Sigil of the Wolf - 36. Chapter 36

Imperial Fortress - Karin City

The bright flash of light and the distinctive crackle of ozone caused Edward to stop, drawing back from the large chamber into the shadows offered by massive support pillars. Curling back further into the shadows he cursed silently, it was typically his luck, just when he thought he was safe, the Amsus turned up.

"Chapter twelve, paragraph eight verse three." He muttered, "Aww shit!"

That stunned him, that was his planned autobiography, 'The Universe According to Matthew Elias'. But that wasn't... He rested his hand against his temple, listening to the sounds of the troops moving out from the chamber, weapons clicking as they were cocked. Imperial pulse rifles, the sound of the bolt action was distinctive to anyone who had worked with them.

How many hours had he done that? Sitting listening to music?

He shook his head; he didn't have time for his personal insanity, that wishful thinking that he was someone else. He had to reach Captain Zoran; with Captain Zoran free, maybe, just maybe, Edward had a chance of stopping the fight before it became a full-blown civil war.

And the only way to reach him was to stand up to the soldiers.... He rounded the pillar and came face to face with a soldier, pulse rifle barrel levelled and blue beret askew... a Kardiac soldier. The young man was nervous; he gripped his rifle too tightly, breathing hard, as if he was afraid, murmuring something under his breath before he backed up a step.

"D-don't move!" he said, looking towards the hall, "Sarge!" He called, again nervously darting glances back at the young man before him.

Edward pulled himself up to his full height;"I am Prince Edward VonGrippen, son of Peter, son of Alexander, wed to Katherine the holiest of sisters to he that walks in the light, the Immortal Emperor. I am heir apparent, and your rightful lord." He said the words calmly as he stood there, his piercing blue eyes staring into the boy's face, "Lower your rifle, Templar."

"My god!" the Sergeant uttered standing in the doors to the chamber, the men of his squad craning to get a look, uttering their own shocked realizations as Edward's words sank in.

Edward turned his head, "What are you doing here Sergeant?" he asked.

"Y-your Highness," the Sergeant bowed his head, "With respects, sir, we have orders to help secure Karin to remove General Iver from office."

"How?" Edward asked calmly, "That was an Amsus..."

"Respects, sir, Highlord Taine, sir." The Sergeant replied.

Edward felt his heart lift, "Darien?" he asked, he couldn't help the stupid smile that spread across his face.

"Yes, your Highness." The Sergeant nodded, "He sent the full Kardiac Army using the Propylons."

"Sarge!" One of the soldiers called, as the Karin Guards stormed into the far end of the chamber, rifles up, uncertain hesitation as they stared down the Kardiac soldiers, the Prince between them.

It was a quick rush, soldiers and guards levelling pulse rifles, releasing safeties as a deathly quiet descended over the group. Edward, the only one standing out in the open, turned first to one side, and then looked over at the other.

"Stop!" He put up his hands, feeling nervous as he stood between the two forces, trying to keep calm and keep the authoritative tone in his voice, "You will not open fire!" he commanded looking at each side.

Neither side made a move to comply, the hesitation drawing out. Blue-bloods, yellow-jackets staring down the barrels of their rifles at each other, daring the others to make the first move.

Edward shook his head, "You are human beings for god's sake!" he spat angrily, walking toward the young Kardiac soldier that had first pointed a gun at him. He reached out and pulled the blue beret off of his head, "When did the colour you're wearing become more important than the colour of your damn blood?"

He was furious. His grandfather had gone through so much just to avoid Imperials killing Imperials, not bearing the thought of being the one to lead his men against their own. Now three hundred years later they were again poised to kill each other.

"Put your damn gun down!" he said, angrily staring at the young soldier that was looking at him wide eyed, "Now!"

He glanced back towards his sergeant.

"Don't look at him!" Edward snapped, "Who am I?"

"I-I..." The soldier stammered.

"Who am I?" He said, an edge of iron in his voice.

"You are the Prince," the soldier lowered his head as his rifle lowered.

Edward rounded on the Karin Guards crossing the chamber and tossing the blue beret down in front of the officer who was staring at him fearfully, "And you?" he demanded.

"P-put up your guns..." the Karin officer commanded, swallowing, "I-I'm sorry you're Highness..."

"Sorry?" Edward turned, "Sorry?" He reached up and pulled the startled officer by the TAC-vest over towards the tall windows that stared out over the city of Karin, "Not half as damn sorry as they are out there!" He pushed the larger officer towards the glass, the man allowing the small Prince to man handle him roughly as he stared down over the city, Civil Defence Mechs moving through the streets, troops sweeping to and fro preparing to shoot at each other.

He released the officer looking back at the uncertain faces of the troops who were still standing in their two groups. Edward stared at them, so caught up in their symbols, their rituals. The very thing that made them Imperials in their mind was what divided them.

He crossed again to the Kardiac soldier; in three hundred years he wondered if Kardiac's anal-retentive order and discipline had survived. Sure enough, in the exact same pocket was the tin of boot polish... he opened it and smeared some on his fingers, swiping it across the blue-backed golden lion's head on the sleeve of the combat fatigues.

"There was a reason the Emperor chose black for his colour," he said, moving across to a Karin Guard and doing the same, "It's the absence of colours."

He continued till he had blacked out each of the symbols, removing the blue berets from the Kardiac troops, tossing them aside and looking at each of them. Without their colours standing shoulder to shoulder they were the same. Satisfied, Edward motioned to the corridor, "Form up, we need to reach the stockade."

* * *

Rikard's fingers idly stroked the tarnished band of silver in his hands as he stood on the snow-covered balcony overlooking the city, chaos reigning unchecked as troops stormed through the city streets. And he could pick up on the bright flashes: the Propylons spilling Kardiac troops into the streets of Karin. Somehow Sephradon had lost the Propylons. It didn't surprise him; somehow he had missed something, something crucial.

He stopped, the circlet of silver gripped between his thumb and forefinger, "Taine." He murmured, he had taken the man's death for granted, assumption leaving a crucial hole in his plans. He should have taken his fleet back, crushed the man utterly.

If Taine had the Propylons and the Diary...

Rikard lifted the silver circlet; there was one thing he didn't have.

The General was somewhere in the fortress with his wolves, now hopelessly outnumbered, his coup doomed right from its outset. Not that it mattered at all. Rikard looked across at the man who had manipulated Iver into the desperate man that he was now.

Evans stood his arms folded eyeing the city beneath them, a hawk watching his prey.

"You will be rewarded," Rikard stated simply.

Evans smiled, "I exist to serve." He replied, "I have a ship standing by to take you from here..."

Rikard nodded, "I think it is time I departed." He lifted the circlet, "Will you survive this night?"

Evans eyed the band of metal and nodded, "I've taken steps to ensure I will."

"Good," Rikard handed the circlet to him, "Make sure Prince Edward receives this. It belonged to the Emperor, it is only fitting that his heir wear it as well."

"Sentimentality?" Evans asked, turning the band in his hands and examining the simple workmanship.

"No," Rikard said, "A message for Taine, if he is wise enough to realize it." His eyes flashed dangerously, "That I will not be denied the path that is set for me."

"As you command, master..." Evans bowed his head.

* * *

The Wolves stood in a double ranked line, securing the doors to the old service halls and the power reactor that supplied the city of Karin and the fortress its power. Concrete tunnels that ran through the very heart of the mountain fortress, the final bulwark where General Iver made his last stand.

Major Malone crouched down as she stared through towards the ranks of Wolves, gripping her rifle as she tried to think of a way past them, ducking back into the darkened halls and looking up at Captain Zoran with a shake of her head.

"There's no way through." She said plainly, "There's too many of them."

Zoran rested his back against the stonewall, "I be thinking there always other way."

Vinnie shook her head, "the reactor complex is the second most secure facility inside the fortress, aside from the command bunker it's the most heavily fortified, and I counted an entire company of Wolves between us and the doors."

"Captain," One of Zoran's crewmembers nudged the Captain with his hand as he pointed up the corridor, heavy marching boots advancing, in rhythmic parade fashion down the broad stairs.

Zoran stared, looking at Vinnie as his crew spread out to cover the hall behind them, sandwiched now between the Wolves at the reactor doors and the force marching on them from behind.

The lights flared and flickered, as the booted feet rang out, and Vinnie felt her heart lift as the young man in front of a small army led the march of troops down the stairs. They marched behind him in perfect formation, Kardiac soldiers intermingled with Karin Guardsmen and fusiliers, each with their House insignia blackened and heads bare. Rifles at their shoulders, they marched behind their Prince.

"What the hell?" Zoran intoned, staring incredulously at the troops, motioning for his men to part for the troops.

"Prince Edward." Vinnie said, nodding to the grim faced, dark haired young man marching at their head, leading the force around the corner, a flow of men turning to the right and advancing down the hall towards the company of Wolves standing between them and the General.

Zoran gestured for his men, the VonGrippens joining, trying to match the march as best they could, Zoran staring puzzled as he and the Major made their way to the head of the ranks, a little behind the Prince.

The Prince drew to a halt a hundred feet from the ranks of Karin Wolves, their machine guns down, levelled at the advancing army. A few trained on the Prince, his hand upheld to stop the troops behind him.

The footfalls fell silent as the Prince took a step forward.

"I am here for the traitor Jefferson Iver." He said calmly, behind him weapons dropped to hands as they pointed at the heavily outnumbered wolves.

One of the Wolves, an officer by his markings, took a few steps forward, removing his helmet and pulling off his respirator, tucking both under his arms, "I am sorry your Highness, I have orders..."

"And I am giving you new orders Major," Edward said, his angry voice biting out his words, standing firm, "Stand aside!"

The Major considered the sheer number of men facing him, recognizing Karin Guardsmen, and a couple of the Fusilier officers, Colonel Churchill's men. He drew a deep ragged breath, "Wolves, Stand down!"

The well-trained soldiers lifted their machineguns and parted obediently, the Major offering a tight fisted salute to his Prince, "Your Highness commands, the Wolves obey!"

The Prince reached out and took the Wolf's respirator; staring at the doors as he held it loosely, "Open the doors." He commanded to the Major, soldiers hurrying to obey the order, cracking open the heavy shielded doors on the old power plant.

The Prince strode his way inside, troops marching behind him, down the rows of reactor plants and boiler tanks, heading for the simple wooden table under lights. The fallen General was standing behind it, officers clustered around, holding pistols and desperate faces as they nervously looked to Iver for some kind of direction.

Iver snarled, "My Wolves..."

Edward held the respirator up, "My Wolves!" He spat the words as he cast the gasmask along the floor; it rolled and bounced to land at the General's feet.

The General rested a splayed hand on top of a neat pile of books on the table, staring coldly at the young man before him, "You are a boy..."

"And you are a broken old man," Edward replied calmly, "Kneel."

Iver started, "What?"

"Kneel!" Edward bellowed, his voice ringing like steel.

Iver looked about him, at the soldiers of his grand army, down at the officers cowering behind him, and at the Prince who had toppled him, staring at him with dark hair falling across one eye, white shirtsleeves rolled up, and a burning fire in his gaze.

Iver knelt, the black crystal in the palm of his hand, realizing that there was no only one way to accomplish his goals, one final action that would cement his vision of the Empire, a move that would require of him a sacrifice in blood.

He tilted his head up, looking into the eyes of the Prince before him, smiling coldly as he rose, pushing the black crystal against the boys forehead, snarling, "For the Empire..."

Iver stepped away; dropping the now expended crystal as the gunshots resounded, bullets cutting through him as the troops gunned him down. The would-be dictator fell amidst the ruins of his glorious dream, a smile on his face as he fell, knowing that he had secured the future.

* * *

Edward collapsed.

THE END