Sigil of the Wolf - 29. Chapter 29

Command Bunker - Ordinance Depot A-IX, Amsus Hegemony

Lauren clipped the TAC-Vest closed, lifting the pulse rifle as she followed General Riley towards the entrance of the command bunker. Drawing up short, she listened.

"There's no gunfire," she said calmly, removing the safety from her rifle.

Riley, using the door for cover, leaned his head around, searching the gloom. He ducked back, looking over at the Commander. "Ever get that ominous feeling in the pit of your stomach?"

"All the time," Lauren admitted, Marty was in there... "Every time my Highlord says 'I have a plan'..."

Riley flashed a grin as he nodded, "I like the sounds of this guy," He came around the frame again, covering the corridor as Nazzien slipped inside, jogging a short way up the corridor, hugging the wall and keeping his rifle ready.

"No bodies." Riley observed as Lauren went past him, hugging the opposite wall to Nazzien, advancing a little further into the bunker.

"No blood or bullet holes either," Nazzien called back quietly, "It's like there was no resistance at all past the entrance."

Lauren considered this, watching as Riley flicked on the flashlight attached to the underside of his Pulse rifle, shining it at the reinforced concrete walls around them; no bullet holes at all. She'd never heard of an undefended Amsus outpost.

Riley looked back at the young technician, pulling up the rear with the heavyset Professor. It was too dangerous to leave them behind with the ship, and Firlotte could be useful when they reached the command centre. He was standing nervously, fumbling with his pistol, his eyes wide as he stared at the gloom about them.

"Power's off..." Firlotte said, proving his formidable observational skills.

"It's your call," Riley looked down towards Lauren.

Lauren glanced about her again, the broad tunnels that led deep into the mountainside, dark and still. It felt wrong, and that wasn't simply because it was dark. There should be signs of Commandos, or of Amsus, anything. The command bunker was the primary objective.

She shivered at the cold feel of the darkness, trying to see past it for the danger the hairs on the back of her neck told her lay in its depths. She was in charge, and Marty was in there, and despite her better judgement, she knew they had to go onwards.

"We head up," Lauren said decisively, starting down the corridor.

"I'll take point." Riley said calmly, "You're a..." he faltered, realizing that he had been about to say 'woman' and while gallantry was one thing... he coughed, "you shouldn't be taking risks."

Lauren raised an eyebrow. "This, from a General insisting on taking point?" She stepped back. "Be my guest."

Riley chuckled easily. "The rank's a mere formality," he replied, lifting his pulse rifle and shining it up towards the ceiling, "It sounds cooler in Amsus news reports."

He swept the rifle to, fro, and then up. Amsus Inquisitors were slippery bastards, and they weren't opposed to attacking from un-expected angles. Riley preferred to be ready for anything.

They pressed onwards, weaving through broad concrete tunnels, passing darkened rooms, doors forced in showing the passage of the Commandos. Lauren took a moment to pause, kneeling beside one of the melted locks.

"Imperial breaching charge," Nazzien commented, keeping his eyes peeled, "The Commandos were room-sweeping."

Lauren rose to her feet. "Inquisitor?" She asked, looking at the Orion.

Nazzien's brow creased. "What makes you..."

Lauren drew Darien's useless PKD that she waggled at Nazzien dramatically. "Because if I were an Inquisitor and I needed every trooper I could spare protecting the city, I'd know I was more than a match for whatever was sent into this place."

"How do we kill an Inquisitor without a PKD?" Nazzien asked in a low tone, the sense of the danger they were in dawning on him for the first time.

"The first one Darien killed, he had to do it with his own weapon..." Lauren muttered, thinking back to the Orion guildhall and the fight to save it, "And Darien said getting him to part with it was a bitch and a half."

* * *

Mayfair groaned, coughing as he tried to move. The pain that lanced up from his leg as he shifted a fraction of an inch caused him to cry out, clutching onto the twisted limb, feeling the broken bone protruding through his bloodstained BDUs. His head fell back to the hard concrete, fighting to stay conscious as he writhed in agony.

There was a light scratching, and he heard movement in the darkness; the Inquisitor was down there with him. They'd been grappling when they'd hit the bottom, Mayfair trying to use the Inquisitor to cushion his fall as they crashed into the ground. That was before he'd blacked out from the pain, how long had he been out? How long had it been...

There was faint light coming from behind him, shedding some light on the dusty stairwell, Mayfair's head tilting to look over to where the fallen Commando Sergeant lay in a twisted and bloody heap, his assault rifle still gripped in his hands, the light shining on the area.

Mayfair peered into the shadows, trying to pick out any shapes that didn't belong, stopping when his eyes fell upon the Inquisitor which was pulling itself painfully towards the wall. It was regenerating, and would be upright soon if Mayfair didn't try to stop it.

He yelped in pain as he tried to move again, knowing that he had no choice; he couldn't let that thing get up. He gritted his teeth and scrabbled around behind him, pulling himself towards the Sergeant. The pain was almost unbearable, and he knew he was doing himself more damage by trying to move, but he was almost... his fingers brushed the strap of the rifle, and he strained again, pulling the rifle free of the sarge's death grip and swinging it about to level at the bloodied creature that was hauling itself to its feet.

Mayfair's rifle cracked, blowing out the Inquisitor's kneecap, as it fell back to the ground.

* * *

Lauren's head came up at the sharp gunshot echoing through the warren of corridors. Nazzien was already moving, dodging from stone bulwark to doorway, keeping his rifle up as he ran. Riley kept him covered as they leapfrogged up the corridor, finally coming out into a large sloped stairwell.

Bodies littered the platform, and Lauren drew to a halt as she knelt beside a Commando, a large round hole burned through his chest. Her theory was confirmed.

She looked over at Riley, who was shining his flashlight up towards the ceiling and the upper platforms that would lead to the command centre. A flicker of another light beneath them saw the General swing his rifle down, probing the gloom trying to see where it had come from.

Another shot rang out.

Lauren glanced at Firlotte and gestured upwards. "Get to the command centre," she ordered, taking a side step to peer over the edge, shining her light down on Mayfair, the Colonel laying out in the open, his light shining on something just out of sight beneath them.

"One of yours?" Riley asked.

"Marty!" Lauren called out, sounding relieved and frantic at the same time, the Colonel looking up and shielding his eyes against the bright lights.

"Lauren?" Mayfair called out, as his head snapped back down and he fired his rifle again, popping two more shots off for good measure, "god its good to hear your voice... I have a Quiz down here... And he's pissed off at me."

Lauren nodded to Nazzien who began to advance round the stairwell to see where the Colonel was shooting. "Can you move?" she called out hopefully.

Mayfair shook his head. "Leg's had it..." he flipped the selector switch and poured a burst of automatic fire into the shadows. "Stay down you son'o'a'bitch!" he snarled.

"Do you see its weapon?" Lauren called, shining her flashlight about into the darkness, pausing when she saw the dead body of the sergeant. She swallowed and kept searching.

"He had it when he attacked us," Mayfair called back, "I haven't seen it down... Okay..." he shifted back onto his elbows, "This thing's healing faster now..." He unloaded the rest of his clip into it, pausing a few moments to switch it for a fresh one.

"He's going to run out of rounds," Riley said, pushing aside dead Commandos, searching for the rod-like weapon the Inquisitors always carried. He drew out a grenade and hefted it, shaking his head as he looked towards the stairwell.

"No!" She said desperately. She had to force herself to be rational. Riley had a point - if that thing got up... She kept her voice low as she helped the General search. "We're not that desperate yet,"

"We will be soon if we don't find that rod," Riley replied, getting up and handing the grenade down to Nazzien, "You keep looking, the Lieutenant and I should give your Colonel a hand."

The two officers advanced down the slope as Lauren rooted around, turning over bodies as she tried to find the weapon, the gunfire from below beginning again.

* * *

Mayfair's second clip ran empty. It was taking more and more rounds to keep the thing down. It was regenerating at an exponential rate; soon it would be healing faster than he could put holes into it, and then he was dead.

He fumbled his third magazine, shaking his head as he slapped it home, pulling the rifle back and sliding the bolt back painfully. The creature was twitching again, soon it would begin to stand again and...

A second burst of fire from above him had him cast his head back to look up at Nazzien coming down the stairs, the Orion putting an end to the twitching as he took up a firing position at the foot of the ramp. Another man he didn't recognize in a worn leather coat rushed past the Orion to grab him by the shoulders, hauling him back towards the slope and away from danger.

Nazzien backed up slowly as well, keeping them covered as he fired another burst.

Mayfair shook his head. "It's too quick..." he managed, trying not to scream at the pain as his leg caught the edge of the ramp.

"You let us worry about that," the stranger replied, hefting the injured Colonel up onto his shoulder carrying him as gently as he could, supporting his weight while still hurrying back up the slope.

The Inquisitor began to pick itself up again as Nazzien exchanged clips, pouring more gunfire into it, emptying the clip as the Inquisitor forced itself back to its feet, shaking off the bullet holes as the Orion fumbled for his last clip. The Orion looked back up at Riley struggling with the Colonel, and up at Lauren still trying to find the Inquisitor's weapon.

He turned back and drew the grenade. He needed to buy them time. He pulled the pin and tossed it at the Inquisitor, sprinting back towards the slope.

Mayfair watched as the Inquisitor moved in a burst of speed, knocking the grenade aside, sending it in an arc that bounced off of the concrete wall and clattered under the slope, the explosion sending them all sprawling.

* * *

Lauren came up with the rod, turning in time to see Nazzien's section of the slope give way beneath his feet, the concrete slope crumbling and collapsing down as the Orion plunged with it into the darkness. The slope continued to give way as Riley's foot slipped and fell almost loosing his grip on Mayfair; the two precariously balanced on the edge of the crumbling slope, the General trying to bodily haul the Colonel out of danger.

Lauren grabbed for her rifle, pulling the weapon up and shining the light into the cloud of smoke and debris that had been kicked up by the grenade, trying to catch sight of her fallen friend, or a glimpse of the deadly Inquisitor.

She shook nervously, the rifle swept across the wreckage the smoke clearing, swinging back as she sighted in, relieved when Nazzien stepped shakily into the pool of light. He wiped the blood from his face as he looked up towards Lauren, coughing in the thick dust and looking un-amused at his situation.

It burst from the shadows, Lauren yelling a warning as she dropped the rifle trying to bring the Amsus weapon to bear, the shadow connecting with the Orion as the rifle she had dropped fell clattering to the debris below, shedding light on the two forms as they crashed back into the shadows.

A tortured shriek rose up from the darkness, followed by a sickening snap and silence.

Lauren's rod fell to her side, dropping to her knees as he stared into the pit. To her right, Riley heaved and pulled the Colonel to safety, both men gasping at the exertion.

The Commander turned her head, staring at them a moment before looking back into the murkiness. She got to her feet shakily; she raised the weapon in bloodless fingers, feeling shock settling over her as she went to autopilot. The rod discharged a shot into the pit. The bright ball of light, flashing and bathing the whole area in a dull green light, illuminated the bloody Inquisitor looking back up at her, its coat torn, armour plates missing, chest heaving, the broken body of the Orion at its feet.

Lauren coldly raised the weapon and fired a second time, ending the creature's miserable existence. A cold emptiness inside her, she pulled the trigger again and again.

* * *

It had been chaotic, almost from the moment his dropship had touched down. The perfect photo-op for a city desperate for any kind of good news it could get in the dark times. A squad of Wolves formed up to give the young Prince an escort through the crowd of reporters. Off to one side a pack of Military Intelligence officers stood watching with sheer exuberant glee as the civilian media ate up their account of the 'daring rescue' of the Prince from Taine's 'rebels'.

It was a carefully cultivated story they'd been preparing to fit with the rest of the propaganda they were churning out, deliberate and cautiously raising the profile of the military, injecting nationalistic pride in their House and in the war effort. With the Prince back they could turn the disastrous media accounts of the destruction of the Senate into hope for the future, an Imperial future.

Despite his injury, Edward refused help getting down from the dropship. He eyed the cameras and the smiling reporters asking him questions, straightening his shoulders as he walked without assistance towards the doors. He wasn't an invalid, he needed to come across as strong, independent. He paused again, glancing at Colonel Evans walking a few steps behind him.

"...Your Highness..." A reporter called out.

"...Your Highness!" Another reporter muscled past him, sticking a black recording device under his nose, "Any words for your kidnappers?"

Edward looked about him at the crowd, pushing his black hair back from his eye, fixing both on the camera, yet stubbornly, it slipped back into place. "Yes, I do," he said defiantly, "I'd like to thank all the loyal Karin soldiers and citizens for everything they have done to ensure my safety and my freedom."

"The Prince is very tired," Evans said, placing a guiding hand on Edward's shoulder, steering him towards the doors and the waiting Wolves to form up around them, a protective wall that would prevent any more questions. Edward let himself be guided, walking briskly, flanked by troops as they escorted him away from the reporters and towards his chambers.

Now they were safely within the stone walls of the Karin Fortress, he knew Evans wasn't about to follow through on his demands to see Walker. But that had never been Edward's plan; he had simply wanted Evans to believe he was going to cause as much trouble as possible so that he'd have to remain with the Prince. And as long as he was stuck babysitting Edward, then he wasn't on the ground hunting down Edward's accomplices.

He stood in his chambers, peeling off his dirty clothes and changing quickly. Iver would be down as soon as he could tear himself away from whatever was keeping him. Edward had no desire for the man to see him dishevelled; he wasn't about to give him that satisfaction.

He pulled on the red-collared tee shirt and tucked the Imperial-sigilled hat onto his head, taking a seat over by the window, tucking his leg up and under him as he grabbed a book. Moments later the door crashed open and the General marched in.

Edward didn't look up from the book; he slowly turned the page, finishing what he was reading. Exactly as his grandfather had once done; it said that he was in control. That the intruder was on his time. It set the tone Edward wanted.

"Your Highness..." Iver snarled between grating teeth. The man looked worn, black rings beneath his eyes, the weight of bearing the crown had taken its toll on the 'lord protector of the realm'.

Edward slowly closed the book, setting it aside as he looked up. "General Iver." He replied calmly. The General was in his shirtsleeves, a wicked-looking automatic tucked under his right arm. He hadn't even attempted to dress appropriately.

"You shouldn't have run like that." Iver said, forcing his voice to be just as calm.

"I had little choice, there were Amsus advancing on these chambers," Edward got up, knowing he was half the size of the General, and that the hardened veteran would easily beat him within an inch of his life if he were baited too far. "It was your laxness that permitted the attack. If you had your troops pressing the front lines of the Amsus battlefield instead of playing police officers to your petty dictatorship, maybe it would never have happened."

Iver watched him, his eyes glared angrily, and Edward knew that Iver was at the limits of his patience. Desperate to see his plans to fruition, he'd come so very close to losing everything. That made him dangerous, but easily manipulated.

Behind the General the door swung open a little, showing the Wolves, and a collection of Iver's senior officers and aides awaiting his return. In his anger, Iver had been careless in not ensuring it was closed.

"I want to meet with Walker," Edward demanded, his tone making it clear it wasn't a request.

"The Archduke is unavailable, your Highness," Iver growled, looking about him at the room and back down at the Prince staring back at him, "He's been moved to more secure quarters. If you are not careful, you'll join him soon enough."

"Are we dropping the pretences then, General?" Edward asked standing easily, aware that his heart was beating rapidly, he prayed Iver couldn't sense his fear, "Am I your prisoner or your Prince?"

Iver gritted his teeth. "You are my Prince." He admitted after a long, considering hesitation.

"Are you sure about that?" Edward asked, matching the furious warrior's glare. He felt so small, a little dark haired boy standing before a giant. He dared not show his fear; arrogance and a confident swagger were just as important, at times, as brute strength.

"You are my Prince." Iver repeated, his voice stronger licking his lips and forcing himself to calm down.

"I am your liege lord!" Edward said angrily, knowing that Iver had balked first; he had to gain ground, force the issue... "I am your master." His finger drove into Iver's chest, "This is my Empire!" Edward bawled at him, thumping the General's chest again. The door was open, the Wolves were in earshot, and all were staring as their General bowed his head like a chastised puppy. "I decide what happens, where I go and when I go there. Am I clear, General?"

Iver's eyes began to harden, and he realized the door was standing open; he saw the shocked expressions on the faces of his men standing there, disbelieving that their leader was getting such a dressing-down from a mere boy.

"Am I clear, General Iver?" Edward bellowed, forcing the General's attention back on him.

The General snapped off a salute, like a shiny new recruit fresh from boot camp. "As you command, my Prince!" He yelled loudly.

Behind him the stunned Wolves snapped to attention, black boots ringing on stone as they saluted hands balled on chests, saluting the boy who was king.

"Get out!" Edward snarled, turning his back and folding his arms, taking a steadying breath, knowing that he was gambling with an unstable man... but it was the only way to reach the Wolves. Like their namesakes, he hoped they knew now who was the alpha male.

* * *

Colonel Evans stood in the hall, watching the General as he stormed from the room, a collection of uncertain officers trailing behind him. A few of Iver's senior Colonels were hesitating, looking at each other.

And just like that General Iver's grand revolution had collapsed.

Evans sensed the change; it had been building in the streets, the uncertainty of Iver's suitability. The loyalty of his men had wavered when the Senate had died, and now there was the triumphant recovery of the Prince who had taken Iver's victory and crammed it down his throat.

Colonel James Churchill, Iver's second in command, was amongst the men who remained behind. The Colonel had to be one of Iver's most able commanders; if Iver's support had eroded to the point where a fanatic like Churchill was questioning, then it was time for a change.

Evans was a man who had survived as long as he had by knowing when to jump ship. He looked at Churchill and nodded.

The Colonel eyed Evans with distrust, turning to talk to one of his other officers, the men sweeping down a side corridor and away from the Intelligence master.

* * *

Lauren rested by the shattered doors of the command bunker, watching as the pair of Imperial fighters and the shuttle they escorted made a VTOL landing to the right of the crashed Raptor.

She took a long breath, trying to think of what to say, how to say it.

With the Inquisitor dealt with, they had secured the command outpost without difficulty; the clearing of the remaining ionisation had shown the tactical situation in the city was decidedly in the favour of the Imperials. The addition of Imperial Mechs to the battlefield had secured the victory.

She watched as Darien climbed out of an Imperial dropship, tucking the helmet under his arm as he stared at the smouldering Raptor. "What the hell did you do?" he called lightly, stopping when he saw her face, "What's wrong..."

Darien looked at Captain Shale exiting his shuttle, a couple of his assault troops acting as bodyguards for him. The big Taïrian didn't really need them, but there were few things more intimidating that a trio of battle-ready Taïrians.

"It's Nazzien," Lauren said, her shoulders slumping as she shook her head, "We were fighting an Inquisitor, and..."

Shale closed his big eyes, lowering his muzzle, as Darien looked at his first officer in shock. "What happened..."

Lauren shook her head slowly. "The thing ambushed Colonel Mayfair..."

"Marty?" Darien's eyes went wide; what else had gone wrong because he had remained to over see the drop operation? He took a step towards the doors, looking worried.

"He's roughed up," Lauren said, her eyes welling up as she stepped forward, letting Darien catch her in a tight embrace, "The field medics are with him, it's just a few broken bones, he'll be okay."

Lauren closed her eyes, sinking into Darien's arms. "Oh...oh god..." she coughed, fighting back the urge to cry, "I... I should have..."

"I'm sure you did all you could," Darien said, repeating the words that Riley had said to her only a short while before.

"It was all too fast." She shook her head, trying to find the right words as she described what had happened. She gripped onto his soft leather jacket, balling her hands into the folds of it.

"Where's the body?" Darien asked as he lightly held her, feeling her pain, mixing with his own sudden sense of loss.

Lauren motioned behind her. "He's in there, we couldn't get him out, we need..." She slipped out of his arms and began to run into the outpost. Darien started after her, but Shale's large paw came down to hold him in place, his muzzle shaking from side to side.

Darien looked up. "I need to...I..."

"It is not your doing," Shale said, his voice purring and thick with his own emotions, "Nazzien Kuriel was a warrior, and he died a warrior's death. Do not honour him with tears, honour him with your strength."

Darien straightened up, his shoulders squaring. "I'm going to need some help getting him out of there."

Shale looked at his two guards, one of them issuing orders into his TAC-link, making arrangements.

* * *

Katz found Firlotte sitting on the edge of the topmost platform, feet dangling over the edge as he looked down at the recovery efforts underway far below. His eyes were red, swollen as he sat there looking small, afraid, alone...

Behind the young technician, Imperial officers were sifting through the command centre databanks, Kardiac and Taïrian Intelligence officers labouring to access the Amsus transponder network, preparing to alter the files and insert the necessary records that would get them to Ordessus. In through the back door and right into the parlour of the spider. They were readying the appropriate reports that would tell the Amsus High Command that all was well on Outpost A-IX.

Things weren't well; Gunsight-One was dead.

Katz sat down next to Ashley, both men staring down at the stretcher that was hoisting the body up and out of the hole. Highlord Taine was co-ordinating, Shale watching impassively beside him. The great Darien Taine looked so impossibly small from that angle, standing quietly overlooking one of his fallen, and Katz realized how alone they all were, especially Darien.

Katz felt Firlotte press up against him, and instinctively he wrapped an arm around him. "You gonna be okay?" Katz asked, leaning in to kiss the nape of Firlotte's neck. A move to comfort, no ulterior motive behind it; he cared for Ashley and wanted him to know that he was there, that he felt the loss too.

"Yeah," Firlotte replied, "Are you?"

Katz shrugged. "He was an arrogant, stubborn bastard..." He shook his head, "Made life a living hell some times... but he always had your back." Katz looked down again at Darien, resting now against the wall hand on his temple as he swayed unsteadily. "The Skipper's devastated."

"He's lost a lot," Firlotte replied leaning his head against Katz's, "His ship, Elias, now this..." Firlotte dug through his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, banging one out he stuck it in his mouth.

Katz took it out and leaned the young technician back to kiss him. "I love you..."

Firlotte pulled back from the kiss. "What are you doing?" he asked, screwing up his nose and shaking his head.

"I might not get another chance to say it..." Katz stumbled a bit on his words.

Firlotte sighed and leaned against Katz again. "Shut up and don't be an idiot." He put the cigarette back into his mouth and sparked his lighter, leaning in to puff a few times, before extending it to Katz, smiling a little, "Let's just like each other and see where it goes first?"

"Bi'Cheez!" both young men felt the large hands on their shoulders yanking them up to the platform, and Katz had the shock of his life as he stared into the face of a massive creature all teeth and bristles. "Make yourselves useful." The creature frog-marched them towards the control centre, shaking his head and murmuring about how human boys were so lazy.

* * *

It was sometime in the long night, Darien sitting on the wing of R-403, his back propped up against the khaki-painted fuselage, thinking of both his fallen comrades.

It was still raining, lighter now that the relentless storms had broken, the drizzle plastering his hair against his head as he sat wrapped in his leather jacket, his arms tightly folded, lost in his thoughts.

He was fighting sleep that kept him nodding off as his body's exhaustion was catching up with him. He was trying to think about Nazzien, a close friend, someone he'd bled with over the past few years, but his thoughts kept drifting as he drew closer and closer to sleep.

He could see some of the fires that still burned down in the city, the city he had just liberated, the populace awakening to their first taste of freedom, freedom courtesy of men like Nazzien giving their lives to win it back for those who couldn't fight the oppression that had ground them down over generations.

He listened to the dull rattling, trying to place where it was coming from, lazily murmuring as he rolled over, "You should fix that..."

"If you'd let me get out of bed," Elias replied, curling against him sleepily.

Darien cracked open an eye, his fingers drawing back that silken blond hair away from Elias's eyes, the young engineer wincing at the sudden exposure to bright light, his nose screwing up as he twisted, balling his hands up in the front of Darien's uniform shirt. They'd both been so tired the night before that they hadn't even bothered to get undressed.

"You can get out of bed..." Darien yawned loudly, "Whenever you want to."

"I never want to." Elias murmured, finally opening his eyes and looking up, "I'm happy right here."

"We have duties to get back to," Darien responded, "I have a ship to run... you have to get back to Engineering..."

"No," Elias shook his head, leaning in to kiss Darien lightly, "Not right now, right now we have each other..."

Darien closed his eyes and took a long shuddering breath. "But I'm dreaming..."

"Sometimes you have to dream," Elias got up from the bed and walked across the room to look out of the stateroom windows over the panorama of stars, "Life's a dream..."

Darien sat up in the bed, pulling his legs up under his chin, watching as Elias changed, slipping the dirty uniform off and trading it for a fine white shirt, taking the time to slowly slide it over his milky white skin.

"I don't want to wake up," he murmured, running a hand through his hair, his eyes widening as Elias slipped his dungarees off, kicking them away. Wearing the white shirt loose and the pair of boxers he turned, hands on hips, flipping his hair back out of his eyes.

"Pervert," Elias grinned.

"I like watching you," Darien murmured, "I always liked watching you..."

Elias extended his arms and slid the shirt down of off his shoulders. "Better?" he asked playfully, standing bathed in the slanted light of a nearby star, his golden hair shining.

Darien closed his eyes again, falling back to the pillows sighing blissfully. "I should just quit, load up R-403 and take you far away, to a place where they never heard of war..."

"But we are at war," Elias replied, lifting the shirt and doing the buttons up, "A war that needs you..."

"You used to think that running away was a great idea," Darien said, sitting upright again.

"But I'm not me anymore," Elias pulled on his black slacks, and a black waistcoat, looking like the young Prince Edward standing trial before the Amsus, "I don't even know who you are..."

Darien stood shakily, crossing the room and catching Elias/Edward's hands as they tried to tie a black tie, fumbling it the way Elias always had. Darien looked down and tied the tie, looking into those distant blue eyes. "I'm the man who loves you," he said, drawing the tie up and buttoning Edward's waistcoat for him, "I'm the man who's going to come back to you..."

"You're the man who has to take the road to Peligia," Edward said, his voice firmer than Elias's had been, "It changed my grandfather, and it's going to change you."

"Love doesn't change," Darien replied, reaching up to push Edward's black hair away from his right eye, "It doesn't matter where I go, or who you are, I love this..." he touched Edward's chest, "That's your soul in there, you haven't lost that."

Edward lifted his hand and rested the flat of his palm against Darien's chest in the same fashion, as they kissed gently.

Darien opened his eyes, feeling the water from the fuselage dripping down on his face. He sat up, and reluctantly made his way back inside the ship, fighting his way along the slanted deck to the galley and warming himself up a mug of cocoa. He rubbed his face.

Edward/Elias... Peligia... war...