He is a man of the people. To them he is a voice of sanity in the mire of madness.
That is why they came, first only a few, their number steadily growing in the Arctic chill of a late Karin spring, standing in the great Maw chanting for his release.
Release Evans, release him now.
Karin City - Karin
"No," Walker said evenly, looking down the double row of his advisors seated along the council table. The high glass windows of the chamber faced out over the maw, the voices of the steady chant being heard clearly by all within.
"But your Grace," said William Allison. A trade unionist and the representative of nearly a third the Karin workforce, he stood halfway down the table, clutching the petition tightly in his hands. "Four million workers of the southern continent signed this petition. They are demanding his freedom."
"With respect, Mister Allison, you are asking us to release a guilty man," objected one of the acting cabinet members, Laura Fennimore. A Senatorial candidate, she had earned recognition under General Iver's dictatorship as an outspoken supporter of civil rights. With a long and successful legal career behind her, she was tipped as being the next Imperial Solicitor General after the election. "We have clear evidence against Colonel Evans," she continued, "His ties to General Iver's uprising are well-known - we even have his own confession!"
Allison turned, his moustache wriggling from side to side in frustration, his eyes burning. "Oh, are we not in the habit of releasing the guilty? Do we not, currently, have a former Pirate Baron as the commander -in -chief of our naval forces at Sentinel Station? For that matter, isn't our acting Chancellor a known collaborator with both the military uprising and with the Commonwealth? No, there are few that sit at this table who are guiltless..."
"Oh, I must disagree," The richly accented voice caused them all to turn to the only duly elected representative at the table. Feruk Hama Karim sat uncomfortably in his chair, his supporters on Eqyr-Ouso having voted unanimously to elect him the very day the nomination request had been sent to the colony.
Every head at the table turned to the normally silent Imam as he sat upright. "We should do our best to be just in everything we do and at any position or place we find ourselves," he quoted the Qur'an flawlessly from memory, raising his finger and looking up at Walker, knowing there was only one vote that mattered on the issue. "For the faithful, they stand out firmly for justice, as witnesses to Allah," he pointed upwards reverently, "Even as against themselves, or their kin, and whether it be against rich or poor: for Allah can best protect both." He shook his head as he looked squarely across at Allison. "We must not allow justice to be decided from the heart, be it our own or what lies in the popular heart of the people. For if we swerve, and if we do distort justice or decline to do justice, Allah will not be pleased."
There was an uncomfortable silence following the Imam's speech, each of the councillors trying not to think about the religious aspects that Feruk brought to the table, but each of them could admit the wisdom in his words.
"The point I am trying to make," William Allison huffed again angrily through his moustache, "Is that while the rest of you were sitting on your hands, wrestling with your elections and your own personal ambitions, Colonel Evans has been working, for the people, as one of the people..."
"Colonel Evans is attempting to be tried in the court of public opinion," Fennimore sniffed, "The Imam brings a solid point - we cannot make justice a tool of favouritism."
"You are afraid they will side with him." Allison bit back.
"Popularity isn't a means to escape justice," Fennimore warned, "We need to be above mob rule."
"I support that view," Walker said calmly, looking back across at Allison, "Evans stays where he is until we elect the Senate and can appoint a court to try him properly."
This drew a rumbling from the trade unionists at the table, each of them looking at each other, glaring towards the notably empty chairs at the table that would have been filled by the military representatives, all of whom were serving on the front lines. Everyone knew that the Military would broker none of the posturing; many of them had sympathized with General Iver openly and wouldn't hesitate to support Colonel Evans.
Director Caldone leaned forward, further down the table, a charismatic man he had a capacity to put the entire council at ease. And many felt he had been the best choice to take over operations of the Imperial Intelligence network. "I am in agreement with the Archduke," he removed his small spectacles and set them on the table before him, folding his hands in his lap, "for all our posturing, until there is a legitimately elected government in power within the Empire, any move we make towards summary justice...or leniency, will be seen in a negative light. I believe we should leave the matter of Colonel Evans to the Senate, and focus instead upon matters that are truly important."
There was general agreement with the Director as the meeting broke, Walker respectfully excusing himself as Caldone gathered up his papers and hurried after the acting Chancellor, zipping the leather folio closed as he struggled to keep up with the Archduke's long strides.
"You have the appointment with the representatives from the education board," Michael, Walker's aide reminded, wrestling out an itinerary as he set it on top of his clipboard, reading as he walked, "That's in ten minutes. After that you have a war briefing with Colonel Churchill from Sentinel via FTL..."
The three walked through an antechamber and into the Archduke's office, carved literally from the heart of the mountain, the granite veins running through the stonework shone in the light. The seven slatted windows behind the broad glass desk were delicately crafted from stained glass done in various shades of yellows, catching the light filtered down from the surface of the mountain along ventilation shafts. The room was broad, and felt airy, a comfortable place for the acting Chancellor to attend to matters of state.
"Has there been any word from Highlord Taine?" Walker inquired, sitting in the high-backed leather chair and shuffling through the reports that were neatly arranged and prioritised for his attention.
"None as yet, your Grace," Caldone stated standing easily off to the right, "With the establishment of FTL Relays we are managing a limited restoration of our FTL network out beyond the Sentinel Jump Nexus, however as yet Highlord Taine has yet to respond to our communiqués." He slipped his small glasses back on.
Michael juggled his portfolio, and pulled out a sheet of paper, "Well, that isn't surprising given the amount of jamming the Amsus are directing into our FTL communications network out past Sentinel." He paused, scanning the sheet and handing it over to Walker, "However, a man claiming to be General Riley arrived at Sentinel Station two days ago. He was accompanied by Doctor Kyr, the Excalibur's chief medical officer, and the Gorean Ambassador. Colonel Ramsey has verified that General Riley was made a General by Highlord Taine..."
"General Riley,' Caldone said with a smile, "was the Fifth Column Resistance founder, there are some discrepancies as to his true identity, or if in fact he is a real person at all. However, the name Riley is widely known across Amsus held worlds, it would be a valuable symbol, and may help to rally support to our cause."
Walker looked over the paper and up at his aide, "Well, Taine is full of surprises, isn't he?" He murmured, turning his head to stare at the pattern in the glass behind him.
"Um, your Grace might want to know," Michael stopped and set his files down, fidgeting with his tie, "There have been repeated calls from colony worlds demanding to know when the deification of Prince Ed..."
Walker snapped his head around, "The Prince," he stressed the title, "will remain in state at the bequest of House Kardiac."
"Yes, but..." Michael swallowed again nervously, "The people want to know why 'in state' seems to mean that the body is only viewable by those who have access to the Imperial Palace."
"Because I don't want another bloody God-King," Walker murmured testily, rubbing his brow, knowing full well that of late his moves had placed him diametrically opposed to his people's wishes. It was making him unpopular, and with an election looming.
He uttered a curse, frustrated that his government was about to capitulate to an opinion poll, that he would be forced to give power again. "Order the body moved to the Senate building, muster a formal guard. Keep the numbers small. If they want to see their Prince... we should make them wait for it."
"You're Grace, its minus twenty five and set to drop..." Michael shivered, looking at the window.
"I know,' Walker replied calmly, "Maybe it will deter people long enough for us to get some kind of military presence back on Karin."
"Yes your Grace," Michael bobbed his head and departed the office, leaving Walker to mull over the situation for the thousandth time, wondering what he could do to stem the seeds of fanaticism that were seeping through his people. Desperate and tired of war, they were seeking an answer, any answer, to their problems, be it Evans or their belief in a new god.
Caldone folded his arms, watching the Chancellor a moment before choosing his words, "It may be wise to consider the defence of Karin, given the Gorean activity on the boarder."
Walker looked up absently, "I thought you were taking measures to personally over see the defence of the city."
"I am not a general, your grace," Caldone warned, "I have installed a shield generator that should offer protection for the city, and I am constructing defence platforms..."
"At considerable cost," Walker added, "You commandeered four buildings and are constructing something over top of Main Street. The Orions are up in arms that you're attaching something to their Headquarters..."
"I am taking measures to ensure the safety of the city." Caldone stated, laying a piece of paper down on the table, "We have been researching captured Polian technology, and principal amongst them are captured Zero-Point Bore schematics, I am constructing a working prototype to help defend the city in case of attack." Caldone flipped through the sheets and showed Walker the schematics and diagrams, "Combining this with a series of specially designed satellites in orbit, we should have an effective deterrent for future attacks, especially when used in co-ordination with existing planetary batteries..."
Walker studied the design plans; seeing that much of the work had already been completed he looked up again, "You didn't seek council approval..."
"I needed to use existing structures, so I felt it prudent to first assemble the weapon and to test it before I endeavour to bring false hope to the council." Caldone reassured, reaching out with his senses to feel Walker's emotions, concentrating as he increased the levels of endorphins in the Archdukes system. Easing the tension with a rush of calm, good feeling.
Walker nodded, "Very well. Now if you would excuse me, I have a meeting..."
The Archduke steeled himself, standing up and walking around the desk as the doors cracked open to admit the education representatives, smiling charmingly as he guided them towards their chairs. Karin's education system was in woeful need of more resources, and at least he had some good news on that front; Nicholas Denver's entry into the alliance had freed up more funding to be allocated to important social infrastructure.
* * *
Colonel Evans looked up towards the door of his cell, frowning at the small wizened-looking Imam standing there, looking down at him.
The Colonel's eyebrows furrowed in surprise as he sat upright on the end of his cot. "They sent me a priest?" he asked, mildly bemused.
"Oh, Allah is listening if you wish to tell him your sins, of which there are many," The Imam smiled pleasantly, "But that is not why I am here, no, I have come to ask why you feel that you are above justice?"
"Consult my barrister," Evans said calmly, rubbing his face and glancing at the only elected member of the Imperial Senate. He tilted his head. "You wouldn't come down here for that. Why are you here?"
"Allah guides me," the Imam replied cryptically, "To those who have lost his path, in the hopes of bringing them back to him. You would raise a false idol in the place of Allah, and turn the faithful to worship it. I cannot allow you to do that."
Evans stood, looking at the pair of Wolves who tensed as he did so. If he made any move towards the bars they wouldn't hesitate... he stood at the edge of the invisible line, his hands at his side, smiling at the Imam. "The Emperor is reborn, and it is only a matter of time until he strikes your 'Allah' down..."
"Oh, you are most mistaken," the Imam said, wagging his finger, still smiling, "No, no, for Allah is mightier than you or I, and far wiser. Your brazen idol will not turn us from our path, and you will find us most disagreeable if you attempt to do so."
"I wonder," Evans murmured, "I hear it is awfully hard to make the Hajj when Mecca is buried beneath a desert of glass. Where was your 'Allah', I wonder, when Kardiac detonated a nuclear device in Mecca to silence the Islamic protest?"
"He was lighting the fires of hell in preparation for the day Kardiac was sent before him for judgement," the Imam replied, his smile never fading, not even a millimetre, "You will stay within these walls, Colonel Evans, for the day will come when you too will be brought before him, and I pray that Allah is most merciful to you."
* * *
Walker stood watching the line. In single file the people of Karin, from all walks of life, filed past the body of their beloved Prince. Somewhere, someone had gained the idea to cast the symbols of their Houses at the foot of the small dais upon whish he lay, a pile of badges marking former loyalties. Small flags of the von Karin house, once sources of great pride, were being thrown to the feet of the boy who meant more to them than their national identity. He was a restoration of their past, long held beliefs clutched in the night, waiting for the return of their god. He represented their survival, a chance for something to pray to, something to comport their faith.
He couldn't understand the fanaticism. The protest for Evans's release, he could understand... a political ploy by those still loyal to Iver's revolution, industrialists and trade unions that had who had be cleverly bought with illusionary promises of riches from his war effort, unaware of Iver's true goals. Fuelled by Evans's 'grey men' coming forward in the wake of a natural disaster, it was all a carefully calculated plot. But this was different.
This was the human race reaching out to touch a piece of the divine. That hope that lay deep within that God would protect them. It didn't matter if the Prince was a god or not, he represented a god to them. That great maker who had seen to take on human flesh and walk amongst them once again. There were rumours that there was a fourth testament in the works detailing the teachings of the Boy-King...
It has to be a short book, Walker thought dryly.
He had attempted to tackle the Templar's Edict, Kardiac's massive tome that had rambled on and on in the Warlord's dusty style. Dark and Machiavellian in its scope, it had tried to illustrate why faith was tied so directly to strong men. Walker had found it boring, fanciful delusions written by a madman.
Yet, there he stood, watching his people weep for a clone-construct. With the spectre of the Amsus war fleet bearing down on them, they were finding solace in the one place they could count on finding it: in their god.
There were other protests. The Islamic Nizari Sect was steadily growing in prominence. Some of the more extreme amongst them had began a demonstration against the false idol being displayed so prominently, claiming it was an affront to their Allah.
Walker blew out a long breath. Religion was a mess; no wonder the Amsus had outlawed it.
He looked up. "Why is it?" He asked calmly, "That every time I have a moment of introspection, someone sees fit to interrupt it?" He turned to Caldone, who was standing patiently in the shadows.
"I'm sorry your Grace, but there is news, it's Colonel Ramsey..."
* * *
Riley ducked around the corner of the garishly white station, pulling up short as he walked past the pressurized glass wall that separated Sentinel Station's CIC from the hall.
The Karin Fusilier saluted him, standing back as the doors de-pressurized and rotated to let him into the dark chamber. He wondered if he'd ever get used to the attention he garnered from having a ring of five stars on either side of his collar.
Colonel Churchill, a butt-ugly man crammed into garish tartan trews and a ridiculous shaving brush sticking out of his mustard yellow beret, was standing at a massive CIC table. Enlisted marines were adjusting holographic models of ships, and shifting them around the digital map of the surrounding sector, indicating the current distribution of the Imperial fleet. Everything was arrayed at Sentinel - everything that was left.
Churchill issued some orders to his men as he paused, noticing the VonGrippen General, his tan shirt and striking falcons stark against the surrounding Karin officers in their battledress. He nodded to the officer he was talking to and came around the chart table.
"General," Churchill greeted warmly, "It seems you have some well connected friends in the Imperial Council, they have confirmed your commission in the Imperial Forces," He extended his hand and shook it firmly, "Technically that makes you the senior officer here at Sentinel."
"Huh?" Riley, who was poking the three-dimensional model of the Spirit of Tecumseh and whistled at how fast they had whipped it up, looked up. "Right, yes, nice model by the way," He said sheepishly to the young private that was trying to alter the position of the small ship and had been too nervous to protest to the General.
"Perhaps we should discuss things in private?" Churchill suggested, motioning for the General to follow him through into what had once been Iver's office. The room was immaculate, a simple glass table, and books of procedures. Riley immediately got the sense that the former occupant had been a little anal-retentive.
"I'm in charge here?" he asked a little sceptically.
"The Imperial council feel that your... name will be a significant moral boost as well, by placing a General in command of the Sentinel defence, especially one with your reputation..."
"Right," Riley shook his head tiredly, "remind me to thank Taine for this one. Ok then," he murmured looking back through towards the holographic map and the assembled fleet, "I want to ask why we're still here?" Riley asked, walking around the table and picking up one of the books, flipping through it and setting it back down again, "I mean, it's like we're sitting here waiting for the Amsus to hit us."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Colonel Churchill frowned, his arms folded, "The Jump Nexus is a strategic asset..."
"So we take it with us." Riley replied.
Churchill looked at Riley as if he had gone insane. "What?"
"Hear me out," Riley said, tapping one of the books, "I read this one by the way, VonGrippen... great tactical mind, lousy strategic mind. He would agree with me though, the advantage of Imperial ships is their speed, and our capability to use them effectively. Just... leaving them here, for a siege... That's a bit like saying to the Ice Queen -Sephradon... she has nice ass by the way..." he shook his head to focus, "But it's like saying here we are, come pummel me. Now I know the education system on Karin isn't exactly magna-cum-loudly but you guys had playgrounds right?"
"Right," Churchill nodded, folding his arms, wondering where the unorthodox General was going with this.
"Well when the school yard bully came up to you, what did you do?" Riley said with a meaningful look, "And come on, face like that, you have to have your share of fun with Bullies."
Churchill sighed, shaking his head, trying his best to keep his temper even. "I'd give him a black eye. Sir."
"Right," Riley said, nodding, "You'd pop him, and get the hell outta dodge before he gets back up. We need to do the same. We can't sit here and wait for Sephradon to come to us, she's gonna cream us. We need to be somewhere else. She's got everything she has formed up into this one big assed super fleet..." He smiled, "So what's protecting Earth?"
"Earth?" Churchill stared in wonder, "You want to go after Earth?"
"Why not? Hit the bitch right where it hurts the most. Women like their pretty rocks, and last I checked there's no bigger jewel in the Amsus crown than Earth." Riley smiled, "You telling me we don't have enough forces sitting around on our ships and stations right now to take one undefended ball of mud away from the Amsus?"
"They... But..." Churchill shook his head, "we..."
"Give me one good reason why we can't pull this off. Darien proved that the Jump Nexus is just as mobile as a starship, and this station..." he patted a bulkhead, "Was fitted with jump drives to get it here in the first place. There is nothing saying we have to stay put. Let's go, give her a black eye."
"I'd have to consult..." Churchill began.
"Five Stars trumps no Stars," Riley tapped his collar insignia, "You just said that makes me the boss around here. So if the Imperial Senate has a fit, tell them to give me two weeks notice and a severance package. Until then, we need to go, and we need to go now, while Colonel Ramsey and the 242nd are out there dying to give us more time."
Churchill smiled. "Yes, sir." He scooped up a growler phone, "Lieutenant, I need you to send to all ships the following message..."
* * *
Lieutenant Galadriel busied herself, walking through the Excalibur, clipboard in hand, making the final rounds before the ship activated its Propylon Drive. The return of Elias had been a mixed blessing; while many who knew him welcomed his technical expertise, there were also some who were unsettled by the thought of having a living god amongst them.
Galadriel was doing her best to not think about it. Her faith was something she didn't like to delve into too deeply, especially considering the monumental paradigm shifts that had come with the Kardiac revelations aboard Lex Talionis, and with Elias/Edward's resurrection... thing.
She shivered, having the unsettling feeling that she was being watched. She looked up and about her in concern, but nothing seemed out of place. There were some marines sitting on a couple of crates playing cards. A few technicians worked up on a metal scaffold repainting a scorched bulkhead. A group of ordinance crewmen were sorting through more of the supplies taken from the battleship.
Shaking her head, she chalked it up to stress and headed down towards the engineering sections. Technically what they were about to attempt was theoretically impossible, but then, so were the Propylons. Alien technology, as bizarre as the physics behind it seemed, were about to whisk them halfway across the galaxy to Taïr.
She caught sight of Commander Durnham. The anxious hologram was overseeing the calibration of the navigational systems, plotting the intricate details behind a jump of that magnitude using the archive records taken when the Excalibur had last been in the Taïrian system. He was careful to be exact; no one relished the prospect of materializing out of hyperspace in the heart of a star, or some other astral body.
She climbed down a set of metal steps and worked her way through the pipe-laden corridors, feeling a slight chill as she worked her way deeper into the bowels of the ship.
Her gun flew into her hand as she turned again, this time certain that there was someone behind her, adjusting her grip on the weapon as she backed up slowly. Darien had briefed them all on the Amsus Praetorian, demonic bug creatures with the capacity to become invisible whilst stalking their prey...
She fumbled for her TAC-link, dropping it nervously and cursing as she bent to pick it up.
"Hello." Rikard's voice called to her softly.
The gun went off in her hands, ricocheting through the dark shadows, whining as it impacted off of something else, shattering a pressure gauge. She jumped, looking around for the voice. Her weapon swung around, her feet firmly planted as her eyes narrowed.
"Lieutenant?" An engineer called down the service corridor, "Are you okay ma'am?"
She kept her weapon raised. "Alert Highlord Taine, and notify the bridge. Rikard is on the ship."