Post by PIC on Aug 18, 2023 8:44:13 GMT -5
PREVIOUSLY…
As they reach the mountain’s crest, Batsal points to a small snowy area at the base of a mountain. There, amid the fresh fog brought on from the rain, is what appears to be nothing more than a pile of dirt and rock. Batsal shouts to Achut.
“There it is. That is what is left of the great pyramid that was lost.”
“It’s so pedestrian,” Stirling says. “Is he sure?”
After a brief back and forth between the two Nepalese men, Achut responds. “He’s sure.”
Stirling turns to his men.
“Boys, there it is! We stand only a few thousand feet away from history. Make no mistake about it, if we are able to secure this relic, Her Majesty will forever be in our debt. For Queen Victoria!”
Then men reply in unison. “Long live the queen!”
On the outside, Captain Francis Stirling appeared to be a stalwart. His stoic demeanor and steady hand had always provided a sense of security to those around him. No matter the situation, his men knew Stirling would always rise to the occasion. What they didn’t know, what they couldn’t know, is Francis Stirling was an out and out coward.
He fell bass ackwards into his first leadership position in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy when his commanding officer was shot and killed during a skirmish off the French Riviera. Instead of chasing down the small frigate responsible, Stirling turned tail and sailed for Britain. The wildly inaccurate and purposefully fraudulent account of his heroics spread throughout the kingdom, and within days he received a commendation of highest order when he was given the Victoria Cross for “valour in combat”.
From that moment on, Stirling was a “made man”. His subordinates worshiped him, the ladies couldn’t say no to him. Yes, by all accounts, Captain Francis Stirling was well on his way to joining the upper echelon of British society.
And so, in the irony of all ironies, Great Britain’s personification of bravery stands terrified at the foot of Everest, moments away from the most historic discovery of all time.
“Williams, Edwards… join me,” Stirling chirps as two of the eight navy men break from their ranks and head toward what’s left of the pyramid.
Batsal, their guide, and Achut, the translator, are in a heated exchange in Nepalese off to the side. Stirling pays them no attention. His gaze is fixated on the ruins. He can’t tell if the sound of his teeth chattering is as loud to others as it is to him, but he can’t control it. There is something ominous about this structure, something otherworldly. He knows they shouldn’t enter, but his future is at stake. If he secures the TRIAD for the crown, he will become the most famous man in the world.
Stirling speaks as the two navy men approach. “Williams, do you see that ice patch on the left of that mound?”
“Yes, sir,” Williams replies. The man, no more than 5’6, is a military man through and through. He stands at attention wearing a heavy animal skin coat over his full uniform.
“I want you and Edwards to take an ax to it. Our guide says the entrance to the pyramid is underneath.”
Williams and Edwards both agree and move on to their assigned task. They make quick work of the ice, and within minutes, Stirling stands above the entrance. He motions for the rest of his men to join him as they look down into the dark expanse beneath them.
“It’s time gentlemen. Let’s go make history.”
Before he can continue, Achut and Batsal join them, still arguing.
“He says he will not go on with us. If we do not turn back now, we are on our own.”
Stirling straightens in the presence of his subordinates. “Let him go. He’s of no use to us now.”
Achut turns to Batsal and says something in Nepalese. Batsal pleads, but eventually gathers his things and begins his ascent on the other side of the mountain. Stirling can almost feel the fear coursing through his veins. He speaks with a slight tremor.
“W..w..Williams will take the lead. Three of you go with him. Once an area is secure, I will enter. Edwards, you bring the other three in behind to secure my flank. We only get one shot at this gentlemen.”
“What about me?” Achut chimes in.
“You stay here as a lookout. Anyone sees us they’ll know something’s up. They see a local and they won’t think much of it.”
Achut nods. Williams and another of his team light torches and are the first to enter. The first bit requires some crawling on their bellies, but they’re soon able to stand a few feet in. Williams surveys the area.
“All clear!” he yells from inside.
Stirling gulps loudly. His face has turned completely white. He looks back at the rest of his men who nod him on. Reluctantly, he takes his first step toward the entrance, crouches down, and begins crawling. The musty smell of thousands of years pours into his nostrils, causing his eyes to water. The light from the torches in front illuminates part of the way, but it quickly begins to flicker. A second later, darkness. Then a scream.
“Ahhhhhhhh!!!”
“What in bloody hell is going on?” Stirling yells out. No response. He feels around in front of him on the hard surface and eventually finds the hand of one of his men. He clasps their palms together and pulls himself out and into the next section. One of the torches lies at his feet, still lit but waning. He picks it up as he dusts himself off. A couple blows on the torch reenergizes the flame and Stirling is once again able to see inside the pyramid.
“Thanks for the hand,” he says, turning to his help. There, he sees Williams pinned to the wall, a single spear sticking out of a gaping wound in his chest. He had been impaled from behind, the spear having been shot out of the wall behind him. His eyes remain wide open, as if staring a hole into the soul of Francis Stirling. Stirling screams.
“Are you ok, sir?” The voice of Edwards from behind him snaps him back to reality.
“Y...y…yes, I’m fine! But Williams is dead!”
Stirling tries to regain his composure. A few moments later Edwards and his team catch up to Stirling. Together, the four men check their surroundings. No sign of the men who entered with Williams.
“Can anybody hear me?” Edwards shouts into the inner area of the ruins. “Hello… hello?”
“We’re here!” comes a reply.
“Jennings? Where the hell did you all go?”
“Didn’t Williams tell you? He sent us on to investigate. You really gotta see this!”
“I...i..is it safe?” questions a cowering Stirling.
“The ground is loose, and there’s a crevass no one’s going to want to get close to. But the room is secure. Hey, where is Williams anyway?”
Stirling puts a finger to his lips. No sense striking fear into the others until absolutely necessary. He motions for one of the four to go in with him. The two step through another makeshift entrance in the rubble, and a moment later are standing inside a large expanse, fully lit by the two torches. The rest of the group joins them as they investigate the area.
“There! Look!” one of the men yells.
Stirling turns, and there in a sunken in piece of the wall sits the most beautiful thing Stirling has ever laid eyes on. The Bravery piece of the TRIAD, there… right in front of his eyes. The man who spotted it takes a step toward the piece just as the ground beneath him gives way. He wails as his body falls through into nothing, his cries getting fainter and fainter until a solid thud ends it all. Chills shoot down Stirling’s spine as one of the other men reaches for his fallen comrade.
“L..l..leave him. His fate has been sealed,” Stirling commands. “Edwards, get the piece.”
Edwards nods. Stirling wonders if any of the men are as scared as he is right now. He can’t let on. He watches as Edwards walks along the wall. His left sleeve catches onto something. Edwards tries to pry himself free, ripping the British Royal Navy patch off his sleeve. He curses, but pushes forward toward the Bravery piece. As he grabs the piece, his footing also begins to give way. Edwards begins falling through the floor but manages to reach up with his free hand to grab onto a rock.
“Edwards!” another of the men cries out. He dives toward Edwards on his belly trying to catch his hand, but overshoots and himself falls into the deep abyss. Stirling looks at the remaining four men and motions for them to help. Stirling circles around on the other side and stands a few feet away from the hole.
“We must secure the TRIAD!” he yells.
Three of the men hold onto the ankles of the fourth who crawls on his belly to Edwards. Edwards reaches the TRIAD piece up to the man, who tosses it to Stirling’s feet. Stirling bends to grab the piece, taking a moment to bask in its beauty. That moment doesn’t last long, however, as the walls of the structure begin to shake. Stirling darts toward the opening, stepping over the man on the ground in the process. This movement causes the three others to lose their grip, sending the man on his stomach and Edwards falling to their deaths. The three others stand shocked as Stirling pushes his way through.
“Move! Now!”
The four men weave their way back through the ruins until finally on the outside. The structure continues to shake and shift until the door is once again covered.
The three remaining seamen stand exhausted, checking on each other. Their gaze turns to the coward sitting on the ground in front of them, holding his arm in the air and demanding to be helped to his feet. The shame of his cowardice turns to rage.
“Do any of you dare stand in judgment of your superior officer?”
The three just hang their heads.
“Need I remind you, the objective was clear. We are here to retrieve THIS! Any casualties are simply that.”
They nod. He motions them on as he scans the surroundings.
“Where the hell is Achut?”
The next few days were some of the darkest of Francis Stirling’s life. Paranoia has set in. He sees an enemy on every corner and every turn. All eyes have turned to him, the current holder of the Bravery piece of the TRIAD. The irony of that statement isn’t lost on him. The piece of an ancient artifact that was forged by one of the bravest men to ever walk this earth now rests in the satchel of a coward.
His introspection is cut short as one of his men startles him.
“Sir, the ship is ready.”
Stirling turns toward the man as we see he’s standing on a dock looking out over the Indian Ocean. He nods to the man, then walks up a ramp and onto the HMS Atalanta where the rest of his crew stands at attention.
“Gentlemen, our mission is a success. Today, we return to England as heroes. We mourn the loss of those who sacrificed to get us here, but we press on in their honor.”
Stirling turns to his first mate.
“Jenkins! Chart a course for Mozambique, then on to the Cape of Good Hope and the Atlantic Ocean beyond!”
“Aye aye, captain!”
As they reach the mountain’s crest, Batsal points to a small snowy area at the base of a mountain. There, amid the fresh fog brought on from the rain, is what appears to be nothing more than a pile of dirt and rock. Batsal shouts to Achut.
“There it is. That is what is left of the great pyramid that was lost.”
“It’s so pedestrian,” Stirling says. “Is he sure?”
After a brief back and forth between the two Nepalese men, Achut responds. “He’s sure.”
Stirling turns to his men.
“Boys, there it is! We stand only a few thousand feet away from history. Make no mistake about it, if we are able to secure this relic, Her Majesty will forever be in our debt. For Queen Victoria!”
Then men reply in unison. “Long live the queen!”
On the outside, Captain Francis Stirling appeared to be a stalwart. His stoic demeanor and steady hand had always provided a sense of security to those around him. No matter the situation, his men knew Stirling would always rise to the occasion. What they didn’t know, what they couldn’t know, is Francis Stirling was an out and out coward.
He fell bass ackwards into his first leadership position in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy when his commanding officer was shot and killed during a skirmish off the French Riviera. Instead of chasing down the small frigate responsible, Stirling turned tail and sailed for Britain. The wildly inaccurate and purposefully fraudulent account of his heroics spread throughout the kingdom, and within days he received a commendation of highest order when he was given the Victoria Cross for “valour in combat”.
From that moment on, Stirling was a “made man”. His subordinates worshiped him, the ladies couldn’t say no to him. Yes, by all accounts, Captain Francis Stirling was well on his way to joining the upper echelon of British society.
And so, in the irony of all ironies, Great Britain’s personification of bravery stands terrified at the foot of Everest, moments away from the most historic discovery of all time.
“Williams, Edwards… join me,” Stirling chirps as two of the eight navy men break from their ranks and head toward what’s left of the pyramid.
Batsal, their guide, and Achut, the translator, are in a heated exchange in Nepalese off to the side. Stirling pays them no attention. His gaze is fixated on the ruins. He can’t tell if the sound of his teeth chattering is as loud to others as it is to him, but he can’t control it. There is something ominous about this structure, something otherworldly. He knows they shouldn’t enter, but his future is at stake. If he secures the TRIAD for the crown, he will become the most famous man in the world.
Stirling speaks as the two navy men approach. “Williams, do you see that ice patch on the left of that mound?”
“Yes, sir,” Williams replies. The man, no more than 5’6, is a military man through and through. He stands at attention wearing a heavy animal skin coat over his full uniform.
“I want you and Edwards to take an ax to it. Our guide says the entrance to the pyramid is underneath.”
Williams and Edwards both agree and move on to their assigned task. They make quick work of the ice, and within minutes, Stirling stands above the entrance. He motions for the rest of his men to join him as they look down into the dark expanse beneath them.
“It’s time gentlemen. Let’s go make history.”
Before he can continue, Achut and Batsal join them, still arguing.
“He says he will not go on with us. If we do not turn back now, we are on our own.”
Stirling straightens in the presence of his subordinates. “Let him go. He’s of no use to us now.”
Achut turns to Batsal and says something in Nepalese. Batsal pleads, but eventually gathers his things and begins his ascent on the other side of the mountain. Stirling can almost feel the fear coursing through his veins. He speaks with a slight tremor.
“W..w..Williams will take the lead. Three of you go with him. Once an area is secure, I will enter. Edwards, you bring the other three in behind to secure my flank. We only get one shot at this gentlemen.”
“What about me?” Achut chimes in.
“You stay here as a lookout. Anyone sees us they’ll know something’s up. They see a local and they won’t think much of it.”
Achut nods. Williams and another of his team light torches and are the first to enter. The first bit requires some crawling on their bellies, but they’re soon able to stand a few feet in. Williams surveys the area.
“All clear!” he yells from inside.
Stirling gulps loudly. His face has turned completely white. He looks back at the rest of his men who nod him on. Reluctantly, he takes his first step toward the entrance, crouches down, and begins crawling. The musty smell of thousands of years pours into his nostrils, causing his eyes to water. The light from the torches in front illuminates part of the way, but it quickly begins to flicker. A second later, darkness. Then a scream.
“Ahhhhhhhh!!!”
“What in bloody hell is going on?” Stirling yells out. No response. He feels around in front of him on the hard surface and eventually finds the hand of one of his men. He clasps their palms together and pulls himself out and into the next section. One of the torches lies at his feet, still lit but waning. He picks it up as he dusts himself off. A couple blows on the torch reenergizes the flame and Stirling is once again able to see inside the pyramid.
“Thanks for the hand,” he says, turning to his help. There, he sees Williams pinned to the wall, a single spear sticking out of a gaping wound in his chest. He had been impaled from behind, the spear having been shot out of the wall behind him. His eyes remain wide open, as if staring a hole into the soul of Francis Stirling. Stirling screams.
“Are you ok, sir?” The voice of Edwards from behind him snaps him back to reality.
“Y...y…yes, I’m fine! But Williams is dead!”
Stirling tries to regain his composure. A few moments later Edwards and his team catch up to Stirling. Together, the four men check their surroundings. No sign of the men who entered with Williams.
“Can anybody hear me?” Edwards shouts into the inner area of the ruins. “Hello… hello?”
“We’re here!” comes a reply.
“Jennings? Where the hell did you all go?”
“Didn’t Williams tell you? He sent us on to investigate. You really gotta see this!”
“I...i..is it safe?” questions a cowering Stirling.
“The ground is loose, and there’s a crevass no one’s going to want to get close to. But the room is secure. Hey, where is Williams anyway?”
Stirling puts a finger to his lips. No sense striking fear into the others until absolutely necessary. He motions for one of the four to go in with him. The two step through another makeshift entrance in the rubble, and a moment later are standing inside a large expanse, fully lit by the two torches. The rest of the group joins them as they investigate the area.
“There! Look!” one of the men yells.
Stirling turns, and there in a sunken in piece of the wall sits the most beautiful thing Stirling has ever laid eyes on. The Bravery piece of the TRIAD, there… right in front of his eyes. The man who spotted it takes a step toward the piece just as the ground beneath him gives way. He wails as his body falls through into nothing, his cries getting fainter and fainter until a solid thud ends it all. Chills shoot down Stirling’s spine as one of the other men reaches for his fallen comrade.
“L..l..leave him. His fate has been sealed,” Stirling commands. “Edwards, get the piece.”
Edwards nods. Stirling wonders if any of the men are as scared as he is right now. He can’t let on. He watches as Edwards walks along the wall. His left sleeve catches onto something. Edwards tries to pry himself free, ripping the British Royal Navy patch off his sleeve. He curses, but pushes forward toward the Bravery piece. As he grabs the piece, his footing also begins to give way. Edwards begins falling through the floor but manages to reach up with his free hand to grab onto a rock.
“Edwards!” another of the men cries out. He dives toward Edwards on his belly trying to catch his hand, but overshoots and himself falls into the deep abyss. Stirling looks at the remaining four men and motions for them to help. Stirling circles around on the other side and stands a few feet away from the hole.
“We must secure the TRIAD!” he yells.
Three of the men hold onto the ankles of the fourth who crawls on his belly to Edwards. Edwards reaches the TRIAD piece up to the man, who tosses it to Stirling’s feet. Stirling bends to grab the piece, taking a moment to bask in its beauty. That moment doesn’t last long, however, as the walls of the structure begin to shake. Stirling darts toward the opening, stepping over the man on the ground in the process. This movement causes the three others to lose their grip, sending the man on his stomach and Edwards falling to their deaths. The three others stand shocked as Stirling pushes his way through.
“Move! Now!”
The four men weave their way back through the ruins until finally on the outside. The structure continues to shake and shift until the door is once again covered.
The three remaining seamen stand exhausted, checking on each other. Their gaze turns to the coward sitting on the ground in front of them, holding his arm in the air and demanding to be helped to his feet. The shame of his cowardice turns to rage.
“Do any of you dare stand in judgment of your superior officer?”
The three just hang their heads.
“Need I remind you, the objective was clear. We are here to retrieve THIS! Any casualties are simply that.”
They nod. He motions them on as he scans the surroundings.
“Where the hell is Achut?”
The next few days were some of the darkest of Francis Stirling’s life. Paranoia has set in. He sees an enemy on every corner and every turn. All eyes have turned to him, the current holder of the Bravery piece of the TRIAD. The irony of that statement isn’t lost on him. The piece of an ancient artifact that was forged by one of the bravest men to ever walk this earth now rests in the satchel of a coward.
His introspection is cut short as one of his men startles him.
“Sir, the ship is ready.”
Stirling turns toward the man as we see he’s standing on a dock looking out over the Indian Ocean. He nods to the man, then walks up a ramp and onto the HMS Atalanta where the rest of his crew stands at attention.
“Gentlemen, our mission is a success. Today, we return to England as heroes. We mourn the loss of those who sacrificed to get us here, but we press on in their honor.”
Stirling turns to his first mate.
“Jenkins! Chart a course for Mozambique, then on to the Cape of Good Hope and the Atlantic Ocean beyond!”
“Aye aye, captain!”