Karin City
Karin System, Apilon Rift
Friday 20th April 2745 (Imperial Standard Time)
Muffled bells tolled over Karin City as the snow descended lazily upon a silent city. The great street that ran through the centre of the city, until it reached the wide steps that led up to the Karin Fortress high upon the plateau above the city, was lined with onlookers as far as the eye could see. Upon the steps a group of Karin Guardsmen were carrying a coffin draped in the yellow wolfs’ head flag of House Von Karin slowly, step-by-step, the long climb to the Fortress. The normally bustling city had ground to a halt as the Karin Guard, accompanied by representatives from every other Imperial House, and the Imperial Military, lined the route from the majestic Karin Cathedral to the Fortress. High above the world a vast armada that had escorted the casket from Earth where it had lain in state for over a week, now sat in a eerily quiet orbital space, almost unheard for the Capital of the Apilon Rift, as those from near and far paid their respects.
Walker Von Karin, Highlord of the Apilon Rift, Duke of Karin, Earl of Eisenhower and Baron Karin, was returning home for the last time.
One of the men most responsible for the restoration of the Terran Empire sixty-five years previously had breathed his last two weeks previously. The stress and strain of his position, combined with his excess and abuse of alcohol during his despair prior to the arrival of the idealistic Darien Cain on Karin, had finally taken its toll. Already too old to receive the Prolong treatment that had more than doubled Terran lifespans, the trials of his life had ensured that Walker Von Karin would give his last full measure of devotion to the Empire that he had spent his life serving; his heart giving out on the floor of the Imperial Senate. The first Lord High Steward of the Terran Empire, a man highly respected across Terran space, was gone and the universe seemed a darker place for it. Men, women and children from all across the Empire were stopping what they were doing and remembering the last and first Imperial Duke as he made his final journey through the city that he had led with unparalleled courage.
As the casket and it’s honour guard disappeared onto the plateau at the top of the steps the first of the artillery guns on the front lawn of the Karin Fortress boomed the beginning of a twenty-one gun salute to a fallen Highlord. The bangs echoed over the silent city, the silence in between each pregnant with expectation. Out of sight of the public, and indeed all but the immediate Von Karin family, Walker would be laid to rest in the Von Karin family tomb on the grounds of the Fortress. The new Highlord of Karin and Duke of the Apilon Rift, Thomas Von Karin, Walker’s eldest son, had been walking behind his father’s casket with a thousand-yard stare. It was not surprising, really, given that his entire life had been ripped apart. Not only was his beloved father gone, not halfway through his sons prolong-enhanced life, but his career in the Imperial Navy had come to an abrupt end. Thomas had begun his service during the Hegemony War, and was one of the first generation of officers to conduct their career under the influence of the prolong treatment, and had risen to the rank of Captain.
Now the eighty-five year old scion of House Von Karin, who due to prolong looked more like his mid thirties, was the Highlord of an Imperial House.
Jessica Harrington, who had been young enough to benefit from the prolong treatment and therefore looked in her late forties despite being ninety-two, stood on the steps of the Karin Cathedral watching the procession disappear out of view in the distance. It was a deep blow to her personally; by the end of the Hegemony War, some fifty-five years previously, she had become close to Walker von Karin and the loss of such a close personal friend, especially in the near age of prolong, was difficult to say the least.
Given the occasion she wore her naval uniform, wearing all of her medals and awards and the rank insignia of an Admiral of the Fleet, but this was a rarity these days. In order to allow for the upward mobility of the the new generations of naval officers coming up under prolong, and therefore having a vastly longer career timescale, Jessica and many of the senior officers who had been able to receive prolong had stepped aside and voluntarily gone onto half pay. It was not without some practical logic as well, as it ensured that the Imperial Navy would retain a corps of experienced commanders in reserve, and suitable for commanding the various House Defence Fleets. Jessica of course remained both an Imperial Highlord, and thus had a direct role in the day-to-day running of the Imperial Government, but also retained command of the Emperor’s Own, the troubleshooting squadron of the Imperial Navy, but aside from routine training exercises it had been some time since it had needed to deploy operationally. Since the end of the Andromeda War the Terran Empire had, largely, been at peace.
There were some, Jessica included, who felt that the Empire was becoming dangerously complacent, but despite support for that viewpoint from the highest level the Imperial Senate was loath to invest in new ships and new weapons systems when there was clearly no need for them. It was only the personal authority of the Emperor, and the Imperial Warlord Darien Cain, that had ensured that the Imperial Navy had remained at an acceptable size, and that evolutionary upgrades were installed during refits to ensure that Imperial Warships maintained their edge, but it had been a long time since Naval R&D had had the funding to turn out something truly revolutionary. Deep down Jessica knew why, of course; it was an expensive job rebuilding the Empire after centuries of occupation by an uncaring alien species, and rebuilt they had in many respects, but it went against her every instinct to not keep her proverbial sword as sharp as possible. And yet, every year that had passed without a major threat or crisis had only served to vindicate those in the Senate that argued against increasing military funding in the face of a non-non-existent threat.
“You look frustrated, my dear,” Emperor Edward V, who at eighty-six looked like he was in his early forties, his younger age upon receiving prolong meant that he would remain in his forties, physically, for several decades. “Did Walker owe you some money?”
Despite herself Jessica cracked a smile; although he was no longer, quite, the young man he had once been, Walker still retained his sense of humour and his ability to instantly put people at ease, despite his position and personal power.
“No, of course not… I was just thinking about everything, and how we’ve lost a powerful ally on the Senate floor,” Jessica sighed heavily, Walker had been as strong supporter of her faction. “I know what Thomas feels the way we do, but…”
“But he is not Walker,” Edward agreed. “Don’t worry overly much, I’ll never let the fleet get so run-down we can’t defend ourselves.”
“I know, it’s just that we beat the Hegemony so decisively because we had such a technological advantage over them; if we had not then hundreds of thousands more would have died in the Navy alone… and Andromeda, the Asgar would have destroyed Unity,” Jessica countered. “I know that we needed to focus on rebuilding the Empire, and I know we can’t expect those that were under the heel of the Amsus for so long to support taking any longer than necessary to rebuild their standard of living, its just frustrating.”
“I know; trust me I’m as frustrated as you are… and I know Walker was too; he wouldn’t have over done himself during the last debate if he didn’t feel passionately about the cause,” Edward replied firmly. “But the fact of the matter is that the former Terran Occupied Zone makes up the bulk of our Empire now, and whilst we fought to liberate them, we cannot truly understand their experience, or afford to ignore their voice.”
Jessica nodded with a frustrated sigh.
“I just don’t like it, Edward,” Jessica scowled. “Especially not when my own are out there.”
At this Edward smiled.
“How are the twins?”
“They’re doing well, all things considered,” Jessica replied, finally smiling with quiet pride. “Both Commanders now, Edward just got a posting on the staff of the Third Fleet, and Kara just got her first command, an old Biter-Class destroyer.”
“She’ll be loving that,” Edward commented wryly. “She was always one for history, so to serve on an old warhorse…”
“Is a dream come true for her,” Jessica agreed. “From her last message it sounds like she’s loving it.”
Commander Kara Harrington IN
HMS Ranger DD-908
New Cornwall Star System, Charybdis Sector
Friday 20th April 2745 (Imperial Standard Date)
The gentle murmur of routine conversation, intermingled with the occasional beep, chirp or other sound from the consoles, were the only stones of the bridge of the Imperial Destroyer Ranger as she sat in orbit over one of the Terran Empire’s newer colonies; New Cornwall. The reason for this comparative quiet was simple enough; the Captain was on the bridge and the bridge crew wanted to make a good impression on their comparatively new Captain. In general the Imperial Navy frowned upon a ship’s Captain spending too much time on the bridge, outside of critical evolutions where the Captain was expected to be on the bridge, as it tended to cause undue stress upon the crew with their Captain watching over them, and it prevented junior Officers of the Watch from gaining valuable experience during routine transits. Aside from anything else a Starship Captain had far too much paperwork to be getting on with to be spending too much time standing a bridge duty watch. Of course, no one would blame their Captain for wanting to spend a little time on their own bridge, especially on this, her first command. So Commander Kara Harrington sat quietly on the bridge, watching and ploughing through some duty manifests at the same time.
Commander Harrington, the daughter of renowned naval officer and Highlady, Jessica Harrington, had faced more than a little trials and tribulations on her journey to this point in her career. As soon as she had become aware, at the Imperial Naval Academy, that there would be those who would assume she had only got to where she was because of her family name, she had steadfastly moved to distance herself from her mother’s influence and made it entirely clear that she was determined to make it or break it in the Emperor’s service on the merits of her own service. For all the patronage that existed in the Imperial Navy, and there certainly was, especially in peacetime, Kara Harrington was determined to forge her own path. Of course, now that she had passed the infamous Commanding Officer’s Tactical Course, dubbed the Punisher due to its high failure rate, she rather suspected that those trying to claim she was coasting on patronage would decrease rather rapidly; no amount of influence could help an officer pass the Punisher if they were not up to the challenge. Her reward for passing that hardest of challenges was her first command; the Destroyer Ranger. She might be nearly sixty years old, older than Kara (even if she looked like she was in her late twenties thanks to Prolong), but she was Kara’s ship, and she had a hell of a battle record to boot.
And to a history nut like Kara, that was one hell of an added bonus.
Fortunately, although the space frame was certainly ageing, and was showing it in some cases, the technology aboard had recently been refitted and by and large the ship was in good shape. Which was a good thing considering as the old destroyer had been stationed out at New Cornwall Colony, one of the Empire’s newest colonies in the the Charybdis Sector. The sector was the relatively thin wedge of space that the Terran Empire had claimed in order to connect up the Dark Times-era House Kardiac stronghold of the Tempus System with the rest of the Empire; specifically the Zeta Vontaris Sector. The relative newness of the colony, only a few years old, and the quietness of the area meant that a ship larger than a destroyer was not required. Sure, there was the Polian Republic, the one-time trading partners turned foes of the Empire, but the Polians had long ago closed their borders and no one had seen anything from them in centuries and it seemed unlikely to change.
Between this, and the small but powerful and well trained Kardiac House Defence Fleet based at Tempus, meant that the Admiralty had been able to get away with stationing a single destroyer as military guardship for New Cornwall, allowing larger ships to be retained for other duties. It was not exactly the most challenging assignment in the world, but there was enough civilian traffic (and smuggling) to keep Kara’s attention and to allow her to ease in to command before being thrown into the fire.
“Signal from surface, Ma’am,” Lieutenant Webster, her communications officer, reported crisply.
“Put it up,” Kara ordered crisply, placing her tablet down. “On screen.”
On the main view screen overlay over the forward viewports appeared a ruddy-faced man with curly hair, cracking a smile as he did so.
“Commander Harrington.”
“Captain Henshawe,” Kara replied with a smile of her own, addressing him by his retired rank in the Imperial Army, as was common for former officers who did not have some form of title; Henshawe was also the administrator planet-side. “How can I help you today?”
“As much as I wish this were a social call, its business,” Henshawe replied. “We’ve found something I think you should see down one of the mines.”
*******
Just under an hour later Kara stepped down from a fleet shuttle and onto a grassy ridge just above one of several mines that were part of the reason why New Cornwall had been chosen for colonisation. Given that it was still, in many respects, a frontier colony, Kara had stopped by the armoury on her way down to the hanger deck and requisitioned herself a pulse pistol, just in case, which she know wore in a holster on the belt of her uniform. She looked around herself and saw Captain Henshawe standing with a group of miners, and for all he wore civilians clothes he stood with the posture of a military officer. Kara made her way over and shook hands with the closest thing to her civilian counterpart, as well as several of the miners in form of greeting. Eager to find out what they had found Kara gestured to the entrance to the mine and followed Henshawe into the above-ground building. Given the desire to preserve the natural beauty of the planet the mine was, in many respects, old-old-school in that rather than strip-mining the place they had dug shafts and gone in the old-fashioned way; albeit with modern equipment and safety precautions. Fortunately rather than a ladder to climb down the miners had installed an elevator that took them down.
Once they were some distance down they left the elevator made their way through the tunnels until they reached a far larger chamber; one that looked like it had been there far before the tunnel had breached into it. This assumption was proven correct a few moments later when the made their way into a tunnel that had clearly been in place for some time, as someone had begun to put up proper physical walls.
“What is all this?” Kara queried softly as they made their way forwards.
“That’s what we thought, Ma’am,” Henshawe commented with a nod. “We’ve not a chance to examine it too much, but its at least two or three centuries old.”
“So it dates back as far as the Old Empire,” Kara replied with a frown. “It looks like a bunker.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Henshawe nodded, leading her into a small room with several computer. “This, however is not.”
Kara frown deepened for a moment; the computers were clearly several centuries old. It was only then that she saw the corpse that was sticking out from behind the row of computer stations. Stepping closer her confusion deepened; the body was at least nine feet tall and it could only be described as almost biomechnical; there was certainly enough augmentations to the form to be noticeable. It was this that identified the species to her, a historian at heart.
“What, the hell, is a Polian doing down here?”
“We were wondering what species it was, Ma’am, its been a long time since anyone from the Empire has seen a Polian outside of a history book, and history was never my strong point in school,” Henshawe replied with a slight smile as he knelt down beside the corpse and looked at it with a frown. “The bigger question is that this corpse is clearly not three hundred years old, indeed our scanners suggest that its probably been down here less time than the colony has been here.”
“That, is not good,” Kara frowned. “The first indication that the Polians are beyond their borders in centuries and its hiding on an Imperial Colony world?”
“It doesn’t bode well,” Henshawe agreed. “It also looks like he was killed by a Polian blade; which means that there was at least one other Polian here and, for some reason, they had a falling out.”
“Fantastic, that’s all we need,” Kara sighed. “Alright then, I should be getting back to Ranger… I need to signal the Admiralty.”
