Pan Post 70 continues Space Camelot with Merlin the Younger showing Admiral Ltexi of Jupiter around Camelot's Engine Room. Meanwhile, on Saturn, Prince Mordred and several others are introduced to the Custodians of the X-Kryptons. Gamma Pans, having learnt English from the Jupiterians, engages in cultural exchange with Sir Bedivere until a surprise attack on the town is made by the G-Kryptons. The Knights of the Round Table aid their hosts in the battle, discovering advanced technology that can slice through with own iron blades. Only their magical weapons show force against the enemy laser swords. The battle won, Gamma Pans declares war against the G-Kryptons and their betrayal of their alliance.
Post[]
Space Camelot: For Great Justice[]
Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Sir Lancelot | Sir Kay | Sir Galahad | Sir Bedivere | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Prince Mordred | Tom a'Lincoln | The Black Knight | The Faerie Knight | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Phoenix Tram | Omega Wier
Admiral Ltexi brushes her hand across the smooth outer casing for the energy core of Camelot. Merlin looks at her own hands which are small, soft and delicate - quite unlike the rough-worn palms of her companion. Ltexi might have the supernatural beauty of the Roman gods but its marred by a life lived practically. The only physical objects Merlin was inclined to stroke are the pages of books.
Merlin: "We call it the perpetual engine. It generates power all by itself."
Ltexi: "Amazing. The core of my ship was severely damaged so we had to replace it with one of our own. It doesn't need a lot of fuel but it does need it. And you have no idea where these ships originate?"
Merlin: "Um... we found it on Earth."
Ltexi gives Merlin a wry smirk before she disappears around the core.
Ltexi: "You found it there but it can't come from there. Your planet is too stupid."
Merlin: "Did you just say the planet is stupid?"
Ltexi reappears on the other side of the core with a patronising glower.
Ltexi: "Obviously I meant your people. It's common for us to just refer to planet meaning the people as a whole. It's just slang, I suppose. It's just easier when talking about planets connected to our queendom."
Merlin feels quite guilty when her next question emerges from her mind, knowing its tantamount to espionage, but genuine curiosity couldn't stifle it;
Merlin: "Your... queendom... expands beyond your homeplanet?"
Ltexi just nods absently as she opens a hatch on the core and peers inside, inspecting some elements to the engine that Merlin hadn't yet grasped. Ltexi's lack of concern on the topic encourages Merlin's curiosity further.
Merlin: "So, have you been to any of them?"
Ltexi: "Sure. Of course. I didn't become admiral by sitting on my backside all day."
She slaps the hatch shut.
Ltexi: "Alright. Can you show me to the Command Centre?"
Merlin: "Not sure which room that is..."
Ltexi rolls her eyes and her fingers start to work on a nearby monitor, moving with such practised dexterity that Merlin is reminded of her old mentor's hands' swift work on his spells. Especially the nuanced rhythm of each finger that operates by muscle memory with each flick of the pinky.
Ltexi: "This room."
She points to a map and Merlin marvels. She hadn't seen this map before now.
Ltexi: "Looks like yours isn't in the same place as it is on The Hopeful. Still, I think I can remember the way. Are you going to escort me?"
Merlin nods sheepishly. By 'escort' she means keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't sabotage the ship or something else clandestine that Arthur is worried the Jupiterian might try. Ltexi is, however, fairly trusted in that only little Merlin has been left in charge of watching the foreigner rather than a detachment of overbearing knights.
The two women glance around the engine room for a last time, leaving two former builders in there who were finding their new professions as engineering crew to be quite mystifying.
---
Prince Mordred looks sidelong at Sir Lancelot du Lac, wondering what he's thinking but sees nothing to report in the knight's demeanour. Mordred gives a deep sigh and looks up at the yellow sky above them. Methane crystals rest upon the upper atmosphere to create the lurid view. Some of the others thought it to be beautiful but Mordred sees nothing but the colour of puke swimming overhead. It certainly has a mesmerising quality to it as the thick clouds move rapidly, rolling like waves of a yellow ocean, but the colour is offensively garish and the constant cloud cover is oppressive. He would rather take a nice open sky any time.
He follows several natives through their stone streets. Admiral Ltexi of Jupiter had made preliminary introductions for the humans of Earth but she said the rest is up to them to proceed with diplomatic relations. The diplomacy of Saturn, she said, is very complicated. Mordred couldn't think of anything worse. He has always felt Great Britain ought to stick to its own affairs and tell the rest of Europe to bugger off. Now he finds himself thrown into a political cauldron on an alien planet. The Fates must be laughing at him.
Jupiter may have interacted with the people of Saturn before yet they are not yet capable of spaceflight. Mordred decided that his group ought to maintain the pretence that his people had achieved spaceflight - even if they'd just stolen it.
The humans, however, must wear breathers to survive in the Saturnian air and Mordred considers them fortunate for this as Merlin assured everyone that the air probably smells really, really bad with all that methane up there. The small group leading Mordred and his friends are the Kryptons. They appear to be humanoid but much, much taller. Despite their height their thick torsos are supported by spindly legs and on the ends of their arms are hands that remind Mordred of a child's. They have skin colours that vary from jet black to light grey. Their eyes are also varied in colour but the colour is always striking against their dark skin tones - orange and red seem to be the most common colours.
Usually the people are wearing what appears to be carved crystal but when one of them allowed Mordred to touch it it felt wet and pliable. When he'd gotten a little too friendly with the crystal outfit he had to be condescended to by the gentleman he was practically fondling. At least the guy had been amused instead of insulted, while Mordred was simply embarrassed by his fascination with the clothing.
However he did notice that their escorts aren't wearing the crystalline material but, instead, a strange metal substance that is liquid - yet formed to the body like a solid. He hasn't been allowed to grope one of these gentlemen yet and Mordred suspects that it's some kind of armour - though what kind of armour would be as soft as a liquid is beyond Mordred's ken.
Arches line the pathways of the city, which Mordred guesses are decorative rather than serving some useful purpose. Yet, intermittently, he notices boxes hanging and gets the impression that they're lights for when darkness hits the world. He is actually surprised that there's any light on this world, with it being so far from the sun, but Merlin had explained that the clouds in the atmosphere were amplifying the sunlight to illuminate the planet. She said that the planet is spinning much faster than Earth, so the day would pass quickly. On the other hand the planet takes many Earth years to pass around the sun as a kind of compensation for shorter days. In Mordred's mind that means lots of opportunities for sleep but a long-ass winter in which to freeze his bollocks off.
The escorts lead them up a short stone staircase, which foregoes arches, to a building. Mordred is surprised to find that Saturnian buildings have no walls, just lots of pillars to hold up the roof. They'd be very cold winters. His bollocks wouldn't last long at all.
When they reach the top of the stairs the escorts invite them to enter the building. Mordred finds it unusual to enter a building without the ceremony of crossing a threshold. In fact it seems rude to him when he's expected to just cross inside anywhere along the open perimeter.
Sir Bedivere: "Sir Black Knight. I wonder if you'd consider staying outside?"
The Black Knight doesn't bother to reply, she just nods and turns her back on the building. From their small hillock, she can see over the pathways below. Sir Lancelot nods at Bedivere's wisdom and Mordred is reminded how smarts can often be more useful than brute strength, even when in dangerous lands.
The rest of them enter and behind a long crystalline screen, which is blue and semi-transparent, they are introduced to three Kryptons. One of them speaks English.
Mordred: "Thank Christ for that."
He makes a short bow towards the three Kryptons. The obsidian-skinned people glance at each other than attempt clumsy bows in return, mimicking his action. Mordred decides not to ask them to bow more deeply, fearing explanation of such a custom in reference to their betters would likely take one of these Saturnian years and probably spark a political riot. The female Krypton points towards benches that have been aligned for their use around a squat table. Hot drinks are poured by the non-English speaking male and Mordred is overjoyed to find it's tea.
Mordred: "How did you learn our language?"
English Speaker: "I learnt from the Jupiterians when they first landed here. They aren't very forthcoming with much but they did want to be able to communicate easily and so there exists me. I think they want to ease us into this... galactic community."
Not wanting them to discover that Earth was far from part of that galactic community too, he changes the topic;
Mordred: "I'm Prince Mordred, son of King Arthur. These are Knights of the Round Table."
The English speaker looks at Mordred and slowly over the knights. He then looks down at his own coffee table.
English Speaker: "You have special... tables?"
Only when introducing such as concept to a being with zero understanding of the idea does it all sound incredibly dumb. Mordred nods slowly.
Mordred: "Yes... it's a round table to demonstrate the knight's equality."
He feels this one is going to take more than several Saturnian years to explain and so he swiftly asks;
Mordred: "And the walking pile of rocks is Andy. Andy is from the planet Venus."
Andy raises a clubbed rock-fist and wiggles it in the best 'wave of hero' the rough-cut mini-mountain can muster. His bright eyes glow, seemingly cheerful. Andy seemed capable of understanding English perfectly well, even if he's too stupid to speak it. Or speak anything for that matter. The English Speaker, who is wearing the silver-liquid armour, strokes his smooth, black chin.
English Speaker: "Venus... is that far away?"
Mordred: "Nope. It's right here in our solar system. Closer to the sun than our own planet, Earth, in fact."
English Speaker: "Ah!? Then, already, there are many neighbouring worlds inhabited by sentient beings? Our scientists have long suspected that we were alone here, so imagine our surprise when not only the Jupiterians showed up but then you. And now there's yet another species? That's all pretty extraordinary!"
Mordred shrugs. He had never even considered the possibility of life on other planets, whether they were local or otherwise. To him the idea isn't so strange - there are people in France, so why not on Mars or Venus? These Kryptons seemed to lack common sense.
Morgan: "You didn't introduce yourselves."
Mordred glances down the bench, past Bedivere and Kay, to his mother. She's staring away from everyone and out of the no-wall towards the rolling clouds. Mordred always considered himself to be poor at diplomacy, but compared to both of his parents he was practically ambassador of the century.
The Krypton bows his head, mimicking the earlier action he'd copied from Mordred;
English Speaker: "I'm sorry about that. We're unaccustomed to strangers in these lands. I'm Gamma Pans. I'm one of the custodians of the land. My companions are Phoenix Tram and Omega Wier."
Morgan: "Weird names."
Gamma Pans: "I expect so to you."
Sir Bedivere: "I don't suppose you could elucidate on the term 'custodian'. Do you rule this kingdom?"
Gamma Pans: "Rule... no. That concept had to be explained to me by the Jupiterians. We have no rulers here."
Mordred: "Don't let father hear that, he'll be down here with his flag in a jiffy."
Sir Bedivere: "If you have no ruler, then who governs?"
Gamma Pans: "Well, I think everyone governs together. But specifically the custodians are delegated to resolve a crisis, to allocate resources where they're needed... and things that support the community. That's us."
Gamma Pans translates the conversation to his friends, who seem more at odds with the strangeness of their guests than Pans himself. Mordred guesses that they haven't spent as much time with the Jupiterians as Pans has. Both Phoenix Tram and Omega Wier are wearing the crystalline clothes he has seen most people wearing. Tram even has a decorative ruff of green crystal around his neck while Wier's crystal is mostly red and white. Wier, as the female of the species, has breasts. Breasts that seem impossibly large. Mordred would go so far as to describe them as 'sacks of flab' and her crystal shirt is made to accommodate. Mordred thinks it's probably unsurprising, given the other unusual proportions of this species. To Mordred, they look like a child's rendition of a human on paper.
Sir Bedivere looks over at Mordred and a knowing look of mutual appreciation passes between them, both glad that the other is present. Amongst the group, they're probably the only two with brains. Sir Galahad comes close, but not close enough for Mordred's preference. Bedivere's suit of armour is lighter in bulk than most knights as he prefers to command troops from a distance instead of getting fully embroiled in a battle. His tabard is sky blue with a sigil of a white, leafless tree upon the chest. The tree of wisdom, Bedivere would say. He adjusted the thick, jamjar spectacles on his face - one of his own inventions that he claims boosts his mental prowess, though Mordred suspects they just correct his vision and have no bearing on his intelligence levels at all.
After this initial conversation, a more in-depth sharing of information proceeded with Sir Bedivere explaining the concept of monarchy, land ownership and knighthood. Half-way through Morganna finally grew too bored to withstand it and got up. Gamma Pans ordered someone to escort her to a the domicile that the visitors would be allowed to stay in. Lancelot offered to accompany Morganna, for her safety, but she vowed she would be the one escorting him and left alone with the Krypton guards. Towards the end of the conversation, Mordred was growing equally bored. He enjoyed learning about the strange, alien technology but when it came to the explanations of Earthly politics Mordred couldn't help but wish he was anywhere but here. Unfortunately he was obliged to remain because he's the prince. Sir Bedivere, on the other hand, was well in his element as he would ramble on and on about trivial details - many of which Mordred found questionable. Mordred isn't convinced that witches float on water and fairies are birthed from flowers. Magic, as a whole, was an alien concept to the Kryptons and thus began another hour-long explanation of what magic is. In the end, Mordred is snapped away, having dozed off, when a loud blaring sound ruptures the air. The knights all jump to their feet with a mutual racket of clanging metal shoes.
Mordred: "What in Christ's name was that!?"
The knights all flinch at Mordred's blasphemy.
Pans: "I don't know who Christ is, but--"
The knights all look aghast.
Pans: "--but that sound means raiders."
Sir Bedivere: "Raiders!?"
Sir Lancelot: "Aha! Sounds like an opportunity for heroics!"
He leaps onto the table in a striking pose, causing surprise amongst the Kryptons and embarrassment in the humans. Except Sir Bedivere who had grown so used to Lancelot that nothing seemed to phase him anymore.
The Faerie Knight: "Are you sure we should be getting involved in this? We don't really understand the situation here..."
Sir Galahad: "He has a point, father."
Mordred: "Unsurprisingly I agree not to do whatever stupid thing Lancelot wants to do."
Sir Bedivere clears his throat, the warning sign that he's going to convince everyone that they're wrong;
Sir Bedivere: "Actually, this could be a great way to garner favour with our hosts. They'd be indebted to us."
Mordred groans with frustration, knowing he's quite right. Annoyingly right.
Pans: "You don't have to trouble yourselves on our behalf. I understand your position. I would think twice about getting involved in local troubles if I were on your planet."
Mordred: "See? He wouldn't help us so... why... where is she going?"
He points outside and everyone turns just in time to see The Black Knight run by.
Sir Lancelot: "Good ol' Black Knight. She truly has the heart of an adventurer!"
Mordred: "Heart of rashness, you mean. Looks like she's made our choice for us."
Sir Lancelot: "TO ARMS, O' KNIGHTS!!"
He unsheathes his sword, Arondight. The blade has a deep, navy blue sheen that makes it look like the deep ocean when it shimmers in the light. Once it was a demonic sword, forged in the depths of Mount Athirat by Baal himself. But The Lady of the Lake cast a magical ward upon the hilt, meaning one that is pure of heart can not only wield the sword in the name of justice but amplifies its powers for good.
He runs out of the building with his sword pointed forward like a crazed loon.
Mordred: "Guess we'd better get after him in case he falls and hurts himself."
Sir Bedivere: "I usually just stand and watch. He might look odd but he has an uncanny knack of slaying every foul beast that crosses his path."
The knights jog out of the building in the wake of Lancelot and The Black Knight. Gamma Pans goes with him and leads the way until they find Lancelot. Lost. Despite looking the fool he doesn't show any sign of embarrassment as he files in behind Gamma Pans.
Kryptons are rushing away from the action but they take a moment to glance at the strangers headed towards danger.
Pans: "They've managed to get quite far into the city. That's not good. How'd they go unseen for so long?"
Sir Lancelot: "Perhaps they're foul ninjas!"
Sir Kay: "I hate ninjas..."
The Faerie Knight: "There's not much you do like, Sir Kay."
Sir Kay: "I like KFC!"
The Faerie Knight: "I list of one?"
The Faerie Knight smiles at Sir Kay. It's both pleasant and patronising at the same time. Kay puts his gloved hands on his hips.
Sir Kay: "Nice try, Pinky, but I'm the master of trolling people. You've a long way to go!"
Sir Lancelot: "I don't think there's trolls. We'd smell them by now."
Sir Kay: "You're not a troll are you, Lancelot?"
Sir Lancelot: "What? Me? No!"
Sir Kay: "Oh. Just I can smell you pretty bad so..."
Pans: "There!"
In a large stone plaza is The Black Knight. Her scimitars are positioned at the neck of a kneeling enemy. He's a Krypton with obsidian skin and long, grey hair. He looks up at The Black Knight, his orange eyes filled with despair and confusion. She shows no mercy.
Pans: "She-- she executed him!"
Mordred: "Yeah. She does that."
Sir Lancelot: "She has yet to find God in her heart, Custodian. When she does, she shall repent for this act, I assure you."
Gamma Pans looks from Lancelot to Mordred with confusion.
Pans: "Who's God and why does she need to find him?"
Lancelot reels.
Sir Lancelot: "Heathen!"
Gamma Pans looks pleadingly at Mordred, who seems to have become a voice of rationale.
Mordred: "I'll explain later, Gamma. For now. It seems Sir Black Knight has taken care of your little invasion single-handedly!"
The Black Knight, who has approached the group, shakes her head;
The Black Knight: "Not true. They're still here. They move like-- I don't know. Ninjas?"
Sir Lancelot: "I knew it!"
Pans: "Indeed. I don't know what a ninja is but raiders are trained to move silently and swiftly. They're here somewhere. Best to assume defensive positions."
The knights do-so, moving back-to-back in threes. Mordred has Black Knight and Sir Galahad with him. He notices several liquid-metal Kryptons join the fray. Their expressions seem unable to take in the strange positions of the knights and they stand about, open-backed. Mordred shakes his head. These people have no clue about strategy. Perhaps it's only telling that his own homeland is embroiled in far too much war.
Sir Bedivere: "We don't have our helms, so be mindful of your heads. Try not to lose them, eh?"
Sir Kay: "I doubt Lancelot would notice the difference."
Sir Lancelot: "I might not - but the fair maidens certainly would!"
Sir Galahad: "There!"
Mordred turns to see two Krypton raiders leap from behind a wall, their spindly legs and pudgy bodies seem clumsy when they land. Yet they do so silently. They are wearing the same liquid-metal as the guards and, like them, they possess long, white sticks. Now Mordred learns what they're for.
A glob of energy blasts from their sticks and speeds its way towards the humans. Sir Galahad is first up and he lifts his shield in defence. The first green energy glob strikes the shield with immense force throwing it aside. The glob ricochets off of the divine shield and whirls off into the sky. The second glob, however, strikes Galahad in the chest and sends the young man flying back. Out of sight, out of mind, for Mordred as he points his own sword in the direction of the raiders.
Mordred: "They have instruments of magic! Faerie Knight!"
The Faerie Knight conjures up the magical energies within him, bestowed by his mother's genes. Half-human, half-Aes Sidhe. Bolts of lightning crackle and zap from his hands, straight at their enemies. The lightning strikes on target, whipping into the chests of the two Kryptons. Yet it is to no avail. Their liquid metal armour absorbs the incoming enemy much to the surprise of the humans and even, it seems, the Kryptons. They probably hadn't known whether or not their armour would work against the powers of Earth. Sir Lancelot, however, takes advantage of their distraction to close the distance. Arondight sweeps through the air with an audible sing but pauses at the long neck of the Krypton.
Sir Lancelot: "Surrender."
The Krypton hesitates but his friend has already turned his weapon on Lancelot. The knight moves almost as fast as any ninja. He leans backwards and shoves the white funnel with his free hand, so it ends up aimed at the second Krypton's head. In shock the Krypton gunner releases his hold on the weapon, so as not to blow the head off of his friend, and Lancelot leans forward again with his sword still centimetres from the neck of his enemy.
Sir Lancelot: "Surrender..."
The Black Knight: "Look out!"
The gunner has resorted to whipping out a second weapon, this time it's appears as a small shaft - much like the cylinder used to fire energy globs but much smaller - until he clicks a switch and a hot, blue beam of energy extends from the shaft. Lancelot barely has time to duck, singing off some of his dark curls. The Black Knight slashes down at the laser-sword wielder but finds that his swords slice through her own like butter.
The Black Knight: "Bollocks."
Lancelot releases his captive with a sharp shove and swings up his sword to compete with the mysterious energy weapon. He expects his faith will stand against this strange weapon. He isn't disappointed.
The blades clash with the sound of crackling like lightning. His demonic sword seems to grow angry that it's being contested by this technological monstrosity. Lancelot instinctively knows that this sword is not made of magic as Mordred suspects. Lancelot may not be the brightest tool but he does have intuition like no other.
As he competes in a duel with this laser wielder, the rest of the hiding Kryptons suddenly emerge.
Mordred is standing over Sir Galahad when green energy globs are suddenly blasting at him from several directions. He, like Galahad before him, instinctively tries to block the balls of death with his shield only to have it snapped from his hand. The shock and pressure applied to his hand is almost crippling and he yells with anguish. In desperation he slashes at a second incoming glob with his sword. He half expects it to be melted like the scimitars of The Black Knight but it holds true and the energy is instantly dissipated. The sword he holds, Clarent, is a sword he had pilfered from his father because it looks cool. Thin, burning white and a hilt of ornate silver. It is meant as a ceremonial sword for knighting but Mordred now feels that it has hidden power deep within. Perhaps knighting so many noble people in the name of God has given it divine properties?
He has no time to dwell on it though.
He glances back down and kicks Galahad in the ribs.
Sir Galahad: "Ouch!!"
Mordred: "Get the Hell up!"
Sir Galahad: "Don't blaspheme, my Prince. You'll bring the Lord's wrath down upon us..."
He groans and slowly gets to his feet.
Mordred: "I think it might already be here."
He must quickly bring up Clarent up to block a downward stroke of a laser sword. Like the glob, the energy blade is halted. The Krypton is much taller than any human and with his upper bulk he bears down upon Mordred. The laser sword comes closer and closer to the young prince and he feels its seething heat against his face. His forehead breaks out into a sweat.
Sir Galahad grabs Mordred's shield and swings it at the lanky being's legs. Spindly and frail, they buckle easily and the man topples over. Galahad leaps ontop of the Krypton and pounds his head with the shield until he's rendered unconscious. Panting they both turn to survey the battle.
Mordred sees Andy, who has finally reached the plaza having shuffled after them from Pan's building, suddenly confronted by two Kryptons. They glance at each other with concern before lashing out with laser swords.
Mordred: "NO!"
The swords bounce off of Andy futilely. Mordred hates himself for being lulled into a false sense of empathy with the stupid rock. Andy raises his massive hand. He then waggles it.
Sir Galahad: "Is... is he waving at the guy's attacking him?"
Mordred just manages to give Galahad a troubled nod in affirmation.
Sir Galahad: "Maybe we should take them out anyway. Just in case."
The two of them charge at the Kryptons. Because Galahad stupidly lets loose a battle cry, the two aliens turn with swords poised. One of them snatches a gun from his waist and makes a snap shot at Mordred. The green ball of energy lazily glides straight towards Mordred's head but the prince slices it from the air. He can't help but join Galahad in a roar of battle lust as his sword collides with the enemy's. Galahad's sword is burnt in half instantly and he's left with nothing but the shield. He blocks the attacks of the less proficient alien fighter while Mordred, in his anger, lays into his foe - pounding furiously with Clarent. The white sword eventually slams the laser sword from the Krypton's hand and Mordred doesn't give him the chance to surrender. He pierces the Krypton's chest and thrusts his sword through the creature's body, further and further to the hilt. He screams at the enemy, now dead, before yanking his weapon free.
He looks up to find Galahad defending himself well against the incoming attacks of his own foe. Almost flippantly, Mordred tosses Clarent to Galahad who, upon grasping its hilt, easily blocks a strike and retaliates with a quick jab of the sword to the gut. The Krypton gasps and clutches his wound, dropping the laser weapon. Galahad blows some of his hair from his forehead and hands the sword back to its owner.
Sir Galahad: "Think I'll have to get one of these shiny swords for myself."
Mordred: "Sure your father must have a spare one somewhere. Just nick it."
They manage a half-hearted chuckle as Andy wiggles his stumpy fingers at them.
Lightning streaks by them. First it's the green, aetherial lightning of magic from The Faerie Knight. Then it's the pure, white, natural lightning that usually stems from the sky. Mordred looks up to see Gamma Pans holding up an amulet that casts lightning from its depths.
Mordred: "So they really do have magic!"
Sir Galahad: "Unless it's more of their strange technology..."
Gamma Pans has a helmet upon his head, made of the same liquid metal as his armour - extended from the armour itself like a hood. It comes down low, casting a deep shadow over his eyes which only serves to emphasis how bright and orange his eyes are. Mordred looks back to see that the lightning streaks are chasing off the last of the survivors and Mordred joins in, breathlessly, with the victory cheer.
Gamma Pans approaches the wounded raider that Galahad had spared. He kneels down and grasps the man by his chin. He speaks in his native tongue. In response the raider holds out his palm. Gamma inspects it with narrowed eyes before he holds it up to his fellow Krypton guards.
They all look grim.
Mordred: "What is it?"
Gamma shows Mordred the man's palm where he sees a small symbol, barely noticeable unless looking for it.
Pans: "They're G-Kryptons."
Mordred shakes his head, knowing this is going to spell out politics somewhere.
Pans: "Sorry. That means they're from another clan. We're the X-Kryptons. The G-Kryptons are supposed to be our allies... for some time we've been getting raided by another clan. The G-Kryptons insisted it was the work of the L-Kryptons and we were readying to raid them in response. But now... seems we've been played."
Mordred shrugs.
Mordred: "So you're going to raid the G-Kryptons now?"
Gamma Pans stands slowly.
Pans: "No. This is an act of betrayal. There is no greater crime. We do not raid. We go to war!"
There is a grim silence. It lasts just a brief instant.
Sir Lancelot: "For great justice!!"
Notes[]
TBA