This thread is for material written beyond the main cast of NeS, and often beyond the planet Earth. Posts can be one-shots or part of a larger story. Posts are often unrelated to other posts in this thread, typically being snippets or blurbs of the larger 'Expanded Universe'.

Anyone and everyone is allowed to write in this thread :)

Please note that, while the main thread for the Neverending Story is intended to be open and casual and spontaneous, many posts in Legends of the NeSiverse (this thread) may instead reference all sorts of background information (often obscure) that's been established before. You can find explanations on many of these references on the NeS Wiki.

(The old thread for this was called Pantheons of the NeSiverse, which you can find here and here.)

Space Camelot
Re-Introduction

Space Camelot follows the exploits of King Arthur and the Camelot Crew in the Medieval Era. He and Merlin discovered a long abandoned alien spaceship the length of Great Britain and buried underneath it. They, with the help of magic from the Lady of the Lake and Morganna le Fay, were able to raise Camelotand take it on a quest to the stars. The crew explored the Solar System where they recruited new crewmembers for the colossal vessel, including Andy, a rock-man, Gamma Pans, an X-Krypton, and, for a time, a Jupiterian named Admiral Ltexi. Ltexi eventually led the humans out of the Solar System and onto planets further afield, including the drow homeworld of Caledonia where they recruited Newrias. She then took them to Outpost Finagle, a notorious pleasure station known across the Multiverse, before she then left them to return to her own mysterious ship called The Hopeful in orbit around Mars.

The group have just learnt that humans had already spread out from Earth centuries before Arthur and his crew, led by a fairy named Oberon, and colonised worlds that would become the Old Republic. The Old Republic is now, however, under threat from the Dread Masters and Arthur has decided he shall go to their aid. However he has his own problems to deal with first. The vassal kings under his rule are restless, incensed by King Óenegus, and so King Caradoc kidnapped Queen Guinevere, as well as Queen Iseult, to force Arthur's hand.

Anglitora, the mother of The Black Knight, has just died in the casino hall and her father, Prester John, appeared just to watch her final moments. The Black Knight must now deal with her domineering grandfather. Newrias is dealing with his coming of age and remembering his past drow lives, becoming the man Dhaeriend do'Ziikin. Gamma Pans seeks to learn the mysterious origins of his Lightning Amulet, with the aid of Morganna le Fay and Merlin the Younger. Sir Galahad likewise seeks to learn of his past, particularly the identity of his mother despite his father, Sir Lancelot, avoiding the subject. Sir Tristram fought in the arena but was taken by surprise from behind and almost killed but his wife, Isolde of the White Hands, forced all of her necromancy powers into bringing him back to life at the probable cost of her own.

The Royal Families

• King Arthur
• Queen Guinevere
• Prince Mordred
• Princess Guinevak (sister to Queen Guinevere)
• Prince Llacheu (left to rule Britannia on Earth)
• Morganna le Fay (sister to King Arthur/excluded from inheritance due to witchcraft)
• King Mark
• Queen Iseult
• King Óenegus (father to Queen Iseult)
• King Lot
• Queen Morgause (King Arthur's half sister)
• Sir Gawain (son of King Lot & Queen Morgause/excluded from inheritance due to knightly vow)
• King Urien (Brother to King Lot)
• King Caradoc
• King Rience (Cousin to King Caradoc)
• King Lionel
• Sir Bors (King Lionel's older brother/excluded from inheritance due to knightly vow)
  
  Knights of the Round Table
• Sir Lancelot du Lac (Cousin of Sir Bors & King Lionel)
• Sir Calogrevance
• Sir Aggravain
• Sir Bedivere
• Sir Kay (half brother of King Arthur & full brother to Queen Morgause)
• Sir Palamedes
• Sir Caelia
• Sir Red Rose Knight/Tom a'Lincoln (husband of Sir Caelia)
• Sir Faerie Knight (son of Sir Caelia & Red Rose Knight)
• Sir Black Knight/Anglia FitzLincoln (daughter to Sir Red Rose Knight & Anglitora)
• Sir Tristram
• Sir Isolde of the White Hands (wife of Sir Tristram)
• Sir Galahad du Lac (son of Sir Lanacelot du Lac)
• Sir Greene Knight
• Sir Robin Dagonet
• Sir Ector
• Sir Red Cross Knight
  
  Other Members of Space Britain
• Merlin the Younger
• Andy
• Gamma Pans
• Newrias/Dhaeriend do'Ziikin
• Lady Clare Bertilak

MANY HAPPY RETURNS...WELL, ONE HAPPY RETURN ANYWAY

Tangris is a forested world in the Milky Way galaxy. The majority of its surface is undeveloped, and it is neutral territory in the conflicts that span the spiral arms. The reason its neutrality is safeguarded is the same reason for its neutrality to begin with: the Aeon Lords who dwell there.

Aeon are totally-not-Jedi from all species and walks of life, who share the common trait of having excessive spiritual essence, or soul. They channel their soul in order to achieve feats that are totally-not-the-Force. Although some Aeon lean towards light or dark, the majority of them, including the Aeon Lords of Tangris, favor balance.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: You are not in balance.

Although many Aeon Lords are absent, gone on a dangerous mission to another dimension, those that remain have passed judgment on a deadly fugitive, one who was once an Aeon of their order.

This fugitive is strapped into a seat, and regards Rigorian with mild interest. He certainly doesn't look intimidating. He is tall and muscular, yes, of the alien Falleen race known for their mind-controlling pheromones, but his facial aspect is...well, it's a bit vacant, really.

Aelliesin Koure: Really? I feel fine.

Rigorian frowns, the fins on his cheeks furrowing downwards in displeasure. He opens his mouth to respond, but the Aeon Lord standing next to him speaks first.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: Odd words for a man sentenced to execution. Oddly calm...one might say balanced.

While otherwise clad in the traditional robes of the Aeon, Whippen Kur affects the unusual choice of a squat hat with a brim twice as wide as he is. While his eight-foot height makes him appear willowy thin, his stature is as broad as a fit adult human male. He pushes his spectacles up his three-nostriled nose as Rigorian and the other Aeon Lords assembled scowl at him.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: The verdict has been made, Whippen. Now is not the time to sow discord. Our numbers are already depleted thanks to that fool's errand in the Shattered Realm.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: If a simple observation leads to discord, then I would say we have rather more problems than mere bickering. I do not challenge the council's decision; I only state what I observe, and share my observations.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: If that is all...

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: It is.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Then without further delay. Aelliesin Koure, once-Aeon, once-general of the Empire, amoral mind controller, and wretched clonemaster, you are sentenced to soul-snuffing.

Aelliesin Koure does not react as Rigorian and two other Aeon Lords approach him from three angles. It is true that Aelliesin Koure and his succession of clones (of himself) have caused mayhem throughout the millennia. It is true that each clone has considered itself to be the same Aelliesin Koure as before. It is true that each of these new Koures continued the streak of ruthless ambition and crime.

But this newest clone seems very little like Aelliesin Koure. Though the Aeon Lords do not know it, he was psychically 'lobotomized' - to use a crude term that roughly approximates what happened - by a Void Ranger, one of the NeSiverse's diverse cosmic protectors. Now he has no criminal desires, but in fact barely has any wants or drives at all.

Rigorian and the other two Aeon Lords who are assisting him in the execution raise their hands and concentrate. Aelliesin Koure stiffens, every muscle in his body going taut--

And then he relaxes, his head slumping to his chest.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: It is done.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Aelliesin Koure is no more.

Koure is still breathing, or rather his body is. His soul, however, has been completely extinguished by the Aeon Lords' most terrible ability, and only the body remains, a vegetable that will soon expire unless it is put on life support (which the Aeon have no intention of doing).

Rigorian turns to Whippen Kur with a smile of tight satisfaction.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Now we can--

Aelliesin Koure: Oh hey, we made it!

Rigorian whips around in utter shock, his expression mirroring those of his fellow Aeon Lords. Koure is sitting up straight, very much conscious and soulful. In fact he seems rather more animated than he was before, and a broad smile splits his face.

Aelliesin Koure: Huh? Oh, how cool is this? I'm breathing again! I'd forgotten what it felt like to have a body.

The other Aeon Lords continue to look stupefied, as Koure looks all around him.

Aelliesin Koure: What happened to the others?

Rigorian finally recovers enough to sputter.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: How the devils--?

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: That is not Aelliesin Koure.

The other Aeon Lords look sharply at Whippen.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: Just stating my observation.

Aelliesin Koure{?}: Oh, I'm Aellah! Pleased to meet you! Er, why am I bound?

Aeon Lord Rigorian: You're a body jumper!

Aellah: A whatnow?

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: An entity that can transfer his consciousness and soul into another's body.

Aellah: Gee, I didn't know I could do that! I was just trying to bring us all back to Tangris. I didn't expect to find a new body at the end of it. Especially one that's mine!

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: Yours?

Rigorian's tone turns grim.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: You're another clone of him. The soul of another clone.

Aellah: Well, I'm my own guy. Master Koure and I didn't see eye to eye. He tried to kill me!

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: Wait, you said your name was Aellah?

Aellah: That's right! Just Aellah, if you please, not Aellah Koure; I chose not to take my genesire's surname.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: The anomaly, Rigorian. The clone that developed its own mind and personality. Koure groomed him as an apprentice, but the anomaly - Aellah - rebelled, and Koure slew him.

He looks thoughtfully at Aellah.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: But your spirit has persisted, I see.

Aellah: Oh! Of course, you're thinking of your Aellah. Gosh, it's so weird hearing about yourself being killed. But no, I died of old age.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Our Aellah? What are you on about?

Aellah: I'm from the Shattered Realm, what you would consider an alternate dimension.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: The source of the black water that consumed Teacher Telkrin?

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Kloo Celli! Kassuin! Did you meet them? Did they survive?

Aellah: Aye, we were all fighting together, and we raised a shield, so I could try guiding us all through the dimensional boundary back here to Tangris. Wasn't sure I could do it. Maybe I still didn't succeed. I don't see the others.

He is still smiling. Rigorian frowns.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: And you are not perturbed by this?

Aellah: No. I hope they're alright though!

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: It's possible they arrived at different locations. Hopefully elsewhere on the planet, at least. Or maybe at different times too. Hopefully not too far in the future.

The other Aeon Lords nod, but Rigorian regards Aellah with some consternation.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Why are you so...

He pauses, unsure of the correct word. Whippen Kur helpfully supplies it.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: Happy.

Rigorian glances at Whippen Kur, and nods.

Aellah: Well, Master Koure - that is, my Master Koure, the Shattered Realm version that is an alternate dimension to you - conducted a ritual intending to channel the energies of Terra Flux through me. It didn't work like he expected, and he wasn't pleased. I was rather pleased though!

Rigorian looks at Aellah in some disbelief.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: This ritual made you...happy?

Aellah: Yup! It's pretty great, I'll tell you!

Aeon Lord Rigorian: You cannot call this balanced, Whippen.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: No, I cannot. You do not seem... indolent, however. One would presume that unshakable bliss would make one inactive. But you speak of helping our fellows, of aiding a noble cause.

Aellah: Paradoxical, right? I don't get it myself, but it works for me!

He pauses, looking at the restraints keeping him strapped to the execution chair.

Aellah: Say, why am I manacled?

Rigorian purses his lips, trades a meaningful glance with Whippen Kur, looks across the faces of the other Aeon Lords there assembled, and then turns back to Aellah.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: You are not guilty of your genesire's crimes, being far more than an exact clone, but rather your own entity.

He waves his hand, and the bindings come off. Aellah stands up and stretches.

Aellah: Thanks! So, who are you? I don't recognize any of you from my dimension!

Rigorian turns to look at Whippen Kur, who gives a small shrug as Aellah bows to each of the other Aeon Lords one by one and introduces himself to them.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: This will be trouble. I'm sure of it.

Aeon Lord Whippen Kur: Your vision isn't clouded by bias against Aelliesin Koure, whose body this fellow now indwells?

Rigorian smiles tightly.

Aeon Lord Rigorian: Just stating my observation...

Space Camelot
Bad News

Location: Arena
Characters: Sir Tristram | Sir Isolde of the White Hands | Sir Calogrevance | Sir Aggravain

Anger fills the stalls of the arena as they watch their new champion cut down from behind. Yet even as they boo the man begins to rise again, his wounds healed and his life restored. Jeers become cheers as he will live to entertain them another day but the man doesn't celebrate. He stares around, wild-eyes and surprised. Sir Tristram tosses his weapon aside and looks into the crowds. A man born on the deserts of Arabia he is used to using his eyes to scan for signs of movement and he sees his wife deteriorating. He runs at her, but the forcefield around the arena would keep him out - all he can do is pound his gloved fist against it in desperation. The theme music - which he was asked to choose as his victory tune - was blaring in the background but sounded hazy and muddled. The song, "The Magic Position" by Patrick Wolf, is about as peppy and uplifting as they come and a not very subtle joke for his magic-wielding wife.

Fortunately there were other knights in the crowd.

Sir Calogrevance: "Lady Isolde! No!"

The seriousness of the situation could be told by Calogrevance's shortness of sentence.

Sir Tristram: "Save her!"

Tristram continues pounding against the invisible shield and the people start to pay attention. They turn and huddle as Sir Calogrevance and Sir Aggravain try to resuscitate the unconscious Isolde of the White Hands. She hangs limp in the arms of the honourable Calogrevance while Aggravain uses his height and strength to clear the crowd to let medical droids rush in. People oblige and even offer what little aid they could. Aggravain and one of the crowd help the droids to put her onto a laser-stretcher and the droids tramp their way back out. The last Sir Tristram sees of her, she is alive.

---

Location: Hotel | Arthur's Hotel Room
Characters: King Arthur | Newrias | Sir Gawain | The Red Cross Knight | Sir Robin Dagonet | Sir Bors | Sir Palamedes | Sir Caelia

Arthur is relaxing in his gaudy hotel room, which is far more European than Europe actually is. He drinks a glass of dandelion and burdock while Sir Gawain necks a bottle of wine.

King Arthur: "Drink much more of that and I'll have to carry you out of here."

He pauses.

King Arthur: "Or at least I'll order someone to carry you out."

Sir Gawain: "But Uncle Arthur! I'm free for one whole knight! I mean night... free of my parents!"

King Arthur: "Gawain, you're a night -- I mean knight of the round table. Your parents don't honestly keep tabs on you, do they?"

Sir Gawain: "Damn right they bloody do. Always treating me like a kid."

King Arthur: "You're like, what, twenty-six?"

Sir Gawain: "Eighteen!"

King Arthur: "Wow. You drink way too much if you look that old already."

Newrias: "I'll carry him out for you, my king!"

Sir Gawain: "Oi! Watch it, pipsqueak!"

Gawain almost falls over the coffee table but manages to steady himself at the last minute.

He then falls over anyway.

King Arthur: "Okay, now you can carry h--"

There's a loud, desperate knock the door. Newrias, the young drow boy, looks to his new king. Arthur just shrugs.

King Arthur: "Come in!"

The doors bursts open and The Red Cross Knight, minor character extraordinaire, comes in, panting. The door slams shut behind him.

The Red Cross Knight: "Sire! Terrible news! The Queen has been kidnapped by King Caradoc!!"

Arthur sprays dandelion and burdock everywhere.

King Arthur: "WHAT!!?"

The door bangs again.

King Arthur: "COME IN!"

Sir Robin Dagonet bursts in and runs straight into the kneeling Red Cross Knight and promptly falls flat on his face - that face colliding with Gawain's crotch, who then squeaks like the pip he insulted earlier. Robin scrambles to his feet, falling over the Red Cross Knight two more times, before he salutes.

King Arthur: "What're you doing? Saluting hasn't been invented yet!"

Sir Robin: "Oh right, yeah!"

He gets down to one knee.

Sir Robin: "Sire! We rescued Queen Guinevere!"

King Arthur: "Well that was quick."

Sir Robin: "But Lady Anglitora has died."

King Arthur: "How did--"

There's another pounding at the door.

King Arthur: "Who the hell is it this time!?"

Sir Bors, the good and wholesome knight, enters with grace, dignity and doesn't fall over anyone.

Sir Robin: "Show off."

King Arthur: "Not falling over people is not showing off, Sir Robin! It's how normal people enter rooms!"

Sir Bors gets on one knee.

Sir Bors: "My king! Grave news! Sir Tristram almost fell in battle but was revived by his wife, Sir Isolde."

King Arthur: "So he's okay?"

Sir Bors: "Yes. Unfortunately it almost cost Isolde her life. She is in the medical wing of Outpost Finagle now."

King Arthur: "Jesus Christ!!"

The knights wince at the blasphemy.

King Arthur: "Why is all this bad stuff happening all at once? Who smashed a mirror!? Did anyone see a black cat about?"

Sir Bors: "Isn't a black cat good luck?"

King Arthur: "I think it changes country-to-country."

There's another knock at the door.

King Arthur: "Oh for God's sake. Come!"

The knights reel from a second blast of blasphemy.

Sir Palamedes rushes in. And falls on Sir Robin.

Sir Robin: "Thank you for joining me at the bottom of the idiot pile!"

He grins but Palamedes just gives his report from flat on his back.

Sir Palamedes: "Sire! Sir Lancelot and Sir Bedivere are being attacked by giants!"

Arthur pauses in consideration.

King Arthur: "Honestly, I think that's normal for them. I'd be more worried if nothing was happening to them. Next time, bring me some real news like everyone else."

Sir Palamedes: "Sorry Sire."

Another knock.

King Arthur: "Why doesn't this hotel have a doorbell?"

Sir Gawain: "What's a doorbell?"

King Arthur: "A bell... on the door."

Sir Gawain: "Genius!"

King Arthur: "Yes I am."

The door opens and in steps Sir Caelia. She is decked out in her usual blue pixie-outfit with the fluffy fur hem. She looks like she has been tramping through a winter wonderland rather than the heated corridors of a luxury spacestation.

Sir Caelia: "My king, I bring some devastating news!"

King Arthur: "Join the club."

Sir Caelia: "Your cheese farm on Camelot has been sabotaged!!"

King Arthur: "BY ALL THAT IS HOLY! THIS IS THE MOST TERRIBLE NEWS OF ALL! WHO COULD HAVE DONE THIS!?"

Sir Caelia: "Probably Morgan. She hates your cheese farm."

King Arthur: "The ungrateful wretch! She is struck off my Christmas list!"

Sir Caelia: "Why are you all on the floor?"

Sir Gawain: "Because I'm too drunk to stand?"

Sir Robin: "Because I'm too stupid to stand?"

Sir Palamedes: "Because... I just sort of didn't get up yet."

---

Location: Medical Wing
Characters: The Black Knight | Anglitora | Prester John | Sir Isolde of the White Hands | Sir Aggravain | Sir Calogrevance

Anglia FitzLincoln is the daughter to Tom a'Lincoln and Anglitora of India. A faux marriage saved Anglitora from being used as a sacrifice for a dragon in India but from that fake marriage was birthed the unwanted child, Anglia. Tom a'Lincoln, The Red Rose Knight of the round table, returned to his true wife, Sir Caelia, on the island of Avalon and Anglitora, with her child, were left in England. Anglitora remarried but Anglia never accepted her step-father and had to deal with the gossip of Arthur's courtiers and the distance of her true father.

Born of bitterness and inner rage, she became The Black Knight.

But this night she is Anglia once again as she looks down at her mother's corpse on a medical bed. The droids had tried to revive her but her illness was too severe. She must have hidden it for years. Anglia kisses her mother's forehead, feeling her skin to now be most cold.

On other opposite side of the bed is the man that had wanted her mother to be sacrifice to the monstrous creature. Her grandfather, Prester John, of the Christian Kingdom of the East. Ally to Mongols, enemy to India and China. A kingdom shrouded in legends and mythology.

Prester John: "She should have had a worthy death."

Anglia: "Chewed and digested by a dragon isn't a worthy death."

Prester John: "You are as narrow-minded as your mother. I was foolish to trust that English knight. I could sense deception around him but to agree to a marriage he could not fulfill... I never imagined a Christian knight capable of such a thing."

Anglia: "He saved her life."

Prester John: "He committed heinous sin! He lay with my daughter when he had no right to. He swore marriage-vows and made them as false as dicers' oaths!"

Anglia: "Keep your values to yourself. She lived many years thanks to my father. You disgust me."

Prester John: "It seems the strength of Christian values has waned in Europe since I left... I didn't expect such corruption to take hold so easily in the hearts of God's children..."

Anglia: "It is you who is corrupt."

Prester John: "God's laws are clear and resolute. Your mother and father committed great sin and as a result she is paying the price even as we speak."

Anglia: "You can't mean you think she's... It is you who should be in hell!"

Prester John: "Perhaps it is just England that is the root cause of the corruption. The old ways were always strongest there. Stonehenge, the Old North, Wales... these are centres of the old gods. The ways of the heathens and the druids."

Anglia: "Think what you will, grandfather. You're presence is not welcome. This is not Earth."

Prester John: "Indeed it is not. And that is why I have projected myself here with you. To see God's Word spread to the people of the stars."

Anglia: "Find another vessel."

The doors slide open with a hiss and medical droids trot in with a stretcher. On the stretcher is Isolde of the White Hands in a dreary state. Two knights follow them in.

Sir Calogrevance: "Sir Black Knight! Are you well!?"

The Black Knight quickly slaps her visor shut, once again concealing her face from the world.

The Black Knight: "I am fine. What happened?"

Sir Aggravain: "She used her powers to revive her husband but now she's dying."

The three knights gather at a distance as the droids continue to work on their patient.

Prester John: "And here it is."

The Black Knight: "Here's what?"

Sir Aggravain: "What?"

Prester John: "They can't perceive me. I'm connected to you, my blood."

The Black Knight: "Uh... nothing. I'm not crazy. Honest."

The two men edge away from the Black Knight and she sighs. She watches Prester John approach the bed with Isolde, unseen by the droids. The Black Knight refrains from shoving him away.

Prester John: "She is the prime example of everything wrong with Europe. The rot. The corruption. Just like the coven of Berry, in France. She festered in England and festers now in this Space Britain you have created. She must be purged."

The Black Knight: "No--!"

She catches herself.

Prester John looks up at his granddaughter and smiles.

Prester John: "You will help me."

NSP (Non-Story Post): Sorry this is so expository. I wanted to lay things out in a more natural flow, but the post just wasn't getting written, so I simply powered through it as a bunch of exposition, to get it done.

***

REMNANT OF AN EMPIRE

On the edge of the Milky Way galaxy, at the end of one of its spiral arms, lies a star system known appropriately as the Terminus. Ages ago, an extremely powerful multiversal dominion, known as the High Empire, established an outpost here, just a small one. The fleet assigned here took over a few dozen nearby star systems, and collectively they become known as the Terminus systemS, plural.
This gives the local bureaucrats quite a headache, when trying to make sure paperwork correctly identifies either the single outermost system or the collection of them.
The outermost single system, the Terminus in which the colonizing fleet first established an outpost, remains the sector capital. In it, a massive space station formed of crystal and metal serves as fortress, administrative complex, barracks, shipyard, and capitol.

Qemik: Do you have a preliminary report?

A tall alien man with a hooked nose, and ridges on his skull in place of hair, Qemik is the de facto governor of the Terminus sector, and captain of its fleet's largest ship, the Ascendancy-class supercruiser Scion of Divinity. His three eyes (each of a different color) flick towards the lieutenant who has approached him.

Lieutenant: Yes, sir. The Scion of Divinity has lost a total 15% of its mass, including three repfacs that were totally pulverized and four others that suffered cataclysmic failure. One of the primary quark vaults is lost, and two of the shield projection domes are decimated.

Qemik is silent, pondering. He cuts an imposing figure against the backdrop of space through the transparent wall behind him. He wears the uniform of a High Imperial Navitatex, or capital ship captain. It's a black, silver, and gold affair, with a captain's coronet upon his head and golden shoulderpads. His left shoulderpad is marked with three white stripes, signifying his captaincy of an Ascendancy-class supercruiser, the largest ship size commonly fielded by the High Empire.

Such a supercruiser is ten miles long from stem to stern, covered in crystalline gothic architecture, and bristling with weaponry. A superlaser can be fired from its forward port, of sufficient strength to disintegrate an entire planet in a single shot. It has nearly infinite energy reserves, due to its twenty replication factories, or repfacs, a marvel of High Imperial magic and science. Crystal repfacs can consume any mass or energy and reform it into a suitable purpose, such as energy to power ship systems, or food and supplies, or drones, or anything that the repfac has a schematic for.

Qemik: How much docktime would be required to repair it fully?

Lieutenant: Four months is the current estimate.

Qemik falls silent again, and the lieutenant can almost hear the gears turning in his head.

Qemik: And if brought up only to Level-C combat readiness?

The lieutenant's reply is immediate, having anticipated this question.

Lieutenant: 120 hours.

Qemik: See that it is done in 110. Dismissed.

Lieutenant: Yes, sir.

He salutes smartly and hurries off, already speaking into his comm to relay the Navitatex's orders. Qemik watches him go, before turning around to gaze out the transparent wall of the space station again.

Some distance away he can see the Terminus sector's hypergate, an enormous crystal ring easily the size of a small planet. Once it glittered constantly across its surface, connecting Terminus to the myriad realms of the High Empire, including the grand capital, Urbis Imperia itself, home of the glorious godking Highemperor.

But a cataclysmic war had been fought, and at the end of it, Highemperor himself, along with nearly the entirety of his multiverse-spanning High Empire, had been sucked into a time lock of staggering power and scale, trapped forevermore.

Why the Terminus sector had escaped that fate, Qemik does not know, nor does he care to question it, merely accepting it as chance. Whether or not other outlying outposts of the High Empire still remain elsewhere in the multiverse, he does not know either, and it is not relevant to their situation.

The Terminus sector stands alone, and though it possesses a large fleet, formidable defenses, and the incredibly advanced suite of High Imperial magitech, it is small and frail versus the many enemies the High Empire had made over the eons. Enemies who might seek vengeance against a weak and isolated remnant.

The lift on the far wall behind him dings open, and out comes an anthropomorphic cat-person. His drunken stagger is very at odds with his grandiose attire, a red, white, and gold getup identifying him as a member of the prestigious Order of Powerplayers, the High Empire's extraordinarily potent champions.

Kim: Man, those Coaleshion blokes know how to PARTY!

He staggers another few steps towards Qemik, stops to belch, then makes the rest of the distance, looking blearily up at the captain.

Kim: Say, you should come with me to the next party! Could use some time to unwind, whaddya say?

Qemik has no idea how such an incompetent dullard was admitted into the ranks of the glorious Powerplaying Order. The fact remains however that Kim is now the only known High Imperial Powerplayer still in existence outside the ultimate time lock, and thus the highest-ranking High Imperial personage to be found. Quite aside from that, he had been named proconsul, governor over the Terminus sector, shortly before Highemperor's demise.

But Kim's incompetence and apathy is why Qemik is the de facto governor. He chooses his words carefully.

Qemik: You are generous to extend such courtesy, my lord. I regret that my duties to your domain require all of my time however.

Kim: You're a good guy, Qemik, ya know? Here, you should at least try some of this Fiolxon ale-- where'd I put it? Had it here somewhere...

Kim flails through his robes, looking for said ale, completely oblivious to the half-full bottle of it he grasps in his hand.

Kim: Oh, I bet I left it with Pollos! He's a good bloke like you. Knows how to party too! Have you met him? You'd like him.

Qemik carefully keeps his expression neutral. Navitatex Pollos is the captain of the Quasar-class drone carrier Void's Edge. Quasar carriers are two miles long and have 12 repfacs, which it uses to churn out a variety of advanced drones for military purposes. Comet-class drones for space, Phalanx-class drones for ground-based engagements, and elite Dragon-class drones for the more difficult assignments.

Just as the Scion of Divinity is the only Ascendancy-class supercruiser in the Terminus sector (and likely the only one left, with the others being imprisoned in the ultimate time lock that had caged Highemperor), so too is the Void's Edge the Terminus sector's only Quasar-class drone carrier. The majority of the Terminus fleet consists of hundreds of mile-long Quinquereme-class destroyers.

Qemik and Pollos are technically of equal rank. However, High Imperial tradition has long held that captains of greater ships hold authority over those of lesser ships; therefore in a usual case, Pollos should defer to Qemik. But with no high command to answer to any longer, there is no one to enforce such traditions, and Pollos is only too eager to assert his independence of authority.

Pollos is corrupt, taking bribes from local pirates to line his own pockets and live in luxury. He had also been the biggest fish in the pond, so to speak, for a long time, before Qemik and his supercruiser were assigned to the Terminus. As many men are loyal to Pollos and his corruption as are to Qemik and his dedicated patriotism.

So a precarious balance of power is maintained, for now. Kim is ostensibly in charge, but in addition to being incompetent is easily swayed by Pollos. Qemik is still unchallenged in most matters of governance, given that Pollos has little ambition, yet they butt heads constantly.

Qemik: My lord, is it meet for a High Imperial captain to party so much when he has fleets to oversee?

Kim: Aw, don't be such a stick in the mud, Qemik! You need to loosen up. Tell you what, I'm gonna run over to Pollos's place right now and find that Fiolxon ale! You could use it.

Qemik suppresses as a sigh as Kim staggers back into the lift. Honestly, he'd prefer to install one of Highemperor's many wives or daughters in charge, as he is a pious man who had fervently worshipped the departed godking. Most of them are trapped in the ultimate time lock too, but at least some of them had escaped, and had sought asylum in the Imperium, another multiversal empire that had long been a rival and wary ally to the High Empire. Qemik couldn't blame them; diminished as the High Empire is, to this single sector, the Imperium could protect them better than he could, at least for now.

He has more immediate concerns for now. With the Terminus sector's flagship - his own ship, Scion of Divinity - so damaged, some might see this as a prime opportunity strike. It would be a tense 110 hours indeed...

***

NSP: Again, sorry for the exposition!

Space Camelot
Space Race

Location: Camelot | Space
Characters: Queen Guinevere | King Arthur | Sir Lancelot du Lac | Sir Gawain | Sir Kay | Sir Robin Dagonet | Sir Bedivere | Sir Bors | Lady Bertilak

Guinevere: "On your marks..."

King Arthur: "... what are marks?"

Guinevere: "Get set!"

King Arthur: "Does that mean get ready? Why not say get ready?"

Guinevere: "GO!"

King Arthur and Guinevere have managed to find a room that is made up of one gigantic monitor - all four walls and the ceiling and the floor. They, and several others, stand to watch the newest spectacle of Space Britain - fighter races. Many of the Knights of the Round Table had taken up fighters to replace their horses when not on the ground and, being knights, found a new way to prove their valour.

Sir Lancelot du Lac speeds into first place in an instant. His ship is long a sleek with a shiny exterior coat. To gain some extra speed the fighter opens two nacelles that gleam with red plasma and burn brightly. The craft, named Berić, blasts off ahead of the pack by far. Second, though by a great margin, is Sir Gawain and his own fighter named Gringolet. Unlike Berić, which is slim and sleek, Gringolet is a chunky monster of a craft. It has a snubbed nose and a total of six wings - three on either side. Each wing, however, has its own nacelle that growls with green energy and prompts the machine to a tremendous speed once it picks up some momentum. It is painted sky blue with a cool-face emoji stuck on its rear for everyone behind to be angered by.

King Arthur: "Lancelot is going to win. Was there ever any doubt?"

Sir Kay: "He tends to blow his load quite quick though."

Silence reigns.

Sir Kay: "I didn't mean-- I mean, I don't know what happens in his-- I meant the ship, okay!?"

King Arthur: "Why aren't you racing, you layabout!?"

Sir Kay: "Why aren't you racing!?"

King Arthur: "Because I'm king! They'd let me win."

Sir Kay: "I wouldn't!"

King Arthur: "You're not even racing!"

Sir Kay: "Oh yeah."

King Arthur: "Admit it, Kay. You knew you'd lose!"

Sir Kay: "Absolutely I'd lose! Bedivere is out there! He'd probably insult some alien space monster's mother and get us torn to pieces!"

Queen Guinevere: "You're always having such marvellous adventures, Sir Kay. If only every knight were as gallant as you and Sir Bedivere..."

Sir Kay: "Uh... gallant. Sure. We totally try to get into trouble all the time."

Sir Robin is giving a play-by-play race commentary;

Sir Robin: "And it looks like Lancelot is in first! His famous ship the-- ah-- the Thingy-me-bob is really fast. And there's Sir Galahad-- No, sorry! Sir Gawain! Always getting them mixed up. Why'd they both have names starting with G, huh? And there's Sir Bedivere! Is he going backwards!? Oh, that's the front of the ship? Which way is up in space anyway?"

King Arthur: "I wish he was racing. Maybe he'd crash into an asteroid."

Speaking of, the race course goes straight through a dense asteroid field. The ships weave around the big space rocks. Small pebbles slap against their shields and bounce off.

Queen Guinevere: "Why isn't The Black Knight racing? I thought she would enjoy this."

King Arthur: "She said she's busy being possessed."

Queen Guinevere: "Possessed!?"

King Arthur: "Something like that. Haunted maybe. I don't know. I never could tell undead apart."

Sir Bedivere: "Well, Sire, you have poltergeists, ghosts, ghouls, zombies, vampires--"

Sir Kay: "Focus on the race, idiot boy!"

Sir Bedivere's ship almost slams into a rather large ice-rock.

Sir Bedivere: "--lich, wights, draugrs, wraiths--"

Bedivere's ship then snags its wing on an enormous, and easily-avoided asteroid that he didn't notice, and goes spinning off.

Sir Kay: "Add retarded knights to that list of undead."

Lancelot's ship, still in the lead, bursts from the field and into open space. It lasts but a brief moment as the course then enters a planet's atmosphere. The planet, according to records, is called Tress. It has two distinct populations on it - one in the western hemisphere and one in the east. The two sides have been split by a long river but neither of the two civilisations have yet encroached on that uncharted territory.

The ships dive towards the planet and begin to whizz along the River Split itself. Water kicks up behind Lancelot's nacelles.

Sir Lancelot: "Wahoo!"

King Arthur: "That was a stupid noise, Lancelot. I hereby decree the exclamation wahoo is illegal."

Then Lancelot's red-plasma dissipates and he's left with nothing but his standard rear engines to drive him along. Yet he has an immense lead as he reaches the north pole of the planet and second place, Sir Gawain, only just enters the atmosphere.

King Arthur: "He'll still win."

Sir Kay: "Maybe he'll find a damsel-in-distress and stop racing."

King Arthur: "... Lancelot, the next woman who asks you to save her is, in fact, a transvestite. Don't try to save him."

Sir Lancelot: "Jacques le Bleu!

King Arthur: "... And stop being French!"

Berić jukes in and out of the ice canyons of the north pole and Lancelot turns the ship on its side to give it more room to manoeuvre. Meanwhile Sir Gawain is skating along the water of the River Split but Sir Aggravain is just behind him. Aggravain's ship is small and nimble and coloured completely black. In the dark of space, the ship would be invisible to the naked eye. Aggravain skirts the water closely and attempts to overtake the Gringolet by scraping underneath it. Gawain lowers his craft to block that route, which prompts Aggravain to rise quickly. He skims ahead of Gawain and jiggles his ship's wings in a celebration of victory.

At just that moment a long-legged creature, similar to elephants but much bigger, is striding across the river. The two ships break either way and have to circle around the massive, snorting creature. This shaves off time for the pair of them and allows Sir Bors to take the lead. He makes the daring path through the elephant-creature's legs and reaches second place. His own craft is flat-shaped and bright white. Sir Kay referred to it as 'The Dinner Plate' and since then, no matter how much Sir Bors insisted otherwise, The Dinner Plate had caught on amongst the other knights.

Sir Bors: "At least this dinner plate is going to win!"

Sir Kay: "You know you have your communications turned on?"

Sir Bors: "Bollocks!"

Berić makes its ascent, back into space, leaving behind the frozen pole of Tress. The course ran close to one of the planet's many moons. This one was elongated and yellow, making it look like Homer Simpson's head - not that anyone knew who that was. The ship cruised close to the moon's craters, which gave an odd face-like quality to the asteroid, before his ship blasted off towards the dead planet of Trogdor.

Once a healthy and vibrant world, Trogdor's atmosphere was stripped away and only its burning core was left to orbit the Tress System's sun. Trogdor is in a constant state of burnination.

The Dinner Plate whizzes through the ice canyon's of Tress' north pole, closely followed by Sir Aggravain and Sir Gawain.

Sir Bors: "This will be a tight squeeze!"

Sir Kay: "Ha! That's what she said!"

Lady Bertilak: "Disgraceful!"

Sir Kay: "Was it you that said it then?"

Arthur and Guinevere had to hold Lady Bertilak at bay as the woman tore off a high-heeled shoe and tries to bludgeon Sir Kay with it.

Sir Bors' ship turns on its side and is able to get through some of the smallest passages available.

Sir Kay: "Smallest passages, hahaha! I bet! Hahahaha!"

Lady Bertilak: "Laughing to yourself now? Nobody else finds you entertaining, I suppose!"

Sir Kay: "Ya ma finds me entertaining!"

She takes off the other shoe and is head back again by a desperate king and queen.

Sir Bors: "I'm catching up!"

The Dinner Plate reaches the Homer moon.

Sir Kay: "By the way, aren't we supposed to be helping some people against some evil empire?"

King Arthur: "Yes, yes. I couldn't think up a good plan, so this will do for now! After the race, I promise I'll do something proper."

Sir Kay: "Said the Writer..."

King Arthur: "Shhhhh!"

Lancelot slingshots around Trogdor's gravity well and makes the return run. He watches Sir Bors, Aggravain and Gawain go past and gives a little wave through his window.

Sir Aggravain: "Cheeky bastard! I'll give him something to wave at!"

Sir Kay: "That's what she s-- okay I'll stop."

The three latter knights complete their own slingshots. Sir Gawain, having the better engines, manages to come out in front and speeds on. His six wings burn with Trogdor's heat as he skirts the planet's core.

Lancelot, still in first, suddenly crashes into the limping ship of Sir Bedivere. The two ships spin off and plummet towards Homer's moon. There they both crash in a heap.

Sir Kay: "What did I say, eh? He's a walking, or flying, disaster-waiting-to-happen."

He leans forward to speak into the communicator.

Sir Kay: "Well done, Bedivere."

Sir Bedivere: "Lucky this moon was here to break our fall!"

Sir Kay: "That's not how space works."

Sir Lancelot: "What are the rules about duelling to the death!?"

Sir Kay: "Nice knowing you Bedivere."

In the end it is Sir Gawain that takes the lead and passes through the atmosphere of Tress. The return flight is much smoother and he wins by a significant margin. Sir Aggravain comes second and The Dinner Plate, with Sir Bors, comes third.

Queen Guinevere: "Now perhaps we should help those people?"

King Arthur: "On to Corrugated-pants!"

Queen Guinevere: "Coruscant."

King Arthur: "That's what I said!"

THE DYNAMIC DUO'S DARING DEEDS DEVELOP WITH DERRING-DO!

Xerxes Rumplekirk and Aellah are sitting together on a starliner, which they boarded at the spaceport that the Aeon Lords' shuttle took them to. Now in deep space, Xerxes is fidgeting restlessly, while Aellah is wolfing down complimentary turnips and admiring a nearby nebula through the viewport.

Aellah: Gosh, isn't this beautiful?

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Yeah, but boring. I am a gentleman adventurer, not a sheep! ...also there are no daring women to romance on this flight.

Random Passenger #1: Shhh! I can't hear the in-flight holomovie!

Aellah and Xerxes blithely ignore him.

Aellah: I mean, you could always stir up some trouble if you're that bored.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: I find it ever so slightly disturbing that you smile that blissfully while suggesting that.

Aellah: I'd apologize, but you'd no doubt find it equally disturbing.

Xerxes takes what is apparently a pocketwatch on a chain out of his vest. Upon flipping it open, it more resembles a compass. That is, if a compass unfolded into an arcane contraption boasting 5 faces with multiple dials, indicators, and flashing lights.

Aellah: Say, that's pretty neat, what is it?

Xerxes Rumplekirk: My compass. Was a gift from the Grand Duchess Diggleton to my sister, but Zimma's hopeless when it comes to esotericatronics, so she let me have it instead. Oooh! Looks like something interesting is nearby!

Aellah: Really? What's that?

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Hmm, coming from that direction...wait, the distance is further than the bounds of this ship--

With a sudden boom, the starliner shudders. The lights go out, but are quickly replaced by red emergency lights.

Aellah: Oh hey, there's a star galleon next to us! Pirates!

Xerxes peers out the viewport around Aellah's head, and sees that indeed a medium-sized cruiser (smaller than the gargantuan starliner) is adjacent to them. He can't see the ship's name, but there is a stylized star with two crossbones - the galactic symbol for pirates.

Random Passenger #2: Forget the pirates. They interrupted the movie, dammit!

Xerxes hops up and dashes down the aisle, followed a split second later by Aellah.

Stewardess: Please stay calm, everyone--

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Calm? This is exciting!

Stewardess: Sir, please return to your seat--

The door at the end of the compartment opens, and in come three menacing figures. One is a cyborg Grey. The second is a feline Fiolxon. The third, and tallest, is a woman with three eyes and bright green skin. Her black hair is in long dreadlocks falling past her voluptuous hips. She wears an outfit not dissimilar to Captain Jack Sparrow's (although Johnny Depp doesn't wear stiletto heels), and a pet gryphon sits on her shoulder.

Green Woman: Look lively, everyone! You're looking at the most fearsome pirate this side of the Myst Sector!

Random Passenger #3: *gasp* Kaptin Kwanzaa???

The green pirate woman scowls, her body briefly turning a shade of light purple, and promptly blasts the offending pasenger.

Green Woman: I am way better than that two-bit skeleton! He hasn't robbed half the giant starliners that I have! I am Captain Tsou de Ming! Master of the Bloated Scallywag, fastest star galleon in the galaxy! Scourge of the Seven Sectors! Piratrix extraordinaire! And--

Xerxes Rumplekirk: And very beautiful.

Tsou de Ming turns a very startled shade of blue, then looks put out that her list of epithets was interrupted, but given that it was for a compliment, chooses not to blast him.

Tsou de Ming: Flattery will not save you, civilian!

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Tis no flattery, but simple truth, Suzie m'dear!

The other two pirates guffaw, but quickly quell their laughter when Tsou de Ming glares at them.

Tsou de Ming: My name is Tsou, not Sue, and most certainly not Suzie. You shall address me as Captain Tsou de Ming!

Xerxes Rumplekirk: You are far more dashing and daring and dazzling--

Aellah: Also a violent psychopath probably, given how she fried that poor bastard without provocation...

Tsou de Ming: Hey! Nameless bystanders who exist only for the sake of a joke don't count!

Xerxes Rumplekirk: --than anyone here!

Tsou de Ming's skin turns a pleased shade of orange, but her mouth works uncertainly, unsure how to respond to this unusual civilian.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Can I hitch a ride with you, Suzie? It'd be a more of a hoot than this liner!

Tsou de Ming turns dark purple, her visage darkening.

Tsou de Ming: You do not make demands of me! And my name is Captain Tsou de Ming!

Xerxes spreads his arms expansively in a gesture of placation.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: I'm sure we can come to an understanding--

Tsou de Ming: We sure can! That looks valuable. Gimme!

Xerxes Rumplekirk: I beg your--

He yelps as Tsou de Ming yanks his compass from his hand.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Hey! Give that back!

Tsou de Ming: This will do nicely. Ciao!

She and the two goons with her step back through the compartment door and slap the button to close it before Xerxes or Aellah can react. The sound of a blaster shot frying the controls can be heard.

Aellah: Well, that's unfortunate. Still, with the three eyes and color-changing skin, I'd bet she's a Cameeli. Purple means they're angry. Actually they turn purple when they're turned on too, so there's an even chance you've still got a shot with her!

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Argh! I demand you come back here this instant, Suzie!

He pounds on the door. Meanwhile, everyone else in the compartment bursts into applause.

Random Passenger #4: He saved us!

Random Passenger #5: Annoyed her so much she left without robbing the rest of us!

Random Passenger #6: Shame about Random Passenger #3 though...

Stewardess: My hero!

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Never mind that! My compass!

He starts bashing on the compartment door with his cane.

Aellah: That cane will break before the door does, you know.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Smiling blissfully while stating unhelpful things just comes off as smug. Also, this was crafted by an Engineer in Discharding! It's unbreakable! It's a marvel of clockwork artistry! It's--

The cane snaps in two.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: It's not my cane.

He hands it back to a perplexed old hian fellow and manages to accept his actual cane from Aellah's proffered hand with some dignity.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Er, I can reimburse you for the cane, sir. And for the trouble!

He rummages through his waistcoast for some no-doubt-priceless Discharding coinage, but Aellah steps forward.

Aellah: That won't help him get around until he gets a new one. Sir, if you'll allow it, I can grant your limbs some strength. It will be temporary, a few days at most, but will help you get around until you find a new cane.

The old barkskinned man nods uncertainly, and Aellah concentrates. Vigor surges into the old man's limbs, and he yelps in surprised glee as he stands up without any aches or creaks.

Old Hian Man: Amazing!

More applause. This time the stewardess swoons for Aellah. Wow, she's fickle.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Again, sorry for the trouble, sir.

He gives the old fellow a small bag of coins, before returning to banging on the compartment door, this time with his unbreakable cane.

Aellah: Allow me.

Aellah ignites his neon pink ruhand - eliciting murmurs of 'Aeon Knight!' from the passengers - and slices through the door.

Aellah: I believe you have a compass to retrieve?

Xerxes Rumplekirk: What did I tell you about being smug? Er, sorry about the door, too.

He tosses another small bag of valuable coins to the stewardess, before he and Aellah dash through the hole in the door into the next compartment. They run down the aisles through several compartments - the starliner is quite large - but fortunately Tsou de Ming didn't seal any of the other doors.

Unfortunately, some more of her pirate goons are in the other compartments, taking jewelry off the passengers at blasterpoint.

Xerxes Rumplekirk: Stay your greedy paws! No gentleman adventurer would see innocents divested of what is rightfully theirs!

One of the pirates blinks at Xerxes uncomprehendingly. The other four goons in that compartment just raise their blasters and start firing...

**********

NSP: Anyone is free to continue this action scene if they wish! However, please don't delve much into Xerxes Rumplekirk's background, as I have some details in mind for that, which I will write in a later post.

Also, please don't off Captain Tsou de Ming {"Suzie"), as I plan for her to be a recurring character in Xerxes and Aellah's adventures, as well as a combination of rival and love interest for Xerxes. Thanks!

Space Camelot
Orinoco Flow

Location: Command Deck | Camelot
Characters: King Arthur | Mysterious Witch | Merlin the Younger | Tom a'Lincoln | Queen Guinevere | Sir Lancelot | Sir Robin Ragonet | Morganna le Fay | Prince Mordred | Sir Tristram | The Black Knight

The unnecessarily humongous space vessel, Camelot, strove to maintain its position in proximity to the planet Orinoco Flow. King Arthur initially suspected someone had been listening to too much Enya but upon reaching the planet he realised that the world was, indeed, in a perpetual state of flow. The water world was covered in one seemingly endless blanket of ocean that flowed in an eternal, single direction - led by a wave that would dwarf any mountain of Earth. The trail end of the ocean gave way to a dry strip of barren rock that would, in a month, be swallowed by the head of the ocean on its return trip. The ocean would take one whole year to cross the planet in and endless cycle.

Once, every year, the base of the powerful Dread Masters would be revealed for just one month before it was subsumed again by the ocean and inaccessible to those without the power to withstand the ocean's terrible force.

On the Command Deck of Camelot, King Arthur was waiting impatiently for the ocean to reveal the face of evil. Knights were kitted and ready to deploy in space-boats and Arthur himself was itching for battle. He wore his armoured space-suit of white and gold, with Excalibur at his side.

King Arthur: "How long must we wait, witch?"

Mysterious Witch: "You know, I'm not actually a witch, right? I a man for starters."

King Arthur: "Don't be sexist! Men can be witches too!"

Mysterious Witch: "Right. Whatever. I'm still not a witch."

King Arthur: "How much longer!"

The man, a human with grey hair and a thick beard, started writing down some calculations on a strip of paper.

Mysterious Witch: "Five minutes sooner than when you asked me last."

King Arthur: "Charlatan! I should have you arrested! And flogged!"

He paused.

King Arthur: "Flogged means whipped, right? Or does it mean given cake and a bath?"

Merlin: "It means whipped."

King Arthur: "Right! A good flogging, I think!"

Mysterious Witch: "The chances of you actually flogging me are..."

He wrote some new calculations.

Mysterious Witch: "Very low."

Merlin: "That's not very precise..."

Mysterious Witch: "This isn't science, you know?"

Tom a'Lincoln: "I think we should let the knights take a bathroom break, sire, before they pee in their suits."

Mysterious Witch: "There should be just enough time for a break, aye!"

King Arthur: "Just enough time!? So if the knights to on break will they be back in time!?"

Mysterious Witch: "Depends on how long a bathroom break you give them."

King Arthur: "How long should I give them!? You tell me! That's what you were hired for!"

Mysterious Witch: "Well, arguing with me means they now don't have enough time. They'll have to pee when they get down to the planet now."

King Arthur: "GAH! Whose idea was it to hire this buffoon!?"

There was much silence in the room.

Mysterious Witch: "Yours, I believe!"

King Arthur: "God damn it!"

The knights winced at the blasphemy.

Mysterious Witch: "You should send your knights now."

Arthur glanced at the viewscreen to see no buildings.

King Arthur: "But there's nothing there!"

Mysterious Witch: "There will be by the time the shuttles arrive!"

King Arthur: "What's a shuttle?"

Merlin: "He means the space boats."

Mysterious Witch: "You need to get there before the Dread Masters know they are under attack. Otherwise they'll mount a defence before your knights even arrive and they'll be slaughtered."

He wrote some more calculations.

Mysterious Witch: "Every second your chances of victory drop."

Arthur turned and pointed at Merlin imperiously.

King Arthur: "Order the attack!"

Merlin shuffled in her robe and then looked at Tom a'Lincoln. Tom then gave the order to attack. Realising the mistake, Arthur, with some embarrassment, shifted his finger to point at Tom instead. From the hangar bay of the colossal ship spat several space boats, which streaked through the atmosphere of Orinoco Flow and sped downwards like flaming comets.

Sir Lancelot: "FOR GREAT JUSTICE!"

The knight's bellow blasted through the communications system and Arthur swelled with pride.

King Arthur: "That's my friend! Go on, give them Hell!"

Mysterious Witch: "I just calculated his fortune and I'm sorry to tell you, he's probably going to die down there."

King Arthur: "WHAT!? THAT CAN'T BE! NOT LANCELOT! NOT MY BEST FRIEND!!!"

Arthur looked like he might cry.

Mysterious Witch: "Oops! Sorry! Wrong knight!"

There was a collective groan at the ineptitude of this stranger.

King Arthur: "Then... who?"

Mysterious Witch: "Someone called Sir Robin Dagonet."

Arthur's hopes blazoned.

King Arthur: "What are his chances exactly!?"

Mysterious Witch: "I would say ten percent survival chance."

Arthur deflated.

King Arthur: "Damn. Ten percent are odds enough for Sir Robin. Doubtless he'll survive, somehow!"

Queen Guinevere then swept into the room in her long, white dress. Somehow it never got dirty, despite constantly brushing along the floor. The doors hissed shut behind her.

Queen Guinevere: "I have just heard from some of our friends on Terra Flux that the evil emperor of the Sith Empire is currently with the Dread Masters. Succeed here, my husband, and you will not only vanquish a great evil in the galaxy but you'll free all of humanity in the Perseus Arm!"

King Arthur: "Success is guaranteed!"

Mysterious Witch: "Actually, there's a few new variables since you didn't send your knights the very second I said you should. And if they need the bathroom they might..."

King Arthur: "The chances of your beheading increase with every word you speak, charlatan!"

Merlin: "The last space boat is waiting for us, sire!"

King Arthur: "Good. Witch, let's go."

The man picked up his stationary and followed Merlin and Arthur from the Command Deck. They would be going down last, along with Morganna le Fay, Prince Mordred and Sir Tristram - Tristram had wanted to go first but in light of his wife's poor health, the witch had given his chances of survival as negligible should he go with the first wave. Arthur had expected the same result for The Black Knight, who had lost her mother, but the witch revealed she stood a better chance of surviving if she went first, likely fuelled by rage in the midst of battle. Arthur hated to admit it but the witch's predictions had proven useful in making the battle plans - provided everything he predicted came to pass.

---

Location: Spaceboat
Characters: Sir Gawain | Sir Bors

The spaceboat rocked vigorously as it plunged through the planet's atmosphere. Sir Gawain was strapped into his seat but turned his head to look out of the portal window at the world below. He could see the Great Wave of Orinoco Flow in the distance. It seemed so close from this altitude but it would take a month to reach them once they were on the planet proper. The barren strip seemed to be moving along too, forever chasing the waves. Even as he watched, a massive structure was revealed as the ocean moved away from it. It looked like a blackened castle - charred by dark, evil flames. It had many twisted spires and seemed the epitome of every stereotypical evil aesthetic that Sir Gawain could have conjured.

Sir Bors: "We're coming in to land! Be ready, knights!"

Sir Bors was piloting the space boat. Sir Gawain was finding it difficult to get his head around many of the new technologies of Camelot but Sir Bors seemed to take to them like a duck to water. Hopefully the landing would be softer than the last time.

SPACE CAMELOT: OLD WOUNDS

In Space Camelot's hospital wing, high above Algernon, Merlin and Newrias still tend to the wounded patients. There are fewer of them now; a few have died and been laid to rest, but most of them recovered enough to be discharged. Merlin is currently putting an alchemical paste onto a big burly knight's knee.

Big Burly Knight: Eeeee! It stings!

...who is currently squealing like a little girl.

Merlin: Men, honestly. It's just a scrape. Now hush up and let me get back to the others who need more attention.

Morganna: Are you still in here, Lynne?

Merlin doesn't reply, setting her lips into a thin line. After a moment, Morganna rolls her eyes.

Morganna: I'm sorry, Merlin. It's so nonsensical to call you that though. After all, the real Merlin could've waved his hands and healed all these knights in moments.

Merlin: Do you need something, Morganna?

Morganna: I need Sir Tristram to stop bloody begging me to save his wife's life, since he says you won't do it. Honestly, it's driving me to buggery bits, how he goes on. I'd rather have Sir Light-Bulb bothering me about my knickers again.

Newrias: What's a light-bulb?

Merlin: The glass torches, Newrias.

Newrias: Oh, right!

Merlin: I've told Sir Tristram that Lady Isolde is stable for the moment. Several times.

Morganna: Men are stupid when it comes to love.

She pauses a beat.

Morganna: Really? No indignation from you, drow-boy?

Newrias raises his eyebrows in surprise.

Newrias: Um, sorry! I'm still not completely used to being able to speak out to women.

Morganna: Don't apologize. I like it. We should've stayed on Caledonia, might've gotten the matriarchy thing to catch on with us.

Merlin: If there's nothing else, Morganna... Real Merlin, indeed, hmph.

Morganna: Touchy, are we?

Merlin pauses before replying, and when she does, her voice is rather softer than Morganna would expect.

Merlin: Do you ever miss him, Morganna?

Several years ago, the original Merlin had taught three women in the ways of magic: the vampire Nyneve, Morganna, and the younger Merlin herself, then known as Lynne. He'd been betrayed and sealed away, however.

Morganna: That randy old fool? Not a whit. He deserved what he got. Skank drops her knickers for him and pounces when his guard is down, what else did he expect?

Newrias: I guess men really are stupid when it comes to love.

Merlin shoots him a look.

Merlin: Don't say that, Newrias. Women can be just as stupid.

Morganna: And how would you know that? You've never so much as kissed a man, have you?

Merlin turns bright red, and sputters. Morganna grins victoriously.

Morganna: Now then, I'll take a look at Lady Isolde.

Merlin: She's my patient. And you barely know anything about healing.

Morganna: It's not my fault that raining destruction down on my foes while cackling madly is so much more entertaining than stitching them up afterwards! Besides, this is a magically induced condition, from what I hear. Restored Sir Tristram from the brink of death? I might have some insight. And if it gets the wretched man to stop pestering me about it...

Merlin: Ugh, fine. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't already turned him into a toad or something.

Morganna: I did. Twice. He just keeps ribbitting at me.

Newrias can't help but snort a laugh, which he quickly tries to cover. Morganna goes over to where Lady Isolde is lying in a coma. The necromancer is even paler than usual, and her breathing is shallow, but regular.

Morganna: Hmm. Alder.

Merlin: What?

Newrias: Here, ma'am.

He has appeared at Morganna's side and profferred a small branch of alder wood. Morganna looks victoriously at Merlin.

Morganna: Told you we should've stayed on Caledonia. Good boy.

She talks to him like one would a pet, and Newrias beams. Merlin scowls. Morganna hums to herself briefly, then sets the branch into Isolde's hands.

Morganna: The tree is associated with both life and death. A good match for Isolde in her current state, I think.

Merlin eyes the branch dubiously.

Merlin: You sure it'll help?

Morganna shrugs.

Morganna: Can't hurt! At least it'll get Sir Tristram off my back for a few days. Toodle, I've got places to be! Men to date, you know.

She shoots a vicious smirk Merlin's way, relishing the bald woman's furious blush before sailing out.