<USS Avalon> Preventative hindsight pt2-The curse of Excalibur

Preventative Hindsight

PT 2-The Curse of Excalibur

-a Background log by Ensign Leila Criswell




A cool morning mist enshrouded the ancient stone castle, circling it like a 
shade from the darkest nightmare. The air felt cold and moisture seemed to 
stick to everything. As the morning crept on, the mist began to thin, and the 
tops of coniferous trees became slowly visible. The castle courtyard also began 
to come to life. Servants and pages came out of the stone structure, some 
cleaning up after the animals, some simply tending to the animals, and some 
with tasks that did not appear evident.

One such busybody was a boy named Arthur, the adopted son of the castle?s owner 
who at present was fighting a holy war in the far off lands of the barbarian 
Moors. Arthur was adopted, the true son of this man having died of dysentery 
some twelve years earlier. Needless to say, he was not as popular as his 
younger sister or his older brother, and his father made this quite clear. 
Arthur was little more than a slave to his father, but as his father was gone, 
Arthur had positively been on holiday.

The castle gates opened as soon as the mid morning sun had cleared up the mist 
(For the people of that time were highly superstitious. One couldn?t have 
ghosts or witches invading the castle in the fog.), and Arthur was one of the 
first people out. He had already finished his chores inside the castle and 
there would be no work for him to do till dinner. He followed the peasants to 
the fields, picking up a stick along the way and pretending to fight phantom 
enemies with it. 

A clutch of pheasants flew up into the air a mile or so away, catching Arthur?s 
eye and causing him to misjudge. He tripped on a rock and fell down into the 
mud with a sloppy slap. He could hear shouts and hollers, and he stuck his 
filthy face up to see what was going on. 

A convoy consisting of several people, a tent, twenty or so horses, and a 
couple goats was coming up towards the castle, the flag of his father flying 
high above the mobile tent.

?Oh no.? Arthur whispered, certain his father would be angry with him for 
dirtying his clothes. Even if he wasn?t, he?d find something else to give 
Arthur a good, long beating about.

His uncle spotted him peeking over the brush. ?Arthur, my boy. Hurry to the 
castle and tell your aunt that she must prepare a bath and a bed. Your father 
is wounded. Have her fetch a doctor as well!?

?Yes sir.? Arthur shouted and sprinted to the castle. He liked his uncle more 
than his father, as he had stuck up for him on more than one occasion while his 
father, in a drunken haze, had attempted to pummel him.

Inside the castle, news spread fast. Soon everyone was frantically trying to 
make the edifice spotless so the master of the house would not be angry. He had 
been known to hang people on lesser occasions. 

Arthur never saw his father, but the commotion surrounding his return bordered 
on that of panic. He guessed that his father had been wounded something fierce, 
and from what it sounded like, he was quite near death. With little else to go 
on, he was force to wait in his father?s chamber until his bath and dressing 
were over.

When his father finally arrived, he looked sick and pale. It appeared that much 
of his hair was in one stage or another of falling out. Large patches of skin 
shone bright white on his skull. His eyes seemed to have lost all color. What 
was more surprising was that he, who had been something of a portly fellow, was 
now nothing more than skin and bones. What little flesh he seemed to possessed 
simply hung from the bones like some cheap clothing.

?Father! What has happened to you?? Arthur blurted out.

His father, though near death, was still as mean and vicious as ever. ?You will 
be..? He coughed. ?Silent, child.?

Arthur sank back dejectedly. ?Yes sir.?

His uncle looked at him sadly and winked. ?Worry not, my boy. All will be clear 
in a few minutes. You must follow me.?

Arthur obeyed and followed his uncle out of his father?s sleeping chamber.

?Your father,? His uncle began, ?has committed a crime against the heavens. He 
will be dead shortly.?

?How do you know??


?He disobeyed God himself. Is there any other punishment??

?No sir.?

?Your father has taken a holy treasure from the barbarian moors, and he will 
pay for it with his life.?


?What did he take??

?A sword, but not just any sword. It is an evil sword, filled with demonic 
magic, cursed by the heavens themselves. But your father in his infinite 
stupidity took it.?

?What can be done with the sword??

?He still has it, but I will not let it go to your brother when he dies. It is 
said that any man who touches it will die, but I have read further into the 
magic. There is a protective curse to save those who wish to wield it?s power.?

?Oh??

?I have the power to wield that sword without dying. The blessed gauntlets. I 
brought them back with me and as soon as your father and his eldest and true 
son have died, I will become ruler of this castle.?


?Why tell me??

?To keep you from doing anything foolish. We can?t have our favorite nephew 
dying from the same stupidity that has smitten his father, now can we??

Arthur smiled, but it wasn?t a nice one. ?No. No we can?t.?

___________________________________________________________________________

In the weeks that passed, Arthur?s father died. His brother fell ill shortly 
after and he too died. Then, unexpectedly to all but Arthur, his uncle?s health 
began to deteriorate. Within a week, he was so near death that he could barely 
even speak or breath. It was then that Arthur confronted him.

?I thought you said that you had the answer to the sickness.?

His uncle wheezed and coughed, then nodded his heavy head.

?Why are you dying then??

A slight shake, signifying ignorance made Arthur smile.

?It?s a pity you don?t have those magic gloves now.?

His uncles eyes grew clear and he focused on Arthur?s face.

Arthur?s voice dropped to an almost imperceptible level. ?Indeed, it is too 
bad. But don?t worry, I know where they are. You see, I took them.?

There was a stiff and uncontrollable sputter from his uncle?s throat, his eyes 
growing wide in disbelief. Then, with one last exhale, he died.

?And now, with my sword and gauntlets, I, Arthur, shall rule this kingdom with 
an iron fist. I shall be called king one day, and none shall oppose me and 
live. The sword Excalibur shall make certain of that.?

 

 

 

Earth: 2267 The Sahara Desert

Doctor Denise Johnson removed her straw hat and wiped the sweat from her head 
with one arm. Long black bangs stuck persistently to her face despite her 
efforts to free them. The hot desert sun had been somewhat bearable for the 
past few weeks, but she was getting tired of spending all day grubbing around 
in the sand looking for ancient artifacts that probably weren?t there.

?Doctor Johnson?? one of her colleagues called from the pavilion. 

She set the tiny brushes she was using down and stepped inside the humid tent. 
One would think that being in the shade and all, it would be cooler inside, but 
then one would be wrong. The duralyite plastic that the tent was made of 
ensured it would last through even the toughest of sand-storms, but it also 
trapped heat, and with several perspiring bodies inside, the humidity. The air 
stank of people.

?What is it, Fries??

Martin Fries smiled broadly. ?We?ve found something. Not a temple or even an 
obelisk, something big.?

?So? Maybe it?s another mineral deposit.?

?No, spectrographic images show this to be of uniform shape and size, perhaps 
some metallic structure that was damaged or not yet completed.?

?How far down??

?Two point four thousand meters.?

?That would put it right at the start of the pre-dynastic period. They didn?t 
have the technology to build anything out of metal beyond simple weaponry. And 
they never built anything larger than a chariot or basin out of metal. Solid 
metal that is. Do you think it is just inlaid with this metal??

?It is possible. We?ll never know until we go down there and dig it up.?

?Then let?s get started.?

___________________________________________________________________________

Three weeks and several thousand meters down, tension and excitement were 
building.

?I thought you said it was here.? Doctor Johnson set her shovel down and rubbed 
her bandaged knuckles.

?It is. It is. Just a few more meters.? Martin Fries had the look of a deranged 
man, shoveling deeper. ?Berkeley, you better run that sand lift faster!?

?Aye sir,? replied Berkeley from the surface. Fries didn?t think that he 
sounded right, but he was several thousand meters above him and Fries didn?t 
care how he sounded. He was about to make the archeological discovery of the 
century.

Denise folded her arms across her chest and yawned. ?Any day now.?

?I?m working! I?m working!?

There was an unmistakably metallic clank, the sound of the shovel striking 
something not sand.

Martin gasped. ?That?s it! We?ve found it!?

?Lemme see!? Denise shoved him aside. He ignored her rude intrusion and dove 
back to the hole where he assisted her in shoving (rather unceremoniously) the 
sand aside. A metal plate or panel, perhaps a door lay just centimeters down.

Silver glinted beneath the dull brown sand. They frantically scooped handfuls 
of earth away.

?My god. It?s?it?s Federation.?

Indeed it was. The unmistakable symbol of the Federation, the golden sweeping 
arrowhead was marked clearly on a panel that said in plain English ?Air Lock.?

?Air lock? What the hell? Is this a joke!?? Denise was livid.

?No! I swear it! Look.? He reached down and pulled a manual hatch lever. The 
airlock slid aside. Foul smelling air rushed out with an audible hiss.

?Should we? That is, do you want to go in?? Fries asked deliberately.

?Of course.? Denise was already lowering herself into the hatch. ?Toss me a 
light.?

Fries dropped a flashlight into the hatch and then followed his boss in.

It was very dark until they activated their portable lights. 

?It?s Federation all right, but like no ship I?ve ever seen.?

?Where do you think we are??

Doctor Johnson looked around the corridor for a second, spotted a marked 
turbolift entrance and spoke. ?Deck two.?

?Do you think the turbolift will be working??

?I?m sure it will. This ships only been here since the dawn of time. Here. Do 
you want me to call the lift for you, or can you do it yourself.? A look of 
disgust filled Denise?s features. ?No. You know, your stupidity sometimes 
borders on the imbecilic.?

?Sorry. How do you suppose we?re going to go up then.?

?Why up? Why not down, deeper into the structure.?

?Because, up is where the bridge is.?

?If this is actually a ship, yes.? She looked up. ?Fine then, you bring a rope??

?Yup.?

?It looks as if part of the deck plating has corroded or collapsed over there. 
We can climb up through the hole.?


?Sounds like a plan.?

_______________________________________________________________________

The deck above them was no less dusty or deteriorated than the first. The two 
archeologists emerged in a room with a long table. Windows that once looked out 
to space were now encrusted with minerals and coated with dust. The table 
itself was cracked in the center and was covered with rust and sand.

?Look at this place. Looks like a disaster area.?

?It?s beautiful.? Denise said, the breath literally taken from her. ?I?ve never 
seen anything like it.?

?It?s a messy room. What?s so unique about that??

Chairs littered the floor and a few were on the table.

?You?re right, this is a ship of some kind. This must be the briefing room.? 
She pointed. ?Look over there.? 

?The USS Ulysses. To explore the galaxy with undying courage, may the winds be 
at our backs and our souls forever willing.? Fries read. ?She was a Yamoto 
class starship. NCC-3449-C.? He looked at the mirror coated models in the 
display case. Several panels of the glass that had once protected the case were 
shattered, so he was careful not to cut himself as he reached out to touch the 
miniatures.

?It looks like she was originally Miranda-class, then Soyuz-class. I don?t 
recognize this class though?Ambassador. Hmm.? Denise shrugged. ?This was a 
Yamato-Class starship. Never heard of that either. See if maybe we can get into 
the bridge.?

After a few minutes of struggling with ancient doors sealed by time, the two 
archeologists managed to force their way onto the main bridge of the derelict 
starship.

?Fascinating.? Denise Johnson couldn?t contain her excitement. ?It looks as if 
they were mummified on the spot! Look at their uniforms.?


There were several dead bodies on the bridge. Smell was not an issue, it hadn?t 
been for thousands of years.

?We?re going to have to get inoculations for any spores we might inhale. Doctor 
Yarl will take care of that.?


The spores she was referring to were what had once been the cause of the famed 
curse of the mummy. These spores, given off by bodies decaying in the absence 
of heat or light, become lodged in the lungs, releasing fatal toxins into their 
host organism. Superstitious beliefs of the people that lived at the time 
brought them to conclude that the tombs were cursed.

?Right.?

?Check and see if we can bring power to some of these consoles. Maybe we can 
access the captain?s logs.?

?Right.?

Seconds later, the bridge lights came on.

?Accessing ship?s logs.?

The screen flickered, fizzled then popped. Needless to say after centuries of 
neglect, it was dysfunctional. 

?How?d you manage to turn the lights back on?? Johnson asked nervously.

?I?uh??

?He didn?t.? A voice informed them from the ready room.

?What?? Denise felt the adrenaline mounting in her veins. The fight or flight 
feelings began to well up inside her. She had never been a brave person, even 
in the best of times, and worse yet, they had no weapons.

?I?m afraid that you two have come a bit too far.? Two men stepped out from the 
shadows, phasers leveled at the two doctors.

?Who? Who are you??

Of course, section thirty-one was not widely known in those days, more of a 
myth than anything else, but the answer still came as an unpleasant if not 
enigmatic shock to Denise.

?We are Starfleet section thirty-one. This ship and everything onboard is now 
the sole property of us.?

Martin had been edging ever so slowly away from the phaser wielding men, but 
his actions had not gone unnoticed.

?I?m afraid that you two have some of our property. We?re going to have to take 
it from you.?

?What? What the hell are you talking about?? Fries asked.

?We did say that this ship and everything onboard was ours, did we not??

?Yes.? Denise answered softly. ?What are you getting at??

?Knowledge my dear doctor, knowledge. That is part of this ship. I really am 
sorry.?

?You won?t get away with this. The people at the sight--Berkley and all of 
them.?

?Oh, I?m afraid that they?re somewhat?well?to put it plainly, that is, they??

The other operative cut in. ?Shut up Greer.? he looked back at the two 
terrified people. ?They?re dead, okay?? He aimed his phaser. ?Goodnight 
doctors.?

 



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