Be careful what you seek, because oft it should not be found.
Bridge - HMS Excalibur - Polian Sanctuary
OCCUPATION: DAY ONE-SEVENTY-THREE
Darien sank against a wall, feeling his hands begin to tremble. He took deep breaths to keep himself stable as he looked at the men around him, who were watching him in concern. He shook his head, willing himself to stand upright. It was his mistake, he'd trusted Wojciech, he'd brought him aboard. That meant it was up to him to finish it.
"They've reached the forward Damage Control Centre," a Dragoon sergeant was stating, holding up and spinning a battlefield laptop that tracked the movements of the Republicans through the ship. "The damage along the port side of the ship's limited us to only the main corridors, and they're not making it easy for us to pursue them."
Darien coughed. "I don't need this now," he muttered, trying to stay on his feet. "What can they do in forward Damage Control?"
"They'd prevent us being able to space them; not much use really in an atmosphere," the sarge admitted.
"They're nowhere near the forward magazine?" Darien pressed.
"Two decks down, and we've got that buttoned up tight," the sarge replied.
"Right," Darien pushed off, wavering a little as he started back down the deck, "let them have it for now; keep them contained and don't let them out. We'll work out how to get them out later, for now let's pick up the pieces."
Inside an elevator, he fumbled through the pockets of his fleece jacket, pulling out the pill bottle and slugging back a couple, swallowing them dry, cursing the frailties that debilitated him. At another time, in another place, he would have driven Wojciech and his men out. But the Excalibur was a mess, and he had to focus on the big picture; work out where they were and figure out their situation.
The deck heaved beneath him, the ship rattling its way through turbulence, buffeted in the low atmosphere as she limped her way through the clouds.
Darien caught hold of a rail as he pulled himself out onto the bridge, looking at Commander Durnham. "Report?"
"I would love to," Commander Durnham answered, turning, "but there isn't much to report, sir. Antigravity drives are stable for now, but we sustained significant damage along the port quarter." The hologram pointed out the observation window.
Darien stepped forward, looking in shock at the port side of his ship, the shredded armour and the twisted hull supports. A large section of his outer hull was simply gone, bare and exposed power conduits sparked as the clouds rolled about them.
"We were lucky," Durnham stated. "Excalibur jumped into the low atmosphere of a planet; it took all we had to get airborne again. However, the damage to our port forequarter took out our port rail cannons, knocked a gaping hole in our defensive screen, and the Ark-Royal..."
Darien turned, looking down at where the support carrier had been moored. There was nothing left.
"Where..." Darien began.
"It gets worse," Commander Durnham replied. "The Invincible wasn't secured for atmospheric conditions, and the sudden shift in the gravity axis has caused chaos down there. The hangar deck's in ruins and we're evacuating the remaining crew back to the Excalibur... I'm sorry sir."
Darien shook his head. "W-what?"
"This was my fault. I compensated to put us in orbit, but my calculations must have been off..." Commander Durnham looked pained and turned away.
Darien shook his head, leaning over the helm, punching commands into the console and reading the calculations. "They were exact," he replied, looking up, "we should have arrived in orbit..." He assessed the damage, reading through the system reports. "Can we get a dropship airborne? We need to look for survivors from the Ark-Royal..."
"Warlord," Doctor Casey exclaimed, picking her way through the bridge, Doctor Murphy in tow, "what happened?"
"We mis-jumped," Darien answered, crossing the deck to the damage control station, reading the reports. He leaned back and lifting a booted foot to kick the side of the console. Power flickered through it as damage reports streamed across the station. The holes in the hull prevented the ship from holding positive pressure. A number of her air tight bulkheads had failed entirely.
Darien shook his head, turning back to the helm console. "Altitude?"
"Ten thousand feet," Durnham read, "though it is impossible to say how long we can maintain it."
"We hit a mountain at ten thousand feet?" Darien asked, re-crossing the deck, "That's impossible."
"Sensors registered a stone object upon impact before they went off line," Durnham replied.
Darien looked up at the cloud bank they were passing through, cocking his head as he pointed to the damage control station, "retract the blast shield."
The shield protecting the cracked side of the observation dome retracted, sliding back upon itself to reveal more of the vista of clouds and spotted blue sky.
"Forward thrusters," Darien ordered leaning over the helm, fishing for his glasses and setting them on his nose. "Bring us out of the clouds slowly."
"What is it, Warlord?" Casey asked leaning on the Excalibur's command chair curiously.
"Field glasses," Darien ordered, snapping his fingers towards a midshipman.
There was a rush, and the midshipman produced a set of binoculars for him. Darien swept them up, watching as the clouds slipped by the bridge, the ship turning as it cleared the misty fog. His eyes searched the horizon, catching sight of a shadow in the distance. He brought the field glasses up, adjusted them as he zeroed in. "That was no mountain, Commander," Darien said. "That's the Polian sanctuary."
"My god," Murphy said, shaking his head. "It's floating... an island that's floating."
"The drifting compass," Darien concluded, "it was drifting because the ground was moving."
He lifted the binoculars again as the wounded Excalibur closed on the object it had hit. He scanned over the trees, noting the immense mushroom stalks rising out of the shadows.
"That isn't a sanctuary," he observed, lowering the glasses again.
"Peligia," Casey supplied, "it's Peligia?"
"We're going to find out," Darien answered, stopping as a flash of sunlight off of glass had him lifting the binoculars again, zeroing in on the island. He saw the shattered glass and steel of an office tower leaning precariously to one side.
"What?" Murphy asked. "What is it?"
"An omen," Darien replied, his jaw tightening. "The Black Tower."
"Orders, Your Lordship?" Durnham asked tightly.
"What are our options?" Darien turned the helm chair about and sat down in it, watching the RESCAP dropship blast off of the main flight deck. It angled about and swept over the bridge, spiralling down through the clouds to look for the downed Ark-Royal.
"Damage control teams are looking over the mess, but we have only one operational dropship, which is currently servicing the recovery of the Ark-Royal survivors. We have nothing else to attempt a vertical envelope."
"What?" Murphy asked in confusion.
"Airlifting troops ashore," Darien answered, considering the island. "We need to consider emergency procedures."
"We have escape pods," Commander Durnham replied, "I will make arrangements. The port side's out, but if we tried it with the starboard. Open up the starboard hatches we might be able to... Excalibur could keep station easily and we launch laterally they should reach the island."
"Make preparations," Darien ordered. "Do we have any fighters for a recon flight?"
"Everything we had was on the Ark-Royal," Durnham replied as he issued orders for the mooring, "we were keeping the main flight deck free for the recovery of forces from Karin. We do have four drop sleds with Heavy Assault Mechs and a support sled for troops."
"Take us up first," Darien ordered. "Drop the sleds on the island with a squad; we can use them to cover our mooring procedure and establish a beachhead." He shook his head, wishing Mayfair was there. The grizzled colonel would know exactly what they had to do.
The Excalibur laboured in her climb; the drop sleds needed altitude to deploy properly or else they would risk the precious equipment the sleds carried. He placed a reassuring hand on the Excalibur's helm as he monitored her. She was badly damaged, but she fought to keep her trim valiantly, and Darien felt a great pride in his ship. She knew her job wasn't over and, though she struggled, she would get him there.
The alarms ringing out from the engineering console, however, had a different opinion.
Forward Damage Control - HMS Excalibur - Polian Sanctuary
OCCUPATION: DAY ONE-SEVENTY-THREE
Wojciech clutched the edge of the computer station, reading the data that scrawled across the sensor feed. "We're in an atmosphere." He looked over at Sholtzski. "But where?"
"What the hell is Taine doing?" Sholtzski ranted, and Wojciech could read the fear in the Captain's eyes. This hadn't been part of his great plan, to be stranded aboard a ship with no idea where they were.
He stood with a collection of Spetznas officers who shared his anger, armed and ready. Wojciech realized that unless he did something, Sholtzski would do something rash. Too long out of the field, the Captain had become accustomed to the stability of his own command, a ship that responded to his orders and the absolute dominion that being a master and commander afforded.
"The bridge is located abaft of our current location," Wojciech reported, leaning over the large map of the ship on a situation table used for co-ordinating damage control efforts. The map was bathed in system errors, errors that were spreading as system failures began to cascade. "We can't reach it, the bulk of Taine's forces are going to be between us and him, and he will know we're coming."
There was a deep thump from within the bowls of the ship, followed by a rapid succession of five smaller thumps.
"Drop sleds," one of the Spetznas officers reported. "He's dropping heavy equipment."
Wojciech glanced over the board. "He could be preparing in case he has to abandon ship, Taine isn't a stupid man..."
"And it could be a ploy to deceive us," Sholtzski responded. "We need to conduct a raid, seize their engine room. That will give us control of the ship."
Wojciech shook his head. "We don't have the strength to break through, Comrade Captain, we have no idea where we are. We should consider contacting Taine and..."
"Let him dictate terms?" Sholtzski demanded. "No, we should find a way to rig a demolitions charge on the ship's reactor, and then let me dictate terms to Taine..."
"Comrade Captain," Wojciech tried to keep his tone even, "this ship is crippled. Taine has to be considering an abandonment scenario. If we attempt to seize it, he may sabotage the ship himself and we could find ourselves trapped."
Sholtzski contemplated what his executive officer was saying, pacing around the small control room, looking at his men carefully. A dutiful commander, weighing the lives of the men under his command against the possible gains. He looked back at Wojciech.
"You're right, we have to consider the abandonment scenario. Taine has to have a plan, one that can serve to get our people back home. I think we should split the force." He leaned over the situation map, reading the damage for himself. "You take the bulk of our force and reach the starboard escape pods; get to the surface. Meanwhile, I will take a strike team of six and head for the reactor. Securing that should give us some leverage, failing that we have a contingency plan."
"Good luck, Comrade Captain," Wojciech said, offering a salute, getting up and grabbing his maser rifle and hooking it into his belt power pack. "Lieutenant, round up the men and equipment, we're moving out."
Sholtzski pointed to six men, picking up a satchel of demolitions charges as they prepared to go. The two senior officers gave each other a stout nod as they departed the control room.
Bridge - HMS Excalibur - Polian Sanctuary
OCCUPATION: DAY ONE-SEVENTY-THREE
"Sir," Commander Durnham moved away from the other crewmembers to join Darien at the command chair, "Excalibur's antigravity systems are failing... In my frank assessment sir, it's time to consider sounding the abandon ship."
Darien frowned, touching the command chair, feeling the weight of the soul behind the chair. The concern she had for her crew, the pain floating there. Darien looked around him as consoles flared and flickered, systems suffering cascade failures as the ship flew over the island below.
"Where's RESCAP?" he asked quietly.
"It's just touched down on the main flight deck; they're attaching lift cables so it can airlift one of the last jeeps down to the island." Commander Durnham shifted. "I don't give this recommendation lightly, Your Lordship, but Excalibur isn't going to be airborne much longer."
Darien stared at the Commander. "I-I can't," he whispered, shaken.
"Darien," Durnham said quietly, "she has done all that she can do, she got you to Peligia. Your crew needs you to issue the order, while they are still able to evacuate."
Darien reached for the growler phone attached to the command chair. Lifting it up, he looked at his crew about him, and lump in his throat and his eyes burning; he tried to find the words, pressing the button as he turned to face them.
"All hands, this is a ship wide call, abandon ship. Proceed to your designated evacuation modules and take what equipment you can. RESCAP, hold for command crew." He let the receiver drop as an alert no Captain ever wanted to hear repeated his words throughout the ship, a hollow tone to his voice as it replayed again and again. Crewmen around the bridge turning from their stations, shock on their faces as they cleanly and professionally walked away.
Marching back to his stateroom, Darien pulled off his uniform. Grabbing combat fatigues he quickly changed, taking his shard weapon and clipping it to his belt as he checked for other things that he needed. Commander Durnham walking with him, reporting that the first batch of escape pods were away.
Darien nodded, trying to maintain his composure as he tossed things into a backpack; the afghan blanket, the Excalibur's log book, the alien clock. He stopped picking up the Peligian diary, the curse in its pages promising that whoever sought Peligia would pay in blood.
He had no idea what that cost meant until that moment.
He threw the book into the bag with its hexagonal key. Taking a moment to look out of the great stateroom windows, his hand resting on the flat table, "I-," he began, agonizing over that moment.
"Sir, you must go," Commander Durnham warned, "we're losing altitude."
Darien nodded, pushing VonGrippen's pocket watch into his fatigues as he slung the bag up to his shoulders, feeling the deck begin to list under his feet. He jogged across the deck, kicking the quick releases to the computer core as he slid down inside, looking at the pale blue liquid core. He took a couple of seconds to kneel beside it, pressing the flat of his palm against the surface, as close to her as he could ever get.
"Thank you," he whispered to her.
He stood, closing the flat panelled core that contained Commander Durnham's consciousness, clutching it tight against him as he hurried back up the ladder.
His voice echoed again from the PA above him, calling the order to abandon ship. He stared about the bridge, saluting a final time and remembering when he had first come aboard her.
Elias, Nazzien, Shale, Lauren, Kendrick and him, six lost souls looking for hope.
He turned and ran for the emergency stairs.
The black coat draped around the command chair made a silent promise as the life began to drain from the ship.
Starboard side - HMS Excalibur - Polian Sanctuary
OCCUPATION: DAY ONE-SEVENTY-THREE
The evacuation order rang out again.
Sholtzski led his men on a dead run through the ship, watching first the escape pods blow away from the Excalibur as it began to list heavily. Then a lone dropship carrying a jeep swept off the stricken flight deck, hatches open with a man staring out, holding onto the brace rail.
The Republican felt his steps falter. He stopped in the window, staring out at that man, wind whipping his hair as he stood, a look on his face that no starship commander could ever mistake.
"Taine," Sholtzski surmised, looking about him at the empty deck. The last batch of escape pods were rocketing away from the Excalibur.
"Sir?" one of his soldiers asked.
Sholtzski shook his head, sitting down on the deck and tossing his rifle aside. He sat, staring out of the window at the enemy commander, knowing that he was going to die.
EX-01 - Polian Sanctuary - Unknown Location
OCCUPATION: DAY ONE-SEVENTY-THREE
The Excalibur dropped down past the edge of the horizon, her broken and battered hull gracefully slipping from view as the dropship curved about, dropping to the edge of the island where the four Assault Mechs lumbered forward, guarding the three hundred survivors who clung to each other, watching their ship die.
The dropship landed and Darien jumped down. He handed his gear off to another crew member and walked forward, banging out his 49er's hat. He looked about him, feeling the moment as he pulled it low over his eyes.
"We need to find shelter," he ordered, noting a rustle and a commotion back at the tree-line.
Darien drew his shard weapon and crossed the grass to investigate, a couple of Dragoons sighting in weapons on a pair of women walking out of the trees. Darien felt the shard weapon drop to his side, recognizing one of them instantly.
"Darien," Lauren held up her rifle, tossing it aside. "You took your time in getting here."
THE END OF BOOK IV