The Rebirth of Arthur
It has been said that when the body of the great King Arthur was moved to Avalon, breath still slipped past his lips and blood still pumped through his veins. The mighty warrior of Britain still clung to life by a thread before he was taken through the mists. Rumoured to have healed him and secluded him among the fogs and shades of fairyland, Morgan le Fay left Avalon without her half-brother, who was never seen or heard from again. The old people of Britain have spread rumours from village to village, from city to city that when they have lost all hope and are in desperate need of assistance, their powerful warrior will rise again. Four thousand years have passed and the story has been mostly forgotten. But Britain is now entrenched in a war of worlds, and the time is ripe for a hero…
Kingston Fields, Somerset
08:03 May 14th, 4077
It's cold. Snow has swathed the grass in powdery whiteness, and I can see my breath in front of my face when I breathe. Kay's excited, but I'm not. Not really. It's another year of a war I'm too young to fight in, but my big brother is finally being drafted. Kay had some problems with his lungs when he was younger, and that kept him out of the ranks for two years. Luckily he was able to have surgery to graft skin in the right places to help him breath better. He's healthy, but annoyed that his first scars are from scalpels, not plasma shots.
Ectorius, our father, has even given Kay his old blaster to take with him, but I don't see why. It will be exchanged with a high-tech, Government Issue replacement soon enough. I guess Kay can keep it for sentimental value.
The queue of boys and their families trudge along the grass, mucking up the pure white snow. It's fitting, I think. Somehow metaphorical.
Soon we're at the front and father is handing Kay's forms over to the Recruiter. She gives the three of us a blank stare.
"Isn't he a little old to be drafted?" She monotones, blinking.
Father tries to laugh it off.
"Well, he's a little young," he smiles, and points at me.
But it doesn't help. Kay is depressed now, I can feel it.
He hates the fact that he's going off to war two years late.
All the other boys in our town left at 16, but not Kay. And he hates me for this, in an odd, roundabout way. He hates the fact that he couldn't fight to save our planet at a normal age, and that I will. He takes it out on me.
But Kay loves me, he really does. It's just fate that's twisted his view of our situations. Two years of waiting have made him bitter, that's all. If he was in my position, I know he would love me even more than I do him now.
The Recruiter woman stamps Kay's files, and reaches for his wrist. Kay brightens again, as I knew he would. This is his favourite part. He's told me before that when he gets letters from his friends about being drafted, there's one part he can't get out of his head. Kay can't wait to be Branded.
Kay flips over his hand so that the inside of his wrist is up, and closes his eyes. The woman grabs his arm, and picks up a horrible-looking grey device from the table. She attaches it to Kay's wrist and I hear a sickening crunch when she flicks it on. The grey machine whirrs and hums, before detaching itself from Kay with a beep.
Kay's eyes open and meet mine briefly before sweeping down to look over the tattoo patterned across his wrist. It's a block of multicoloured numbers that depict Kay's rank, covering up the thin, crisscrossing scars left behind from where the machine slipped a chip under Kay's skin. I don't understand his excitement, but try to remain supportive.
"Say goodbye to any relatives and line up over there. You'll receive your uniform, weapon, and toiletries. Do you have any personal belongings you'd like to take?"
"Yes, actually… Arthur, will you get Dad's old blaster out of the car?"
"Sure," I respond and jog over to our cruiser. Just as I unlock it, a radio siren sounds from hidden speakers in the park, and I hear a disembodied voice echoing over the din.
"NEWS FROM THE BATTLEFIELD: SAXONS HAVE ATTACKED MAIN BASE AND HAVE BLASTED A HOLE IN THE SIDE. ALL SOLDIERS ARE TO REPORT TO SHIPS IMMEDIATELY FOR DEPARTURE TO STATION ALPHA."
From beside our cruiser, I watch as everyone begins to move frantically, loading things and Branding more soldiers so that they can participate in the counter attack. Remembering my task, I frantically search the cruiser, but Kay's gun has disappeared.
I can faintly hear Kay shouting to me, screaming for me to get his blaster. I yell back, trying to let it be known that I can't find the gun, but he can't hear me.
I sprint back to the fields, lungs straining and breathing heavy, and as I approach, I trip violently over something. A huge stone, more of a boulder.
Sticking out of the top of it is the handle of a gun. An old fashioned blaster. It looks like Kay's. I wrap my fingers around the piece of cool metal, not expecting the weapon to come loose when I tug. It doesn't, but out of sheer curiosity, I pull at it again. I feel compelled to keep trying.
The gun shifts slightly, and I watch in wonder as the stone around the gun starts to come loose. Heartened, I wrench it from the stone in one fluid motion, staring in awe at the blaster nestled in my hands.
It's beautiful, really. Not a scratch has been made on this weapon, though it has obviously been submerged in rock for more than a few years. The metal, upon closer examination, has not been painted black as is the style these days. And it isn't steel either, but something much more precious. It looks almost like Orphite, a type of metal found only in the centres of meteors. It's expensive-looking, a deep rich grey that's complemented with silver accents and some letters on its side. I brush away crumbly rock to make them legible. Excalibur X20. What an odd name for a gun.
"Arthur! Get your arse over here!" My brother roars and I straighten, still clutching the blaster.
Kay strides over to me and takes the gun. I want to tell him that the gun isn't his, but the words die on my lips. My brother is leaving me. He may not be alive the next time I see him. I hug him roughly, trying to ignore the tears leaking out of the corners of my eyes.
"Be safe," I whisper.
"Always," he answers, and grins. He is exhilarated, as he should be. He's trained for this moment for years. It's everything he's ever wanted, and I'm glad he can live out his dream of being a soldier.
I rejoin father as he says goodbye to Kay, and I can see a tear building in his eye too. My poor father. He knows what it's like, to have to fight in a war. He wouldn't wish this on anyone, least of all his own son.
We watch soberly as Kay dresses behind a screen. He emerges, looking triumphant and professional, the grey camouflage accenting his sharp looks. I find it odd that the Government still dresses its soldiers in camouflage. It's hardly necessary nowadays. If the troops are ever fighting on terrain, their suits change colours, like chameleons. I guess the World Organisers miss the old days and like to keep to a traditional army uniform.
Kay's unruly hair has been shaved off, and dog tags glint at his neck. He waves one last time before turning and following the line of newly-made soldiers boarding a Government ship. Just before he can slip through the doors however, he is stopped and pulled to the side. A man in black is waving his arms and pointing at Kay's gun, screaming.
My fault, I think immediately, and take off running, slipping through my dad's arms as he tries to restrain me.
"... And you're sure? Because if you're lying, so help me I will-"
"It's my fault!" I pant, clutching my chest.
Kay looks at me in surprise.
"I'm the one who pulled it out of the rock, I couldn't find Kay's real blaster and-"I gasp.
"You found it?" The man in black asks, interrupting me.
"Yes," I say confusedly, for the man in black just begins to smile.
"Wow," He murmurs to himself, seemingly lost in thought. "I never thought... Not in my lifetime..."
"Um, am I in trouble still?" Kay asks.
"No, no, you're free to board the ship soldier," The man has regained his composure. "But your friend here-"
"Brother," I interject.
"Sorry. Your brother, however, needs to see the captain. Immediately."
Captain's Quarters onboard the Gallant
09:36 May 14th, 4077
I'm sitting by myself in a beautiful room. It's sleek and modern, decorated in dark brown woods, silver and chrome appliances, and clean white leather and fabrics. I felt sterile simply sitting there. The most intriguing thing about the room, however, were the cases upon cases of artefact with tiny, perfect white note cards displaying where and when the trinkets were from. I had just finished thoroughly examining an ancient tile when a silver haired man entered the room. I hastily sat down.
"Welcome to the Gallant. I hope you've enjoyed your little tour of our ship."
I nod. The man in black had taken me through endlessly long hallways and into nearly thirty rooms, showing me what life on a Government star ship was like. I found I rather liked the clean simplicity of living onboard a moving machine hurtling through empty space.
"...Do you know who I am, son?" He asks, looking into my eyes. I almost shake my head again but stop. He does look frighteningly familiar...
"You're Captain Merlin," I whisper, gazing up at the man in front of me in awe. How could I have not recognized this man? The man who singlehandedly held off wave after wave of Gallia forces from the last interplanetary war. The man who destroyed them all with a single grenade and chain reactions that left their ships in tiny pieces. The man who was awarded almost all of Britain's most valuable medals for chivalry in the face of danger.
For though Merlin was an incredibly strong and brave man who could singlehandedly take down any opposition, he also always fought fair.
"So you've heard of me," He grins, showing off rows of straight white teeth. His blue eyes shine with mirth as he shakes his head, dislodging hairs from their carefully arranged places around his face.
"Yes," I squeak.
"Well, what's your name, son?"
"Arthur, sir."
"I see," He says. "Arthur, you are not truly ... yourself. Well, you are, but you aren't."
I stare blankly up at him. What?
He runs a hand through his hair and makes a frustrated noise. "You may bear your own DNA, but not your soul, your essence... Your essence is that of another."
I'm shocked into silence, and my thoughts are moving a kilometre a minute. What on earth is going on? I think. What is Captain Merlin saying? Has he gone insane?
"This gun you found proves it. Arthur... Have you ever heard the legends of old Britain?"
"Yes..." Where is this going?
"You have heard, then, the prophecy of the rebirth of King Arthur, correct?"
"Not all of it, sir."
"It has been foretold that the once-great champion of Britain shall come to its people the same way he did before during a time of war and destruction. The spirit of King Arthur shall find itself a new host, so that modern Britain can have a saviour. The Government has been searching for the man who could save us from total destruction. The Saxon forces are growing by the day, and Earth may not survive another brutal attack from Otherworlders."
He goes quiet, and I'm sure he's thinking of the enormous crater currently being filled in Africa. That blast from the Gallias had nearly shaken the earth off of its axis.
Captain Merlin clears his throat.
"You have found a weapon of great importance embedded in a stone, as did King Arthur of Old. You are destined to be our King, and to lead us victorious from battle."
"But... but that can't be me... I'm not brave, or strong, or-"
"Yes, you are. You have the spirit of a king within you. And you shall be the one to destroy these Saxon Otherworlders. You shall restore peace across the Galaxy, and keep Earth safe."
"Shouldn't the World Organisers do that? I mean, we appointed them, so they should be the ones-"
"No." the Captain's expression darkened. "The Organisers are drunk on power. You may need to defend your title against them someday. But for now, we must destroy the creatures bent on annihilating our world."
"What if I refuse?" I ask, finally able to get the words past my lips.
"Then we all may perish."
I'm silent, weighing options. I've just found out that I'm not really me. I'm actually just a vessel for another man's soul, and I'm repulsed. Were my actions ever really my own? Were my thoughts ever really my own? I'm so confused. I can't rule. I just can't. Not while I'm struggling to figure this out. But Captain Merlin is gazing at me, worried for his planet, our planet, and I feel like this is somehow right, that I should be the person to fight off the disgusting, unnatural Saxons.
"O-okay." I murmur.
"What? You'll do this?"
"It's... It's my destiny."
"I'm glad you feel that way," He smiled and leaned over to press a discrete button on his desk. "Please prepare for liftoff."
Adjacent to Neptune
14:03 May 18th, 4077
Captain Merlin has been training me.
I was given a room down the hall from the Captain's quarters, and a training schedule that involves mostly private lessons and assessments with the Captain. I also received a uniform like Kay's, except with a gold star on the right cuff. I haven't seen him at all these past few days. Instead I've been exploring the ship and learning how to hold a gun. And talking to my father, of course. He's been so worried about me leaving him so early. I'm sad that I didn't get a chance to hug him and tell him goodbye. But he's as excited for me as I was for Kay.
The Gallant truly is a magnificent place. The entire ship is decorated like the Captain's Quarters, only without the priceless artefacts from centuries ago. It's enormous. Seven floors, ten elevators, and nearly three hundred rooms, each fitted for two soldiers to sleep in. There's a mess hall that serves everything from freshly cooked meals to tablet food, which I have recently discovered that I hate. The horrible red and blue coloured pills clog my throat and I have to choke a little to force it down. Plus, it doesn't taste at all like the food it's supposed to. I swear the chicken tastes more like cat or something.
And I'm definitely getting better at shooting. Ectorius never had enough time to teach me properly; Kay monopolized what few seconds our father had to teach us how to properly hold a blaster.
My first shot was shaky and difficult. I couldn't hold the bulky Government issue gun in my hands well enough. The next few were worse, and Captain Merlin seemed discouraged.
Try Excalibur... It will work better. A voice resounded through my head, and I gasped aloud. I hadn't heard that voice since I was about eight years old. It was comforting somehow. This voice had saved my life before, telling me not to step on a certain portion of cliff that gave away shortly after I had avoided it. I trusted this voice.
I brushed off Captain Merlin's concerned queries about my gasp and left to fish Excalibur out of my things.
With the gun in my hands, I felt I could do no wrong. I sailed back into the practice room and with a confidence I didn't know I could ever posses, took a quick shot at the next moving target I saw. The blast sailed straight through the bulls-eye.
"Wow, Arthur," Captain Merlin said, grinning. "Try the other gun again."
I complied and missed five shots in a row.
"I think I can only shoot accurately with Excalibur..." I said, gesturing to the gun.
Captain Merlin seemed fascinated by that fact.
"Most men can use any weapon they need."
I had shrugged. "I'm not sure. It just works better for me."
"Hmm." He hadn't asked about it again, but I caught him staring at Excalibur after I had taken particularly difficult shot with an odd look in his eye.
I feel extremely lucky, though. Not only am I learning from the man who is known throughout the Galaxies as being incredibly powerful and intelligent, but I'm also given the chance to better understand the universally famous enigma that is Captain Merlin.
He is kind, and cares about each and every person on the ship. He keeps track of everything about everyone, it seems. As we walk through the halls of the ship, he calls out to random soldiers, asking after a wound, or how their training is going, or if they've had news from a family member about anything. It's amazing to watch and I can see why so many people would follow him blindly into battle. I can see why so many people would be willing to lay their lives on the line to fight for a cause this man believes in.
He is also haunted by his past with the Otherworlders, I can see that. I can hear him wake up from nightmares sometimes. He has seen more in battle than any man should have to see. And so he takes it out on our enemies - the Saxons.
The Gallant found a smaller squadron of Saxon ships yesterday and attempted to attack them. Captain had been the one to order everyone to battle stations, manning guns and putting up shields.
I had protested. This is wrong, the voice in my head had whispered.
"You're abusing the name of your ship! What you are doing is neither gallant nor acceptable."
"This is a war, kid," He had growled. "If we didn't kill them, they'd kill us first!"
"If they fire, then feel free to retaliate. If they don't, then don't. I... I command you as your king."
My words had given him pause.
"...Very well, my liege."
At the time, I couldn't believe what I had done. Captain Merlin was and is the ultimate soldier, the man every little boy on Earth looks up to. Kay and I used to watch clips of his battles. He would slash through hordes of Otherworlders, from back in 4045 with the wars against the Gallias. He had bravely laid his own life on the line to protect our planet.
And I had told him he was wrong.
But he had backed down. I still wonder why.
The Andromeda Galaxy
12:14 May 25th, 4077
We're getting closer to the base. We've been making the jumps to light speed in little pieces - it's a quicker way of getting around but it makes everyone, including myself, nauseous.
It also wastes far too much fuel to do it so often. If we attempt to jump straight to the base, we'll run out of fuel and the engines might explode. Then we'd all be split into tiny pieces floating amongst the stars. Not exactly the way I'd like to die, honestly.
I'm in my bunk, resting up for another training session, this time with an expert in hand-to-hand combat. Kevin is Captain Merlin's first mate and apparent best friend though he's younger than our valiant leader.
Kevin calls down the hall for me, but before I can react, a huge blast shakes the Gallant, and I'm thrown against the wall. Captain Merlin's voice crackles through the speaker in the wall, angry and urgent.
"EVERYONE GET TO HIGH LEVELS, NOW. WE NEED TO SEAL OFF A PORTION OF THE SHIP. DAMN SAXONS BLEW A HOLE IN THE SIDE OF THE SHIP. DOTHING BIG WAS DAMAGED, BUT WE NEED TO GET EVERYONE TO BATTLE STATIONS. LET'S BLOW THESE MONSTEROUS CREATURES OUT OF THE SKY!"
I hear a round of cheering and shake my head to lose some of the dizziness. I run out of my room to find Kevin looking a little stricken. He throws an amazing punch, but isn't the best under pressure.
I pause, unsure what to do.
Tell him to get to his battle station, the voice whispers, and I obey without thinking.
"Get to the turrets," I say to him, and he nods, rather robotically I think. He runs off and I follow him, darting through twisting hallways to get to my position.
I get there to find my spot already filled.
"Kay?"
"Arthur?"
"This is my spot."
"No, it's mine. I was given it the moment I set foot on this ship, which was before you." He says accusingly.
"But he outranks you," says Kevin, poking his head around the partition separating us. The words echo between Kay and I, and I can see the pain in his eyes again.
But he outranks you.
"Fine," Kay's close to tears, and I can see them forming in the corners of his eyes.
"Kay..." I reach out but am shrugged away. He dashes off just as I hear another bone-rattling explosion.
"Arthur?" Kevin asks.
"Let's kill these buggers," I say, angry at Kay for once. Why can't he just accept that I'm a little more important than him? He's making this harder than it should be.
I strap myself into the turret and begin blasting everything in sight, not waiting for the orders to shoot. Round after round is fired, and I swear half of them zap through empty space, but a few find their marks.
An enormous Saxon ship floats lazily into my view, and I'm struck simply by how alien it looks. All angles and harsh surface, the thing looks vaguely like a bloated black and red toaster with guns and rockets attached eclectically to the sides.
I begin to shoot again, looking for the weak spot I know is there.
Lower, a voice says in my head quietly.
I comply, leaving a trail of scorch marks are scrawled into the side of the ship's hull from where my shots have dug into the metal. I finally catch sight of a partially hidden engine and begin to shoot in that direction in earnest.
A few curse words and one lucky shot later, I've repaid the Saxons in kind. A huge hole in the ship gapes open grotesquely, like an open maw threatening to eat everything in sight. The analogy is a little ruined by the fact that the contents of the rooms blasted are being sucked into space. It looks more like the ship is expelling the inside of its stomach.
I fire a few more shots towards the underbelly of the ship, and the thing is nearly in pieces. Smaller Saxon crafts buzz towards the Gallant, looking like flies compared to our sheer size. They're blasted out of the sky easier than before; it seems our victory over the largest ship has caused them to become rather sloppy.
A great round of cheering echoes through the ship as the man to my right destroys the last ship with apparent ease.
I'm grinning ecstatically and hugging Kevin in light of the fact that this was my first battle when Captain Merlin finds me.
"I've heard what you did, Arthur. And I'm terribly impressed. How did you know where the main engines were?"
Lie... the voice whispers. It's against my morals to do so, but I trust the voice in head.
"I-I'm not sure," I mumble, looking down.
"Well, I just got a message from our base. The ship you shot down contained the largest concentration of Saxon weapons in their entire fleet, and we destroyed it. The war is half won now. None of the other Saxon ships are as large or dangerous as that ship we blew up. Perhaps we can arrange a peace treaty now."
I nod, happy at the prospect of such a taxing war ending. Nearly four million earth soldiers have been reported dead, and those are just the bodies they've managed to find. Thousands more have probably been lost to the deep recesses of airless space.
"Once we get to the base, we'll get an update as to what's going on. Maybe by the time we get there, this whole thing will be over. Let's make the jump to light speed, everyone!"
I grimace. Light speed is my least favourite way of travel, but the engines have already begun to hum under my feet. A metallic voice comes through the speakers calmly.
"THREE... TWO... ONE..."
I suddenly feel as though I've been turned inside out and that my guts are splattered across the floor. Only the floor isn't under me, it's to my right, and then my left, and then behind me, and I feel sick. I close my eyes, looking for darkness and uniformity, but I have no such luck. Lights explode behind my eyes and fizzle into dizzying patterns of colours, like a kaleidoscope. Then everything goes black, then white, then black again, and I open my eyes.
We're here.
Omega Centauri Galaxy
08:42 June 3rd, 4077
I've recovered a little, and am gazing in wonder out one of the ship's portholes. The base is enormous. About a third of the size of Earth, this amazing piece of machinery was built in space with dozens of ships visiting to drop off tiny sections of it. Almost three hundred lives were lost building it, including that of our neighbour back in Britain. It took thirty thousand workers and almost four years to finish, but it has proved its worth by defending Earth from these Saxons.
The base has accommodations for twenty million people, fifty thousand attack ships, and ten acres of dirt for farming, amongst other things.
Including the World Organisers' rooms. Yes, that's right, the five 'all-powerful' men who take it upon themselves to direct all of Earth live on the base to show that they are as involved in the war as every other soldier in the place. It's just a publicity stunt and I kind of hate them all for it.
The five of them take up more room onboard than five thousand soldiers, but when you rule the world, I guess you can do that. Captain Merlin doesn't even take that much room up with his rooms. His quarters are larger than that of a normal soldier, but no-one hates him for it because of the fact that he doesn't make it well known.
The World Organisers' rooms onboard Station Alpha are galactically famous. And they like it that way.
I know for a fact Captain Merlin hates these 'idiotic puppets', his words not mine, from the multiple discussions we've had about how to regain my throne.
And we're here finally, so I suppose I'm to do that soon.
Captain Merlin told me that he had an idea about that, however. But we've still got to destroy the last of the Saxons, I suppose. Unless they're willing to compromise.
"WE HAVE REACHED STATION ALPHA," Captain Merlin says through the intercom system on the ship. "PLEASE PREPARE FOR LANDING."
I sit in Captain Merlin's quarters, stunned as the enormous base outside of the window opens up a compartment on its side, just big enough to fit the Gallant. As we pass through, I see letters on the side that spell out "GALLANT J479" in navy blue.
We enter a huge chamber where there are plenty of crews in space suits who work on settling the Gallant into its place amongst the other ships. Outside the window I see rows and rows and rows of other ships. Shuttles, cargo ships, attack ships, any type of space craft you can think of, all in the typical white, grey, and navy blue colours the World Organisers seem so fond of.
Everyone exits the Gallant in a hallway that's filled with the first oxygen I've breathed in while that doesn't taste vaguely stale. We're all following a Captain Merlin who is quite obviously feigning cheerfulness.
Captain is given a discrete note, which he shows to me to the consternation of the messenger. It's scrawled in a spiky handwriting that belongs to the European World Organiser.
Captain Merlin,
I would be delighted to enjoy your company this evening in our quarters unless you are far too busy settling your crew. The other world Organizers and I would like to properly welcome you to Station Alpha and would enjoy congratulating you for your fantastic victory over the Saxons.
Europe's World Organizer
Captain Merlin grins.
"This was meant to be refused," He tells me. "The wording gives me an escape, which indicates I should send back a message saying that I am in fact too busy. But I don't think I will."
"How do you know that?"
"It's all politics. I learned far too much of that after the wars in 4045. Come on, let's go mess with the World Organiser's heads."
Captain Merlin seemed to know his way through this immeasurable maze of a ship. It's even more confusing than the Gallant.
We finally find ourselves in front of huge, gilded double doors. The World Organisers are huge fans of gold, apparently. We knock, and wait patiently.
The African World Organiser answers the door, and his eyes widen in surprise. Captain Merlin was right.
Of course he was, the voice in my head pipes up.
The two of us are let in, and I sit quietly while Captain speaks with the Organisers. I can see now how thoroughly he was trained in the art of politics. Each time one of the Organisers say something incredibly tactless and stupid, Captain Merlin's jaw tightens a little, and I can tell he's angry. But he doesn't say anything.
As the adults talk, I look around the room. Against one wall, nine screens hang off of the wall, showing different views of all over the ship. There are a few complicated instruments on the table nestled beneath the screens, and as I sit, they bleep and buzz every so often. This is the only efficient part of the room, the only part that is actually useful.
The rest of the room is decorated with expensive looking couches and throw pillows. The walls are covered in priceless pieces of artwork, and the floors are carpeted with the softest carpet I've ever felt. There are little gold statuettes and vases settled on every available surface, and the entire place feel cluttered and stuffy, like the home of an old woman who's spent her entire life simply collecting trinkets and things. It feels nothing like the interior of a battle station. More like the interior of a diminutive antique store. Used to using every inch of space for something practical, I don't like it.
As our audience with the Organisers appears to be drawing to a close, I hear sirens echoing through the base. Alarmed, I look at the group of men in front of me. The Organisers are frightened, but Captain Merlin seems excited.
"Saxons," he breathes.
The Asian Organiser reaches behind himself and hastily taps a button. Massively thick sheets of steel snap into place out of the walls, effectively trapping us all here.
They don't, however, block out the sound of ships being blasted into pieces and the screams of aliens and humans alike as the Saxons make a last-ditch attempt to destroy us.
"W-we'll be safer behind here..." The Asian Organiser says, shaking a little. I'm personally appalled that such cowards could ever become the rulers of Earth, but I'm a little more preoccupied with the fact that Captain and I are stuck behind steel when we could be killing Saxons. Captain seems as angry as I am that we're prisoners of the Organisers' stupidity and cowardice.
"Let us out, you hor-"
He's interrupted by a screen on the wall of monitory equipment to our right. It flickers into life, and a mechanical voice speaks.
"MESSAGE FROM SAXONS. ACCEPT?"
"Accept," the American Organiser agrees, and the screen shows a picture of what is obviously a Saxon general.
His skin is tinged unnaturally grey, and his eyes are an ugly red colour that seems to cut right through the screen and into me. He looks vaguely desperate, and I can hear explosions coming through the room's speakers.
He speaks, but I can't understand him. Neither can the Organisers, from the look of it. Captain Merlin offers to translate.
"He said his forces can't take any more hits and is begging for us to stop firing."
"Tell him we won't," says the American Organiser petulantly.
Captain makes an impatient noise and strides over to the equipment. He fiddles with knobs until the screens are showing us different views of the massive ship. From the looks of the soldier's reactions, they can see both us and the Saxon.
"Stop firing," Captain Merlin orders, and the soldiers do.
The Saxon relaxes a little, but winces when something else explodes in his ship. He speaks again.
"He says he wants to make a peace treaty with the ruler of our planet, and that we would like safe passage for his soldiers."
"No!" protests the Asian Organiser. "These disgusting creatures have nearly destroyed us! Kill them all!"
The soldiers on Station Alpha seem pleased with his words, and Captain Merlin appears ready to pull the trigger and to let everyone kill the remaining Saxons, but I'm not.
"Stop, everyone. Don't shoot. Not yet." I say.
I turn to the Saxon's screen. "Do you yield?"
He looks confused but Captain Merlin translates.
"He says yes."
I smile. "Then we have no reason to kill them. No-one should ever kill anyone weaker than them. Not without offering them the chance to live in exchange for being beholden to them."
Not without showing them mercy, my voice says, and I repeat the words.
I keep talking, defending the lives of our enemies. Everyone's listening to me, slightly in awe of the words tumbling out of my mouth. But the words aren't mine anymore. They belong to the voice in my head. They belong to the ancient King Arthur who has been guiding me, helping me get to this moment. The moment when I regain my throne.
"As Arthur Pendragon, High King of Earth, I command that we make amends with the Saxons and maintain peace across the Galaxy."
The Organisers are shocked into silence but I can see that they are upset. They don't want me to become the leader of the world. They don't want to lose their power. I'll have to deal with their rebelling soon, but for now they don't dare protest, not while the entire crew of the ship is cheering incredulously at my words.
Thanks to Captain Merlin, most of the crew knows of my triumph with the Saxon weapons ship, and word has spread. Earth's entire army wants a leader who will be willing to fight for the safety of the world rather than one who hides behind steel walls.
I just hope I can live up to their standards.
Yay, another School Project turned into a fic! Review, please!