hopless one; in seconds the green men will be overwhelmed, and you will be either dead or recaptured.
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10/5/2004 1:17:59 PM
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