Friday, August 9, 2013

A comparative study of difficulty levels in Jamestown

Jamestown is a Shoot-em up based on the premise that the Spaniards and the British are fighting over Mars using all manner of Schizotech in the early 17th century. I will examine the difference between Normal, Divine, and Judgement difficulty levels. I will be skipping Difficult and Legendary which lie between Normal and Divine.

Normal:

Nothing really shoots at you much. Bear in mind that this is the first level:


Even the heavier stuff isn't very active:


Divine gets a bit harder:


The little walker guys now shoot stuff.


and now we come to Judgement:


This is where things start to get hectic as everything that can shoot...will shoot.


And, just for fun, the green shots will go straight through your vaunt shields.


And there you have it, the general differences in output and firing patterns across 3 of the 5 difficulties of Jamestown. I hope this proves useful. Show those Spaniards who's boss.






Wednesday, May 15, 2013

My Star Trek Fan Fiction Experiment

In 2006, I discovered a Star Trek fan series known as "Hidden Frontier". It inspired me to write the follow story and place it on their forums. I recently found myself back there after a number of years away looking around and saw it again. Here it is as it was originally published on that site:

Star Trek: Boldly as We Go

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons living, dead, or imagined is purely coincidental. Star Trek and all related concepts are the property of Paramount Pictures Inc. No challenge to their status is intended in any way. This is merely a story by a fan. All characters aside from those in the Canon and those in Hidden Frontier continuity are of my own design, I would appreciate an ask if you intend to use them in anything of your own.

Rating: Most likely PG-13 but it may end up as PG.

Summary: What are you? Lazy? Read my story and find out.

Feedback: Between my posts is just fine. If a running discussion ensues I will see about getting a new thread.

Distribution: This is an HF exclusive until I say otherwise.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Graduation Day

Stardate: 67458.6
Year: May 30th, 2390
Location: San Francisco, Earth, Sol, Sector 001

Captain Eomdrothi Fidekari trudged dejectedly through the streets of San Francisco. He headed to a small, out of the way bar in the Mission District. It was a seedy little place, something you would not expect to find on Earth. The foggy swirled around him as he stood silently, glaring at the gauchely lit entrance sign. He sighed, resigning himself to a fate not fit for a Starfleet officer. He intended to drink himself into oblivion. He sat down at the bar and brusquely asked the Ferengi bartender for a Saurian brandy . The bartender obliged and eagerly took the slips of latinum the Captain offered; it was not often that someone paid him with latinum.

“What has my life been?” the Captain pondered silently. “15 years I have taught here, 15 years of wasted breath.”

He took a swing of his brandy and slipped into despair.


A pair of humanoids in Starfleet uniforms moved through the streets nearby. The taller of the them, stood easily over two meters; keen eyes staring from her bestially featured face, framed with a neatly kept, jet black hair. She walked with a measured stride, the gold of her uniform neatly complimenting her tan skin. Her companion was her opposite in nearly every respect. Nazur moved with a more waddling gait and at a faster pace, trying her best to keep up with her friend. The Evora were not built to be predators like the Nausicaans. They were not meant to move quickly or to kill. They spent their time peacefully munching on flowers, carrying on in a slow, dignified way. Nazur, however, was not typical of her people. Her small, calm exterior masked an intense focus and enough courage to challenge any Klingon to match her resolve. Her companion, on the other hand, had started out as a typical Nausicaan, if a rather smart one. Coarse, brusque and unbelievably violent, she had been everything the Nausicaans were said to be, however, she was brilliant. A childhood spent on board a diverse melting pot of a starbase on the Tholian border had sharpened her wits and a generous commander had seen something in her that she had never realized. He convinced her to attend the academy, convinced that it would give her the discipline and civility she so desperately needed, while expanding her horizons. It had done just that. Ensign Eidar Yurishk was now the first Nausicaan in Starfleet. She moved with a practiced grace, much as a cat moves while it stalks a mouse. A nervous whimper drew her gaze downward. Nazur seemed agitated.

“Where do you suppose he went?”

“I don't know, if I knew, we wouldn't be looking for him.”

“Oh, right. It is just that he has been such a nice person towards us, taking us under his wing, showing us the ropes; we owe him a great deal.”

“That we do, Nazur, that we do.”

“I'm just worried about him, he seemed subdued at the graduation today.”

“Don't worry Nazur, we will find him.”


Captain Fidekari was thoroughly drunk when a pair of Klingons entered the establishment. Meorg and Lureg were brothers, dispossessed members of the disgraced house of Hoghk. The drunk Rigelian officer was just the kind of meat they had been looking for. Someone to take their pent up frustration out on. They sidled up to the bar and demanded bloodwine. They sat for around a half an hour and then sauntered up to the Captain.

“Meorg, I think we have a problem.”

“What problem is that?”

“I don't like this Rigelian petaQ's face.”

“Well, perhaps we should help him rearrange it.”

The Klingon's banter roused the drunken Captain from his stupor somewhat. The Ferengi seemed to have disappeared, so Fidekari got up to leave. He tried to move around the two debating Klingons when one of them shoved him into a table.


“What was that?” Nazur asked Eidar.

“What was, what?”

“I think I hear some people yelling in the direction of the waterfront.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to involve me breaking someone's bones?” Eidar sighed

“I have no idea.”

“It was rhetorical!”

They both broke into a run before Eidar simply picked up Nazur and carried the protesting Evora over her shoulder.

“Put me down this instant!”

“We both know you can't keep up with me sprinting”

“But it's not dignified!”

“Who cares?”

“Me!”

Ignoring the squirming ensign's indignities, Eidar raced towards the sounds of the scuffle. Violence was in her blood, there was nothing so perfect as a good fight. This made her ideal for her chosen field of security. Perhaps this day would be exciting after all.

Captain Fidekari uppercut on of the Klingons, sending him sprawling in to a group of chairs, smashing several of them. While he possessed, as a Rigelian, considerably more strength than most humans and was markedly tougher. He turned to face the other Klingon.

“Wurfless cowordsh, I am not so eashy to take down”

“We'll see about that!”

Meorg pulled a d'k tahg out from under his clothing and lunged at the Captain. The Ferengi bartender, peeked up from behind the bar, squeeked rather loudly and dropped to his hands and knees, attempting to find a way out before the Klingons tried to kill him too. Fidekari looked at the blade, his head pounding with an impending hangover. He picked up a chair and hurled it at Meorg. The chair caught Meorg in the shoulder and the Captain bolted for the exit.

Eidar reached the door only to have Captain Fidekari smash his head into her chest as he came bounding out the door. Eidar tripped, sending Nazur sailing through the air, her flight promptly interrupted by a wall.

“Ouch!”

“Professor!” Eidar exclaimed, “We have been looking for you.”

“Oh?, well there are two Klingons who are going to come looking for me very shortly, and they aren't very sporting.”

“Yes sir.” Eidar crouched low to the ground and started to loosen up, readying herself for the inevitable showdown. “Nazur, please get Starfleet Security on the line, tell them we need assistance and a medic just in case.”

“What?, not so much as an 'I'm sorry'?. Very well then.” Nazur got up, winced slightly and touched her com badge. “Starfleet Security please.”

Meanwhile, Meorg and Lureg had regained as much balance and composure as is possible for drunk klingons to have. Meorg turned to Lureg and said.

“I don't like this, it may be dishonorable to run from this fight but at least our dishonor would be secret. If we are caught then the Empire will extradite us and you know that the Federation will let them.”

“Bah! Getting a weak stomach now? Would you prefer I find a female so you can suckle at her breast? Worthless coward, you are. If we lose, we die in battle like true Klingons. If we run, we are nothing. Come on!”

Still wary, but not wanting to seem the coward, Meorg followed Lureg and charged up the stairs and out the door. He arrived just in time to see Lureg trip over a leg in Starfleet uniform but could not slow his momentum enough to avoid the Nausicaan's fist aimed squarely at his head. Sandwiched between the ferrocrete wall and Eidar's fist, Meorg's jaw and right eye socket cracked in several places. He winced with pain and started to react but the Nausicaan was just too fast. She whirled round and landed a vicious kick to his nose. Meorg staggered for a moment, blinking, and then collapsed in an unconscious heap. Eidar moved to deal with the other Klingon. Lureg had recovered from his fall and was now advancing toward the Captain with the single minded intent of tearing his arms off and beating him to death with them. Fidekari simply smiled and pointed at something behind Lureg. Suddenly, something tapped him on his shoulder and he turned around; only to find himself staring up at a Nausicaan in Starfleet colors.

“There aren't any Nausicaans in Star....”

His sentence was interrupted as Eidar lifted him by the throat, a good half meter off the ground. Lerug struggled against Eidar's vice-like grip, but she just kept squeezing until he passed out. She dropped him to the ground and went to see about Nazur.

“Are you ok?”

“Fine, I think...”

A trio of Starfleet officers materialized next to Captain Fidekari. The medic immediately went over to check on Nazur's condition. The security personnel took the Klingons into custody and beamed out. The rest hobbled back to Starfleet Headquarters.

“So this is what they mean when they say, 'Graduation day is like no other'.” Eidar mused.

“Shut up!” Nazur snapped.

Eomdrothi Fidekari suppressed a laugh as he walked behind the two.

“Yes” he thought, “Those two will make fine officers, someday.”

_________________________________________________________________________________


Back in Action

Stardate: 67417.1
Year: June 2nd, 2390
Location: Oakland, Earth, Sol, Sector 001

Captain Fidekari stares wistfully out the window of his official Starfleet residence as he took in the view across the bay. The fog and the rain this area of Earth received comforted him, similar to the temperate rain forests of his home world. He had not been back in nearly 30 years, not since before the Borg came. He remembered his last visit, the times good and bad; then he shut the thoughts from his mind, a single tear escaping from his left eye, running down the furrow of the scar he had received in hand to hand with a Jem'Hadar. It landed softly on his coat sleeve, soaking in and then vanishing, as though it were merely a passing dream. He got up from his chair and went over to the replicator, it had been twelve hours since he had last eaten or drunken anything, his fasting aiding his clarity of thought.

“Computer, a bowl of Brektager and a glass of Qekeri.”

The steaming bowl and beverage materialized in a shower of glowing particles. He took them back to his chair and seated himself. It had been a very long time since he had eaten anything native to his palette. Brektager was his favorite breakfast. A large root was hollowed out and then stewed with whole fruit for an hour, the mixture was then chopped up and served like a porridge. Qekeri was simply milk and a mixture of Rigellian spices, heated to a frothy boil. He ate slowly, savoring the tastes of home. He ordered the computer to display the news of the day in a text format, he did not feel up to hearing another being's voice. His wish was ignored, however, when the computer stated

“Priority Message from Starfleet Command”

Fidekari sighed, “On viewer”

The image of a Starfleet admiral appeared very suddenly on a large flat viewer in the north wall of the room. The Captain immediately recognized the face and dread began to claw at his heart.

“Captain Fidekari, good morning”

“Good morning, Admiral Cole, have you called to discharge me?”

“Not quite, Captain, there are those at Starfleet Command who would. However, since you have so many years of loyal service and you helped apprehend two wanted fugitives of the Klingon Empire. There are conditions, however.”

“But sir, I...”

“No but siring me, Eomie, you know better than that. I am forcing you to resign you post at Starfleet Academy, effective immediately. In addition, I am assigning you to a more appropriate posting”

“Please not the Merchant Marine” Eomie thought.

“I am assigning you command of the U.S.S Van Allen. It is a science vessel. That should be the perfect way to ease you back into things. You are to proceed to Spacedock for embarkation to Deep Space Nine.”

“Very well, ma'am”

“Oh, and your two students will be coming as well, they have both been assigned there as well. Cole Out.”

“Deep Space Nine” Eomie thought with disdain. He had never had much love for that rust bucket of a space station.

Stardate: 67447.8
Year: June 13th, 2390
Location: Deep Space Nine, B'hava'el system, Bajor Sector.

Eomie, Eidar, and Nazur stepped through the airlock and into the bustling Promenade of Deep Space Nine. Nazur seemed utterly fascinated by everything she saw but kept in a military step. Eidar kept her standard pose of calm alertness. Captain Fidekari sighed and walked after them, this place still stank of the Dominion War to him, it was a war he wished he could forget.

Stardate: 51955.3
Year: December 15th, 2374
Location: U.S.S Waterloo approaching Chin'Toka System

“Sir, we are approaching the Chin'toka system, Admiral Ross is signaling to drop out of warp and prepare for the attack on the Dominion's defenses.”

Commander Fidekari acknowledged the ensign and touched his combadge.

“Captain Harrigan to the bridge”

Elaine Harrigan was the most impressive human, Eomie had ever met. She was determined, willful, generous, kind, proud, and honorable all in the same breath. Now in her mid 50s, they had served together for over twenty years. Eomie could think of no one under whom he would rather serve. Not even under Picard and his vaunted Enterprise. Elaine was the perfect captain as far as Commander Fidekari was concerned. He sighed slightly and sat down in his chair just as the captain arrived.

Captain Harrigan sat down and said in her loud, clear voice “Red Alert, all hands to battle stations, prepare for possible damage control and boarding”

Eomie shivered with delight, he loved hearing the captain order general quarters, something about her posture and tone; it was just utterly flawless. He resumed his duties, monitoring the ships preparations for the impending battle.

Stardate: 51955.3
Year: December 15th, 2374
Location: U.S.S. Waterloo, Chin'toka System Defensive Line

The Jem'Hadar attack fighter swooped menacingly towards the Waterloo, its polaron weaponry carving deep slashing marks in its target's hull. Commander Fidekari grasped the edge of his chair tightly in an effort to avoid being thrown to the floor. The ship lurched again and he hit the deck with a dull thud. A trio of Jem'Hadar warriors suddenly beamed onto the bridge. Fidekari managed to shoot one before it could do anything but the others shot at the helmsman and the captain before they were killed by phaser fire. Lieutenant Grankar, the Tellarite sitting at Ops managed to reroute helm control and then used a photon torpedo spread to demolish the Jem'Hadar vessel. A medic rushed to the helm to check the ensign's vital signs but it was clear that he was dead. The captain had been hit in the shoulder, a large scorch mark that now oozed blood.

Stardate: 51955.8
Year: December 15th, 2374
Location: U.S.S. Waterloo, Chin'toka System

Commander Fidekari stood silently as Lieutenant Commander sh'Thebren attempted to stabilize Capatin Harrigan. He pushed several parts of his PADD's screen a few times and walked up to Eomdrothi.

“How is she?”

“She is not well, Commander. The Jem'Hadar weapons are laced with an anti-coagulant. I am having great difficulty stopping the bleeding. I do not know how much longer she will survive.”

The realization that Elaine could very well die hit Eomie like a ton of bricks. He gasped slightly for air and said, tears welling in his eyes. “May I speak with her?”

“Of course, Commander, though please make it brief, she needs her strength.”

Commander Fidekari walked over to the bed and stood at attention.

“As you were, Eomie”

“Captain, I...”

“There's no need to mix words, we both know I almost certainly dead already.”

Tears welled in Eomie's eyes and began to stream down his face, running along the lines of his old scar and cheeks. He twitched involuntarily and grasped the Captain's hands.

“Elaine, death is not your path, the medical staff will save you.”

It was plain as day from the ghostly pale color of Captain Harrigan's face, that she was at the very least extremely weak. Elaine, however, had never been one to give up.

“Your faith in them and in me is admirable, you were always one of deep certainty. Stay strong Eomie, for me, for the crew, for the rest of the Federation. The crew needs you to lead them, don't let loss cloud your judgement.”
“You are not going to die, I will not allow it. You are my captain and my friend, it is my duty to not allow it.”

“You are more than a friend, Eomie, did you think you could hide that from me? It might have been nice to have realized that but now we will never know. Remember me, dear friend, and do not dispair. I will miss you, Eomie.”

With these words, the Captain lay back and let out a long, deep sigh. Her head came to rest at an odd angle and she was still. Commander Fidekari's eyes widened with the shock of the realization that the one person he had cared for most in his entire life was now gone, forever. He embraced her lifeless body, his face soaked with tears, and held her close.

“I will not forget. I will lead this crew as you did.”

He held the embrace a short while longer and then exited out of sickbay, his legs shaking under him as he walked. He found himself on the bridge, his face now mostly dry but his eyes were still bright green around the edges.

“Ensign, take us to the rendezvous point with the fleet.”

“Aye, sir, and sir?”

“Yes, ensign?”

“I am sorry about the Captain.”

“We all are, ensign, we all are.”

Stardate: 52955.0
Year: December 15th , 2375
Location: Deep Space Nine, B'hava'el system, Bajor Sector.

Eomdrothi stared out into space from the Promenade. The Dominion had been defeated but at a horrendous cost. Yet, those lives and ships seemed but ants next to the hole in his heart left by the death of Elaine. It had been a year, to the day but he still felt lost, empty, nearly dead himself. He wished it had been he who had died, so that she, the love of his life might have lived. He took another look out the window and made up his mind. He would forsake his command of the Waterloo, it was never his to take. He did not deserve it. He would accept a teaching position at Starfleet Academy and then finally let himself heal. He would recover from her, and move on.

Stardate: 67449.1
Year: June 13th, 2390
Location: Deep Space Nine, B'hava'el system, Bajor Sector.

He never had truly healed. He had lost the love of his live and he just could not let go. Even after the endless sessions with that Betazoid counselor Starfleet had recommended, he still felt lost. He trudged on, convinced that time and work would heal him. It did not work. He couldn't let go of her, she was his ideal perfection. A being of supreme grace and joy, that he would never experience again.

“Captain?” Nazur said.

Eomie snapped out of his trance and answered “What is it, ensign?”

“Station Control wants you to know that the Van Allen has arrived and is awaiting your inspection.” she paused for a moment as if considering something, “Oh, and Captain Bashir sends his regards.”

“Smug bastard” Eomie thought. “Well ensign", He said, "I suppose we should be on our way”.

_________________________________________________________________________________


Marathon

Stardate: 76773.06
Year: October 10th, 2399
Location: Amazon Developmental Shipyards, Amazon 591 system, Sector 748.

“Good Morning Lieutenant, you are up early”.

Lieutenant Kirayoshi O'Brien turned around and straightened his uniform. He saluted the officer in front of him.

“Good Morning Commander Ro, I trust you briefings at Starfleet Headquarters went well.”

“They have given us full authorization to complete the project.”

“They are launching the vessel?”

“Yes, and I have requested that you oversee the project as Chief Engineer, congratulations Lieutenant Commander.”

Commander Ro handed a hollow silver pip to Kirayoshi and saluted the newly promoted human.

“Thank You, sir.” Kirayoshi said as he saluted and then affixed the pip to his collar.

Stardate: 77203.78
Year: March 15th, 2400
Location: U.S.S Van Allen, Enroute to Deep Space 12

“Ensign, how long until we reach our destination?”

“5 hours give or take, Commander.”

“Very well, hold this course and speed.”

Commander Ivan Konstantin Andreyev got up from his chair and went to the ready room to speak with the captain. He pushed the call panel on the side of the door and waited for a response.

“Enter” Captain Fidekari said.

The commander entered, saluted, and then seated himself in the chair opposite the captain's.

“We will reach Deep Space 12 in 5 hours, sir,”

“Very well, what are your orders after the crew transfer is complete?”

“We are to resume our mission once we have been refitted at Starbase 183.”

“Have you selected a first officer yet?”

“No, not yet, I prefer to see how things level out once you are gone.”

“I see, we ll may I suggest Lieutenant Museveni?”

“He would be an excellent choice, however, perhaps some new blood?”

“It will be your ship, it's up to you.”

“If I may ask sir, what is your next assignment?”

“I am to over see a newly constructed prototype, they tell me she has undergone shakedown trials and is ready for a full crew and a real mission.”

“I see.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the communications officer, “Priority message from Starfleet”

“If you will excuse me, Ivan.”

“Of course, Captain.”

The face of Admiral Cole appeared on the monitor, she looked rather disturbed about something.

“Ah, good afternoon admiral. What can I do for you?”

“I have been instructed to contact you as to the specifics of your next command, please secure the channel.”

Eomie pushed several of the symbols on the keypad next to him. The computer made a chiming sound and stated “Full Security Protocols engaged, please enter your security clearance”. Eomie punched a few more symbols and the computer droned “Access to secure channel granted”.

“Very well, Admiral. Please do continue.”

“Captain, you are to oversee the first field tests and subsequent deployment of a very unique ship. I am transmitting the specifications now.”

Captain Fidekari nearly spilled the drink he had been holding in shock.

“Admiral, this can't be correct, it states that this ship has an operational quantum slipstream drive.”

“You read correctly Captain. It is very important that you discuss this with no one out side your new crew.”

“Understood; incidentally did you get Lieutenants Eidar and Nazur assigned with me?.”

“I did one better, I got them both promoted. Based on the reports of those dilithium surveys, I'd say both of them were due anyway. Also you should be familiar with the chief engineer and the doctor on board, you have met them both before.”

Eomie pulled up the crew manifest, his eyes lit up with delight.

“Well you never cease to amaze me, Admiral. You managed to get me an O'Brien for the engines and I have no idea how you managed to get Nolam away from Captain Sykes.”

“Let's just say, I elevated his position somewhat. As for Mr. O'Brien, he was one of the original developers of the drive.”

“Miles had mentioned something about him working in a shipyard the last time we spoke but that was four or five years ago. I had no idea they were so close to solving the difficulties.”

“They haven't quite yet, Lieutenant Commander O'Brien can tell you what the drive can do better than I. In any case, I also have your standing orders. First, you are to arrive at Deep Space 12 and wait until the ship arrives. Second, you will appear at the dedication ceremony, I know you hate formal occasions but suck it up just this once, for me. Ok? Next, go to Sector 392 to rendezvous with the Brandenburg and take on several new crew members including Dr. Karrec and your new first officer. At that point, you are to head to Deneb III, the remainder of you mission will be given to you shortly there after. Any questions Captain?”

“What are we calling this thing?”

“They designated her, U.S.S. Marathon of the Marathon class as is tradition.”

“A fitting name if memory serves me well. I do not believe I have any further questions, will that be all?”

“Indeed Captain, Cole out.”

“Well” Eomie thought, “Perhaps this assignment will be interesting after all.”

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Taking the Eagle on the Cross

The following is a reprint of a paper I presented at the Georgia State University Religious Studies Student Symposium in April 2012:


Taking the Eagle on the Cross: Byzantine conceptions of Holy War

In an addendum to his podcast, “Twelve Byzantine Rulers”, Lars Brownworth discusses a conversation between an Islamic scholar and Manuel II Palaiologos, third to last Byzantine Emperor in the early 15th century. “Written down as “26 Dialogs with a Persian”, Manuel II thoroughly attacks the idea of holy war as being in any way just or useful” (Brownworth). This section of the dialogs was then quoted by Pope Benedict the XVI in a speech at the University of Rebensburg in 2006. (Benedict XVI):
Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached.” The emperor, after having expressed himself so forcefully, goes on to explain in detail the reasons why spreading the faith through violence is something unreasonable. Violence is incompatible with the nature of God and the nature of the soul. "God", he says, "is not pleased by blood – and not acting reasonably is contrary to God's nature. Faith is born of the soul, not the body. Whoever would lead someone to faith needs the ability to speak well and to reason properly, without violence and threats... To convince a reasonable soul, one does not need a strong arm, or weapons of any kind, or any other means of threatening a person with death...”
Clearly Manuel II has a particular conception of holy war here is a kind of “faith by the sword”. He seems to regard it as affronting to God. What is at stake is the question of whether the Emperor could support his position or was he accusing the Muslims of similar things to what his Empire had done? Geoffrey Regen argues that the Byzantines in fact invented a form of Holy War similar to the later Crusades and Jihads. (Regen v). How could Manuel II arrive at such a position as he held in the dialogs if Holy War had traditional roots with Byzantium?
In order to understand how Manuel II arrived at such an opinion, it is necessary to understand the structure of the Byzantine Empire. As a direct, eventually fully Greek speaking successor to the Eastern Roman Empire, they identified as Romaioi or Romans throughout the Empire's history (Miller 10). ). The use of religion in warfare was by no means a new concept. The Battle of the Milvian Bridge made famous by the painting of crosses on the shields of Constantine's troops, was not some sudden conversion as often portrayed but a continuation of the use of the symbol “Sol Invictus” invoked in years previous by Constantine's father. (Regen 3, 12-14). Constantine used the council of Nicea and the founding of Constantinople, as a specifically Christian city, to enforce a point that he was the right hand on Earth of the Almighty Christian God. (Regen 22-23).
By the time of Manuel II, however, the Empire was a mere shell of its former self, controlling only Eastern Thrace, Thessaloniki, and the southern half of Morea (Encyclopedia Britannica). Regen argues that this Crusade was not the first Crusade at all, but rather that we can look back to Heraclius to find the origins of the idea of Crusade and indeed the very idea of a “Holy War” (Regen v). Constantine may have marched forth under the sign of the “Unconquerable Sun”, but Heraclius was the first to use the language of holy war to define an enemy and rally his people behind him (Regen 14).
Men, my brethren, let us keep in mind the fear of God and fight to avenge the insult done to God. Let us stand bravely against the enemy who have inflicted many terrible things on the Christians. Let us respect the sovereign state of the Romans and oppose the enemy who is armed with impiety. Let us be inspired with faith that defeats murder. Let us be mindful of the fact that we are within the Persian land and that flight carries a great danger. Let us avenge the rape of our virgins and be afflicted in our hearts as we see the severed limbs of our soldiers. The danger is not without recompense: nay, it leads to eternal life. Let us stand bravely, and the Lord our God will assist us and destroy the enemy” (Regen 81).


By the early 7th century CE, the Empire had reclaimed much of the lost territory in the west. Weakened by the Emperor Phokas began purging the Byzantine military of political opponents upon taking the throne in 602 CE. (Regen 48-50). This was very poor timing as an angry Persian king was bearing down on the Byzantine Empire as vengeance for Byzantine intervention in the recent Persian Succession War. Combined with the cruelty of Phokas toward the populace in Constantinople, allowed Heraclius to effectively stage a coup and execute Phokas (Regen 54-55). Heraclius, fair haired and blue eyed, was received as the new Constantine.The financial and military ruin brought by Phokas resulted in the Avars and Slavs attacking the Balkans and the Persians taking Egypt and Jerusalem including the relic of the True Cross (Regen 68-69). This desperate situation set the stage for the idea of Holy War to take root and grow into the saving grace of the Empire.
Sergius, the patriarch of Constaninople made the offer to sell church property to fund a massive campaign to drive the Persians back. In addition, the morale of the people would need to be regained in order to win the war. Explicitly religious terms were employed, casting the Persian King as Satan and Heraclius as David, the man chosen by God to save the Empire (Regen 69-70). Byzantine armies had defended the Empire as the Chosen Empire of God for centuries (Miller 10). This was different; this was a war of annihilation, a fight to the very end where there would be only one victor. The Persians had to be destroyed.
Heraclius having raised a massive army, goaded on by promises of Martyrdom, struck deep into Persian territory. Whereas before the duty had been to the Empire, now the soldiers were exhorted to fight as Christian warriors, each one deserving of Paradise if he died (Regen 82). Heraclius struck a deeply religious blow to the Persians when he sacked and desecrated the Zoroastrian shrine at Takht-i Salaiman. (Regen 81). Heraclius won that war, recovering the True Cross and securing the Empire against further incursion by the Persians. This was a Pyrrhic victory, as the Arabs under the banner of Islam then stormed out of Arabia taking the Levant and North Africa under their own form of holy war, Jihad. Regen suggests that Mohammed may well have been influenced by the language and concepts that Heraclius used to launch his holy war against Persia, but the evidence is scant and sources few as to the exact nature of early Islamic jihad (Regen 254-255). The Empire survived, but the next few centuries were a tenuous holding on. Furthermore, the Byzantines were highly religious about the fate of the Empire. They felt that they existed by the grace of God. A grace that an angry God could easily withdraw and doom them all if they failed to live up to His standards (Nicol 4-6).
Heraclius was also regarded as an example of knightly virtue in the West, the one of the first of the so called “Paladins” (Regen vii). This clearly demonstrates that at least some the qualities prized by Latin crusaders to be Byzantine in origin. In Heraclius, we have a man who went to war with an enemy on religious grounds as well as for survival. For the Empire of God on Earth to survive, desperate measures had to be taken.
Alexios I beseeched the West for aid against the Turks in the 11th century, thereby launching the formal “First Crusade”. Attempting to recover from the defeat of the emperor Romanos Diogenes, Alexios I's requested mercenaries some years later. However, Christian pilgrims had begun to suffer from the breakdowns in Byzantine military capacity even before Romanos’ defeat and thus the stage was set for Rome to clear the way for pilgrims and to claim the mantle of defender of Christianity (Regen 225-227). This was not helped by Byzantine conduct during the First Crusade. The scale of the intervention was totally unexpected and Alexios I tried at all costs to preserve Byzantine authority against a vastly numerically superior force via guile and trickery. This was seen as entirely dishonorable by Western Crusaders.
Pope Urban II had used the very same style of language used by Heraclius to incite the Latin crusaders to action:
O what a disgrace if a race so despised as the Turks, so base and full of demons, should overcome a people faithful to the All-powerful God, and resplendent with the name of Christ! O what reproaches will be charged against you by the Lord Himself if you do not help our fellow Christians! Let those who delight in making private wars against the Faithful turn their wrath against infidels, who should have been driven back before now. Let robbers become soldiers of Christ. Let them fight barbarians, not brothers. Let those who will fight and kill for any low wage now labour instead for an eternal reward. Let those dejected in mind and body offer themselves to the glory of heaven. And if any who goes should lose his life, by land or sea, or in fighting the pagans, his sins shall be remitted. This I will grant by the power invested in me by God.” (Foss 38).

Here again, we see personal appeals to a wildly disparate force, to each that he should go and fight not for pay in gold or land but for pay in the hereafter in the form of eternal Paradise. So, here we have a good idea of what a specifically holy war should look like. It is a war fought for religious reasons on grounds of defense of a divinely chosen faith. It sets about demonizing its enemies as servants of evil. It attracts forces that are often highly irregular but also typically highly effective due to their willingness to die en masse as the crusaders did in the siege of Jerusalem during the First Crusade.
The key difference between Byzantine conceptions of war and the Latin and Muslim concepts was the idea of war as tragedy. War was something that should be avoided if at all possible in the Byzantine mind. Saint Basil had proscribed that a soldier should abstain from taking communion while on active duty (Miller 11). Regen suggests that this view was set when the Empire was not in peril in the 4th century, and that Basil would have formulated it differently had he lived at the time of Heraclius (Regen 191). The Empire had forfeited its moral authority over Christianity by not joining fully in the Crusades and had continually feuded with the Latin church ever since. The Byzantine emperors and various claimants to the throne even sought aid from the Turks at various points in internal conflicts. Manuel II had spent time as a Turkish vassal (Dennis xiv – xv). Had the Empire truly still been large, perhaps his attitudes would have fit a more aggressive mold.
So, Byzantine attitudes toward holy war seem to have changed with the times, when the Empire needed saving, Heraclius roused the Empire to heights of greatness. By the time of Manuel II, calling a Crusade would have been a fruitless gesture with the Byzantine populace convinced they had lost the protection of God and the Latin Church viewing the Byzantines as mere heretics. Holy War can only be of use when the populace feels that God is on their side. Without that spiritual resource, Manuel II could be reasonably expected to defend his faith and his empire in terms of peace rather than war.

Works Cited:

Brownworth, Lars. “Manuel II: Faith and Reason” Twelve Byzantine Rulers Lars Brownworth 2007. MP3 File.

"Byzantine Empire." Encyclopædia Britannica. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. Encyclopædia Britannica Inc., 2012. Web. 19 Mar. 2012.

Dennis, George T., Timothy S Miller, and John W Nesbitt. Peace and War in Byzantium: Essays in Honor of George T. Dennis, S.J. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1995. Print.

Foss, Michael. People of the First Crusade. 1st U.S. ed. New York: Arcade Pub., 1997. Print.

Manuel II Palaeologus, Emperor of the East, and George T Dennis. The Letters of Manuel II Palaeologus: Text, Translation, and Notes. Washington : Locust Valley, N.Y.: Dumbarton Oaks Center for Byzantine Studies, Trustees for Harvard University, 1977. Print.

"Meeting with the Representatives of Science" The Holy Father – Benedict XVI. The Vatican Publishing House, 12 Sep 2006 Web. 19 Mar. 2012.

Nicol, Donald MacGillivray. Church and Society in the Last Centuries of Byzantium. Cambridge [Eng.] ; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1979. Print.

Regan, Geoffrey. First Crusader: Byzantium's Holy Wars. 1st Palgrave Macmillan ed. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003. Print.

Friday, May 18, 2012

Let the Blogging Begin

Welcome to my little corner of the internet. I'm glad you saw fit to come.  Here, I'll ruminate about programming, art, philosophy, language, history, religion, science, and life in general. I'll do my best to be wise and well informed but I suspect often as not my "profound insights" will be the Flipping Obvious to you.