Those who live by the sword...

[Echo 7-7]

==========DRAMATIS PERSONAE==========

Dane "Titus" Kinnaird
Fleet Marshal of the Hellfire Legion
call sign: Acerbitas

John Hargraves
Fleet Captain, commanding officer of the Cruiser Carnifex
call sign: Frost

Marius Royce
Fleet Master, Logistics Division
call sign: Praetorian

Symon O'Brian
Star Captain, Special Operations and Armed Reconnaisance Division
call sign: Hellhound

Damien Slade
Executive Commander, commanding officer of the Battleship Leviathan
call sign: Imperator

Joseph Dread
Assault Reconnaissance Flight Leader
call sign: Recon Seven

==========PART I, CHAPTER ONE==========

At the Tower of Heroes

The Tower contained some of the Legion's most venerated relics. Trophies of war decorated the halls, interspersed with memorials to fallen Legionnaires. There was a sharp juxtaposition of chrome-plated weapons hanging in one place, and crude hand-painted murals in another alcove. It was a place where the Legion celebrated the honoured fallen.

In the center of the tower, there was a great vaulted door. At all times, a pair of armed guards stood sentinel in front of it. They wore the black-and-crimson armour of the Legion Stormtroopers, with one unique feature: their full-face helmets were painited in the shape of a skull, in dull, gun-metal grey. This was the sign of the Legion's close-quarter combat veterans, the Crimson Guard; Legionnaires sword to defending the High Command at any cost, and leading the most dangerous of ship-to-ship boarding actions. It was only appropriate that they guarded the entrance to the Lord Commander's Solarium.

Behind the first door, which could be opened by the Guards or a member of High Command, was a small, unimpressive room with a computer terminal set into the wall on one side. From here, one could send a message to the Solarium proper, to request an audience with the Lord Commander. The next door would only open with confrimation of the Lord Commander's biometrics. Past the door, a winding spiral stair case wrapped around an elevator shaft that spanned the height of the tower. At the top was the Solarium.

For those rare few people who had seen the entirety of Fort Leniex, the Solarium was one of the most unique chambers in the whole station. Each previous occupant had left their own mark on the room. Some were tastefully selected artworks, others personal mementos which would have little meaning to an outsider, and a few things still were literally marks. The newest addition to the room was an old-model tachyon blaster, salvaged from an old Legion fighter. If one was to look closely enough, you could just make out the word "Hellflurry" stamped on the barrel, next to some faded and indistinguishable numbers. Underneath the weapon was a small metal plate with a brief message engraved:

"For all they that take the sword
shall perish with the sword."

Departure

Dane Kinnaird was once an ambitious young man when he had first been inducted into the Hellfire Legion. Now, the weight of command had taxed him, even after such a short time - barely a year - as Lord Commander. The rest of High Command had tired of his increasing reclusiveness, having left junior officers in charge on the front lines. He had taken extended trips outside of Vespucci on diplomatic missions to visit the Legion's allies, but they were disgruntled with the lack of clear progress. At last, a clique within Command, spearheaded by Admiral Brass, had demanded that Kinnaird step down as Lord Commander, so that another more fit for the role could take up the mantle.

Dane sat at the desk, the central feature of the Solarium. A heavy piece of furniture, recovered years ago from the wreckage of a commercial freighter that the Legion had not been able to rescue in time. Now engraved with the Legion's motto, it served as a constant reminder of their duty to all who gazed upon it. Usually, the desk would be covered with documents and datapads; today it was cleared, save for the portable optronic computer set in the centre. He paused over the keyboard, and re-read his final address to the Legion.

To: Hellfire Legion [all]
Encryption: Upsilon-Five
Subject: Changes

This is Lord Commander Kinnaird speaking.

As you have no doubt been informed by your squadron leaders, this day is the last day I shall address you with the title of Lord Commander. For various reasons, and after pressure from several members of Legion High Command, I am stepping down as Lord Commander. I pass on the title to Admiral Markus Brass, an energetic and passionate warrior who I feel will be a strong figurehead to lead the Legion into the new year.

As is the way of previous High Commanders, I am taking the formal rank of Fleet Marshal. For now I will remain a member of the Legion, as an advisory attache, and as a diplomatic representative to some of our more distant contacts. I have unfinished business to attend to; personal projects that may in the future serve the Legion in its quest.

Legionnaires, it has been an honour. Together we have known victory and defeat, bloodshed and battle. Those who live by the sword will die by the sword, and I would not have it any other way. Remember always the words of our motto:

Libera Te Ex Infernis!

Dane Kinnaird, over and out.

Satisfied, Kinnaird saved the message and added it to the Legion communications network, with a twelve-hour delay before the message was sent. He punched in a series of commands; resetting the Solarium's biometric codes to open for Admiral Brass when the message was transmitted. Dane stood up from the desk, closing the screen of the optronic and placing it in his ruggedised briefcase.

Kinnaird looked down at his hands. They were shaking.
This is no time to stall. I'm doing what I need to do.
He took a deep breath.
For every door that closes, another one opens.
Dane removed the badge of Lord Commander which had been pinned on his jacket, above the heart, and placed it gently down on the desk. A golden skull with crimson wings stared back at him; glaring, smiling, and judging all at the same time. Dane felt as if a weight had been taken of his chest - it was true both literally and metaphorically.
I hope it looks as good on the chest of the next man to bear it.

Picking up his briefcase, he took one last look around the Solarium.
Somehow, I don't think I'm going to miss this place.
Dane pulled up his hooded cloak and swept out of the room.

Burning Bridges

"Pre-launch checks complete, sir. All stations report ready."
"Good. Is the mission cargo aboard?"
"Cargo bay 3, captain."
"Very well..."

Captain Hargraves' communicator chimed. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the message. A momentary look of anxiety crossed his face.
"Captain, is everything alright?"
Hargraves spared a frown for the comms officer.
"Send a ship-wide message. Prepare to launch in ten minutes."
"Aye aye, Captain. Launch in ten minutes."

The door to the Carnifex's bridge slid open and Dane Kinnaird strode onto the bridge.
"Officer on deck!"
The bridge crew snapped to attention, forming the shape of the flaming skull with their hands, the Legion's salute.
"At ease, Legionnaires."
The Captain grasped Kinnaird's hand in a firm shake.
"Dane, it's good to see you!"
"It has been far too long, John. You're looking well."
"Indeed. Wish I could say the same for you, though. Honestly? You look like a wreck."
"The last few weeks have been... tense. Things will be changing very soon. Do you remember that discussion we had a while ago?"
Hargraves nodded slowly, remembering.
"Things are getting that bad? Holy hell."
"Yeah. It's time for me to branch out a bit. This ship is going to be away from home for quite some time. Is the crew ready?"
"They're as ready as they'll ever be. Most of the officers are directly loyal to us, and the crewmen will be fine if they're treated well. The only thing I'm concerned about is the tension between ex-Xenos crewmen and the Unioner engineers. I've been keeping a close eye on the situation."
"We don't have time for petty squabbles. Just make sure that both groups are under control when we need them."
"Of course, Dane. You wouldn't have given me command of this ship if you didn't think I could work around that, right?"
"Right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to retire to my quarters. Wake me when we get to the Phoenix."
"Got it."

"Mooring clamps are disconnected, captain. Leniex control has given us clearance to launch."
"All engines ahead, half impulse. Take us out nice and slow."
"Aye aye."
"Once we're clear of the perimeter, bring us about to these coordinates..."
Hargraves typed the coordinates into the navigational console.
"... and bring us up to cruise."
"Coordinates confirmed. We'll be there in three hours."

From the Ashes

"Sirs, we're approaching the Phoenix Deconstruction Site. Scanners are showing the HFL Gamma One moored at airlock three."
"Dane, I assume you were expecting company?"
"I didn't tell you to go here because the rocks were pretty. Helm, take us into airlock two."
"Affirmative, Commander."

"Hard seal locked. We're registering standard pressurisation on decks nine through twelve; anything lower and you'll need an EV suit."
"This is just a precaution, ensign." Kinnaird tapped on the helmet clipped to his waist.
"Regardless, I won't be gone very long. Captain Hargraves is coming with me. XO, you have the bridge."

---

The Phoenix Deconstruction Site, otherwise known as just "the Phoenix", was an empty husk, the last vestiges of the Legion's first base in the system, the Phoenix Shipyard. Without it, their expansion could not have been possible, but years later it was shut down and the manufacturing and repair facilities were transferred to Fort Leniex. The Phoenix was then stripped down to its bare bones, considered to no longer be of any worth, and potentially compromising for security patrols needing to travel a great distance to reach it.

These details made it the perfect location for a clandestine meeting away from prying eyes.

---

"Kinnaird, such summons are business of energetic young men. What would you bring my humble self out to this place for un such short notice?"
"How can you dismiss the orders of the Lord Com-"
"Calm yourself, Captain Hargraves. Master Royce, prince of smugglers, may be aged of body but still sharp of mind... and of tongue. At ease, the both of you."
The three men sat themselves down around a plain, scuffed table, the last of the furnishings of what was once the base's mess hall. Only a few of the light fittings remained, leaving most of the hall in sombre gloom.
"By now, both of you may have begun to suspect why I have brought you here. The two of you have been loyal supporters during my tenure as Lord Commander, so I shall tell you the truth. It pains me that I will have to reveal certain things to you, but I do not know how much time I have left to take action before it is all to late."
Kinnaird took a deep breath to compose himself.
"A group of higher-ranking officers, led by Admiral Markus Brass, have presented me with an ultimatum: I must step down from my position as Lord Commander of the Legion, or they intend to start a civil war to remove me from power. They claimed that I no longer had the Legion's interests at heart, that my seclusion was self-serving and my diplomatic endeavours fruitless."
"Such audacity... how can you let it go unpunished?"
"My old friend, the saddest thing is that I have no choice in the matter. Whether they believe this to be the truth, or whether they are being persuaded by some other influence is immaterial. There is no way that I could let my efforts be cast aside amidst a mindless rampage. Twelve hours from now, a priority message will be transmitted across all Legion channels, announcing my resignation as Lord Commander."
"You cannot be serious! You have men loyal to you, more than enough to contain a smaller group of officers."
"That is true, but the effect it would have on the whole Legion's morale would be incalculably disasterous. I have endeavoured to portray myself as a fair and just Lord Commander; if word leaked that I executed officers who questioned my authority, where would that leave me?"
"These are grim tidings, indeed."
"Once, many years ago, even before I joined the Legion, there was an incident we simply call the Uprising. Legionnaire turned on Legionnaire, as a group of young, idealistic officers wrested power from the older warriors. It is a good thing that they did; their actions took the Legion from little better than unlawful mercenaries to the idealistic zealots we are today."
Dane rose and began to pace around the table.
"However, the Uprising cost the lives of many Legionnaires, and annihilated the Destroyer Asmodai, the sister ship of the Abaddon. Given the new armaments the Legion now posseses, the damage caused by a similar incident would be orders of magnitude greater... it could very well be the bell that tolls for the Legion."
"Surely you won't let those madmen seize control of the Legion without a fight?"
"I ardently desire that such a situation would never occur, but short of divine intervention, all the indicators are pointing towards this inevitability. Worse, this fractiousness is occuring just when the Liberty Navy might be directing more of its forces away from the Rheinland borders and towards the Gallic war front."
"What do you propose we do? We three men cannot fight the entire Navy."
"I have also been rallying Legionnaires loyal to me personally, not as a figurehead, and who do not have ties to Brass' cadre. Above all, the Legion is a collective of individuals, whose energy and anger is channelled and given purpose by the leadership. If our leadership is not cohesive, the primal anger lurking beneath the surface of many Legionnaires will become unstoppably self-destructive. The right people in the right place at the right time will make a huge difference; it would mean the difference between utter annihilation and being forced to hide in the shadows for a very long time. I have come so far now that I, quite frankly, refuse to die. I will not let a fool's ambition ruin my life's work, and I will certainly not get caught by the Liberty Navy. So... are you with me?"
"We have been sitting here and listening to you rather patiently for the last half an hour. I would consider this a sign of acceptance."
"Even if we didn't agree with you, Dane, it sounds like it's the best way to save our own skins and not end up in a prison cell. Aye, we're with you, all right."
Kinnaird rubbed his eyes and sat back down in his chair.
"You have my most sincere thanks. Now, I must outline briefly my instructions for the two of you..."

---

"Alright, repeat those orders back to me. I want to be sure you've got the details right."
"The Logistics department will withdraw a range of supplies from Legion reserves and deposit them at the designated bases under a range of aliases. Some of these will be used as emergency supplies for any Legionnaires who choose to depart and take no side in the conflict. The remaining goods will be transferred to the ships whose officers and crew are loyal to you, so that they can resupply without returning to Vespucci. When the supply drops are complete, the Logistics ships will return to their standard duties, in order to avoid raising suspicion. I will take my own transport and rendezvous with the Leviathan."
"Good. John?"
"The Carnifex will hold position in Magellan. We'll use our Spyglass array to keep track of all Legion movement in the system; the ship will be a transmission hub to keep all of our communications secure. Depending on how this all turns out, the Carnifex will regroup with the Leviathan, or proceed directly to the Bering system and take refuge with the Unioners."
"Very well. I will take my personal fighter and locate the Revenant, which is currently hidden deep inside the Leniex Cloud. I'm sorry, but I cannot disclose the precise coordinates, even to you. I will wait on board the Revenant until all of the my loyal ships indicate that they're in position and ready for action. Remember, the Excalibur is confirmed to be on our side, and it will also be hiding out in Bering. The Iblis has returned to Magellan as per my instructions, under the guise of returning to Leniex for a refit. The Abaddon is still attached to TF Warhammer, and is moored at Ouray; the ship's captain is doing his best to transfer any disagreeable officers to various gunboats and transports."
Dane stood up from the table.
"Gentlemen... good luck."

---

"Ravager jump contol to Carnifex, your approach vector is clear. You may jump when ready."
"Roger that. All hands stand by for Jump sequence! Helm, take us into the wormhole."

To be continued...

[Echo 7-7]

==========PART I, CHAPTER TWO==========

// WIP //

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There was a sig here, once.