A novel by Meredith Skye

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Slowly the minutes dragged by in the command bunker outside of Rhashan. Godwin had arrested Koethe and relieved him of command. His officers were imprisoned. Koethe himself had been spared the indignity of being shackled and put in a cell.

Koethe stood near Chief Nyan in the Command bunker watching the progress of the troops on the small computer table that served as a map. Koethe's men still sat in the cells, under arrest.

The last two decades, Koethe had such glorious plans for Garran. He would become the governor. He would make a name for himself and his descendants. Garran had great potential, if the conflicts would ever stop.

But now Koethe had been relieved of command, he'd be lucky if they didn't drag him back home in chains for a court martial. The thing that upset him the most was that either way, if they forced him off the planet then he may never see Asta again. His daughter would be stuck at the center of a civil war that was spiraling out of control. Would they even search for her?

It broke his heart.

He realized that he had been cold to her over the years. Had he pushed her away? He should have reached out to her more. Would that have hurt his dignity so much? Or had he been waiting for her admit she'd been wrong?

Suddenly, the door snapped opened blowing sand in every direction. One of Nyan's men fought the constant howling wind to slam the door shut again. Some of Nyan's men exchanged uneasy glances.

The bunker quietly awaited word about the advancing troops. Blackouts on the computer satellite became more frequent and lasted longer as the storm approached. Radio communication also became more and more difficult.

Nyan frowned at the computer map as it blacked out again. Helplessly, they waited for it to come back on. Koethe kept his tongue. He'd already explained to Nyan how bad these storms could get—the blackouts, the communication failures, the damage the sand itself could do to a man, not to mention equipment.

But Nyan was General Godwin's man and he had his orders. He would hold the bunker and would only act on orders from General Godwin.

"It's been two hours," said Koethe, restlessly.

"They're on foot in the desert. The approach will take time."

"They'll never make it," said Koethe. "Garran nor Chanden." He waved at hand at the black computer screen.

"Any word?" asked Nyan to one of his men.

"Nothing, sir. It's dead." His eyes held fear.

Nyan nodded but wasn't one to back down. "The General said to hold this position, then back him up." Part of the militia had been left behind at the Command center, held in reserve to fly in at the last minute via airship.

A sigh escaped Nyan. "Have the men load up in the airships. We have to send them now."

Koethe took a step closer. "Are you insane? You'll be sending them to their deaths!"

"I have my orders," said Nyan. "And order the auxiliary units to begin their attacks on the clan homes." Nyan had delayed the order this long.

"You can't," said Koethe, stepping towards Nyan. Several guards drew the guns and pointed them at Koethe. He stopped.

Nyan simply stared at him.

Gritting his teeth, Koethe took a few steps away. The situation was impossible. He suspected that a lot of the soldiers who'd left were already dead, but there was no way to confirm this. And Nyan's pedantic nature made the situation impossible.

"I'm getting a lot of interference," complained the communications officer.

Good.

Just then a soldier broke through the door from outside, letting in another blast of wind and sand. "Sir," the man said. "The storm is headed this way. I can see it."

Nyan looked calmly at him. "We're aware of the situation. You have orders. Carry them out."

The man stared at Chief Nyan, then looked over to Koethe, as in appeal. He was met with silence. Deflated, he replied. "Yes, sir." He turned and left, causing a swirl of sand when he opened the door.

"You should go look at it," said Koethe.

"I can see it on the computer," he said, but as they glanced at the screen, it was still blank. Nyan frowned again.

"Come see it," said Koethe. "Look at what you're sending your men into."

Nyan's face was stoic, but Koethe could see the worry in his eyes. Finally, he relented. "Very well," he went to the doors and opened them. Koethe followed close behind.

They climbed up the stone stairway and out into the open air.

At noonday, the sky had blackened with clouds so that it looked like sunset. Snatches of red from the sun bled through at the edges of the sand clouds.

A fierce wind ripped through the camp, threatening to uproot every tent, many of which had been secured with cement blocks. Men ran here and there, trying to make preparations. In the distance, the airships were loading up but the wind drowned out even the sound of their engines.

And to the west, from the very direction Nyan had ordered the airships to fly, a wall of loose-flying sand a hundred feet high made its way towards the camp like a tidal-wave threatening a beach.

Nyan's eyes went wide at the sight. Slowly the wave crept towards them, like a doom. The sky grew steadily darker as they watched. The sight of the sandstorm sent a deep-rooted fear into even a seasoned veteran of Garran such as Koethe.

The storm would kill them all.

For a moment, Nyan stuttered, wordless. Then he turned to his officer. "Cancel the attack!" he said. "Order a retreat. Send it to all the troops! Get them out."

"Yes, sir," said the man.

"Have everyone retreat to Drealea!"

Relief spread over Koethe. Sanity, at last. He only hoped it was not too late. "And the attack on the clan homes?" pressed Koethe.

Nyan nodded. "Send word. Cancel the auxiliary attacks as well. All units should withdraw."

"Yes, sir," the soldier replied.

"Leave the tents," Nyan instructed another soldier. "Just load up the men."

All the remaining soldiers ran towards the airships. A few officers scrambled up out of the bunkers, carrying the computer equipment. It became a mad scramble for the airships as the storm crept ever closer, towering over them, ready to wash over the camp any moment.

Koethe's men were taken from the bunker, still prisoners, and loaded in the airships. Koethe waited with Nyan till the last moment then they ran for one of the last airships, just escaping the wrath of the desert.

On the airship, as it slipped safely away. Koethe let his mind go back to his daughter, stuck out there somewhere in the desert. He felt a despair at the thought. There was nothing he could do for her.

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