Sigil of the Wolf - 8. Chapter 8

R-403 Orion Resort - Orentes system

The engines powered down as the small Amsus warship hovered over the stretch of golden sand, swinging to and fro as he delicately came into a landing. Sand whipped up and about, disturbed by the powerful VTOL engines, settling back down in low dunes that were quickly swept away in the rolling surf of the crystal blue sea.

The olive drab metal plates slid apart as the rear boarding ramp descended with a muted thump. Nazzien was first down the ramp his pulse rifle up, surveying the exotic tree line and the single mountain that was the forgotten island's only landmark. He searched for any sign of a threat, cautious as ever.

"You need to learn to relax," Masconi observed as she sauntered down the ramp behind him, pulling on a Marine-issue boonie hat and pair of sunglasses to keep the scorching sun from burning her complexion. She shifted her grip on the submachine gun she was carrying to her other hand as she touched her TAC-link. "Beach is clear, Naz and I are going to take a walk up to the resort..."

"Proceed," Darien remarked from behind her, flipping open crates and fishing through the gear that was always stowed upon the small frigate. He pulled out the temperate patterned camouflage fatigues and opened a storage locker for some paint.

Lauren bounded down the metal gangway from the lounge, relieving Darien of some of the items.

"COB has a couple of his men ready to paint the camouflage pattern on the Raptor." She said, touching his shoulder.

Darien shrugged away from her touch, continuing with his work, pulling one of the Amsus VLR-01 Rifles from the crate and examining it, propping the sniper rifle into a side locker getting it out of his way.

"The quicker he can get it done, the safer I'll feel about this," Darien replied as he walked around the cargo bay, selecting things they would need to make camp on the small isolated world. He left his greatcoat on one of the crates and rolled up his sleeves.

"He's been doing this awhile," Lauren reassured, touching Darien's arm again, "They'll pass right over us and not even know we were here."

Darien stopped his preparations and looked at his first officer, the worry still evident in his eyes. They were still days from Nav-Point Delta, but with Iver blockading the systems between them and the ship, there was no way to link up with the Excalibur. It had been Nazzien's idea to hole up and wait for the Excalibur to come to them, digging in and setting up the portable FTL Comm array and trying to get a signal through to the Excalibur.

Darien didn't like it, he felt uneasy about the place, but he had agreed. There really was no other option open.

COB's men began filing past the armoury, each of them being issued weapons before they hurried out of the ship, a few moving to establish a perimeter while Nazzien and Masconi scouted the abandoned Orion resort.

Darien felt guilty; they were stuck with him now. And even though none of them had voiced so much as a word of complaint at the situation, Darien still felt responsible for each of them. They were there because he had let himself get too close to one of his men. A man that had been hurt for being too close to him.

Lauren shook her head as she popped on her fatigue cap, pulling her hair through the back of it. "They worship you," she said in a low tone looking at the man as they walked past the greatcoat he had draped on the crate, each of them surreptitiously touching it, hoping some of Darien's legendary luck would rub off on them.

Darien gave her a sceptical look.

She nodded. "Have you seen how they look at you?" she pressed, "They're honoured to be here, helping you do the right thing." She unfolded the fatigues Darien had pulled out of the crate, tapping the VonGrippen striking falcon. "This is yours now, and it's all they have. Do you understand?"

Darien nodded, remembering another person telling him something similar. He took a deep breath, shrugging on the revolvers and tying the holsters to his belt so they sat snugly against his sides. He gave her another cold look as he turned and walked down the ramp to the sand.

"He okay?" Katz asked from the darkened recess of the other gangway.

"The Highlord," Lauren said pointedly, "Is concerned about his men." She tossed a set of fatigues to the pilot. "You should unload the Sentry guns, when Masconi calls in you'll have to help set them up around the resort."

"Yes, Commander!" Katz replied, sarcastically tossing a salute in her direction, confused by her sudden hostility. He chalked it up to the heat that was already approaching sweltering, especially to someone Karin-born and used to near perpetual winter. He mopped his forehead and set about unpacking the deadly sentry guns that would keep them protected on the ground.

Lauren shook her head at the cocky pilot. He was so like Kendrick at times. She hadn't meant to be short with him; it was just... she rubbed her tired head. She really needed to get some sleep and not think about things for a while. Focusing back on what she was doing, she fished out a couple more uniforms, returning up to the main deck of the Raptor. She tapped on the door to the Captain's Cabin and waited a minute before poking her head around it and looking at the sleeping young men. Elias was curled into a small ball on the bed, wrapped up in Darien's old Afghan; Kyr was asleep in the chair, his head on the edge of the bunk, snoring and gwuffing occasionally.

She smiled tightly as she entered and touched the doctor lightly on the shoulder.

"Kyr?"

The doctor flicked open an eye, offering a loud yawn as he smacked his lips a couple of times. He looked out of the view port at the brilliant sunshine and the blue sea.

"Where are we?" he asked, getting to his feet and stretching, padding to the window.

"Orentes," Lauren said, pausing to brush Elias's hair from his eyes, the young man rolling over and curling tighter into his blankets. "There's an old resort here, the Orions used to run it before the fighting began in these sectors. It's been abandoned for about six months..."

Kyr nodded. "The warm climate should do him some good," he said, looking back over his shoulder sadly at Elias.

"Is he going to get any better?" Lauren asked hopefully.

Kyr shrugged. "I hope so," he replied.

* * *

"It's beautiful," Masconi gasped, ducking under a tree that reminded her of a palm with its branches twisted in odd angles, climbing the wooden steps to the first tier of the resort. It was a wondrously complicated network of houses on stilts, crafted of wood and straw, linked by wooden bridges that climbed through the trees to different levels.

Her first thought was of a book she'd read as a little girl, Robinson Crusoe, but on a grander scale. The little huts seemed well appointed and in good condition. Only a couple had collapsed after the monsoons.

She'd been to a place similar on Tempus III, a wonderful place to rest and unwind from the rigors of the harsh training program all Kardiac citizens were required to undergo. It was a place to get away from the uniform, the regulations and the duty and just be a person again.

Nazzien opened one of the little hut doors and poked his head in, nodding to himself as he came out again. "They left in a hurry, everything's still in place."

Masconi looked at him, and glanced behind her over the breathtaking view of the beach. "How can you not find this beautiful?" she demanded.

"I do," he replied, "It's a beautiful business locale, too bad about the neighbourhood..." He swatted a small flying lizard that had taken to investigating his head, growing frustrated when he missed the fast-moving creature.

"But this is beauty," she said, pulling a delicate flower off of a vine and twirling it between her fingers watching its petals flare with colour, "It's got to be more than just business for you..." She looked up at him and pursed her lips, "Do you find me a beautiful business locale?"

Nazzien stopped cold, considering how fast he should run away from that question.

Masconi was a crack shot, and that was an Imperial pulse weapon she was carrying; he'd probably be riddled with holes before he could get ten feet.

"We should check the generators," Masconi laughed, teasing him as she dropped the issue, clambering up the steps to the next level of the multi-tiered structure, swaying across the rope bridge towards the largest of the wooden buildings. It was a broad open-air deck that had once been a restaurant or a bar by the looks of it. She paused, giving an approving nod to the selection of bottles behind the bar.

Nazzien rolled his eyes at the selection: nothing of quality there at all. He flipped back a woven straw mat and lifted a trapdoor, pointing to the pair of old style generators that looked in reasonable condition.

"We have power, and, from the looks of those cisterns," he gestured, "We have plenty of water as well." He walked down the ladder, setting his rifle aside as he examined the generators.

Masconi smiled as she turned to report in with the ship, stopping again to look at Nazzien. "We're sharing a hut, right?"

Nazzien glanced up from fiddling with the generators. "We are?" he looked at her blankly.

"That wasn't a request," Masconi said determinedly. She shook her head at the Orion. There were times, even after two years, where he was still blind to the obvious.

* * *

Darien stepped away from the compact FTL comm. unit they had set up to one side of the restaurant. It had unfurled into a self-positioning dish currently on the roof of the structure, aligning itself to send the communications through hyperspace.

It wasn't a new technology; messages plied hyperspace as easily as ships did. They traversed greater distances, as they didn't have to fight the tidal currents of the chaotic space, and offered near instantaneous communications with those that could afford the systems.

That fact alone gave Iver an edge; he was able to intercept any inbound communication to Karin at the primary Communications station, effectively cutting off any inbound signal to the world. Darien hoped that once Zoran was in position, with the Hades's own FTL transceiver, he'd finally be able to get a message through to Walker.

While Iver could block his inbound communications, it was impossible to pinpoint the source of a hyperspace communiqué. The very nature of the unstable dimension made triangulating a source so complicated that the resources were beyond anything Iver had at his disposal; the only computer capable of the feat outside of the Polian Alliance was aboard the Excalibur.

The check-in with the Excalibur and the fleet had made him feel better, more in control of the situation they were in. While Iver garnered a great deal of open support, several of the fleet's top commanders, who had come to trust Darien's leadership, had agreed to help in whatever fashion they could. Captain Zoran had manoeuvred his taskforce on a steady course to Karin, collecting ships as he went, relaying messages to other ships in the fleet while the Raptor crew awaited the Excalibur's arrival.

Commander Durnham was repositioning to make a series of jumps to reach the Orentes system, careful to hide the ship amidst a convoy of Orion freighter traffic.

The holographic Commander seemed to be enjoying his stint in command of the ship, which in a way pleased Darien as well. He'd come to trust Kit a great deal; Darien had found a friend and confidant in the AI.

He sat down at one of the tables, looking over towards a separate tier, where one of the Sentry guns stood a lonely vigil over the resort. It seemed oddly out of place in such a solitary and quiet setting. A weapon of war, with little flitting lizards buzzing between the hanging flowers that grew up around the platform.

"Skipper?" COB set a plate of food down in front of him, and Darien paused as he stared down at the gourmet platter.

"This isn't Marine C-rations." He observed.

"This place is well stocked with canned goods," COB explained, "figured, why eat crap when we don't have to, sir."

"Good plan," Darien nodded examining his plate, "are the men settled?"

"Aye Skipper," the COB nodded, the creases around his eyes tightening, pleased that the Highlord had bothered to ask. Any officer that was considerate to think of his men before he had eaten cared a great deal about the people under him.

"The Wing Commander and Lieutenant Nazzien took hut four," he pointed up towards the row of huts in the upper tree line, "The XO took nine, they put Lieutenant Elias down in number sixteen, with you sir."

"Thanks," Darien nodded his gratitude. There was never any comment made, nor a disapproving look, from any of his men when it came to Elias; they seemed to understand and simply accept the relationship as part of everyday life. He had almost expected something to be said; the Amsus regime he'd lived under had imposed such strict rules on morality, choking the life out of the people forced to live in the perfect mould of lives and careers, families. Yet no one said a word, they left them alone, as if it were perfectly acceptable in their minds.

COB paused, hesitantly, "Your bodyguard... The Fida'i insisted on finding his own place to sleep." He nodded over to where James stood, his back resting against a wooden wall, watching protectively over Darien.

The COB saluted, marching off and nodding to one of the upper tiers where one of his men stood watch. Darien sighed as he picked at his food, watching the sun setting across the sea. They were stranded on a tropical island, lost on an endless ocean; there were worse places they could be, he supposed. Movement in the grass caught his eye as a small, wingless birdlike creature picked its way through the undergrowth, fishing for stray flying lizards that had settled on the ground.

"You were supposed to stay on the Excalibur," Darien said without turning; he knew James could hear him.

"My task is to protect you, I am not here to follow your orders." James said evenly, and the man walked around to sit across the table from Darien, rotating the chair and straddling it as he rested his arms crossed on the back, his fingers stroking the hilts of the deadly knives in their wrist sheaths. Even seated the Fida'i was poised like a tightly wound spring.

Darien met the other man's green eyes, leaning forward, "I thought I was the Aga- Khan."

"Where you lead the Fida'i will follow," James stated calmly.

"Right," Darien folded his arms, knowing the argument was pointless; he couldn't stop James from doing what he was going to do. The man was obviously as singularly minded as Darien was himself. He shook his head as he got up, tucking another forkful of food into his mouth as he popped the plate back on the bar, setting off across the network of walkway bridges to find hut sixteen.

The rustlings of the trees around him was almost peaceful as he walked along the spongy wood boards of the walkway, dropping down a set of steps and passing under a broadly fanned tree that swayed in the evening breeze. He smiled when he recognized the doctor walking back up towards him.

Kyr looked exhausted, meeting the Highlord's eyes and inclining his head.

"That way." He said simply, pausing as his head cocked around, his eyes gleaming in the twilight, following a swiftly running creature that had burst along the rail trying to find cover. The doctor's hand snaked out to catch the creature neatly, picking it up and tilting it from side to side.

Darien cleared his throat. "Uh... Doctor?"

Kyr blushed, tucking the lizard behind his back. "I'm sorry, sir, force of habit, I'm very tired. Perhaps I should go and eat..."

Darien chuckled as he shook his head. "Barbecue Lizard right?"

"Why on earth would I burn it?" Kyr shook his head, pulling the lizard out again, the creature puffing up its throat sack indignant at the suggestion that it would be eaten.

"Right," Darien held up his hands, "Bon appetite. I for one should..." He pointed down the walkway towards the cabin Kyr had indicated.

They parted, Darien walking along the bridge, the sounds of the jungle in the background, the daily struggle of creatures surviving on instinct. He marvelled at how often he forgot how alien Kyr was at times, artificially created by the old Empire... geneticists playing god and still somehow failing to upstage the creator.

He found the small cabin, smiling at the cosy construction as he came around to the front balcony, stopping when he saw Elias leaning on the rail. The young engineer's hair was blowing in the wind as he rested simply, the Imperial uniform Iver had stuffed him into hanging open, and the stained shirt was still there, a reminder of the abuse he had gone through.

He turned, the blue eyes questioning. "H-Highlord Taine?"

"You don't call me by my title unless I've done something wrong." Darien smiled as he rested against the opposite rail, the lights flickering to life as the young technician Firlotte got the generators up and running. "Normally you just call me Darien."

"I'm sorry," Elias replied, his brow furrowing as he struggled to remember, looking back towards the trees and the glittering lights of the other cabins. "My name's Matthew..."

"I know," Darien said, "I typically call you Matty or..."

"Please," Elias said turning back and holding up a hand, "I..." he sighed as his head sank forward, his hair sliding to shield his eyes, "Doctor Kyr was trying to tell me... we were involved..." He said the word awkwardly, as if for the first time weighing how it sounded.

Darien folded his arms and blinked back his own emotions; he hadn't realized how hard it would be. Part of him had hoped something of Elias had survived the virus, but the boy across from him was terrified, losing everything and suddenly having it all thrust back upon him. It had to be overwhelming.

"Look," Darien said softly, "I'm going to do everything I can to try and get your memories back..."

"The doctor doesn't think that's likely," Elias replied in a tired voice.

"He didn't say that."

"He didn't have to," Elias said matter-of-factly, "Every time I bring it up he gets a sad look."

"You always were too smart for your own good," Darien said as he gave a small shrug, "Still, it doesn't change the fact that I have to try."

"Because you love me." Elias replied, frowning again back at the forest.

"From the first moment I realized you were sneaking into my bunk back on the Dragonfly," Darien crossed to rest a hand lightly on Elias's shoulder, feeling the young man stiffen, then sigh, curling tightly against him.

"You were the one holding my hand the other night..." Elias said quietly, slipping instinctually into the niche created by Darien's ribcage and arm.

"I didn't want to lose you," Darien said, shrugging, "look, if this is too much for you, I..."

"Don't let go!" Elias said, sounding scared and gripping tighter to Darien, smelling the warm sweat and those other smells, almost familiar, textures he knew he should know, and wanted to remember so badly, his fingers running over the bright crimson embroidery, they meant something.

"I'll never let you go." Darien reassured, kissing the blonde hair gently.

They stood like that, watching the sun go down, Darien feeling the well of emotions he tried so desperately to keep buried inside him begin to slip. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, trying to pull it back under control. General Iver had succeeded where the Amsus, the Polians and the Eelim had failed: he was scared, scared of losing the one thing that meant everything to him.

* * *

"I got it working," Firlotte said, slipping down the ladder from the Raptor's upper crawl space, "I had to beat it with a spanner, but it should hold for now."

Katz bit his lip, standing by the corridor that led to the cockpit, "Thanks, I was starting to wonder if I was going to cook."

"Par-boiled Katz... sounds like something you'd buy at an Orion Restaurant,"

Firlotte grinned, "Air conditioning wasn't an Amsus priority," he re-tucked his red hair back under his ball cap, the tufts still poking out at the back and the sides, "But it should keep it cooler here when you try to sleep."

Katz's smile deepened, and Firlotte shook his head, "I'm not keeping you warm."

He said blushing a bright red, so bright his freckles stood out on his nose.

"I wasn't..." Katz flushed red as well, "How'd you know I was thinking that?"

"I'm starting to know you," Ashley said, folding his arms and tucking his spanner back into a pocket of his coveralls, "You get this curl to your lips and your eyes get distant whenever you're thinking about me in some kind of bizarre sexual fantasy of yours."

"I can't help it?" Katz said, gesturing to the gangway that led down to the cargo bay, "Cigarette?"

Firlotte rolled his eyes, "One, you know it's illegal, two, you never have any so we're always smoking mine... And three you're just going to use it as an excuse to make some lame pass at me that I am going to have to feebly fend off." He got up and started down the gangway, sighing as he felt Katz's arms go around his slender waist.

"Stop it," he said, leaning back and feeling Katz pressing against him, "You're a senior officer..."

Katz leaned in to kiss the nape of his neck, and he sighed again tilting his head to let Katz kiss his pale skin, "It's not going to work, I'm not giving in..." he turned, "besides..." Katz kissed his lips and Firlotte just stood there passively resisting by refusing to reciprocate, "you wouldn't respect me in the morning."

"You know I would," Katz insisted, kissing him again.

"Yeah, and if I believe that... you wouldn't happen to have this great palace on Karin for sale would you? I mean if I'm that gullible, I'd be stupid enough to fall for anything." He held up the cigarette, amusement in his eyes, "Smoke break?"

They walked through the cargo crates, out to the rear ramp that faced the sand, the surf crashing and rolling in the background on the warm night. They sat, like they always did, next to each other, Ashley sure to press up against Katz's side so that they were always touching. He pulled out his lighter and sparked it up, taking a long drag on the precious cigarette and passing it over to his friend.

Katz accepted it and puffed a couple of times, handing it back, "I don't know why it's illegal." He coughed a little and smiled.

"Because it'll kill you." COB stood at the foot of the Ramp looking up at the two young men, his hands on his hips looking stern and sour.

Katz yipped and tried to hide the cigarette behind his back, while Ashley rolled with laughter.

"Stop laughing Engineer's mate!" COB bawled at him, "it's not funny."

"It is," Firlotte chuckled, falling backwards to lay on the ramp, "'Cause you sound like such a hypocrite right now, Chief."

Katz, still with the cigarette behind his back, looked at his insane friend and back at the COB.

A smile creased the stern features as the chief looked about him and fished a fat cigar out of his pocket, "I know, but it was funny to watch fly-boy over there piss himself."

Katz shook his head as he drew the cigarette back out, "Bastards!" he murmured, taking a petulant drag.

"Come on," Firlotte said, "That was funny, and you deserved it for..." he turned bright red realizing what he was about to say. Darting a glance at the COB.

COB shook his head, "If you two think you're pulling one past me you got another think coming, I know all about Cassanova over there and your little good girl act."

COB lit his cigar, pushing his pulse rifle onto his shoulder as he puffed a big smoke ring enjoying the rich flavour, "You're both pathetic at lying."

"I..." Katz coughed handing the cigarette back to Ashley, "But..."

"Look, if it's good enough for the Skipper, it's good enough for the rest of us. I myself prefer to keep my girls in port instead of trucking them all over known space with me, that way I get to keep them from ever finding out about each other..."

"COB's happily married," Firlotte said nudging Katz, "Don't let him ply you with his bull, he so much as looks at another woman and his misses will have him filleted."

COB chuckled, "Right, this from mister 'don't kiss me I'm straight' up there, talking about bullshit."

"I never said that," Ashley sounded defensive, "Just 'cause I don't bend over the nearest crate for every smooth-talking fighter pilot that comes along..."

"Nope, just one." COB teased, "Anyways ladies, I have a patrol to continue, check on the sentries. You two go back to snuggling and pretending not to like kissing one another." He winked and kept on his way.

Ashley turned to Katz, "I don't like to kiss..." he sighed in frustration as Katz kissed him again. "Look," he continued after Katz leaned back, "stop that!"

"No." Katz said, "You need to stop giving me opportunities to do it."

"Shut up," Ashley murmured, lying back on the ramp again, listening to the sea, "I've never heard that before." He said, changing the subject.

"What?" Katz asked, lying back beside him.

"The sea," Firlotte replied, turning his head to look at Katz again, his eyes darting about scanning Katz's face. He was handsome, he had to give him that, "Not much sea where I'm from."

"You're from provincial Karin right?" Katz asked, "You have that accent."

Ashley nodded, "Nearest sea is frozen nine months out of the year. How about you city boy, ever heard the sea?"

"No," Katz said, quietly turning away.

"What?" Ashley asked rolling up to an elbow, "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

"Not your fault," Katz said turning back, "The city just doesn't hold a lot of pleasant memories for me."

"Slave markets?" Ashley probed, swallowing nervously.

"Yeah," Katz replied, "Pretty boy like me, I was a commodity."

"Wow," Firlotte said, touching the fighter ace's arm, "My mom always warned me to be careful or the slavers would grab me, I thought it was just a story... till I got to the Excalibur and found out how many people had been rescued from those markets."

"Press ganged," Katz said softly, "You know when I first got on Excalibur I thought, 'that's it, now I'm going to work on a pirate ship'." He shook his head, "You have no idea what it meant once Kendrick offered to teach me how to fly."

"Kendrick?" Firlotte asked, "Wasn't he the guy that went nuts and tried to blow up the Polian home world?"

"He trained us to fly, made us into a squadron, taught us to think we were immortal, and then he butchered us... all but me." Katz rested his head back against the cold metal, closing his eyes;"You know the red stripes on the sleeve of my uniform?" He asked.

Ashley nodded; pilots were the only ones on the crew who wore the red stripes on the arm of their uniform jackets. He'd always found that odd, but never asked about it.

"They're supposed to indicate an Imperial ace. One stripe is five kills..." Katz sighed, "I have three."

"That means you're good right?" Ashley inquired.

"It means I have killed fifteen people," He tapped the last one, "You know who I had to shoot down to get that one?"

Ashley shook his head, "Who?"

"Wing Commander Kendrick." Katz replied sadly, "The man who trained me, gave me a future other than being some sick pervert's bitch. The guy who taught me the meaning of betrayal and revenge... and I shot him down on that moon."

"But he committed suicide," Ashley said in confusion.

"When Lauren found him on the moon he was dying, cradling Kardiac's fucking doomsday bomb. He was dead anyway, it was only a matter of time, and I was the one that..." Katz curled into a ball and swallowed.

Ashley reached over him and held him gently, leaning down to kiss his cheek lightly, "you're not a murderer, you had to stop him... all those people."

"I..." Katz turned and looked up at that insistent face, the concern buried in Ashley's eyes, "I wasn't thinking about Polians, or about stopping him. I wanted to kill him, and I did."

"Shhh..." Ashley kissed him again, "Stop it. You're a good person, don't do this to yourself."

* * *

Elias shifted restlessly in the bed, sitting up in the darkness under the heavy mosquito netting that kept the flying lizards at bay. He had tossed and turned for hours, trying to get some sleep, but it proved elusive, and the headache he was developing didn't help.

He got up, fumbling for his shoes, leaving his jacket as it really was too hot for it even at night. He pushed open the flimsy hut door and stepped outside. The Highlord, Darien, was curled up asleep in a hastily rigged hammock between two of the balcony posts. A boonie hat was pulled down over his eyes as he snored lightly.

Elias watched him, the man he was supposed to be in love with. And that was really the only thing that was familiar, the warm sensation and the feeling of belonging.

He smiled sadly, sitting on the wooden bench at the far end of the balcony, playing with Darien's laptop logbook he'd brought with him from the ship.

Elias listened to the night sounds, the lizards in the jungle being chased by bigger lizards who in turn were being chased by giant beetles. He'd seen one of those, a fearsome creature the size of a cat, full of spines and teeth. If he were a lizard he'd be running as well.

There were lights on elsewhere in the resort. Up at one of the higher cabins he could see a pair of figures standing on a balcony talking, the Orion and the oliveskinned woman. Too far to make out what they were saying, beyond a murmur and the odd word, he watched the Orion lean in and try to kiss her, she pushing him back away again, they were arguing... He turned back to the computer, turning it on and accessing the news files. It was funny, mundane things he knew how to do. He knew which file path to follow to get what he wanted, but he could barely remember the man who loved him.

He sat for an hour watching the news reports, keeping the volume low, reports from the Empire about the war effort, and how Darien Taine had been declared a rogue for attacking an Imperial stronghold. General Iver was railing about justice and freeing his crewmembers who had been kidnapped.

Elias looked again down at the slumbering man, a rogue terrorist according to the news, a kidnapper and... Kidnapper.

Elias stood uneasily; it didn't make sense, why would... but pieces started to make sense. The memory loss, the desperate flight. What if he... He chewed his lip, kneeling down beside the hammock, clenching his hand hesitantly as he reached out and touched Darien's arm. Soft and warm, like an instant relief Elias felt a wave of pressure easing and sleepiness begin to fall over him... He snapped his hand back and shook his head. It was like being drugged just through touch. He stumbled back to the small bench, biting his lip worriedly. What was that? He didn't understand what they'd done to him. Had he been tricked? Were they lying to him? Darien wouldn't lie to him, he knew that, or did he? If a simple touch could make him feel... if they could erase his memories... what else could they have done to him? He looked back at the small computer with its news feed paused, asking for any information the public could provide. He chewed his lip as he cocked his head back towards the restaurant veranda, the FTL dish up there silent and still.

He stood again, pulling the tunic about him as he walked along the walkways towards the upper veranda, starting when two eyes glittered from the shadows. He stumbled back a step as the rough-hewn man who always shadowed Taine took a step forward, the blade that had been in his hands vanishing back into the folds of his coat. His eyes narrowed as he eyed the younger man curiously, something unnerving in the way he stared.

The man stepped back, allowing Elias to pass, the frightened young engineer giving him a wide berth as he hurried towards the FTL dish, the Fida'i standing on the walkway behind him, watching him curiously.

Elias ducked down as he reached the wooden veranda, resting his head against the wood of the old bar. It was easy, too easy, and he wasn't sure how he knew how to do it, but he sat accessing the small laptop, linking it remotely to the FTL system, opening a channel to the right location and hesitating. He could send a distress beacon, a simple push of a button and he would have help. And yet Darien had done nothing to hurt him... He looked down at the bloodstained shirt, and felt the bruises on his body. Or had he? Elias was torn; he didn't know what to believe. What was real and what was a chemically-induced feeling? He shut his eyes, gritting his teeth, hitting the transmission button.

* * *

Katz snoozed lightly in the cockpit of R-403, his arms folded and his head lolling forward a bit as he shifted to get comfortable in the unrelenting pilot's seat.

Occasionally his foot, wedged between the pedals, would try to find a better position, and his muscles threatened to cramp if he didn't move.

The incessant beeping, though, was what finally forced the young fighter ace to crack open an eye, sparing a glance at the sensor panel before he sat upright with a curse. The Imperial warship was entering orbit, and had triggered the Raptor's sensors to flash him a warning. An Osterburg Hunter-Killer from the sensor readouts, already deploying its dropships.

Katz had to think, and quickly; there would be no time for the crew to get back to the Raptor, and if he waited the Osterburg would pick him off in a single salvo. If he kept the Raptor powered down and the dropships unleashed their troops, they would be on top of R-403 in minutes, storming aboard and taking the small frigate before he could do anything.

His only real choice was to get airborne, as fast as the Raptor could move in atmosphere. The Osterburg's weapon systems would be useless and the dropships would be lunchmeat.

He fired up the engines, realizing he was alone on the ship. He didn't have time for a full pre-flight, he needed to get up and moving, he could worry about the rest when he was flying.

The Raptor shivered and lifted into the sky with a roar, sweeping its nose forward, Katz made sure to make as much noise as possible as he powered skywards sweeping over the rooftops of the cabins.

Ashley scrambled forwards, looking blearily around him wearing only a tee shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts, grabbing onto one of the chairs as he fell into the gunner's seat, "What's going on?" he asked desperately.

* * *

Darien heard the roar, rolling to his feet as he watched the Raptor screaming overhead, its engines shifting from VTOL to turbine jets as it shot off seawards.

Darien shielded his eyes from the dawn light as he watched his ship heading into the sunrise. His instincts kicked in a moment later as he sprinted back towards the makeshift command centre, pausing long enough to grab his holsters that he wrestled on as he ran.

Nazzien was already up, the Orion leaping over the railing of his walkway, Masconi following him, the pair heading towards higher ground carrying their weapons as they ran, readying for an attack. Nazzien carried the flat black VLR-01 case under his arm as he ran.

Lauren was up on the veranda, sweeping the skyline with a pair of powerful binoculars, handing them across to Darien and pointing. "Ten dropships inbound fast, and the FTL is jammed."

"Ship in orbit," Darien surmised, zeroing in on the inbound ships looking like dragonflies flitting over the waves, "How the hell did they find us?"

"I don't know," Lauren shook her head, opening a crate and pulling out a submachinegun, "COB's rousing the men, what do we do?"

Darien gritted his teeth, shifting looking for where Katz had gone. "Damn." He murmured, "I knew staying here was a mistake."

"We had no other choice," Lauren reassured, handing him an assault rifle.

He looked around him as his men took up firing positions. Even Doctor Kyr, bleary eyed and looking nervous, had found cover. "Where's Elias?" he murmured.

"I don't know," Lauren said as she tried her TAC-link to find the missing engineer.

Darien turned the weapon in his hand and checked the clip, looking back at the jungle. There really was nowhere for them to run. Iver's Marines would make short work of fleeters in a jungle; the odds were stacked squarely against them.

He slammed the rifle down, reaching for a TAC-link and switching to a general channel. He drew a tight breath and forced himself back to a centered calm, "This is Highlord Darien Taine of the House VonGrippen," He bounced on the balls of his feet, a slight smile on his face, hand resting on his ear, "I'd like to welcome you to Orentes, gentlemen." He waited patiently.

"Highlord Taine," the reply crackled, Colonel Evans's voice sounding smug, "I suggest you tell your men to stand down, my forces will be landing shortly in significant numbers."

"And I have a Raptor airborne," Darien replied looking skywards again, "Which can probably shoot all ten of your dropships down before they can land, unless you would care to produce some fighter assets that you have squirreled away?"

"I have an Osterburg in orbit with orders to destroy the island if your ship opens fire." Evans chuckled, "And I fear that would put an end to our conversation." his voice turned cold again. "We both wish to avoid bloodshed here, Highlord."

"Call off your dogs," Darien demanded, "And we can negotiate."

He zeroed the binoculars in again and watched all but one drop ship peel off, heading back towards space at a significant clip, the Raptor shadowing the dropship on its approach, Katz literally closing to point-blank range, flying in perfect escort formation.

"You're going to negotiate?" Lauren asked, watching as COB and a couple of his crew ran up the wooden steps to take up firing positions guarding Darien's position.

"We're outgunned," Darien observed, "They can't land troops with the Raptor, but there's nothing stopping them from bombarding this entire island out of existence if we try to resist them. We're at a stalemate and I'm buying time."

"Excalibur." Lauren nodded realizing Darien's plan.

"Exactly," Darien nodded, watching as the dropship swept up and extended its landing gear, bouncing and rolling forward on its landing gears to stop in the middle of a small clearing that had once been a garden for the resort.

R-403 swept up, the pale brown and olive green camouflage made him look so strange as his wings swept up and locked and his landing lights flicked on, touching down back on the beach where the makeshift landing pad had been set up.

Darien gripped the wooden rail, staring down over the Imperial dropship disgorging its platoon of Wolves. The heavy assault troops had painted their armour in a camouflage pattern but there was no disguising a walking tank. They began establishing a perimeter around the heavily armoured dropship in readiness for trouble. Lt. Colonel Evans was the last down the ramp, looking out of place amidst the warriors in his polished uniform, leather trench coat and high peaked cap.

A crackle from Darien's TAC-link told him that Nazzien had a clear shot. He smiled at the efficiency of his Weapons Officer. With Masconi playing spotter, Nazzien had taken a sniping nest and was sighted in to kill Evans at a signal from his commanding officer, a simple hand gesture and an inclination of his head a certain way.

"I'm here Highlord," Evans called up to the veranda high above him.

Darien stared down and nodded, crossing his arms to rest them lightly stroking the handles of his revolvers, easing them in their holsters. "What do you want?" Darien demanded.

"You sent me on a merry little chase, Highlord," Lt. Colonel Evans walked across the small clearing, removing his black peaked cap and tucking it under his arm, his Marines parting to let him through.

"I was always good at hide and seek," Darien remarked, "Came in handy when I was hunting down opportunistic bastards seeking to exploit the Imperial people."

"Indeed," Evans sat down on the small tree stump and looked around him at the tropical resort partially overgrown by jungle brush, "Interesting choice of locale Highlord, it says a lot about you..."

"You're not here to discuss me." Darien said, shifting his stance and looking out at the dropship and the troops around it.

"No," Evans admitted, "I am just here to collect a bit of Imperial property and I will be leaving again. I really have no interest in you."

"Excalibur..." Darien murmured, looking skyward.

"Yes," Evans said with a smile, "Excalibur will come..." his smile deepened wolfishly, "I am counting on that. But no, you can keep your ship, with General Iver's blessing. I just want your guarantee that you will leave Imperial territory and carry out your mission."

"What's the matter?" Darien demanded, stepping forward angrily, "you don't like me interfering in your little torture sessions?"

"Enough," Evans laughed coldly, "You can't bait me, Highlord, your ship will be here soon, and you are going to follow Walker von Karin's orders to the letter, departing Imperial territory and bringing war to the Amsus. Clearing a road to Earth. For the Empire..."

"I am not going to stand by and allow General Iver to..." Darien began.

"The General is simply a patriot," Evans said, scanning his surroundings, "It takes a different breed of man to torture an innocent boy," his eyebrow lifted in amusement.

Darien's pistols snapped from their holsters, the hammers back, the cylinders positioning a pair of deadly rounds waiting to be unleashed as he zeroed them in on the centre of the Colonel's forehead. "That was a mistake."

Around him his men tensed, Lauren easing her gloved hand on the pistol grip of the pulse rifle. Darien's eyes scanned the scene quickly, picking out James standing in the lee of the drop ship, five feet from a Wolf completely oblivious to the Fida'i's presence. His coat had been cast aside and the black armour adapted to the surrounding underbrush. Darien knew that the only reason he saw the assassin was because James wanted him to know he was there.

Evans stood, dusting off his leather trench coat as he set his hat back on his head, unconcerned about the guns pointing at him. "Speaking of property, I am here to collect the young man in question."

Darien's pistols never wavered. "You can't have him." He said firmly, gritting his teeth.

"Really?" Evans smiled, as one of the Wolves nodded to the right of the clearing, the young man stepping into sight from the underbrush, looking confused and frightened. He spared a glance up at Darien, his eyes pained, as he entered the perimeter of Wolves.

Darien lowered the revolvers, staring in shock. "Matt..."

"No Darien," Elias called, looking back up at him, "You're going to have to let me go."

"No," Darien replied firmly, his grip tightening on the pistols.

"Don't," Elias repeated, firmly staring firmly back up at him, "They agreed, if I go with them willingly they wouldn't kill you and your men. This is for the best."

Evans smiled and nodded for one of the heavily armed Wolves to escort the boy up the ramp into the drop ship. "How do you think I found you, Highlord?" He asked, chuckling, resting a hand on Elias's blonde head, "It seems your kidnapping attempt of our young Prince failed."

Darien's revolvers lifted again, anguish twisting his features as he took a dangerous step forward... "Do it." Evans urged, backing slowly towards the dropship hatch, "Please, I'd love for an excuse to wipe you and your pathetic House out..."

"We have more dropships inbound." Lauren hissed, gesturing to the sky, the bright fire trails showing the hot approach.

Darien glanced upwards, recognizing the vapour trails that escorted the dropships, F-120 support fighters. There was only one faction that used F-120s, the Kardiac Marine Air Wing. Excalibur had entered orbit.

"You are out of time," Darien gestured up to the sky.

Evans looked up and turned. "No, Highlord, I have plenty of time." He looked back at Darien, "Plus I doubt sincerely you would open fire on me while I am carrying such a valuable cargo." He shook his head, stepping inside the small ship, "really Highlord, you were simply in the way. Once this is all over, you, your ship and your crew can go back to doing what you do best...serving the Empire."

Darien slammed his revolvers back into their holsters in frustration as the dropship shifted to take off, rocketing towards the sky.