Two weeks before the scheduled assault, Martine quietly rowed her canoe onto Elena Island.
She was dropped off by a passing "merchant" vessel headed for the demon continent.
She had 2 hours to scout out the island before the vessel circled back to pick her up.
She landed along the rocky cliffside, parked her boat, and prepared for a climb.
She scaled the jagged cliff face with the ease of a spider.
The sounds of the wave crashing against the shore masked any noises she might make.
Reaching the summit, she lay flat on her stomach.
Masked by the night.
She scanned the terrain with a pair of binoculars, rising to one knee.
The watchtower was a high-stacked stone structure with a wooden shack beside it.
Two guards sat on top, laughing and pushing each other.
They were dressed in loose-fitting clothes and armed with muskets.
<"Vic, ya smell like a demon, don't tell me.">
The other shrugged, <"Hey, she was offering, as much as she could anyway.">
They were speaking Spani, the language of the Sparsia Sultanate.
An empire that spanned both the main and demon continents.
A nation Ambur tried its best not to piss off.
Shifting her attention to the base of the tower, a third guard was resting with a goblin.
<"damn it, why ya let this little fucker out?!">
The goblin, a small brown creature hissed as it swung a jagged rock at the man.
And standing in front of the shack was a guard with his arms crossed.
<"Come on, catch the damn thing… this is getting ridiculous.">
Martine's mentality filed the information, five hostiles at the watchtower.
Including the goblin, which seemed to be a pet of some sort.
Leading from the tower and down to the pier was a gravel path.
Two guards were walking up it while one was walking down.
Guard rotation, maybe?
Down at the pier was a hive nest of activity.
Martine moved like a ghost to get a better view and avoid the risk of being spotted by the tower.
Using the sparse vegetation as cover, she took another look at the pier.
It was about 400 meters from the watchtower, well in range of the snipers.
Alongside the pier were the ships Fredrick mentioned.
They were exactly as described, maybe a little worse for wear with scratches in the paint and holes in the hull.
The three frigates had skeleton crews walking the deck, leaning over the rail, or reading under lantern light.
In the large flagship, around thirty pirates were moving on and off its deck.
They seemed to be moving… humanoids?
Demons and ogres were marched off the ship, and piled into wagons.
Their wrists and legs were chained.
Alongside the creatures, were several dozen injured pirates being cared for and moved.
Martine hummed softly.
"That can't be good… they've captured slaves."
This could mean either that a buyer would be coming to the island soon, or that the pirates would be leaving.
"Consolidated timeline for sure…"
The slaves were being marched on a path that led from the pier to a massive fortress.
It was an ugly, but pragmatic structure.
Similar to the designs of Sparsia coastal forts.
The path from the pier led to the gates of the fortress, illuminated by torches.
As the wagons stopped at the gate, a large man armed with an axe inspected the back.
He raised his torch high as he looked inside.
<"Is this the last batch?"> he asked, his voice low, turning back to look at the driver.
The driver nodded.
<"Yeah, hey is the med room prepped? We got a lot of injuries with this score.">
The man nodded, <"Sure, just so long as the merchandise isn't fucked.">
The driver frowned. <"Why do you think–?!"> he cut himself off with a sigh, <"just let me in, before the captain blows his temper.">
The tall man chuckled as he backed away, opening the gates. <"You should be proud, most incursions in a few deaths, lieutenant.">
She pressed herself flat against the terrain to get closer.
A lieutenant who came back with a decent haul and no casualties.
A competent officer to be on the lookout for.
Martine shifted her attention from the gate to the bastions.
The bastions were angled to provide overlapping fields of fire.
There were twelve on the sea-facing side, and another eight on the landward side.
The eight were split between two main bastions, four each.
At this hour, two men were deployed to each bastion, meaning the rest were either asleep or stationed at the pier.
Makes sense, Martine thought. A surprise attack wouldn't be big enough to warrant everyone on duty.
And if you had a force large enough to take the island, you'd be spotted long before you could land.
Martine waited a bit longer for any new information, but when none was given she retreated.
She moved back from the ridge, through the sparse landscape, and down the rugged cliff face.
— — —
By the time Martine arrived back from her mission it was a week before the planned assault.
And a day before the departure.
Fort Danane was a hive of activity and voices.
The Marines were gathering in trucks.
They were dressed in their full kits and armed with determined expressions.
Alexander was at the lead truck chatting with his officers, when Martine stepped up to him.
"Alexander, I have your intel." She stated, her expression neutral. "I'd like to discuss it with you."
Alexander nodded, "Anything mission critical? If not, we can talk about it during the drive."
Martine shook her head.
"Nothing that changes the immediate plan, though the aftermath is questionable."
Alexander grimaced.
"Fuck, Alright…" he gestured towards the cab of the lead truck. "Klaus, Hans, on me, I want you to hear this."
The cab of the truck was crowded with munitions and smelled of oil and steel.
Hinata was the driver, with Alexander and the others sitting shoulder to shoulder in the back.
When the convoy was ready, one of Elizabeth's personnel gave a thumbs up, and Hinata pulled forward.
The convoy was on its way.
"So," Alexander began, "what's the situation?"
"The island is guarded by at least, 220 pirates."
Martine began, her voice crisp and professional.
"The watchtower has five hostiles, two up top and two at the base."
She then waved a finger in a circle.
"They also have a pet goblin, I'm sure you all know goblins aren't the most intelligent. But, it's still a threat."
Alexander chuckled, bouncing as he hit a slight bump on the road.
"A goblin? I gotta see that."
Hans leaned forward.
"What's the distance from the tower to the pier?"
"400 meters, well within range of sniper fire."
"And the fortress?"
"It's 650-700 meters, that's for the landward-facing guns. Only your best could pull off those shots."
Hans nodded.
"That's fine, I have three who can shoot at those ranges, we'll just target high-priority targets. The rest will move to support the pier assault."
"Speaking off…" Klaus leaned forward.
"The pier is guarded heavily," Martine explained.
"I counted roughly fifty hostiles, in that area alone. Most were on the flagship, but a few were scattered along the frigates and pier."
Alexander glanced at Klaus, who nodded.
"We can handle that. The snipers take out anyone going for swivel guns, and we open up on anyone who aims at us. We fight up onto the pier, mop up any stragglers."
"Plus Hinata," Alexander added.
Martine continued.
"Back to the fortress, this brings in the complications I mentioned earlier."
"Let's hear 'em."
"The men aren't just pirates, they're slavers with ties to Sparsia. And they just brought in a massive haul of slaves, at least three dozen."
All three men swallowed the news.
"Fuck." Alexander hissed, "The sultanate is Ambur's enemy number one. A colonial rival."
"And if those pirates got that many slaves, someone has to be looking to buy them."
Klaus added.
Hans sighed, "We may have to reconsider this mission… if not, we could drag our kingdom into another conflict. One we won't survive."
Alexander turned to Martine, his expression curious and confused.
"The RBA didn't know this before? What's the situation with these pirates and the sultanate?"
Martine sighed.
"We had an idea, but we weren't exactly eager to waste resources on this specific island. As for their relationship to the sultanate, they likely work with a corrupt official, rather than the country itself. The sultanate has an official zero tolerance on all Demi-oids."
She made a finger gun and pointed it at her head.
"Bang." She tilted her head to the side, "on site, no questions."