“Send out the fighters.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  One of the Hellship’s sensors chimed and Desttro knew it was to indicate that the hangars were opening. Moments later, the Helljets would appear and begin to make their way toward the Juggernaut. Out the main viewport, he saw Llyushin fighters, Thunderbolts, and Havoc spacejets appear as well, each flying in formation, each with the goal of finding and destroying the mechs and then the Juggernaut. This time, he was unleashing the full force of his fleet. The lesson had been learned the hard way—he had lost some of his pilots because he had played it safe. Now, the mechs would be swarmed by hundreds of Round Table ships zipping about. They would be overwhelmed.

  It didn’t take long for the first sighting of the mechs to come in. The matte grey mech appeared from a portal directly in front of Desttro. It swept its scythe through space, sending out a wave of energy that rippled and raced toward a group of three Thunderbolts. The Thunderbolt pilots, seeing it coming, swerved into the nearest portal and escaped the blast. Meanwhile, the mech was hit by four laser blasts from a squadron of Llyushin fighters that were racing in from the other direction. Sparks flew from the mech but its hover platform managed to carry it back into the portal from which it had appeared.

  On another part of the battlefield, where an Athens Destroyer and Solar Carrier were on the right side of the Juggernaut, the white mech appeared, sent off an ion arrow that blasted straight through the middle of a Helljet, causing it to burst into thousands of pieces. Before the mech could retreat, however, a pair of Thunderbolts hit it with a series of laser blasts. The mech was knocked sideways, but was able to vanish back into the portal and reappear somewhere else.

  The black mech, the toughest of all to see without the help of targeting systems, let the two sides of its scale send out the lethal combination of gas and bubbling liquid. The mixture came close to engulfing a group of Llyushin fighters but the entire squadron was able to break off into different directions and one of the pilots managed to let off a gravity depth charge on the way out. The depth charge exploded a moment before the mech was able to get back through the nearest portal. A sphere of energy expanded, then rapidly collapsed on itself, rattling the mech.

  “Casualties?” Desttro asked after a couple minutes.

  An ensign swiveled in her chair to read off the report. “Sir, three Llyushin fighters lost, all pilots presumed dead. Four Thunderbolts destroyed, two of the pilots were able to eject. Brigadier Endger is sending a medical transport out to retrieve them. One Helljet destroyed, the pilot dead.”

  Desttro nodded and went back to watching the battle unfold. The portals were being held at bay. A few pilots had confirmed hits on the four mechs. Yes, a few pilots had been lost, but it was a small price to pay for being able to turn the tide of the war.

  117

  Outside the Great Hall, a line of Round Table guards stood at attention. Each had a small blaster strapped to his hip. In their hands, each carried a pike that was longer than the guards were tall. The weapons pointed straight up at the sky as the guards stood motionless. Their uniforms were varying shades of gray and silver, except for the Round Table insignia on their chest.

  Two of the guards parted to make way for Talbot, who was followed by Octo and Winchester. From the top of the Great Hall’s steps, the three men looked out at the rest of CamaLon. For the most part, the building behind them was empty. The other representatives knew to stay away from the Round Table until the matters at hand were settled.

  Seeing no one approaching to confront them, Octo said, “Our hopes are answered. It would be madness for Hector and the others to challenge us and they know it.”

  Talbot didn’t reply. He remembered the change he had experienced while in the middle of the Carthagen trap. He had entered their cave as a quiet and unassuming junior officer, but as soon as he was truly tested he had become the leader of men and women who outranked him. It wasn’t a role he had wanted but it was one he had filled as a matter of duty and survival. Now, he would answer the call again by doing whatever was needed to avenge his father.

  He suspected the resolve of the men who had assassinated Julian had been defeated by the memorial crowd’s frenzy. Thousands of screaming people had a remarkable ability to make politicians and scoundrels rethink their actions.

  His eyebrows raised in surprise when a guard to the far side of him announced that a group of soldiers were approaching.

  “It’s them,” Winchester whispered.

  Talbot’s hands didn’t move toward the Meursault at his waist. Just having the Sword in the Stone by his side offered a reassurance that everything would be okay. Nor did he turn to the guards behind him and give them orders.

  “Stay calm,” Talbot said to Octo and Winchester. “Nothing will happen.”

  The approaching soldiers were in battle armor, which made their boots clank against the ground like drums beating with each step. Through the narrow slits of their untinted helmets he saw the faces of men and women he recognized but had never formally met before. No doubt, many of them were soldiers who had fought with Hector in the blood tunnels years before and would remain forever loyal to him. Behind them were Cash and Cimber.

  Without waiting to confer with Octo or Winchester, Talbot began walking across the courtyard to where the other group had stopped in a line. The soldiers moved apart to allow Cash and Cimber a chance to meet Talbot halfway between the two sides.

  Above them, the sound of great vessels of war rumbled through the air like an approaching storm. Talbot looked up and saw a Solar Carrier, an Athens Destroyer, and an HC Ballistic Cruiser in a holding pattern mid way between the planet’s surface and outer space. Further across the sky, they were faced by another Solar Carrier, an Athens Destroyer, and a Havoc Gunship. He didn’t know who was commanding either side but he gathered that three of the flagships were led by officers who were loyal to his father and the other side by men and women who were loyal to Hector, and by extension to Cash and Cimber.

  “It doesn’t have to come to this,” Cash said as he walked toward Talbot.

  Talbot stopped in the middle of the courtyard. “The time for kind words has passed. If you were interested in peace you would have dealt with my father in the Great Hall instead of in an alley.”

  Cimber, who was usually the first to shout insults and lose control of his temper, put his palms out to appease Julian’s son. “We tried, Talbot. Believe me, we tried. He wasn’t interested in reason; he wanted to rule over the Round Table.”

  The man’s words said one thing, his eyes said another. Talbot followed Cimber’s line of sight and smiled. The representative was focused on the Sword in the Stone, the invisible blade that left a trail of vapor behind it wherever Talbot moved.

  “You want to see it?” Talbot said, withdrawing the Meursault.

  A band of mist appeared in the air where the blade passed. The soldiers behind Cash and Cimber reacted without thinking, the majority of them raising their weapons. Each had assault blasters with an ion bayonette under the barrel. Seeing the other sides’ weapons drawn, the Round Table guards shifted their pikes to one hand and withdrew their blasters with the other.

  A voice called out, “There has already been too much bloodshed.”

  Cash and Cimber and the soldiers who had accompanied them turned to see Hector approaching from the street. He hovered to the line of armored troops, who parted to allow him past so he could talk to Talbot.

  “I knew you’d come,” Cash said with a restrained smile.

  But Hector shook his head. “I’m not here to fight. If the rest of you want to kill each other, that’s your business. If they want to kill each other”—he motioned to the vessels in the sky—“because they’ve lost they’re minds and are so eager to die that they’ll fight their own friends, then they can do that too. I’ve come only to speak to Talbot.” He hovered until he was directly in front of Julian’s son. “You have to trust me,” he said, his eyes red and swollen, his head sagging forward from the sorrow he carried. “Your father was one of my best friends. You have to trust that I tried everything I could think of. He had the chance to reject his ambitions and he wouldn’t.”

  “He turned down the crown three different times,” Talbot said, his voice low, the Meursault angled slightly ahead of him toward Hector.

  “He did,” Hector admitted. “But it became more difficult for him to refuse each time it was offered. Would he have become Emperor Reiser the fourth time the crown was offered to him? The fifth time? I couldn’t sit back and watch the Round Table turn into a monster.”

  Octo held a fist up to his mouth and shouted, “The Round Table isn’t working, you fool. We have the full arsenal of the galaxy at our disposal and we can’t even find and kill the warlord Arc-Mi-Die.”

  From the side path leading toward the court, in between where the two forces were facing each other, the clang of hooves sounded against the stone walkway. Everyone turned to see which new forces were joining the discussion. There was no cavalry, though. Nor was there an army of any sort. Instead, a single figure appeared. The armored warrior was twice as tall as anyone else in the courtyard, was covered mostly in bronze and brown armor but with a few plates of grey. The creature walked on four legs and had four arms. Every weapon in the courtyard shifted to point toward the newcomer. Talbot recognized it instantly as the same type of warrior he had faced in the Orleans asteroid trap.

  The bronze helmet scanned from left to right, taking in the roughly two dozen people arranged in the vicinity. Showing no concern for the blasters pointed in the Carthagen’s direction, the alien took two more steps forward.

  “You no longer need to concern yourself with the warlord,” the Carthagen said, tossing a satchel through the air.

  The bag landed at the feet of Talbot and Hector. It bounced once, allowing the flap to open and for the contents to spill out. A monstrous face emerged. Olive skin. Two distorted mouths, both with sharp teeth protruding. Arc-Mi-Die’s head rolled side over side one time, then came to a stop, a look of ghastly outrage frozen on his dead face.

  118

  The Round Table fleet’s assortment of fighters hunted the four mechs through and between portals. Anytime a Llyushin fighter, Thunderbolt, or Helljet missed its target, a streak of laser would disappear through one of the circles of energy, reappear from another, and either fly off into space or be absorbed by a flagship’s shields. Meanwhile, the fighters raced through as many different portals as possible. They weren’t necessarily trying to find a path through to the Juggernaut as much as they were interested in mapping where each portal linked to every other. In a matter of minutes, the relationship of the entire outer layer of portals was charted as was most of the secondary layer.

  During the exploration, the various space fighters reported at least five more direct hits to the mechs, although no damage was confirmed. Only two additional pilots had been lost. One died instantly when the mech with the scythe sliced it in half. Another, after passing through the black energy cloud created by the mech with the scale, yelled into his comms that his ship was eroding around him. The Thunderbolt pilot’s transmission was cut off a second later.

  The tide has turned, Desttro thought, allowing the first inkling of victory to creep into his mindset. The notion was reaffirmed by the rust-colored mech appearing from a portal and being hit by a pair of Llyushin fighters’ lasers before it could take aim at anyone else.

  All at once, the space in front of the viewport was black and lightless again. Desstro blinked away the instant of confusion. Simultaneously, every Hannibal portal had vanished. The Juggernaut was in plain sight. Before he could give the order to fire, the hundreds of circles of energy burst back into life, blanketing the Juggernaut from sight once again.

  At the same time, three different officers on the command deck saw something in their displays and called for Desttro’s attention. He turned to face the senior most officer, a lieutenant who had also served with him in the Cartha sector.

  “The Hannibal’s portals have been reset, sir.”

  Desttro nodded and told the lieutenant to relay the information to all of the pilots. This was an update he had been expecting.

  As he watched, the Llyushin fighters, Thunderbolts, and Helljets all began racing through the portals again. The mechs, meanwhile, continued to elude the ships as best as they could but were no longer getting pot-shots off at the fighters without taking damage of their own.

  The white mech appeared from a portal a moment after a formation of three Thunderbolts passed by it. The mech let off a pair of ion arrows. Two pilots managed to swerve into the next portal and get away, but the third was engulfed in flames as his fighter burst into pieces. Before the mech could sneak back into the field of energy, a Helljet blasted the back of its transport, causing sparks to fly in every direction.

  On the other side of the battlefield, the reddish brown mech appeared, brought its sword up to cut a Llyushin fighter in half, but was littered with three laser blasts by a formation of Thunderbolts. The force of the shots knocked the mech backwards, into the portal it had appeared from.

  Only two minutes later, the field of portals was almost completely mapped again. Unlike before, the back of the Juggernaut was also protected by portals. As more pilots navigated between the second and third layers of the portals they reported glimpses of the Juggernaut and were requesting permission to engage the main Hannibal ship.

  With only a few more portals to map, the hundreds of circles of energy vanished again. The Juggernaut and the stars in the distance and the black of space all came back into clear view. Immediately, the hundreds of energy fields instantly reformed.

  “Let me guess,” Desttro said. “The portals have been reset.”

  The lieutenant looked down as the first reports were received from the fighters. “Yes, sir.”

  Desttro nodded and turned his attention back to what was unfolding out the viewport. He saw a Helljet explode into flames before disintegrating. A moment later, the black mech formed a new cloud of its toxic energy. A Thunderbolt swerved to avoid it, but in doing so rammed directly into the mech. The Thunderbolt disintegrated in the explosion. The mech was engulfed in flames as it disappeared into the portal behind it.

  “I want a report from the next pilot who sees that one,” Desttro said, pointing to where the black mech had been. “I want a report of confirmed damage.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The mechs were getting hit more frequently. The Juggernaut was still moving forward, but only barely. It meant one thing: the Hannibal would have to change tactics if they ever hoped to reach Edsall Dark.

  119

  “You do not need to concern yourself with the warlord,” Lancelot said before tossing the bag containing Arc-Mi-Die’s head.

  The satchel landed at the feet of the men gathered in the middle of the courtyard. The warlord’s head rolled out of the open flap.

  In her armor, no one in front of her had any idea she was human and not Carthagen. Even before she took another step forward, every blaster held by every soldier was pointed at her. She couldn’t help but smile at the hapless people who thought they had a chance against her. After killing Turgdorians, Gorillians, and more bandits and henchmen than she could keep track of, a mere two dozen armed soldiers offered little threat.

  The youngest of the men in the middle of the courtyard asked why she was there. To his credit, he didn’t reach for a weapon like most of the others around him. Lancelot’s eyes, hidden behind her tinted visor, scanned him for possible threats. To her surprise, she saw the handle of a sword but no blade. A Meursault. Only the third such weapon she had come across in her life. Her eyes went back to the man’s face and actually took note of him for the first time. She was startled by how much he looked like a younger version of Julian.

  She chuckled at the way the universe worked. Months earlier, Julian had been injured in the Carthagen trap and lying on the floor of Lancelot’s private quarters. Injured from the wounds she had inflicted on him and sure he was dying, his one wish had been to ensure the safety of his son. Now, after crossing a dozen sectors in search of Arc-Mi-Die and delivering his head, Julian’s son was standing in front of her.

  “I’ve come to talk to your father,” she said, her voice deep and monotone through the helmet’s modulator, giving away no secret that she a human. “Where is he?”

  A man, roughly the same age as Julian and dressed in the formal clothes reserved for representatives of the Round Table, leaned around Talbot’s shoulder. He was bald but had bushy eyebrows.

  “Why are you here, Carthagen?” he said. “We ended the campaign.”

  Even though she no longer protected the Dauphin, the simpleton’s comment was enough to offend her. As if ending the campaign made up for the death and suffering and fear they had carried with them across the galaxy while they were forcing other civilizations to join their cause.

  Without thinking, she withdrew both vibro lances and ignited them, then withdrew both Meursaults. Most of the blasters pointed at her clicked, their safeties disengaged and their charge ready. She took another step toward the man, all four weapons pointed at him.

  “You might need a dose of your own medicine,” she said, and the man gurgled in fear and backpedaled toward the protection of the guards on the other side of the courtyard.

  Julian’s son stepped forward, his hands out to let her know he meant no harm.

  “I’m here as a friend of your father’s,” she said. “Where is he?”

  The splitting-image of a young Julian told her that his father was dead, his voice trembling ever so slightly as he got the words out.

  Lancelot paused. Her helmet swiveled to gaze again in the direction of the representative who was now safely behind the guards. She pivoted on her hind legs to assess everyone around her.