“What should we do?” his second-in-command asked.
“Send word to the miners. Make sure they leave the planet.”
After that order was carried out, Penn Pierre called the Cauldron’s staff together.
“The Hannibal are coming,” he told them. “All personnel, essential and non-essential, are to evacuate immediately.”
“And the prisoners?” someone asked.
The warden shook his head. “They stay here.” He smiled then, and added, “They’re an angry group. Maybe they can take some of that anger out on the invaders.”
Two hours later, the miners were finishing up collecting all of their equipment and were reviewing their last passenger manifest to make sure everyone was accounted for. The staff at the Cauldrons were also readying to depart on the Round Table’s cargo vessels and passenger ships.
Penn Pierre’s second-in-command found the warden in the control room of the Cauldrons.
“We’re ready to leave, sir.”
“Very well.” Penn turned and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Get everyone out of the Mardigan Sector safely.”
“You aren’t staying here, sir.”
“I am.”
Any amount of decorum in the senior officer immediately vanished. “That’s crazy. You aren’t the captain of some damaged vessel. This is a prison filled with the worst of the galaxy. They don’t deserve to have you go down with them.”
Penn Pierre smiled. “All the same, it’s a post I have been charged with.”
He turned back to the main window overlooking the courtyard. Lava surrounded the work area on three sides. It was the site of the horrors that the Cauldrons of Dagda had become notorious for.
His second-in-command opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. He saluted, then said it had been an honor serving with him. Penn, still facing the window, nodded but said nothing.
Half an hour later, the Round Table ships departed. The prisoners didn’t know of the approaching invaders or that Penn was the only officer still at the facility. They were about to find out, however.
The warden walked to the side wall and turned on the facility-wide communications system. Speakers in every part of the Cauldrons buzzed with life.
“Everyone, this is Penn Pierre, your warden here.” He smiled, sure that many of the aliens were giving their species’ version of curses and threats even though he had never mistreated any of them. “An enemy is approaching. They have destroyed all life on every planet and moon they have visited on their way here, and they will kill everyone at the Cauldrons as well. All prison personnel have evacuated except for myself.”
Many of the inmates, no doubt, were thinking of ways to find him and murder him simply because it was their nature and they couldn’t help themselves. Others were surely thinking of ways to kill any inmates that had annoyed them.
“The enemy employs four large mechs, each bigger than a single-man space jet. The Cauldrons has an open courtyard. We also have individual cells, some narrow corridors, and some open rooms. Think about where your, ah, talents would best be put to use. When I see the mechs descend toward the planet surface, I will override all security measures and all prisoners will be free to go anywhere they want in the facility in order to face the mechs the way they think is best.”
Although he couldn’t hear the prisoners down in the cells of the Cauldrons, he was sure there was a commotion at being given this news. He gave them time to get it out of their systems before he continued.
“The rest of society has deemed you too dangerous to be anywhere else in the entire galaxy. That’s why you’re here. So, let’s show them they were right, by greeting these mechs in true Cauldrons of Dagda fashion.”
12
Lancelot watched as masses of citizens gathered in the courtyard outside the Great Hall. The fighting between the soldiers and guards had stopped.
Guards loyal to Julian had managed to subdue the soldiers loyal to Hector and now held them as prisoners.
“Let them go,” said Talbot.
One of the guards pulled the visor up on his helmet and said, “But they were loyal to Hector and the representatives who killed your father.”
“Let them go,” Talbot said again. “If we detain these soldiers, we also have to do the same to entire flagship crews.” He pointed to the empty sky where the flagships had faced each other. “And if we arrest them, we should track down everyone who marched in the streets in support of Hector because many of them fought against my father’s supporters. Where will it end, with us locking up half the city? Half the planet?”
The guards were slow to obey the order but they eventually did release their prisoners. Lancelot saw a group of men, women, and aliens dressed in the same robes as the four representatives she had decapitated. One of them shouted that it wasn’t up to Talbot to decide what should happen.
“After all,” the man said, “four of our own died at the hands of that Carthagen.”
Lancelot stood perfectly upright so she was twice as tall as the human who had been speaking. Her hands inched closer to the handles of her four weapons. Before the situation could escalate, Talbot stepped in between the two sides.
“Four representatives do not come close to equaling the hundreds of crew members aboard Captain Cornelious’ Solar Carrier. If you’re going to decide on punishments, you should discuss mine first.”
He held his wrists out to be handcuffed but no one approached him.
“While you’re thinking,” Lancelot said, “keep in mind that he saved millions of lives by doing what he did.”
One of the aliens in robes, a slender creature with translucent skin and tentacles down her dozen arms, said, “And what’s your excuse, Carthagen, for taking the heads off the four representatives?”
But again Talbot spoke on her behalf. “Two of them were responsible for my father’s death. The other two plotted to take over the Round Table. If anyone is going to judge Lancelot for what happened, you should remind yourselves that the culprits behind an impending coup have been killed. And don’t forget Arc-Mi-Die was brought to justice. You would seek to punish the person who did all of that?”
The alien tried to take Talbot’s speech as a rhetorical question that could be ignored, but the crowd in the courtyard demanded an answer.
“Of course not,” the alien said quietly. “It’s just that...” but the representative had nothing else to say and moved a step backward.
“It’s settled then,” Talbot said. “And the same should apply to the crews coming through the gates, regardless of which side they were on. We welcome them back as part of the Round Table or we risk dividing the entire galaxy. Agreed?”
But when he said the last part, Talbot turned away from the representatives and turned instead to pose the question to the crowd that had gathered.
There was hesitation at first, but then Talbot reminded them that he would be the first on trial if anyone was to be judged. They could do that, and he would accept their punishment. But then the same people who had stood for his father would realize the same divisions still existed. Or, they could accept that Julian and Hector, best friends, both heroes, were dead and that those still living should learn the lessons both had tried to teach.
“What’s important now is that we come together to face the Hannibal. We can’t afford to be divided.”
When the crowd had first gathered and the representatives appeared, Lancelot had been ready to ignite her vibro lances and draw her Meursaults. As Talbot spoke, however, she found herself overwhelmed with a new sensation. Admiration.
“Not bad,” she said after he was done speaking. “Maybe you’re more like your father than you give yourself credit for.”
“Thanks. I—”
But she was already walking away, back to her ship.
13
Inside the control room of the Cauldrons of Dagda, Penn Pierre noticed a vessel appear in the radar hologram. It was dozens of times larger than the Athens
Destroyers that used to patrol the area. The Hannibal and their Juggernaut had arrived.
Turning on the microphone for the facilities communication system, he said, “The invaders are here. They mean to leave no one alive. I’m now disengaging every security feature in the facility. You have free rein to go wherever you want. Face them in the yard or in the halls or your cells, but wherever you face them, have no doubt they are coming. There’s a weapons cache in room L-234 and another in R-017. Both will be unlocked.” He was about to sign off when he thought of one last thing to add. “Good luck to each of you.”
He switched the system off and walked to the far side of the room. A series of buttons he pressed in a sequence would release the locks on every cell door, security door, and stopgap bulkhead. He pressed another pair of buttons to open the weapons caches.
He retrieved one of the MB Assault Blaster rifles in the corner of the room, carried it to his chair, then watched as the Juggernaut came into sight above the planet.
It was impossibly large. An Athens Destroyer at the same distance would have been nothing more than a tiny dot in the sky. The Juggernaut, even from space, could be seen as a massive, oblong giant. Four specks of light appeared from the vessel and began making their way toward the planet’s surface.
Pierre waited there, hoping his inmates would make him proud in their final moments.
14
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Talbot said, trying to keep up with Lancelot.
Lancelot looked over at him and asked what he was referring to.
“All of it.” He motioned back toward the direction of the public square. “As far as they know, you’re a Carthagen who appeared out of nowhere carrying the head of the most wanted criminal in the galaxy.”
He laughed and told her that kids would grow up and tell the amazing story to their own children some day. Rather than leave immediately, Lancelot allowed herself to be convinced to remain on CamaLon for at least one more day so she could see the place that was considered the center of the Round Table.
She and Talbot walked across the fields of Aromath the Solemn because she wanted to see the land Vere had enjoyed walking over many years earlier. As they walked, Talbot mentioned that it had also been the site of the battle to defeat the Vonnegan Empire once and for all.
During the silences he feared she might compliment him for taking action and destroying the Solar Carrier. It wasn’t an act, no matter how necessary it had been, that he ever wanted to be congratulated for. However, not only did she not congratulate him, she scarcely spoke at all. When she did, it wasn’t to focus on his past but on his future.
“What does the son of the great General Reiser plan on doing with the rest of his life?”
It wasn’t how he wanted her to refer to him, and he guessed this was her brand of sarcasm. And from the way she asked, he got the impression that she had an answer for him but wasn’t ready yet to say what it was.
“No idea. I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”
When they got over the second hill leading away from the capital wall and were out of sight of anyone else, she finally took off her Carthagen helmet and let her long blond hair fall over her armor. When Talbot looked over at her and laughed, she asked what was so funny.
“A Carthagen arriving here wouldn’t want anyone to know they were a member of the race that ambushed our fleet. You do the exact opposite—you don’t want anyone to know you’re human.”
“Human or Carthagen, I was part of the group that ambushed the invading army.”
He almost told her they weren’t invaders but he guessed that was what she wanted him to say. She knew he hadn’t agreed with the campaign and probably wouldn’t defend the fleet’s appearance in the Orleans asteroid field.
When he didn’t take the bait, she eventually tapped a finger against her helmet and added, “It’s for comfort more than anything. Anytime I wasn’t in my private chamber I had it on. It became my identity.”
“As a Carthagen?”
“As a warrior.”
The further they got from the capital wall, the more they revealed about their lives. He told her about not wanting to be in the academy or following in his father’s footsteps. He related the conversation he had with his father during the return trip in which he said he was no longer interested in being a soldier.
“How did he take it?”
Talbot shrugged. “He was disappointed. Parents have a lot of expectations for their kids. Some fair, some not so much.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
She went on to explain how Arc-Mi-Die had murdered her family except for her father, who had been able to get as far as the Orleans asteroid field before BookKnow took her in, built her a suit of armor that would make everyone think a Carthagen was underneath it, and then raised her as best as he could.
“I don’t know what my father’s expectations for me would have been. Or my mother’s. Or anyone else’s.”
“It sounds like he wanted you to survive. And that’s what you did.”
The comment made her smile, which in turn made Talbot smile. After an hour they turned around. Facing civilization again, she put her helmet on.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked. “Where are you sleeping?”
“Aboard my vessel,” she said, her voice monotone and mechanical again.
“It’s odd talking to you when your voice sounds like that.”
She reached up and pressed a button underneath her chin. When she spoke next her voice was muffled but normal.
“My ship is the only place I’m comfortable.”
“Would you like company?”
His voice rose when he asked the question, and he was sure his face turned red. Her helmet swiveled to the side but through the dark lens of her visor he couldn’t see if she was offended or amused.
To make matters worse, he laughed as if joking, and said, “I mean, of course I’m in love, but that’s not why. I just thought you might want company.”
Another nervous laugh did nothing to make the silence less awkward.
She sighed and said, “And I thought I was the one without social graces after spending my life in an asteroid.”
She didn’t say no, though, and he took that as a victory.
15
Rather than break off in different directions across the lava planet, all four mechs headed straight for the Cauldrons of Dagda. Penn Pierre thought it likely that the deadly machines had sensors to search out life forms to destroy. With everyone else on Terror-Dhome already gone, the Hannibal would know they only had one remaining target.
“They will be here in thirty seconds,” he said into the facility comms system, guessing they would be the last words he would speak into it.
At the main console, he could choose from hundreds of holographic security feeds. He brought up twenty main views, including two angles of the lava yards, one of the mess hall, and one of the primary corridor leading to the prisoners’ cells. He watched in the hope he would get to see what his prisoners were capable of before the mechs came for him.
Above the facility, two of the mechs, one white with an ion bow and the other matte gray with a scythe, went toward the lava yard. The other two, a black mech with a scale in its hand and a reddish brown mech holding an ion sword, went toward the spaceport and the main entrance.
Pierre’s attention went to the pair of holographic feeds showing the lava yard. There, a Rakitick, a reptile twice as tall as a human, with spikes at the end of its tail, hissed and darted toward a large boulder, which it picked up and threw at the white mech. An ion arrow from the mech disintegrated the boulder. The next one forced the Rakitick to dart for cover. Penn had no doubt that the alien would reassess and find a more efficient way to harm the mech. After all, it was at the Cauldrons because it had killed officers and inmates at three different prisons in the galaxy.
A human with no hair and no eyebrows poked his head out from one of the prison tunnels leading to the
courtyard. The man, known as “the Butcher of Tillisdale,” fired shot after shot from a heavy assault blaster. Only half of the shots were directed at the mechs, however. The other half were aimed at anything else that moved. The Butcher shot a Vonnegan through the chest, laughed, then shot at the gray mech, then fired at a winged creature that was trying to get behind the mechs so as to have the element of surprise in whatever attack it had planned.
A Ragnor, an alien roughly the same height as a human but three times as wide, roared with anger at being threatened by the mechs. The Ragnor was at the Cauldrons because it had been unable to conform to even a high security prison’s rules. Once it went into a fit of rage, Penn knew there would be no stopping it. Without a weapon with which to reach the hovering mechs, the Ragnor reached a hand into the molten lava, scooped as much as he could, then hurled it at the mechs. Both mechs were able to avoid the lava but only barely. The Ragnor was not impervious to the intense heat of lava. In fact, its hand burned away to nothing. The beast was simply so angry at the disturbance that not even its own well-being mattered. It scooped its other hand into the lava and did the same thing. This time, some of the lava hit the gray mech’s hover platform, causing it to sizzle. The white mech turned, fired an ion arrow, and sent the Ragnor plunging backward into the lava seas.
Dozens of aliens streamed out of the tunnels, into the courtyard. Only a few were human. Four were Vonnegans. The rest were creatures of various sizes, shapes, and colors. Some had scales and others had feathers. Some were covered in natural defenses like shells or rock skin. Others had evolved with defensive tools such as claws and long fangs.
An alien with glowing blue skin and long white hair let out a hissing spit. The alien’s saliva was deadly and sprayed fifty feet into the air. The gray mech moved to the side, then brought its scythe down, sending a wave of energy down at the glowing alien. When the flash of light evaporated, the only thing left of the alien were bones and scraps of cloth.
A human and a Gthothch with a longstanding grudge ignored the mechs, found each other in the courtyard, and without security personnel to keep the peace, fought each other. A winged creature the size of a human infant found an alien that had stolen many of its meals and sank its claws into the other prisoner’s back.
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