Traveller Probo

Unlike the intimate passing out ceremony for Saxon Traveller, the Byzantium Traveller ceremony was to be a lavish, State affair.

Held at their training facility at Ilidag, the grounds and facilities were spruced, trees were pruned and every desiccated remnant of what might have been gardens was replaced with fresh, new flowers. There were trucks with staging, chairs and sound equipment to rival a concert. Their humble home was soon unrecognisable. Chuck gazed around with raised eyebrows, “Fuck me! Look at this place. We’re all done up like a King’s Cross tart!”

Osborne smiled wearily, “Yeah mate, the price of fame.”

Hami pointed with his chin to the north where the nearby rugged hills loomed protectively. “Looks like some of our guests are on their way already.”

Four choppers rapidly bore down on the facility. As the Traveller training and preparation raced to completion, the base had been steadily expanded and more troops added to the garrison. Following the violence directed at McAlister and Erol, the Turkish military had become obsessively security conscious. There had been talk of a public backlash, not only against their Traveller project but all Traveller projects. More radical imams had been preaching against Traveller projects, while in the United States the criticism was led by fundamentalist Christians. So many seemed to disapprove of knowledge the missions threatened to uncover. The two assailants had been removed from their hospital beds by Turkish military intelligence and were being questioned. One was lucky to be alive and a couple of days passed before he was even conscious. Osborne knew what such questioning would entail but that was not his concern. There was now a fear that the Traveller project could be a target for terrorists who wanted to make a global statement by blowing up a project so important to the Turkish government. All that mattered now was that his troops were safe and the mission was to proceed as planned.

The Travellers might be heroes but no longer would they be so publicly accessible.

Two Eurocopter Cougars, flanked by T129 attack helicopters, hugged the hills at attack speed before they arrived at their landing pad. One, Osborne noted, was obviously flown by Captain Kartal who landed briskly. Since her horse-riding experience, she had been surprisingly cooperative, even pleasant. There had been some talk of another riding day but Osborne’s schedule prevented such an eventuality. The Princess Prudence nickname had gradually become a memory and the team now functioned better than ever.

A squad of twenty of the Hakkari Mountain Commando Brigade emerged from the choppers. They were to be additional security under the command of Colonel Babacan. Having inspected the base a few days previously, they knew what had to be done. As he casually wandered up to Osborne, Colonel Babacan saluted and smiled. “We have to be more than careful Captain. When we have the Reis-I Cumhur to consider, we cannot be too careful. Our President and the accompanying ministers will be a target that some might find too tempting.”

Osborne nodded, aware of the extensive security operations that were taking place around him. The soldiers saluted and Colonel Babacan gave a nod as he turned to his duties. The international Traveller community had received a nasty fright and security was now a priority.

The base was a hive of activity. Portable kitchen faculties, giant vision screens and red and gold decor abounded. Osborne had no choice but to let the powers-that-be have their day. The Travellers were allotted a rest-day, though their role was central to the celebrations that would take place that evening.

An event manager approached to discuss details on his team’s roles. Osborne recognised the importance of public relations for each Traveller project though he detested pomp and ceremony and wished he had no part in it. As the organiser hurried off, she spoke hurriedly into a head-mounted microphone, leaving Osborne to shrug his shoulders in resignation.

***

Professor Taylor and the Turkish Government had worked hard to make sure the Byzantium Traveller launch was a public relations tour de force. All recognised how important it was to establish the Traveller missions as strong, viable research projects that would make valuable contributions to humanity’s knowledge while building national pride. As Presidential aids ran around organising the final minutiae, the military entrenched themselves into positions that would make hostile attack well-nigh impossible. A podium was erected and Turkish flags draped from every available flagpole while a huge Turkish flag and portrait of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, first president of Turkey and founder of the modern republic, were slung to frame and backdrop giant LED screens.

Arriving dignitaries included officials from Woomera Technologies and Helguard Security. There were rumours that they had made significant progress to building another Transporter and Professor Taylor would have given anything to corner one or more of them to determine how true those rumours might be. Zak Chandler assisted his very pregnant wife, Mel from the chopper and they greeted him with a smile. Peter Conti was seen with senior politicians and military from the United States, UK and Turkey. This was to be a glittering ceremony that would be broadcast globally. As he watched, a sizable Turkish military band, dressed in traditional uniforms, assembled and prepared their instruments. The Turkish Government was doing everything it could to ensure the event was a success.

Music blared and dignitaries gathered. This would be a gathering of world leaders, scientists, and politicians intent on their own Traveller projects. As all rubbed shoulders with members of Historical Research International and the owners of the Transporter there would be incessant lobbying, schmoosing, and currying for favour. Professor Taylor had already met with fellow members Historical Research International to establish a stronger set of guidelines, for he was concerned about their lack of impartiality. They had barely avoided a public relations nightmare regarding the Russian attempt to take over the Ukrainian project. If the media had caught wind of that, it would have been devastating.

Hami called out to Professor Taylor and waved for him to join the team. Like the rest of the Travellers, Hami was dressed in the usual light-woollen tunic, breeches and home-crafted leather boots. Parker stood anxiously and Poxon joked while McAlister idly removed his seax and tested the blade with his thumb before returning it to its leather sheath. Music swelled and the guests were seated as brisk military tunes swelled with clapping and cries of excitement. Now the local Travellers were to be presented to their Government, President, parents and indeed the world as Travellers and their nerves betrayed them.

At the Turkish National Anthem, all clambered to their feet. Chuck and Osborne were still nowhere to be seen.

The ceremony began with Professor Askar as Master of Ceremonies while various members of the military and government spoke. There was then a glorified video presentation of the Travellers, their training and the Byzantine Empire they were destined to visit. Then, one by one the men were called forth to be presented to the nation and the world. There were roars of applause, especially for the Turks. Professor Taylor then stepped forward and, under the glare of lights, joined the others. In the applause he saw his colleague, Professor Askar, cheer him on. But Professor Taylor realised that Osborne still had not been seen. When he whispered an enquiry to Chuck, who had finally appeared, the only reply was, “No worries Professor, he’ll be here soon enough.”

Professor Askar was giving an abbreviated summary of the training programme and then described how Captain Osborne had designed a training format that would make Byzantium Traveller a success. His history and injuries from Saxon Traveller were described and a thunderous musical introduction saw spotlights to a curtained area where a fully armoured Byzantine cavalryman emerged. Turks saw, in the horseman, a representation of their ancestors. Clad in lamellar armour of metal plates sewed to leather, a pointed helm with nose-guard, shin and armguards, the rider also wore the scarlet cloak of a Roman commander. As pinpoints of light glittered and the beautiful horse approached, the horseman raised a roar of patriotic pride. A scarf covered the lower part of his face to leave piecing grey eyes that stared boldly. An aid ran to hold the horse steady as the rider alighted and, with a swirl of his cloak, he strode boldly to the podium to bow and present a scroll to the nation’s President. With a parting bow the majestic cavalryman strode to join the Travellers where he removed his scarf to reveal Osborne’s scowling visage.

“Nice job!” muttered Chuck.

“Fuck off!” was the retort. “I feel like a bloody idiot!”

The design of his armour and the quilted clothing were of a Byzantine cavalry officer of high rank. Despite his obvious embarrassment, Osborne looked every inch the officer and Taylor felt even more pride in the moment they shared.

The Turkish President gave a welcoming speech and then referred to the scroll to call each of the Traveller team forward by name where they were presented with their sword. As practiced, each unsheathed their weapon to hold it aloft where the razor-sharp blade glittered in the spotlights. Professor Taylor received his short-sword, and the trainers were also included. Last of all, when Osborne strode forward and held his sword aloft with a cry, the crowd screamed with patriotic zeal.

A few rows back from the front of the cheering mass, Professor Taylor noticed the undeniably pretty face of their contentious helicopter pilot, Captain Nuray Kartal. Beautifully dressed, she was as unrecognisable as she was stunning. It was immediately apparent that the direction of her adoring gaze was upon their impressively clad commander, Captain Osborne.

In this, their moment of glory, Professor Taylor realised with a jolt of amusement that the big Australian was completely oblivious to Kartal’s admiration.

Traveller Probo

Part 2