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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Sigil of the Wolf - 24. Chapter 24

Friendship is a debt unpaid.

~ Taïrian proverb

R-403 - Isoi System

Darien was awake when the alarm began; it took him a couple of seconds to walk into the cramped cockpit of R-403. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder, taking his seat, and glancing over at Mayfair sitting beside him warming up the ships weapon systems.

"Hyperspace event," Mayfair reported, gesturing with his hand, "At about where the outer BARCAP should be. No IFF."

Darien was thankful to see the collection of troop transports beneath them; at last his pilots were getting some proper rest. He checked the sensor display beside him and pitched the Raptor about to meet the threat.

The war machine rolled easily. He was eager, and Darien wondered if there wasn't something to Elias's theory that all ships had a spirit of sorts. "Do we have a read on it?"

"Not clearly," Mayfair responded, "Too small to be a capital ship. And an Amsus recon patrol wouldn't fly like this." He gestured to the LADAR system that was displaying the erratic course of the inbound ship.

"Amsus wouldn't be able to detect us at that range," Darien observed, "and this ship's heading right for us."

"Imperial?" Mayfair asked frowning, "Too big to be a fighter, too small for a corvette."

"A shuttle or a drop ship," Darien frowned, reaching out to bump the throttle up, bringing the Raptor on an intercept course, "It could be from Excalibur."

"Makes sense," Mayfair replied, slipping on a headset, "Unidentified vessel, this is Romeo-Four-Zero-Three, stand down and activate your IFF Transponder to identify yourself." He activated the master fire control system, zeroing a lock on the incoming vessel they were bearing down upon.

"Romeo-Four-Zero-Three this is..." The voice hesitated, "Engineer's Mate Third Class Firlotte, HMS Excalibur flying... I don't know where the transponder is, Colonel, sir."

Mayfair looked over at the Highlord, who was staring out of the cockpit window as the Raptor came into visual range of the ungainly vessel. Its engine pod was snared in a tangle of plastic sheeting and it trailed a section of what looked like a bulkhead complete with attached wires and conducting.

"What is that?" Mayfair murmured, trying to get a better look.

"Machine shop three," Darien said calmly as he pulled back on the throttle, bringing the Raptor to a stop with controlled bursts of the braking thrusters, confirming it was indeed what he thought it was.

* * *

Docking the two ships took some doing, and finally the Raptor's hatch seal pressurized over the emergency hatch on the Dragonfly's lower hull. A tricky manoeuvre, considering the small size of the blockade-runner and the fact that the Raptor's grappling system couldn't find purchase.

When the hatch finally swung open on the young technician, Darien leaned forward to give him a hand up. "Report, Mister Firlotte," he ordered, glancing at the memory core and projector the young man was carrying.

"Sir," Firlotte tried to salute, nearly dropping his equipment and he abandoned the attempt, "The Excalibur executed an uncontrolled jump to..." he pulled back his sleeve where he had scrawled the co-ordinates with his pen while jumping, "These co-ordinates. Where our main power system was shut down..." Firlotte reported dutifully the events, taking a moment for breath as he rushed to get it all out.

Darien exchanged a look with Colonel Mayfair.

Rikard.

"Denver was Rikard..." Mayfair growled, his fists balling, "I had that rotten bastard..." he turned, his hand slamming onto a crate.

Darien folded his arms, trying to think. One lone Raptor, a fleet of unarmed transports and a handful of fighters were no match for an Amsus battle group, especially not one escorted by enhanced Predators. Even if he could get a drop on them, they were dead, purely and simply. There was little he could do to get his ship back with the resources at his disposal.

Firlotte stood a moment uncomfortably. "I had to jump inside the ship," he sounded apologetic, "It was the only way to get out."

"You did the right thing," Mayfair replied turning back to him, "Good job, sunshine."

"I can probably fix Commander Durnham," Firlotte offered.

"Thank you," Darien nodded to Mayfair, "Order our pilot to detach the Dragonfly and run it over to one of the transports."

"Sir," Mayfair saluted, marching off, while Darien remained watching the young technician a moment.

"Rikard attacked the bridge?" Darien asked as Mayfair departed.

"Yes sir," Firlotte nodded, setting the core down on top of the crate and attaching the projector to the appropriate port, "He wanted something called the Peligian Diary."

The holo-projector spluttered to life and formed a three-foot-high image of Commander Durnham. A single projector wasn't capable of much more than that by itself, it was designed to work in conjunction with a network of projectors.

Even so, Darien was glad to see his friend. "Are you all right, Commander?"

Kit considered his situation a moment, taking the time to remove his glasses and rub them with the end of his tie. "Disconcerted," he replied after a moment, looking about him, "I take it I'm not on the Excalibur; is she all right?"

Darien glanced at the young techie. "From what I know, she was captured by the Amsus; Chancellor Rikard sabotaged her."

"Rikard?" Kit looked away, "I'm sorry sir, I should have-"

"There was nothing you could do," Darien replied, lifting the core and the projector and carrying them up the gangway to the lounge, Firlotte in tow. A couple of the Fida'i made room as Darien set the projector up on the coffee table.

Kit looked worried. "Excalibur's alone."

"We're going to get her back," Darien reassured firmly, looking at the young technician as well, "We just need to figure out how." He sat down, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as he looked down at the Commander down on the central table. "He was after the diary."

"Rikard?" Durnham asked, frowning puzzled again, "But we presumed he had uncovered the location of Peligia, if he was able to resurrect individuals."

"I have my doubts, now, that he does know," Darien replied, sitting down on one of the low couches, "He's desperate though, desperate enough to personally recover it."

Mayfair returned. "I sent a quick communiqué to Lauren and Nazzien, they're inbound on one of the Kardiac shuttles." He sat down on the opposite couch, "I can put together a team, give me some of the Fida'i and maybe a handful of Kardiac Commandos and we could retake the ship..."

"You'd never get close," Darien replied, sitting thoughtfully staring at the hologram, "They have a battle group escorting her, god knows how many troops onboard. If we leave now, we'd be risking the transports, and they have to be our priority." He hated it, he wanted to rush to the rescue of his crew, but there were thousands of souls counting on him aboard the Kardiac transports. He needed to ensure their safety first, not gamble their lives on a futile rescue attempt.

"Well, if we don't move fast we'll lose her," Mayfair insisted, "They'll sweep her of to some unknown base, disembark the crew and dispatch them to prison camps, or to slave labour, executing anyone that gives them trouble."

"Ordessus," Darien said simply, "They are going to take her to a secure location, and they don't know we know the site of their invasion command. He is going to want to study the Excalibur, and that is their primary research facility and staging point."

"How do you know this?" Mayfair asked.

"Xanatos told me," Darien remarked, "he had no reason to lie, and it's the only lead we have."

"How the hell are we going to get her back from a base surrounded by their primary invasion fleet?" Mayfair asked sceptically, "The average Amsus base is a heavily-guarded affair, but you're talking about raiding a principal strategic location, the lynchpin of their entire invasion force."

"We're going to need a lot of help," Darien replied, "We need to get to Taïrian space as quickly as we can and hope to god I can convince the Taïrian Matriarch that we can do this."

"If anyone can, it's you." Mayfair said shaking his head.

* * *

It was in ruins, much like the rest of Karin. The Imperial Senate building had been spared heavy structural damage, but the evidence of the Polian Inquisitor's passage and the heavy firefight that had taken place within the building's walls was everywhere.

From the blood-stained stonework that would never be clean to the bullet holes where the guards had valiantly tried to hold it back, yet more scars had been added to the bloody history of Karin.

Iver closed his eyes, remembering the destruction of the subway line where the Osterburg had torn it apart in its fervour to beat back the Amsus. All those innocent people huddled in the dark under that street.

"Finding the weight of the crown heavy?" Walker asked, standing amidst the ruin of the Senate chamber, picking up a tattered book of Senate procedure; so many hopes, so many dreams of something better. He tossed it at Iver's feet in disgust.

"I don't wear a crown..." Iver said heavily.

"No?" Walker accused, treading carefully around shattered wooden tables, "Well it seems without the Senate, and without the Prince, someone has to step up and take charge. And call it a hunch," he looked at the pair of Wolves that escorted him everywhere, for his 'protection', "I doubt it's going to be me."

"Shut up old man!" Iver snarled looking up at the Archduke, "You can just consider yourself lucky I hadn't sent you here along with your precious Senate." He stepped forward menacingly. "The Prince is alive, and he is here in this city..."

"You don't seem capable of finding him," Walker replied icily, "So what is your next move, General? Declare martial law and be done with the pretence?"

"The Empire is not a democracy!" Iver bellowed, grabbing the Archduke by his lapels and dragging him towards him, his spittle landing on Walker's face, "Your damn Senate would have us on our knees before the Amsus begging to be left alive."

"And your dictatorship is begging for them to kill us!" Walker said, remaining calm, looking into the General's frantic eyes, knowing full well that Iver's control was slipping away from him.

Iver released the old man regaining his composure as Colonel Evans entered the ruined chamber. "What?" he snapped, turning to the Intelligence Officer.

"I thought you should know," Evans said, looking at the devastation about him and back at the General, "The local news stations are broadcasting that Highlord Taine and House VonGrippen drove off the Amsus fleet."

"What?" Iver choked in shock.

"It's in the streets as well," Evans shrugged, "It may have something to do with the fact that there are currently five starships sitting in orbit bearing VonGrippen colours. Captain Zoran arrived the morning of the attack and has been meeting with senior fleet officers."

"But there was no Amsus fleet," Iver accused, "The attack was ground based..."

"The general populace don't know that," Evans replied evenly, "I felt it prudent not to allow word of the Amsus's capacity to bypass our defences and drop troops on our capital world at will to become public knowledge." He folded his arms, nudging a piece of debris aside with the toe of his boot, "If the general populace learns the Amsus have the strategic advantage we'll have a riot on our hands. They'll demand a total recall of our front line forces to help secure Karin and the other Apilon Rift worlds, and we can't afford that." He shook his head "Captain Zoran and his ships aren't denying the reports; it plays into their hands nicely..."

"So you tell them it was the Karin forces that drove them off," Iver demanded angrily, stalking to and fro like a caged wolf.

"We can't," Evans shook his head, "Any move like that will be seen as you attempting to rewrite the events in question in your favour, effectively censoring the news nets, and in the wake of..." he looked about him at the devastation, "They are going to see it as an effort by you and the military to seize control of the Empire."

"I have no choice but to claim that it was my incompetence that allowed the Amsus attack?" Iver growled, livid at the implications.

"Plausible, considering your stellar success with the invasion effort." Walker said facetiously.

Iver's hand snapped to his side arm and drew it in a swift motion, pressing it into the Archduke's forehead, the colour draining from his face as fury replaced it. Evans started and moved forward. "General!"

"Relax, Colonel," Walker said, unfazed by the pistol pressing against his head, "General Iver isn't about to shoot me. If he did, he would have to put on my pretty black and yellow greatcoat and try to convince the Empire that he's a benevolent dictator. You see, unlike Julius Caesar, the General isn't a successful war hero, and no one will swallow lies fed to them by a failure."

Iver's hand tightened on his pistol, his glare dark and dangerous.

Walker matched his stare, daring him to pull the trigger. "You see," he said, looking over at the Colonel, "It's all about which lie they will believe - Iver the incompetent, or Iver the benevolent leader. I think we both know which one they've already chosen." Walker pushed the gun aside. "You're loosing control, General," he looked at the Wolves standing impassively in the chamber, "they're the only thing keeping you in power now, and how long can you count on the support of the military? No, without a puppet Prince to hide behind, your days are numbered."

* * *

The Amsus battle cruiser bore down on them, a massive curved winged vessel that easily dwarfed R-403. A huge mass of gun ports, armour plates and engines, it was the ultimate terror weapon the Amsus possessed, stark and severe in the darkness.

There was a noted air of relief aboard the Raptor as it swept past the row of frigates, its wings folding as it docked with the mothership, pressurizing and permitting the weary crew aboard the Taïrian flagship Hope of the Dawn.

After the ordeal to escort the Kardiac transports, the loss of his ship, the loss of Elias, to see the first striped muzzles, the warm eyes and the proud Imperial uniforms worn by the Taïrians was a welcome sight. Darien tucked Commander Durnham's portable unit under his arm as he saluted the officer.

"Permission to come aboard?" He requested formally.

The Taïrian, little older than a pup, grinned. "Permission is granted for the Liberator of Taïr and his crew."

Darien smiled as they were led through the ship that had undergone many changes since its capture six months before. The Taïrians had begun a long conversion process, tailoring the old Amsus warship to their needs, opening up larger spaces and converting obsolete Amsus systems.

It was a weary return to that ship, Darien slinging his jacket over his shoulder as he led his crew through the decks as they were led through to the large room converted to a CIC, strategic diagrams and maps surrounding them, consoles and repeater displays feeding data around a large holographic situations table that currently displayed the Taïrian battle group escorting the Kardiac transports.

Darien moved into the Command Information Centre, pausing as his eyes swept over the strategic boards, gaining a fast update on the Imperial tactical situation. The beleaguered beachhead was under increasing pressure from the Amsus forces, the reinforced Taïrian lines making do with their smaller fleets and outposts, turning Amsus guns and fortresses back on their one-time dictators. So far the Amsus hadn't launched their Invasion assaults, but it was only a matter of time until the massive armada they were gathering at Ordessus would be turned on the Empire's small bastions, especially after successfully removing the Excalibur from play.

Nazzien rested back away from the others, arms folded, hand resting on the butt of his pistol. Darien couldn't blame him; after all they'd been through they were all growing paranoid. Yet when he looked up and smiled, Darien's head came about wondering what was going on. A flush of pleasure swept through him as he saw his old friend Captain Shale, spotless hand-sewn uniform and a twinkle in his big eyes as he walked into his CIC, a couple of his senior officers in tow.

He offered a respectful incline of his head to the Highlord, and a grin to Lauren, Mayfair and Nazzien behind him. His gaze lingered a moment on the Fida'i James, who kept back and apart, the bodyguard nodding in respect to the Taïrian as he went back to trying to fade into the background.

"I'm sorry to impose on you like this," Darien said, stepping up to the tactical board beside the large Taïrian warrior.

Shale waved him off, shaking his muzzle from side to side, his beefy paw scrubbing the Highlord's head, messing Darien's hair and knocking his glasses askew. Some things didn't change, no matter how much brass was worn on a collar.

Lauren took out Commander Durnham's portable unit and set it on the edge of the CIC table, activating it. Kit formed as he adjusted his glasses and looked flustered, still getting used to the fact that he wasn't on his ship. He took a long breath and stared at the tactical chart, and about him again, a new sense of wonder in his eyes, fascinated, it seemed, by his strange surroundings.

"I take it you know of the situation in the Empire." Darien said, watching Shale nod curiously.

The Taïrian gestured to one of his officers who played the news broadcast for Darien to see. Chaotic at first, the news reports stabilized and began to report of the attack on Karin and the death of the Senate.

Darien stared at the pictures of devastation, feeling the weight of the shock settling in as he spared a glance at Colonel Mayfair. The Colonel stared at his home world in ruins, his face at first white with shock, slowly replaced by a mask of cold fury.

"My god, the Senate," Lauren managed, shaking her head, looking at Shale. House von Taïr had three Senate seats, and while the majority of the dead were human, the Taïrians shared in the disaster.

The stoic Taïrian Captain met the Highlord's gaze and inclined his head again, one of his Lieutenants taking the initiative and speaking. "The situation is worsening, we're not receiving clear reports from Karin as to what is happening. How were the Amsus able to bypass the front lines, penetrate the Sentinel Jump Nexus and make it all the way to Karin unopposed?"

"The Amsus have obtained alien technology that permits them to pinpoint jump troops anywhere they want in the galaxy." Darien explained walking around the map and tapping the Ordessus system, "We believe the Amsus have a Propylon gateway on Ordessus." He adjusted the map and zeroed in on the system.

The Taïrians in the room exchanged nervous glances, the Taïrian Lieutenant spoke again. "Excuse me sir, but they can do what?"

"They have the capacity to transport troops anywhere in the galaxy at a moment's notice," Darien replied, looking at each of them as he straightened up.

"What's to stop them from transporting nuclear weapons?" Another Taïrian ventured, "They could hit any of our facilities at any time they choose..."

"So far there has been no evidence of the Amsus utilizing that strategy," Commander Durnham spoke up, none of the Imperials liking the implications, "But theoretically there is nothing stopping them from doing so."

"We need to hit Ordessus," Mayfair growled angrily, "And quickly."

"That's not going to be easy," Nazzien interjected, uncoiling himself from where he was leaning and nodding over the map, "It's going to be swarming with Amsus ships, not to mention the number of troops they are going to have to have down on the planet itself. Add to that the sheer number of Amsus ships and outposts between us and Ordessus and you have a spectacular recipe for a quick death."

"We're going to have to be creative," Darien surmised, feeling the wave of dizziness slipping in again. He rubbed his eyes and willed himself to stay upright.

Shale grunted his agreement as he stood at Darien's shoulder, licking a long incisor thoughtfully.

"Nazzien's right," Lauren said as she braced both hands on the edge of the map table and scanned the holographic display. "How the hell are we supposed to raid this place? The Amsus have tightened their security, your old 'pretend to be one of their Raptors' trick isn't going to work this time. And even if we did get there, it's going to take a hell of a lot more than a Commando raiding party to hit this place and retake the Excalibur."

"Codes," Commander Durnham walked across the map table and stood underneath a holographic star to get a better perspective. He ducked under it to get a closer look at the planet, "We'd need to capture an Amsus code book."

"Yes, but the new Amsus codes are transponder-specific," Lauren said, shaking her head as she sat down, "Even if we could capture an Amsus ship, we'd need to transmit the correct code for that vessel, and they would make the commanders commit them to memory." She shook her head. "Any code book they would have is probably digital and heavily encrypted."

"Yes," Mayfair said, tapping his chin, pacing the length of the Taïrian CIC, "But where do the codes come from?"

"High Command," Nazzien said with a shrug.

"Right, then where?" Mayfair continued.

Lauren broadened the map to show the area around High Command, "For this sector? Well, they'd transmit the code to Ordessus."

"Right," Mayfair nodded, "After that?"

"Regional headquarters for the various system defence fleets." Nazzien pointed to the strategic outpost closest to them.

"And from there to the ships, right?" Mayfair said with raised eyebrows.

"Well, regional headquarters isn't exactly a soft target," Nazzien said, shaking his head, "The closest one to our position is in the Kingswell system, that's on a planet guarded by the Amsus Fifty-First Legion, not to mention the Ninth Fleet in orbit."

"Too hard," Darien said, shaking his head, "We're not equipped to take out a fortress world." He scanned the map, stopping over a hash marked system. He picked up an intelligence report that he flipped through, smiling as he looked up, "Amsus ordinance depot and communications relay station?" he asked. Shale nodded his assent, "What'll we need to secure that?"

They all turned their attention to the remote system, staring over its limited defences. The data was a little old according to captured Amsus records, but there was no real strategic value to the system. Aside from a problem with local resistance members the Amsus had no reason to reinforce it.

Mayfair shrugged.

"You're looking at having the Raptor jump into the post towing personnel drop pods, one spec op each, say about 100 pods on the hull, wings and maybe a few in the cargo hold." He looked lost in thought as he began to pace again, "Jump in, say hello, request repairs blah blah blah." He waved his hand as he worked through the problem, "Just let the pods go, un-powered ballistic entry. It'd look like a meteor shower to anyone on the ground..."

"They'd have time to get a warning off." Nazzien said, "You'd have a fleet of ships jumping in as soon as we failed to give them the right code for our transponder; they'd nail us before we'd even get into the atmosphere."

"What if they didn't have time?" Darien asked again, shaking his head to keep it clear. He rested a hand on the map as he sank into one of the oversized Taïrian chairs, "As in, what would happen if the Raptor attempted jump into the Planet's atmosphere..." he remembered his meeting with General Iver aboard Sentinel when they had first heard of the Propylon's usage. It was dangerous, so dangerous that many people considered a successful jump into an atmosphere impossible.

The facial reactions of the officers in the CIC reflected that viewpoint.

"The best jump calculations in the world, if they don't put you in the planet's crust, would put you into the atmosphere at jump velocities." Lauren said, trying to pick her words with care, giving Darien a frown as he sat back from the table, "The second you hit the atmosphere, the air pressure would likely tear the wings right off of a Raptor, sending you into an uncontrolled dive." She shook her head. "If I were to give you even odds of appearing where you planned, which is generous, the chance you would survive hitting atmosphere at Mach 100 would be... one in a hundred thousand. Multiply that by the odds you can keep control of the Raptor long enough to land it... one in a million." She shook her head, "It's suicidal."

"For a Raptor," Darien said with a nod, "But what about a drop pod?"

"You're talking about a Marine's wet dream." Mayfair said dryly, "You have a set of Propylons handy we don't know about?"

Darien looked down at Commander Durnham. The Commander looked back up at the Highlord.

"The calculations would still have to be near perfect, sir," he said, "But the drop pods are designed for rapid descent, just at that velocity I don't know if they'd have the time to deploy their braking systems before they hit the ground. Honestly, Highlord, I don't see how you are going to brake them in time. If you attempt to jump the pods into high orbit they'll skip off the atmosphere. Too low, and they'll smash on impact."

"And if I don't want it to survive?" Darien inquired, arching an eyebrow, "What if I want it to last only long enough to give a few seconds of braking?"

"He has that look," Nazzien commented to Lauren.

Lauren nodded, "He has the look all right."

Copyright © 2011 Topher_Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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