Sigil of the Wolf - 33. Chapter 33

Hope of the Dawn - En-route to Ordessus

They were cruising quickly, waiting for the jump drives to charge and catapult them on the final leg of the journey to Ordessus. Darien re-seated the PKD under his arm as he pulled the tune-up jacket on. He wanted to blend in, and looking like just another mechanic would get him past the Amsus guards. He pulled a borrowed ball cap down on his head and looked back at his crew.

They were breaking into two teams; he was to lead the primary strike team, heading in first to make for the Propylons. He was carrying Kit in a backpack ready to hack into the Propylon system. General Riley in his ridiculous Inquisitor uniform stood ready to board the shuttle that would take them across to the supply vessel that would bring in the next shipment of slave labour for the Ordessus factories.

A dozen of the Nizari Isma'ili sect's finest were dressed nondescriptly as refugee colonists, each carrying light weapons hidden upon their persons and their black armour secreted beneath their clothes, explosives tucked discreetly into belongings ready to be delivered to their objectives. Each of the squads was under the watchful gaze of a Kardiac Sergeant dressed as an Amsus trooper, reporting to officers dressed as Amsus Sergeants; it was down to the Kardiac Commandos to get the assassins past the first hurdle and let them loose on the Amsus facilities.

Darien couldn't think of an instance where anyone had successfully impersonated an Amsus, let alone an entire strike force. There was so much that could go wrong; he just had to hope they could pull it off long enough to achieve their objectives.

Lauren was leading the secondary strike team, taking her head count over by the second shuttle. There was no pretence with her force, made up of the pilots of Falcon squadron and a squad of Taïrian Special Forces. Their objective was the Excalibur.

Accompanying her, Technician Firlotte looked out of place, awkwardly dressed in marine gear, reminding Darien of Elias when he had joined the boarding party at Eisenhower station. Katz was protectively resting an arm around his shoulders, talking to some of his fellow pilots, unaware of how protective he was being. It made Darien smile, as he looked across the deck to Colonel Mayfair.

Mayfair stood unhappily on crutches, his leg set in a cast. He was unable to go along. He didn't like it, but he and Colonel Ramsey were to co-ordinate the operation from the Hope of the Dawn. He offered Darien a salute, knowing that any objection he'd have to Darien leading the strike team would falter. With the Colonel being out of action there was little point in both of them being onboard ship to co-ordinate, and if they did succeed in the plan far enough to reach Karin, Darien had to be one of the first on the ground there.

"Time to go," Riley tapped Darien's shoulder and nodded to the shuttle.

"Just a second," Darien said, stepping into the middle of the hangar deck. "Can I have your attention!" he called out, all eyes turning to their leader as he climbed up onto the wing of the Amsus shuttle.

"Okay," he looked at their up turned faces, pausing a moment to smile at each of them, "This mission is going to be rough," he said calmly, "It's going to take us right through the middle of the Amsus armada, and into the very heart of their invasion force. But this is the way to Earth; if we do this right, we are going to deliver a crippling blow to the Amsus and turn the tide of the war back in our favour." His gaze drifted from face to face around him. "We're going to get Excalibur back, we're going to destroy those factories, and we are going to turn the Propylons against their masters." He smiled. "I know I should give some kind of motivational speech about us being brothers, and we few, we chosen few... but you already know that.... What you don't know is that it's been a pleasure, a true pleasure to lead you to the gates of hell, now go give it to 'em!"

"Nice speech," Riley murmured, as Darien hopped down from the wing.

"Shut up," Darien smiled, "I'd like to see you do better off the top of your head."

"Oh, I would have done something patriotic, about blood and heroes, you know..." he grinned, "Stylistically." He climbed up into the shuttle.

"Style?" Darien commented, his foot on the ladder, "Have you seen what you're wearing?"

He turned as Shale mounted the ladder. Darien blinked a moment, at first not recognizing the large Taïrian, because he'd dyed his muzzle back to a solid black and had changed out of his uniform into drab clothes. He stepped back to allow Shale onboard, sitting in the crash seat across from him as the hatch closed.

"I take it you're coming too," Darien observed with a smile.

Shale looked up, lifting the tactical shotgun to his lap as he began to load it, never taking his eyes off of Darien.

"Doesn't say much, does he," Riley noted as the shuttle began to taxi towards the Hope's flight deck.

"Oh, he says plenty," Darien remarked, "You just need to know how to listen."

Shale snapped off a yawn, baring his teeth and clamping his mouth shut as he went back to loading his shotgun, filling the magazine tube as he pumped a cartridge into the chamber.

* * *

The transit to the Ordessus system was quick, Darien walking up to the bridge of the captured Amsus transport and leaning over the shoulder of the pilot, motioning for a minor course correction that would see them pass through the middle of the Amsus armada.

The supply vessel wasn't the most manoeuvrable of ships; a small command module attached to a series of pressurized freight containers. The pilot tapped in a course correction, guiding the bulky vessel down and past a trio of Amsus Raptors that were sweeping on a BARCAP of the system, not even batting an eye as the supply vessel slipped past them.

"That's a lot of ships," Riley mused, leaning back on the rail of the upper deck of the bridge.

Darien looked up and out of the angled windows of the transport at the thousands of vessels arrayed at the Ordessus staging point. Battle cruisers and fleet carriers sat within a protective screen of missile destroyers and Raptor frigates.

That's when he saw her, the Hope of the Dawn surged ahead of the transport group, roaring in towards the cluster of vessels surrounding the familiar profile of the Excalibur. She was sitting at rest surrounded by three full battle groups of Amsus ships, all with their weapons trained upon her.

Darien walked to the observation window, pressing his hand against the cool glass, as he looked down on his ship, resplendent and beautiful in the midst of so many ugly warships. She appeared intact, save for large dark burns around the dorsal vents above where the Jump drives would be mounted. A quick glance confirmed the same on the Ark-Royal just below the Excalibur's wing. The kind of burn that would be caused by a jump drive overload; it didn't make much sense - one, sure, but all three? Unless the Amsus had deliberately crippled her for some reason...

Riley whistled, "That's one hell of a ship," he murmured in awe, pausing when he noted the distribution of the Amsus ships, "Why're they aiming guns at her?" He asked, walking down the metal steps and taking a better look over the fleet.

Darien slipped his backpack off and set the core down on a console, activating Commander Durnham as he carried the hologram back to the windows. "What do you make of that?" He asked, nodding at the scene.

The Commander looked down, an infinite sadness upon his face. "She's beautiful..." he murmured, his eyes tracing over the ship from her bladed bow, back along her graceful keel towards her angled wings and her rear flight decks, "I've never seen her before, not like this..." he shrugged. "It's funny, you spend so much time aboard a ship, and you don't think about what it looks like outside..."

Darien nodded in understanding. "It must be strange for you, but she looks intact," they swept along the pre-planned flight course and the Excalibur began to slip out of view, "What do you make of the Amsus?"

Kit considered it a moment. "They are standing by to fire, but holding. It's a standard Amsus siege formation..." he shook his head, "I don't understand why they aren't firing."

"Disabled and under siege," Darien murmured, "Do you think they lost control of her?"

Kit nodded, "It would be consistent with what we're seeing."

"This is going to make things difficult for the Commander's team," Riley said.

"Lauren'll figure it out." Darien replied confidently, walking back to the communication console and setting about plugging Kit in.

Kit adjusted, as he vanished, his projector switching to display the system map filled with red dots representing the Amsus fleet. The Hope of the Dawn and the Imperial-held Amsus transports were lit in green, curving on a graceful course towards the planet.

"Hope of the Dawn was just challenged for its transponder," Kit reported.

"We'll know in a few minutes if this plan of yours works," Riley said, leaning in to get a better view.

"Challenge responded to, and IFF codes accepted," Kit reported, sounding relieved, "We've been identified as a vessel bearing refugee labour to the Ordessus primary factory complex. The other supply ships have been similarly identified and permitted to proceed towards their objectives."

"Time for slaves to get into their cells," Riley flashed a smile.

"You have a malicious streak," Darien responded, "Have you uploaded the transponder virus?" he directed towards Kit.

"Yes, I set the timer for four hours. That should give our teams time to get into position once they disembark the supply ships."

Darien nodded, unhooking the core and tucking it back into his backpack, heading back down into the ship's hold where the other 'refugees' were collected, checking their equipment and secreting it away on their persons.

The citizens of A-IX had provided the strike teams with clothing appropriate for their status, cast-offs and worn clothing intermixed with business suits and professional wear - the kind of things expected on a refugee ship escaping the evils of war and the front lines. It was the first time Darien had seen the direct affects of the war on the people trapped on the other side of the lines, and he wondered how many people were huddled into similar supply ships after losing everything they had, running into an uncertain future.

The Highlord found a place next to Shale, watching as the large Taïrian pulled a heavy coat on to hide his shotgun. The two Imperial officers were doing their best to blend in with the crowd, not an easy task given Shale's size.

Shale gave Darien a look, reaching out a paw to push Darien's hat askew a little.

Darien tugged it straight.

Shale pushed it askew again.

"Stop that." Darien murmured, trying not to laugh as he fixed the hat again.

A sneaky smile appeared on Shale's muzzle as his hand crept up and pushed the hat crooked once again.

Darien laughed, glad of the release as he left the hat as it was. "All right, I'll relax," he said, smiling, looking about the bay at all the young men and women: Kardiac soldiers who had accompanied him aboard the Excalibur on its long trek from Tempus, and Fida'i bravely following their Aga-Khan, not for some lost ideal or religious text but because they followed where he led them. Brave and willing to fight for a simple belief, religious teachings of their orders, it still said a lot that they were there, so far from home, fighting for the cause.

The braking engines fired as the transport entered the atmosphere, the deck bucking from the turbulent ride as it caught air currents for the first time. Moments later its turbine engines roared to life and the supply ship began its final descent towards Ordessus.

Darien closed his eyes a moment and steadied himself, shaking off the wave of dizziness sweeping through him. His hand rubbed the bridge of his nose as he let it pass, pressing his head back against the bulkhead as a flush of heat rushed through his face, lingering a moment before it vanished.

Shale was watching him as Darien opened his eyes, James having positioned himself strategically to shield the Highlord from the rest of the team. Noting that Darien was okay, he sat down returning to sharpening his knife, seeming oblivious to the intense glare Shale shot him, accusing him of knowing something he should have shared...

Darien shook his head, "It's nothing," he murmured.

Shale's powerful hand reached out to pick up Darien's hand by the wrist, both men looking at the shivering tremor that continued, the hand quivering like a leaf. The large alien looked up to meet Darien's eyes as he clapped his other paw around Darien's hand, stopping the tremoring, nodding in satisfaction when Darien smiled in understanding.

He gave a nod of gratitude as the supply ship banked for its final approach.

* * *

Lauren stared out of the shuttle's view port at the Excalibur as it hung in space completely surrounded by Amsus warships. It was at that moment she wished that R-403 had been repaired in time for the confrontation at Ordessus; she would have felt safer having the frigate's thick armour plating between her and all those guns.

"We have to run those guns in this?" Katz ventured, ahead of her in the two-seater cockpit of the shuttle. He glanced back over his shoulder, adjusting the shuttle's course to bring him through the thick forest of ships.

So far none of the siege vessels had bothered to challenge the small shuttle winging through them. It was just another shuttle; in a fleet of that size there were hundreds buzzing to and fro from ship to ship relaying supplies, personnel or orders. Except their shuttle was packed full of Taïrian Special Forces and Excalibur pilots, eager to take back the ship and free their friends and loved ones.

The young technician, Firlotte, was poking his head up into the cockpit to get a better look at the Excalibur as they discreetly made a flyby. Gripping to the back of Lauren's chair he craned his neck, his eyes slipping over the gleaming bladed prow, back towards the dark burn marks on the silvery white hull.

"They blew the jump pods," he said, sounding angry, scrubbing back his stubborn hair from his eyes as he craned for a better look, "Though she has power..."

"That's good at least," Lauren leaned forward wondering at how they were supposed to complete their mission, maybe they could repair the jump drives. She tightened her grip on the seat in front of her, she wasn't simply going to give up, "See a good place for us to dock?"

Katz shook his head. "I could fire the afterburners and put us on an emergency landing on the Excalibur's flight deck..." He looked at the ships around him, "But without a plane crew down there, or an arresting wire, we'd never trap in this bucket of bolts, we'd probably have a nasty introduction to one of the bulkheads..."

"So a full speed landing is out," Lauren said, cursing. She'd hoped they'd be able to get down before the Amsus could bring their guns to bear. "Access hatch, on the dorsal pad where the Raptor docks?"

Katz looked back at her, flipping up the visor of his helmet. "With due respect ma'am, are you nuts? The second I power down the engines and make for a VTOL landing we'd be blown apart by missiles from at least..." he glanced around them, "Thirty missile destroyers."

"Oh, come on," Lauren said resting her hands on the back of Katz's seat in front of her, "You telling me you can't dodge a few missiles fired at you by Amsus gunners?"

"In an F-175, sure," Katz replied, "Last I checked, an Amsus shuttle wasn't quite that agile." He shook his head. "It'd be the same if I tried to make a landing on Ark-Royal or Invincible; we're not going to make it to the Excalibur with all these ships about."

"So we're stuck waiting till the shooting starts," Lauren said, tightening the straps of her seat, "That's three hours from now; it's not going to give us much time to figure out how to get the Excalibur out of there."

"Without jump pods," Firlotte rested his head against the fuselage, "She's going nowhere."

Lauren sat and chewed on the puzzle. "Where the hell are we going to get a jump drive big enough to jump the Excalibur?"

Katz cast his eyes around the scene, pretty sure that if they sailed up to the nearest Amsus cruiser and asked politely they'd get a stout kicking... His eyes settled on the next best thing.

"Would one attached to a Tradeliner be big enough?" Katz asked, pointing out of the Plexiglas cockpit window across to the dockyards where the Shifting Sands sat at rest.

Lauren smiled, looking over the elegant epitome of Nicholas Denver's and, by default, Rikard's over-compensation for his inadequacies. There was something beautifully poetic in using it to steal his greatest prize.

"Set a course for it," Lauren ordered, knowing that Orion hyperdrives were designed to store a redundant charge, even when the ship was at rest, and so her jump drives would be sitting at full power.

Katz swept the shuttle about and applied the throttle, taking it in towards the Orion vessel. With the Amsus warships so focused upon the Excalibur, they weren't paying attention to the forgotten Orion Tradeliner.

* * *

The hatches of the supply ship's hold creaked open on worn pistons, and suddenly they were assailed by an acrid stench in the air. A chill swept through them as they instinctively drew deeper into their coats, peering out into the harsh grey sky of the desolate, wind blasted world.

There was a pallor over the buildings around them, dark, but trimmed with a light frosting of green dust. It almost looked like an old, primitive black-and-white filmstrip he'd seen in school. People bustled about him, all with heads bowed, hurrying to wherever they were going. There was a cacophony of sounds, none of them comforting. They were the sounds of misery and fear. The cold air carried the smells of rot, of hunger, and of death.

Atmospheric processors flooded the atmosphere with breathable oxygen. Once designed for terraforming the planet, the Amsus had put them to a more productive and practical use, scrubbing the pollution out of the air to keep it breathable by its population.

Darien shuffled out, keeping his head down as they were lined up outside the ship, in the centre of a cobblestone square. The gaggle of 'refugees' formed into ragged lines, pushed there by Riley's troopers as they fanned out, everyone collectively holding their breaths and hoping.

Riley had directed the supply ship to land on the lee side of the mountain complex, and Darien could see further down the slopes the massive industrial compound that sprawled out into the wastelands of the Ordessus plains. Built to surround and service the hulking lattice of girders and armour plates, it was easily as big as an Amsus cruiser. An Amsus Hive ship... It sat like a predatory beetle overshadowing the buildings around it, dark an ominous as it ... breathed.

Darien went cold staring at the massive living ship, his eyes going to the trucks driving down towards the hive ship's maw, the open flat beds loaded with fruit and vegetable matter, a steady stream of food being fed to the creature that shifted occasionally, the great egg sacks behind it being cultivated by smaller beetle creatures that swept the eggs away and into factories.

He shuddered as he tore his eyes away from it, forcing him to look over the planet. Mars had once looked like that, before it had been terraformed. Dull red sands and a cold, harsh environment; the sands on Ordessus were green, a high Copper Oxide content, probably reacting to the high oxygen levels pumped out by the atmospheric processors.

He caught sight of another supply ship curling down towards the lower complex and the hive, and he wondered if it was one of theirs.

Shale nudged him, and he quickly dropped his head to stare at the ground as a group of real Amsus troopers escorting a human overseer passed close by, examining the new arrivals. The bulky man, who's shirt was a size too small strained around the buttons, licking blubbery lips as he made notes on a clipboard, examining the refugees as if they were animals, checking their teeth with black stained fingers.

The overseer smiled when a beautiful Fida'i glared at him, no doubt contemplating how he could have her assigned to his administrative staff. Darien almost pitied him the surprise that would come if he attempted anything with the dangerous assassin.

The sound of engines drawing closer caught Darien's attention and he glanced up quickly, realizing that there hadn't been the sound of engines before. That in itself spoke of something being terribly wrong there. He knew that the Amsus were dependant on combustion engines; they would be common everywhere on Ordessus. Why was he only hearing them for the first time now?

The trucks wound their way down a mountain path towards them, Amsus troopers in black uniforms walking in front. They pushed and shoved people as they came. Darien looked about him at the strike team with him, each of them instinctively reaching towards their hidden weapons. If someone opened fire, they'd be revealed, trapped out on the square with nowhere to run.

It was Riley marching down the ramp, the black Inquisitor coat billowing behind him over top of bone white armour plates strapped over the unimaginative uniform. He crossed the windswept square towards the troopers. His hand was tightly coiled around the Inquisitor's rod, a symbol of power, and his only lifeline should his pheromones not protect him.

"Inquisitor!" The human overseer bowed low, his nose almost reaching the ground as he tried to prostrate himself before Riley.

Darien slipped his hand beneath his jacket, tightening on the butt of his PKD.

The 'real' troopers didn't react; their weapons remained at their sides as Riley's troopers took up flanking positions, eyes watching the crowd of refugees. Riley seemed engrossed in conversation; he had the Inquisitor's swagger about him as he directed orders at the Amsus troopers. Obedient, they scurried to obey him.

Darien began to breathe easier as he felt a hand shove him from behind. "Move, imbecile!" Another overseer demanded, pushing Darien forward.

"Take them to the truck," the first Overseer commanded loudly, and something hit the Highlord from behind - a fist or a handgun, Darien couldn't tell. But it hurt. He stumbled forward, clasping his hand to his neck.

"Move!" another trooper yelled, pushing him in the back with a rifle, moving the group forward, herding them all as if they were cattle.

"Not him!" Riley held up his gloved hand and pointed at Darien before swinging towards Shale, "Nor the Taïrian."

Taine felt hands pull him back from the truck, the butt of the rifle again striking him as he slid on the slick cobblestones. Shale caught him before he fell. Beside them the trucks were being loaded rapidly, Riley's trooper climbing up onto the tailgates to escort their 'prisoners'. A few faces of the men and women in the back of the trucks showed they were ready to do their duty.

Darien caught sight of a couple of the Fida'i slipping away in the confused loading, vanishing into the shadows, knives drawn. Darien spared a look at James, the other man giving a terse nod as he too disappeared.

Riley observed the departure of the trucks a moment before he regarded the overseer. "Car," he ordered without offering an explanation. He was an Inquisitor, and the overseer, whilst favoured with limited freedoms, was still a human, and they ranked on a level with rats.

They sprinted to carry out his orders, finding a staff car to be brought around, an open-top jeep that suited their purposes. Riley gestured for the two 'prisoners' to be loaded in the back, while his own troopers climbed aboard riding wherever they could, some on the running boards, a couple sitting on the wheel wells, a few riding on the back. It was typical for Amsus to load as many troops onto a car as they could; it made the usage of vehicles more efficient.

Riley sat in the passenger seat as the driver cut the wheel and the car drove off, heading towards the upper gates that would take them inside the Ordessus central facility.

Darien sat quietly, watching the buildings slip past, built out of the mountain, clinging to the slope by prayer alone in some cases. Ghettoes and slums had become life on Amsus industrial worlds. Much of Earth had degenerated into that state, little more than human meat to fuel the Amsus war machine, helping their alien overlords remain in power at the expense of their own freedom.

He found his hand again straying inside his jacket to ease the PKD; it was a subconscious measure, but dangerous. He forced his hand back into his lap, willing it to be still as they drove past factories and workshops.

He stared in wonder at a Predator assembly line, watching the speed at which the modular components could be put together in the vacu-formed armoured chassis. Rapid breeding, rapid production, the Amsus were creatures geared for the sole purpose of war, and Darien wondered if technology alone would help the Empire win against such numbers.

The jeep swept through one of the factories, under another line, and Darien had his first look at a Polian. The armoured creature, resplendent in gold plating, was carrying his crystalline staff watching over human technicians as they laboured on engine parts. The devilish helm tilted from side to side as he barked orders that the overseers rushed to carry out.

Darien lowered his head again, thankful for the cap pulled low to shield his angry eyes. The jeep passed out of the factory floor and again climbing towards the basin rim of the mountain and the huge black metal doors that were cracking open on immense hinges for the Inquisitor and his entourage.

So far everything looked good, there had been no screams of alarm, no running fire fights. The jeep was permitted through the huge gates the guards marching patrolling the ramparts paying no attention to the jeep as it passed by them and out onto the huge metal suspension bridge that connected the lip of the mountain to the facility suspended above a massive bowl-shaped crater.

Darien strained his neck to get a better view: there was an inactive volcanic basin beneath the facility, factories built into the caldera, tapping into fissures for access to the molten rock and precious volcanic gasses crucial in ion drive construction.

An Amsus Raptor, partially completed, dropped over the lip of the basin, descending towards one of the factories to have its drive system installed, its VTOL drives kicking up dust that blew across the bridge as the jeep slipped in towards the suspended high command facility which had its communications dishes pointing up towards the sky, co-ordinating the Amsus battle front.

This was it, the heart of the Amsus invasion plan. The grand command center for their swift counterstroke that would slay the Empire before it could rise and be any kind of serious threat to their supremacy.

Most of the Fida'i would be slipping away from the trucks by now, heading for factories in the bottom of the caldera, one of them destined to hit the cooling plant that ensured the inactive volcano never erupted. It had the potential of destroying everything inside the basin as well as the facility above it. It was timed to detonate last, but Darien wasn't willing to take chances when it came to ensuring that the Propylons were destroyed.

The jeep entered a large entrance hall and drew to a halt, Riley's troopers hopping down as Riley himself climbed down from the passenger side, squinting skyward a moment as he flashed a quick nod to Highlord Taine, turning as an Amsus Fleet officer swept down the broad steps towards him.

"Inquisitor," it greeted, "Your business here?"

Riley inclined his head. "I have business with High Command," he stated, maintaining a flat even tone to his voice. Keeping it simple was the only way to ensure that they moved freely. Inquisitors never explained themselves, they were superior, their business superseded all others. So far that had been enough, but soon, they all knew, they'd run into a situation where that answer wouldn't get them anywhere.

The fleet officer nodded to the two prisoners. "And these?"

"A technician and a labourer," Riley replied, "They were requested, and I am to convey them inside without delay."

The officer looked surprised, stepping aside. "Of course," he responded, falling into step beside Riley as the group moved inside the facility, passing single pair of troopers as they descended a sloped hall that widened out into a network of rooms built in typically Amsus fashion for defence. A network of nooks, crannies and choke points that were perfect for defending the Propylons once they were secure.

The group moved in silence, crossing a wider hall in the plain white prefabricated structure. Clean and sterile, it reeked of bleach; meticulously clean, it would have been disorienting were it not for the polished black floors giving a visual sense of up and down. Stark fluorescent lights overhead ensured there were no shadows, nothing for a person to lurk in, and Darien idly wondered how James would navigate it, but he had learned to never underestimate the Fida'i's capacity to sneak into places he didn't belong.

They entered a support chamber, banks of elevators providing access to the lower levels, and a low security desk sitting squarely before them. Riley moved towards the first.

"Halt!" The voice stopped them short as they turned to face the Inquisitor rising from behind the high bank of repeater displays at the security desk, his rod in hand as he walked forward, "You are not a..."

Darien's PKD was in his hands in a second as he shot the Inquisitor cleanly, the weapon pasting the Inquisitor before anyone else could react. The Amsus officer who had escorted them let his jaw drop open as he fumbled for his weapon.

Riley sighed as he felled it with a shot, as alarms began to resound. "I thought the whole point of sneaking in was to not shoot people!"