#need to brush up more on the history/historical boundaries so i can REALLY figure it out and make even more headcanons about him but...

[gu6chan]

I found him you guys

The world's most masculine slovenian

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Star Trek: A Product of the Times

Miniskirts, beehives and bowlcuts, goodness gracious, is there any time that Star Trek could have been made but the 1960s?

The short answer?  Not really.

Star Trek was made at quite an interesting time.  The Civil Rights Movement, the space race, Vietnam, the Cold War, the hippie movement, and the new wave of feminism was all coming in a wave that swept the nation, turning the country on its head and plunging its people into turmoil.  The 1960s were an uncertain time: President John F. Kennedy was assassinated at the beginning of the decade after dealing with the Cuban Missile Crisis, Martin Luthor King Jr. was assassinated near the end, just in time to see the Civil Rights and Voting Act of the mid-’60s come to pass, ensuring equal rights for all.  In 1969, America put a man on the moon, Nixon won the election of 1968, and Woodstock closed out the summer of ‘69 with a bang.

This was the world Star Trek was born into: a world full of hope and fear.

You may be wondering why I’m telling you all this, why this all matters.

The answer is extremely simple: to help contextualize, and therefore understand, Star Trek, we have to understand the 1960s.

See, no piece of media is an island.  Every movie, every book, tv show and song, is a product of people living in the times, therefore, a product of the times itself.  Everything, no matter how much of a ‘classic’, exists as a product of those who created it, people whose thoughts and actions are influenced very heavily by the world they live in, and the culture around them, ‘dating’ them to future viewers.

That’s to be expected.

It makes sense that our culture shapes who we are and what we think, and therefore the kinds of things we create.  This, in and of itself, is far from a problem.  However, it does leave those of us who enjoy older films with a rather interesting question:

How dated is too dated?

Can we as an audience still enjoy a film that is discernibly made in a time before our own?  Is it possible to relate to the content created in a time of different technology, clothes, and, most importantly, a different political and social climate than the one we currently live in?

The fact is, there is nobody and nothing in existence that can stop any piece of media from being ‘dated’ in the sense that, no matter what, whatever is being made will have the impact of the culture it is made in.  It simply can’t be avoided.  Even films set in the future will feature the hairstyles of the decade it was created in, or use the special effects of the time.  This, although sometimes a little odd, does not negatively impact the films that we watch.  These things are mere trimming, the external demonstration of the culture of the times.  We can watch The Breakfast Club or The Terminator and notice the ‘80s clothes, slang, trends and references, but it does not hurt the core essence of the movie.

So what does?

Ideas.

In my opinion, it is not the styles of a film, but the ideas, the themes, how the world is viewed, that dates a film, more than any beehive or mullet ever could.  It is these elements that cause modern viewers to cringe at offensive lines or words, to wince at blatant displays of sexism or prejudice, and sometimes, turn away from older movies forever.

However, ignoring it, and refusing to watch it, doesn’t make anything better.  After all, those who do not study history are doomed to repeat it, and although movies and television aren’t quite history, they’re a picture of it.

Looking at the context in which a film was created can help us figure out why decisions were made, and understand how the culture has changed.  By looking at where we’ve been, we can better appreciate where we are now, and look to where we are going to be.  We can, and indeed, we should look back at older films, and recognize what doesn’t hold up and what is considerably Not Okay, without ignoring what does hold up.

That’s what we’re doing now.  Today, we’re answering the question:

How dated is Star Trek?

Let’s take a look.

To be honest, at first glance, it seems like it is.  Very much so.

Between very on-the-nose storylines facing off against hippies, racism and the Vietnam war, Uhura’s miniskirt, Yeoman Rand’s beehive, and Chekov’s bowl cut, it seems utterly impossible that this show can exist and hold up in a time period past the 1960s.  The special effects are sometimes cheesy, the acting can be hammy, and the moments of ‘progressiveness’ that are so often praised seem rather small.

Uhura was a black woman on the bridge, sure, but she was horrendously underutilized.  Female characters regularly wore skimpy outfits and threw themselves at male members of the crew, serving as props, seducers, innocents, and rarely holding any real power.  The final episode of the series is about an insane woman who swaps bodies with Captain Kirk because she claimed women weren’t allowed to be starship captains.  Evil Kirk’s assault of Janice Rand is brushed off.  The main characters are all white, and every minority character is in a supporting role.

It’s easy to look back from the twenty-first century with uncomfortably raised eyebrows and ask: “This was progress?”

All in all, it seems impossible to modern audiences that this show could possibly be as revolutionary as it is often said to be.  How can this show be a television game changer, the show that inspired so many and so much good?  How can Star Trek be considered so progressive?

Honestly, it’s all dependent on the time.

Looking back, it’s very easy to judge, to turn our backs on a show that is, in a lot of ways, clearly dated.  There’s no saving the reputation of the bowl cuts, the campy acting, or the tinfoil bikinis, but, if you will, allow me to contextualize, not just the show, but the culture as well.

The year is 1966, and Star Trek’s first pilot has failed, accused of being ‘too cerebral’, (among other things) and having a woman as the second in command on the ship.  The new show, considerably retooled with a whole new crew except for a mixed-race half extra-terrestrial, is set to air, and your crew includes two white American men, the aforementioned half alien, a Scotsman, an Asian man, and a black woman, all in positions of authority on a military ship designed for exploration in deep space.

An Asian man with no stereotypically Asian accent, hobbies, or background was the helmsman for the Enterprise.  A black woman was a lieutenant commander, the chief communications officer.  They were positioned in such a way that they were unmissable for viewers, and regularly took part in landing parties and missions.  They were very smart and very capable.

Now, that’s nothing.  Then?

In 1966, that was huge.

While to modern eyes, the show’s claim to progressiveness seemed like the bare minimum, in the time that the show was produced, it was a big deal.  The equality on the bridge of the Enterprise, (unquestioned, undiscussed equality) changed television, and subtly forced viewers to question their own prejudices.  The idea of a perfect future was one with no prejudice, no distinction among humans.

To quote Kirk himself:

“Leave any bigotry in your quarters; there’s no room for it on the bridge.”

On Star Trek, especially in the Federation, everyone was an equal.  No member of the crew was worth more, or treated differently, than any other.  Multiple characters (non male, non white) characters are portrayed as high ranking, deserving of equal respect.  Sure, now it doesn’t look like a big deal, but in the end, that’s a good thing.

It means that times have changed, and that even in the 1960s, people knew they should change.

In the end, Star Trek remains a good look at a utopian future where everyone is deserving of equal respect and care.  Is it perfect?  No.

But it was about as good as we can expect: Fair For Its Day.

To quote the TVTropes definition of this specific phrase:

“Something from the past that seems like a huge load of Values Dissonance. It seems laden with, say, a Rose-Tinted Narrative or a Historical Hero or Villain Upgrade.

Only… it turns out it was comparatively Fair for Its Day. Maybe the Historical Hero Upgrade or Historical Villain Upgrade wasn’t that unfair a reflection on the person’s views. Maybe the Rose-Tinted Narrative just wasn’t rose-tinted enough for its original audience. Maybe it was even ripped apart in its own time for being downright insurrectionist, and was brave to go as far as it did. It might even completely agree with modern attitudes, but not do so Anviliciously enough for today’s audiences.”

Such is Star Trek.

The miniskirts?  A demonstration of freedom and fashion in the late 1960s.  Uhura’s job?  As a black woman in the ‘60s in a position of authority, it was groundbreaking.  A non-stereotyped Asian man and a non-evil Russian?  Unthinkable.  Khan, one of the show’s most memorable and well-loved villains?  Played by Ricardo Montalbán, a Mexican.  Kirk reported to higher-ranking non-white officers.

Does that fix the fact that Janice Rand’s assault was largely brushed off?

No.

But it’s a start.

Star Trek’s legacy is, not in its perfection, but in the fact that it was a product of the times that saw the need for change.  It’s impact, it’s importance lies in its guts to push the boundaries of what was acceptable at the time, to be a product of the times that was looking for a better future.

Yes, times have changed, and Star Trek no longer looks as groundbreaking as it did at the time.  That’s good.  It shouldn’t.  But that does not mean that it loses its importance.

Star Trek remains a titan among game-changers in the history of pop-culture, and rightfully so.  Very few franchises have the scope of influence and inspiration that Star Trek lays claim to having, and in a true test of its values, continued to expand on them and grow and change with the culture with each version, continuing to strive for the best.

All that leads us to our final question.

Is Star Trek dated?

In some ways, yes.  Some of those stories could only have been created in the 1960s.  Some interactions were only possible in a bygone era.

In others?

Star Trek’s general concept, and indeed, a lot of its execution, actually does hold up very well.  The stories are often just as interesting and compelling as they were when they were first released, and the characters remain as gripping and entertaining, over fifty years later.  In terms of storytelling and characters, for the most part, Star Trek is not dated.

After all, the idea of equality, and a better future, is never dated.

Yes, Star Trek is a product of its times.  Very much so.  However, that fact makes the series no less enjoyable.  It was influenced by its culture and its times just as much as it would go on to influence, and even today, it still casts a long shadow on television, and the culture at large. Star Trek stands the test of time, serving as a reminder of times past, while at the same time looking to the future.

In 1966, Star Trek was a visionary concept that ended up changing the world.  Just because we’ve seen progress since then doesn’t take away any of its punch, it just shows us that it was on the right track.

Fifty years later, Star Trek is still boldly going, and it will continue to do so as long as people still look for a better, brighter future.

Thanks so much for reading!  Don’t forget to use that ask box if you have your own ideas or thoughts that you’d like to share.  I hope to see you in the next article.

[fate-ad2021]

20. “Grand Theft Cauldron”

Session 20, June 4, 2017

Word count:  4,467

In-Game Dates: Friday, June 18, 2021 and Saturday, June 19th, 2021

In which the group plans and executes a break-in, and everything goes surprisingly well.

I. Morning Ritual Interrupted

Friday morning starts much as the rest of the week has:  the lazy quiet broken only by Val’s caffeinated chatter. This morning, Saber joins the others in the living room; his arm is back to normal, although he reports that his energy level will probably never quite recover from the near-brush with the death seal.  Everyone else talks strategy as they try to motivate themselves for either breakfast or more coffee.  The only one missing from the group is Caster, who has spent most of the night in his workshop as usual.

Just as Siobhan and Jim are making their way toward the kitchen to start breakfast, Dimitri barrels into the living room.  The two Masters pull up short at the wild-eyed look on his face.

“We have a problem!” the translator announces.

“Is this DEFCON Five?  Or DEFCON One?”  Val asks. The rest of the room starts blankly at him.  Val huffs. “You’re American, right?  DEFCON One is the really bad one?”

Dimitri nods slowly, clearly surprised to hear the reference in Val’s Italian accented voice.

Jim shakes his head.  “Whatever that means… Did we lose the data?”

“No,” France replies, although the strain in his voice does nothing to alleviate the group’s worry.  He emerges from the hallway behind Dimitri, carrying the laptop.  “There’s a deadline.”

A beat of silence, then everyone is talking at once.  What does he mean, a deadline?  Did they pass it already?  The Servants surely would know, wouldn’t they?  Would they die?  What sort of deadline?

Dimitri holds up his hands for silence, and when it is mostly granted, he tries to explain.  Vasilyevich built in something like a magical dead-man’s switch:  regardless of the amount of energy in the Grail, regardless of the number of Servants left, it is set to go off after a certain amount of time, no matter what.  It will simply use whatever power it has to melt down.

“So when is it?” Jim asks.

“The full moon,” Dimitri replies.

Assassin tips her head back and groans.  “The summer solstice.  Of course.”

“When is that?” Val asks, already pulling out his phone to find the answer.

“Monday.”

“Great,” Jim says morosely, shaking his head, “we have three days to disarm it or we’re all screwed.”

“I’m calling Orsino,” Val announces.

The group agrees, so Val takes a seat in the living room as Jim and Siobhan somberly return to making breakfast and Assassin and Lancer peer over France’s shoulder for a more thorough explanation of the dead-man’s switch.

When Orsino picks up the phone, his greeting is more tepid than usual.  “I’m afraid I have no news for you, Valentin. I remain unable to get an audience with the people I need to speak with in order to get your Servants inside.”

“Well, padre, I’ve got great news for you,” Val chirps, “and by great news, I mean we’re fucked.”

Silence on the other end, then Orsino can be heard audibly gulping something down.  “Rider anticipated that I would need coffee for this.  Go ahead.”

Val explains the deadline the best that he can, with a few details passed along from the Servants as he goes.  “So yeah, in short, if we don’t kill that thing by Monday, everything goes kaboom.”

Orsino hums in agreement.  “We would be a little bit fucked, wouldn’t we?”

“Like I said,” Val agrees.  “We have a plan, but it hinges on getting our Servants inside that boundary field.  I know you said you haven’t gotten anything yet…”

“Perhaps you can explain a little more about what you plan to do,” Orsino requests.  “If I have more details, my request might sound a little more believable.”

In the absence of his own Servant, Val motions Assassin to take over the call. She does, and explains that their plan involves swapping something that it conceptually and magically similar to the Grail into the place of the real thing, and then removing the actual Grail from the center of power to try and get it away before it explodes.

“If we do it right,” she glances at Lancer, and at Caster, who has just emerged from his workshop, “then it will not explode at all.”

Orsino thinks for a moment, then replies, “I may have some ideas about where to find a similar item such as you described, although you will probably need to retrieve it yourselves.  Give me a few hours, and let me get back to you.  Oh, and, is that other Servant there?  Valentin’s, I mean?”

Caster pipes up, “I am.”

There is a smile in Orsino’s voice as he says, “I’ll leave it to you to explain this plan to Rider.  You seem to enjoy a good jest.”

Caster laughs.  “Sounds good to me.”

II. The Waiting Game

After breakfast, the group splits up to pass the time until Orsino calls them back.

Jim sits down to research Voidcalling.  His experience in studying for the Clock Tower entrance exams is helpful in this regard:  he has learned to track down sources and read between the lines, but most of all, he is persistent.

Over the next several hours, he learns that “Void creatures” are what most people classify as “demons”:  the cloaked shadow creatures seem to be common foot-soldiers, and they seem to come in a variety of strengths.  Recalling how easily the group defeated those enemies the last time they faced them, Jim figures that although Emil probably underestimated the group’s strength, that does not mean he cannot send something significantly more powerful.

Other Void creatures include things like frogs made of elemental fire:  they can inflict a burning rot on anyone they touch, and they use the fires they set to spawn more of their number.  The category also includes a variety of other “elementals”.

In all this research, Jim is struck by the realization that fae are nowhere on any list of Void-associated creatures.  As he considers this, he recalls that Reines herself is also a summoner. Further inquiry into summoning traditions suggests that families of summoners tend to have hereditary contracts or connections with summoned beings; he wagers that it is likely due to family history that Emil could summon the Faery that Caster fought.

Meanwhile, Val has convinced Saber to help teach him something about sword-fighting.

“Come on!  I only know stage-fighting; I don’t want to just be swinging a tree-branch around wildly!”

It is not until Caster points out that others can get a good bout of entertainment from the scene that Saber finally assents.  Caster employs Lancer’s help to whip up a spell of unnoticeability around the too-small backyard, and for the next several hours, Saber uses Val as a practice dummy for getting his own sword arm back.  He does manage to give Val a few pointers, particularly on defense, but most of the time is spent entertaining their audience.  Val does not mind.

Inside the house, seated next to Jim on the couch, Assassin once again goes over the plans that they formulated for removing the Cauldron from the Grail system. The first step will be to drain off the excess power that it has charged up; they can then swap the real Cauldron out of the leylines and put a fake Grail in its place to prevent backlash. After that, all that is left is to activate the magic circle to dissociate the Cauldron from the ritual.

There is only so much she can do off-site, but she does what she can:  to make the switch work, the replacement must be conceptually and magically convincing.  Assassin spends the next few hours mentally reconstructing what the Cauldron of Rebirth would look like physically, but more importantly than that, she focuses on building a template of its magical footprint.  With Siobhan’s help, she works out several inherent properties and the general feeling of its aura.  By the time Val comes back inside with the phone call from Orsino, Assassin is confident in her ability to impart the presswork onto their replacement Grail item.

III. Forming a Plan

It is around lunchtime when Orsino calls back.  Val returns from his “training” and motions for everyone to gather around.  Once on speaker, Orsino explains his findings:

Southwest of the Colosseum stands the large Palatine Hill, the centermost of Rome’s Seven Hills.  This is where the ancient Roman upper crust built their homes – massive palaces, the ruins of which can still be seen scattered across the hill.  Set somewhere in the middle of the hill, built on the foundation of one of those palaces, is a small historical and cultural museum called “Museo Palatino” – Palatine Museum.  Contained within, Orsino says, are many ancient artifacts excavated from the hill over the centuries.

“They date from the correct era,” he explains to the increasingly excited group, “so it will probably be a good place to find a cauldron-like object.  I have no doubt that they will have several artifacts that will meet your requirements.”

“Thanks, Orsino,” Assassin replies warmly.  “You are a lifesaver.”

“Think nothing of it,” he responds, “and I will keep trying to make progress on getting you in.  Good luck!”

No sooner have they hung up than Siobhan and Lancer are heading toward the door.

“We’ll go scout,” Siobhan explains, “while they’re still open to tourists. We’ll let you know what we find, and we can break in after dark!”

When they return a few hours later, they report on their findings.  With a plan formulated, the only thing left to do is wait until dark.  Caster holes himself up in his workshop to construct his newest identity, while the others go about things that involve considerably less effort.

Day passes into evening and evening into night.  When Caster finally emerges, he is wearing a full suit of matte silver armor. Val pokes it; it crinkles.

“Is that… papier-mâché?”

Caster huffs.  “Quiet, Sancho.  Now come! Let us venture forth, righting old wrongs and reclaiming lost artifacts!”  He brandishes a cardboard sword and marches toward the door.

Lancer and Siobhan watch him with identically tilted heads.  Siobhan turns to Jim.  “D’you have any idea who he is this time?”

Jim shrugs.  “If I had to guess, I’d say a piñata.”

IV. On the Approach

The group heads off to the museum at around 11PM.  Most of them are along for the adventure; Siobhan is staying behind with the hackers to hold down the fort in case anything goes wrong.  Jim and Val are in their own forms, visible but trying to stay out of sight.  The Servants are all incorporeal.

Several hours after closing, museum grounds are pretty much deserted.  The hill is covered in old ruins, some of the upper-crust’s palatial homes and baths, others of old temples and shrines to the gods.  Approaching cautiously and quietly, the group can see why Orsino thought this a likely location to find a suitable artifact.

As the doors come into sight, Archer pings Jim.  “I’m going to find a perch,” he murmurs, “Up on one of those tall ruins should do fine.  Yell if you need me, and I’ll yell if anything looks suspicious.”

The Masters find a hiding spot behind some rubble and observe for a few moments.  The front entrance has a keypad to open it and a single guard; after a few minutes, he taps out a code on the keypad and enters the museum, replaced by a different guard.  A third marches past on patrol.  Val curses under his breath; security here seems a little tighter than they expected, and these guards do not appear to be easily distracted.

Caster and Assassin prowl around the building, searching for another entrance. There is one:  a service entrance in the back, protected by another guard, a keypad, and a camera.  Caster relays this to Val, grumbling.  Assassin locates a power box on the outside of the building; she relays to Jim that they could use it to cut power for a time if they need to confuse physical and electronic security with a sudden outage.  However, she advises that they save that as a last resort option; doing that will almost certainly alert the guards to a problem.

They convene back at the ruins where their Masters are hidden and discuss options. Assassin rejects the suggestion of using the Mists to create foggy terrain, but Caster points out that he can do that just as well.  They agree that obscuring the guards’ vision is the best first step, so Caster makes his move, summoning an illusory thick fog to slowly cover the area immediately around the museum.  He then slips incorporeal through the door so he can let them in from the other side.

Jim strikes next.  Using the fog as cover, he sneaks up behind the guard at the door.  He clasps his hands together and, using his height and strength to his advantage, he clubs the guard over the head.  The man goes down like a sack of potatoes; Jim catches him before he hits the ground and drags him backwards into the fog.

After stowing the unconscious guard between some rocks, Val and Jim approach the front door and tap until Caster opens it.  Together, the two Masters plus Assassin slip into the museum.  Lancer and Saber station themselves outside, in view of the back door just in case.

V. Night at the Museum

While scouting earlier that day, Lancer had identified four candidates for decoy artifacts; now, she guides the group to each of them using Saber’s connection to Val as a transmission point.

The first artifact is not far from the entrance.  The group sneaks down the hall, past two enormous statues and a table describing ancient painting tools, until they come to the first corner.  The object in question is a cracked vase in a glass box.  The sign explains its origin in 12th century Rome.  Assassin frowns.  She could use it, she thinks, but it would take a lot of effort to ensure that it would hold together through the ritual.  She catches Jim’s eye, shakes her head, and moves along.

Slightly further down the hallway is a door.  Following instructions from Lancer, they rattle the handle to enter, but it is locked.  Jim drops to one knee and pulls a ring of picks from his pocket.  At Val’s curious glance, he shrugs and whispers, “You grow up in the slums, you learn how to do these things.”

The door swings open to a suite of rooms filled with antique household equipment. They step inside but pause at the sound of footsteps coming from another room in the suite.  The Masters duck into the shadows as Assassin slips ahead to check it out.

Two rooms beyond where they entered, she finds a guard checking his cell phone, humming quietly to himself.  She silently materializes behind him and, imitating Jim, clubs him over the head with clasped hands.  Unfortunately, although she is a Servant, she lacks her Master’s size and strength; instead of being knocked out immediately, the man just wobbles and emits a confused noise.  His daze lasts long enough for Jim to turn the corner and clock him properly. Assassin shrugs apologetically as Jim just rolls his eyes.

As the two Masters rifle through the guard’s pockets for his keys and muscle him underneath a table, Assassin begins to look for the next artifact.  As she approaches the table that Lancer described, movement catches her eye, and she turns.  Nothing.  Only two stone statues, standing watch over the room where she found the guard.

Noticing her confusion, the others move to investigate.  Jim examines the stonework on the statues and points something out to Caster:  one of the two is aged and crumbling, while the other looks quite well-preserved.

“Keep an eye on this one,” Caster advises through the ridiculous papier-mâché bucket helmet.  “It might be going places.”

The second artifact is a well-preserved cooking pot, forged of bronze and covered in elaborate carvings.  Assassin can tell immediately that it is in much better condition than the chipped vase.  She relays this to the rest of the group, and they decide to keep it in mind but to locate the other two options just in case.

The door on the other side of the suite is still open from when the guard entered.  Unfortunately, their luck ends there:  a grid of lasers bars the way down the hall.  Caster sees them first and waves for the group to go back the way they came.  They exit back into the first hallway and lock the door behind them using the guard’s keys.

VI. The Golden Helmet of Mambrino

A little further down the hall is another door, also closed.  Caster takes point this time, dropping his physical form to slip through the door incorporeal to investigate.

In the center of the large room stands a large glass case, which houses a pristine gold-plated bowl with a wide rim and a single handle on the side.  The sign reads “Imperial Chamberpot:  Used by Emperor Nero, and remarkably well-preserved.”

The part of Caster’s mind that is still Merlin recognizes it as a powerful artifact.

The part governed by Don Quixote decides that it must be a helmet, mislabeled and displayed upside down.

He steps back into the hallway and reclaims corporeality with a flourish, declaring, “The Golden Helmet of Mambrino has been rediscovered!  Quickly, open the door, that we might reclaim it!”

Assassin slips through to investigate while Jim uses the guard’s keys to unlock the door.  “Huh,” she grunts as they enter.

“What is it?”  The Masters ask, approaching to read the sign over her shoulder.

“Probably not actually the Imperial Chamberpot, unless Nero was in the habit of using enchanted artifacts to carry his waste.  Which is… not something I want to consider right now.  At any rate, this will do well for our purposes.”

Val examines the case closely, humming in thought.  “It’s on a pressure sensor, and the glass case is held down magnetically…”

“… But if we cut the power, the magnets and any alarms would disengage,” Jim continues, “but chances are, there’s a backup generator somewhere, and we’d have to do something about that sensor.”

“Fear not!”  Caster exclaims.  “I have a solution!”

He removes his helmet, revealing the face of an elderly Spanish man.  Val claps his hands in delight and recognition. Caster hefts his papier-mache helmet in his hands, frowns at the lack of weight, and sets about collecting silverware from around the room to make up the difference.

The plan is set:  one of the Servants stationed outside can kill the power, Jim can lift the glass, and Caster will perform the helmet swap.

“Hey Saber,” Val calls, speaking aloud as well as mentally calling his other Servant, “Do you want to do something illegal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“See that box on the side of the building?  I need you to cut the power.  Can you do that?”

“…That’s not as bad as I was expecting.  There is still a guard patrolling… Lancer?  You’re better at sneaking around than I am. Would you…?”

“Tell her not to kill him!”

Through their connection, Val hears Lancer make an offended noise before slipping away to knock the guard out.  A moment later, Saber asks, “Are you ready?”

Val passes the question to the group, then replies to Saber, “Ok, go!”

The few lights that can be seen go out, leaving the group with only their flashlights as illumination.  “There is a timer here… it says you have 60 seconds until the backup generation kicks in.  56… 55…”

“Alright, alright,” Val mutters as everyone flies into motion, “you don’t have to provide a countdown.  Go, team, go!”

The plan goes off without a hitch:  Jim hoists the glass up long enough for Caster to grab the chamberpot and swap in the loaded helmet.  After ensuring that the weight is correct, Caster dons the pot like a helmet as Jim carefully replaces the case.

When he turns around, he is surprised to see Caster mounted on an old nag of a pony.  Val gasps dramatically, a look of hopeful wonder on his face.  “Can I be on a donkey?”

Caster sighs just as theatrically, but with a wave of his hand summons a bedraggled burro for his excitable Master. Val springs onto the back of the beast as affectionately pats its neck.  “Ah, mounted on the ass of my dreams, at last!”

Assassin and Jim groan loudly as they follow the mounted pair into the hallway to make their escape.

This part of the plan, however, does not go as smoothly as they would like.  The moment they step back into the hallway, loud banging can be heard from the other side of the door they had locked earlier. Whatever stands on the other side clearly cannot get through, but the scrape of stone-on-stone from the other end of the hall catches their attention.

The beam of Jim’s flashlight reveals a statue displaced:  one of the guardians from the front door has moved itself to block their path.  With another stone scraping sound, it plants tis feet and lowers its bronze spear to point at the group.

“Fear not!”  Caster declares again.  Summoned lance in hand, he kicks his nag into a sad attempt at a gallop.  “I shall handle this beast!”

“At least it isn’t a windmill…” Jim mutters as Val summons a tree branch and follows his Servant down the hall.

The blows glance off the magically hardened stone.  The statue takes its own swing at Caster and looks as surprised as a hunk of rock can be when the Servant blocks its strike.  After a few seconds of watching the exchange, Assassin decides to mind the countdown that Saber had provided.

She sighs, calls out, “Duck!” and flings a dagger.  It sails past the battling pair and embeds into the eye of their opponent.

The statue’s remaining eye blinks slowly.  Its free hand reaches toward the hilt of the dagger, already dissolving into magic… and with a final creak, it falls.

“Be ready for a fight from the other one,” Assassin reminds them as she sweeps past.

Blessedly, the other statue at the door turns out to be completely immobile. Val pokes it with his stick just in case before rushing out the door to follow the rest of the group.  They meet up with the other three Servants far enough away from the building to be out of sight of any security responders.  The outside team has some questions, particularly about the brief battle and why on earth Caster is wearing a chamberpot on his head.  Assassin assures them – with a poisonous glare at Caster – that he will return it in time for the ritual.

Safe and sound back home, the away team answers another round of questions before the Masters settle in for the night and the Servants set to work with some final preparations.

VII. Good News and Bad Ideas

Saturday morning starts off with a phone call from Reines, straight to Jim this time instead of through Val as usual.

“So you wanted to bypass the bullshit?” Jim asks as he answers.  “Good morning, Reines.”

“Good morning, Jim,” she replies, “and yes, I did.  I also wanted to thank you for tipping Granny off about Rhongomyniad.”

“Oh?”

“I spoke with her last night regarding the connection between it and the Lance of Longinus – the spear that pierced Jesus on the cross.  The Lance is a sacred artifact to Christianity, and I’d heard rumors that the Church had secured it, or a part of it.”

“Did you find it?”

“Perhaps,” she sighs, sounding more uncertain than hedging.  “There are many possible locations where it could be held, but… The Vatican itself is one of the more commonly cited ones.  It took pulling some strings, but I finally got the closest thing they’ll give me to a confirmation of its whereabouts:  the Basilica of Saint Peter, where the Pope delivers public addresses.”

“That’s right next to Saint Peter’s Square,” Jim realizes aloud.  “Where all the leylines meet.”

“Possibly, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“We’ve determined that that’s the most likely location of the Grail,” Jim explains.

Reines hums.  “If the Lance is nearby and you have someone who can make use of it – perhaps Rider, whoever he is, or Lancer – then perhaps it will do you some good.  Do you have a plan yet?”

Jim fills her in quickly on the task at hand:  drain the energy, disconnect the Grail from the leylines, shove in a replacement, disarm the destructive device.  He also fills her in on the knowledge about the deadline.

“The only trouble is getting our Servants inside,” he explains.  “We haven’t had any luck with that so far; Orsino can’t authorize it, and Rider is the only Servant who can move freely inside the Vatican, but he doesn’t have the magical aptitude to pull this off. We’re stuck.  If we can’t get into the Vatican by Monday, there’s going to be a whole lot of earth-shattering kaboom.”

“Alright, alright,” she sighs again.  “Let me think…  Is Val’s Servant there?”

Jim motions for Caster to come over and puts the phone on speaker.  “Yeah.”

“Could you tell me again the condition of the warehouse, where you suspected that Rhongomyniad had been used?”

Caster thinks for a long moment before replying, “After a hit from the weapon, magic was largely purged from the area, and became difficult to perform there.  The cage of mana that I had created was destroyed, and the foul beast kept within had been banished.”

“And what of the boundary field that you put up?”

“It was…” Caster stops, blinking rapidly as Reines’s plan begins to dawn on him. “It was gone.”

“Do you have anything in your arsenal that can take out a boundary field?”

“I do not.”

“From your exchanges with Val,” Reines says lightly, “you seem to be quite good at goading people.  If you have nothing that can break a boundary field, and your opponent does…”

Caster sighs.  “I take your meaning and will consider your suggestion.”

“That’s all I ask.  Meanwhile, I’ll see what I can do about getting you other options.  Take care.”

Once she has hung up, the others turn to stare at Caster.  He shakes his head sharply.  “I could, in theory, goad the Black Knight into using Rhongomyniad against the Vatican’s boundary field.  I don’t relish the idea of putting myself in the path of a magic-busting weapon, but it is an option.”

“Do we tell Val?” Jim asks.

“No!”