The Siege of Caerleon

When Ulysses finished his story, I looked to my right at Lucia.

“When you said that you lived on Hadrian when it was still a backwater colony,” I said. “You mean to say…”

“After I settled in, I checked the dates,” Lucia smiled. “I was born on Hadrian seven hundred years ago.”

Everything made so much sense that it was depressing how clean the pieces fit together. Ulysses’s motivation to return home, his senseless disregard for anything else, how conveniently everyone around him fell in line. Of course. Nothing like the zealotry of a homeward journey to bond people together.

“You said you got better at finding others affected like you,” I said. “How?”

“There’s a discrete energy signature that fires when the Chalice sends someone to this timeline,” Ulysses explained. “Our contemporary instrumentation is almost too primitive to register it, but we’ve managed thus far.”

“And you’re sure you want to go home?” I asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Just from your story,” I said. “You were drowned by the waves near your home. If the Chalice returns you to your origin, then wouldn’t you…”

“Drown?” Ulysses finished. “Yes, I suppose that’s one possibility. But even if I were to return to that exact spot, that would be where I belonged, Miss Greymoor. Imagine walking through a world that is not your own. I’m not one to be haunted by the paradoxes of time, but a part of me does not register this world as even real.”

“Not real?”

“Sometimes, the flicker of a candlelight will appear unnatural,” Ulysses said. “The visages of others will appear like hallucinations, like mirages, like they are not truly there. There appears to be something deeply unsettling about my senses, like I am a tranquil soul or ghost walking in the world of the living. It makes me restless, Miss Greymoor, makes me yearn even for the sweet comfort of death.”

“I don’t seem real to you?” I asked.

“Only sometimes,” Ulysses smiled weakly.

Finally, I turned to Diane. She stared at the bottom of an empty cup. The card strapped to her pendant hung like the dead.

“Diane,” I said softly. “What do you think?

“What do you mean what do I think?” she snorted.

“Nightwing,” I said. “She was lost with all hands during the Siege of Caerleon. That was less than ten years ago. That would mean your skip through time was much shorter than the others.”

“It is strange, don’t you think?” she said. “Ulysses and his Sunless Fleet was already searching for stragglers when Nightwing was still in service at Caerleon. And then, a flash of light, and the Pirate King informs you that you’re now on the same side.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said.

The Siege of Caerleon.

A day that lived still in the minds of every Caerleonian in the imperial core. A hundred ships appeared without warning over the skies. Within minutes, billions had died as warships scorched the southern continent.

Remember what I said? The classical problem of planetary defense.

Caerleon’s military was nowhere to be found. Many ships would take minutes to reach the planet, a lifetime considering a single warship could vaporize half a continent in that amount of time. Those in the north saw the ships in the distance and knew that it was hopeless.

That’s when the first warship exploded. Survivors saw something pierce its midsection. The video feeds showed a second round cracked the ship in half and its carcass fell into the ocean. Then the second warship detonated in similar circumstances, then the third and the fourth, and the survivors began to think that help had arrived.

What nobody saw that day was Nightwing flashing across Caerleon, striking down her enemies with ruthless precision. Over the course of several minutes, Nightwing was responsible for ninety three enemy kills. The oceans burned with raging deuterium.

The enemy began to flee, but a civilian transport had arrived as they were running away. The surviving enemy ships, with their tails tucked between their legs, must have loved having received one final stroke of luck, one final batch of innocent souls to murder.

They took aim and fired.

The civilian transport survived. Those aboard claimed to have seen an object place itself between them and the incoming missiles. The rest of the Caerleon military arrived afterwards and cleaned up the stragglers. Some onboard the transport also cited having seen an extraordinary flash of light, which experts chalked to Nightwing’s Lemmings-Hyder drive exploding in spectacular fashion.

Well, I guess I now knew where that flash of light had come from.

In the eyes of the general public, Nightwing did not exist and never would exist. For years, I had believed that it was Knight Captain Gawain and Noble Interception who had saved Caerleon. He had even received commendations in public before the monarchs, knowing full well that he had taken the accolades of others.

“If you return to your timeline,” I said. “Then it’s during the Siege of Caerleon.”

“I suppose,” Diane shrugged.

“So you, Emiko, Stephen and Vladimir,” I murmured. “All of you…”

Diane didn’t answer. She continued to stare at the bottom of her cup. She held it out, motioned at Lucia to pour her some more.

“We all knew the terms of the Sunless Fleet,” Ulysses said. “Diane and Nightwing are no different.”

“Finally!”

A surge of energy pulsed from the inert dimensional gate behind us. Peter stood back. A whirl and a whine later, the gateway returned with its cerulean hue.

“I’ve reclaimed control of most of the library’s security functions,” Peter said. “You should have regained access to some of your own devices as well. Let me see to the Caxton now.”

“Kindred Lancer,” Ulysses snapped open his wristband. “Respond.”

“Sir!” came a relieved cry on the other end. “Sir, what happened? We lost contact shortly after the rebels dropped into the system.”

“Nevermind us, status report.”

“We jumped to subspace moments after the fighting started,” Friede explained. “Some burn marks and busted up engines, but nothing permanent. The witch and the rebels have been exchanging fire since the beginning. It’s messy.”

“Nightwing is prepared for immediate extraction,” Emiko’s icy voice came clear through the communicator.

“Meet us at the library entrance then,” Ulysses ordered. “We’re on our way out. Librarian, hurry it up with the relic.”

Peter returned to us with a miniature golden chest in his hands. He held it before Ulysses, unlatched the front locks, and pulled the lid open. All of us peered inside.

For some reason, part of me thought that the Caxton Manuscript wasn’t really a book, that it was just a namesake for something else. But nope. Lying inside the chest was a thick dusty tomb, surrounded by a brimming energy field that formed the shape of a lock.

“Unfortunately, I have neither the time nor the expertise to dismantle the digital lock on the Caxton,” Peter said. “This you will have to figure out for yourself.”

“It’ll have to be good enough,” Ulysses said. “Let’s go.”

“Will you be able to make it back to the library entrance on your own?” Peter asked. “If so, I would ask that you make your way there on your own.”

“What about the other dimensional gates?” I asked. “We may need your help to open them.”

“They are open,” Peter answered. “However, the Infinite Library’s defenses are not sufficient to repel potential intruders. I must return to the system core and reactivate the prime program before they arrive.”

“We’ll get there on our own,” Ulysses took the chest and hoisted it with one arm.

“Then I wish you all the best of luck,” Peter bowed. “May we meet again under friendlier circumstances.”

We split off. This time, Ulysses took the lead and rushed through the dimensional gates. Diane, on the other hand, lagged behind Ulysses’s brisk footsteps, her eyes bouncing from shelf to shelf as we passed.

“We have to move faster,” I urged her.

“I’m taking in the sights,” Diane pouted. “Who knows when I’ll see the architecture of the Infinite Library again.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course.”

Once we reached the entrance, the dropship that had accompanied us to the library was nowhere to be found. Unsurprising, considering Morgan had not intended for any of us to leave. The morning skies burned with an afternoon glow. Deep tremors and thunderous claps slammed against Hadrian’s planetary shield.

“Emiko,” Diane said. “Be advised. Hadrian’s shield network is active.”

Emiko didn’t respond. Garbled audio fry bled out of Diane’s communicator.

“I’m getting interference,” Diane told Ulysses. “Can you reach anyone?”

“Nothing,” Ulysses said. “Something’s happened.”

The earth rumbled beneath our feet. The waves grew restless and crashed against the shores of the island. I thought I recognized the water. I had seen it somewhere before. An echo trumpeted across the ocean. Subspace tunnels opened above us. Slender ships appeared out of the tunnels, their insignias dressed in imperial white and blue.

“It’s Caerleon,” I whispered. “It’s the imperial navy.”

Thousands of ships emerged from subspace. The clear skies, the lapping waves. I had seen this all before in my visions. That’s how I saw the silhouette of the titan before it even emerged. While not the size of Archon Waystation, the behemoth was large enough to serve as Hadrian’s own moon. I had heard whispers of a newly constructed titan, a gift by Arthur Pendragon to his newest and most loyal knight.

A sharp whine registered in both Diane and Ulysses’s communicators.

“This is Admiral Lance of the Incorrigible,” declared a stern, proud voice. “To all enemies of Caerleon, those who lay down their arms immediately shall be spared.”

“Incredible,” Manhunter’s voice gasped. “Absolutely incredible. So this is the steed gifted to Caerleon’s most revered knight captain. Incorrigible.”

“I repeat, this is Admiral Lance of the Incorrigible,” the knight captain ignored the admiration of his newest fan. “Lay down your arms and surrender. You will be given at most one chance to comply.”

“It’s the Nightwing!” Lucia pointed.

On the horizon, the corvette cruised just above the ocean surface. She kicked up sand and water as she touched down on the shore. An entry ramp dropped. I spotted Stephen at the entrance.

“Let’s go!” he shouted.

Ulysses and Lucia rushed aboard. I followed them until I realized that Diane was no longer behind me. I looked back.

Captain Lunova stood alone on the beach. Her eyes were closed, her neck tilted towards the skies. Her arms lay outstretched and basked in the breeze. She had thrown away her shoes. Her naked toes wiggled beneath the sand.

“What are you doing?” I yelled.

Diane’s eyes snapped open and turned to me. Her face melted into a tranquil, dignified smile. Her fingers touched her necklace.

“This is as far as I go,” Diane called back.

“What?” I shouted. “What are you talking about? Come on!”

Diane tore her pendant off her neck and threw it at me.

“Find me in the connection,” she said. “The galaxy is yours for the taking, Elaine.”

A thunderous crack. Hadrian’s planetary shields splintered apart. Missiles from the Incorrigible surged through the breach and detonated over Nightwing’s shields.

“No!” I screamed.

A stray missile struck the shoreline. The explosion knocked me back into the cargo hold where I hit my head against the bulkhead. Darkness creeped in. The exit ramp retracted and sealed off the blast, but all I saw were the flames that consumed Diane’s body and soul.