Dodge: Serial 44

Dodge: Serial 44

A Story by D.S. Baxter
"

Losha goes off on her own to face the latest Henron threat.

"

Serial 44: LONEWOLF


January 16th, 33 S.D. 08 :05 Northern Sventa, Central Plains


    Across the whitened prairie, a single equestrian raced against the horizon. Tearing over the land, both rider and horse traveled with a rapid, almost frightening speed. Charging ahead at 80 kilometers an hour, Losha and Izel pressed on intently. Ever leaning into the wind, she locked her eyes upon their path. Together, they breathed heavily as they quickly moved through open snow. Underfoot, a blue glow surrounded Izel’s hooves as Losha serialized a continuous stream of speed-steps. Propelled by such extraordinary forces, they surged at a rate far faster than normally possible. Even with serialization, such a feat was no small achievement. Losha expended great amounts of seras for her effort, and Izel essentially ran to his fullest. It was an exercise of pure endurance.

    Clipping along, Losha’s hands gripped the reins tightly all of a sudden. A slight frown crept over her face as her gaze narrowed. If only she could have gone even faster! The distance, in her mind, seemingly never grew any shorter, and quite uncharacteristically of herself, she felt impatience growing within. There was nothing she could do, however, except continue as hastily as possible...



    At that same time, back in Sevia, several representatives of Sventa’s Tabran were holding a meeting of their own. Though the Tabran was not in session just yet, this small group convened anyway. In all likelihood, the upcoming session would carry on for several days, and still there would be matters left to discuss. For them, it only made sense to get a handle - at least amongst themselves - on some key issues now before any official talk began. With the current situation, they saw no reason to delay themselves while the other Toroms were busy sending people to Sevia.

    Even without an active assembly of the Tabran, the representatives were free to conduct business in the Vental all the same. In a private room, five members or different Toroms began seating themselves at a table; already they were locked in a fervent exchange.

    “What the hell is going on?” an older mustached gentleman asked aloud as he entered; he was the last of the party to arrive. He marched straight to his seat with deliberate motions. “When was the last time any enemy breached within 5 kilometers of our land?” The question was actually rhetorical, for with a decisive pound of his fist, he readily answered it himself. “Not in 100 years - 112 to be exact - have we been so boldly challenged like this! And now within the same month Henron has wormed their way to the Talimer Forest and the Ganglan Pass! My fellows, this brings a whole new dimension to our war.”

    A younger man shook his head as he made notes. “As impassioned as ever, I see. That is good, Seltsa, for we need all the patriotism we can muster. But what we also need is an accurate appraisal of our current status. Kana, care to share the latest reports?”

    Kana Delte Sventa, niece to Boz Delte, stood up as she grabbed a few sheets of paper. She passed a pile around. The Delte’s were extensively involved with military affairs, second only to the Holvate. As such, Kana was kept abreast of the many happenings on the war’s front.

    “It is just as bad as we initially feared. Two towns have been completely razed: Valia and Totul. A third was laid siege to, but its condition remains unknown.”

    Another woman looked down at the papers before her. As she drew a Gandian cigarette away from her mouth, she blew smoke into the air. “And what of our clan, our people?” she asked, tapping the sheets in front of her.

    “Unknown,” Kana repeated. “The army has not been able to dispatch to that area just yet.”

    “What do you mean not just yet?” a bearded representative asked. “What is holding up the First Division? Have they not deployed already in light of all of this?”

    “The issue is Henron themselves,” Kana responded. “Our first priority is to stem the flow of the enemy at the Ganglan Pass. It will take some time to even reach that far up north as well. Once they drive the enemy back, we can then focus on securing our established settlements. However, reclaiming those three towns will not give us a tactical advantage in this struggle; it will not stop Henron from charging into more just like them.”

    “My question is,” began the young man, “how did Henron exactly make it into Sventa?” He turned the paper in his hand over, examining the details on the other side. “The Ganglan Pass should be narrow and snowy this time of the year, absolutely treacherous for any significant number of troops to make their way through.”

    “We believe they have been staging their fighters there for some days now,” Kana explained. “Rather than force their way all at once, Henron has slowly been creeping into our lands.”

    “Hold on a moment,” Seltsa growled as he clenched his fist slightly above the table. He glared fiercely, but not particularly at any present company. “You mean to tell me that their incursion into the Talimer Forest was nothing more than a diversion?”

    Kana placed a handful of sheets on the table as she folded her arms behind her back. “It certainly seems so. With all eyes pointed south, we ultimately failed to cover the Ganglan Pass. Perhaps we were too complicit in assuming they would never use that route. We are not exactly blessed to have the largest borders of any major clan either; there is a lot of land to keep watch over.”

    “What about their size?” Selta continued. “Have we any accounts or estimates in that regard?”

    “We do,” Kana nodded. “Only a few scouts have been able to safely investigate their invasion force, but we have some inclination as to their numbers. Apparently, they have combined their two freshest orders, the last two that have yet to see any combat.”

    The smoking woman suddenly coughed loudly. “Two orders? Are they mad?” she gagged, upturning her mouth in an expression of disbelief. “They have always launched one order to one of our divisions. Even though our divisions are always larger, the body count is generally only off by some few thousands, but two orders? We would need to mobilize the First and Third Divisions just to fight evenly on our own territory.”

    “We would never be able to intercept them before it is too late,” said the bearded one. “They must have spent the previous whole week getting into position. For us to do the same in so little time... They will have overrun us all by then.”

    “What about the Wolf?” Seltsa inquired. “Where is she in all of this?”

    “Naturally, we dispatched her and her team immediately to the Talimer Forest,” Kana said. “We thought that was the Henron invasion. We were wrong.”

    Seltsa sighed as he rubbed a hand over his brow. “And now she is one of the furthest away...”

    “How soon can we move her?” the lad with the written notes asked. He put away his pad as he placed the pencil inside his jacket. Looking up at Kana, he weaved his fingers together. “Let us be frank. Losha Holvate Sventa has become the single greatest strength of our army. She has also become something of our single point of failure. We may have come to rely on her too greatly. If we had established better security up north from the start, instead of figuring we could simply order her wherever battles occurred, this predicament would be nothing to us now.”

    He touched the rim of his glasses gently. “Even having said that, she is still one of the few factors that would ensure we make it out of this alright. How quickly can she be expedited to the First Division?”

    “About that,” Kana said, briefly glancing down. “We do not know the precise whereabouts of Ver Holvate.” A breathless pause ensued as all eyes shifted to her.

    “Explain this issue for us, please,” the bearded representative demanded. “I thought the operation in the Talimer Forest was a success. Do you mean to tell me she...”

    “You can allay your fears,” Kana said, raising her hand as if to ease back his apprehensions. “Losha is well, at least the last time she reported in. Allow me to expound on the most recent of events. To my knowledge, Losha received word of the Henron assaults shortly after the initial information reached all three divisions yesterday. The following day, near midnight, she simply left, alone.”

    “Under orders?” Seltsa asked, wrinkling his brow.

    “No. She apparently left without receiving any commands; I was personally assured of this by her commanding officer.”

    “Did she go on her own? To fight Henron?” the smoker asked, mashing the dying end of her cigarette into an ashtray.

    “That is highly likely. Those that saw Losha said her general direction was northbound,” Kana replied.

    “Good, so it seems she intends to join the First Division after all,” the note-taker said, leaning back. Kana, however, shook her head.

    “I would not be so sure about that...”

    “Hmm...” said the others, almost collectively.

    “She may have bypassed the First Division already. Early this morning, around 4 ‘o’ clock, they saw... something traveling across the prairie, something blue and something very fast. Whatever it was went straight for Leitis. I can only assume it was her.”

    “Well... what?” Seltsa frowned. “How can that be? From the Talimer Forest to Leitis and the Ganglan Pass... That is easily a three day journey in this weather. How could she possibly make it in a single day?!”

    “You and I are both keenly aware that what we know of her powers is still limited. To what extent she can push herself is not something we can yet judge,” Kana said.

    “Even so,” Seltsa said. “She goes to the very heart of the enemy. Do you really think one, solitary individual can stand against half the entirety of our foes?”

    “If you will recall, the Battle of Lake Lada was largely her own doing. She has proven herself before. She would not recklessly head to the Ganglan Pass if she were not sure she could engage them effectively. I doubt she has anything suicidal on her mind. In any case, all we can do is try to catch up with her. Until then, we will have to believe in her abilities.”

   

    Eventually, Losha and Izel dashed up a hillside. Over its slope they drove, fast approaching its crest. With a sudden jerk of the reins, Losha commanded her steed to halt. The speed-step series shorted out, evaporating in a flash as Izel’s hooves dug into the ground. For several meters after they braked, they left a trail where they slid, cutting the snow with fine lines. Just as they reached the very height of this incline, they came to a complete stop. For a moment, they simply stayed there. Panting, they merely stared ahead as their breaths dissolved before them. It had been a long journey, but somehow their resolve had pushed them to their destination at last.

    Slowly, Losha dismounted. Upon setting foot in the snow, she felt a great stiffness in her legs. The hours of riding had taken their toll, but the discomfort would scarcely last long. She had a mission to see through, regardless. Walking further on, she looked over the rim of the hill. Below on the other side, a town sat, the Sventa municipality known as Leitis. It hadn’t been hard to find. All she had to do was follow the smoke. That said nothing of the hundreds of seras frequencies she registered.

    With a wave of her hand, Losha cast a kinetic series that grabbed a pair of binoculars from the supply sack attached to Izel. She caught the item without so much as turning around as it swiftly flew straight at her. In an instant, she dropped to one knee as she brought the device to her face. Her third-eye series couldn’t see that far, and she needed to conserve her remaining seras. Carefully adjusting the lenses, panning from the west, Losha began to examine the sort of state the town had fallen into.

    Many buildings appeared to have some structural damage, ranging from simple dents, moderately sized missing chunks, to caved-in roofs and completely decimated facades. In various heaps, what she guessed were debris and trash sat randomly in the streets, on corners, between houses, silently burning. Groups of Henron soldiers waltzed to and fro, roaming about as if in search. As she trained the binoculars on one lot, Losha witnessed them rip down a door as others of their squad exited an adjacent building with numerous items in tow. Having secured Leitis for themselves, evidently the Henron had taken to stripping its stores.

    One disconcerting observation she made was that nary a civilian was in sight. Where had the people gone to? She only calculated 482 distinct seras frequencies in a 15 kilometer radius; all of them belonged to her foes, judging by the looks of their presence. Some of the townsfolk were technically accounted for, at least their bodies were, but the small amounts scattered randomly here and there provided no clues as to what became of the rest. Had they all run from the Henron before Leitis was stormed, or had something more unfortunate occurred? Whatever the case, she wouldn’t gain answers here. She’d seen enough; it was time to act.

    Standing up, Losha turned around and walked over to Izel. “Stay here,” she said as she stuffed the binoculars back into his bag. “I will only be gone shortly. It is only a little less than 500 of them. I shall clear them out then come back for you.” Though she’d never intended to establish such a habit, Losha nevertheless talked to Izel as if he were another person. It didn’t help that the horse always behaved as if he really did understand her. He gave a short grunt followed by a huff, perhaps a sign of affirmation? She was certain she could leave Izel behind without worry, however. His natural color made him blend in well with the environment, and she didn’t think he’d wander off. There was a slight chance that he might come after her, but her mind dismissed it altogether.

    Quickly, Losha knelt down and scooped up bits of snow. She spread it all around her body, using a kinetic series to ensure it remained stuck to her at all times. It was a small measure of camouflage, yet it aided her all the same. She did not aim to enter Leitis blatantly even though she could have easily confronted the soldiers directly. She didn’t want them to see this coming though. Once her make-up looked suitable, Losha stood up and looked down the hill once more. The land actually dipped shortly before rising up and evening out beneath the town, therefore a sort of ditch ran along the south side, a perfect cover for her infiltration. Izel let out a slight neigh.

    “Sa,” Losha said. “Here we go.”



    In Leitis, the Henron were busy looting the remnants of their conquest. Since they had effectively taken control of the place, and with no Sventa in sight, they helped themselves very liberally to whatever resources they could find. These raids were actually par for the course in the Central Plains, a common occurrence of almost any conflict. As the commanding officers termed it, they were merely “resupplying” themselves. Their subordinates took this tongue-in-cheek phrasing a bit gleefully if anything. At that moment, two soldiers began smashing down the front door of a residence. The ruckus drew the attention of their nearby Field Lead. He turned around and bellowed at them.

    “Hey! What are you all doing?” he asked, walking towards them.

    “All the stores have been picked clean,” one explained. “We figured there still has to be some valuables in all of these houses.”

    “That is not what I meant,” the Field Lead growled. “Take a sub-squad in there. Mansa! Gelet! Get over here!”

    “Why do we need to do that?” the other soldier asked as he threw his body against the wood, rattling the frame.

    “Sa, Mansa will just take anything that is worth anything for himself. As long as that guy has pockets, he is a pig.”

    “Take a sub-squad,” the Field Lead repeated him emphasis. “Some of the town guard might be lying low. If they cornered two of you alone, they will not hesitate to kill you.”

    “Sa... right.”

    “Well, in that case,” said one of the soldiers, taking his sword and hacking the door. “Mansa can come, as long as he meets all the resistance.”

    As the other two arrived, the door collapsed with a heavy crash. The four of them peered into the home, cautiously glancing about for no more than a heartbeat. Marching in, confident of their dominance, they entered noisily. They didn’t even bother to clear the rooms or keep their arms at ready. In their minds, their Field Lead had merely been prattling on about improbabilities. Leitis had since been deserted; every one of them knew it as well as any of them could see it. Dispersing themselves, they began to plunder as they pleased, taking hold on any fancy that fell before their eyes. They roughly rummaged through draws, shelves, and cabinets, breaking and littering as they went.

    “I found some top cigars, but what I was hoping for was a real nice watch, something Gandian perhaps. No, in fact, I just want a fine piece of metal-work, really. Sa, it does not have to be a watch at all, maybe a good sword...”

    “This is a town; towns have mayors and rich folk. All we have to do is hit upon the right house.”

    “There is good thinking! Easy enough too. We all done here?”

    “Sa. Come on. We shall go to bigger bounties. I fear we need some bags for that though...”

    The four shuffled out with various articles in hand, none of which truly theirs. Nevertheless, the one thing they didn’t come out with was a sense of regret. As Mansa and Gelet went off to find some bags for their next treasure hunt, the other two began smoking near the street. Behind them, a half-dozen people were splayed against the curb, the fallen remains of some of Leitis’ natives.

    “Where does he get off, telling us to go in as a sub-squad? There is not a single Sventa in kilometers. We are in danger of nothing.”

    “Save for small pockets.”

    They laughed and finished their cigarettes. With a careless flick of the wrist, they threw these embered ends at the bodies to their rear as their comrades called out to them. They soon left the scene. Had they stayed a while longer, however, they may have seen that one of the corpses was not quite as dead as the others. All at once, a frozen hand reached out and wrapped around the butts. Suffocated in this grip, they extinguished. The hand curled tightly for an instant then flexed open, dropping the waste to the floor.

    Slowly propping herself up sideways, as if from slumber, Losha dragged herself away from snow and death alike. Gingerly, she pushed aside one unfortunate soul as she stood. She looked on ahead for only a moment before moving. In a brilliant flash, her servai activated, tethering itself to her hold. With this tool in hand, she stepped forward, stalking, a lone wolf on the hunt.

© 2014 D.S. Baxter


Author's Note

D.S. Baxter
In the reaches of Aste, deep within the grasslands of the Central Plains, 14 warring clans mount constant warfare against one another. Through endless bloodshed, the people are forever rooted in a cycle of conflict. Returning to the place she once called home, Losha leaves Palostrol to go back to her family. Yet in their embrace she finds a world teetering on the brink of devestation. As King's words echo through her mind, she must decide if serialization holds the answers to peace. But are the consequences of failure are worth it? The path of the Continent's greatest struggle has only just begun. The Age of Serialization starts now.

The next installment comes November 12th, 2014. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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* This serial's title is done in the style of how Gandian and Astens name their units and operations (8 capitalized letters) and it reflects the theme of this serial quite accurately

* Remember the Vental? This is the place where meetings of the Tabran happen. They're supposed to only happen twice a year, but due to the war, they've been happening as needed. Torom representatives have had to travel to Sevia frequently as a result.

* Keep in mind, Sventa is a big slice of territory, large enough to be its own country. Seltsa is not incorrect in his reaction to Losha's quick travel. Losha and Izel aren't traveling constantly at 80 KPh, but that is their noted top speed. There are other logistics to consider, such as the fact that Losha herself can't serialize that much that long constantly and Izel can't physically exert himself for 8 hours or so. Obviously they made some stops along the way (they're both living creatures, and nature calls...)

* Losha is actually really good at sneaking around places. She just kinda turned out like that. It's not a skill I initially planned for her to have, but it happened anyway. Takes guts to "play dead" like that :p

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Any feedback is welcome. Just writing because I like it. Always wanted to make a weekly series, so I'm doing it.

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Added on November 6, 2014
Last Updated on November 6, 2014