“No! There’s some kind of mistake here! Time travel is impossible, we can’t travel in time any more than we can travel at, or beyond, light speed.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but it checks out, we sent up an Eagle with a surveillance satellite and it tells us we’re on a pre-industrial Terra. Pollution and radiation levels are almost non-existent.”
“No!” Billy shook his head. “This does not happen...okay gentlemen, dismissed,” he broke up the conference. “Masthan, not you.” He held back Gummell.
“Sir!” a Scanner Technician announced from amidst the carnage of the shattered War Room. “We have what you would call ‘horsemen’ approaching from the south.”
“Horsemen? Are you serious?”
“Sir, transferring to View Screen.”
With the all senior officers except Gummell, dismissed, Billy saw the two-dimensional View Screen stutter into life as it projected an image upwards from one of the external sensors on the Aquarius. On the screen, the unmistakable image of knights, dressed in chain mail and long, dark blue surcoats, galloped on powerful horses towards the Aquarius. Each knight carried a dark-blue shield, and long lance topped by a dark-blue pennant that fluttered rapidly in the wind.
“How many?”
“Thirty-one, sir, about seven kilometres away.”
“This cannot be real!” Billy mumbled as he watched the knights; in two columns, led by a greying-haired, scarred, but confident looking man.
“They look very real to me, sir,” the Engineer responded.
Taking a deep breath, Billy sighed and leaned against the War Table with his fists. Whatever his personal views on time travel, there was a situation that had to be dealt with. And, as a commander, he had to make rational decisions.
“Masthan set someone to work on the scientific research databases, if we have landed in the year eleven-eighty then we’d better find out how we got here, and more importantly, how we get ourselves out.”
“Sir,” Gummell snapped to attention. “If we are in the Holy Land in the year eleven-eighty, then the history database says we are in what is called the Kingdom of Jerusalem, ruled by King Baldwin the Fourth, sir.”
Billy dredged his memory for the few scraps of knowledge he could remember from his history books. “Yes, he was the guy that had leprosy, died young. Basically, Jerusalem was a medieval French colony in the Middle East. It was all Crusaders and Saracens hacking lumps out of each other over religion and stuff. Sultan Saladin thrashed them all over the shop and eventually recaptured Jerusalem.”
“Yes, sir, but what are we going to do about the neighbours?” Gummell asked.
“Well, I suggest we make them feel welcome, is the hull still hot?”
“No, sir,” an Engineer Technician responded. “We had some force-shielding all the way through the atmosphere. The hull is completely cold, sir,”
“Good! We wouldn’t want our guests fried before we get to meet them. Gummell, we’d better sweeten the pill of our arrival and do a little bit of Diplomating.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have a hunt through the historical databases, and scare up a template for high-value gold and silver coins for the era, then duplicate, oh, about a thousand of each, and maybe two hundred diamonds and the same in rubies, that should be enough. And, rustle up some chests to put them in, plus an eight Trooper security detail in case we have to go visiting.”
“Right, sir.”
“Baldwin the Fourth had leprosy, which was incurable at the time, so ask Chief Medical Officer Radkor to meet me down in Landing Bay Three with his portable bag of tricks. I think leprosy was caused by bacterial infection.”
“Sir, you can’t possibly be considering curing their King of his leprosy?”
“Why on earth not?”
“Won’t that change the entire time line?”
“History has a habit of sorting itself out, Officer Gummell. Baldwin was a good King for his time, renowned for his religious tolerance, so it can only be for the better.”
“But, sir, changing the timeline could have far reaching consequences for this planet.”
“Officer Gummell, where I come from they teach us that if you have the power or the ability to end injustice or suffering, then you also have the duty to do so. As the only human here, I’m the only one potentially at risk. The Garmaurians are still out there interfering wherever they can. Your people are probably dozens of Parsecs distant, so they won’t be affected.”
“Yes, sir, but if you, or we, do something that kills one of your ancestors, then you’ll never be born and the Alliance will never exist.”
“Of course it will! The Garmaurians will still fight their civil war, still wipe each other out, and their mission to Earth will still go ahead. All that will be different is that you might have a First Admiral who was a Royal Air Force pilot.”
“It’s still a terrible risk, sir.”
“Life’s full of risks, and, if I do manage to go back in time and kill my grandmother before she meets my grandfather and I’m never born, there will be one major problem.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“If I’m never born, who’s going to go back in time and kill my grandmother?” Billy left the question hanging as he walked away from the War Table.
Reaching the teleporter, Billy punched in the six-digit code for Landing Bay Three and closed his eyes. After a slow count of three, he opened them again to find that he was in Landing Bay Three. After the terrible crash, the Landing Bay was in turmoil. Eagle fighters lay in ruins amongst the derbis and destruction, bulkheads had been torn from their fixtures, and cabling snaked and slithered from almost every corner and aperture.
Landing Bay Three, where a squadron of ten Eagles should have been ready to launch at a moment’s notice was a shambles. Engineers had started with the repairs, however, Billy’s order to prioritise the micro-circuitry and get Main Power restored, had now drawn them away from those repair tasks.
On the Landing Ramp, Billy could see a detail of eight visored Landing Troopers kneeling with their weapons pointed out towards the approaching horsemen.
Officer Gummell had been his usual efficient self, having delivered the four antique-looking chests of coins and jewels to the Landing Bay.
“Are we secure here, J-Troop?” Billy asked the black-clad Junior Troop Commander, as he checked the contents of the four chests.
Removing a single diamond the size of a chicken’s egg from one of the chests, Billy stepped over to the hatch of the Landing Bay where the Troopers were focussed on the expected guests.
“Yes, sir,” the young Thexxian in charge of thirty Troopers replied. “We’ve got some force-shielding, plus they make a really big target.”
“Okay, no shooting unless it gets really hairy, you understand?”
“Clear, sir. You hear that!? No shooting unless the First Admiral says so!” he conveyed the message to the detail.
The Troopers remained focussed on the approaching horsemen, who drew up in a great cloud of dust; forming a semi-circle behind their leader.
“Name yourself sir!” the leader shouted from his saddle. “And, surrender in the name of the King!” he demanded.
Well, at least the ULTra works here, Billy considered, reflecting that the Universal Language Translator was still functional. This was quite a relief to Billy as he was not quite sure how far his three years of Modern French would stand up to the medieval version.
The ULTra mechanism easily converted the vocabulary, grammar and syntax to a form that Billy could understand and be understood in. The language of every intelligent species in the universe was originally a derivation of Garmaurian. The Garmaurians, seeding the universe with colonies, needed a common language to communicate with their servants, and what better than their own tongue?
Strolling calmly through the force-shielding, Billy activated the highest level of protection on his Personal Environment Suit with a simple thought-command. After around six casual steps, Billy stopped h
alf way down the deployed Landing Ramp and raised his right hand in greeting.
“Welcome friend, I am First Admiral William Caudwell, and whom do I have the honour of addressing?”
“I am Joscelin, Lord of Edessa, Seneschal to his Majesty the King of Jerusalem, and you are my prisoner, Admiral Guillaume,” the lead horseman said bravely, and gestured to the men behind him who lowered their lance points towards Billy.
“I don’t really think so.”
“You make a brave noise for someone outnumbered and alone,” Joscelin of Edessa announced drawing his sword.
“J-Troop!?” Billy half-turned to the ship.
“Sir!”
“Big rock, over there!” Billy pointed to large boulder amongst the scrubby vegetation about two hundred metres away. “Make it disappear!”
“Aye, sir.”
“Watch and learn,” Billy smiled to the lance-bearing horseman, who stared at him in confusion.
An instant later, a pulsar-bolt streaked from the Landing Bay, sped between two lance-bearers and struck the boulder; causing it to explode in a huge burst of flame, dust and debris. The startled war-horses shied and whinnied in alarm, as their terrified riders fought to control the panicking animals. Lances toppled to the ground, as did several chainmail-clad riders whilst Joscelin of Edessa fought with the reins of his own horse.
“What kind of devil are you?” Joscelin snarled bringing his horse under control as the dust settled from the huge explosion.
“No devil, My Lord Seneschal, just weary travellers marooned in a strange land trying to get back home.”
“A strange ship for a seafarer? And, far from the sea.”
“A strange ship from a far off land, but, perhaps we can impose upon your hospitality for a short while as we make our repairs,” he smiled and threw the diamond to the Seneschal of Jerusalem. Billy watched cautiously as the horseman caught the diamond in his right hand and began to scrutinise the huge gem.
“I’m sure we can manage to, shall we say, compensate you adequately for any damage and inconvenience we might cause during our stay.”
“That is not my decision to make.” The Seneschal swiftly pocketed the diamond for himself.
“That’s okay, you can keep that one; we have lots more like it.”
“It is the King who decides such matters, and His Majesty is indisposed at the moment.”
“Yes, I do believe that His Majesty doesn’t keep well. Perhaps our Chief Physician might be of assistance.”
“I doubt if your Physician is any better than those who tend His Majesty now.”
“Ah, so your Physicians also have a cure for leprosy then?”
Joscelin squirmed uncomfortably on his saddle as he watched the insincerely smiling face of the red-haired newcomer with the strange clothing and even stranger ship.
“No one can cure leprosy, it is God’s will that His Majesty was afflicted.”
“Then, perhaps it is God’s will that we should be marooned here to help His Majesty. Either way, we must pay our respects, offer our gifts and submit our petition to stay whilst we make our repairs.”
“Only subjects may petition the King.”
“Then, as we are temporarily stranded on your lands, are we not subject to your laws and customs?”
“This is so, but the King is too ill to read petitions.”
“Then he has even greater need of our Physician than ever, after all, what do you have to lose?” Billy indicated the four open chests on the edge of the Landing Bay.
Torn between greed for the contents of the chests and fear for what might happen to him if these strange, and powerful, newcomers should cause harm to the stricken King, Joscelin squirmed. Then, remembering the huge diamond in his pocket, his greed won the argument.
“Very well, I will conduct you to the Palace where His Majesty’s sister will decide upon your fate, bring out your horses and your escort.”
“No need,” Billy smiled and turned to the Landing Bay door once more, gesturing with his thumb to allow a vehicle to exit.
From the Landing Bay door, the heavy whine of an anti-gravity generator punctured the heavy silence as a Personnel Carrier emerged from behind the force-shielding.
Nearly five metres long, the Personnel Carrier possessed a sharp ‘V’-shaped nose behind which a pilot and commander sat. Behind them, two long bench-like seats were housed in an open-topped, high-sided compartment that terminated in a drop-ramp for easy exit.
The mounted Knights stared in awe as the vehicle drew to a halt halfway down the Landing Ramp.
“No need for horses, My Lord Seneschal,” Billy smiled triumphantly. “We have something that is much quicker!”
“What in the...” Joscelin gasped, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“Can I offer you a lift, My Lord?” Billy smiled cheekily.
Chapter 5
The War Room, Star Destroyer Titan
Second Admiral, and Chief of Staff, Marrhus Lokkrien stared in incredulity at the image on the two-dimensional View Screen. The great gaping maw of whatever was out there had just claimed the flagship of the Universal Alliance Fleet, and with it, the First Admiral.
“Scanners! Report!” the tall, dark-haired Lokkrien bellowed to the Officers and Technicians who inhabited the banks of consoles in front of the War Table that fed him the updated information he needed to make decisions.
“She’s gone, sir.”
“I can see that! Where has she gone!?”
“We can’t penetrate deep enough into whatever that is, sir.”
As the one and only Bardomil in the service of the Universal Alliance Fleet, Lokkrien had defected from the Imperial Fleet when Billy Caudwell had defeated and destroyed a formation of nine Imperial Fighter Carriers and their escorts over a year before. Viewed with the deepest suspicion and mistrust by the vast majority of Alliance Fleet personnel, Lokkrien was biding his time until Billy Caudwell finally subdued the Bardomil Empire. Until that day, however, Lokkrien had to keep a low profile despite his rank as the effective second-in-command to Billy Caudwell.
“Come on Scanners, wake up!” Lokkrien bellowed. “It’s not a wormhole and it’s not a black hole, so what is it?”
“We don’t know sir, there’s nothing like it configured in our system! It’s an entirely new phenomenon, sir.”
“It can’t possibly be! Search again and get me some answers!”
“Radiation sensors picked up a huge burst of Lissian radiation just before the phenomenon appeared,” another Scanner Technician reported.
“Lissian?” Lokkrien questioned.
“Yes, sir,” the reading went right off the chart, then that…thing…appeared.”
“Lissian?” Lokkrien questioned himself quietly.
It had been over a year since the Bardomil Empress had tried to scorch planet Earth out of existence with a massive solar flare generated by a Lissian radiation weapon. With his mind still racing, Lokkrien considered that they were dozens of parsecs away from Earth. This could not be another Bardomil Lissian weapon, Lokkrien mused.
But, the Lissian connection was compelling in Lokkrien’s mind. And, the Bardomil had been remarkably quiet since the Ganthoran Empire had been annexed into the Universal Alliance. Too quiet perhaps, Lokkrien postulated.
Both the Bardomil Empire and the Universal Alliance now eyed each other warily along a massive de-militarized zone. In a deal brokered after the collapse of the Ganthoran Empire, diplomats from both sides had carved up the systems bordering the two massive power blocs and had created the buffer zone that each side now watched closely. However, there seemed to be no reason for any Bardomil aggression at this time. There were no political or territorial disputes, no active crises and no areas of contention that would drive even the near-insane Bardomil Empress Lullina to risk a military showdown.
The Alliance was busily trying to integrate the huge Ganthoran Empire into the fledgling democratic structures that were still forming to govern the fastest expanding p
olitical and military entity in the universe. The last Bardomil attack on the Alliance had been a costly defeat for the Empress Lullina. And, Lokkrien was not sure if the Bardomil were militarily strong enough to have another crack at the Alliance just yet.
The final showdown with the Bardomil Empire was inevitable in the mind of Marrhus Lokkrien. But, given the weakened state of his former masters, Lokkrien considered that creating a weapon capable of eliminating the First Admiral would be the next logical step for the Bardomil to take. It was the strategic and tactical genius of the young red-haired human that still forged the path for the Alliance’s expansion. Somehow, the young human had a grasp of universe-wide strategy that astonished the older and more experienced commanders in the Alliance. Removing Billy Caudwell would seriously, if not terminally, weaken the Alliance.
“Sir,” the Weapons and Tactical Officer, the WATO, broke into Lokkrien’s contemplation, “you have to take command of the Fleet, sir.”
“What!?” the still angry Lokkrien snapped at the Thexxian WATO. “Comms can you raise the flagship?” he turned to the Communications banks.
“Sir,” the WATO persisted, “the First Admiral is gone; you must take command.”
“No, sir,” a Communications Officer replied nervously.
“Can anyone do anything around here!?”
“Sir!” the WATO finally bellowed. “Will you listen to me for one second, SIR!!?”
“What is it?”
“Sir, the First Admiral is gone, you must take command of the Alliance Fleet, sir.”
“No! First Admiral Caudwell is not dead!”
“He doesn’t need to be dead, sir. He is out of communication in a phenomenon we don’t understand...”
“I will not declare Billy Caudwell dead until you put his lifeless corpse down here in front of me on this table!” Lokkrien jabbed his finger at the top of the War Table. “Has anyone sent a probe into that thing?”
“Probe launched, sir.”
“Sir,” the WATO persisted, “there is no one in command, no one to make decisions or issue orders.”
The Master of Muscigny (The First Admiral Series Book 5) Page 4
