by Ava D. Dohn
*
Fires burned bright late into the night. There was a continual rush of officers and aides coming and going as messages were sent and orders and requests were received. The first attack waves had long ago headed for their landing craft before the last of the meetings ended. Sometime during the night, Tizrela parted company with the others to join the leading elements of the invasion. Trisha accompanied her to the shuttle.
The field marshal patted her former staff officer on the shoulder. “I trust to your decision making and to your success. Chasileah and Jonathan have proved themselves stalwart officers. Neither will fail you.”
Tizrela thanked her commander. “You have been most generous with me, giving me your personal flagship and its accompanying task force. It’s a shame you put it at such great risk.”
Trisha frowned. “I have put you at great risk, my friend, for it is I who recommended you lead this diversion. Now listen, please. Don’t place yourself needlessly in harm’s way. My ships can be replaced, but the souls aboard are unique and precious.” She grinned. “Legion is sure to know that the Starlight is the field marshal’s flagship and that the frigate, IronStone, protects the cutter from harm. When he sees them over Memphis, he will more than likely be convinced the main invasion is there.”
At that moment, Chasileah and Jonathan hurried into the shuttle bay. Somewhat out of breath, they apologized for being late. Tizrela stopped them up short. She gave each a folded paper sealed with signature wax. “Here are your new orders. Wait until you’re aboard the Starlight before opening them.”
Tizrela reached out and embraced Chasileah, kissing her tenderly on the lips. She clasped the woman’s upper arms, smiling. “I can think of no officer better qualified to support me at this time. Your services will be invaluable.”
After another embrace, Chasileah softly replied, “Your servant girl is little deserving of the honor you’ve placed on her. May she have the strength to act in wisdom when the hour of test comes upon her.”
Tizrela laughed aloud. “We will talk more of this after you’ve read your orders. You may wish to rethink your thanks at that time.” She motioned them to board the shuttle.
A puzzled look crossed Chasileah’s face, but she asked no questions. Nodding acknowledgement of the command she, taking hold of Jonathan’s arm and leading the way, entered the sculler craft.
The field marshal stepped up to Tizrela, also giving her the customary warm embrace and kiss of departing companions. She looked into her lieutenant’s face and chokingly whispered, “Your people speak of one day never having to part the fields of the Crescent Moon. My people used to have a saying, too. ‘May the day soon come when your camel no longer journeys beyond my tent’…” She fought back a tear. “God’s speed...”
Tizrela offered a friendly salute, thanked Trisha for her kind words, and turned for the shuttle. The seal door in the shuttle chamber snapped closed with a hiss! and a clunk! Trisha found it difficult to leave and lingered outside the doors for some time before returning to her other officers.
