Sigil of the Wolf - 4. Chapter 4

HMS Excalibur - en-route to the Eisenhower System

He felt the buttons pressing into his face and the stiffness in the back of his neck and reluctantly Kyr opened an eye; the face recognition program Excalibur was running was still scanning through hundreds of thousands of photographs, endless hours of video footage, paintings, literally anything that might give the small doctor a clue as to who his friend was supposed to be.

So far he was drawing a blank. Excalibur's database was uncooperative - there was just too much data missing, and the Imperial databases copied from Walker von Karin's archives, while more complete, seemed to also be lacking any kind of reference, which left Kyr absently tapping the console in frustration.

He'd studied in one of the best boarding schools on his world, educated in true Imperial fashion. Culture, art and history, mathematics and the sciences. He'd been lucky, many of the kids on Earth and other Amsus colonies never saw the inside of a classroom: the Amsus preferred them that way, uneducated and anaesthetized.

He looked up as Lauren, looking somewhat rested, pushed a mug of coffee under his nose. He gwuffed and yawned again tiredly as he accepted it, uncurling himself from around the console as he straightened sore muscles. Sure, a Kaynin was genetically bred to be able to sleep anywhere, but Kyr still preferred a good couch to a computer panel.

"What are you doing?" Lauren asked, leaning over his shoulder, looking at the computer digitally mapping photographs and film.

"I had an idea," he said, taking a long sigh as he glanced around the bridge. Alpha watch was coming on duty, Darien conversing with Commander Durnham as the Excalibur prepared to execute its jump to Eisenhower Station. Elias was down on one of the lower levels, working on an open panel to fix a glitch in the main targeting system.

Lauren watched the flashing scan as it began to search older records. "Who are you looking for?"

Kyr sipped his coffee and nodded down to Elias, who was working hard, despite the fact that Nazzien was impatiently standing over his shoulder, waiting to have his weapon systems back online. Elias's small hands fiddled in spaces that would give other technicians difficulty, as he crawled under the console, sticking his feet up in the air.

Realization dawned on Lauren as she rested a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Have you tried searching the Orion database?"

"It's too big, two thousand channels of programming... not to mention the five hundred shopping channels." Kyr admitted, shaking his head, remembering his time serving as a doctor on an Orion Tradeliner;"besides..." he lowered his voice, "My people try to avoid exposure to Orion entertainment. It tends to be a bit over the top for our tastes."

"Right," Lauren said thoughtfully, watching as Elias got up, pushing his pale blonde hair out of his eyes and stroking the console, whispering something to it. He held such empathy for the Excalibur's systems; he knew every piece of equipment, every component, tending to it without complaint. And Excalibur, for her part, loved him for it.

She shivered again, crossing her arms; she'd grown fond of the engineer. He'd become the little brother she'd never had, who was now, in a way, as close to a blood relative as she would ever have.

"Well, what did you have access to on your world?" She asked absently, trying to bury her sudden flood of memories about Rikard, and the devil-like Polian torturer, and what they had done to her.

"The classics," Kyr said, "Whatever we could save from the Amsus purge. Our galactic news feeds were all Amsus..." He stopped. Whilst the Imperial data was gone, there were still the Amsus historical records; they had been meticulous in keeping their records of the fall of the Empire: the death of Lord Morvanor and the trials of the remnants of the Imperial royal family, along with their subsequent executions. A comprehensive history of the end of the era and what that came after: three hundred years of darkness.

He switched the Excalibur's scans to the Amsus documents, his hands clammy and wet as he leaned forward, part of him knowing what he'd find.

Lauren turned her head as the computer found its results. Her jaw slipped open, and her eyes grew wide.

"Standby for jump manoeuvre," Darien announced, walking back to take the helm, looking over at Sub-Lieutenant Galadriel who was checking to make sure that all the fighters were down in readiness for the jump.

"...I plead not guilty..." Elias's voice flooded over the speakers.

Darien turned in confusion, glancing down the deck at Elias, who sat upright looking startled at everyone suddenly looking in his direction.

"Sorry," Lauren said, reaching out to hit the mute button, watching a black haired young man bearing a striking resemblance to Elias on the stand before the Inquisitor tribunal... well, not Elias...

Darien got up from his seat, pulling his glasses from the pocket of his shirt and slipping them on as he leaned over Kyr's shoulder. "That's..." he said, looking over at the engineer, who was still standing looking confused at all the attention directed towards him.

"That is Prince Edward," Kyr said softly, awe tingeing his voice, his shoulders slumping, "VonGrippen's grandson, the last blood relative of the Immortal Emperor..."

The Highlord leaned in close to the screen. The resemblance was uncanny, he had to admit that. The young man was on the stand in a torn uniform, looking lost, frightened, and alone. Darien had a momentary sense of dread deep inside of him: how anyone could torture someone as beautiful, as tender as Elias was?

"Do we have to tell him?" Kyr asked with a wry grin, "His ego's already getting kinda big..."

Darien chuckled at his attempt to lighten the mood. All three of them had to be experiencing the same feeling of protectiveness; his best friend, his big sister and the man who loved him. Darien shook his head. "I should do it," he said, straightening up.

"Wait," Kyr said, keeping his voice low, because the fact that Elias was standing up on tip-toes from the level below them, trying to hear and see what they were discussing, "In order to custom build a construct of a specific person, you need to have a genetic sample of that person, or else all you're going to get is a similar copy..." he called up the Excalibur's bridge monitors, taking an image of the inquisitive engineer, the Excalibur's system already comparing the two.

"They're identical," Lauren said, "Someone went to a lot of trouble, and expense, to... create him."

"They're not getting him back," Darien said firmly, reaching out to shut off the screens, "Let's get back to..."

Elias bounded up, peering around Darien at the dark console, his face curious, "What's going on?" he asked, trying to appear coolly uninterested despite his obvious eager bouncing.

Darien didn't care that he was breaking a naval protocol; it was his ship. He wrapped an arm around the short, thin engineer and pulled him tightly against him. "We're getting ready to jump," he said, nodding for Lauren to take the helm.

"All hands, brace for jump," Lauren announced, slipping into the helm chair and finishing Darien's jump calculations. Moments later the Excalibur sprang into hyperspace.

* * *

"Please be careful," Commander Durnham repeated, for the tenth time.

Elias sighed, looking back over his shoulder, crouched down in the main computer centre tucked deep in the heart of the ship.

Excalibur's brain, a series of networked quantum computers, was in a separate room off to his right, and her liquid state memory core was actually beneath him, a giant vat of blue goo that held the data in little flecks of light... Elias was always amazed at how creative her inventors had been; there had never been a computer quite like it built before or since. Not bad for technology predating even the old Empire.

The old UN logos on much of the equipment there were more predominant than they were anywhere else on the ship. After so many upgrades and refits, the computers were probably the only original parts.

He wasn't there to tinker with her; he was instead working on the smaller flat computer device that contained and processed the holographic commander. He could understand Kit's nervousness; he would be nervous too if someone was jabbing around in his insides, trying to upgrade his tonsils.

"Give me a second," Elias murmured, trying to wrestle the awkward box free of its port, "This isn't going to hurt... one..." he twisted it to the right and pulled it free as the holographic commander vanished... "Well, I didn't mean to do that," he said, holding the flat computer that was about the size of a laptop.

He shrugged, turned it over and opened a port, quickly switching out the obsolete processor, installing a new one that would work a lot better. Modular technology was one of the blessings of modern computing, though it had taken him a lot of time trying to design a board that would be compatible with the obsolete technology. Once complete, he slid the box back into its mounting, careful to reattach the right ports.

Kit reappeared, a look of disgruntlement on his face. "That was..."

"An out of body experience?" Elias offered helpfully.

The Commander looked unimpressed at the joke as he passed his holographic hand through a wall. "Those, I am accustomed to. That was... disorienting."

"Sorry," Elias looked sheepish as he set about repacking his tools into their cases. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can." Kit replied, bending down to get a better look at the installation; even though his eyes weren't real, it was the approximation of human behaviour that reminded everyone that he had once been alive.

"Why's everyone acting so funny?" Elias blinked his blue eyes and sat down on the edge of a step, "I mean, ever since we went through the Jump Nexus and docked with Sentinel Station..."

"The Highlord has a lot on his mind;" Kit said dismissively. "The war effort isn't going well..."

"It's not that," Elias said, firmly folding his arms, "It's him, Lauren and Kyr, they're all acting strange around me."

"It's been approximately two hours since we jumped into the Eisenhower system, one and a half since we transited the Jump Nexus and began docking procedures with Sentinel. I think you're suffering from Organic Cognitive Malfunction."

"Who in the what now?" Elias asked, idly playing with a screwdriver.

"Organic Cognitive Malfunction," Kit clarified, "Is an AI term used to refer to human beings behaving in ways contrary to expected parameters... I think you're nuts."

"Oh, Section-Eight certifiable." Darien commented, coming down the ladder into the server room. He dropped the last few feet to the deck and walked over to tussle Elias's hair. "You forgot to turn your TAC-link on," he said, reaching out to activate the small roll-radio tucked into Elias's pocket. "I've been trying to find you for half an hour; I'm going across to Sentinel to meet with General Iver, I wanted to know if you needed anything..."

"Flowers... chocolates..." Elias grinned as he stood up, reaching out to pull Darien closer to him by the red lapels of Darien's greatcoat, reaching up to straighten the unbuttoned collar of Darien's rumpled shirt. "You're all scruffy." He said, smirking, "shouldn't you be wearing a uniform?"

"You're a fine one to talk, mister 'I'll bathe every other day'..." Darien replied, his own fingers brushing the silky skin at the nape of Elias's neck, admitting to himself that it was a vast improvement over the state Elias had been in when they'd first met. Living aboard cramped ships with no shower facilities really wasn't conducive to good personal hygiene. At least Excalibur had proper facilities, and Elias used them whenever he remembered too. That, and Darien had to admit, he liked the faint scent of engine grease that always followed Elias around.

"Uhhh..." Elias said, turning bright red feeling Darien's proximity, curling into Darien's hand, much more of this and... he suddenly opened his eyes and looked over at Commander Durnham and back at Darien. "Don't you have a meeting to go to?" He asked, snapping Darien back into the moment.

"...Right," Darien nodded, snapping his fingers. "Well... carry on Lieutenant." He turned first one way, realized it wouldn't lead him anywhere, then turned back and quickly hurried up the ladder.

The holographic commander shook his head. "OCM..." He murmured.

* * *

General Iver's CIC was dark, the main screen lit by night vision orbital imagery taken by one of the support frigates overseeing the situation. To the right of that was a detailed map of the world that highlighted the Amsus invasion points. They were dropping ground troops by the thousands.

"How are they managing it?" Colonel Churchill, General Iver's top field commander asked from his side of the table, accepting reports as his adjutant handed them to him.

"I don't know," came the crackling reply through the overhead speakers, Colonel Ramsey reporting from the forward command centre on the Colony world, "my forward observation posts haven't been able to get a...." The speakers burst into static.

"What happened?" Lt. Colonel Evans asked. He had arrived the day before by courier vessel to make his report directly to General Iver. He stood off to one side, examining the data on the holographic display that confirmed that there were no Amsus ships in orbit.

"Colonel Ramsey?" Colonel Churchill asked into his TAC-link, desperately, repeating the call, only to be met with static.

"The Amsus are jamming the FTL comms." General Iver's baritone resonated as he placed the flats of his palms on the situation table; he glared down at the scattered reports around him, gritting his teeth. "How did they get that many troops onto that colony without us knowing about it?"

"Low altitude hyperspace jumps," one of his staff officers suggested, "Dropships jumping into the atmosphere..."

"That's unlikely," Highlord Taine replied, folding his arms and stepping forward from where he had been quietly waiting to speak to the General.

The Fleet and Marine officers turned collectively to look at the young man standing at the far end of the broad table, his dark eyes sweeping the boards.

"The mathematical computations to jump into a system from hyperspace puts you anywhere from five to five hundred miles from your destination target. If they tried to jump ships into an atmosphere, you'd be seeing dropships materializing around the planet, as well as some appearing inside it. There's a reason you jump into the outer system and cruise in towards a planet..."

"Could they have found a way around it, milord?" Evans asked, exchanging a look with General Iver, wary of Taine's interruption.

"Anything's possible, but it would be beyond even our most advanced computers..." Darien concluded, coming forward to look over the situation board. He noted that Colonel Ramsey's positions were being overrun, and soon he would have to order a general retreat from the world if he couldn't find a way to stop the Amsus from dropping troops.

"What about the Polians?" Evans asked, picking up a mug of coffee, sniffing it and crossing to a pot to refresh the mug, "Weren't there reports by House Kardiac during the last war that they were able to pull of impossible manoeuvres using hyperspace jumps?" He added more sugar, stirring it, taking his time as if there was nothing wrong.

"But where are the ships?" Darien pressed, sweeping papers to one side as he gestured to the tactical map, "Nothing here registers as having the kind of mass required to transport this many troops." He was painfully aware that at that moment he was no longer a military officer, but as a Highlord they had to listen to him, at least his experience with Starships counted for something. They were looking to him for an explanation, one he simply didn't have. It was as if the Amsus had found a way to simply deposit an army onto a world, forgoing the logistical nightmare of transporting them, supplies and equipment via starship.

Darien chewed on the puzzle studying the map. "Where are they coming from?" He asked, "You don't just magically will an army into being, it has to come from somewhere, right?"

General Iver nodded in agreement, motioning to his Intel officer. "I want to know Amsus troop movements in the past few days."

The General moved away from the tactical map, motioning for Darien to follow him into the office. The dark glass room was dominated by a large table piled with books and reports neatly arranged. The backlit shelves around the room were lined with texts and military encyclopaedias, recognition guides and charts. It was characteristically Iver.

Darien walked into the room, sweeping his greatcoat off as he realized there were no chairs in Iver's office, just the large table. He set his coat down and leaned on the table.

Iver stood at the far end of the table, as he folded his arms and kept a hand beside his mouth as he spoke in a low tone.

"My Intelligence analysts report that we've known about a possible Polian-Amsus Alliance for a while now, but this is the first indication that they are exchanging technology." The grey haired man in his late forties searched Taine's face.

"I know, General," Darien replied, darting a glance up at the screens suspended from the ceiling. They were precariously balanced, and the Empire's main advantage came in its fleet, its ships, while they were vastly outnumbered and their technology advancements were crucial. The Amsus were attempting to take that factor out of the equation altogether. "Look, find where they're coming from and I'll take the Excalibur there, hit them hard and fast, maybe we can shut this thing down before they can use it to turn the war in their favour..."

Iver studied the self proclaimed Highlord for a moment; there was no denying the rivalry Iver felt towards the young man standing before him leaning on his table. Each man had been successful in their own right - Iver turning from the head of a small personal guard into General of the Imperial armies, Taine turning from former police officer into the Highlord of an Imperial House.

Iver weighed the potential gains of accepting Darien's offer while the Highlord stood reading the expressions flickering across the General's face.

"This is what I'm good at," Darien said firmly, "My ship is fast enough to get in and get out, and we can hit them hard. I can help you..."

Iver clenched his teeth and shook his head. "I don't need your help," he said, resting a hand on the table, "I've taken the liberty of reviewing the Excalibur's logbook..." His hand moved to rest on a red leather-bound book that had, until a moment before, been covered by papers.

Darien felt a flush of anger; the General had no right removing the Excalibur's logbook without permission. He glared down at it a moment, wondering how the General had managed to get a hold of his logs, and how the General had managed to review them. Something was wrong.

"That is theft, General." Darien said, a warning note in his voice. He reached out and picked up his greatcoat, his eyes never leaving the General's as he swept it on.

General Iver folded his arms. "You may have the Archduke's ear, Highlord, but I am still in command of the Military forces. I am transferring elements of your crew and redistributing them throughout the invasion fleet where they can do the most good." He pushed transfer orders across the table.

Darien studied the transfer orders, scanning over the list of officers, stopping on the last one. "No." he said simply.

"This isn't a matter for debate Taine; I have already made arrangements to have the officers brought from your ship." The General stared through the thick glass towards his CIC where Lt. Colonel Evans nodded, indicating that it had been done.

Darien clenched his fist a moment, his hands rising to rest on the butts of the pair of revolvers he had been given after the liberation of Taïr as he glared at the General. "You have no authority to issue commands to a VonGrippen House ship, General..."

"Listen to me very carefully," General Iver said, placing the flats of his hands down on the surface of the broad table, his voice dark and deadly, "I didn't pin this rank to my collar and declare myself an officer, I am one. I did my time working up to the rank I now hold; I trained in the Karin academies and served in the Karin Guard while you were still being breast-fed. I know a thing or two about what it takes to command." His finger tapped the logbook. "Fraternizing with a subordinate officer in a war situation presents a clear violation of rules and regulations and introduces an unstable element to the battlefield."

Darien gritted his teeth, taking a menacing step forward. "I am a Highlord, General, the internal affairs of my ship are not your concern..."

"It has already been done." The General looked up and nodded to two of his guards waiting outside the office, both stepping in carrying their pulse rifles. "Escort the Highlord back to his ship..."

He started as the shadows by the door erupted into a blur of motion, the figure spinning his arms as he knocked the pulse rifle from one of their hands, his feet up and kicking it into the second, knocking him flat on his back. The first joined him as James broke his nose: turning back, he flicked his wrists, and two black blades spun into his hands.

"Stop," Darien held up a hand, knowing that his command would be obeyed without question. He stared levelly at the General whose eyes had never left the Fida'i.

The Aga-Khan walked forward to snatch his logbook back, fixing a cold, hard stare on the General as he walked from the CIC, James following a few steps behind.

* * *

Mayfair whistled when they clanked through the docking port. They were easily six feet tall in their slate grey armour plating, carrying impressive machine guns with belt loaded ammunition extending around to their backpacks. The Wolf Brigade was the heavy assault unit of the Karin forces, selected veterans from other units that had all seen front line action. The Wolves formed the core elite of the Imperial Special forces, and Mayfair whistled as they assembled in the corridors and came to attention, faces hidden by gas masks and adjustable optical scopes. The only colour was the Wolf's head painted on the sides of their Kevlar helmets.

They remained motionless, perfectly still as the Colonel walked down the double line towards where the unit commander had stepped forward to greet him. The platoon Lieutenant offered a tight-fisted salute to the Colonel. "We have come to collect the transfers," he declared in a flat voice mechanically garbled by the gas mask. His gloved hand produced a folded sheaf of orders that he handed to the Colonel.

"What's going on?" Lauren asked as she rested against a crate looking at Nazzien, the two standing back down the corridor where they had been overseeing the Excalibur's re-supply for combat missions.

"They don't exactly paint a warm and fuzzy picture of the new Empire," Nazzien said, shaking his head, "Those are killing machines."

"The Empire's at war," Lauren reminded him, tapping the striking falcons the former Orion officer was wearing on his Imperial fatigues, "and you are a part of House VonGrippen."

"We're not a big House," Nazzien reminded her, "A couple of border worlds and a single starship."

"It's all we need," she countered, "It's better to be for the reds than the blues...or..." she nodded to the Wolves that were beginning to march again, following Colonel Mayfair into the vessel. The Colonel's expression was one of puzzlement as he led them towards the engineering sections, exchanging a look with Lauren as he went.

* * *

Sentinel Station was vast, white painted halls with an almost hospital cleanliness about them. It even smelled like bleach. Stark and sterile beneath over powered lights, there was no life there, it felt cold lacking the sounds and the vibrancy that made Excalibur so much of a home.

Elias marched beside Katz, glancing in confusion at the numerous armed Wolves around them both. They had been 'collected' from their posts in an unceremonious fashion that closely resembled being arrested. Force-marched from the Excalibur despite Lauren's protests, they had been brought back aboard Sentinel Station under heavy escort.

"What's going on?" Elias murmured, looking at the young fighter ace again and trying to adjust the uniform tie that had drawn into a tight knot. He'd been working on replacing a couple of the coolant valves on the zero-point reactor and hadn't had time to get cleaned up.

Katz shrugged, staring about him at the corridors they had been marched to, trying to keep track of where they had been. If they had to escape, then it would be good to know how to get back to the Excalibur. His earlier questions to the leader of the troops had been met with "transfer orders" in voices masked by the respirators.

There was something about the whole situation that made him uncomfortable. He'd been a prisoner much of his life, he knew that a simple transfer seldom involved as much firepower as surrounded the pair of them at that moment.

While his Squadron Leader rank was comparable to a Marine Major, and the senior officer in the group, he had a feeling the Wolves wouldn't answer any order he gave. He was stuck, like Elias, being forced to wait and see.

* * *

Lauren tried to catch Darien's attention as he marched out of the elevators. She waved a piece of paper containing the transfers that Colonel Mayfair had been handed by the Imperial shock troops, but she could tell by the dark expression on Darien's face that he knew. He ignored her as he marched into his stateroom, the blast door slamming shut behind him as the Fida'i took his customary place at the door.

She stopped, looking at Commander Durnham, the holographic officer giving her a concerned look in return. "Excalibur's angry," he said quietly.

"We all are," Lauren replied, licking her lips and turning back to the view port and the station beyond.

Darien fumed, sitting behind his desk as he activated the desk top computer console, accessing the Excalibur's communications and bringing the FTL array online, but he was met by a flashing warning him that the FTL network to Karin was unavailable.

General Iver was denying Excalibur's ship to shore communications, cutting the Highlord off from the Senate, and from Walker.

He set his logbook back down upon his desk, moving it again before he pulled it back towards him, scooping up his pen as he began to make an entry, desperately trying to think of what options were left open to him.

His hand reached out and scooped up the growler phone as he called the bridge.

"Lieutenant," he greeted as Galadriel answered, "Departure stations, set a course to take us away from Sentinel Station..." he let the receiver slip forward a bit in his hands as he pressed it against his forehead. He couldn't simply let General Iver get away with it.

"Highlord?" Lieutenant Galadriel called through the receiver, "Sir?"

Darien lifted the receiver again. "Belay that, Lieutenant, and order the senior staff to assemble in my stateroom."