by J. J. Green
“See what?”
She’d emerged from the secret passage on the other side of the perimeter wall. The rest was hazy, but she thought someone had grabbed her and thrown her onto the damp ground, covering her with their own body and putting out the fire engulfing her. As far as she could tell, only a short time had passed. The fighting was still going on within the mansion.
She needed to see what was happening. She needed to know that the person who had shot her would not survive. After the outrage that had been inflicted on the body of the Dwyr, her assailant could not be permitted to live.
“See...the battle.”
A flurry of whispers ran between her helpers.
“I...am...your...Dwyr,” she gasped.
“Yes, yes, Dwyr. Of course.”
She was lying on a stretcher, and she felt it being lifted up. The view overhead changed from the low canopy of trees to open sky and scudding clouds. A light rain sprinkled her face. Strains of fighting arrived on the wind: The fizz of pulse rifles firing, running, groans of injured soldiers, and then an explosion roared out.
“Now you aren’t inside, our soldiers are storming the mansion,” said the person attending her.
“Lift me up,” Kala said.
Murmurs came from those around her. She heard someone say, “I don’t know where to touch her.”
“Touch me anywhere, dammit! I must see.”
A hand slid under each of her shoulders and grasped her under her arms. The person’s touch was gentle, nevertheless she bit back a scream. As she was levered up, the fence bordering the estate grounds appeared in her view and in the distance stood the stone facade of the mansion. Smoke poured from the windows and flames flickered between the roof tiles.
A heavy firefight was taking place in the grounds. The figures were difficult to make out in the smoke, but the BA troops who had invaded her home seemed to be forcing their way out. The flash of pulse bolts was strongest around the open double doors of the front entrance.
A deep rumble sounded overhead like thunder heralding a storm.
No!
The person who had hurt her could not be allowed to get away. No one could defile her body and live.
The rumble grew louder until she seemed to feel its vibration pass through her. A shape darted above, casting her momentarily into shadow, and heated air blasted down.
The BA soldiers’ ship was returning to take them to safety.
She struggled to move, despite the pain.
“Please, Dwyr, you must remain still.”
Frustration and rage gnawing at her, she had no choice except to watch as her soldiers fell to the bolts spurting from the ship’s guns. Then the vessel landed, and the BA troops’ firing intensified, compelling her own to remain behind cover. As the ship’s ramp extended, some of the enemy ran from the house and created two straggly lines. Between them, their wounded were helped or carried to the vessel, followed by others who had waited inside. Her soldiers attacked and hit some of the troops in the lines, but if one fell another took his place. Finally, the defenders broke and ran for the ship.
In less than a couple of minutes, they were all aboard. The ramp retracted, and the vessel leapt into the sky with a deafening roar. Soon, all that was left was scorched earth, a burning mansion, and her own defeated troops.
The hands holding her upper body upright carefully lowered her to the stretcher. Kala let out a cry, but it was not due to the agony of her burns—fury and a dreadful sense of impotence battled within her. Never had she been so outraged or felt so powerless.
“We’ll take you to the treatment center now, Dwyr. They can give you something to help you sleep while we tend to your injuries.”
Kala didn’t reply. As her stretcher was lifted and she was borne from the scene, her mind was already elsewhere. Before, the BA had merely been an annoyance that stood in the way of her plans and that had happened to harbor the individual who posed a threat to the EAC. Now, it harbored someone else, someone who had actively harmed her person, violating the sanctity of her being.
The Britannic Alliance had become an object of her deepest hatred. She would not rest until every last member of it was crushed and the one who had hurt her was made to pay for the crime. The deaths of Hennessy and Montague would be sweet bliss in comparison.
Chapter Forty-Five
In a strange twist of circumstances, it had been the AP who had come to their rescue, Taylan discovered when she woke up later, in the sick bay once again.
Their battleships had successfully held off the EAC attack on the Valiant, allowing the Cornflower to return to her safely and both vessels to escape. And though the mission had failed in that they hadn’t captured or killed Dwyr Orr or taken back Jamaica, the rumor was BA Space Fleet was reconsidering its decision to secede. There was a chance it would try to oust the EAC from the Caribbean and re-establish a strong foothold for the Alliance on Earth.
It was as if the effect of Arthur’s speech was spreading.
She didn’t remember any of the retreat from the Dwyr’s mansion. As soon as the medic had seen her wounds, he’d dosed her to her eyeballs. After that, the first thing she remembered was the sick bay doc complaining at her for screwing up all the great surgery she’d done on her back. She learned the spike Dwyr Orr had thrust into her had pierced her vertebrae and nearly severed her spinal cord.
Abacha came to see her every day for a game of xiangqi. They spoke of many things, but neither of them mentioned the conversations they’d had while stuck in the desperate situation on Jamaica. Taylan didn’t think they would ever speak of it again. Her friend seemed back to his normal self. She thought it was only that he’d become infected with the general malaise of selfishness and apathy that had generally affected the Britannic Alliance.
It was good to see him so regularly, and she was grateful for his visits, but there was someone she’d also expected who didn’t arrive for so long, she thought he’d forgotten all about her. Then, one night, after visiting hours were over, he snuck in. The medic was in the office and the other patients ignored him, part of the subterfuge.
“Hey,” said Wright, “how are you doing? I would have come before, but I’ve been busy.”
“Hey.” Taylan tried to sit up.
“Do you want some help?” He adjusted her pillows and helped to lift her to a more upright position. When she was comfortable and he’d sat down he said, “How are you feeling? Not too doped up on painkillers, I hope. I don’t want you turning insubordinate again.”
“Will I be excused if I am?”
“Of course not, I just like to prepare myself.”
“As it happens, I’m not. The doc is weaning me off them.”
“Then you are in pain?”
“It isn’t too bad, honestly.”
“Good.” He rubbed the top of his head.
“What’s been happening?” she asked. “Abacha won’t tell me much. He says he doesn’t want me to worry about anything. Is there something I should worry about?”
“I wouldn’t say so. It’s mostly positive news. We seem to have set a good example to the rest of the Space Fleet. And Colbourn says they’ve realized that becoming an independent entity wasn’t very practical. Unless they plan on joining the AP and leaving the solar system, they’re always going to rely on Earth for food and energy. Rations won’t last them forever. So it’s either make nice with the crazy witch queen, or take back our lands.”
Taylan sighed. “Starting with Jamaica I suppose?”
“I think so, but I don’t know for sure yet.” His gaze dropped to her necklace. “Or it might be the BI. It is the original homeland. I think Arthur would like that too.”
“Yeah, what’s been happening with him? I haven’t seen him. Is he okay?”
“He’s another one who’s been busy. He’s a popular guy. Word got out to the other ships about our unusual passenger, and now everyone wants to meet him. There’s something about him, some sort of...uh...”
“I
think it’s called charisma.”
“Yeah, that’s it. He’s got it in bucketloads.”
“Does he still think he’s dreaming?”
“He hasn’t mentioned it for a while. He might be trying not to think about it.”
“It’s going to be hard for him,” said Taylan, “when he finally realizes, I mean. His entire world is nothing but ruins and dust, all his family and friends dead and mostly forgotten. His language, his culture, all of it, just...gone.”
“Yes, but he’s already learned a new language and made friends. In time, he should be okay.”
“So do you believe me now, about who he is?”
“I’m still reserving judgment.”
Taylan rolled her eyes.
“Does it really matter?” Wright went on. “Whether he is an ancient king or not, he’s changed things around here. That’s what counts.”
She decided she would have to give up on him ever agreeing with her about Arthur. “Who are his friends?”
“Well, you, for one. He talks about you all the time, telling everyone he meets about an excellent female fighter he knows. I wouldn’t be surprised if he offered to make you a knight. And he loves the cat. He takes it everywhere with him.” Wright frowned. “I didn’t know we had a cat aboard. I wonder where it came from.”
“No idea,” she replied, and then she yawned.
“I’m keeping you up,” he said. “I should go.”
“No, I’m not tired. Don’t leave. It’s nice to talk.”
“Yeah. Beats yelling at each other, anyway. But I do need to go. I have reports to write.”
“Okay, if you have to.”
A look passed between them, and Taylan was reminded of that moment on the Cornflower, just before they landed in Jamaica. As before, she couldn’t guess what he was thinking.
“Goodnight, then,” she said.
But the major was no longer looking at her. He’d become distracted, listening to a comm. He rose halfway to his feet, and as he continued to listen, he sat down again. Then his mouth fell open.
“What is it?” asked Taylan.
Still he didn’t reply, paying attention to the message. Suddenly, he leapt up and strode quickly away.
“Major,” she called out, “what’s wrong? Where are you going?”
Were they about to be attacked by the EAC? Or had the AP switched sides again? She hadn’t gotten around to asking him what was happening with them.
“It’s the Fearless,” he replied as he left the sick bay.
The Fearless? What did he mean? Hadn’t that been the ship that was swallowed by the mysterious black cloud?
He reappeared in the doorway, heading in the opposite direction. “She’s been found, out in the Asteroid Belt.”
Then he was gone.
Taylan and Wright’s story continues in...
THE FEARLESS
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Author's Notes
King Arthur in outer space? A weird combination of ideas, right?
I can’t remember how old I was when I first heard about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. I think I must have been so young I wasn’t forming proper memories. Arthur and his knights have been embedded in my mind all my life, strongly entwined with my sense of ‘Britishness’ and even a little, I suppose, to my identity.
What I do remember from my childhood is watching Bing Crosby in A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. Later, I read T.S. White’s The Once and Future King and Marion Bradley’s The Mists of Avalon several times. These are the versions of Arthur’s story that stick out in my memory, but I’m sure I had many more encounters with the myths as I was growing up.
Later still, as my interest grew, I studied versions that were closer to the original tales, such as Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, author unknown. Tolkien fans might be interested to hear he wrote a translation of Sir Gawain’s story. The Victorian revival of the myth produced more works I’ve studied, like The Lady of Shallot. Even now I can vividly see the moment “The mirror crack'd from side to side”. And, of course, it’s impossible to discuss renditions of Arthur’s story without mentioning Monty Python and the Holy Grail.
As a young woman, I visited Tintagel in Cornwall, long-rumoured to be the site of Camelot, though, assuming Arthur existed, it’s doubtful he lived there. Having said that, recent archaeological investigation has found that Tintagel was probably the site of a thriving community, trading goods from far afield in the ancient world. So, who knows? It’s easy to see why Tintagel inspired the imaginations of King Arthur enthusiasts. The coast there is rocky and wild, and the sea has carved caves in the cliffs that are perfect for Merlin to hide in.
Did Arthur exist? We will probably never know for sure, but as Wright states towards the end of The Valiant, it doesn’t really matter. It isn’t the truth of his existence that’s important, but what he represents.
I admit that, at first glance, combining Arthurian mythology and science fiction might seem a strange endeavour. It certainly seemed strange to me when the idea popped into my head two or three years ago, but the more I thought about it the more sense it made. Science fiction explores concepts about the future of humanity, what challenges we’ll meet and how we’ll overcome them; it shows us at our worst and our best. The characters often win through in these situations because they hold onto the values that Arthur embodies: Courage honour, loyalty, integrity, and determination.
When we do finally make it to other stars—I firmly believe one day we will—it’s going to be the behaviour the Arthurian tales illustrate that helps to get us there. I wanted to write a series that celebrated those values. As to whether I’ve succeeded, I’ll leave that to you to judge.
A few words about the origin of some of the names in the Star Legend series: Nantgarw-y-garth isn’t a real place, it’s an amalgamation of two Welsh place names, and neither of them are purported to be the site of Arthur’s entombment. Welsh village names that appear later in the book are actual places, but, I’m sad to say, I’ve never been to them. I planned a trip to the Welsh Marches before the dreaded virus struck, but that’s been postponed. Perhaps I’ll make it there before I finish the series.
‘Dwyr’ is inspired by the Druid traditions, and the ‘Ua’ of Ua Talman is based on the old Irish meaning, ‘descendant of’. His ships, the Bres, Banba and Balor are named after characters in Irish mythology. Though Taylan is Welsh, I gave her this unisex Turkish name because it means tall, skinny person as well as elegant and gracious.
If you’re familiar with Arthurian legend, you may be able to spot some characters from those stories that appear in The Valiant under other names. I’m not going to state them here for obvious reasons. As the series progresses, more of the old favourites will make their appearances, again under other names.
I hope you enjoyed The Valiant and will go on to enjoy the rest of the Star Legend series. If you have time, please leave an honest review, and if you would like to say hi or meet other readers who like my work, pop over to Starship JJ Green Shipmates. As well as the rest of the crew, you might see the ship’s cat there. He wrote a small portion of The Valiant, but I had to edit it out: ===========================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================================
34eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
(Please don’t tell him I deleted it—he does revenge hairballs.)
If you’re interested in reading more about Arthurian myths, I recommend all the sources I mentioned above and The Holy Kingdom
, by Adrian Gilbert, Alan Wilson and Baram Blackett. The authors make some plausible arguments that there were two Arthurs, one related by marriage to the Romans, and the second a genuine king of what is now Wales. And if you’re interested in Britain during the Dark Ages (which were not really dark), I recommend Simon Roper’s Youtube channel, though he focuses mainly on the Anglo-Saxons, who were the people Arthur probably fought.
Jenny Green
Cambridge, U.K.
November 2020
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Copyright © Nov 2020 J.J. Green
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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