The morbidly fascinating 'Church of Bones' had been sculpted out of the skeletons of over forty thousand people by a wood carver in the late nineteenth century. It was built on sacred ground in 1278 by a Cistercian Abbot of Sedlec. The Abbot had made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, bringing home a sample of earth from Golgotha that was sprinkled over the grounds of the local cemetery. The people came to believe the grounds sacred and hence became a sought after location for relatives to bury their dead. However when the Black Death spread the bubonic plague across Europe thirty thousand bodies all wanted a resting place within the sacred grounds.

Such vast numbers of dead forced the creation of the ossuary in 1511 by a half- blind monk who gathered up the bones to be stacked within the ossuary making space for more corpses, which had been taken up by the victims of the Hussite wars.

With so much death around Frantisek Rint, --a local wood carver and artist-- was employed by Schwarzenerg to imaginatively compose the bones into works of art; amongst his creations came the Schwarzenberg family's coat of arms, and a chandelier containing every bone in the human body.

VonGrippen stepped down from the dropship into the cold and snow laden town of Kutna Hora. His men hung back, noting the levels of security -- European, Chinese and American -- that patrolled, keeping their distances from one another around the picturesque All Saints Church. Lieutenant Worth positioned his men to guard the dropship. Considering its size probably the closest vehicle to the church itself, aside from the limousines that had ferried the other representatives from the airport in Prague.

Maguire drew back a step or two, keeping pace with VonGrippen as he soldiered through the snow, his long strides walking past the security patrols who had all been briefed to his arrival. A few of them flashing confused looks at each other while others nodded in recognition.

There was a Swiss Guard officer standing before the side door, wrapped up warmly in a formal dress uniform he saluted, "Highlord VonGrippen, welcome, the other delegates are waiting inside, but I must ask that you enter alone and unarmed."

VonGrippen gestured to a notably very empty table beside the Swiss officer, "if the others are inside, and they were required to surrender weapons then there would be a pile of them. I will remain armed, thank you." He looked at Maguire, "I believe this is good bye Commander, it has been a pleasure," he saluted.

Maguire returned the salute, "and the same, Admiral."

VonGrippen turned and walked through the door, aware that, as he stepped inside, he felt a disconnection from reality, everything looked so elaborate, overstated, like the set of a bad movie. And he knew that the thought did no justice to the ossuary, but the sheer weight of death all about was a lot, even for him, to take in. Here amongst the bones his own mortality was stark and sheer, one day he would be nothing but bones collecting dust somewhere. And yet his dispassion prevented him from dwelling on such existentialist thoughts, bones went to dust, wasn't that the prayer?

He made his way down the steps and out into the torch lit main chamber, where the body of the former Pope, Adrian V had been laid as if in state. His dying wish was realized, that in that place of death, his own mortality demonstrated for the world leaders -- those intent upon war -- how precious peace truly was.

There were nine of them gathered, eight pairs of eyes watching VonGrippen as he walked into the chamber, his boots ringing on flagstones in his field uniform and great coat, snow melting off of the brim of his hat. There was no doubting that a warrior had entered their presence.

VonGrippen doffed his cap, tucking it under his arm as his dark hair fell back slightly across one eye, the grey now evident upon his temples, lines beginning to add distinction to his features as his eyes creased looking about him. He recognized Vice-President Markus Aquinas, standing beside the Secretary of State for the United States Doctor Morvanor. Across from them the delegation from Europe; Queen Beatrice of the United Kingdom, Cardinal Kardiac Strathcona of Rome and President Pashek of the Unified Baltic States. General Chow paced off to the far side, his long great coat over his shoulders, yellow trimmed and a Chinese military uniform underneath, Chairman of the Peoples Republic of China.

Rounding out the individuals in the chamber, Jabin Denver the defacto head of the Japanese economy and CEO of the Denver Corporation and President Vasily Androv of Russia. VonGrippen recognized Denver as being one of the boys from the Phobos labs.

He turned at the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind him, as Doctor Rikard walked into the room, much to the surprise of most in the room, except for Markus who exchanged nods with the dark haired man who paused for a moment staring in surprise at VonGrippen watching him.

"Ten kings gathered in the place of bones," VonGrippen murmured feeling a cold shiver running up his spine.

"Highlord," Markus greeted rounding a decorative pile of bones and extending his hand, cupping it as he nodded warmly, "it has been too long."

VonGrippen shook hands with Markus and stared about him at the other dignitaries, General Chow was watching him, talking quietly with President Androv. His long moustache twitching from side to side as he considered VonGrippen, a man bred to war studying another.

"VonGrippen," Jabin, his slightly round features smiling broadly as he too shook VonGrippen's hand, "I've been hearing a lot about you, one of my smaller companies owns the rights to your comic book..."

VonGrippen tilted his head, "my what?"

"Fate indeed deals us all strange hands," Markus intercepted, motioning for VonGrippen to step aside with him, "I wanted to thank you," he said his voice dropping.

"For?" VonGrippen murmured quietly.

"For dealing with the colonies in the manner you chose," Markus said, lifting his hand to stroke his chin, covering his mouth as he spoke, "there are those of us who don't fully support war, especially not one that spreads to peaceful colonies. How is my sister?"

"She is doing well," VonGrippen reassured, "she is on Geldan acting in my stead to govern the colony, and in her last FTL transmission two days ago, is behind a push to build a new secondary school," he felt a flush of pride at his wife's achievements, in each letter Lance sent he discussed the ways she had worked to improve the standard of life on the regressionist colony.

Markus nodded, "I am glad to hear it. My 'mission' here is to learn your intentions, and possibly gauge your capabilities. But I think your motivations are obvious, and since you have found Icarus..."

"Excalibur," VonGrippen corrected.

"How... appropriate," Markus nodded, "I want you to understand my position here, Alexander, that I am not your enemy. And I am doing everything in my power to stop this war and to ensure the freedom of your House."

VonGrippen shrugged, "I would suggest trying harder Markus, American forces have been used by corrupt men to dominate, bully and oppress people across the world. That isn't what the young men and women signed up for. They agreed to defend the United States of America, serve it loyally and with faith in what it stood for, now corrupt men have deemed war good for business and low, we find ourselves here."

"Well put," Queen Beatrice walked across the floor, "but this is not a problem contained to the United States."

She was a young woman, barely into her mid-twenties, yet she held a regal elegance, her golden hair cropped short and her stunning blue eyes captivating to anyone that talked to her. She dressed conservatively, but there was a sense of elegance to the black woollen dress she had chosen for the funeral, her had coiled about her head, and instead of stealing attention away from her features, served to heighten the regal beauty she possessed. A true queen, and were it not for the disaster in London the second daughter of the Duke of York would never had sat upon the throne. It would have been a shame, she seemed born for the role, and destiny had fated it so.

"And yet, Highlord, you also wear a military uniform and persecute war," she crossed her arms, "is it an example you wish to set for others here, or merely hypocrisy?"

VonGrippen turned and bowed to her formally, "I serve my people, both as their governor and as a military officer."

"Lord Alexander," Beatrice smiled, "you dodge my question with the skill of a true politician, Geldan VII is one of my colonies is it not?"

"House VonGrippen declared its independence a long time ago, your Highness," VonGrippen clarified, "peacefully, as is the tradition in most British Colonies stretching back to responsible government, a policy your ancestor Queen Victoria established."

"Indeed," Beatrice smiled, "well it is good to see one of the children states grow into its own. However, I stand in agreement with the original point, that our troops have been fighting far too long at the bequest of greedy men seeking to exploit it for their own aims."

"Peace is attainable," Markus smiled, "it just takes strong wills to force others to listen. The question is, are we willing to listen to each other to attain it?" He looked towards Beatrice.

"It was his wish," Beatrice nodded to Adrian V's body lying in state, Cardinal Strathcona preparing for the funeral service that would begin shortly, "but I do not know what we can accomplish. You are the Vice-President, and I a constitutional Monarch, and while we may agree, convincing our governments will be difficult." Markus nodded his head, "It is in our best interests, at least, to discuss it. Things change, and while I am Vice-President today, tomorrow is a different day."

"I suppose that is one benefit that you have over me," Beatrice said almost sadly, "for you there is a chance of gaining the influence needed. For myself, even if I could gain the compliance of the British Parliament there is still the European Union."

"Change is inevitable," VonGrippen observed, his thick accent cutting into the conversation as he stepped up, "it is a matter of willingness and capability of a strong leader to show people that there can be a change for the better. Leadership that your people are crying out for, and leadership they are not getting from the political parties. Carbon copies of each other, it matters little which country they are in, one party is the same as another, opportunistic and lethargic. So bound by bureaucracy that they forget that it is the people to which they hold their first duty."

"The system exists for a reason," Beatrice remarked pointedly, "we must have faith in that system."

"The British Parliamentary system has one ultimate check and balance, your highness, and that is you. You're people are being let down because you are not acting on their behalf to protect them. Dissolve parliament..." VonGrippen urged, "remove the blood hounds, step in and stand firm that you want peace. And no one will oppose that. Once the United Kingdom extends an olive branch..."

Markus shook his head, "while President MacDonald is in power, there is no hope for peace. He is too engrained with those benefiting from the war."

Jabin Denver cleared his throat, "I am sorry to interrupt, but again no matter what decisions are reached here, it is obvious from who our respective governments chose to send that peace is not foremost on their minds. I'm a businessman..."

VonGrippen took a long, deep breath and looked across the chamber to General Chow who was watching now in interest, "and what about you General, are you powerless to prevent war?"

Chow looked amused, "war gives birth to peace, Highlord, you are a proponent of military might bringing peace are you not? You command that mighty ship over our heads, at a command you could bring any of them in this chamber to his knees. If you wish peace, you must first possess the strength to force that peace."

"Like the peace you brought Australia?" Jabin shot out bitterly, "I've heard reports about your 'military peace'."

"The governments of the Pacific Rim were corrupt, decadent and stood by allowing their own people to starve while they transferred their nations' wealth into private accounts. I merely restored order, removed the corruption that grew like a cancer..."

"Using the Red Army like a sledge hammer on open heart surgery!" Jabin snapped, "strangling the life out of free enterprise, smashing down human rights and threatening to plunge a quarter of the globe back into a virtual dark ages!"

Chow smiled, "a typical capitalist's reaction to Communism, presuming there is no room for flexibility, and no room for opportunity. I merely remove those who achieve at the expense of others. I redistribute wealth to those that need it, I insist you walk through Cambodia's former capital of Phnom Penh, and tell me where have all the starving children gone? Where are the mothers waving dishes at rich people begging for a meal while their baby cries out in hunger? I bring change, and change for the better, and change scares a man whose entire fortune is built upon the backs of the poor."

"One could argue that what good is freedom to a person starving to death," VonGrippen stepped forward, "but freedom of expression, thought and idea, to some, is worth any sacrifice." He held up two fingers to stave off Markus's ready agreement, turning his dark eyes on the Vice President, "freedom to pursue their own route of governing, their own expressions and indulge their own ideas. Not what you tell them they should think, feel or act. Wasn't that the cause of this war in the first place? You have America's idea of what the world should be, you have Europe's demands that America stop meddling in their affairs while they in turn meddled in the affairs of the Colonies. And now we have China expanding its influence without care or concern about what the people wish."

"I have brought peace..." Chow began.

"At what price?" VonGrippen snapped, "don't belittle my intelligence with the same story of change and pacification, because peace that is held at the muzzle of a gun only lasts as long as that gun remains pointing at those you wish pacified." He looked around at the collection of world leaders, realizing they were men and women, like himself. Fears and prejudices ruling their choices and their actions, and bitter ingrained hatreds that ran back centuries that wouldn't be washed away, no matter how much blood was spilled.

"And so you," General Chow smiled, "standing with your ship in orbit, dare to lecture me about gunboat diplomacy?"

"There is a better way than this," VonGrippen stated calmly, "there has to be. I can't believe that with the minds in this room, collected here, that we can't figure a way out of the mess that we are all in."

Markus licked his lips and stepped forward, his hands in his pockets his jacket undone, "the UN failed, completely. Too many mouths trying to represent their own interests instead of trying to work out what was good for the Human race."

"No one pays attention to the UN anyway," Jabin murmured.

"And that was America's fault," Beatrice chimed in, "if it had taken the time to listen to the UN and showed patience..." "That is the inherent flaw with democracy," Chow sniffed derisively, "politicians who only have a few short years to make a change, or, upon the whim of public opinion, are swept from office. I have a question for you, Mister Vice-President, tell me, with your President paralysed by public opinion what happens?"

"He either rises to the challenge, or he is swept aside for someone who is capable of making the choices." Morvanor stepped into the conversation, "if we're speaking frankly, there are checks and balances in our system that ensure that decisive leadership exists and is in place."

"Leadership that only lasts until the next poll," Chow responded, "I don't have that problem, I rule and my people know this. I permit them what they need, guide and mould them the way they need to be moulded. But also, like a father, I know when to say no. If a child wishes to do something dangerous because they think it will be fun, is it not my responsibility to say no?"

"You permit them no flexibility whatsoever," Beatrice argued.

"This from the Queen of England," Chow coughed, "it is amazing how thick the hypocrisy is in this room."

"No," VonGrippen said calmly, "hypocrisy exists across the world. I am guilty, you are guilty, and we are raising our children into it. The question is, when do we stop?"

"When the people say so," Morvanor suggested.

"When I say so," Chow fired back.

Markus cleared his throat, "the war will only get darker if those that are in power now continue on the course they have chosen for themselves."

"I am one of those people," Chow commented haughtily.

"And were I in power," Markus stated evenly, "I would offer you my hand and ask you to join me."

"Join you in what?" Chow demanded.

"In changing the world," Markus looked about him, "China, England, Rome, America, Russia, Eastern Europe, Japan and the Colonies. Are you telling me that the people in this room here now, can't reach some kind of agreement on how things ought to be?"

"And if we did reach a decision?" Chow asked, "what is to keep any of us here to our word?"

"Do you want peace?" Markus asked, "then that peace must bring with it a realization. We are at a turning point in our history, one where the realization must come that the Nation state, an archaic tribal institution of fictitious borders drawn in pen upon paper, is at an end. What has this war brought us? Nationalism? Patriotic pride? No, all it has brought us is death. Were we willing, truly willing to see beyond the end of our noses towards the future we will realize that this is the truth."

"China is..." Chow cut in.

"China is nothing," Markus bit back, "nothing but an ideal you yourself have seen fit to expand upon. You have assimilated everything around you, Korea, Indonesia, Indo-China, the Philippines, Australia, and given time you will assimilate Russia." Markus folded his arms, "you of all people, Chow, understand what I am saying. You also know that I am right, peoples under your flag at one time a couple of hundred years ago hated one another. You couldn't sit a Thai, a Cambodian and a Vietnamese man in the same room and ask them to discuss the past. But that has changed; they work side by side now under your flag, idolizing your leadership. Looking to China to make them great."

Markus turned to Beatrice, "and the European Union? A couple of centuries ago ask a German, a Frenchman and an Englishman to unite to form one state and they would have laughed at you. There is no nation states left, not when militaries are controlled by unified treaties, economies are united into three set currencies, and governments are superseded by higher authorities such as the Peoples Party or the European Parliament."

"I ask you this," Markus continued, "when Japan makes a microchip for a computer manufactured in the United States, marketed by a Canadian firm to a European client... where are the national lines? When a tree is cut down in Africa and carved into a chair, a chair that is sold to an furniture dealer in Prague, who in turn gifts it to a Russian diplomat, does the chair care who sits in it? Or where it came from? This is the nature of our world, and we as people need to socially catch up to our economy. Instead of hiding behind our maps, we need to stand up and give the people what they want, unification."

"Eloquent words..." Chow began quietly, "but if there was unification, what would the end be like? This hypothetical world of yours sounds like nothing more than a fanatical dream."

"We can achieve this in peace, or we can achieve this through war." Markus stated calmly, "and unless the status of war changes, we are going to fight to a draw." He turned to VonGrippen, "and given that the Colonies are now a factor to consider..."

VonGrippen folded his arms looking back and forth at the men and women around him, "the Colonies will have their freedom and autonomy..."

"To what end?" Markus insisted, "so that they can form their own nation states? This is the human race, we aren't primitives scratching and marking our territory. One government, one leadership that will set an example to the world..."

"With America leading the world?" Chow sneered.

"If this is to work, then there can be no America, there can be no China, and no Colonies." Markus insisted, "we have to let go of the notion of independent states and start thinking of ourselves as... as..." he turned his eyes to VonGrippen, realization dawning in his eyes, "as houses, as families. Families know no borders; their loyalty belongs squarely to the head of their house. Sharing resources and building their own infrastructure that will transcend what we have now."

"As Highlords?" Chow asked looking at VonGrippen, "interesting, but still just a dream. How do we define a House? And what will that mean for each of us?"

"This is still hypothetical," Markus said calmly, "but you have set the pattern for it General. A set of ideals that is shared by those that follow you, a military that is loyal to you and your ideas rather than to any one nation. In your army, who ranks higher? A Russian General or a Chinese Colonel?"

"The General has the more experience, or he would not be such." Chow replied, "and as such I trust my allies to select the best man for the job."

"Right," Markus nodded, "now were it two Generals of the same rank, who is in charge?"

"The one with the most experience," Chow said carefully, "I do not play favourites, to do so risks the battle."

Markus concentrated, as he had been throughout his speech, increasing the endorphins in the people around him, making them more receptive to his ideas, smiling charmingly, "and so there it is, the definition of a house, an alliance of people founded upon trust."

"This is all so... hypothetical," Jabin warned, "none of us, with the exception of the General and Highlord VonGrippen, have the power to enact this kind of change."

"The change will come," Markus vowed, "the seeds of it are sewn here. And while there is yet to be greater darkness ahead for all of us, I think we have all gained a glimmer of light that will guide us to the end of this."

Chow sniffed derisively, "if you gain control of America then maybe I will consider your dream, until that time I shall continue to fight." He gestured to the Russian President as the two men marched away from the conversation and closer to the Cardinal who was waiting patiently to begin the funeral service.

Jabin gritted his teeth and walked away as well, a number of the other delegates following along, leaving just VonGrippen, Markus and Queen Beatrice standing back and away out of earshot of the others.

"It's an ambitious plan," Beatrice said calmly, "and a dangerous one... I don't know..."

"This month was supposed to mark the change over of the rotating EU Presidency was it not?" Markus asked.

"To England, yes," Beatrice replied, "but with the decimation of Parliament, and the status of war, France has retained its hold over the Presidency."

"Seven years of French rule," Markus pointed out, "that must not sit well with the rest of Europe."

"There are those who call for the French President to relinquish control," Beatrice replied.

"Then perhaps you should find someone to help you take back what is rightfully yours," Markus suggested. As he turned back to VonGrippen, "and for yourself, Highlord? You are the sword of Damocles over all of our heads, the Colombia is staring down the barrel of your weapons, and our orbital stations are arrayed. Yet I have no doubt who the true mater of space is at the moment. This war may escalate, I doubt our resources can keep it from becoming a true nuclear conflict, can yours?"

VonGrippen folded his arms, "you want me to enforce the unspoken treaty?"

"What would you need to accomplish this?" Markus inquired, "the capacity to shoot down intercontinental ballistic missiles has long been a dream of all the nations. Star Wars, the ballistic missile shield and other programs. Yet something tells me, you have the capacity to do so."

"I do," VonGrippen said calmly, "but if I enforce this treaty then I will do so for all sides." He folded his arms, "but first you need to explain to me what you have up your sleeve."

The way VonGrippen's eyes locked on the Vice-President's left no measure of doubt, VonGrippen was reading something behind Markus's words.

"Change can only become apparent once the heat is... turned up a little," Markus looked over at Beatrice, and back to VonGrippen, "I will have control of the United States in a few days. I need to be certain that when I do, the Europeans will at least be willing to listen to my proposals for peace."

"I will do what I can," Beatrice reassured.

"I think Markus is proposing more than that," VonGrippen turned to her, looking around the room once more and keeping his tone low, "he was right earlier. If you dissolve Parliament and seize control of England you will have taken the first step. And when the presidency of the EU is supposed to transfer, then it will default to you as well. You need to be strong enough to take it from the French."

"All the Queen's horses and all the Queen's men..." Beatrice quoted, "Lord Alexander, as Markus has found the strength to ask you, so must I. Will you assist me?"

VonGrippen folded his arms, "Geldan was founded by a joint German-British endeavour, this makes me a bridge. I will assist you, your majesty, in so far as to enable you to help yourself. But beyond that, any further assistance I render will only serve to undermine your efforts to secure control. If the people are willing to listen, then you should lead them without the spectre of a power behind the throne."

"Thank you Lord Alexander," Beatrice inclined her head as she excused herself to join the others as VonGrippen took a long and deep breath.

"It seems you have been drawn right into the middle of a conflict you wanted no part of," Markus said quietly.

VonGrippen turned his head, "the only path to true peace lies straight through the heart of this war. I am going to need one more thing from you, Markus."

"Name it," Markus responded.

"I need a squadron of Aero-space fighters," VonGrippen said, "to be stationed aboard my ship, answerable to me."

"I don't know if I can do that..." Markus began.

"Then assign them to Commander Maguire's command, and in turn assign Maguire to me," VonGrippen responded.

Markus nodded, "I have a squadron that are flying escort for my plane, I will order them to assist you. However... they mustn't be identified as American fighters."

"I can live with that," VonGrippen replied gesturing forward, as the pair fell into their places as the Cardinal began the service, relieved that finally everyone was paying attention, and hoping that the former Pope's last wishes, that the leaders be given a chance to talk alone had been fulfilled.

The torchlight flickered as the flames danced, the Cardinal's words rising and falling in Latin as he recited the service from memory. Markus standing to one side sparing a glance for Beatrice and towards VonGrippen, potential allies if he played his cards right. If his plan worked correctly, then the change they all desired, they all needed would at last be a reality. However to achieve it, he would first have to burn his own house.

He took a shuddering breath as he steeled his resolve. Feeling Doctor Rikard moving into place at his shoulder.

"The pieces are in place," Rikard murmured, "give the word."

Markus nodded, "at the completion of the ceremony."

Rikard looked surprised and inclined his head, "as you command. Be warned though, this will not be pleasant..."

Markus looked about him at the other delegates and then back to the Doctor, "they need to be shown that they can depend upon each other, and at times the only way to bond is to be thrown into the crucible."

"Sedlec will be a day of infamy," Rikard mused, "and so the ten crowns gathered in the place of bones..."