Sigil of the Wolf - 5. Chapter 5

Sentinel Station - Lagrange Five - Jump Nexus

The two Excalibur officers stood before the General's black glass table in his office, both intensely aware of the older man's scrutiny; he had their service records open on the table before him as he reviewed them, the rustle of paper the only sound breaking the silence.

Katz shifted uncomfortably, holding himself at rigid attention whilst waiting for the General to acknowledge him and possibly shed some light on what was going on. He'd heard about General Iver, a near tyrannical man to his men, but a legend to them as well. He'd been the one to liberate Karin in the wake of the failed Amsus invasion, securing orbital batteries and using them to fortify the world. It had been General Iver that had established the new Imperial Military and planned the invasion of the home sectors.

"You're a Karin pilot," Iver observed, looking up into Katz's eyes and then down at the wolf's-head patch on the arm of the sage flight jacket he was wearing. The old man's eyes softened a little bit; he was dealing with one of his own.

"Yes, sir," Katz replied. He'd worn the patch because he was from Karin, and it had just been the natural thing to do, though House loyalty hadn't exactly been something he'd given much thought to. You didn't, growing up a slave.

"Your CAG thinks rather highly of you, though she does note you have a decided lack of discipline." He folded the file closed. "You may have found things easy aboard the Excalibur, but here on Sentinel you'll have to earn your place like all the others. Report to the ready room, my Group Captain will find a spot for you in one of our drop ship squadrons."

Katz opened his mouth to protest: a triple-ace fighter pilot, reduced to flying drop missions. But a look from the General caused his arguments to falter. He wasn't going to make any headway against the man. He was supposed to be an officer; officers followed orders. He offered up a salute, and turned to march from the office.

The General turned his gaze on Elias. Colonel Evans had been right; the likeness to the long-lost Prince in the von Karin archives was uncanny. He glanced at the Lieutenant Colonel standing impassively at the back of the office, his arms folded. They both knew what it meant, and the General gave Evans a crisp sharp nod before looking back at the young engineer.

"Your record is very impressive, Lieutenant," the General said after a moment, closing the file, "However I can see you never had the benefit of military training, nor a basic understanding of military procedure." He pointed to Colonel Evans. "Take him down, get him properly attired; we leave for Karin as soon as the Excalibur departs."

"But..." Elias swallowed stepping forward, "My ship?"

"Isn't your concern anymore." The General replied, with a certain finality to his voice. He bent back to his piles of neatly stacked books, reaching out to make some notes in each of the files.

Elias shook his head. "What's going on?" He asked, defiantly folding his arms, "You can't just transfer me off my ship without asking me..."

"I can," Iver looked up, his brow darkening, he detested having his orders questioned, "And I have. You're an Imperial officer...even if you don't look like one..."

"I quit!" Elias replied firmly setting his jaw, "Now let me go home."

"This is wartime," Iver set his pen down adopting a lecturing tone, "Quitting in wartime is called desertion." He looked at the Colonel, "Perhaps he needs a lesson in what we do to deserters..."

Elias swallowed, realizing that he was scared. Darien couldn't, wouldn't let anything happen to him. He gritted his teeth and tried his best to stand tall, "Darien's not going to let you hurt me!" he declared firmly as the two marine guards, one with a broken nose and a wicked smile looking at Elias's falcon patches, entered to escort the defiant engineer away.

Colonel Evans hung back a moment, looking over at the General. "I can break him," he reassured.

Iver picked up a series of documents. "This is the new 'budget' for the war effort." He said trying to impress his urgency upon the Intelligence officer, "Each individual under my command has a price tag attached to them. It costs so much to train a soldier, but..." he held up another sheet, "This is the cost of the average search and rescue mission. It seems that 'leave no man behind' only applies when it is financially viable to the Senate." He slammed the file back down. "I want a restoration of order, and if Walker is unable to keep the Senate in check..."

"We have the Prince," The Colonel inclined his head looking at the young construct being led through the CIC under guard. "The Highlord's just become irrelevant,"

* * *

Mayfair shook his head. "You can't ask me to do that," he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I'm asking you to put together a Marine team and go get our crew members," Darien stated, firmly leaning across the desk to tap the schematics of Sentinel Station, trying to figure out the locations where they would hold his men.

Masconi rested a hand on the service automatic slung low on her thigh as she stared thoughtfully, before she too shook her head. "He's right. You can't ask him to go against his House, and you can't ask members of House Kardiac to get involved in this either. It's a House matter, they have a member of your House... and by the Imperial traditions it's up to you to..."

"To hell with tradition," Darien snapped, "They took Katz as well."

"It was a transfer," Masconi replied, looking annoyed, "Katz is probably the best pilot House von Karin has, he wasn't a part of my House to begin with. I have no say in where he goes when he's transferred by a senior officer of his own House."

Darien rubbed his temple, realizing he was fast growing sick and tired of "it's a House matter" being used in the conversation. He needed to gain perspective. Maybe the General was right, and he was too close to Elias. He grimaced as he closed his eyes, resting on the edge of his desk.

"Maybe we should just go, do our mission, and sort this all out when we get back," Mayfair suggested. "If we send troops over to board the station, this situation will spiral out of control..."

"They're blocking our ship-to-shore communications," Lauren fired back. She had already visited the armoury, a flak-vest and a PKD pistol already on and a wild look in her eyes. "I think they're the ones that escalated this. We need to start playing hard ball."

She turned back to Mayfair. "And in case you haven't noticed, Elias isn't exactly an officer; he fixes our ship, but he does it because he's part of our family, not because he wears a uniform and we tell him to do so."

Masconi chuckled. "Look out, Baby bear's coming home... 'cause Momma's pissed!"

Darien folded his arms, looking up and out of the great stern windows; Sentinel Station, with literally thousands of ships coming and going through the massive jump nexus that was the gateway to the far reaches. A centre of commerce, trade overshadowed by the formidable military presence. Hundreds of thousands of troops, a hundred or so Karin warships, fighters, transports, scout ships. And he was planning to assault it with a handful of crewmembers just to get two of his men back.

"My men can't be a part of this," Mayfair closed his eyes, hating to disagree with Lauren but his loyalty and his duty held him fast. "I'm sorry."

Masconi gritted her teeth and shrugged. "I can't do this either, I'm sorry... I can't risk dragging my House into the middle of something like this..." she glanced at Lauren. "But kick some yellow-jacket ass for me." She flashed Mayfair a sweet smile as she stepped back.

Nazzien's eyes darted up from where he was sitting, glancing at her and back to his Skipper. "Who do I shoot?" he asked, with a shrug, "Seriously, I haven't shot anyone in months, the whole Zixor thing I didn't get a chance..."

Doctor Kyr, sitting cross-legged on the opposite couch, shook his head. "You know I'm in, but they aren't simply going to let us open the doors, march onto the station and demand them back."

Darien looked up, "No." he said simply looking past all of them.

The crew turned their heads, a couple starting when they saw five of the Fida'i complement aboard the ship led by James standing in the stateroom. Their rough woollen coats looked out of place alongside the clean lines of the Excalibur's modern uniforms.

James looked expectantly at his Aga-Khan.

Darien contemplated them, knowing that to cut the assassins loose would get his men back, but over a trail of bodies. He wasn't willing to go that far yet. He shook his head again to James.

"No, not this time James." He repeated firmly.

"As you command." James intoned, and the Fida'i melted back into the corridor of the ship, vanishing into the shadows there.

* * *

Katz was horrendously bored, bored to the point of being narcoleptic, sitting in the centre row of the station's flight ready room along with a group of fresh faced, bright-eyed cadets getting a lecture on the importance of being an Imperial officer. Boot camp for rookies.

"It's a question of loyalty," the Group Captain lectured. Katz doodled on his pad, fast becoming sick of the endless rules and regulations that were being directed at him ever since he had come aboard the station.

He wasn't sure what they were trying to prove; all he'd done was suggest a good laxative to the Group Captain. In Katz's honest opinion, the over-inflated ego of the man merited the recommendation; however it had resulted in his sudden grounding from active flight duty and assignment to Basic Training, where he was supposed to learn the fundamentals of respect.

His uniform had to be a specific way, his boots polished. At least they had let him keep the nylon jacket that he'd earned in the battle for the Jump Nexus; probably because they knew taking away his senior airman's wings would not go down well with the other pilots.

He balled up the doodle he had done of the Group Captain with elementary school stink lines. He'd learned to be a pilot aboard the Excalibur, Wing Commander Kendrick had taught him to fly, and Masconi had taught him to be an officer. He didn't need the inflated windbag, whose fruit salad of ribbons showed he had never seen a single minute of actual combat flying, telling him all about respect.

"The guiding principle is that your first loyalty is to your House, followed by the Empire." The Group Captain looked down at him. "You'd do best to pay attention, Katz..."

Katz rolled his eyes, that was it, he'd had enough... It was about then that Katz slugged a senior officer.

* * *

Darien walked through the lower cargo bay of the Raptor. R-403 was his bird; armed and outfitted with the latest in Imperial technology, the captured Amsus Raptor had seen him through a great number of situations. He looked at the collection of volunteers assembled around the crates, mostly enlisted men in their blue shirts, slipping on tactical vests and loading pulse rifles.

Chief Hickey, the Excalibur's grizzled and weathered chief-of-the-boat, had handpicked the men based off of their loyalties to Darien and House VonGrippen, each clearly marked with their House insignia and black ball caps with HMS Excalibur on them. The COB wasn't about to take a chance on being mistaken for the 'enemy'.

The stamping on the connecting ladder that attached the Raptor's lower hatch to the Excalibur's rear flight deck caused their heads to turn as a livid Wing Commander stalked aboard. "They've put him in the stockade!" Masconi declared angrily.

Darien glanced at Lauren, selecting a long arm from the weapon stores, loading the pump action shotgun with rubber bullets. He set it aside and checked the magazine of his PKD before holstering the weapon. He wanted to make a point, but he had no desire to kill anyone while making it. He made sure to leave the revolvers behind.

"So you're coming, then?" He asked, pulling his coat on and smiling grimly.

She shook her head, pulling on one of the Excalibur's ball caps, "All right," She said, pursing her lips and rolling her eyes as she held out her hand so that Nazzien could hand her a TAC-vest, "but because Katz is one of mine, and I don't like people taking things that belong to me without asking nicely," she stated, slipping out of her flight jacket and donning the vest, loading additional magazines for a PKD into the pockets, pausing long enough to swap her pistols.

"You don't have to do this," Darien commented, looking down at Doctor Kyr who was wrestling to put the ball cap over his thick dark hair.

The Kaynin doctor hefted a medical kit. "Just in case," he replied formally.

Darien nodded. "Right then..." He paused, as the ladder rattled again, and Mayfair scrambled up into the Raptor.

"Is everyone coming?" Nazzien asked, nudging Masconi and smiling glad that she had changed her mind.

She shot him a sour look as she pulled on a cap, tucking it low to hide her eyes.

Mayfair stood uneasily, a schematic case in his hands as he looked at the people he had come to call his friends. He closed his eyes, not truly believing what he was doing as he popped open the case and pulled out the schematics to the station, spreading it across the top of one of the crates.

"I can't go with you," he said firmly, making certain they all understood his position, "But Elias is my friend," He shrugged, "I have some friends on Sentinel. They told me Lieutenant Elias was arrested and taken to the Stockade, Katz was thrown in there along with him just a few minutes ago." He rubbed his jaw as he looked over at the Highlord. "They're going to stop you if you try to board from the Excalibur, but if you take the Raptor up to docking platform nine..." he shuffled through the schematics and found the right one and set it on top, "Here..." he tapped it as Masconi leaned in and nodded. The Colonel continued, "You'll be able to pop the hatch and pull a Zulu-Five-Oscar..."

Kyr looked at Darien in confusion.

"Personnel making a deliberate attempt to board a ship or station without authorization." Darien explained, "Standard intruder drill."

Mayfair smiled tightly. "It's not much, but if I drop a few hints that you are going to pull off this drill... a hint from one Marine to another that the Fleeters're going try to yank down his trousers..."

"It might buy us a bit of time while they try to arrange a defence." Darien nodded.

"And you can bet," Mayfair added, "That General Iver hasn't explained to his men why he wants you kept off the station. So it should add validity to the drill, use his own orders against him, sir."

"You're a godsend, Marty," Darien said, clapping the Marine on the shoulder, looking over at Masconi. "Care to fly this bird?"

She screwed her nose up, looking about at the Raptor. "This mud mover?" She sighed, as she made her way towards the gangway and the cockpit above.

* * *

"Excalibur just shed her moorings," a Lieutenant watching the board reported to the General as he stood watching the unfolding of Colonel Ramsey's retreat. The Amsus had completely overrun the world and the Kardiac troops had little choice but to pull back to their ships and withdraw, the few remaining Imperial escort destroyers trying to cover the escaping transports as the mainstay of the Amsus fleet began to arrive.

The General looked over towards the officer and nodded; at least that was one problem out of the way. He'd been worried Taine would try something stupid; he was rash, and the General almost hoped he was that impulsive.

"Send my regards to the Highlord. Wish him luck." The General smirked, as he sipped his coffee, studying the map and looking for a way to make a successful counterattack. With more men and resources, he would have been able to drop a sizeable force on top of the Amsus before they had a chance to entrench themselves. But as it was, his resources had to be elsewhere; that meant that House Kardiac would have to fend for itself.

He stroked his forehead, snarling at the opportunity the Senate was squandering. A simple declaration of Martial law would solve all their problems. He'd institute a draft, press troops and send them to the front lines to do their duty, instead of coddling popular opinion and placating the masses. It angered him that the would-be war reporters that rode along on the invasion missions criticized the very troops that kept them alive so they could report on the war in the first place.

Reporters had no business in war. Politicians had no business in war. War was a job for soldiers.

A beeping caused him to look up and over at one of the duty stations. "What's that?" he asked irritably.

"I'm sorry," the young Lieutenant reported, hand on his TAC-link, "The lower security teams are running a Zulu-Five-Oscar..."

A drill. Iver growled at the interruption. "Order them to proceed, but not to disturb the CIC," he barked. He had more important things to worry about than a drill put on by overeager MPs.

* * *

Darien rested a hand on the back of Masconi's seat, crouching down so that he could see out of the Raptor's cockpit window as she guided it in. Excalibur's departure had been carefully timed, allowing the Raptor to detach and fly close to the great ship's hull line, sharing the RADAR and LADAR signature the Excalibur was putting out until the two vessels separated.

Masconi was an expert pilot. She guided the Raptor with controlled bursts from its drives, allowing the vessel to 'fall' away from the Excalibur and in towards the gravity well of the immense station. The Raptor's carbon-composite hull ensured that the small ship would appear like a RADAR glitch or a debris fragment to whoever was watching the scopes on the station.

Darien looked at his watch. "Three...two...one..." he counted.

The Excalibur's powerful jamming suite engaged, flooding the air with static jamming on all frequencies. Masconi was timing a quick burn of the Raptor's engines so that she immediately powered down as the jamming signal went silent.

* * *

"What the hell?" Iver bellowed, looking up as all his screens flickered and every communication headset flared with noise.

"The Excalibur," a lieutenant replied, "I have a Commander Durnham on the radio claiming the ECM suite's malfunctioning."

Iver frowned, shaking his head, as his crew around the CIC drew back from their headsets as another burst of static erupted. He was in the midst of military operations, and Highlord Taine was... Iver crossed to grab the growler phone receiver from the communications officer.

"Excalibur, this is Sentinel-Actual, shut down your..." he flinched from the loud squeal in his ear, and furiously he began to bellow, "This is General Iver, if you do not cease your jamming immediately..."

"Sentinel-Actual this is Excalibur, apologies - our technicians are working to rectify the problem, they should have the system offline in..." there was a pause for another squeal of noise, "a few minutes. Please standby."

Iver clenched his fist around the growler phone, glaring up at the scopes. It was too intermittent for Taine to be up to anything. No, it was just a way for the Highlord to be a sore loser.

He gritted his teeth, seething at the distraction, stepping up to his situation board. "Excalibur, cease jamming operations immediately. That is a direct ord..."

"Sentinel-Actual, this is Excalibur," the clipped voice replied, "Thank you for your patience. The situation has been rectified." Iver slammed down the phone, taking a deep, steadying breath, and returned to his work.

* * *

The Raptor's wings folded, like a bird coming to roost on the empty docking platform. The lower docking tube extended to mate with the hatch, already pressurizing with air as it sealed.

Darien clapped Masconi on the shoulder, ducking down again to watch as the Excalibur executed a jump manoeuvre out of the system. If they pulled this off, they would rendezvous with the Excalibur in the next system, Commander Durnham enjoying his first independent command while the Highlord and first officer mounted the rescue mission. Darien smiled tightly, grateful for the help the Excalibur had given covering Masconi's flight to the docking platform.

"I'll keep the engine running," she said, reaching out to tap the gauge that measured the charge on the jump pods. "Get our boys back, sir," she said with a grim smile.

Darien adjusted the folds of his coat, nodding to her as he walked back along the centreline of the ship, descending to the cargo bay and looking at his men. "Doctor," he nodded, "Stay here and stand ready in case we have casualties."

Kyr set his bag down and hopped up onto a crate. "Yes my lord," he said, bobbing his head in assent.

COB glanced at his Highlord, shifting his assault rifle to his other hand as he patted young Engineer's Mate Firlotte to go down first. The young technician, a recent addition to the Excalibur's engineering crew, had been one of the first to volunteer for the rescue mission. Darien smiled at the young man, trying to remember his first name, Ashley or something...

The tech scrambled down the ladder as Nazzien covered him, the Excalibur's WEAPS leaning his chin against the assault rifle, calm and cold in a way only an Orion could manage. He sighted in as the technician opened an access panel, Ashley glancing up before he blew on his hands to warm them up reaching up for the drill that he would use to pop the hatch and let them inside.

The hatch clanked as the pressure equalized in the airlock, and the hatch swung open. The first of Darien's team jumped down into the airlock, coming up and punching in another override to pop the second hatch.

They were down, in, and securing the departure lounge area of the station's docking platform; Mayfair had directed them to one of the commercial docking areas. A pair of Marine MP guards standing watch blinked in surprise at the group of sailors levelling automatic weapons at them.

The first angrily set his coffee down. "You're not supposed to come in through here!" he accused, "The drill said you were going through..." he stopped when he saw Highlord Taine himself coming through the open airlock, Lauren a step or two behind.

"Prisoners secure," Nazzien reported as he stepped up to relieve the Marines of their side arms. One of the other sailors moved in with zip ties to bind the marines, leaving them trussed up like turkeys, squirming as the strike team moved out into the station's spaceport.

They marched through the halls, passing the express walkways and confused passengers on their way to their commuter jumper flights that would carry them on the next leg of their journey, pulling wheeled luggage and staring in shock at the armed sailors led by a near-legendary Highlord marching through their midst. Nazzien took the lead, winding their way towards the central hub of the station, a couple of station personnel staring at them as they went past, murmuring and nudging one another, too surprised at Darien's presence to think about reporting it as unusual.

They walked under the large dome that connected the spaceport section of the station to the command hub, flashing neon signs announcing gift shops or restaurants. A Denver megastore was blinking for attention as the Orion attendants handed out pamphlets for the latest special offers.

COB pulled out a carefully folded map. "Left, sir," he said, stepping up to give the Highlord a look. Darien nodded his concurrence as they continued on. His hand pressed to his TAC-headset as reports came over the local net that they had successfully penetrated the station.

So far, there hadn't been so much as a peep from the CIC. Iver was either napping, or he was unaware of what was going on. Either way, Darien thanked small blessings as he led his team through the station to take back his crewmembers.

The few spaceport guards they did encounter either surrendered when faced with superior firepower, joking about how they'd been had, or were felled unceremoniously by PKD's, knocking them senseless.

* * *

Elias stood, hands cuffed behind his back wearing the uniform they had stuffed him into. He stared out of the bars at the doors to the stockade. The pain was nearly unbearable; he could feel his skin was on fire beneath his clothes, and it was all he could do not to crack. In the next cell over Katz lay stretched out on the bunk, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

"He's going to come." Katz said, hoping to reassure the young officer. He again looked worriedly at the young engineer, whose eyes were desperately locked on the doors to the stockade. Shell-shocked was an apt description, and Katz was trying everything he could think of to try to break through.

He wasn't sure what they'd done, but if the rapidly darkening bruise barely visible above the collar of Elias's shirt was any indication... Katz heard the dull splat and glanced at the droplet of blood that had fallen from the tip of Elias's fingers to the deck, followed swiftly by a second.

The Karin-bred ex-slave knew torture when he saw it, the vicious price of defiance. He had his own scars to remind him. He sat up, looking at the blood trickling down Elias's hand.

Elias didn't complain, though it was obvious from the way he moved he was in pain. He completely ignored the bunk, standing, rooted in place trying to move as little as possible, staring at the door, trying to will it open.

The thump on the door caused the broken nosed guard to look up from his newspaper. Staring at the cells, he stood up and walked towards the main door, bending down to look at the red glow beginning to form around the locks. His brow deepened into a crease as he recognized what was happening, reaching for his TAC-link as the door swung open on a collection of Excalibur crewmen, weapons drawn and levelled at him.

Highlord Taine ducked through the door, reaching out to remove the TAC-link from the surprised Marine. He lifted it to his ear, smiling that the guard hadn't had time to report in, as he gestured for Nazzien and the COB to get the cell doors open. Lauren and the men covered the entrance as Darien turned to look at Elias, standing staring at him, tears welling up in the young man's sapphire-blue eyes.

Nazzien flipped through the guard's keys. Finding the appropriate one, he pulled the door open and stepped aside. "Skipper?" he murmured, lifting his watch and tapping its face.

Darien nodded as the COB freed the Squadron Leader, taking a step towards the door, realizing Elias was still rooted to the spot.

The Highlord turned. "What?"

"Sir..." Katz said, pausing, "They..."

Darien un-slung his shotgun, pressing it into Katz's hands as he entered the cell. Elias was still refusing to take a step forward, as if refusing to believe Darien was really there.

"Skipper?" Nazzien pressed, jogging up to join Lauren at the door.

Darien reached out a hand, watching Elias flinch involuntarily away, before he hesitantly leaned into the touch, closed his eyes and shivered as he allowed Darien to wrap his arms around him.

"Let's go," the Highlord ordered drawing his side arm, his other arm refusing to release the young man that curled into him under the heavy greatcoat, clinging on for dear life and stumbling his steps as the strike team withdrew.

The guard, forgotten in the bustle, turned to reach for an alarm switch. He stopped when he felt a tap on the shoulder, turning as the Fida'i James smiled and slugged him again. Shaking off his fist, he hurried to keep up with the Aga-Khan.

* * *

R-403 broke away from the docking platform the moment the hatch was sealed, the Raptor extending its wings and locking them into place, setting off every alarm aboard the station.

General Iver dropped his coffee mug when the small frigate showed up on the boards screaming away from the station at full tilt.

"Launch Alert fighters!" he bellowed, pointing to the plotting board that showed the Raptor was extending its jump pods.

"We can't stop it..." one of his staff officers reported, reluctant to deliver the bad news.

The General's lip curled angrily, looking over towards Colonel Evans who appeared unconcerned with the loss. "Plan B." Evans said simply examining his fingernails as if he had all the time in the world.