Book 2 Chapter 43

The ship groaned beneath his feet, which honestly was never a good sign. Sir Bron sighed as he looked out over the main hall of the Camelot, the ship, no, his ship, was gradually starting to look more operational. Not at all in the way he would have liked, less like a vehicle more like a building, but at least it wasn’t a ruin anymore. Soon he would have the civilian areas up to what he considered a living standard. And then, well he would simply move on to the next deck.

“Sir! there has been a change of plans Sir!” His comm-line buzzed to life, right as he was about to begin preparations for the inaugural dinner. “Do tell Swanson. But be quick about it if you please.” Swanson had been his ,’ for half a decade now, a reliable officer, not as prone to nonsense as some. “Inaugural dinner postponed, pending resolution of supply issues Sir, apparently someone is giving Commander Damodred trouble.” Well that did not bode well, on the other hand, maybe the sword would finally get the supply lines overhauled into something that would resemble a functional system. “I see, very well. Carry on as usual, and ask the scouts to assess damages on the next deck down, this one is livable enough to hold until the mechanics can check her over.” Of course it also meant he did not have to attend a formal dinner just yet. Not that Sir Bron hated it, but it just seemed like a waste to him.

Mordred kept a brusque pace as he shoved the grav-lifter before him, atop it were the requested supplies and back orders for the order of the road. his own order had to wait as it apparently required more sorting and re labeling of shelves, something the newly instated master of storage would no doubt lament quite a bit. behind him followed his entourage, chuckling no doubt, as they too wished to assist the order that requested the odd mix of medical and construction supplies. (Mordred was rather certain everyone just wanted to watch the world burn in his wake at this point, or perhaps was just curious to see what might unfold next.) Mere moments ago he had arrested the entire supply deck staff and thrust all responsibility upon a single person, who promptly managed to fetch three grav sleds worth of supplies to be delivered to Sir Ingles. Today as such decidedly did not go as planned, and so here they were doing a supply run. “At least you needn’t travel to the Camelot, Mordred, and have a second dinner.” Sir Ton quipped, still in an attempt to ease Mordred’s temper. “Ah, yes I suppose doing chores rather keeps me from visiting friends eh?”Mordred joked back, though his tone did not quite reach his usual mirth. Sir Iwan pushed without a word, shadows closing in on all corners of his mind. How could he possibly prevent getting into trouble? He just saw an entire deck getting arrested, and escorted to the brig over supply issues, and here he was secretly stockpiling them!
Granted he only did so to avoid these exact same supply problems….

Master of logistics Juliën Lagrange sighed as he went through years worth of backed up requests, filtering out those that seemed to be oldest and comparing them to requests made by the same orders that might be for the same items or even upgrades there-of. “The work is endless, and the requests keep coming, perhaps if I were to fulfill the most recent first and work in reverse.” He muttered to no-one in particular. After all the staff was mostly arrested, or absent. As such he was not expecting any form of response. “You could do that Sir, or you could cross reference the system, to see what correlations there are, but for either course of action you would need to verify the state of the goods you need to attain and ship, and of course whether or not we even have them. Oh also hello” The words caught Juliën by surprise, so much so he bit his own tongue.(not too severely, just enough to really hurt, and bleed a little.) As such he stared at the thing that spoke in utter stunned silence. There in the corner sat a thing he had only heard of in passing, read about in rumor posts on the forums, a machine that looked like a little girl, but, something seemed off about it. (aside from such machines not belonging on a ship such as this but in the homes of wealthy aristocrats back on the home worlds, and decidedly not on a logistics deck.) The way it sat, slumped against the stacks, did not match it’s helpful and chipper remark, and why was it in the dark? “I ,” He swallowed, the pain had made him salivate too much. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there before, do you work here?” As far as first introductions went it wasn’t his best, but it beat something like’ aah! ‘ He just hoped he didn’t seem like a complete idiot. “That’s quite alright Sir, I usually get ignored..” The thing hadn’t moved, and as Juliën approached he could see why. It’s joints were bent, plating warped and dented. Someone had deliberately beaten this robot until it couldn’t move.
It’s eyes turned up to meet his, one was blue, the other hazel. “And I used to. ”
For reasons he himself did not understand former page Juliën Lagrange, master of logistics, felt anger well up inside him. And pushed it down. “Would you like to again? I could use the help. We would need to fix you first, but maybe you could tell me where to look for things until then?” He learned where his anger came from when that beaten face smiled at him with a chipper. “Yes Sir, very much so.”

Book 2 Chapter 42.

Sir Ton held his breath, for although his friend had attempted to speak with an air of levity, He knew that the situation was, tense, at best. “Now Mordred, I am certain Gwenn is working on the matter.” An attempt to assuage his friends anger, instead it only seemed to raise his ire. ” It never crossed my mind that Gwenn might be at fault, Ton.” The words carried an air of finality. ” Right, so we going to attack our own then, Knight Commander?” Dame Cerridwen seemed intent to poke the rad bear.
” No, we will not lay a hand on those whom do their duty, a Knight does not attack those they are sworn to protect, as well you would know.” Sir Ton did not manage to hide his irritation, and Mordred merely sighed.

Page Juliën Lagrange could swear he died right there on the spot, not two feet from him stood not one but six Knights, albeit one in robes rather than armour, but still, he could almost touch the highest ranking officers on the ship! How then was it possible that the man behind his console could ignore these people? ” S,,,Sir? I Mean mister,,There is a request for you,,,” The man sighed in a near theatrical way. ” Listen, I am busy, and not even the bloody high whatchamacallit,,,” A hammer leaning lightly on his shoulder stopped his train of thought. ” No bloody high whatchamacallit, just a tower, rook, road, shield, sickle, and really angry sword, here to inquire about your rather lackluster performance, work ethic, and so on.” Sir Ton quipped as he eased his finger closer to the trigger, still hoping not to use it.
“Indeed, I would like to lodge a complaint with your ah, manager? ” As Mordred added his own remark the power to the entire deck was cut, and still the console plonked.

” Right you are Sirs, the manager, yes, however it would seem that the working day just ended, and all matters must therefore be postponed.” The obviously mentally challenged (according to dame Cerridwen anyway.) man smiled. “The system seems to be disconnected from the main power supply and utterly useless, my advice is to remove the human factor, or the error if you will.”Gwenn34 chimed gently into Mordred’s ear, while helpfully displaying a schematic concerning the weak-points of the human skull, and the exact amount of pressure each would need. “You are still on the clock for another three hours.”

The blasted knight refused to give up, regardless of the situation? Fine, there was always the final solution, the one all knights avoided for fear of retribution. ” Oh yes I see, I suppose your matter is more important than this order I just received from the lord Knight commander, I will just let him know that he will need to wait while I gather your medical things or whatnot yes?” Dame Cerridwen nearly choked to death at the mans blatant disregard of reality and the value of his own life. Mordred however played along. ” Oh yes please if you would, could you just call the Commander and let him know?” At this the distribution bay went utterly still, the knight had called his bluff. ” Right I’ll just do that than.” “Yes please.” Slowly the man stood up to walk to a comm line terminal. “Yes just going to call your boss now.” ” The sooner the better.” And on internal comm to Gwenn,” Patch him through…whoever he tries to call. “As behind him Sir Iwan had an epiphany, a tower, rook, road, shield, sickle, and sword, they were the orders, the sword was the only order he knew no member of, but with those gathered and their states of anger accounted the sword must be the Knight Commander. So when Turg mentioned the sword,,, he had meant Sir Mordred, which meant that he once again stood in a minefield. Naturally this thought process rather kept him from enjoying the comedy of the situation, especially as Mordreds comm made a classic ringing sound as the distribution worker hailed him, and he answered with a polite: ” Yes good afternoon, I am rather expecting a call from distribution, could you hold please.” before putting them on hold as if still expecting that same call. ” I,,,I’m on hold,,,” The (possibly soon to be fired, out of an airlock, for treason) man muttered. “Oh? however did that happen? ” Mordred responded, acting as if he had not just audibly done so himself. ” Y,,, You put me on hold.” Mordred shook his head. ” Sorry I’m certain I must have misheard you. Or rather, what was that? ” “You put me on hold!” Mordred for once feeling like he had every right to torment the man, remained silent, but raised his hand to where his ear would be in a theatrical manner, Dame Cerridwen cut all outward comm channels in response. ” I said you put me on hold,,, Sir” And at this he held the horn out so everyone could hear the soothing muzak (elevator music). “Oh ah how embarrassing, I’m sorry, would you like me to answer your call or do you prefer speaking in person?” Mordred’s tone caused those who knew him to shudder, as it was sugary sweet, and smooth like velvet, like a cat purring at a mouse perhaps. The man hung the horn back, and ended the call.

The wall clan had retreated to their barracks, the work done, the break had, and now they were rather smugly preparing to get a lecture about how bad they had been for breaking at least two rules they knew of: 1 Never attack a Knight, and 2 Don’t steal. “So, we were bad, but we only took what he said he would give us, will we get punished? Or only spoken to?” Handy brought up the point they had been thinking about. “I think punished, but sometimes these things, they go oddly.” Turg replied without looking up from his knife. “Say now, do you think we are doing well by rebelling against someone like Iwan, he is a Knight..” Findling stared at her First as if his question was ridiculous, but then gave it some thought. “Pride comes before the fall, we should not be proud of what we did, it was wrong, but why we did it was right? ” Turg nodded at her answer, as Handy giggled, it was their name day, no one stopped it. “So First, Ivan is a Knight, but that does not mean he is like the sword or the tower, he is also no Oleg, no two of them are, why would it be wrong to rebel if the man was bad? is that the answer? Olga was bad, you rebelled, and we all won? now Ivan was bad we all rebelled, we win?” Turg breathed slowly, almost as if he slept, as he organized his mind, formulating his response. “But if it was a test, and we failed because we acted too harshly? Surely no knight is that bad at,,, fighting?” The room went silent, Olga they knew, had underestimated them dearly, but after Olga no other knight should be as unprepared, right? ” What if we passed the Iwan test, first? What if the test was to see if we work well as a clan, or if we can fix things, so they are within the rules?” Rags interjected, hoping to put hope back on the table. ” Doesn’t matter now, eat and be happy, handy has a name, everything else we will see as it comes” Turg smiled. There was no point to worrying. After all he would keep his clan safe.

Book 2 Chapter 41.

Their footsteps were all that kept Iwan’s thoughts at bay, had the trek to the supply bay always been this long? He wasn’t sure, they couldn’t have been at it for more than an hour yet it felt like a year had come and gone, a year in which his unease had grown significantly.
“You could join us, rather than pretend to stalk us, Dame Cerridwen.” Mordred’s voice was low, controlled once again, albeit barely. Iwan gulped, and dame Krim visibly shivered, but neither of the others seemed to respond. ” Aye, noticed me presence already? Yer no fun as usual, Commander.” Like Mordred before her, dame Cerridwen used the external speakers to reply, just as she stepped into formation beside dame Krim. ” You showed a nice response though li’l birdie, did I startle ye?”
To her credit, and unlike most other Knights, Krim nodded, and then seemed to get excited. “How did you do it? Are you using custom dampeners?,your suit doesn’t seem to be all that altered, is it a false shell over a heavily customized inner suit? OH! Is it just a padded outer shell? Is that stealth coating? Are you using a jammer?” The sudden flood of questions burst forth and for a moment it seemed like Krim would faint, from lack of oxygen. “Whoa there, easy girl, ye aren’t even givin’ me a chance ta answer!” “It better not be a stuffed empty shell of a suit.” The anger tinging Mordred’s voice gave everyone pause. “Although I suppose, we would address that issue as well wouldn’t we.”

“I swear bringing things back is more work than taking them” Turg scratched his head at the complaint. ” Shouldn’t be, just less fun, seems like more though.” He did agree, however that did not mean that he would allow himself to slack off. So he hoisted another crate and got back to work. “First, perhaps a water break soon?” It was not as much a question as it was a suggestion. “After this load, yes, and some ration bars too.” The others smiled and doubled their efforts, Findling nodded, satisfied. Turg was not cruel, his answer showed he cared, even if she had to prompt him. “You think Iwan will be alright? He is nasty but death seems a bit harsh?” Handy asked to no one in in particular as he set the riffles where they belonged. “Probably, but if he is fine, we might not be, after all we were in a way, bad.” Turg answered, stacking the ammo cases properly, as opposed to how Iwan had kept them. “You guys think he kept this place wrong as a test?” Findling frowned, as she mulled the idea over. “Probably, maybe his nasty behaving was also a test?” Turg shrugged. “If that was a test, I failed.”

Page Juliën Lagrange gasped as two rows of particularly heavily armed, and armored knights entered the hallway, stopped, stepped to either side, and then snapped to full attention.
“Mister? You might want to come see this,,,,” What else could he do, he stood aside and waited, in his head he screamed at himself to run, no good would come of this surely? Right as he was about to hide a familiar form rounded the corner, and he could no longer. Rather than hide he stood as straight as his small body could, and prayed. ” I’m too busy for this boy, go bother someone else.” The man from the distribution center spoke without bothering to look away from his screen, his face lit in a suspiciously green hue.

“He is playing a simulated card game Sir, retro edition, and he is rather bad at it” Mordred’s eyebrow twitched as he considered the update. ” Nothing to do with work then Gwen, thank you for the heads up, lock his terminals please.” He kept his voice calm, but his hand strayed briefly to the hilt of his blade, or rather where it should be. “Might want to slow down Mordred, we are not supposed to go past the desk.” Sir Ton’s voice was light and seemed to hide a chuckle, as if he expected his friend to ignore the rules anyway. He wasn’t wrong, but being predictable was not something Mordred enjoyed.
Not until he heard the plonk coming from the terminal the distribution deck chief was using, a plonk that told him that terminal was not using standard parts, nor was it locked.
” Gwen, why is he still able to use his terminal to poorly cheat at a digital single player card game?”

Book 2 Chapter 40

As frustrating as it was Sir Iwan politely knocked upon the barracks door, and waited.
This in itself might not seem like a big deal, but to Sir Iwan who was used to barging into any room he pleased… Well frustrating was the best word for it. Just as the door to the barracks opened however, A tall shadow fell over the waiting knight, and a creeping sense of unease prickled along his spine.
“Sir Iwan, how fortunate. We were just on our way to have a little word with you, if you have the time.”
Iwans blood ran cold as he recognised the voice of Knight commander Mordred Damodred. ” Yes sir? I mean, I was a little busy, but if you have need,,” Iwan’s mind raced through doom scenarios as he turned to face not one but three of his superiors. “Good, you see we have some supply issues.” As he said it, Mordred placed a hand on Iwan’s shoulder, and led him along, away from the barracks.

Turg and Findling stared as the sword, tower, and shield led the annoying man away. “We got him into trouble,,” Findling offered, Turg nodded. “The sword knows,,,Should we return everything?” Turg thought about it, than decided against it. ” Not exactly, we bring the weapons back, almost all, we keep one each, and bullets, we put them where they go. The way old man Oleg said, like the rules. ” The others nodded at his words, Findling smiled. “He will think he went insane when he returns to find everything in place.” Turg nodded at her, the plan was made, his tribe prepared, all had agreed.

Olga stared at Oleg’s oversight screen, as the young squires returned most of their loot to Iwan’s stores, neatly placing them in lockers, ammo removed and stored separately. “Zey are doing this rather well, I did not notice the, ah , attention they payed during lessons?” Oleg smiled at her attempt to curb her accent, and nodded.” Indeed, it would seem this group learns things in a very different way to how we were taught. They remind me of you actually.” Olga snorted, remembering the old days. ” If they get in trouble in the same way, we should intervene, no?” Oleg was quiet for a bit, before answering. ” This too is a lesson, but a practical one. I will speak with Iwan later, alert him to what is going on and such.”

“Now sir Iwan, as you might have deduced from my tone, I am mightily displeased with the state of our supplies.” Mordred spoke with a tone laden with disdain, and anger, as he walked. “Sir, I assure you I can explain everything.” Sir Iwan offered in despair. “NO, you will not explain, nor shall you make excuses, you shall instead enact upon the complaints, and solve the issues I present you with.” Mordred cut him of as he suddenly stood still. “I am done being lied to, understood?” Iwan felt like he could pass out at the drop of a hat, but nodded. “Good, we need to have a word with the workers in the distribution bay, are you armed?” Again it was all he could do to nod. ” Well hop to it man! Those slackers will learn the meaning of blessed son soon enough.” The pure vitriol in the knight commanders voice caught sir Iwan by surprise almost as much as knowing who it was directed at. It would seem he was not yet in trouble. “Sir, might I know why we are to bring the fear of death to our own?” He risked his neck by asking, but not asking would lead to surprises down the road. Mordred did not turn to answer this time, merely kept his pace as he seemed to radiate anger. “Not the fear of death, sir Iwan, no not death. The fear of failure, the knowledge of consequences, and above all, the fear of being the cause of death.” His tone had returned to its usual levels, no longer aggravated, but somehow carrying a tremmor that reminded Iwan of danger, the kind you could not see but felt. The kind of threat that kept children away from abandoned houses, or old wells.

It was only then that sir Iwan noticed dame Krim somewhat hidden between dame Ariadne and sir Ton, wearing somewhat loose fitting robes, and a picture started to form in his mind, one that saw the proud few fighting with the same issues that quartermasters across the sword were facing. ” Are we finally going to knock some sense into the supply line then? I myself have stockpiled spare parts for those of my order, and some for the weapon repairs.” It was a risk, but a calculated one, officially his actions would be frowned upon, but given the current mood, they might be condoned. “We will educate them not to ignore a knight’s request. After all their very existence aboard this ship is meant to support the orders, not the other way around.” The answer had come from sir Ton, his voice somehow more optimistic than that of the commander, who remained silent, seeming to be planning the confrontation with the distribution center. All in all Iwan agreed with sir Ton, but he couldn’t help but wonder why it seemed like such a fresh grudge. So he did what he did best, he nodded, shut up and went along. And behind him, like a shadow, so did dame Ceridwen.

Book 2 Chapter 39

Sir Iwan froze as he saw the squires standing, three at a time would be in his field of vision but if and when he moved they would move along, always hiding the remaining members from his view.
That however was not the thing that gave him pause, what had given him pause was that they had taken the moment his attention had been on either Turg or Findling to arm themselves. ” I bet those do have bullets in them, SIR Iwan. ” He knew Findling was right, he kept the guns primed and ready, even though the regulations said he shouldn’t. A point of pride was that his fellows were ready at the drop of a hat. “Pride, comes before the fall.” Turg spoke from mere inches behind his head. “You are just like her, like Olga. But we are not proud, we know we are weak, we know we need to be smart.” A firing pin locked into the ready position. ” Give my second her bullets, and a knife for everyone, or you learn the same lesson. ” There was no malice in the boy’s voice, no intent to scare him or even threaten, Turg spoke as if he was reading out facts of a sheet. “I will, but after that Turg dear boy, you mut let me pick a gun for you, or better yet, let me make you one.” Sir Iwan was intrigued, he had not seen a group of unarmoured creatures coordinate like this before, not since his youth, not since they themselves had been children running through the streets of their hometown. Oleg had pulled a fast one on him, and he couldn’t wait to return the favor.

Sir Oleg casually sat at Olga’s bed, the bruises were already lessening, and the smile on her face spoke volumes. “So, still want to break their spirits to make them comply Olga? ” Her smile only widened. “Nyet old friend, they remind me too much of, how we used to be, and if Gwalcahad had never broken us we would be so glorious now, rules be damned no?” “Good effort, rules be damned indeed.” He remembered the old masters they served under so long ago, not least of all Gwalcahad, outwardly a saint to all, but in private with his squire,,. A shudder ran along his spine as anger briefly reared it’s head. ” We can not be our teachers Olga, we will teach our students, our way. Of course we will teach them the rules, but only so they know when they break them.” Olga chuckled. ” So vere are they now Oleg, you didn’t leave them without supervision, right?” This caused Sir Oleg to briefly frown before he simply replied: ” They are with Iwan, that should be supervision enough, don’t you think? ” Olga burst out in raucous laughter. ” Hah, pff poor Iwan, hah! Vat is your plan here old man?” Sir Oleg smiled, not because of his plan but because he just remembered how Iwan tended to be somewhat bad at keeping by the rules, especially concerning weapons storage.

Iwan awoke with a groan, his head pounding, he had no idea how long he had been out cold, or even how it had come to be. A cursorry look around his armoury however gave him a single piece of knowledge he had to face, a certainty he hated already. He had been out long enough for the children to empty out his stores. All the guns were missing, as were all the munitions. Well everything he had ready and not locked away, he consoled himself, right until he noticed one of the safe doors being ajar. Blood dripped down his face as he rose far to easily from his prone position. ” What in the world,,,why am I naked?!” Hurriedly he rushed to his chamber, the safe door forgotten. Those punks had took his armour!
“Iwan to Oleg, secure line, damn it all to, OLEG ANSWER ME!” But no answer came. his comm system was linked to his suit, of course. Meanwhile back in their bunk room Findling studied her weapon, specifically the magazine that came with it, it seemed longer than standard, like it took longer munitions, it was also less tall, but the width was the same, so they had spent some time looking for a bullet that fit, simple. Well if you consider knocking a large man out with a desk, and stealing all his stuff simple. Also the whole issue where there were locked safes that needed opening, how fortunate that he had a key in his suit. Handy was chuckling giddily at the whole thing, but then he had been the one to find the key, it was why they called him handy now, and everyone got to be happy on their naming day, so that was fine. ” Found one” Turg spoke up as he held out a box of the longer than standard bullets. ” Can’t read these letters yet, but the size seems right” Findling loaded the clip with the odd looking bullets. “Thank you first.” She said it casually, but the whole room went tense for a bit, before relaxing again.

Sir Iwan was calm now, he had donned his spare clothes and taken the time to asses his situation; 1 Unarmed children had outsmarted him, 2 The children had armed themselves, 3 They had knocked him out, despite being well able to kill him, and finally, 4 He had underestimated them and belittled them in a way his own teacher used to do to him, causing them to, 5 Take all his weapons.
“How am I going to get it all back, without getting shot?” He asked no one in particular, something he had become accustomed to during the hours working on his guns. As such he did not expect an answer, much less from a fellow knight. ” Have you considered asking politely? ” Dame Ceridwen leaned against the wall with a smirk, she wasn’t of his order, but she would often visit his workshop. “Are you serious?” Iwan frowned as Ceridwen pushed of the wall while nodding. ” Aye, deadly serious Iwan, ye must know that to be the best path before ye, or ye can lay siege to the barracks, and underestimate them again, Olga is in medbay over underestimating the kiddo’s. You, yer pride got hurt, go talk to them fairly.” She had a point, and Iwan hated it.

Book2 Chapter 38

Sir Iwan’s armoury was well ordered, and stocked. But not in the way most of the armouries aboard the “Sword of Damocles” were. Here there were neat foot lockers anchored to the floor, laden with munitions, each carefully and individually wrapped, there stood easily accessed wall mounts filled with well maintained standard issue arms, and behind a thick ballistic wall sat Iwan’s workshop. With on the central work bench a single ancient gun, marvelously restored to function. A gun Findling recognized. ” Miss Findling your weapon, as requested, repaired restored and ready to use. But without munitions. Can’t have you blowing heads off.” Findling stepped forward and took the gun, still seeming almost comically oversized for her frame, and checked the chamber. It was indeed empty.

Turg took this moment to cast about the room, finding several workbenches all littered with bits and pieces of gear, mostly partially disassembled guns. But he could not find the promised knives. “No bullets for her, no knives for us.” He lightly bent his knees, left hand on the grip of his knife. Iwan noticed the tension building. Good, the boy had a decent instinct. “Well, of course not, I still need to make them!” Turg frowned at his words, apparently the boy had some issues with superiors, understandable really, Iwan had little love for them either.”I know it seems dumb, but these will be made,,” Turg cut him of. “Bullets.”

Sir Oleg stared at the request forms, and once again disregarded the stack requesting individual members of Turg’s crew. He would not seperate them. Not if he could help it anyway, and knight commander Mordred had given him just enough authority to. These squires would develop into a capable unit, more so than when trained seperately. Something he had set sir Iwan up to discover. Sure his scheme was, for lack of a better word, dirty. But this would get yet another knight on his side, and soon he would have convinced enough of them to make group training feasable.

—–authors note—- So this one is somewhat short, and quite possibly a mess of odd words and spelling, life has been”busy” and not in the fun way, so appologies . This one was done entirely via the WordPress app, and though having it is a blessing, the spellcheck and auto-correct are not. For one Turg is not Turk, but if any of these oddities slipped through my own check, at least you’ll know it wasn’t on purpose.

Book 2 Chapter 37

Turg awoke to the familiar sound of rain, but rather than relaxing he jolted upright. They hadn’t had rain (or any type of weather really) ever since they got taken in. “Morning, good reaction. Best one yet.” Their teacher for today looked tired, but not the kind of tired sleep could fix. “Sir, good morning Sir.” Turg swallowed no less than seven angry remarks as he got out of his bed. “Squire Turg, I believe someone must have been remiss in your education, no need to tell me who. The trainee uniform is not meant to be slept in.” After Turg stepped out from behind his bed he added: “And neither are those boots.”
Findling smiled when she heard this, and added sleeping with your boots on, to her list of things that might be handy. “Sir, this squire refuses to trust the teachers, Sir.” Just enough respect that the Knight technically couldn’t consider it rude, at least not officially.

“I, see, Squire Turg, were you told not to wear your uniform to bed?” Turg ignored the man as he went through his footlocker, belt, bottles, knife. Good it was all there. He went a step further and checked the blade for tampering. “Squire Turg, I asked you a question” The knights voice was as monotonous as before. Not tired Turg thought, maybe bored fit better? “Are you Oleg?”Turg asked, in a similar tone to the knight. He knew the answer. “No, I am Sir Iwan.” Turg nodded, and Findling could smell the trouble in the air. “The wall clan only hears Sir Oleg as a teacher.” There it was, ever since the crate incident Turg had been like this. “On who’s authority do you believe you can afford to cross me?” Oddly the man sounded amused, the first hint of anything but boredom or tiredness in his voice, his face however was one of surprise, and maybe contempt. They had all seen it before. “The sword has said Sir Oleg would take care of the wall clan.”

Sir Iwan stared at the obviously delusional fool before him, the sword? a talking sword? the boy must be insane! “Very well, what were this sword’s exact words boy?” Findling stepped in, physically placing herself between the knight and Turg.”He used his comm line, we do not know the exact words. we do know Sir Oleg is our teacher. We also know the others are not. ” Her words were defiant, and she had deliberately avoided the use of Sir where possible. As far as she was concerned Turg had just set the wall clan on a clear course, and she would back him up.”Good to know, and what then pray tell was this swords name?” Sir Iwan had an inkling that they might use the sword as a way to describe a person, since some knights carried actual swords. “Mordred, his name is Mordred, the one named Ton said so.” She stared up at the Knight defiantly. “Well, that makes sense, and is good. You see I am not here to teach. Show me that knife you hid.” Turg shrugged. unlike before he now knew that they were probably no match for the Knight so he held out his knife, still sheathed. “You may keep this, but it is not a blade suited to you, well the you that will be. That is why I am here actually, I am to see what weapons will suit you best. Not teach, just equip.”Sir Iwan smiled. not because of his words, but because of the state the little knife was in, the edge was keen, the handle freshly wrapped.
Turg put it back on his belt.

The man no longer looked like he did when Turg woke up, more alive now as he led the way.
“Every one of you will receive a new knife, you care for them well. And little miss Findling a treat, you already have a boon, someone has decided to sponsor you, and stipulated you receive a certain gun. Otherwise we will find out what suits!” Sir IWan grinned now, his fingers joyfully drumming on the helmet he had locked on his hip. These children were proving to be interesting after all.

Book 2 Chapter 36

Mordred frowned at the page that held the info sheet up at him. “I see a request important enough to require a runner, but….Nevermind just hand it to me.” It was quite frustrating that this had to happen right before dessert but someone had evidently read the newsletter and he had jokingly added that really urgent requests could always be delivered in person. So he read the text as it scrolled across the screen, a request for a ludicrous amount of medical equipment and the presence of Dame Krim. “Hmmm interesting, well now is as good a time as any I suppose. Dessert will have to wait, we are needed elsewhere. Gwenn the request on this info sheet, can you validate it please?” The sheet lit up right after the question, followed by a happy chirp of acknowledgement. “Page, this request has been validated, see to it it gets delivered expediently, We will deliver Dame Krim ourselves.”

Page Juliën Lagrange squeezed his own arm as he ran along towards the distribution bay. Surely the men would never believe him. Still he had a properly validated request form. What could they do to stop him? He already knew the answer, everything. “Hold, you got a reason to be here runner? ” Ah there it was. “Yes sir, validated supply request sir.” The man that had stopped him sighed. “I am no Sir son, I work for a living, well technically so do the blessed sons that we serve, but still, let’s have a look at your request form eh?” The man chuckled as he took the info sheet. “Oh, well speak of the devil, validated request for the blessed sons, wonder who validated it huh, hahaha don’t fret boy, we probably have all of this out at them in a week, yeah?”The man carelessly tossed the request aside as he sauntered of into the distribution bay.

“Gwenn, what is the status of the request?” Mordred asked as he fitted Dame Krim with her new helm. “Treated as any other request Sir Mordred, that is to say technically accepted, the page seems frustrated, and I don’t have audio in that area for privacy reasons.” Mordred frowned, but for now was to busy to act on his frustration in the way he wanted. “Gwenn I want eyes present, just because I didn’t send the order via my usual route does not mean there is no need for it to be treated as such.” He filed the distribution bay’s reluctance away in his mind as part of the reason for certain Knights being under equipped. Something he needed to see to.

Dame Ariadne pouted a little as she worked, she for one was looking forward to the girls dessert, but an emergency request should always take priority over ones private needs. “I am certain they’re working hard.” She heard Dame Krim mumble almost as in answer to her own thoughts. “More like hardly working.” Interjected Sir Ton as he threw his hands up into the air in utter frustration. “This has to be the wrong part! It simply does not fit!” “Is it 23 delta, size m? ” Mordred asked as he fiddled with a cable that wouldn’t stay in its slot. It started to look like sabotage to him but he had suspected that he was being paranoid, after all it could all just as easily be negligence or coincidence. And he had been leaning a bit heavily to the more negative lately.

“25 alpha size xs, with fentiman type connectors. Mordred this can’t stand. There is no way we can let her wear this hodgepodge of wrong parts! even with the tinkering and the fixing, even if you were to redo all the wiring, and make clamps to hold it together it would still not fit.” Sir Ton had a point, besides everything being difficult to work with the part as certainly not what he had ordered. Also, outdated by at least three revisions. “Ton, lend her one of your off duty robes, Ariadne, call your order, have them secure our path, standard parade protocols, Gwenn, ignore privacy I NEED to know what is going on with distribution!” Mordred’s voice was steady, curt. His orders were simple, and easily followed as he himself put on his official armour.
He would be damned if he would let this all slide.

Book2 Chapter 35

The lights flickered, as metal got bent into shape.
“Say, Miriam, would you recall the case files concerning the ahem ‘dragon’ I do believe they would be rather applicable, no?” Sir Ingles smiled as he matched piston to limb. “I have read them several times yes, but the current set ups are very far removed from those mentioned, then again, with the appropriate application of certain techniques we could ah, stop distracting me!” Somewhat flustered Dame Spriggot tightened bolt and tested join. “One large issue is of course that this was not done by a mechanic, sloppy cable work really. ” Dunnhain chimed in as he was in the process of documenting the wires, and under his breath he added.”Just like the rest of the ship really, might have been the mechanic after all all things considered.”

Doctor Holme could do little but stare in amazement as these men and women worked, each had a specific task they were completing, however they did so without even consulting one another. And quite frankly his private office (if you could call the room that) was currently a disorganized mess of wires, tubing, and varying lengths of metal both beams and sheets. “What are you all doing? You ought to be in bed and resting! You, you are barely recovered from your burns !” He wanted to protest more, but the patients were ignoring him. “Annoying isn’t it? When you get ignored I mean, or more specifically when someone works to save you in spite of you knowing it’s futile. How long have you not slept doc? one, two maybe three hundred months, or years? Have you even kept track?” Dr. Holme looked at the cracked jar holding half the amount of fluid it should. “We are not limited like the others, we don’t have bodies that will fail when we rest. Granted our minds are strained even I know this, but that may not mean we die, we may yet be saved. ” He replied, causing the nurse to remain silent. The truth was that Dr. Holme estimated the chances of success to be well below 10 percent but saying it would be admitting defeat. “Would it be fair for us to make it doctor? I would like having a body other than this.” Nurse was lucid, a rare occurrence lately. “It is not about fairness or right and wrong N,,,,Beatrice.” He stopped and stared at the jumble of cables and wires. What drove these people to do this?

“Remind me who are we building? Oh better yet Why are we not just using a tomb?” The assorted engineers laughed. “Leave medicine to the normies!! We do mechanical solutions” They replied as one to the grand mechanic. until Dame Spriggot added “Obviously we are building a body for the cute nurse that gives me coffee!” Raucous laughter erupted. And the three brains in jars were left to wonder, what exactly did they mean with tomb?
“Oh that might work actually! ” Dunnhain bolted upright and twisted to face his superiors. “If we had some tomb parts, we could easily upgrade the bodies to be more, well logical!” Sir Ingles started to grin like a maniac, and Dame Spriggot chuckled, then the both turned to face each other, and actually considered it. “By cog! I think we got it!” Without being told three members of te order split off from the manufacturing chaos, and ran of like hell itself was chasing them. Meanwhile all the others started speaking to each other in half sentences. “If we add,,,,Yes of course but then…..No worries we can always…..” The entire mood changed from chaotic positive to something closer to organised optimism. And the doctor that used to be so confident frowned in confusion as rather than frames with pistons the former patients started to work on metal bones instead.

“Miriam I believe we might need to keep this from the other orders. ” Sir Ingles muttered as he worked on a particularly intricate set of hinges meant to allow the placement of a brain into the metal skull. “Why ever not oh good Sir?” Chuckled Dame Spriggot as she calculated material needs and fed it to the three scavengers via text. “Also don’t call me that we’re working.” Sir Ingles flinched at the admonishment. “Yes sorry, habit.” The question only registering later. “Ah, because it is a difficult enough procedure, that we only just came up with, and don’t know for sure will work?” It went quiet for a bit until Dunnhain spoke up. “And here I thought it was because of the whole knight commanders mother dying to a similar situation thing.” Everyone stared at him in shock. “What? Oh as if I’m the only one that reads the news letter!” From behind him one of the younger members piped up “There’s a newsletter?” Automatically followed up by Sir Ingles “Yes there is, didn’t you get the memo?” As Dame Spriggot texted Dunnhain.”1, When did this happen, 2 WHAT????? 3 Seriously there’s a newsletter?? 4 Details on that procedure and it’s failing please.” Dunnhain sighed as he read it, having believed that his superior was perhaps the editor of said newsletter he also believed they already knew everything contained therein. As such he responded by simply forwarding the newsletter to both her and Sir Ingles. What followed was a rapid exchange of glances between the two senior most officers of the order of the road, and really it would have been hilarious to watch if they didn’t seem so obviously disturbed. After which they sat down and started drawing schematics on the floor.
“Well back to the drawing board!”

Book 2 Chapter 34

Findling pushed, her arms burned, still the crate did not budge, the giant that she had once feared, but now knew was a Knight rather than a giant, (a small and in her opinion silly distinction really, the man was huge, almost as wide as she was tall, even without the armour.) had clearly meant for this task to be a lesson. How had he worded it again? “Move this crate without tools, do this and you will be ready for the lessons with tools.” Annoyance flared up on her face as she shouldered the crate again. Turg frowned, he had an idea, but it might get his second into trouble. “Stop. ” A simple single word spoken without raising his voice, and immediately Findling obeyed. From the observation bay Sir Oleg chuckled, these kids were growing on him more and more, and if he was right they would break quite a few expectations, from the looks of it starting now. The other captains standing with him did not yet see what he did, but they would soon.

Turg made sure his clan could see him, and were focussed on his words before he spoke. “The big said move, not where to, just move, also no tools, he never said alone.” Raggs nodded as it started to dawn on him. “Think everyone push? Maybe slide it litle bit not far, that enough?” Findling sighed, The order was given to her and now Turg had to fix it, but more so it was a solution she could have thought up by herself, but somehow hadn’t. “Why did I not think of that? ” Turg chuckled, and held one of the new meals up. He had only been eating half portions, and hidden the other half, the taste had been off. “Thinking clear is hard, but that is part of the test.” The others nodded, then stared at him for a while. “We lift one side, and throw it over, don’t care if it’s loud, or break stuff, but we all lift together.” With those words he passed the bottle from his belt, water he himself had gotten, not water they had been given. In the observation bay Oleg smiled. He had always hated the impediment test, drugging squires was a bad idea and unfair as well, seeing these kids bypassing it was in a word brilliant. Helga however, (the one that had to manage the test) simply looked on incredulously. She had not noticed the starving wolf look that Turg had adopted, the bottle of pure filtered water, or the well hidden concern for his friends, she focused to much on the frustration the others showed.

Back in the training hall the children put their shoulders low against the crate, and as expected nothing seemed to happen, after all they should be too tired, too addled to push well. Just as Helga had planned, after all she had bones to pick with the upstart so called second. The squire that refused her at every turn, that kept others from finding a knight to apprentice with and never even deemed her worthy of a reply. Basically Helga was trying to force Findling to acknowledge her existence, while punishing all of them for ignoring her.
As such she had chosen to remain in the training hall rather than behind the glass of the observation bay, and for once Oleg had not tried to stop her, instead mumbling about hubris or something ridiculous like that. She didn’t think it was appropriate at that time, nor applicable to her personal situation.
She even chuckled out loud and considered removing her helm( a mandatory safety measure for all Knights entering the training grounds, courtesy of Oleg), When a sudden chorus of voices welled up from behind the crate, and rose in volume and power until it became a roar.

Their muscles burned, bones ached. But giving up was not an option, fingers dug under the crate’s edge the Wall clan heaved with all the strength they could muster, and lifted. A buzz tickled Findlings ear barely audible beneath the roar a humming she knew, but fought to place, she heard it every day, but what was it? She turned her head to look at Turg, his face a snarling grimace, his eyes burning feverishly. Doors, it was the sound of the doors! Findling stopped roaring, but did not stop pulling, in fact she doubled the force she was using as she hissed. “Door.” Turg nodded, eased up, but kept roaring, and peered over the crate. The woman Knight was standing there, with a box in her hand, a box with three buttons. “Raggs, take Findlings place, Findling, with me, up and over.”

Something was wrong, Oleg knew it the moment the crate did not budge, the two other captains chuckled and commented that this was a surprisingly weak batch, but Oleg knew the crate should have moved with three of them, but it appeared as if bolted to the floor.
That was when he saw the team change their approach, as Findling and Turg released their grip, and like springs released leapt onto the top of the crate and heading straight for Helga on the other side. Helga who was holding the mag lock controller. “What has she done? ”

Helga did not notice the commotion on the observation bay, she did not hear the change in the screaming, she did not see the incoming call notification. But she did feel the two little balls of rage that impacted with her torso. What followed was a mad scramble across the training hall floor. Helga completely caught by surprise went down, hard. Tackled by two squires barreling into her from an elevated position. The first thing she did was reach for her weapon. This was a mistake, as it meant letting go of the mag lock controller, which scattered across the floor. It also meant she drew her weapon from its secured position, something a mere squire would not be able to do, and into her much less secure hand. ( Making it easier for the squires to take it.) And all in all the situation would have gone belly up really quickly if the two were still near her. But instead of pointing her weapon at two enraged unarmed children, she found herself waving it aimlessly in the air.

Reports would later state that equipment malfunction had been the cause for the ‘training ground incident’ , after all there was no other explanation for a fully armed and armored knight to be caught of guard by two squires, let alone to be crushed with a container. And al though Helga survived, she was not quite the same after the incident. One thing was certain however. Findling had acknowledged her existence.