On this cockleshell of a craft, among these rude spirits of alien races, he was powerless.

On land a diplomat and strategist of high order, here he was a cipher.

Moreover, he was beaten to his knees, and he knew it.
The arrival of the warship had upset his calculations.

After many months' planning of flight, he had been forced, by the events of a few hours, into an aggressive campaign.

His little cohort had done wonders, it is true, but of what avail were these ill-equipped stalwarts against a fast-moving fort, armed with heavy guns and propelled by thousands of steam horses?
None, absolutely none.