Joseph Baxtor, Frank Ward, Albert Reeves, Sinclair Foran, and some locals poured over their maps. “We’re getting pushed back on every front,” said Captain Baxtor. “Our losses have increased dramatically since they’ve focused their attention on us here. The only good news is the Phoenix is back in port.”

“Who are those blue guys?” asked Albert Reeves. “I was lucky to survive the one we faced, they’re unreal.”

Baxtor and Radiance exchanged a look. “Those are the offspring of the Zith god Nalvol,” said Radiance.

A shocked looked passed over Reeves’ face. “I killed the son of a god? Will he come back to life? Will Nalvol curse me?”

Chuckling, Radiance said, “Offspring of gods don’t come back to life. No one worships us. I can’t speak for Nalvol, but I suspect he doesn’t know, or care, about the loss.”

“The guerilla tactics don’t seem to be working anymore,” said Frank Ward. “It’s time to start thinking outside of the box a little.”

“Is that why you asked me here?” asked Sinclair Foran.

“Yes,” said Frank Ward. “You have Norah’s infection under control?”

“Yes, I do. I wouldn’t say no to getting more medicine from the ship, however,” said the healer.

“Could you let a sample of her illness become contagious again? Something we could use to infect the Zith?” asked the second Captain.

Sinclair Foran looked horrified. “Deliberately infect them with a fatal disease? I wouldn’t be a party to any such plans.”

“Unfortunately, we’re past the luxury of such restraint,” said Joseph Baxtor. “Consider your assistance an order from me and I’ll take full responsibility for the immorality of it.”

“Well,” said Sinclair, hesitantly. “I could take a sample, culture it, and let it become infectious again. This is a very bad idea.”

* * *

Creeping along the dock, Albert Reeves and Frank Ward approached various cargo pallets and poured out the contents of a number of stoppered vials on them. Small groups of watchmen moved carelessly through the port, watching for disturbances that never occurred. Finishing their first task, Frank Ward whispered, “Now out to the Phoenix to get Foran’s medicine. We’ll go out under the dock and climb up her hull.”

Moving through the dark water, the two men wadded, then swam out to the Phoenix. Stealthily moving up the side of the ship, they surveyed the main deck and saw two sleepy sentries, watching the dock and out to sea.

Quietly moving across the deck, they slipped down the steps and headed below deck.

Moving along a passage, they heard a noise coming towards them as they reached Sinclair Foran’s cabin. Slipping inside, they made eye contact with four Zith who had set up cots in the cabin. As the four men looked at the two new arrivals in black without comprehension, the second and third captains drew daggers and set upon them.

All four were dead before they could make a sound or get out of their bunks.

* * *

“You’ll be happy to hear that the infection hasn’t taken, healer,” said Captain Baxtor to Sinclair Foran. “The Zith are sacrificing everyone, both Salrich and Zith, that show any sign of flesh-rot.”

“That doesn’t mean the infection hasn’t taken hold,” replied the healer. “If it was that easy to wipe out flesh-rot, it wouldn’t be a concern. For every person showing signs, ten others have the early stages of infection, are spreading it, and will start showing signs. Even if we liberate the Salrich from the Zith, all they’ll be left with is a flesh-rot colony.”

“That would be preferable to living under the Zith,” said Joseph Baxtor grimly. “The medicine Second Captain Ward brought back from the Phoenix is what you needed for your daughter?”

“It is, but we’re going to need vast supplies of it if disease breaks out in the camps.”

“Understood,” Baxter said.

* * *

“The Zith are coming, the Zith are coming!” screamed a young, Salrich worker as he ran through the compound. Frantically the Salrich guerillas and the Phoenix crewmembers grabbed what they could easily transport, remembering their planning and drills.

“Marines and Salrich gun soldiers, you’re all with me,” called Albert Reeves. “They’re coming from the West, so everyone take your western positions. Remember, no engagement. Take a shot when you have one and fall back immediately. We’re buying time for everyone to get away, this isn’t a stand-up fight.”

* * *

Crouched down in the forest, Third Captain Reeves watched the convoy of Zith moving directly toward the farm community the captain and healer were based in. He counted five blue-skinned Zith demi-gods with the war party of three hundred or so Zith warriors.

“Any time now,” he thought to himself, waiting for the gun soldiers closest to take their shot. A loud bang rang out as one of the men shot at the convoy. Immediately following this, other shots rang out and the forest was filled with the booms of hand cannons being fired.

The five blue-skinned Zith streaked towards the first shot, then when other shots sounded they split up. Albert Reeves put his matchcord to the touch hole of his golden hand cannon and fired into the convoy, knowing it was a waste of a shot to target the blue Zith. With inhuman speed, the blue-skinned warriors each reached a gun soldier, lifted them in the air by their throat, and shook them until their necks broke. They flung the corpses away and moved on to attack other ambushers.

The men were starting to reload, as the convoy troops poured into the surrounding forest counter-attacking the failed ambush.

“Retreat!” yelled Reeves. “Retreat!” As he stowed his gold hand cannon and began moving away from the convoy, a blue figure suddenly appeared in front of him.

Smirking with contempt at the Third Captain, she said, “So, this is the ghost that’s been causing us so many problems. I’m not impressed.”

Albert Reeves reached for his rapier and the blue woman’s hand shot out, caught his wrist, and with a quick twist broke it. The third captain gave a cry of pain.

“Uh, uh,” she said. “I’m supposed to take you in alive, but I’d be delighted to hurt you as much as you’d like before we do that.”

* * *

Radiance walked into Captain Baxtor’s new command post. It was a rough room carved from the rock in Cook and Hudson’s recently constructed underground complex.

“They didn’t even give you a door, sir,” observed the elementalist. “Rough accommodations.”

“They’re better than Third Captain Reeves’,” said the Captain. “The Zith have taken him prisoner.”

Radiance grunted an acknowledgment. “Myself and some of the Salrich have been sending out water sprites under the ocean to try to chart ship movements and positions.”

“Good idea,” said the Captain.

“I have updated info here.” He held a stack of papers. “They’ve gotten wise to what we were doing and their own elementalists are patrolling the waters more aggressively, so we won’t be able to get as detailed information in the future.”

“Understood,” said the Captain.

“They seem to have stopped moving in and out of Salrich waters, so that’s something. I don’t know if it’s the flesh-rot infection, but no new Zith ships are coming here and none of the ships here are leaving,” the elementalist continued. “We’ve found Alsos.”

Captain Baxtor gave Radiance his full attention. “Where?”

“They have a command ship that’s holding a position a couple of miles offshore from port,” said Radiance.

“Which port?” asked the Captain.

“The main port where we docked, with their citadel,” said Radiance.

“And Alsos is on their command ship?” asked the captain.

“He’s in a cage hanging underneath it, continually drowning,” said the elementalist.

* * *

Radiance, Adam Hudson, and four Salrich elementalists hung on to the skiff as their water sprites propelled them quickly underwater in a tiny air bubble maintained by Radiance.

“Remember everyone,” Radiance said. “If you sight any water sprites, take them out with one of your own sprites immediately. If one of the Zith sprites vanishes, we’ll get their attention. If a sprite returns with a description of us, we’ll have every elementalist in their attack force coming after us. Hold on tight and try to push us faster.”

“We’ll be able to rescue Alsos,” asked one of the Salrich elementalists.

“That’s why we’re all risking our lives,” said Radiance.

* * *

The Zith commander entered Albert Reeve’s prison in the citadel again. The third captain hung from a chain in the corner of the cell. Feces speckled his legs and pooled underneath him, in a puddle of urine. Both his shoulders were dislocated and he hung in agony.

“The priests keep wanting to sacrifice you,” the commander began. “Apparently your fighting spirit would make a nice snack for Nalvol. I keep telling them that you have information that’s useful to us, but really I just want you to suffer longer.”

“I’m not sure what I’m more angry at you about,” the commander continued. “This flesh-rot is some of the dirtiest fighting I’ve ever seen.” The Zith pointed at the visible disease on his face and his hand. “But killing one of Nalvol’s children hasn’t made you many friends. Apparently, his siblings are each claiming the right to light the fire at your sacrifice.”

Ripping open Reeve’s shirt, the commander ran the diseased flesh on his hand across the captive’s chest. Reeve’s moaned in agony as the contact pulled at his injured shoulders.

Drawing and holding up a thin razor, the Zith’s face contorted in rage. “Foreigners think that the Zith just mindlessly kill, like butchers. This is because that’s all they’ve seen, as they flee in terror when we conquer their cities. Privately, we can extend agony for days. Sadly, the people who have experienced this don’t tell as many tales.”