“I need the Ultra-Septvember-G!” the man in the green timesuit called, spraying laser pulses from the high density flashrifle from his waist. “We need to hold back the Omega-Bots for forty seven hundred more microns!”
Explosive delta projectiles splattered on the invisible plasma shield the commando was projecting from his utility combat belt, and he returned fire as someone tossed him a large steel and very phallic-looking object. Immediately, he attached it to the quantum power port on the timesuit, and green ultrabolts lashed the enemy Omega-Bots with heady explosive power.
“Robin! The portal’s closing! Let’s get out of here!” Robin Hood leapt down from the outcropping he occupied, and the Ultra-Septvember-G spurted more death, doom, and dismemberment over the inanimate objects. Backing into the portal, the time commando grunted heavily as the last shot blew apart an Omega-Bot into a thousand sparks of delta-space sparks. The portal closed.
“Good to see you back!” Colonel-General Sir William of Normandy said, as he approached the team that had barely made it back from their near-suicidal mission. “Is the Omicron Particle Reactor destroyed?”
The team’s explosives expert, Staff Sgt. Guy Fawkes, nodded. “Aye, sir, we neutralized it to the sub-atomic state in all seven split dimensions. I even focussed the Omicron Ultraradiation into the Trimirror Universe. We won’t have to worry about any oversized SpudMechs for some time!” Everyone shared a laugh.
“Glad to hear it, son,” General of Normandy said, smacking Fawkes heartily on the back. “Queen Arthur will be pleased as well.” It had been King Arthur until about 2 years ago. Gender reassignment was much easier to obtain nowadays. The various members of the team dispersed after a few more pleasantries, toddling back to their individual rest and recovery designate zones for the next twelve thousand sixty microns.
Robin Hood – Major Robert Huntingdon of Loxley – was the leader of an elite squad of Time Commandos, who’s job it was to travel the depths and waves of the historical time stream and revert alpha-strands to the prime timeline. His team consisted of the finest warriors throughout English history, who existed somewhere between fact and fiction, using their ambiguous nature to ensure their legend never dies – and so they stay alive. He rested until awoken by a sigma-four alarm code at 0711.
Bursting from his recovery zone, Robin Hood immediately turned to the maintenance quaddroid. “What’s the meaning of distrubing my recharge megacycle!” he demanded. The bot couldn’t answer, but a man approached quickly. Vice-Time Admiral Frances Drake approached.
“Hood!” he said. “there’s been two alpha-strands converge into a betawave on the prime timeline in 1066!”
“Damn!” Robin said. He grabbed his combat utility ultrabelt and buckled it in, following Drake along the corridors of the Timebase. “How long until it resolves into the prime timestream?”
“Mr. Turing and Mr. Newton expect that the time re-alignment will be complete in forty-four hundred microns. Assemble your team, Major Hood. We’re go in two hundred seven microns. This is an official sigma-four alarm code – you go in hot, find out who’s caused the betawave, dispatch them, and timeport out.”
“Yes sir.” Hood turned from the Admiral, who strode off to the Command Deck, and grasped his interbase voxcom from his utility strap. “Commando Team Prime-Seven, assemble at the Embarkment Vandeck!”
Each Commando Team had five members. We’ve already been introduced to two. The third member of Hood’s team was the Cultural Interoperative, who’s job it was to reinterpret history for the Commando Team. Sub-Lieutenant Boudicca was also a fierce warrior queen in her own right, and made no bones about her desire to lead the Commando Team someday.
Occupying the post of heavy weapons expert was a tall and broadshouldered man named James Douglas, though everyone on the team called him “Corporal Black” after his historical nickname. An unabashed Scot, he had taken a long time to ease into knowing and trusting his English teammates. But there was no man better with a Mark Seven Blaster Destrocannon.
Rounding out the five man team was the team’s mobile science expert. Another Scot, but a more trusting one, this fellow was able to adapt to any situation. He could use his enhanced neural delta-interface to make any computer respond in almost any situation. This guy was another James, but his name was James Watt – Lieutenant James Watt.
Fawkes entered as well, and Robin stood on the embarkment preplatform. “Folks, we have an official sigma-four alert. Someone has mixed two alpha-streams and caused a betawave in 1066. As you all know, that’s where William the Conqueror…” a cough cut him off. “General The Conqueror became famous. If he dies in the battle, the betawave could alter all history, including our own. We have to succeed.
“We’re going in hot and with full commando op-equip. That means we’ll all carry standard gear – Mark Five-A unibolters and Type IV lanceguns, plus your special gear. Set your physio-containment shields to full, neutranize your anti-plasma and energy dispersal fields. We’ll trust to speed and shock to keep our appearance and weapons from polluting the timeline further. We have…forty one fourteen microns, folks. Get in, locate the betawave origin point, call in the cavalry and we’ll put things right. Any questions?”
The team shook their head. “Good. Sychronize your temporal chronometers on my mark….mark! Fire up the time portation exounit!” The portal unit burst into shimmering green and aquamarine, and the five Time Commandos leapt through.