"Fair enough," Ben wriggled a little in VonGrippen's grasp, "you're mother is a queen bitch, and when she gets her hands on you she is going to kill you just to ensure her own position as the Highlady VonGrippen. You need to remove her from power, then you are going to need a woman as much of a bitch as she is, one who can play court games..." Ben lifted his finger and pointed towards the door to VonGrippen's cabin, "and she's right there. Find the nearest priest, marry her, and remove any claim your mother has to the title Highlady once and for all. You stay away from her, and her support will crumble. You need her, and you are going to need me for your grand plan!"

VonGrippen released Ben, stepping back from him, "I hate games..."

"Rubbish," Ben smiled disarmingly, "you love and thrive on them. That's why you and I are going to become close friends. That and a mutual... affection for a certain stocky Auzzie."

VonGrippen stepped back from Ben, his eyes studying the younger man a long moment, before he turned and marched back through the ship. Ben struggling to straighten his rumpled clothes, sighing a long breath of relief and shaking his head.

He was growing to actually like VG, sure he was a tightly wound ball of frustration, a product of a domineering father and a manipulative mother, but under all of that was a genuine man and a brilliant mind. More importantly was the hope that he carried with him, so much rode on those shoulders, more than anyone else could realize. Ben had fractured glimpses of what was to come, and what should be, but like a sonnet describing the beauty of a thing, it was nothing close to fully capturing the sheer magnitude of seeing such a beauty with his own eyes.

"Everything all right, sir?" Knight asked as VonGrippen returned to the bridge.

VonGrippen folded his arms gruffly, setting his jaw as he returned his attention to the situation table, "things will be fine once we find a safe port and get those two off this ship. What are the reports from..." he nodded across to the Tradeliner.

"Lieutenant Worth and Octavius have been working steadily with our engineering teams, they think they can get the Orion shields operational, however the Rail Cannons are still offline..."

"That's what happens when you superheat magnets," VonGrippen sighed, "as soon as the jump drives are operational, we'll execute a jump home."

"You have a plan, sir?" Knight inquired.

VonGrippen nodded, "I always have a plan," he lied confidently; his men didn't need to know he didn't. The first lesson Captain Sullivan had taught him was to always be in command, to always seem to have a plan. The truth was, he was lost as to what he was supposed to do next. If Ben's warning was true, then he was about to jump straight into a trap. But there were no other options, he could dead jump, the strain on the Orion navigational computer would overload its delicate programming.

He only had two choices of destinations, the Eyre Colony, or Terra Scotia. The Eyre Colony was heavily fortified, on the main jump route to Geldan VII, while Terra Scotia was little more than an ore-mining colony considered strategically expendable. An iron rich world that was similar to Mars, and typical of the worlds in the House territories.

"We're heading for Terra Scotia," VonGrippen decided tapping a starchart, "Vong Station, we're still within jump range of Eyre, but it will give us a chance to gather intelligence on the situation at home."

"Particularly dire," Administrator Van Bilder, an emaciated man of Dutch heritage sat on the edge of his desk looking at the Highlord sitting across from him, "honestly Alexander, once the Orion's placed an embargo on VonGrippen assets having access to hyperspace... look we're not a self sufficient colony here, without a regular supply of food, we're looking at massive starvation across the colony."

"It's like this across the House," Mister Malkin said from the wall-mounted monitor, "ever since news reached us that you captured an Orion Tradeliner, the Orions have been threatening any and all kinds of economic sanctions against us until we return their property."

"We were prepared for that eventuality," VonGrippen pointed out, we're hardly defenceless, and once the jump drives have been reversed engineered, we will have the means to be self-sufficient. We already have the ships in place..."

"How long will that take?" Malkin inquired, "many people are intimidated by the Orions threats, and if we can't successfully reverse engineer this technology, things could become very hard for everyone."

"The Orions aren't interested in peace at this stage," VonGrippen responded carefully, "we've always been a minor annoyance to them, and now we are a threat, they are already snug in their alliance with the Americans. They won't settle until they are confident that we will never threaten them again."

"Which means the Orions will support an American invasion of the Colonies," Malkin observed, "something to consider after we deal with the more imminent dangers."

"Chief amongst them being my mother," VonGrippen surmised, he looked at his father's oldest friend, a man who had invested so much into the House colonies, grown his businesses through lucrative contracts the former Highlord had seen fit to assign him. He was an ally VonGrippen had been swift to capitalize upon, his position in the upper echelons of the House gave him a unique insight into the workings of the ruling family, and after long years, Malkin knew exactly which side to back.

"Publicly, your mother supports you. She is claiming that she is merely acting as regent until such times as you return. However she has claimed the title of Highlady VonGrippen and is acting as if she has the full authority of the position. This has angered much of the House Assembly, so you can count on their support once you choose to act." Malkin smiled, "and considering your proximity, I believe that should be soon."

Rubbing his jaw, VonGrippen turned his head to the view port, where the Tradeliner hung in space, "what would happen were I married?" he asked glancing back at the monitor.

Malkin shifted in his chair, brushing the Scottish chin beard he had sported for as long as VonGrippen had known him, "it would remove any legitimacy that your mother has to the title Highlady, and if you can prove that you were married in the proper traditions, then I can only see it working in your favour..."

The young Admiral nodded his head rising from his chair, "can you arrange a priest administrator? There isn't much time..."

"He will ask you," Ben insisted as he sat on the edge of her bed, the tunic hanging open so that the blood flap hung askew, and the falcon patches reminding her of something from a nightmarish propaganda film. There was nothing friendly about the emblem; it was a symbol of the darkness that was to come. The symbol of a military dictatorship, with the young man Ben was trying to convince her to wed, as it's dictator.

"I can't do this," she shivered shaking her head.

Ben sighed softly, "you have to... I know it sounds weird, but if there is to be any good out of this you have to marry him..."

"I can't!" she snapped standing and balling her hands at her sides, "all my life I've been told what I had to do, what I should wear, and now I am being told who I should love as well?"

Ben stood and reached out to touch her shoulder, "I never promised you would love him... but he will love you. I can promise you that love will come out of this," his hand travelled down her arm to rest on her stomach, "a richer love than any other."

"I'll be alone," she said softly, sounding forlorn.

"You have me," Ben insisted, "I am going nowhere, I swear..."

She touched the Striking Falcon on his arm, "and this is to be our future?"

"The alternatives... are terrifying," Ben said quietly, "please?"

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