Avalon

by Chris Dietzel

  Why would it be any different this time?

  “Because each attempt is progress,” she said, not with words, but as a thought in response to the Word’s question. “You once agreed with Mortimous to get me to return to my home. It didn’t result in an end to war, but look at how far we’ve come since then. The galaxy is nearly united. Yes, there are problems in the Round Table but they can be worked out. Please, give us another chance.”

  The response, when it arrived, wasn’t encouraging. If she didn’t know better, she would have guessed Mortimous was telling the Word to play games with her. Their response was exactly the same as before.

  Why would it be any different this time?

  Rather than answer right away, she thought about what she could say that didn’t repeat her earlier answer.

  “Because the people made a giant first step, and because they want to make another. They want the Round Table to work. They’re glad not to have empires and kingdoms anymore. Every mistake is a chance to learn and that’s what they’re doing. Slowly, yes, but they are still learning. Please, don’t give up on them.”

  Why would it be any different this time?

  If she were younger, she would have shouted at the Word to stop asking the same dumb question over and over. But that wasn’t true because a younger version of herself wouldn’t have been able to communicate with the Word at all. Vere centered herself once more. If time didn’t exist to the Word, it wouldn’t matter how long she took to collect her thoughts.

  “Because they’ve learned the most important lesson. They thought the Round Table would make everything better just by its sheer existence. But ships of war still traveled to distant worlds. The people understand that this is no way to live in peace. If they survive this, they won’t go in search of conflict again. They just need another chance.”

  There was only one question she expected. She was shocked when a different thought appeared in the back of her mind.

  How can you be sure?

  “Because...” she said, then trailed off when an answer failed to come to her. She tried to think of a way she could prove to the Word that the galaxy wouldn’t make the same mistakes it always made. “Because...”

  Nothing came to her, though. And after a moment she realized the Word was gone.

  83

  What Lancelot had said to Philo was true. For the Vonnegans on Greater Mazuma, the battle was lost. Pompey had the first inkling of such a defeat once the Hannibal had released their hundreds of mech-sized portals. That had been the point when he realized almost all of the traps they had set would be negated by the enemy’s ability to immediately teleport through an energy field to hundreds of different places in the battlefield.

  The idea was reaffirmed when, on one of the holographic feeds, he spotted Philo stumbling through the city. The former Fianna was only one individual and Pompey knew a single fighter didn’t win or lose a fight, but seeing the elite warrior hobbling and seriously injured had broken a part of the former general’s spirit.

  He still had no idea who had been piloting the shuttle that picked Philo up or why a Llyushin transport had also been in the vicinity. It was also unclear, from the holo-feed’s angle, whether Philo had departed under his own free will or if he had been taken. That was the least of Pompey’s concerns, however.

  His entire focus was on the horror that was unfolding underground. The mechs were bypassing one trap after another. Without any other meaningful defenses, either on the street or below the surface, the four enemy units were able to go from one hiding spot to another at will, killing every Vonnegan they found huddled there, regardless of age or gender or whether they faced death with resolve or begged for their lives.

  It had started with the ancient aqueduct where Thidian had been hiding. Greater Mazuma’s city planner had been at the far end of the aqueduct when the mechs came through the steel wall. On one of the holographic displays Pompey tracked, Thidian’s presence was made clear.

  When the mechs had cut through the steel wall, tens of thousands of Vonnegans tried to flee. But in the enclosed space they were hiding, there was no place to go. It was a slaughter the likes of which Pompey had never seen before. He had heard stories of the nine Fianna massacring thousands of revolutionaries during an uprising, but even that, as bad as it had sounded, paled in comparison to what Pompey watched on the holographic feed. Four large mechs killed two hundred thousand innocent Vonnegans with ease.

  Pompey had wanted to avert his eyes from the slaughter. As the leader of the battle, though, he knew he owed it to the victims to watch what happened to them. The only saving grace of the massacre was that it was efficient and quick. Three of the mechs guarded the opening in the wall to ensure no one could flee. The black mech extended its hand to reveal the lethal scales, which were already beginning to seep its poisonous contents out of either side. It didn’t take much time for the toxic cloud of black energy to waft through the entire aqueduct. As it did, everyone in its path stopped screaming and fell to the ground, lifeless. Thidian had been one of the last to die. Pompey was sure the man was dead because the dot representing him on the holographic display changed colors from white to red.

  The mechs scanned the cavernous room to make sure there were no survivors. Then they filed out of the aqueduct and began searching for other places Vonnegans could hide.

  Pompey, resigned to his fate, watched each subsequent massacre as well. There were a few resistance fighters still alive on the surface. None of them would offer a meaningful threat to the mechs, though. There was no chance the mechs would be defeated. Greater Mazuma was lost.

  If there was any way he could have surrendered, he would have. In the days of the Vonnegan Empire, such an act would have been considered treasonous. None of that mattered to Pompey now. All he cared about was trying to save anyone he could. Of course, the Hannibal didn’t care about surrender. If they had, they would have sent a communication with the terms they were seeking. There was nothing Pompey could do but watch the horror continue to play out.

  He thought about taking his own life. It was what Vonnegan military leaders had done in ancient times when facing defeat on the battlefield. Death was coming for him, he knew, one way or the other. After the mechs finished underground they would return to the surface to eliminate any remaining survivors. When they did, they would easily find him in the command center. He could jump out of the window high above Greater Mazuma and plummet to his death. There was also a blaster on the table nearby, along with an ion grenade. Either would do the job.

  He couldn’t do it, however. Not because he wasn’t up to the task, but because he owed it to the Vonnegan people to remain alive as long as possible. It would have been unfair if he detonated an ion grenade and was gone in a flash when there were millions of Vonnegans who didn’t have the same option.

  Even with the portals, it took a long time for the mechs to travel to each hiding spot and kill all the people huddled there. Thidian had done a good job of identifying a vast array of geographically dispersed locations of varying depths and types. Eventually, however, the Hannibal did finish their work, and when they did, each of the mechs disappeared through a portal and reappeared on the streets of Greater Mazuma.

  The mechs found the last remaining pair of resistance fighters in the southwest quadrant. Then, they eliminated a pair of soldiers in the southeast quadrant who had climbed into the debris of a destroyed ion tank in the hopes of being overlooked. They traveled to the center of the metropolis where they found the woman who had been assigned to the bunker with Philo. The white mech sent an ion arrow through her stomach and she died instantly.

  That was when the matte gray mech began to rise above the city. Pompey knew it was coming for him. The mech’s hover platform continued to elevate higher and higher until it was near the top of the Molghast skyscraper. There, only ten feet away, it was eye-level with the Vonnegan military leader, who looked at his foe through the skyscraper’s window.

  He knew his next
action wasn’t going to have any meaningful impact but he did it anyway because he was a fighter and because he owed it to his people. With no chance of surviving any longer, Pompey’s thumb activated the ion grenade in his hand.

  The action brought a smile to his lips. Anyone who knew Pompey’s inner thoughts would understand why. For much of his life, he had been sure his life would end one of two ways. Either he would die aboard an Athens Destroyer under his command or he would die an old man in his home. After retiring from the Vonnegan military, he had been positive there was only one way he would meet his end. Life had proven him wrong, though, and the way he would die, so different than anything he ever imagined, seemed almost comical.

  A split second later, he was incinerated. The blast of white and blue energy expanded, its outer perimeter reaching the gray mech. For a brief moment, swirls of sky blue sparkles washed over the mech’s outer plating. Then the ion grenade’s blast evaporated and the mech, unharmed, rejoined the other three units.

  After they were finished on the planet, the four mechs traveled back to the Juggernaut, whose engines powered up and began to head further into the expanse of space controlled by the Round Table.

  84

  Talbot was one of the people aboard the first vessel to arrive to EndoKroy. Standing at the command deck of the cruiser, it was impossible not to stare in awe at the planet in front of him. Only a few years earlier, it would have been unthinkable for anyone from the CasterLan kingdom to be anywhere near the Vonnegan capital. Now, he was being welcomed.

  Growing up, the planet had been the subject of many stories he and his friends told each other. EndoKroy, the place where evil was born. EndoKroy, the place filled with people who hated any and every CasterLan. EndoKroy, the place covered in purple blood. Of course, now that he was older he realized how fantastic those tales had been. EndoKroy was simply a planet that had been ruled by a war-crazed madman. None of the people on the planet had hated Talbot or anyone else from the CasterLan kingdom. They had merely wanted to live their lives and take care of their families, the same as everyone else in the galaxy.

  That wasn’t to say the planet was unremarkable. The capital, like CamaLon, was surrounded by an ancient perimeter wall. It had long swathes of fields, expansive oceans, and mountain ranges that would take anyone’s breath away. The newest marvel, however, was born recently and wasn’t anything the Vonnegan people wanted to remember.

  Even from space, Talbot could see a ring of scorched land near the middle of the capital. From a distance it looked as though the city had been built around a dormant volcano that had unexpectedly become active. It was the site where the Excalibur vessel that Arc-Mi-Die had sent had exploded, taking millions of lives with it. The dot was actually a ten-mile radius of utter destruction. As the cruiser got closer, more detail came into view. None of the buildings in that portion of the capital were standing. Ash and dirt covered the trees and plants.

  To the people of EndoKroy, it had been a disaster of an unimaginable extent. And yet only an estimated one percent of the planet’s population had perished. The rest of the city and planet went on as construction bots worked to clear debris and begin rebuilding. It certainly was not the destruction of the entire planet, where billions of people lived. Most of the population had been lucky enough to be spared by one disaster, and now another was approaching that wouldn’t be limited to a couple miles of the capital but would blanket every single corner of the planet.

  These were the people Talbot would protect as he and Lancelot made their stand against the Hannibal.

  85

  Even though it was going to be used in the impending battle, the first Excalibur ship to be outfitted with a new guidance system didn’t follow the same course as Talbot. The legendary vessels would play a critical role in the coming confrontation with the Hannibal, and yet this single ship traveled in the opposite direction from the Mardigan sector. It was escorted by a pair of Round Table flagships—one Solar Carrier and one Flying Fortress. This was to prevent it from falling into the hands of pirates looking to make a name for themselves.

  Only the brigadier in command of the Solar Carrier and the lieutenant in command of the Flying Fortress knew what their final destination would be. The rest of the crews simply followed orders. When they had a chance, personnel walked to a side viewport to glimpse the ancient ship alongside them.

  In a different sector of space, yet another Excalibur ship that had departed from the red giant star was also making its way across the galaxy. This one, along with the HC Ballistic Cruiser and Solar Carrier accompanying it, vanished into a portal in the Twi-Nik-Die sector and reappeared from a portal at the edge of the known galaxy.

  One by one, legendary ships departed from the star that Arc-Mi-Die had been using as his hiding spot, each setting off on its own divergent course. Only one of the ships went toward the Vonnegan capital, where it would hold position until Lancelot and Talbot called it into service against the Hannibal.

  At least, that was the plan.

  86

  Hours after Talbot arrived at EndoKroy, Lancelot, Swordnew, and Philo also got there aboard the Carthagen shuttle, with Quickly and Traskk flying next to them aboard the modified Llyushin transport. Philo, completely healthy again after the medical bots treated his injuries, had chosen to remain by himself in the back of the shuttle for most of the flight.

  Lancelot had offered him the use of the medical bots to address the severe disfigurement to his face but he refused, telling her he would rather remain scarred. To the former Fianna, the mutilation was what he deserved until he made amends for his former crimes. If he defeated the mechs, if he saved the people of EndoKroy, he would consider allowing the medical bots to graft new skin on his face. Until then, he was fine looking like a monster.

  The thought made him smile. All the years he had been a Fianna, people had been scared to look at him. But what they had been seeing wasn’t him at all, it had been the demon-faced helmet designed to strike fear into those who saw it. Underneath the ghoulish faceplate he had looked like any other Vonnegan. Purple tinted skin. A broad chin. It was only after he had given up being a Fianna that he really did look like a nightmarish goblin. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

  Lancelot had known better than to pester him with questions. After stating her case and telling Philo he would have a second chance at redemption, she had left him alone to gather his thoughts. He still didn’t know who was aboard the other ship or why these people thought they could do what the Round Table fleet, the prisoners at the Cauldrons of Dagda, or the planned resistance on Greater Mazuma had all failed to do, but Lancelot had assured him she would explain everything once the group got together.

  Part of him was eager to go to the cockpit and see EndoKroy from space. During his time as a member of Mowbray’s elite guard, it had been the planet he had served the majority of his time on. It had a character and charm that was missing from Greater Mazuma’s landscape of high-rises, but it was also the embodiment of what he had wanted to forget about. He didn’t particularly care for Greater Mazuma either. It was cold and metal and many of the buildings looked identical. And yet he had chosen to live there instead of the place with mountains and fields and seas because he viewed EndoKroy as a place that represented the worst parts of his humanity. It was where he had killed women and children without question. It was where he had tortured people Mowbray suspected of being traitors. Philo had been particularly good at delivering just enough pain, at a slow enough pace that his victims never went into shock. Instead, they were forced to feel everything that was happening to them.

  It was sometimes difficult to remember that EndoKroy was also the place his parents had taken him on vacation when he was a little boy. The first time he had seen the landscape cast in purple light, he gasped and his parents had laughed and squeezed his hand. When he was a teenager, he had returned to the planet on a week-long field trip for school.

  The entire time he had worn the armor of the Fia
nna and served Mowbray, he had thought of neither of those memories. It was almost as if the armor had erased one part of him and left only the portion of him that knew how to kill and inflict pain.

  The shuttle banked left, pushing him gently back into his seat. Without wasting any more time, Philo scooped his helmet up, allowed it to fall over his head until it fit snug around his cheeks and temples, then walked to the cockpit.

  Swordnew and Lancelot turned to acknowledge him but neither spoke. Instead, the three of them watched in silence as the former capital of the Vonnegan Empire became larger and larger. Seeing it from space, the same sense of wonder returned that he had felt as a child. An instant later, he saw the circle of destruction left behind by the Excalibur ship and the cheerful nostalgia drained from his face. His jaw became fixed and no part of his face moved. It had been Arc-Mi-Die who had sent that attack, not the Hannibal, but seeing part of EndoKroy in rubble reminded him of Greater Mazuma, which he had sworn to protect.

  In the glare of the cockpit, he saw a reflection of himself with the demon mask on. The killer in Philo was rekindled.

  Art 4

  Demon Mask of the Fianna, by Ella Pennock, watercolor and ink

  87

  From a side viewport of Talbot’s cruiser, Mortimous and Vere watched the gathering of ships. An assortment of small vessels had arrived. Everyone on the planet’s surface must have been wondering when the Round Table’s flagships were going to appear. They would be waiting a long time if that was what they expected. Instead, the shuttle with Lancelot, Swordnew, and the Fianna had arrived, with the Llyushin transport next to it.

  Vere had no doubt Traskk was happy to be part of an adventure again. Part of her wished she could join the Basilisk aboard Quickly’s vessel and give him a hug. But he didn’t have the ability to see her or even sense her presence.