The Juggernaut faced little resistance after departing Greater Mazuma. A handful of small spacejets and fighters still carried out hit and run attacks on the enormous vessel, but there were fewer of them and they consisted primarily of pilots with death wishes or those who had more concern over protecting their loved ones on EndoKroy than actual skill as a pilot.
A retired Vonnegan pilot, seventy-one years old, had reported for duty despite not having served for decades. Unfamiliar with the latest version of the Thunderbolt, he lasted less than a minute before a Hannibal mech destroyed his ship.
A pair of pirates in modified fighters lasted twice as long but the result was the same. One of the fighters broke into pieces, not because it was hit by the enemy, but because it had been so poorly maintained. A fuel hose separated from the main line, sending flames spraying inside the craft. The other fighter underestimated the size of the Juggernaut and was unable to get around its side before one of the white mech’s ion arrows blew it out of space.
For additional defense, a minefield had been laid with nearly two hundred ion explosives floating in space. It wasn’t much of a deterrence but it was worth trying. The Juggernaut approached the minefield without changing directions. Two minutes before it ran into the first mine, the Juggernaut launched a pair of projectiles, both of which raced through space ahead of the giant ship.
One of the projectiles exploded into a circle of light just before the first ion mine. The second projectile erupted into a portal on the far side of the minefield. Without slowing down or altering course, the Juggernaut disappeared into the first portal and reappeared a moment later out of the second portal, having skipped the entire field of explosives.
Undeterred, it headed directly for EndoKroy.
91
From across the hangar floor, Vere watched Quickly and Lancelot talking. The scuffle earlier had also been disappointing to her. She hoped Lancelot would be able to convince each member of the group to set aside their differences and fight the Hannibal. If the outburst had been witnessed by the Word, they too would view the group with a lack of hope. Vere guessed the Word would view the confrontation as exactly why mortal concerns weren’t worth getting involved with.
She closed her eyes. An expanse of darkness stretched in all directions. With her breathing controlled, she began to feel a presence near her. She thought of an entire alien race building the Excalibur Armada only to leave it as a warning for the rest of the galaxy. A moment later she envisioned a portion of that ancient fleet being used to defeat the Juggernaut.
We can win, she thought to the Word. We can defeat the Hannibal and live in peace.
Surely the Word knew of her plan already because they already saw her future and the futures of everyone she knew. Still, she envisioned each part of the plan being enacted, imagined the Juggernaut being defeated and the mechs destroyed. Through the series of mental images, she hoped the Word could understand her goal. Another image came forth. The Round Table existing in peace.
The next thought that arrived in her mind wasn’t her own.
Mortals don’t know how to accept peace. If one enemy is defeated, they will create a new one. There will never be an end to war.
It was true that violence and battles stretched throughout all of galactic history. A significant portion of her schooling had been spent learning about the ancient battles, the first space conflicts, the wars between galactic rulers. It was also true that the creation of the Round Table had done nothing to stop giant ships of war from soaring off into space to launch proton torpedoes, fire ion cannons, and shoot streams of lasers. Like the Word said, one enemy always gave way to another.
We learn from our mistakes, she thought. I know it doesn’t seem that way all the time, but we do. Be patient with us. Help us against the Hannibal and let us prove to you that we can be better.
She pictured a scenario in her head where the sectors that had come together to rid themselves of bloodthirsty tyrants and emperors and kings were finally able to live in peace.
All we need is a little bit of help, she thought.
The response she got was not as optimistic as she would have liked.
How many times have people such as yourself and the one you call Mortimous asked us to intervene? It never ends.
She didn’t argue with them. She didn’t tell them it would be the last time anyone would see loved ones facing insurmountable odds. Instead, she envisioned Lancelot and the others enacting her plan. The mechs were defeated. The Juggernaut was sent away from EndoKroy. The Round Table was renewed by a leader who understood Vere’s original goal but also understood its limitations.
However, the entire scenario playing out in her head could only occur if the Word offered some assistance.
92
After drawing his Meursault and facing the other Carthagen that Lancelot brought with her, Talbot had spent the rest of the day sulking. He was disappointed for a different reason than Quickly or Vere. He didn’t mind Traskk wanting vengeance or even Swordnew drawing his weapons. He was angry at the way Lancelot had handled the situation.
After she stepped between them and ensured they went their separate ways, Talbot had been sure she would enter his room, tell him she understood why he acted the way he had, and then wrap her arms around him. The only thing he had wanted to do ever since seeing her last was to hold her again. Instead, she had stood in the open doorway of his quarters and demanded he explain his behavior. His hands, ready to embrace her, had instead dangled by his sides. Rather than spending time with her, he was being chastised for drawing his sword on an alien that had killed his fellow soldiers and was advancing on him in an aggressive manner.
“But...” he had said, knowing even as he spoke that he sounded weak and silly. What else could he say, though? Given the circumstances, everything else he wanted to say would have been clearly inappropriate. There was no way he could confess how much he had missed her, how much she consumed his every waking thought. Especially not when she refused to even take her helmet off or sit down or touch him.
It was the perfect example of why he had always felt adrift. He was not merely ill-equipped to lead a mission; he couldn’t take control of anything in his life. His father would have known what to do when confronted by Swordnew, just as he would have known what to say to Lancelot as she stood in the doorway. But Talbot, always happier to be alone with his thoughts, never feeling like he truly belonged, had failed once again to rise to the occasion.
“Well?” Lancelot had said.
He hated himself for what he was going to say next but he couldn’t help it.
“I missed you,” he said.
Immediately, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. His mother had told him once that he spoke from his heart because he was an artist and couldn’t help it. His father had been nice enough to remain quiet and not contradict her.
Miracle of miracles, however, his words actually had an impact. Lancelot sighed and reached up to her helmet, unfastened it, then set it under an arm. She crossed the room, allowing the automatic door to slide shut so they had privacy.
“Listen,” she said softly, a foot away from him.
In her Carthagen armor she towered over him and he had to look straight up to see her but he didn’t mind. She reached out with her lower hands and touched his face and told him she missed him too.
His heart raced. He smiled.
But then she added, “None of that matters right now, though.”
The pain in his chest must have seized him the way the ion daggers had pierced his father in the alleyway. He opened his mouth to offer a rebuke. Of course it mattered that they wanted to see each other again, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.
He knew, though, that nothing would matter in a couple days if they didn’t stop the Hannibal. That was what the resolve in her eyes told him, and that was what she wanted him to understand above all else.
“Listen,” she said, still looking down at him. “I spent my li
fe trying to figure out who I was. Do you know how nice it is to have found someone who understands each aspect of what makes me who I am? I’m not going to give that up. But—”
“I know,” he said. There was never a time in his life when he felt such a tremendous sense of happiness and sadness at the same time. He finished her sentence: “But if we don’t defeat the Hannibal, none of this will matter.”
She returned his smile and nodded.
“I promise you, I’ll see you again after this is all over.”
“But how can you know?”
Instead of answering, she lowered her front two legs so her knees touched the ground and her torso leaned forward. Then she kissed him.
93
After the skirmish in the cruiser’s hangar, it took Traskk longer than anyone else to calm down. He gathered that the other Carthagen and the human also didn’t like each other, but neither of them had experienced the pain of having their arms, legs, and tail cut off. Upon seeing the Fianna, nothing had mattered except doing extreme harm to the person who had taken Vere prisoner and killed Fastolf and Morgan.
The blind rage that had come over him was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The brawls in Eastcheap had been plentiful, but they had always arisen out of his inborn delight in aggression. To be a Basilisk was to be violent, to tear things apart with claws and fangs. It was his nature. There had also been many life-or-death fights. The one in the streets outside Eastcheap to help Lancelot. The one at the Cauldrons of Dagda to free Vere. There had been times in each that he had let loose a sobering roar and given in to his urge to decimate other living things, but even this violence had been relatively controlled. Even killing Scrope had been more about the pleasure of evening a score than losing all control.
Faced with a Fianna, the representation of great harm to him and his friends, he lost his wits. He didn’t even remember tackling Lancelot or trying to reach past her helmet to rip the Fianna’s face off. It took time and quiet for him to begin to understand the extent of what he had done.
Quickly visited him in an isolated boarding room and recounted the events.
“Buddy,” the pilot said, patting Traskk on the shoulder, “If Lancelot’s suit didn’t give her all that strength, you would’ve killed her just to get to Philo. I’ve never seen anything like that.” He offered a half-hearted smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same side.”
Traskk cooed pitiably, not because of Quickly’s reproach or because he might have hurt Lancelot, but because he felt he was letting Vere down. She had told Lancelot to recruit Traskk and instead of helping to defeat an approaching enemy he was causing more problems than he was worth.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Quickly said. “We’re all here for the same reason. I’m sure there are no hard feelings.”
The more Traskk remembered the disapproving look Vere had offered when her friends disappointed her, the more he wanted to turn away from Quickly so the pilot couldn’t see him sniffle.
The sadness that weighed him down changed to curiosity when he saw what was happening outside the viewport. Dozens of small transports were positioning themselves in space around EndoKroy. Each one had a team of three or four people in space armor drifting near their vessel. In the distance, a large ship approached and he could tell from its shine that it was part of the Excalibur Armada.
Quickly said, “They’re helping get Lancelot’s plan into motion, although I guess it’s actually Vere’s plan.”
Traskk hissed a series of noises even though he knew Quickly wouldn’t understand him.
Quickly shrugged and offered his best guess at a response. “All I know is she said they need a good pilot.”
94
Hours after tensions had been quelled among the group, Lancelot called a meeting. She glanced around the room at the various characters who had assembled to join the cause. Traskk stood on one side of the room. Philo, dressed in the Fianna’s armor, was on the other side. Swordnew stood next to Philo, only because he was slightly more comfortable with the Fianna than with any of the others, and that was only because he had already been around the Fianna on their trip to EndoKroy. Quickly sat in the middle of the room. From their faces and body language, Lancelot could tell that each of them was thinking the same thing.
This is it? Just the six of us?
“Vere is working on getting us more help,” she said in an attempt to raise their spirits. “And we already have the Carthagen technology that Swordnew provided.” She nodded to him so the others knew to appreciate his contribution. “And, of course, the Excalibur ships that Talbot has requisitioned.”
No one spoke. Each of them stared at her, hoping she had something else to add that would explain why they stood a better chance than the Round Table fleet or the weaponized prisoners at the Cauldrons of Dagda. Instead, she told them what was expected of each of them. She explained where they would fight and the support they would have. She gave details on how the Carthagen technology would be used, the purpose of the Excalibur ships, and the way they would ultimately defeat the Juggernaut.
When she was done, no one said a word. Philo remained at attention. Swordnew, having been taught not to contradict the leader of the Carthagen warriors and understanding that Lancelot had inherited that role in this new group as well, waited to be dismissed to begin preparing himself for the battle. Quickly looked down at his hands as if willing them to defy his own brain and take his ship back home to Enid. Talbot gazed at her with an expression Lancelot hoped the others wouldn’t notice. Traskk, a fighter through and through, growled in anticipation.
The door to the meeting room slid to the side and a young officer in the uniform of a Round Table ensign said, “Sorry to interrupt. We have reports that the Juggernaut is only two hours away.”
Lancelot looked to Talbot for a response. “Reiser, how much more time do the crews need for the preparations?”
“He looked down at a small device in the palm of his hand. “We’re almost there. But any extra time would be appreciated.”
Lancelot nodded and turned back to the ensign. “Tell your captain to deploy a final round of deterrents.”
“Yes, sir,” the ensign said.
Lancelot finished by telling them that they were about to face the most important battle in their lives. She told them she couldn’t guarantee what the outcome would be, but if they fought together they could defeat the Hannibal.
As she spoke, a pair of Athens Destroyers, a Solar Carrier, and an Omega-Class cargo freighter fired up their engines. All four ships began to move away from EndoKroy to intercept the Juggernaut.
95
Back on Edsall Dark, more people than ever considered abandoning their homes. If the battle at EndoKroy had the same outcome as that of Greater Mazuma, The Hannibal would continue across the galaxy and millions of people would need to pack their belongings and find somewhere else to live. Knowing there wouldn’t be room for everyone aboard the fleeing vessels, people started to make preparations to leave sooner than their neighbors. Whispers grew of the urgency to get to the spaceports before the frigates and cruisers were all full.
Just as they were unable to come to any consensus on other matters, the representatives of the Round Table weren’t sure how to react to this predicament either. Some suggested the proceedings be held on another planet until after the Hannibal threat was resolved. Others called these people out for their cowardice and shamed them for refusing to lead. A few still insisted Talbot Reiser should be arrested after threatening a representative. With more important matters to discuss, these people were either ignored or else told to be quiet.
Every other galactic issue paled in comparison to what was happening in the Mardigan sector and yet the response to that issue had been decided for them by Lancelot and Talbot. Still, many of the representatives insisted on acting as though they were discussing the possible solutions to the matter.
After the successive defeats of the Round Table’s flagships, the prospect of defeating the Jug
gernaut above EndoKroy did not seem likely. No one in the Great Hall was willing to admit this in anything louder than a whisper, however, and even then only to their most trusted confidants.
When observers first noticed that some of the seats around the table were vacant, everyone knew what had happened. Those representatives had decided to flee the planet before the Hannibal arrived. A few were caught in the act—boarding vessels at the spaceport. Each said it was critical that they return to their home planet to tell the people there what was being done to protect them. Of course, this could have been done by means of a holographic feed, but the representatives were adamant that in such times it was important to be there for their people. One by one, more seats around the Round Table were empty.
96
Captain Munrun knew the four ships sent to meet the Juggernaut weren’t going to destroy it or even convince it to turn around. After the sound defeat of much larger Round Table battle groups, a different tactic was needed. The pair of Athens Destroyers, the Solar Carrier, and the Omega-Class cargo freighter were there to sacrifice themselves in order to give the teams at EndoKroy time to finish their preparations. To that end, Captain Munrun was the officer in charge of ensuring the confrontation was a success.
The three flagships contained skeleton crews. Instead of hundreds of officers and personnel on each vessel, there were only eight. The Omega-Class cargo freighter had even less. Its lone crew member was seventy years old and had retired from the Vonnegan forces more than a decade earlier. The officer, a former colonel, outranked Munrun and had been offered command of the mission. Old and gray and having seen her fair share of death among the stars, she deferred to Captain Munrun.
Munrun didn’t mind how many officers he commanded or the circumstances of that post. After years of wishing to be the senior officer of a flagship, he finally had his chance.
Because of the nature of their mission, everyone aboard the flagships wore space armor. One of Munrun’s first tasks after departing EndoKroy was to personally inspect his crew’s suits and make sure they were ready for use. Their instructions were clear: do what they could to slow or damage the Juggernaut and then evacuate the flagships so a transport could come by and pick them up after the Hannibal had moved through the area.
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