I need to buy some shoes.

Dat's roight. Ya hoid me.

Untitled: Episode 3 Part 1

Welcome to Episode 3 part 1.

EPISODE 3: THE FIRST GATHERING

A chorus sung technocratic hymns somewhere in the distance as Admiral Landover knelt. He had been kneeling on the stone floor for the past half hour, with nothing but the indistinct chants to accompany him. He was wearing his Admiral’s uniform, but stripped of his stripes and medals. Fires burned around the circular chamber. A giant Wheel, carved out of stone, hung in front of a table, on a raised plateau some fifty meters up. His breathing was deep. He had had time to reflect.

Fifteen minutes passed and he heard footsteps on the raised plateau. Chairs scraped on stone. Five seats, five men. Their faces obscured, surrounded by fire. The order of the Glowing Wheel, the highest level of government. Landover knelt and was silent.

“Landover.” The Head Scribe spoke. “You have been brought in front of the Glowing Wheel to receive judgement on your failure at Carnegia.”

 Landover knelt and was silent.

“You failed to recover the DELIVERANCE, and your actions cost you your own battleship. The EXPULSION was lost to the void.”

Landover knelt and was silent.

“Only twenty-seven members of your crew survived.”

Landover knelt and was silent.

“You may stand, and speak for your actions.”

Landover stood and spoke.

“I have nothing to say in my defense.” He said. “My incompetence as a commander cost the lives of hundreds of our own and the loss of two ships. My actions are unforgivable. Act as you see fit.” He stayed standing.

“Landover, you are hereby stripped of your rank of admiral. You must now choose one of two fates. The Grandmaster will speak.”

Landover was intrigued, an infinitesimal hint of a raised eyebrow showed itself on his aging face. The Grandmaster of the order of the Glowing Wheel wished to address him, and give him a choice? He knew what happened to those who failed the Wheel.

“Landover.” The Grandmaster spoke, a depth of his voice masking his age. “Your losses at Carnegia are unforgivable. You have received your judgement on this matter – your rank and privileges have been taken from you.”

Landover nodded.

“However, your forty-five years of service to the Wheel are recognized by this order. Your successes as an Acolyte, Hierophant, and Admiral of the Wheel are commendable, and so this council has decided to allow you a chance at redemption.”

Landover nodded. A chance at redemption was a rare occurrence.

“Your honour as an Admiral of the Wheel can only and shall only be restored with the capture and retrieval of the one who caused you to disgrace yourself. Find this one and return them to us. Then, will you be welcome once more in the halls of the Wheel. Do you have any words for this council?”

The once-Admiral understood his task. The few times a chance at redemption had been granted to officers of the Wheel, their task was always one of capture and retrieval. He knew ritual execution awaited the captives once they were brought in front of the order of the Glowing Wheel. He did, however, have one question.

“How am I to find this man if I have no ship, no men at my command, Grandmaster?”

The fires surrounding the order betrayed no emotion on the Grandmaster’s face.

“For that, you have your own task. The order has convened as has decided it will return you to your rank of Admiral if you meet a list of demands.”

Landover listened intently. Truly, he had been given a second chance, a possibility of starting anew.

“First, you must undergo, once more, the rituals of Water, Earth, and Fire.”

Landover was somewhat confused. As they rose through the ranks of the Wheel army, soldiers underwent these three rituals at three points. From the first rank of Neophyte to the second rank of Proselyte, the ritual of water was undertaken. From the rank of Crusader of the Wheel to the officer’s rank of Yeoman, the ritual of earth was undertaken. Finally, from the position of Hierophant of the Wheel to the general’s rank of Avatar of the Wheel, the ritual of fire. Landover had taken them all through his career in the army before he transferred to the Wheel navy. But what troubled him was that these rituals were not done in the Wheel navy. He held his tongue in light of the circumstances.

“Next, you must recruit, on your own, a Hierophant to serve as your sword.”

This was understandable. A Hierophant was a special rank in the army. It was an officer’s rank, and a Hierophant could choose to lead forces as part of the regular army. But If they so chose, they could also become a bodyguard of sorts, a right hand man for a higher ranking officer.

“…And finally, you will recruit the order of the Burning Eagle to fight by your side.”

The order of the Burning Eagle. The most reclusive and most feared military order in the Wheel. Getting them to follow him would be no easy task.

“Landover of the Wheel, your other option is death." Said the Grandmaster. "Do you accept the trials laid out before you?”

--

“I do.”

The water dripped off his body and splashed onto the stone floor of the grotto. He stepped out of the pool, thereby completing the ritual of water. His exposed skin glistened in the torchlight. He was thin, but by no means weak. He was quick, powerful. Twenty years in the Wheel army made a man strong, and his time as a Hierophant added to that.

He was clean. The new proselytes would, after this step, be free to return to their quarters, but he was not. The guards watched him closely. He eyed them back. He exited the grotto through a pair of stone doors opposite the ones he entered through.

He had served the Wheel for 45 years. Twenty in the army, the rest in the navy. He had lost comrades before. He had lost many, many comrades before. In both arms. But he’d never lost a ship. The loss of an entire battleship – unforgiveable. He hated the DSC Captain. The DSC Captain Stefan Sonnett. These thoughts and others repeated themselves as he moved down the stone hallway, down to the trial of Earth. He’d done it before, when he was young, a Crusader of the Wheel, fresh from a victory on some planet or other. He did not remember the planet, but he remembered the fighting. It was a savage world, untouched by civilization for what must have been at least a thousand years. The people there were primitive. They fell easily to fire or sword. There were many other worlds like it. Back then, the trial of earth was 122 lashes to the back. But they were always finding new things in the earth or in the laboratories. Last he knew, it was 140 lashes.

He entered the ceremonial chamber. Two guards and two priests stood inside. There was no grotto here, no pool of refreshingly cool water. Two cuffs attached to chains that hung from the ceiling. The guards shackled him in. The priests muttered some ceremonial oaths, but he didn’t pay attention. He never liked the priests. The radicalization of the navy worried him.

                They told him, one hundred and fifty lashes.

                The first sixty-one were weak. They did not come from the earth, but only existed for mere seconds in the heart of a laboratory. The rest were real, from the heart of the planet. More scars would criss-cross his back.

                After the one hundred and fifty they released him. He was bleeding and walked onwards, to the ritual of fire. When he tired of his life as the Hierophant of a dead general, he underwent the ritual and became an Avatar of the Wheel. He did not enjoy the ritual of fire. In front of him were the doors.

                Landover of the Wheel sighed a deep sigh. Sweat coated his body. It was hot. He opened the doors, and entered. They closed behind him.

New Years Resolutions 2011 round-up.

Let's check out how I did on last year's New Year's Resolutions


1) Be excellent in everything I do.
Yep.

100% success rate, not bad I'd say. Job well done, chaps, on to next year!