Atlantis - Return of the Nation

by Steven Cook

  ‘Curses,’ Jarak muttered.

  In a smooth motion he changed the grip on his javelin, stopped his run and cast the missile. It flew true and struck the leader in the chest. The leader stepped back in shock. His foot slipped into a rodent hole and there was the unmistakeable sound of a snapping bone. The warrior cried out in pain.

  ‘Out,’ called Nicocreon from where he stood to one side. He was dressed in a bright yellow tunic to differentiate himself from the warriors.

  The leader sank to the ground in pain, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. The rest of the squad stood looking at him until they heard Jarak break into laughter.

  Without a thought the seasoned warriors broke into a charge after the teenager who had ridiculed them for the last mile.

  Jarak waited for a fraction of a second to make sure they were following before turning tail and sprinting off after the other two cadets.

  The downed warrior started to speak but was cut off by a curt wave from Nicocreon. Instead he shook his head as the warriors gave chase.

  The three teenagers quickly entered the short fold of ground with the warriors in close pursuit. They ran between the waiting cadets and turned around, raising their javelins.

  ‘Nowhere to run now child,’ one of the warriors said through clenched teeth.

  ‘I am tired of running. Besides, I have no need to run anymore,’ Jarak smiled.

  In a coordinated movement the hidden cadets thrust aside their camouflage and stood. Their wooden javelins quickly rested against the throats of the surrounded warriors.

  ‘All out,’ said Nicocreon.

  The defeated warriors lowered their heads except their new leader who lunged at Jarak. The cadet calmly let the man come at him before he stepped aside and drove his knee into his stomach.

  All air was driven out of the man’s lungs. As he recovered Nicocreon grabbed him and turned him around. The big instructor pushed him away.

  ‘Sophia, carry on. You lot come with me back to the staging area.’ Nicocreon started walking back out into the plain.

  As the unit walked out of the ground they quickly returned to the leader of the unit who Jarak had taken out with his javelin. He had pulled his foot out of the hole and was being treated by a medic.

  ‘What happened? Have you got them?’

  He noticed the downcast eyes and tried to catch the eyes of one of the warriors.

  ‘Your squad has been defeated without loss,’ Nicocreon stated.

  ‘Defeated? Who by? What are their names?’

  ‘Jarak son of Jaresus was the lad you were chasing. Sophia daughter of Briggs was the leader of the ambush.’ Nicocreon said.

  ‘Nicocreon, make sure they report to Headquarters when the exercise is over. I want to talk to them,’ said Eridanus.

  *

  Atlantis 23rd May

  The main door burst open with a crash. Conversation stopped in the main room and the crowd strained to see what the commotion was. Dingo and Coran stood leaning on each other.

  ‘To arms,’ Coran attempted to shout, but was bereft of wind. He gulped in a lungful of air. ‘To arms, The Sixth, Seventh and Tenth Realms march against us.’

  Conversation further in the room stopped at the outburst. General Ilissus moved into the space that had appeared around the two men. She addressed them directly.

  ‘Report.’

  Coran pulled himself upright.

  ‘General, we have seen units of the Sixth, Seventh and Tenth Realms gathering in the Sixth region. They have formed up and are marching in this direction. We believe they will be getting reinforcements from outside the city.’

  ‘Very well.’ She spoke to the room at large. ‘Captains, muster your men.’

  Several men in the dress uniforms disengaged from the groups they had been in conversation with and ran for the door.

  Danny and Sophia had stood as Dingo and Coran burst into the building. Sophia turned to Danny.

  ‘I will see you shortly,’ she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he looked worried.

  ‘I need to muster my men as the General has ordered.’

  Danny looked at her in surprise.

  ‘I am the First Captain of the Light Warriors. I was given command when Eridanus retired.’ She stepped back from him then turned and ran from the building, leaving him in stunned silence.

  Other men and women ran from the building into the night. Dingo and Coran regained their breath and moved towards the others. They gathered in the centre of the now deserted room.

  ‘What’s happening?’ asked Fitz.

  ‘It could be Civil war,’ said Eraz. The smile had disappeared from his usually cheerful face.

  *

  Chapter Eleven - Civil War

  USS George H W Bush - South of Arcanadia 24th May

  The crew and officers of the USS George H W Bush were standing at general quarters. The ship was steaming into the wind at twenty-eight knots and was preparing to receive its largest ever aircraft.

  The sensitive radar had picked up the C130 Hercules Transport over an hour ago and the flight control centre had been in constant contact with the plane for the last twenty minutes.

  It wouldn’t be the first time such a large aircraft had landed on an aircraft carrier. In the 1960’s a Hercules had performed over twenty landing and takeoffs on the slightly smaller USS Forrestal. It was only because of a lack of storage space and the inability of the plane to have folding wings that had prevented the program from being adopted.

  Although it had been successful in the past, nobody had attempted a carrier landing in a Hercules in over forty years. The dubious honour of recreating the landing had fallen to Lieutenant Commander Ed Flatley and his crew.

  The Hercules was well adapted to landing and taking off on short runways, albeit not one that was moving at twenty five knots and was moving up and down by as much as twenty feet every few seconds.

  The weather had turned again as the storm of the previous days had made one last gasp attempt to gain strength. Rain was lashing down over the four and a half acres of flight deck, causing the crew to seek shelter wherever they could.

  Flatley was nervously coaxing the heavy aircraft through the buffeting of the gale. He was flying at a lower speed than he would have liked and was prepared to open the throttle and bolt the landing at the slightest hint of a problem.

  Below him he could see the deck of the aircraft carrier. A broad line had been painted down the deck to give him an indication of the optimum landing path. All other aircraft had been either launched or removed to the hangars safely beneath the deck.

  If he were successful with his landing the right wing of his plane would be a relatively safe fifteen feet from the central island. If not, then it wasn’t worth considering. The line painted on the deck would give him the clearance from the island on one side, and ensure the wheels of the Hercules didn’t disappear over the side of the deck on the other.

  ‘Looking good,’ remarked the Air Boss situated in Flight Control on the aircraft carrier.

  The Hercules could be easily seen from the carrier, the bulk of its body a dark blotch against the grey sky. It’s landing lights speared through the rain.

  ‘Lowering landing gear,’ commented Flatley.

  His voice echoed his actions, and the profile of the aircraft changed as the sturdy wheels lowered and locked.

  ‘Call it,’ the Boss radioed.

  ‘I have the ball,’ Flatley announced, following the agreed protocols.

  He swallowed nervously as he confirmed his decision to land on the pitching deck. One thousand feet of deck should be more than enough for the Hercules.

  The Hercules descended quickly. In the flight control centre the Air Boss unconsciously held his breath as the plane swept over the stern of the shi
p. On deck the exposed crew unconsciously ducked a bit lower as the massive droning shadow swept over them.

  With a resounding thump the wheels met the rising deck. Instantly Flatley slammed on the brakes and pulled back on the throttles. The Hercules skipped once before the wheels stuck to the deck.

  The Hercules decelerated quickly despite not having the use of an arrester wire. It achieved a full stop after less than three hundred feet.

  A resounding cheer rose from the deck crew, who ignored the driving rain and raced from their pits to secure the transport plane.

  In the cockpit Flatley turned off the engines and took a deep breath before turning to his co-pilot.

  ‘There’s plenty of room to take off from here too,’ he smiled at his companion’s slightly green complexion.

  ‘Come on, let’s get unloaded so we can get out of here.’ He removed his harness and moved towards the back of the plane and its huge cargo bay.

  He opened the door to the bay and saw that the loadmaster was already in the process of lowering the rear hatch. As it touched the deck a number of ordnance handlers clambered into the hold. The loadmaster began supervising the unloading of the unusual cargo.

  Taking up most of the space was a twenty-five foot long boat usually associated with the Coastguard. What was unusual about the Guardian class craft was the high gloss black finish that coated the surfaces of any technical system or gadget, from the prow to the stern, standing in contrast to the dull grey hull. Even the three Mark 48-0 lightweight machine guns were shining.

  Alongside the boat were a number of crates containing various small arms and ammunition. These crates were already being unloaded by a team of Rangers who had travelled as passengers on the flight from mainland Europe.

  The tired but grim looks on the Rangers faces made Flatley pity the natives who would stand up in battle against them.

  ‘Sir, Commander Flatley?’ Flatley was alerted by a call from the hatch.

  Skirting the Rangers and the cargo he made his way to the hatch to see a drenched Petty Officer 3rd Class wrapped in oilskins waiting for him.

  ‘Sir, the Admiral would like a word with you. He has a favour he would like you to do on your way home.’

  ‘Lead on, it doesn’t do to keep admirals waiting.’ The Petty Officer handed him an oilskin then escorted Flatley across the flight deck, through the sheets of rain and into the command tower.

  *

  Fifth Quadrant - Atlantis 24th May

  Alarm bars were ringing loudly around the Fifth quadrant, calling off duty guards and warriors to their posts. The well-disciplined troops were responding with alacrity and calmness that would make any general proud.

  A cluster of small groups stood on the lawn outside the residence of General Ilissus. Surrounding the General were the First Captains and her supporting staff.

  Slightly to one side Dingo, Warnett, Danny and Fitz stood quietly watching. Eraz was keeping them company whilst trying to explain what was going on.

  ‘Early reports suggest that we are being surrounded by elements of the Sixth, Seventh and Tenth Realms. They have not made any advances into Fifth Territory as yet. There are no signs within the city of any Minoans, but they are outside the City. They are covering the gates and wall sections relevant to the Fifth and Fourth that we can see.’ Eraz announced.

  ‘So it looks like most of the rest of the city is with them.’ Warnett countered.

  ‘Of the lesser elements yes. The First and Second Realms do not have external walls as they are situated on the central island. We will be able to contact them to sort this out.’ Eraz sounded confident.

  ‘It looks like something’s happening,’ said Fitz.

  The crowd around General Ilissus was moving away from her towards their relevant companies. The General noticed them all watching her and waved for them to approach. She had changed from her evening wear and was now attired in a full set of armour.

  ‘We are going to The Centre at dawn to petition Atlas to order the rogue factions to stand down so the decision can be carried out under standard protocols. I will be taking an honour guard and would like you all to attend to describe the events that have lead up to this outrage. Please return to your rooms and change back into your own clothing. It will be more believable if you are dressed as Outworlders.’

  Danny and the three Americans looked at the lightening sky to the East and ran immediately back into the house. They were back down on the lawn a few minutes later in their overalls. Danny was amused to see that Dingo had returned the useless Sig pistol back into its holster.

  The honour guard had also formed up. Danny was surprised to see Sophia standing at their head. He wandered over to her. She was now attired in armour similar to that worn by Saraph, although the helmet held in the crook of her arm was of the same format as the heavy infantry with a narrow Y shaped opening instead of the full open face of the Border Guards.

  ‘Sophia,’ he started to say.

  ‘Danny. Do not look shocked. I have trained in arms since I was old enough to pick up a sword. Look a little more carefully at the warriors. I am not the only woman here.’ He was shocked at her words.

  ‘I was only going to say that I was coming with you.’

  Sophia looked embarrassed.

  ‘I am sorry. I just expected you to say it was not a suitable career for a woman.’

  ‘Not at all, there are quite a few women on the Daring, and the Israelis have had women in their armed forces for years,’ he smiled broadly at her.

  ‘Besides, the uniform shows off your legs,’ he finished.

  Sophia blushed deeply. Danny noticed several of the warriors standing behind Sophia were openly grinning at the banter between them.

  Danny cheerfully took a few steps away from Sophia and collapsed to the grass, arms laid by his sides.

  ‘OK Andy, what do you want to tell them upstairs?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Warnett, ‘that we’re going to see their Leader?’

  Danny raised himself up on his elbows.

  ‘I’ve never met a king before.’

  He lay back down. The grin disappeared from his face and he began moving his arms in sequence. Concentration showed on his face as he relayed the message twice.

  Message sent he scrambled to his feet and joined the small column that had formed up. At its head General Ilissus checked everything was ready. Satisfied she gave the signal and they set off.

  The steady tramp of the warriors sandals rang through the streets as they approached the joint Fifth/Sixth bridge that spanned the innermost canal and lead to the centre of the city.

  ‘Oh shit,’ said Fitz, earning a scowl from Eridanus, who was limping alongside.

  He smiled in apology and pointed ahead in explanation.

  On the bridge a column of warriors was standing. They numbered more than Illisus’ honour guard and were in full heavy combat armour. In addition to Spears and Swords there were a number of Archers at the rear of their formation.

  General Ilissus continued to stride towards the bridge, ignoring the obvious threat.

  ‘General Ilissus.’ A man in civilian clothing pushed past the front row of warriors to greet the marching honour guard.

  ‘How lovely to see you.’

  General Ilissus called a halt and approached the massed warriors.

  ‘Carathrides,’ she replied curtly.

  ‘Oh dear General, I hope you are not in a bad mood.’

  The condescending tone of Carathrides matched his looks. He was different to most of the Arcanadians Danny and the others had seen. He was short and slightly overweight. His hair was thinning and one pudgy hand would now and then brush the lank strands back across his crown.

  ‘What do you want?’ The general ignored his words.

  ‘I was wondering if my men and I could e
scort you to the Temple,’ Carathrides indicated the ranks behind him.

  ‘I have enough of an honour guard,’ replied Ilissus.

  ‘I merely wish to ensure your safety.’

  ‘But Citizen, why would I need your men to ensure my safety?’ Ilissus asked innocently. ‘You have so many men; you must be worried for your own safety.’

  ‘There are factions within the city who think contrary to the ways of our elders. Yet I am not worried. A fraction of these men would be enough to protect me.’

  ‘Then it seems you need numbers to build up your honour.’ Ilissus retorted gently.

  Ilissus didn’t miss the flash of anger in his eyes or the whitening of his knuckles. He took a gulp of air but was too annoyed to speak.

  She smiled humourlessly at the furious man before turning and resuming her place at the head of the Fifth column. She called out and they took up the pace, striding in perfect order across the bridge.

  Behind her Carathrides spat at the floor and turned to the officer standing nearby.

  ‘Captain, have most of your men wait here. I do not want that whore getting back past them to the rest of her troops. Have your best men form up as an honour guard.’

  Carathrides didn’t wait for an answer; instead he started scrambling across the bridge in the wake of Ilissus and the Fifth.

  *

  The White House 24th May

  ‘Mr President, we have updates from USS George H W Bush and the survivors on the island.’ Phil Taylor was half in and half out of the Oval Office.

  ‘Come in Phil and tell us all,’ The President waved him in.

  ‘Thank you sir,’ he pushed open the door and walked into the office for the first time in his life.

  The Secret Serviceman closed the door silently behind him.

  The President, Jack Henry and General Norton were sitting away from the Presidential table drinking coffee and looking over a newly printed map of Arcanadia that was spread out over a low coffee table. General Ciuffetelli was standing by the large windows, tapping his thumb nail against his teeth while he thought deeply.