The Space Lore Boxed Set 2: Space Lore Volumes 4-6

By Chris Dietzel

Welcome to Space Lore, where Arthurian legend meets Star Wars. Epic science fiction will never be the same.

You can now get the second trilogy of Space Lore books (volumes 4-6) all in one master edition. Each book will transport you to a world that combines mythology with Sci Fi action and adventure.

See why critics have said:

"Dietzel proves a master at swashbuckling space opera." Kirkus

"Great characters, great action, great plot...get this book!" Moderator of the largest Star Wars fan group on Facebook

"An amazing sci-fi journey into fun. A must read for galactic war sci-fi readers." The Full-Time Book Reviewer

"Stirring sci-fi action that should appeal to fans who applaud the introduction "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away."" Kirkus Reviews

"An absolutely wonderful Sci-Fi adventure." The Quilting Tangent

"Nothing in this tale was disappointing, from the great world building, to the vivid battle scenes, to the depth and heart of the central characters." Amazon Top 100 Reviewer

Contents:
Lancelot - Space Lore IV - In the years since the Round Table was formed, a campaign began to spread its message throughout the galaxy. Most planets willingly join, but others are hesitant. Deep inside the Cartha sector, the course of history will forever be altered, not only because the Carthagens are a cunning and deadly species unlike anything the Round Table forces have met before, but because they are led by Lancelot, renowned as the greatest warrior in all of the galaxy.

The Sword In The Stone - Space Lore V - The warlord Arc-Mi-Die continues to throw the galaxy into chaos with his unique brand of crazed attacks. A warrior, shrouded in mystery, goes in search of the deadly lunatic. Back on Edsall Dark, Julian Reiser returns as a hero. He is even given the legendary Sword in the Stone. It is said that whoever possesses the sword will be the next great ruler. However, some people understand that the purpose of the Round Table was to do away with such leaders. Will General Reiser help bring about the change that the Round Table sorely needs or will he become the next galactic emperor?

Avalon - Space Lore VI - The Round Table is on the brink of civil war. Meanwhile, the Hannibal and their enormous Juggernaut continue their march across space. Nothing can stop them. It's up to Lancelot to do what no one else can: defeat the approaching enemy once and for all. But to do so she will have to unite a band of the galaxy's most feared warriors, all of whom want to kill each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Dietzel
• Release date: May 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463246351

Chris Dietzel

Chris graduated from Western Maryland College (McDaniel College). He currently lives in Florida. His dream is to write the same kind of stories that have inspired him over the years. His short stories have been published in Temenos, Foliate Oak, and Down in the Dirt. His novels have been featured on the Science Fiction Spotlight, been required reading at the university level, and have been turned into award-winning audiobooks produced by Podium Publishing. Outside of writing, Dietzel is a huge fan of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) and mixed martial arts (MMA). He trained in BJJ for ten years, earning the rank of brown belt, and went 2-0 in amateur MMA fights before an injury ended his participation in contact sports.

Book preview

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidence.

LANCELOT, Copyright 2018 by Chris Dietzel. All rights reserved.

Published in the United States by Watch The World End Publications.

ISBN-13: 978-1722120085

ISBN-10: 1722120088

Click or Visit: http://www.ChrisDietzel.com

Cover Design: Loic Denoual

Cover Typography: TrueNotDreams Design

Editor: D.L. MacKenzie

Author Photo: Jodie McFadden

Illustrations: This book contains concept art based on various aspects of the story. For each design, an artist was given a basic description and then allowed to create their vision of that scene, character, etc. Artist biographies can be found at the end of the book.

Lancelot

Space Lore IV

Chris Dietzel

1

The brilliant white ring of energy floated in space, contained within a loop of three hundred and sixty massive interconnected cylinders. From a distance, each cylinder in the galactic portal appeared to be the size of a small Llyushin fighter, but anyone who approached closer for the first time inevitably gasped at their enormous scale. They were larger than a starjet. Much larger. Each was comparable to a King-class frigate.

The blaze of energy inside resembled a flat sun, with a metal frame around it. Its immensity caused some children on field trips to cry the first time they saw one close up, even if they had seen holographic versions in classrooms. It was easy to imagine drowning in the ocean of energy that stretched for miles and miles, an abyss of light. Many farmers and day workers refused to believe an object could actually be that large until they left their home worlds and got a chance to ride out into space and see one for themselves. For these people, the colossal starships that lifted off from landing pads on their way back out into space had to be the largest things ever made by human or alien hands. It seemed absurd that a Class-3 Frigate, larger than the fields that the shepherds tended their flocks on, could pass through the mammoth portal along with many other ships just like it.

The portal in the Cartha sector was no different, even though, for those living on Edsall Dark, the Cartha sector was considered to be a distant region of space. The Thurndorian sector was beyond the large swath of galaxy that had once been known as the Vonnegan Empire. Past that was the 16-D-10 sector, known for its pair of collapsing stars and vast asteroid fields. Only after a ship made its way to the far edge of that sector would it begin to approach the Cartha sector. Almost no one on Edsall Dark even knew of anyone who had visited that region of space before.

It was through this enormous energy field at the edge of the Cartha sector that an HC Ballistic Cruiser appeared. The ship’s black metal was reminiscent of the fleet Kaiser Doom had once taken into battle. After the flagship had completely emerged from the white light, its tinder walls slid away to reveal the vessel’s windows and ports. The ship adjusted course slightly and began heading toward the nearest planet.

A moment later, the prow of another vessel began to appear through the portal, a traditional dull silver matte flagship which was also differentiated from the HC Ballistic cruiser’s hard edges by its rounded command deck. As more of the ship came through the portal, it became clear that the second flagship was a Solar Carrier. It took an entire minute for the ship to emerge from the portal. After it was clear of the ring of energy, it too raised its tinder walls. The Solar Carrier adjusted heading to match the course of the first ship.

It did not fire its laser cannons at the vessel ahead of it. Nor did the HC Ballistic Cruiser unload any of its proton torpedoes, laser cannons, or any other part of its arsenal on the Solar Carrier. Instead, the two ships simply continued into the Cartha Sector.

Another vessel began to appear through the portal. This one had hard edges like the first ship, but was of a lighter variety of metal than even the Solar Carrier. The visible portion of the vessel steadily widened from being a point at the fore of the ship, growing thicker and thicker as more of the flagship emerged from the portal. An Athens Destroyer.

As soon as it was all the way through the portal, it too raised its tinder walls. Once the metal panels were up, the Destroyer adjusted heading slightly to point at the Solar Carrier ahead of it. The blue light of its engines darkened as more power was sent to its thrusters.

This ship also refrained from firing on either vessel ahead of it. Nor did the Solar Carrier try to evade the Athens Destroyer, set its own weapons systems to target the ship behind it, or even raise its shields.

Behind them, another Solar Carrier appeared through the energy field, then another Athens Destroyer, a Flying Fortress, a Havoc Gunship, a Hellship. Twelve flagships in all, two of each model. They were all roughly the same size as the others and contained similar weaponry, although each ship also had design features and capabilities, both offensive and defensive, that set it apart from the other ships in the formation.

After appearing through the portal, each vessel raised its tinder walls and adjusted its course to follow the ship in front of it. The result was a caravan of flagships that had formerly belonged to the most prominent kingdoms in the galaxy but which now were all part of one fleet.

The forces of the Round Table had made their way from one side of the galaxy to the other, but not to wage war. This time, they brought an offering of peace.

2

Inside the HC Ballistic Cruiser leading the Round Table fleet, Julian Reiser, general of the expedition, scanned the emptiness of space from his command deck.

Any signs of resistance? he asked.

The officer sitting nearest to him at one of the displays answered in the negative.

Good. Bring up Brigadiers Warwick and Exeter.

Aye, sir.

As the officer worked to contact the Solar Carrier and Athens Destroyer commanded by the two senior officers, Julian continued to stare out into space. Without being conscious of it, he ran the thumb and index finger of his right hand across the coarse hair at his chin.

Once upon a time, his beard had been a bright blond that matched his hair. Now, it was more silver than gold. Of course, he also hadn’t always possessed the wrinkles that now surrounded his eyes or the faint grinding in his shoulders that occurred when he raised his hands over his head.

On the far side of the command deck was a reflection of what he had looked like years earlier. Talbot, the ensign sitting at the weapons system console, looked exactly as Julian had twenty-five years earlier. His hair was curly and bright, the color of fresh yellow fruit. His neatly trimmed beard was vibrant and healthy. Not a hint of seniority in that face. No scars from past battles.

Julian turned away before Talbot or anyone else on the deck caught him looking at his son. Even without Julian showing preferential treatment, the rumors were bad enough. Julian knew that the other junior officers whispered that Talbot was only there because his father had selected him for the mission. That was the only explanation for someone freshly out of the academy being assigned to the lead Round Table vessel commanded by the general in charge of the expedition.

In fact, there was some truth to that. Julian had personally assigned his son to the HC Ballistic Cruiser he commanded. And yes, Julian had ensured that his son would be posted to a position that would test him and train him, groom him into one day taking the same role his father now held. But the preferential treatment ended there. He didn’t acknowledge Talbot when they were both on the command deck unless it was to ask a question or give an order, the same as he would treat anyone else. In the last year, the only two times he had spoken to Talbot while they were on duty had been to put the ensign in his place, once for not answering quickly enough if the cannon batteries were operating at full capacity, and the other time to scold him for yawning toward the end of his duty shift.

In that regard, Julian was actually tougher on his son than he was on the other officers; he had never chastised any of them for doing the same things. Every commanding officer knew it was normal to grow complacent and allow weariness to fester during extended space voyages. People who lived their entire lives on one planet liked to imagine space travel as an assortment of spectacular views of suns and exotic planets. Occasionally that did occur, but the vast majority of time spent out in the galaxy presented nothing but emptiness. For weeks at a time, the only thing the crew saw were glittering dots amongst an otherwise infinite void.

For the most part, Julian ignored Talbot until they were done with their shifts because that was how Julian demonstrated that his son wasn’t being treated differently than anyone else, even though they all knew he was by simply being there.

The comms officer said, Sir, holo links open in three, two, one. Then he nodded to Julian right before the holographic images of two senior officers formed in the air in front of the main command deck viewport.

Both men looked the same age as Julian, but that was where the similarities ended. The first hologram was of a man with only short stubble on his head. He had bushy black eyebrows, and a set of vertical scars ran from his right nostril to his right ear. He didn’t blink except when he looked to his side and then back again. Other than that, every part of his face was still. Anyone who didn’t know him and hadn’t seen the fury with which he fought might have confused the emotionless officer for an android.

Julian nodded to the brigadier. Hello, Warwick.

Warwick gave a slight nod of his own.

The second man had a smile big enough for all three of them. Other than a tiny line down the middle of one eyebrow, he had no visible battle scars. Like Julian, his hair was turning grey, but Exeter’s hair was fading from red rather than blond. Now, though, only hints of crimson remained as if a fire were dying out and only embers lingered. The man’s jaw kept moving as he chewed on something, and each time an officer did or said something near him on his own ship, he gave them a friendly wink even though they weren’t being picked up by the communication feed that was projected onto Julian’s deck. Because of this, Exeter seemed to be winking at Julian’s crew for no reason.

Exeter, thanks for joining us, Julian said.

Although Julian was in charge of the mission, the three men treated each other as relative equals. Each had graduated from the academy around the same time. Each had seen his fair share of battles and had known only victory, never defeat. It was because of this that Julian didn’t refer to their rank and didn’t want them to refer to him as general.

We’ll be at Cartha-6 in approximately two hours, Julian told them. Seeing as how we don’t expect any resistance, I’d like to send down a small party to personally deliver our message. If nothing else, it will give us an excuse to get off these ships for a little bit.

Sounds like a good time, Exeter said, his back teeth still grinding at whatever was in his mouth.

Warwick, still unblinking, said, I’d like to lead the rendezvous party.

I was thinking we would all go, Julian replied. Gather up some of your officers and when we get there, the three of us will go down and deliver our official greetings from the Round Table.

As he spoke, he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see if Talbot was looking his way. He had no way of knowing if his son would want to be one of the officers to accompany the party that would land on Cartha-6. What he did know was that it would look like he was playing favorites if he did bring his son along.

Their eyes—father’s and son’s—met for a split second, but then Talbot’s attention darted back to the weapons systems displays in front of him.

Focusing back on Warwick and Exeter, Julian wondered how his two friends would handle the same situation if they were in his shoes. Understandably, Talbot would be mortified if his father actually asked the question out loud in front of everyone. Anyway, Julian knew what their answers would be even without asking. Neither of them would have selected their son to accompany them to the planet’s surface because neither would have assigned their child to the same vessel they were in charge of in the first place. It was only Julian who had decided it was a good idea to bring his only son across the galaxy with him as he set about politely asking each planetary system to join the Round Table.

3

In front of Hector, a room full of aliens and humans of every variety gathered. They were the representatives from throughout the galaxy who had been appointed by their people to sit at the Round Table. Although he too was part of the group, he was one of a few who didn’t actually sit during the proceedings. For Hector, this was because he hovered on top of an energy disk. For the Looselawsug, a gelatinous alien without a skeleton, it was because a chair wouldn’t allow him to see what was happening. For the Sherwee, a member of an alien race that couldn’t survive in an environment hospitable to most living creatures, it was because she had to be in an encased chamber of helium in order to live.

The actual table, the wood rings and accompanying wedges, had grown beyond Hector’s wildest imagination. Now, he had to squint in order to make out the alien sitting on the far side of the table from him. Maybe it was a Kraknour. Were those six arms he saw or four arms and two antennae? Maybe it was a Lowry-Low. As much as he strained to identify the alien’s species, all he saw at that distance was a blur.

In the years since the Round Table had formed, more and more kingdoms had joined. At first, the table had been able to accommodate representatives from a dozen kingdoms. Even before the first formal session, however, an additional ring had been built around it to double the number of representatives. As more and more kingdoms and planetary systems joined the Round Table, the group of humans and aliens who gathered at it grew exponentially.

The main reason for this was that not every kingdom was the same size. It was argued that there had to be some sort of system to reflect that. After all, it wouldn’t be fair if the Dur-Schiell Kingdom, made up of only two inhabited planets, had the same number of representatives as the Kerchin Kingdom, which had ruled over twelve planets. That didn’t even factor in the former CasterLan Kingdom, which had possessed twenty-five inhabited planets within its borders, or what had been the Vonnegan Empire, which had encompassed over one hundred planets during its peak.

Only two years after its inception, the first modification was made to how the Round Table would work. Instead of each kingdom having one representative, each inhabited planet and colony would have a member. It was the only way to ensure balance.

Overnight, the Round Table grew from sitting twenty-four representatives to having over four hundred. Immediately, the people living on the moons sought to have representatives of their own. Their argument, which was deemed valid, was that it wasn’t their fault they lived on a celestial body that revolved around a planet rather than a celestial body that revolved around a sun.

Because of this, the Round Table now had to accommodate over nine hundred representatives. There was no hall or chamber on Edsall Dark large enough to fit such a table. The new system required so many chairs that a circular seating arrangement was thought to be a waste. The circumference of a table able to accommodate almost one thousand seats required a room wide enough to park a Nebulon II cruiser. Rows of seats would be much more practical, especially from the vantage point of the carpenters who were working at a feverish pace to cut and sand the wedges and rings for the expanded table.

The idea was that there would be no seat better than any other, Hector had argued.

The same idea applied to the notion proposed by a Trachnodorian. Build levels of smaller Round Tables, the worm-like and swamp-colored alien had said. Not one large Round Table but many manageable tables, one above another.

The idea didn’t sound outlandish, but Hector knew what would happen. Someone would get it in their head that a seat at the highest floor of the Round Table was more prestigious than a seat at the ground level of the Round Table. Again, Vere’s original idea that no one should be given higher status than anyone else was maintained. One giant table was constructed.

As a result, the CamaLon spaceport was expanded and then converted into a colossal meeting hall. Inside this Great Hall, as it became known, carpenters worked for weeks to build a table large enough to seat over nine hundred people. Vere’s original idea for the Round Table was kept alive, but as a result Hector hovered at a table so gigantic that he couldn’t clearly identify who was sitting on the other side.

He placed his hands on the edge of the wood in front of him. We have to remember, he told everyone gathered in the hall, that the Round Table was never meant to become a force for invading other peoples.

As he spoke, translation software changed his words into dozens of different alien languages so that everyone could understand him. He could hear a computer emitting the squawks and claps understood by the Erucian representative beside him.

Hector continued, When the idea of the Round Table came about, it was meant to be a path for each kingdom to come together. It was supposed to end intergalactic conflicts by uniting each sector. It was not meant to be a tool for threatening any planet or kingdom that has not yet joined our alliance.

A winged and feathered alien, roughly one hundred seats away from Hector, let out a series of screeches.

From the speaker in his ear, Hector heard a calm computer voice say, But the Round Table is meant to unite everyone. What about the kingdoms that refuse to join? Shouldn’t their people have a chance to live in the same freedom as those we represent?

Hector was about to say that it should be up to the citizens of each kingdom to decide what happened to them; if they weren’t passionate about the Round Table and were happy with the way they lived, then that was their choice. But before he could say anything, an alien with no physical body, only a silvery envelope of energy, began to hum.

A second later, Hector heard the alien’s translation in his ear. The Round Table cannot sit by and watch as people in other kingdoms remain under the chains of their rulers. The Round Table was created to unite the entire galaxy. Not just part of it. All of it. We have a responsibility to do just that.

Now, I— Hector started to say.

But before he could tell everyone assembled that the mission of the Round Table had never been to start some crusade across the galaxy but to instead show each kingdom that peace was possible, two other aliens began to speak.

One of the two was a tiny Feedorian who chose to speak in broken Basic rather than his native language. As a result, the translation software had a difficult time trying to figure out when it should and shouldn’t try and interpret as the winged alien offered his opinion. The other alien to speak was a Lerrk that grumbled and growled and sneered and who spoke loud enough to drown out the Feedorian.

The monotone translation began in Hector’s ear. We would be letting the other kingdoms down if we didn’t send our support. Don’t we want them to be free of the rulers who refuse to join us? It’s not the people’s fault that their rulers are stubborn. Leave it to General Reiser to show them that the Round Table won’t sit idly by and let enslaved people remain that way.

A tiny MaqMac blurted out a noise that was translated simply as, General Reiser!

Hector shook his head. That wasn’t the purpose of the Round Table. It wasn’t why Vere had put out the call for other kingdoms to join her cause five years earlier. A dull pain throbbed in his shoulder, reminding him of what he had lost. He knew better than to rub at the sore spot. It didn’t actually exist except in his head because his shoulder, as well as his entire arm, had been lost in the blood tunnels beneath Edsall Dark when he had been fighting for this very cause. In its place was his gravitronic arm, with metal spheres where his shoulder, elbow, and wrist joints would have been, a stream of energy holding each together. Five multi-cylindered metal appendages, each flowing with the same gravitational energy that kept his shoulder and elbow in place, acted as fingers. The new arm gave him the same strength he was accustomed to. It also, like his energy disc, reminded people of the impacts of war in a way that an engineered replacement arm, made of human tissue, could not.

The arm allowed no sensation of pain, but when this discussion arose in the Great Hall he always experienced a burning sensation where his old arm had been.

Everyone in the Great Hall had been selected by their people to act as the voice of reason, and now these very representatives were calling for the same types of unnecessary confrontations that had plagued the universe since the beginning of galactic travel. It was the Round Table’s mission to ensure peace throughout its member planets, moons, and colonies, not to ensure every kingdom across the entire galaxy joined. Kingdoms would join when they were ready. Not every ruler and every citizenry would be prepared to immediately accept the Round Table just because others had. These things would take time and patience.

That was what Hector wanted to tell the Lerrk and the MaqMac and the others who endorsed General Reiser’s mission. Before he could, though, a fur-covered Ren asked the status of General Reiser’s forces. A human male, middle-aged, with a shaved head and eyebrows that came down to obstruct the tops of his eyes, said that General Reiser had entered the Cartha sector without encountering any resistance. The Round Table would soon seat more representatives. A Toaden said General Reiser was doing a marvelous job and that the mission of the Round Table was being carried out to perfection.

But that’s not the mission of the Round Table! Hector wanted to yell.

Before he could, a woman, half-human and half-Trorian, asked about the scientists Arc-Mi-Die had kidnapped and whether there were any updates on their whereabouts.

An Ignis Moris, sitting in a seat designed to withstand his fiery skin, asked about the search for not only the missing scientists but for the warlord as well.

Hector closed his eyes and sighed. The representatives had already turned their attention to the next topic.

4

For months, Arc-Mi-Die hadn’t seen daylight. He remained in a room with no windows and no direct access to the outside world. For years, no one but his guards and androids had actually seen him with their own eyes. The warlord knew that extended periods of confinement could lead to a disconnect with reality, to a mental breakdown from which he might never recover. It didn’t matter if it was an involuntary or voluntary confinement; the result was the same: he would slowly go insane. His isolation was far from being a punishment, however. Rather, it was his personal wish and the only way he knew he could execute his ultimate plan.

After the battle at Dela Turkomann, in which he had double-crossed Vere and the CasterLan Kingdom, Arc-Mi-Die had set about becoming the most feared and notorious warlord the galaxy would ever know. It was a formidable challenge, mainly because of how dastardly others before him had been.

Two thousand years earlier, Prince Geng-Ess-Hawn, having been defeated by his brother and losing his rightful kingdom, set about destroying everyone and everything that flew the Hawn banner. With only a small band of Trulsilisk mercenaries, Geng-Ess-Hawn brought about the deaths of millions of people, destroyed all sentient life on three colonies, and eventually brought about the end of an entire kingdom.

A thousand years later, the warlord Chase Rungallion had become the galaxy’s most wanted man after kidnapping the children of the CasterLan, Vonnegan, and Doom rulers. The androids he used for the job accidently killed all three children, and Chase still owned the record for the largest galactic ransom ever offered for a single person.

Arc-Mi-Die wasn’t interested in ransoming children and he wasn’t concerned with bringing about the end of some relative’s kingdom. He would achieve infamy for a plot that no other warlord would even entertain.

It had taken a few years for Vere to get out of the Cauldrons of Dagda and for the combined forces of what would become the Round Table to defeat Mowbray. In all that time, Arc-Mi-Die worked in the shadows to further his plan. He still laughed when he imagined the expression on the face of the Round Table general who had been dispatched with a complement of Solar Carriers, Hellships, and Havoc Gunships, when he had arrived at the Dan-Two-Ine system. Their mission had been to bring the warlord to justice for his betrayal years earlier. The joke was on them. Arc-Mi-Die had long since departed from the volatile maroon and grey planet he had once called home. Only later would he find out that a young pirate with grand ambitions of his own had claimed the abandoned colony for himself. It was that pirate’s profoundly terrible luck that within weeks of doing so, the newly formed Round Table fleet showed up looking for a warlord.

No one outside Arc-Mi-Die’s organization had seen him since then. The Round Table fleet could look as long as they wanted but they would never find him. Only when he was ready to begin the next phase of his plan would they remember to curse his name. And even then, they wouldn’t be able to locate him.

5

From space, Cartha-6 looked nothing like other hospitable worlds. Rather than the random swirls of blues and greens found elsewhere, Cartha-6 had distinct ecosystems that ran in near perfect rings at varying latitudes around the planet’s surface. Both poles were white because of the ice and snow-covered mountains there. The next loop of ecosystem from both poles was green. This was filled with forests and fields. The next part of the planet was blue. Cartha-6 only had two main bodies of water, a pair of oceans that circled the entire planet. They were divided by the largest desert in the entire Cartha sector, which spanned the equatorial middle of the planet. From space, none of these ecosystems seemed to blur into the next. The result was a planet of unnatural division and splendor in an otherwise chaotic galaxy.

The leaders of Cartha-6 had given Julian no indication that they wanted a battle. They hadn’t powered up any of their defensive measures. Nor had they deployed the few ships that made up their navy in order to confront the approaching Round Table fleet.

Both reactions, Julian knew, would have been pointless. He guessed the leaders on Cartha-6 were also aware of their circumstances. The range of ships in General Reiser’s fleet ensured he could defeat any planetary shield system or offensive measure. They also guaranteed that any kingdom’s ruler would lose the vessels they were foolish enough to deploy. Better to save the ships and have their kingdoms become part of the Round Table than to lose the vessels and face the wrath of his people after the kingdom became part of the Round Table anyway.

Such had been the case when Julian’s ships had arrived at the capital of the Fad-En-Mic Empire—which, considering it consisted of only one planet and two moons, stretched the meaning of the word empire when compared to the former Vonnegan Empire. Lord Fad-En had welcomed the ships and treated them as guests. Hours later, a single royal transport roared away and Lord Fad-En was never seen again. His people had immediately embraced the idea of the Round Table, which served to convince Julian and the representatives back on CamaLon that they were doing the right thing.

A similar result had been achieved when the Round Table fleet approached the Arid Territories. Instead of offering any kind of resistance with his limited military, Baron Treat saw he was outmanned and outgunned and stood down. He retracted his earlier refusals to join the Round Table as if it had all been some sort of misunderstanding.

Of course we’ll join! Baron Treat had said upon arriving at the castle wall to greet his visitors. We want nothing more than to be a part of your lovely Round Table.

A moment later, the gate opened and Julian, Warwick, Exeter, and the others were treated like long-lost friends. Baron Treat, understanding neither he nor anyone in his family would be selected to represent the territories at the Round Table, went into a self-imposed exile at one of the many palaces he owned. The citizens of the Arid Territories, happy to be free of the Baron, were glad to let him live in peace on a remote part of the planet. All of the Baron’s other possessions, gained through the harsh systems he had imposed on his people, were given back to the populace at large.

Julian hoped the same thing would happen when he descended to Cartha-6. Prior to departing, Warwick, Exeter, and a group of nine other officers joined Julian aboard his HC Ballistic Cruiser.

I hope for the best, Julian told them, but be ready for anything.

Each of them began to assemble the armor they would be wearing down to the planet. It took a team of support bots to assist in putting each suit together. This was because while the armor bore a slight resemblance to space armor, it was fully outfitted with offensive and defensive measures, with three times more reinforcement and armor and the most advanced motor, life-support, and information processing systems found in the galaxy. The units transformed the wearer into something resembling a huge robotic mech. It was for this reason that the suits were known as Combat Artillery Bio-environments. The wearer of a CAB suit could live inside the armor without fear of being hurt by most handheld weapons while also being surrounded by enough munitions to destroy just about anything in sight.

The suits were as much a personal transport and computer system as they were armor. The wearer still had two arms and two legs, but every motion was amplified by the suit, giving them strength and endurance beyond anything even the strongest human could dream of. The suits were cumbersome and packed enough weapons and resources to transform a six foot tall soldier into a ten-foot tall walking tank.

The only reason they weren’t used more often was because they cost so much. Not many leaders—the representatives of the Round Table included—were willing to spend the same amount of money on a single CAB suit as they could spend on a pair of Llyushin fighters or dozens of normal suits of space armor.

Julian knew the point had been raised many times during the Round Table’s discussions. The only person who took every opportunity to speak on behalf of the CAB suits was Hector.

Why send men and women into battle if they don’t have the equipment necessary to ensure their safety as much as possible?

Everyone else who sat at the Round Table thought it better to build another starship or fighter. After all, why waste money on CAB suits for twelve people when you could build a vessel that could be manned with a thousand people and deter any other forces from wanting to begin a conflict in the first place?

Julian didn’t have a say in the matter. He wasn’t a member of the Round Table. He was simply the general in charge of carrying out its orders. That didn’t stop him from respecting Hector for his stance.

Julian had known the CasterLan hero since they were both at the academy together. Instead of going on to lead ships into battle, as Hector once had, Julian had continued his studies. It wasn’t enough for him to learn military tactics. In the galaxy, everything was related in one way or another. That much he was sure of. To focus only on military tactics was foolish. Instead, he wanted to learn everything. The history of the galaxy. The different methods of governance. The evolution of each alien species. One day, all of the information he accrued would lead to him being able to outthink anyone who stood in his way.

The door to the loading room opened. Julian turned and saw Talbot standing there, hands by his side, watching everyone get into their CABs. His son did not address anyone or even smile to one of the other junior officers. He merely observed what was going on.

The two of them looked at one another for a moment. Then Talbot looked away, nodding to Brigadier Warwick, and Julian wished no one else was there so he could have a normal conversation with his boy.

Instead, he called out, You’ll be on the next ground party.

He had said it because he wanted his son to know he hadn’t forgotten about him, wanted Talbot to know he would have his chance to shine. Talbot’s eyes darted left, then right, then went back to meet Julian’s for the briefest moment. Then he was looking at his hands. His jaw twitched. His face turned red.

Realizing his son had been watching out of curiosity rather than some desire to go down to Cartha-6’s surface, Julian cringed. Everyone looked at the doorway to see who was there. The attention only made Talbot’s face redden even more.

I’m sorry, Julian wanted to say. That’s not what I meant to happen.

Instead, he watched his son pause a moment longer, just long enough to demonstrate that he wasn’t leaving out of embarrassment, and then disappeared. Julian sighed and told the crewman at his shoulder to make sure the ion batteries were fully charged.

Cartha-6, by Tim Barton, digital art

6

I don’t know what to do, Portia.

As they continued through the streets of CamaLon, Hector’s wife reached her arm out so it touched the small of his back. Over the years, she had gotten used to every part of her husband, including all the physical transformations he had undergone. Her familiarity extended beyond what could be seen, however. She also knew all of his internal quirks and struggles.

After the battle of Solar-Rift, in which he had lost much of his crew as well as both of his legs, it had taken all of her courage and love to be around someone with Hector’s mindset. For months he had refused to talk to anyone, even her. Getting used to the metal that was attached to his waist and that held his energy disk had been relatively easy compared to the mental trauma. Physically, all she had to do when she was beside him was make sure she leaned so no part of her touched the disk’s swirling power. It had taken far longer to become acclimated to his cries and balled fists as he slept, ready to strike an enemy that he only realized wasn’t there upon waking. For years, he had refused to find humor in anything.

It had taken a while, but he eventually moved on and was able to love and be loved again. The only person who could have stayed with him through it all would have been someone of enduring strength. Not of the muscular variety, for which Hector and his wide and powerful frame was renowned, but of spirit. To Hector, Portia was the strongest person who ever lived.

Then, five years ago, he had led a squad of soldiers into what would become known as the blood tunnels in order to defeat the Vonnegan Empire. Once again, he had come away with not only physical damage but also more mental scars.

He had lost an arm and now had a gravitronic prosthetic in its place, but the more severe damage had once again been to his psyche. For a second time he had witnessed the men and women who he was responsible for die in battle. The only thing that had sustained him through the anguish quicker than the first time was the belief that it was the last battle the galaxy would ever see. The Round Table had worked; it had brought the warring kingdoms together.

Now, though, Hector didn’t seem so certain.

I don’t know what to do, he said again. It’s like they’ve all forgotten the Round Table’s purpose. They’ve all forgotten why they were selected to represent their people.

The first time he had said this, Portia had shaken her head, dismissed his pessimism and told him that everyone in that room respected him too much to ignore what he was saying.

They look up to you in a way they never did to their former rulers. They respect you more than anyone else sitting at that table, I can tell you that much.

However, during the next Round Table session, nothing changed. Various representatives began to ask what could be done to help the citizens of their respective neighboring sectors who were still under the rule of a king, dictator, or warlord. Each time, Hector told them to be patient, that when Vere had set about creating the Round Table, she hadn’t forced anyone to join. Instead, she had accepted anyone who wanted to be a part of it while respecting the wishes of anyone who didn’t.

A man with sunken cheeks and small, green eyes had turned and looked at Hector from across the table. Winchester was one of the many people who sat at the Round Table as a representative of a planet that had once been under the CasterLan banner.

If you remember, Winchester said in his low and scratchy voice, Vere was in no position to make demands at the time she formed the Round Table. If the circumstances were different, there’s no telling how the goal of the Round Table might have differed.

I know Vere, Hector had said.

Knew, Winchester returned, his voice sounding like sandpaper rubbing along a rock.

Yes, I knew her. She would never have presumed to—

Winchester was one of the few people in attendance who had never been enraptured with the legend that was Hector. He interrupted, Surely, you do not presume to speak on her behalf.

Of course not.

Good, Winchester had said. Then we are in agreement here today that we can decide as a group what the best purpose of the Round Table might be going forward.

They don’t understand, Portia, Hector said as soon as he had come home that day. He refused to look at her, as if his failure at the Round Table was a failure not only to himself but to everyone on the planet. They’re losing the idea that brought us all together. They’re going to send ships to every corner of the galaxy and force the remaining kingdoms to join or else be destroyed. What kind of plan is that? This isn’t what Vere wanted. It’s not what I fought for. The five cylinders that made up his gravitronic hand curled into a fist. This isn’t why I lost more of myself.

Help them understand, she soothed.

What can I do? He sounded more defeated than angry. I could raise my voice, tell everyone in that room that it’s in their best interest to listen to me if they wanted to leave the Great Hall in one piece, but that’s not what Vere would have wanted either.

Keep reminding them, she said. Keep showing them why you fought. She glanced down at the energy that made up the bulk of his prosthetic arm and at the disk that his torso rested upon. That’s what Vere would have wanted.

I guess.

But even as he said it he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. There had been a time, early in the Round Table, when no one would have dared question him. If he said the Round Table fleet should remain where it was and that any kingdoms that hadn’t joined should be allowed to do as they pleased, everyone else would have nodded. But as more voices echoed across the Great Hall, growing from dozens to hundreds, it became harder to have his voice heard amid all the others wanting to say something. Winchester was joined by a man named Octo, who supported the idea of sending flagships across the galaxy. And why not, they argued, since it only ever resulted in more kingdoms becoming part of the Round Table. Hector knew that with each passing day his opinion carried less weight. His friends on the Round Table, Cimber and Cash, begged him to use what remaining influence he had to demand the flagships stay at home.

One representative, a Gthothch from a planet that had been part of the Vonnegan Empire, actually turned off his earpiece the next time Hector spoke. Another, a worm-like alien, was fond of rolling his eyes—all ninety-six of them—when Hector preached about the dangers of sending ships to far-off sectors.

Very few people at that table cared what he had to say and he knew it. None of them cared because they didn’t remember what it had been like down in those tunnels, soldiers shouting and dying everywhere. The one thing he wished he could forget was the very thing he hoped they would always remember.

7

The Round Table fleet remained in orbit above Cartha-6. The only ships to descend to the planet’s surface were a pair of Llyushin transports. Both were accompanied by a collection of Thunderbolts, Llyushin fighters, and Havoc spacejets that entered the planet’s atmosphere and remained in a holding pattern a mile above where the transports landed. Anyone unfamiliar with the creation of the Round Table would have expected the Llyushin fighters and Thunderbolts to target each other as they had done in countless battles throughout the years. Instead, the fighters joined in formation as they provided protection for the officers on the surface.

The transports landed on the southern ring of green because this was where the capital was located. Inside one of the transports, Julian gave final orders to Exeter and the other four officers beside him. In the other ship, Warwick relayed the same orders to the five officers who were ready to disembark alongside him.

Do not fire unless fired upon, Julian said. Do not engage in arguments or debates. We are emissaries of the Round Table. We’re here to free the people of Cartha-6, not to invade them. Let me do the talking and we should be fine.

Inside his CAB suit, he could see only a small part of each officer’s face, their eyes and eyebrows. Everything else was armor surrounding the narrow visor. The suit provided four screens inside his helmet, each of which offered a steady flow of information. On the main screen, he had access to a live feed of everything happening outside his suit, but with the added benefit of seeing labels above the other CAB units to see who was inside each one, the type and amount of ammunition they possessed, and so on. Another screen detailed his own suit’s status, including its structural integrity, power levels, and the status of all life support systems. The next provided the same external view as the first screen, only in different spectrums to ensure he could see potential threats at all times, even in total darkness or if he were engulfed in smoke.

Any questions?

When no one spoke, Julian nodded and signaled for the transport’s ramp to lower. Daylight flooded the cargo bay they were standing in. Instead of gentle footsteps as he walked down the ramp, the CAB unit hummed, clicked, and clanged. Each time Julian’s boots clanked further down the diagonal steel platform, a thundering boom echoed like a giant’s footfalls.

At his side, he saw Warwick and the others also descending from the second transport. At the bottom of the ramps, the officers aligned in formation behind General Reiser, with Brigadiers Exeter and Warwick directly behind and to the side of Julian and the remaining nine officers in a row behind them.

In front of them were just as many aliens. Compared to the ten-foot tall, one-ton, armored Round Table emissaries, though, the twelve aliens looked small and frail. Each walked on hands and feet, only standing upright once they were where they needed to be. The aliens’ torsos and legs were covered in sparse, cream-colored fur. Their arms and heads were light brown and without fur. They didn’t compare in size to an ordinary adult human, let alone one wearing a CAB suit. Instead, they were roughly the same height as a human child. Because of this, and because of the great pounding each time the CABs moved, the aliens of Cartha-6 couldn’t help but shake as the armored beings in front of them approached.

It was clear that the Plancons were not physically suited for war. They understood this. It was why they relied on advanced androids to do their fighting for them. It was said that androids outnumbered Plancons on Cartha-6 in a ratio of eight to one. It was also said that most advancements in android technology originated from Cartha-6. If the androids ever decided to rise up against their masters, the Plancons would become slaves in a matter of minutes.

We are here on a peaceful mission, Julian said, his voice sounding much louder, deeper, and threatening through the loudspeaker of his CAB suit than he intended.

The aliens did not speak Basic and needed a moment for the earpieces they were wearing to translate his words.

One of the aliens held a small device to his mouth, then stepped slightly forward from the other Plancons and held his hand out.

The device, translating on behalf of the alien, said in a soothing voice, If this is a peaceful mission, I am sure you will respect our rule of law. You are here as guests to our home world then?

Julian gave a slight bow to demonstrate politeness. He knew, though, that the noise and energy generated by his CAB for such a simple act would also remind the aliens that while he was being perfectly diplomatic, he had other options as well.

I wish that were the case, he said. I would love to be your guest some other time. My presence here is to deliver a message from the representatives of the Round Table.

The alien held the device to his head, then extended his hand again. And that message is? the alien’s handheld gadget said.

Surely they had heard of the other kingdoms that had been assimilated as part of Julian’s mission. Even so, he gave a polite bow again and said, The Round Table would like the citizens of each sector to share in the freedom that our own people enjoy. All planets, territories, and kingdoms are requested to join us. All we ask is that the Plancons swear an oath to serve no ruler and that they elect one of their own to join us at the Round Table.

The alien swiveled on his hind legs and looked back at the others near it. All of them were staring ahead with narrow eyes. One of them tapped a single hand against the ground. Another tapped both hands. Julian wasn’t sure if that was a way of communicating in code or if they were simply nervous.

Finally, the lead alien turned back to face the giant armored messenger in front of him. The device in his hand said, And if we choose not to join you?

Julian smiled. This was his favorite part of the proceedings. He took a step forward. Behind him, each of the other officers did the same. It was only one step, but the combined noise of a dozen CABs performing any action brought with it a thunder and slight tremor that shook the ground. It was a simple gesture but it was effective in the intimidation it offered.

My friends, Julian said, we offer peace, protection, and a seat at the Round Table. There will be no more conflicts against Cartha-6. No pirates or warlords will dare challenge a member of the Round Table. You and your people will have all of the same benefits as everyone else. And peace will spread further throughout the galaxy.

The alien stared at Julian for a long time, then held the device to his head before extending it again. The soothing voice projected from the device said, For one who is offering peace, you bring many machines of war.

Listen here—

Exeter, quiet. Julian snapped. He stepped forward again, holding the armored hands of his CAB out in the most congenial way possible for a suit of reinforced steel with mounted shoulder cannons. I apologize for my friend. I understand your misgivings. Other kingdoms have had the same worries, but they have each subsequently joined the Round Table and were happy they did.

One of the other aliens stepped forward and held out his hand to reveal a similar communication device. From it came the words, Those other kingdoms had no choice, correct? Join or die?

Unlike Julian, the lead alien seemed unconcerned that one of the others in his group had spoken out of turn.

Another alien stepped forward and held out his hand. If those are our options, we think you underestimate us.

The alien tapped his legs against the ground in quick succession. As Julian watched, hundreds, maybe a thousand, battle androids came into form behind the Plancons. Each had been hidden behind a reflective field of light that had kept them invisible to the naked eye.

That’s an unfortunate turn of events, Exeter said.

Julian switched his comms to a private channel so the Plancons wouldn’t be able to hear. The Plancons have already conceded, he said to the other officers. They just don’t realize it yet.

What the aliens didn’t know was that Julian and the others beside him had been able to see the battle androids the entire time. The optics in their helmets, allowing them to see across multiple spectrums, ensured that a simple trick of light didn’t hide the alien threat.

Each battle android was wearing a flexible armor that provided their already toughened synthetic skin with an additional layer of protection. Unlike humanoid androids, the Plancon’s version was skinny and headless, their processors hidden deep in their chest cavities behind inches of reinforced metal. They had dull, metallic skin, with oversized feet and hands. In each of their arms they carried a mega-burst assault blaster, capable of dispersing one hundred and twenty streaks of laser fire in less than thirty seconds. Each weapon was fully charged and pointed at the Round Table officers.

Ah, my friend, Julian said, switching back to an open comms channel and reaching up to unlatch his helmet. When it was off and cradled in one of his thick, armored hands, he smiled, allowing the aliens to see the man behind the CAB suit. We didn’t underestimate you at all.

Immediately, a rumbling began to sound from over their heads. The entire sky was filled with a steady boom as if the planet would be blotted out with storm clouds the likes of which the world had never seen before. Instead of winds, rain, or thunder, however, a blanket of flagships descended toward the planet. First, the sun was eclipsed by the collection of Solar Carriers, Athens Destroyers, HC Ballistic Cruisers, and other giant vessels. As they got nearer, the force of their engines began to push the aliens backward. The CABs remained perfectly still. The ground began to shake from the force of the ships. Julian and his officers were unaffected, but the already trembling Plancons looked like they were going to cry.

The thousand battle androids didn’t attack, nor did they retreat. They merely waited for their orders. The Plancons didn’t know what to do. Each of them cowered and shook as the mighty ships descended upon them.

So, you will join us? Julian said with a smile, his helmet still off.

Instead of answering, the twelve Plancons turned and raced back toward the capital. Julian was sure that a few minutes later, they would take a shuttle, flee the planet, and go into hiding for fear of what their newly free citizens might do to them.

Without orders, the battalion of battle androids remained perfectly motionless, weapons aimed but with no intention of firing.

I’ll take that as a yes, Julian said, putting his helmet back on. Then, turning to the officers behind him, added, Another planet has joined the Round Table.

Warwick grunted. Another officer gave a clap of his two mighty CAB gloves.

Exeter shook his head. Just once, it would be fun if we got to use these things. Then, to the battle androids, he said, I think you all can lower your weapons now.

A thousand android arms complied with the suggestion.

Exeter laughed. You all are part of the Round Table now. How’s that feel?

None of the androids replied.

8

The HC Ballistic Cruisers, Solar Carriers, Athens Destroyers, Flying Fortresses, Hellships, and Havoc Gunships departed Cartha-6. As they did, the Havoc Gunship at the tail end of the fleet deployed the single proton flag as ordered.

The projectile rocketed from the side of the vessel the way a proton torpedo or ion missile would, then cruised across space. The proton flag was a fraction of the size of a weapon, however, and instead of causing destruction, it exploded into a carefully arrayed burst of light. The pattern of luminous colors would continue to be displayed above the planet for years.

In the past, proton flags had been used by victorious vessels to show who had defeated another ship. It was a way for rulers and warlords and pirates to let the rest of the galaxy know who had conquered a defeated craft floating uselessly in space. During Julian’s campaign, the proton flags were used for a different purpose. One was left above each planet or colony that was admitted to the Round Table as a sign of the Round Table’s continued expansion.

The flag deployed above Cartha-6 exploded into bright blues, reds, and yellows. At the center was a hollow blue circle ringed by blue wedges like gear teeth. Then a red gear appeared around the blue gear, which was then encircled by another in yellow, like cogs in a great machine. And then, inside the hollow blue gear, a symbol formed. It was the multi-tailed blue dragon of the former CasterLan Kingdom. After three seconds it faded away and was replaced by the purple warhawk of the former Vonnegan Empire. After another three seconds it switched to the silhouette of a sword and hammer cracking the middle of a shield. This was the crest of another former kingdom. While the blue, red, and yellow circles and wedges remained in place, the symbol in the very center of the banner continued to change from one royal crest to another, memorializing every former kingdom and territory that once had stood alone but was now part of the Round Table.

Round Table Insignia, by Chris Dietzel, digital art

9

In the darkness of the cave, figures stood in three different places. On the wall nearest to the entrance, stood a trio of aliens with leathery grey skin. Like all the other figures in the room, they had four legs and four arms.

Across from them, on the opposite wall, were seven members of the same alien race, lined in a perfect row against the rock that lay behind them. Instead of hard grey skin, they were covered in brown and bronze armor. The battle plates covered every leg, every arm, and every part of their face.

The warriors were twice the size of the three aliens on the other side of the room. Part of this was because of the additional muscle in their frames, but it was mostly due to the immense amount of armor they wore and their battle suits. It was more than a metal casing; it was armor on top of armor, with joints built under each layer to allow the warriors’ four legs to move in any direction, their torso to swivel in two hundred and seventy degrees of motion, and their larger upper arms to attack in every direction except directly behind them. Because of the dramatic size difference between the aliens on either side of the room and the fact that the warriors were mostly in the dark, they appeared more like ominous shadows looming in the background than participants in the Carthagen proceedings.

Unlike at the edges of the cave chamber, light flooded the center of the room. The two figures standing there also wore full armor. Their torsos were divided into two main parts. The lower section was horizontal with legs protruding from it. The upper half of their torso was vertical in the fashion of a human waist and abdomen, with two short arms extending from the sides. Further up, where a human’s arms would be, the warriors had a pair of longer, thicker arms.

The bright light above the two combatants, who faced each other without moving, provided additional detail that could not be made out on their armor of the warriors in the shadows. The bronze and brown pieces of armor were connected with strips of thin gold lining. Both of their upper arms had symbols printed on the shoulder plates of their protective suits. The symbols looked vaguely like a sword that flourished out to the either side in two different places,