“Oh, well.” Talbot shrugged. “I never liked that headquarters anyway.”
There was a moment’s pause and then Asfaw started laughing so hard he slipped back into the water and the delphino let out a high squeal of amusement.
“But there are things we need to do,” Edmund continued when the two got their mirth under control. “I’ve got good news and bad news, and it’s both the same news.”
“What’s that, sir?” the mer asked.
“I’ve just assumed command,” Edmund replied, handing him the sheet of paper. “Send that out. Tell everyone to rebroadcast it.”
“Willll!” the delphino trilled.
“Wait,” Edmund said. “There’s more. All remaining ships, retreat towards coast, assemble when possible near the Granbas area where Merillo is.”
“Storm come!”
“Where then?” Edmund asked.
“Soooouth!” the delphino squealed. “Bamud!”
“Okay, I stand corrected,” Edmund replied. “To all the ships with wyvern; feed them meat from normal stocks. Do not attempt transfer at this time unless senior dragon-riders concur. Understood?”
“’Stood!” the delphino squealed.
“All whalos run silent until mer and delphinos are on station. Any that are under attack, move to the nearest fleet. Fleets are to use wyvern to attack the orcas.”
“Orca meat!” the delphino squealed happily. “Taste sweet!”
“To Merillo and the group assisting him; draw the orcas to the nearest wyvern armed fleet units.”
“’Stood!”
“Last order,” Edmund said. “To all carriers: Forage wyverns when possible. Tell the mer to meet with the senior dragon-riders and amplify. They all know the story.”
“Will!” the delphino squealed.
“Okay, we’re done for now. I’m appointed command, Admiral Draskovich relieved. Retreat towards Bamud. Feed the dragons, on orca and ixchitl if possible. Protect the whales. That’s all I can expect them to handle right now.”
“Done!” the delphino said and dove under the water.
Edmund leaned back in the chair, planted his feet and tipped it back to look at the stars. He looked over at Herzer and had to chuckle; the captain had a pad of paper out and was clearly taking notes of the orders.
“They’re really big on written orders, sir,” Herzer said.
“That they are,” Edmund replied, looking up at the stars.
“Ge… Admiral,” General Kabadda called from up on the pier. “We’ve pulled everyone but a fire-watch back from the headquarters. I’m shifting it to the officers’ club.”
“Nah,” Edmund said. “Shift it down here.”
“Here, sir?”
“Yep. Where are your communications?”
“Here, sir,” Kabadda admitted. “But…”
“Got any mer sitting around the O-club for advice?”
“Advice, sir?”
“Yes, Kabadda, advice,” Edmund replied, tiredly. “Look, work with me here, do a bit of thinking. Have you ever flown a dragon?”
“I’ve flown on one, sir…”
“Yeah, so have I,” Edmund snorted. “In that so-called briefing you thought was so great, the most experienced dragon-rider, dragon wrangler for that matter, was Herzer, who kept his mouth shut the whole time. The most experienced person at coordinating mer and delphino forces in the attack was me. When we rebuild a headquarters, and I’ll admit we’re going to have to, the meeting area and war-room will be suspended over the water, like a boathouse, and it will have a way for great dragons to participate, if by no other means than sticking their heads through the window. Clear?”
“Clear, sir,” the general said in a stricken voice.
“Joanna.”
“Dude,” Joanna said.
“We’re back playing soldiers, now, Joanna,” Edmund said.
“Yes, sir,” the dragon said with amusement in her voice.
“Forget the failure to provide adequate support,” Edmund said. “I’m sure there are some nice juicy bullocks around and if not I understand most of the horses in the stables are ready for the glue factory. What’s your back pay?”
“Eight hundred chits,” Joanna snarled, angrily. “And by contract I can request that it be in specie. I’m so requesting.”
Edmund sighed at the tone but kept looking up.
“Pay her, Kabadda,” he said.
“But, sir…”
“I said pay her,” Edmund snarled. “Joanna, silver do?”
“Sure.”
“Kabadda, get a working party started on ripping the fixtures out of the VIP quarters bathroom. Ditto anywhere else that they used silver for fixtures. If it comes down to it, get all the silver table settings in the dining room. And then find someone who’ll give us a pence on the chit in silver or gold for the damned bathtub.”
“Yes, sir,” the chief of staff said in a voice that mingled resignation and anger.
“We’re a military force, not a bunch of Persian potentates,” Edmund amplified. “Joanna, you’re gonna get paid. Question: How far can you fly?”
“Pretty far,” the dragon said, warily.
“All the way to Blackbeard Base?”
“I don’t know,” the dragon said, honestly. “I wouldn’t want to try it.”
“You’re gonna have to,” Edmund said. “Asfaw, another order.”
“Yes, sir,” the mer said.
“Effective immediately, Brigadier Shar Chang brevet promoted Lieutenant General. Will proceed via… what’s the name of that carrier down there?”
“Hazhir, sir,” Herzer said.
“Proceed immediately to Newfell Base via carrier Hazhir. Carrier will leave all but one wyvern. Expect contact en route by greater dragon. Make all sail. Anybody know where Evan is?”
“Who?” Kabadda asked, clearly lost.
“Blackbeard,” Herzer said.
“You’re sure?” Edmund asked.
“I took the trouble to find out.”
“Bring civilian engineer Evan Mayerle. Joanna, you’re going to head for Blackbeard. Hopefully you’ll meet the carrier on the way. If not, feed at Blackbeard and then go find it. Get Shar up here, soonest. Bring Evan if you think you can handle the weight.”
“It’d be easier if I had some sort of powered assist on takeoff,” the dragon grumbled. “Even a cliff. But this place is flat as a board.”
“Kabadda, in the morning get working on a dragon-launching platform,” Edmund said. “It’s stupid that dragons attacking us have assists and our defensive forces don’t.”
“Yes, sir,” the chief of staff said. “But if the dragon leaves, we won’t have any cover for the base, sir.”
“What about the wyverns?” Edmund asked.
“What wyverns?” Joanna said. “I’m the only dragon here.”
Edmund covered his face with his hands and shook his head.
“Send a runner over to the message center. Message follows: Send flight of wyverns and riders to Newfell Base. Immediate. Coastal forces prepare for dragon attacks. More follows. Signature Talbot.”
“Will do, sir,” one of the messengers said, scribbling hastily.
“Kabadda, I want that platform done in less than a week,” Edmund said. “At least twenty meters high, strong enough to support a great dragon. With a catapult.”
“Yes, sir,” Kabadda said. “But… that’s a lot of material.”
“And manpower,” Edmund said. “Which you will find in whatever is left of the shipyards. We’re out of the shipbuilding business for the time being. What do we have in the way of supply craft, and materials, to send out to the fleet? And do we have any idea what we have in the way of supplies?”
“With the headquarters burned we lost most of the records,” Kabadda admitted. “But we can reconstruct some of them from records in the warehouses. There are two transport ships available, but nothing to cover them with.”