We are all good, be it for someone, something, or nothing.
Unknown Location, Unknown System, Unknown Territory
"Where am I?" Darien coughed, listening to the sound of rain as it flowed somewhere outside. A loud pattering of rain on leaves, falling heavily through underbrush, the wind stirring the tops of trees. There was peace and quiet, no sound of engines, no chatter of radios, just silence and solitude.
He rolled on the coarse cotton sheet, coughing again. His back arched with the pain that lanced through him and he curled deeper into the blankets, feeling the chill in the air on his burning skin. His eyes opened and he looked at the spongy wall beside the bed, the overhanging mushrooms in flowerpots glowing luminescently, providing light to the small room with its rough-hewn furniture and worn woollen rugs.
"Hey," Edward said from the arched doorway, standing uncertainly. His eyes were nervous, concerned, his dark hair pushed away from his eyes as he fumbled with a box of cereal, trying to get the stubborn container to open, pausing in frustration, as he again looked worriedly over at Darien. "All the power in the universe, and I can't get a stupid box of Wheat-Ohs to open..."
"What are you doing here?" Darien blinked his eyes painfully, trying not to move.
"I... err... live here..." he said, gesturing with the box at the walls around them, looking a little disgruntled at a steady drip of water that fell with a light pat into the middle of the rug. He nudged a bucket over with his foot an inch or so to catch it. "Quiet neighbourhood, and you could say it's rent controlled..."
"Where...?" Darien sat up carefully, shivering a bit again in the cold as he wrapped himself tightly in the warm blanket, "Where is here?"
Edward fought the box open at last, walking back through into the other room, the sound of rustling as he leaned around the arch polishing a bowl with a grimy rag. "I... Don't know. I needed to get you somewhere safe, and so I brought you back here..." He held up the bowl, "You want to eat? I'd have coffee on but..." he shrugged, "No utilities here."
"I was going to ask about all the mushrooms," Darien said, running his hands across his arms. There were no welts or bruises, but he could feel every nerve-ending sting as if on fire.
"Well, we're in a mushroom," Edward poured the Wheat-Ohs and sat down beside Darien on the bed, handing him the bowl, "A big, hollow mushroom..."
"Only you would find a way to live inside a giant magic mushroom," Darien remarked with a slight smile, "Milk?"
"I'll pop right out to the local Seven-Eleven," Edward replied, making no move to get up. "No milk, I'm afraid, it's a bit hard for... well, you don't want to know what I had to do to get the cereal."
Darien rested his head against Edward's shoulder, closing his eyes. "This is all another dream, right?"
"No," Edward shook his head, reaching into the bowl to steal one of the Ohs, crunching on it, "You're here, and I'm here, kinda... in our own corner of nowhere, safe... alone..."
"I'm tired and I hurt like hell," Darien said, coughing again. "No ideas, you..."
Edward noisily kissed the top of his head. "You shouldn't be, you slept for nearly a week..."
"What?" Darien's head sprang up, "I-I don't...Lex Talionis... Excalibur...?"
"Excalibur is fine, they're trying to work out how to fix the jump drives, and wondering where I took you." Edward popped another Wheat-Oh into his mouth, "The Lex Talionis isn't much better off, he's stuck trying to repair himself, Lauren and them are... well you shouldn't worry about her. Riley, Katz and Kyr..." He paused, looking up, "That sounds like a bad comedy group... They aren't doing too much better, last I saw of them they were marooned and only their jump drives working... I had to drop everything to come and save you."
"Are they..." Darien shook his head, "Wait, I... you... Matty?"
"Yeah, it's me," Edward said, leaning back on the bed.
"What about Edward?" Darien asked, trying to look past Edward's eyes, trying to see deeper.
"He's me too. Or I'm him. Depends on your perspective." Edward sat back up and kissed Darien on the lips. "if it counts we both kind of missed you..."
"Stop..." Darien held up his bowl, confusion across his face, "I know it's you all right, you always confuse the hell out of me. But Matty's you...you're Edward... I don't get it."
"You're not supposed to," Edward said smiling softly, "One, you're always easily confused, two;... I can't think of a second, but as soon as I do, I'll let you know..."
Darien sank back to the bed, listening again to the rain, feeling Edward move around to lay beside him. "So you spirited me off to your little magic mushroom..."
"In the sky," Edward added, a little of Elias's mirth poking through in his voice.
"I thought you were supposed to live in the mushroom, not smoke it." Darien responded.
"You don't smoke mushrooms, idiot," Edward laughed, reaching down beside the bed and picking up Darien's shirt. He fumbled through the pockets and pulled out the flat black case Darien kept there. "He was wrong, you know," Edward said, running his fingers over it.
"Wrong?" Darien coughed again, watching Elias's fingers.
"About this," Edward flipped open Darien's TER-SEC badge, the silver star on its shield, "You did the best you could trying to work inside the system."
"I know. Too bad I didn't realize that the best things in my life were outside the system," Darien reached out and brushed a finger down the highly polished silver badge with its blue enamelling, tracing the badge number, 3342.
"You miss it," Edward observed, "being a cop."
"I miss a lot of things," Darien said, "I miss being in my apartment on a Monday night, football on... Beer and pretzels. My bud Bobby. My parents nagging me to get married and have kids."
Edward nodded, "I miss my Granddad. He'd always just be there; I was safe with him around. If he were still here..."
"He had his reasons," Darien replied, realizing that there was a blurring. Elias and Edward were no longer two separate sides of the same being. "It's about trust."
Edward nodded, sitting up, "I should... do something... Let you rest, you're still hurt and you're sick."
"No," Darien said, pulling him back, "Stay, curl up with me and sleep. Magic mushrooms in the sky can wait... I think..." He drew back, "You were kidding about the sky part right?"
Edward blinked. "Uhh, no..."
* * *
"Where are we?" Riley asked for the hundredth time.
"I don't know." Katz replied, his tone dead of any emotion as he blew on the surface of the tea he was drinking and stared out at the darkness.
"Did I mention that I want to go home now?" Riley asked, lightening the mood with a dry smile.
"You and me both," Katz replied, trying to boot up the Nav computer again, the small system spluttering and displaying scrambled jargon. The discharge from the jump inside the gas giant's atmosphere had acted like a powerful electromagnet, frying the delicate instruments of the Nav computer.
Riley sighed as he extended his arm, exaggerating his motion as he stared at his watch.. "Twenty-three hours, nine minutes and forty-thr...oh, forty-four seconds."
"That how long we've been here?" Katz asked, tilting his head.
"That's how long I've gone without complaining about how long we've been here." Riley replied pointedly. He folded his arms behind his head and stuck his feet up onto the useless gunnery console.
"You could always get out and push," Katz pointed out.
"Oh you'd like that," Riley commented in annoyance, "Make the black guy get out and push while you're all up in here, cosy and warm."
"Huh?" Katz looked genuinely confused.
"You don't know about African American History?" Riley asked, staring at Katz with a look of utter shock.
"I thought Riley was an Irish name." Katz said.
"Do I look Irish?" Riley shook his head rubbing his brow, "I forgot, education on Karin ranks somewhere between a poor Orion and Eelim birth control salesman on the dumb-ass meter." He reached out a hand and cuffed Katz around the back of the head. "Didn't they teach you about slavery on Karin?"
"A little too well," Katz bit off quietly. The tension suddenly grew very thick in the cramped cockpit.
"I'm... just..." Riley thumbed behind him, getting up and heading back, aware that something he'd said had offended the young fighter ace.
He found Doctor Kyr coming out of the Gorean's quarters, a troubled look on his brow. The small doctor looked up at the General, and gave a nod.
"How's your patient, doctor?" Riley asked, sticking his hands into his pockets and trying his best to not crack a joke.
"He's not well," Kyr replied honestly, walking with the General back into the common area of the Raptor, "I did the best I could back aboard the Excalibur, but without proper Gorean medical facilities the prognosis isn't favourable." Kyr folded his arms and huffed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. He paced the small lounge. "And all I can do for him here is make him comfortable, keep him sedated and pray that he holds out long enough for someone to stumble upon us."
"That's going to take some time," Riley admitted truthfully, "We're nowhere close to a shipping lane, our comm. systems are shot all to hell, and even if we could get a message out, we have no idea where we are. I don't suppose your friend's coming back any time soon?"
"Elias?" Kyr asked, stopping and turning back, "I don't know.' He shook his head, "The powers he displayed were..."
"Old Emperor," Riley replied, perching on the back of the couch, "they said he could do stuff like that, your friend Elias..."
"He's a construct of Prince Edward VonGrippen," Kyr acknowledged, "If someone found a way to force his transcendency then he'd have powers like this, but..."
"But?" Riley asked.
"Flames that burn that bright burn out very quickly." Kyr replied, "The Immortal Emperor was a very powerful entity, he was able to stop the UN war before he attempted his ascension, and after... well, there wasn't much left of him after the Bishops got through with him."
"They killed him," Riley guessed.
"No, worse," Kyr said evenly, "They kept him alive."
"Hey," Katz called back through the ship, "We have company out here."
Riley met Kyr's gaze a moment, the General reading the worry and concern for his friend on the Doctor's face. Turning and dashing back to the cockpit, he threw himself into the gunnery console and set about activating the weapon systems, only to catch himself.
They were unarmed, immobile.
"If they're hostile, we're screwed." Riley said, sitting back into his seat.
"There," Katz pointed out of the cockpit window at another set of flashes off in the distance, "That makes five."
"A fleet." Riley blew a sigh, "So what do you want me to say at your eulogy?"
"Alvin Katz, I died an optometrist..."
"Optimist, the word's optimist," Kyr admonished, joining them at the back of the cockpit. He shook his head, "Come on, really, English, it's not so hard..."
"Well, whatever it is..." Katz pointed again, "Those aren't Amsus ships, they're moving too fast and their hull configurations are... it's the Imperial fleet!"
"Out here?" Riley ducked his head, watching one of the small, double-cannoned vessels that was about twice the size of the raptor and twice as ugly swinging about, its hull painted with Imperial colours.
"Osterburg Hunter Killer," Katz smiled, "A whole pack of 'em. I've never been so happy to see ships in all my life."
"Aren't the Osterburgs General Iver's ships?" Kyr chimed up from the back.
"Aren't you the podiatrist," Katz shot back.
"Pessimist..." Kyr shook his head, "Never mind."
* * *
"Captain Shale sent me down to find out where we're at?" Masconi stepped out of the elevator, pulling her hair back and under Darien's red ball cap she still wore. Commander Durnham flickered to life, walking with her as she made her way down towards the heart of the Excalibur.
"They're working as fast as they can," Kit replied, "however. I have my doubts that we can successfully..."
"We have to," Masconi said as a set of heavy blast doors swept open at their approach. She led the way into engineering, greeted by the bustle of motion, grease-monkeys and ratings dashing to and fro, technicians working on various access panels slaving to complete the specially designed structure ahead of schedule.
With the abduction of Captain Taine and Commander Tevraun, Captain Shale had ordered the engineering crews to come up with a solution to the jump drive problem, it had been Lieutenant Galadriel that had suggested the Propylons. And considering their current lack of any other option, Masconi had given the plan her endorsement.
The open top elevator, built hastily into scaffolding, still had the yellow and black markings from its old life as part of the battleship construction yards at Yeji-Sola. Everything about what they were building had been begged, borrowed or salvaged from the station or from the other debris around them. They didn't have the luxury of picking or choosing, they had what they had and they made do or adapted for what they didn't.
She rested her hands on the rail, watching the bulkheads as they swept by, the elevator running horizontally along the length of the ship around the great focusing crystal of the Zero-Point Bore. Her mind drifted. The war, it seemed, had stretched on endlessly now. the Amsus forces were sweeping down upon Sentinel Station, an unending stream of soldiers, ships and resources to be hurled against the Imperial fortifications.
The ebb and flow had driven black and bleak year after year. Planets were liberated only to fall again. The Amsus were paying dearly for every inch of ground they tried to take back from the Empire, an Empire that bitterly fought back to free every soul it could.
Yet there they were, the fighting free.
Selfishly she found herself thinking of Nazzien, burying the memories before they could become painful. She didn't have time to dwell on them, she was used to loss, and she would survive. But she knew that the pain lay there, cold and hard, waiting for her when she was at her weakest; it was part of the life.
The elevator stopped at the final stop, the protective railing retracting as she entered the heart of the newly constructed Propylon Chamber. It was still in a state of disarray, and she had grown used to the perpetual state of construction that never seemed complete. Wiring stretched across metal scaffolds, computers set up on makeshift tables offering data on constant repeating feeds. Off to the right a group of technicians were busy welding armour plates together to reinforce the braces.
The COB, in his grey-blue uniform shirt and golden chevrons and starts on his shoulder boards, directed the construction, white hardhat on as he turned and smiled at her, lifting his hand to greet her. She'd probably never get completely comfortable with the sense of family that so many in House VonGrippen seemed to share. Out on the front lines, serving alongside so many of the other Houses, there was little room for the close relationships that made house VonGrippen so strong.
He crossed the operations centre, stepping around Lieutenant Galadriel, who was performing a systems check, looking confused at the COB's sudden break from the brutal workload they were all subjecting themselves too. She turned and smiled herself.
"When will it be ready?" Masconi asked, looking up at the Propylon stone being aligned to sit horizontal to the ship's gravity plane in a perfect circle around the Zero-Point Bore.
"I don't even know if it'll work." COB said as he rested on the edge of the table, looking at Lieutenant Galadriel, "We're basically messing with alien technology here and hoping we get lucky."
Galadriel shook her head at the senior enlisted crewman and smiled warmly at the Wing Commander. "We'll be ready to begin a field test in two days. We're just finishing bracing the Propylons to the Zero-Point Bore's focusing crystal. Theoretically this should amplify the Propylon effect and encompass the ship..."
"If it doesn't?" Masconi asked, tilting the brim of her hat back.
"If it doesn't," COB chimed in, "A big chunk of our main cannon is gonna disappear and we're going to be stuck here."
"Again," Commander Durnham said as he dutifully materialized, indicating that he had been keeping an eye on the construction, shifting uncomfortably polishing his glasses for all he was worth, "I really don't see the wisdom in this course of action."
Masconi ignored the pessimistic Hologram. "How far will we be able to jump?" She asked, leaning forward to call up the computer simulations Galadriel was running. Trying to write software that was capable of operating the Propylon device while much of the ship was still being cleared of the virus had proven difficult, but Galadriel had grabbed the best computer techs on the ship and had set them to work adapting the Amsus computers to the task.
"Theoretically, all the way to Karin if we wanted to." Galadriel said.
"The Skipper's orders were clear from here, the plan is to head to Taïr. If we can break the blockade there, it will give us more resources to attack the fleet besieging Sentinel Station." Masconi said calmly.
"With respect," Commander Durnham said stepping forward, "The Highlord isn't here..."
"This is still his ship," Masconi said, folding her arms, "His orders stand. Besides, he'll be expecting us to go to Taïr."
"Yes, however the Lex Talionis..." Commander Durnham pressed.
"The last time we went up against that ship we lost." Masconi said calmly, "We're not risking the whole Empire just to stop one ship. If we have to pick our battles, let's pick the ones we can win."
* * *
"Where are they?" Reporter Paul Schofield stepped over the rubble, looking about him, "That is the question on the minds of the citizens on the southern Karin continent in the aftermath of this earthquake, as for the fifth straight day the Government of Karin has yet to mount any kind of relief effort."
He turned to look behind him. "This was once the resort town of South Paeans. Over there," he pointed to shattered ruins, "Was the famed Devonian Theatre, and there the historic Lansdowne Hotel, memories now as people struggle to survive in the wake of this disaster, seemingly abandoned by their leadership." He shook his head. "The residents here are not completely alone. Elements of the rogue Military Intelligence detachment colloquially known as the 'grey men' have been spotted helping in the rescue attempts. The leader of these rebels, Colonel Ethan Evans, currently rests under close arrest in Karin City, but despite all this, the 'grey men' have responded, leaving this reporter to ask, why is Colonel Evans under..."
"We're not there because we're trying to stop the damn Amsus from destroying everything in the entire Empire, you useless hack!" Walker shut off the vid-screen with a click, tossing the remote onto the table as he rubbed his head; he was angry, angry that there was nothing he could do. With his armies gathering at Sentinel for an attack that would begin at any time and his militia, such that it was, guarding the city, he had nothing to spare for the relief effort. Anything he could send would seem nothing more than a token effort at best.
He couldn't even spare the men to arrest Evans's dissidents now that they were out in the open.
There was a knock at the door, and Walker composed himself, turning. "Come," he commanded, slipping the greatcoat back around his shoulders.
"Your grace," Walker's aide, Michael, leaned on the door handle, "The Amsus are starting to jam our FTL communication systems through the Sentinel to Eisenhower Jump Nexus, but we managed to get a news packet through from the Orion Directorate... You are going to have to see this."
Walker frowned at Michael's barely constrained exuberance as he found the remote again and turned it to the appropriate channel.
He watched a striking Orion woman taking a podium at a news conference, the backdrop of the bustling Orion financial capital behind her. She adjusted horn-rimmed glasses and poked a pencil through her bun as she looked up. "The Denver Conglomerate, having used every effort since the beginning of this galactic crisis to remain neutral and at peace with both sides, finds this is no longer possible." There was a rustle of surprise from the crowd. "The Tradeliner Shifting Sands was wilfully and brutally attacked whilst commencing peaceful trade operations inside of the Amsus Hegemony, an attack that resulted in the deaths of a great number of Denver Employees, both Terran and Orion." The murmur of surprise turned to outrage, "This woeful act cannot go without consequence. The Denver Conglomerate, nay, the whole Orion Directorate is faced with imminent danger, and we must guard against this peril. I am therefore obliged to make representations to the Amsus High Command and demand an immediate cessation of hostilities both against the Orion Directorate as well as its Imperial allies." She stepped around the podium, crossing her arms, "Failing this I am instructed to inform the Amsus High Commander the following: Nicholas Denver, Director and CEO of the Denver Conglomerate, accepts the challenge, and considers himself at war with the Amsus Hegemony."
Walker nearly dropped the remote, shock written across his face. "Bless you Val McGregor, you old..." He grinned, the grin broadening as he nodded. "Inform our fleet commanders of the news," He ordered, "We need to pray Denver's forces can join ours in time to save Sentinel, or our newest ally may find himself trapped without our capability to support him."
* * *
Under the looming crags of the Tepestian Mountains, Caldone guided his way up a stony slope from the foothills that began the foot of this secluded plateau. The great spires pierced the sky, dwarfing all other mountains, its snow capped peaks defying the baking afternoon sun. The tallest thrust well above the clouds that mocked the snow covered land around it with the promise of sunlight that would never warm it. Caldone could not imagine why a man would want to climb a mountain, but it was said that men who had tried to scale mountains were a rare breed indeed.
"... yet from this vantage point the shield generator would have a natural defence of these mountains," Major Darrick was stating at his shoulder. "And it would still retain its ability to keep its generators trained on the Black Tower..."
He ignored the army engineer's technobabble, as he did the numerous Marines that made this trek through the mountains sweeping the area with their Pulse rifles, ensuring his safety. And as he turned his sunglass-visored eyes upon them he once again cursed the luck that had forced the choice of that world. The broken gorges and gullies, rugged rising hills all barren and lifeless around him reminded him just how alive he was. Stripped down to his shirtsleeves and open waistcoat, enjoying the feel of un-recycled air through his nostrils.
Right then he didn't want to think about shield generators or Tower defences. Now he wanted to study the plateau that Karin city was built upon, a flat plane nestled high above the rest of the world, seeming as if it were carved specifically for the purpose that was being set now for it on one side of the plateau a sheer cliff had been smoothed over a hundred pace width and carved, the meaning of the ancient glyphs lost along with the natives of Karin in the annuls of time. High on the other side, on the steep mountain face, far enough skyward for him to not be sure of what he saw, stood something stranger. He could have sworn it was the remnants of some long forgotten building, shining grey against the darker mountain.
At the foot of the cliff face lay a marine encampment, the steady flow of dropships across the skyline to and from Karin city the planets capital, where the great man made towers matched the ancient monuments of stone that now surrounded him.
The Director of Imperial Intelligence nodded to himself as he turned to the commander of the construction project, "The time requirements are short. I have other construction teams at work within the city, however you are limited to civilian labour and a small detachment of Army Engineers to build this generator." he waved a hand across the site, "And I think that this place will be ideal. Carry on."
He rounded on his heels and walked a few paces away, waving to his Marine escort to remain, pulling his TAC-link from his pocket, recalling his dropship to take him back to the city.