The Excalibur (Space Lore II)

By Chris Dietzel

Six years ago, two fleets met in a battle that changed the course of the galaxy. In the time since, the CasterLan Kingdom and the Vonnegan Empire have been rebuilding their forces. The clock is ticking down to another inevitable confrontation. In the face of insurmountable odds, Vere CasterLan’s only hope lies in freeing a legendary weapon from the stone that encases it. It has been said that whoever can free the Excalibur will possess unimaginable power. The only problem, as certain death approaches, is that for thousands of years no one has been able to figure out how to release the Excalibur from the asteroid surrounding it.

Lives will be lost, kingdoms will be redrawn, and the galaxy will never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Dietzel
• Release date: Jan 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370014774

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

1

The portal glistened against the blackness of space. Three hundred and sixty individual metal cylinders, each larger than a standard space frigate, linked together in a circle containing the tremendous energy field connecting one spot of the galaxy with another. Away from the portal, in the infinite distance, billions of stars glimmered and sparkled.

The only sign of civilization, other than the portal, was the golden orange planet beneath it, swirling with clouds. Glyndwr was one of the many planets in the system that was hospitable to nearly every form of life, a planet full of cities and spaceports and trading hubs rather than a handful of colonies with artificial environments inside a containment field.

From the planet, a cargo ship made its way from the spaceports where it vanished into Glyndwr’s clouds. A moment later, the vessel appeared through the creamy orange formations, a path of cloud-colored mist behind the ship as it continued into the upper reaches of the planet’s atmosphere. Then, into space and toward the portal.

The cargo ship, a Capesize Bulk vessel, was long and flat, giving it the appearance of a landing platform for a Solar Carrier or Athens Destroyer rather than a spacegoing vessel. Ionic steam poured out of exhaust ports along either side of the ship as its mighty engines worked to keep the fully loaded cargo ship moving.

It was, no doubt, carrying some of Glyndwr’s spices and precious metals to other parts of the galaxy. Approaching the portal, the ship’s tinder walls began to lower. But when they were still only halfway shut, another ship began to appear out of the portal from the other direction. The cargo ship immediately began to change course to prevent a crash. Inside the ship, alarms wailed as the limited crew raced to save themselves from a catastrophe.

As the Capesize Bulk fired up its forward engines to slow itself, it also began to turn to the left, its tinder walls raising so the ship’s captain could see what was going on.

At first, only the tip of the new vessel could be seen as it appeared through the bright white energy of the portal, and there was no telling what type of ship would be coming through or how large it would be. If it was a small one-man vessel flown by some impetuous pilot who didn’t care about waiting for the okay to pass through, the freighter’s captain would have been fully prepared to continue ahead at full power and demolish the tiny ship. If it were anything larger, however, it could damage one of the Capesize Bulk’s tinder walls when they collided and the captain and everyone else aboard his ship would perish.

That was why the cargo ship came about, coming to a full stop next to the portal’s perimeter.

Inside the cargo ship, the captain, an old Gthothch, pounded a stony fist against the control panel in front of him and told his chief officer to open a communication channel with the other ship as soon as it was through the portal.

Everyone knew the dangers of two ships colliding inside a portal. Children were told horror stories of ships’ captains who decided to enter a portal without first going through the proper procedures, only to collide with another vessel when they were only part of the way through the energy field. The ships suffered severe damage and the tinder walls were compromised. As soon as that happened, all life aboard the ship ceased to exist.

As the captain waited, though, more and more of the ship kept coming through the portal. Any possibility that it was a single-man transport was erased. Any chance that it was a group transport was also eliminated as more of the ship came into view. Soon, it was too large to be an Ornewllian Compact or even a class-3 frigate. And still it was coming through the portal, taking up more of the expanse within the band of cylinders.

After the point when most ships would have already completely appeared through the portal, the ship that the captain had almost collided with was still not even half of the way through the energy field. He could tell because the ship was still getting larger and larger as more of its frame came into view.

The Gthothch captain sucked air in between his dull granite teeth. An Athens Destroyer.

The captain and his chief officer watched in silence as the Destroyer took up more and more of the portal’s space with its massive form.

When the Vonnegan ship was finally all the way through the portal, the freighter’s chief officer said, Would you still like me to open a communication channel?

The captain only shook his head, hoping the ship didn’t target his vessel with its cannons.

The Athens Destroyer took no interest in the cargo vessel, however. Instead, it immediately came to port, continuing past the Capesize Bulk and the planet Glyndwr and out into open space.

The captain’s eyes narrowed as he looked off into the distant stars. There was something about the constant light of some and the flickering of others that didn’t seem quite right. Then he gasped.

Sir? the chief officer said. But then he saw it too.

The nearest cluster of stars, hundreds of them, wasn’t a group of celestial bodies at all, but a fleet of Athens Destroyers, larger than any either of them had ever seen.

My god, the captain said, realizing that the Athens Destroyer he had just seen was only a single speck of light in a deadly constellation.

Sir! the chief officer shouted.

The captain looked down at the displays in front of him, then at the portal his ship was still facing. Another Athens Destroyer had begun to appear through the energy field. It only took a minute before both of them realized this ship wasn’t like the one that had just passed by them—or like any of the other Athens Destroyers they had seen during their years flying cargo across the galaxy. Instead of a gradual change from the front point of the ship to a long and expanding frame, this one jutted out much quicker. The little bit of the ship they could already see also had additional atomized steel columns—a sign that the ship needed more structural reinforcement against the various gravitational forces it might come across. There was only one reason it would need that. Because it was much, much larger than an average Athens Destroyer.

After passing through the portal for two entire minutes, only a fraction of the ship had appeared. And it was still getting larger. After another minute, the ship was coming close to touching the sides of the portal’s giant metal frame.

My god, the captain said again, the rocks in his throat cracking as he whispered the words.

The chief officer’s eyes were wide with wonder. Have you ever see a ship that large?

The captain couldn’t answer with words, only shook his heavy stone head. His own ship could be lined up with a dozen others just like it and they could all pass through the portal’s wide entrance without touching each other or the portal’s frame. A typical Athens Destroyer could be lined up with five other ships just like it and they could theoretically perform the same trick, although no general would ever be foolish enough to try the maneuver. But this ship took up nearly all of the space in the ring of cylinders. And still more of it passed through.

Each of the mammoth Destroyer’s cannons were the size of the captain’s cargo ship, which in turn was larger than any other ship near Glyndwr and rivaled the size of a standard Solar Carrier. One shot from any of the Destroyer’s guns and his entire Capesize Bulk and all its precious cargo would be no more.

When the Destroyer was finished passing through the portal, it too came to port and joined the rest of the fleet.

What did we just see? the chief officer asked.

The captain, who in the course of his long career had been a part of everything there was to see and do, usually hated the first mate’s naïve questions. This time, though, the question and the resulting answer suddenly made the captain want to break down and cry.

Meteors of a troubled heaven, the Gthothch said in a low grumble.

What?

The captain looked at his chief officer and shook his head in a combination of annoyance and sadness.

War, I think. And lots and lots of suffering.

2

From inside the Supreme Athens Destroyer’s command deck, Mowbray Vonnegan stood at the windows that overlooked the expanse of space around him. Until the ship’s tinder walls rose, all he could see was flat gray panels. Still, he stared at them as if they offered the same sight as billions of stars.

When the Vonnegan fleet was rebuilt following the defeat at the Battle at Tevis-84, he had made sure his own ship would be crafted specifically to suit him. Not him, per se—he wasn’t any taller than an average Vonnegan, nor did he need unique accommodations. What he needed was a war vessel worthy of the leader of the Vonnegan Empire, with an arsenal of weapons the size of most other flagships. It meant twice as many crew members and three times more cargo bays filled with squadrons of Thunderbolts. Quite simply, it meant building a ship of such a size, and with weapons systems capable of destroying entire planets, that an enemy couldn’t help but be overcome with fear when they saw the ship.

Three centuries earlier, the Vonnegan king Murdroc the Incessant had married his second son to the Endoclin king’s daughter in an attempt to end the Seven Corners War. Their offspring were a hybrid of the two races, a species superior to both the violent and muscular Vonnegans and the quick and calculating Endoclins. The result was Mowbray, a man with a physique and facial features similar to that of a human, but taller, leaner, slightly out of proportion. At first sight, one might think Mowbray was dying of hunger because of how thin he looked. Upon closer inspection, though, one quickly saw that it was the proportions of his height—arms and legs that were much longer than a normal man’s, but with absolutely no body fat—which made him appear that way. The other feature that people commented most about him was his grayish purple skin and narrow eyes that revealed bright purple irises. The result was a king who looked like a normal man from afar, albeit an awkward man, but who looked more and more alien—and more deadly—the closer you got.

Years ago, as he had given the orders to have his fleet rebuilt, he had already known he was going to personally accompany the new army when they returned to Edsall Dark. That time was now.

A buzzing sound echoed across the command deck. A moment later, the ship’s tinder walls raised and he saw the rest of his fleet in front of him. It was a sight that would make any Vonnegan swell with pride. Mowbray smiled, and his shiny white teeth made his lavender skin seem even more bright.

Open a channel to General Vion, he told the officer down by his feet. Mowbray had designed the walkways in his modified Destroyer so he could walk across platforms that were elevated above the officers who carried out his commands. Because of this, the head of the Vonnegan who nodded and carried out his order was at the same level as Mowbray’s boots.

The officer turned to the console in front of him. After pressing a series of buttons, a hologram appeared of a Vonnegan in full space armor.

Lord? the General said from the deck of his own Athens Destroyer.

Set a course directly for Edsall Dark.

Yes, My Lord.

One by one, each of the hundreds of Athens Destroyers made a slight starboard adjustment to their course and began fading off into the distance, away from the portal and from the cargo ship that still remained there.

3

Someone tell me what’s going on.

In a room overlooking the capital were the highest officials in Edsall Dark. Political advisors, military experts, and trusted confidants gathered at a long table to share their opinions. Presently, all eyes were on Morgan.

Well? she said. Is it good news or bad news?

But she already knew the answer. Impromptu meetings like this weren’t called when there was something to celebrate.

A rosy-cheeked man sat between Traskk and Baldwin. He looked barely old enough to have gotten his degree. We have reports the Vonnegan fleet changed course and will be here sooner than we expected, he said.

When?

The young man closed his eyes and breathed deeply before saying, Ten days.

Traskk let out a low growl. Everyone else cringed and moved slightly away from Morgan, expecting her to pick up her chair and throw it out the nearest window, where it would fall hundreds of stories before hitting the ground. She surprised them all by sinking her teeth into her lower lip and remaining quiet.

Baldwin knew her well enough to know this meant she was actually more angry than if she had broken someone’s nose. He, too, scooted his chair back a little bit.

What’s your name? Morgan said.

The young man smiled, but looked like he was going to vomit. Cade, ma’am.

Cade, we’ve had six years to prepare for the Vonnegan fleet’s arrival. We all knew they were rebuilding their fleet and would return someday. But we also thought they wouldn’t be here for another year. Why am I now hearing they’ll be here in ten days?

They changed course?

Morgan remained expressionless when she said, Are you asking me or telling me?

I’m telling? Cade said with the same raised inflection at the end of his sentence.

Morgan dug her fingers into the armrests of her chair. They changed course?

Yes?

Morgan stood up from her chair. If you say something like that again, I’m going to break you in half.

Cade squinted and turned to see if anyone else in the room would help him out. When no one said anything, he asked, Like what?

Like you’re asking me a question when you’re really telling me something.

Cade looked at the men and women on either side of him. All of them were staring out the windows as if the spaceships on their way into and out of Edsall Dark’s spaceport were more interesting than anything going on at the table. Combined, they were as quiet and still as Pistol, the android standing in the corner of the room.

Just tell me, Morgan growled, disgusted that she was surrounded by people who had nothing to say. Tell me how it is that the projections had the Vonnegan fleet arriving a year from now, but now you’re telling me ten days.

All of our intelligence said they were planning to skip the portals and fly here through open space. Our projections were created for that model. And they had done exactly that with all of the other portals they passed. Every time they had the chance to go through an energy field and get here quicker, they continued in a direct path from Vonnegan space. Our intelligence said it was to give their shipyards more time to produce additional Athens Destroyers that could meet them along the way. But then, in the Ankoman-3 Sector, they changed course, went through the portal there… I can’t remember the name of it. He turned to the others sitting near him. Does anyone remember the name of the portal in the Ankoman-3 Sector?

Morgan raised a hand and said, The name of the portal is irrelevant. Her knuckles turned white from how tightly the fingers of her other hand curled into a ball. Where did they appear?

Just outside our sector.

She bit down on her lower lip again before asking, Just outside our sector?

Cade nodded.

And they’ll be here in ten days?

He nodded again.

The armrest of Morgan’s chair creaked from the pressure of her grip on it. Well, what are we going to do about it?

The young man’s cheeks became a darker red when, after staring at her for a few seconds, he finally realized it hadn’t been a rhetorical question. Uh, ma’am?

Morgan walked behind her chair and wrapped her fingers around the back support. The wood there also creaked under the pressure.

What are we going to do in the next ten days? she said between gritted teeth, veins popping out of her hands as they squeezed the chair.

A man with a thick grey beard, sitting on the other side of the room, said, We are already at full production on our Solar Carriers, but even with the additional time to build ships while the Vonnegan fleet has been in transit, we cannot match their resources. We estimate they currently outnumber us two to one.

Thank you, Westmoreland, Morgan said.

The man nodded. Being that he was the oldest person in the room, and the most respected, everyone else wished he would continue to speak. But one of the very reasons he was well liked was that he knew when to speak and when not to. And because of this, he realized his part in the discussion had already ended.

Baldwin whispered something to the woman next to him about the Excalibur, but Morgan ignored it.

Anyone else? she said. Traskk?

The reptile gurgled and hissed a series of noises that no one understood except Pistol. The android had been instructed to translate Traskk’s comments only if they weren’t threats toward the Vonnegan fleet. Pistol remained silent and Morgan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, in a different life, she had been an angry Basilisk.

Peto? Morgan said.

A man two seats down from Westmoreland shrugged. We’re outgunned and outmanned. As I see it, one of the only things we can do is send representatives to the other kingdoms to see if they’ll help.

Morgan nodded. And who do you suggest would be qualified to serve as emissary?

Peto chewed on a long piece of straw as if he were tending to cattle rather than sitting in the most important council meeting in the solar system. I’d suspect Vere would be best suited.

Morgan, still standing behind her chair, dug her fingers into the back of her chair once more. This time, instead of merely creaking, the wood broke in half. Splinters sprayed the people on either side of her.

After taking a deep breath, she looked at the only empty chair in the room, which also happened to be the chair at the head of the long table—the chair Vere was supposed to be sitting in—and said, Yes, you would think so, wouldn’t you?

Does anyone know where she is? Baldwin asked.

Traskk gave a low hum as his tongue flicked side to side. Pistol shook his head.

Just like our other meetings, Morgan said, using her boot to push the bits of her chair to the side.

A young man came to the doorway: Cade, sir, we have a problem down in district four.

Cade, rather than standing for duty, blushed so much that his rosy cheeks looked unhealthy. I thought I told you not to interrupt me during these meetings.

You’re what passes for security these days? Morgan said, looking at the young man.

Instead of answering in the affirmative, he simply groaned without even realizing he had done so.

We’ve discussed everything we can for the day. Proceed as you were, she told the group. Then to the young security guard at the door, she said, I’ll handle the disruption in district four.

It’s turning into a near riot, ma’am, the guard told her.

Morgan looked at the empty chair where Vere should have been sitting and narrowed her eyes. I said, I’ll handle it.

Leaving everyone else to organize their papers and excuse themselves, she stormed out of the room.

I feel sorry for the poor bastards in district four, Baldwin said, and everyone shook their head in agreement.

4

The entire bar had turned into a giant fight with no clear teams or groups supporting one another. One second, a bulbous-eyed Terrangulan was strangling the life out of a little drunken MaqMac. The next second he was having a chair broken over his head by a Khrrut with a back and chest twice as broad as he was tall, but arms so short they weren’t good for much else than drinking and throwing things. A pack of Wolvertons swarmed a pair of Gthothches, their sharp claws scraping and sparking against the latter’s stone skin.

Everywhere Morgan looked there was fighting, chairs and tables being broken, aliens grunting as they punched and kicked one another, and groaning each time someone was hit. A chorus of growls and threats from dozens of different alien species echoed through the din of breaking bones and shattered glass.

A tiny alien, the size of a human child, flew past Morgan’s head as she walked through the doorway. She dodged to the side just quickly enough to avoid having its razor sharp wings slice the side of her face open. It squealed in terror as it fled the bar, happy to survive another day.

She scanned the fighting for a moment before her eyes settled right in the middle of the room.

I knew it, she said, one hand curling into a fist and the other gripping the handle of the sword at her waist.

Fastolf. The fat man was in the center of the brawl. Not only that, he was laughing, loving every minute of the chaos.

She noticed, however, that he wasn’t actually fighting anyone. Instead, he would push one alien in the back, causing it to sprawl into the aliens in front of it. By the time it turned around to see who had pushed it, Fastolf had already moved to a different creature and was doing the same thing. The result was a room full of aliens spurred into fighting because each one thought someone else was bringing the fight to them. All the while, though, Fastolf refrained from hitting any of his fellow bar patrons because it was more fun—or more lucrative at least—to pick the pocket of each one as he pushed them. All around the bar, he would push some alien, starting a new fistfight, only to duck out of the way, wait for the fighting to begin, and then quickly snatch whatever money the alien had in its pockets as it fought some other alien that had no idea why it was being attacked.

Fastolf, she screamed.

Even over the fray of fighting, he heard his name called and turned to see who had yelled it. After scanning the room, his eyes focused on her in the doorway. The smile immediately vanished from his face. He turned his head to look for the nearest exit. Without pause, he darted for it.

She tried to run after him but was immediately ensnared in the fighting.

Stop, she shouted at the aliens nearest to her as they fought each other. A QuaQuall was latched onto a human’s back, tearing at the man’s scalp with its suction cup fingers. Another man was kicking at a pack of ten tiny Tulins, who were all too fast to be caught by a boot.

When no one listened to her, she withdrew her Meursault blade, the one Vere had given to her, and brought it down in a slice in front of them. A trail of dark vapor lingered where the sword had cut through the air. The table she had cut, made of solid metal, fell into two equal parts.

The group closest to her stopped fighting long enough for Morgan to make her way past them. But there were still too many other aliens and humans fighting all around her to catch up to Fastolf. Instead of chasing him through the back exit, she turned and raced through the entrance. There, she turned left, then left again, and ran through the alleyway beside the bar. With one sweeping motion of her arm, her sword sliced through a stack of crates that blocked her way, a yellow mist lingering where the blade passed through them. At a barbed metal fence, meant to keep burglars out, she slashed a V, then kicked the top portion of the fence away, hopping over what remained.

She saw him in the distance, running down a side alley. Squinting, she realized there was a second person with him. Without another thought, she took off after both of them.

In the dark, she raced past the shadows of aliens of every variety, each carrying out some mundane daily task. A short, hairy Ppollop poured hot water down a storm drain after closing up his restaurant for the night. Morgan raced past him without the Ppollop acknowledging that someone had even been there, let alone rushed past. An Ignis Moris was stacking wooden crates on top of each other behind his store. The fiery alien had to wear special gloves so that each crate didn’t burst into flames when he touched them. A pair of feathery, dainty aliens stood face to face in the middle of a lover’s argument. Morgan raced past these as well.

At the next intersection of alleys she paused just long enough to see which way Fastolf and his companion had gone. Turning right, she bolted after them. By the time she got to the next crossing she had cut their lead in half. At the next intersection, they turned left, she followed, and she was only twenty yards behind them. She laughed, knowing Fastolf was tiring and didn’t have much more left in him.

Racing down the next alleyway, she was almost upon them. But that was when, still running, Fastolf’s companion smacked a large, ogre-like alien on the back of the head as they ran past. When the Crunklin turned around, already growling and ready to kill whatever had hit it, Fastolf and his fellow thief were well past it and turning the next corner. The only thing it saw was Morgan.

She skidded to a halt and sheathed her sword, holding her hands out to show she didn’t mean trouble. The Crunklin was hunched over but was still a foot taller than her. Its arms were as thick as her waist. When it roared its displeasure, she saw thick teeth as long as her fingers.

I don’t want trouble, she said.

It growled at her but didn’t move forward.

To be safe she withdrew her Meursault blade again. A circle of dark mist made its way around her as she twirled the sword into a defensive position.

I don’t want trouble, she said again. It was them, not me. She pointed in the direction of the two figures that had disappeared into the distance.

The Crunklin turned and listened to the footsteps racing away, then gave a softer, lower growl.

Are we okay? Morgan asked.

The Crunklin gave a hum and backed away to let her pass.

The race was back on.

Even with the extra time to get away, it only took another three blocks for her to see Fastolf again. The man was hunched over, still trying to get away, but too out of breath to do anything but hobble forward. His fellow thief, just as wide as Fastolf, stood next to him, urging him forward.

You don’t even know how bad I’m going to hurt you, Morgan shouted as she closed the distance between them.

Fastolf looked at her racing toward him, then groaned. His companion waited a moment longer to see whether the fat man would attempt to climb over the next