STARSIEGE
Original Fiction
fic.knight.doc
By Blake Hutchins
March 13, 1998
Sierra, Dynamix  1997
Proprietary and NOT Public Domain

Purpose
The purpose of this document is to illustrate the culture and views of the elite Imperial Knights.

THROUGH THE EYES OF AN IMPERIAL KNIGHT

	“Colossa Eun Alba and Levarex Singh, Knights-Captain of His Imperial Majesty’s Order of the Knights of the Rising Earth!”  The herald’s voice keyed hidden amplifiers and tolled into the Jubilee gathering.  Some of the glittering crowd paused for a moment to taste the names, to decide, Eun Alba thought, whether he and Oliphant were important enough to deserve attention.  Most of the faces turned away, though some few did continue to observe the Knights’ entrance.  Well, he and Oliphant were late.  Couldn’t be helped, the lateness.
	They’d pay attention if they knew I came fresh from killing someone, Eun Alba thought, smiling grimly.  Or if they knew I’m not finished yet.  His side ached where the Skeleton had marked him in the duel earlier.
	Eun Alba strode down the stair with the pride and confidence befitting an Imperial Knight.  Beside him, Oliphant muttered complaints at the tight collars of their dress uniforms.  The floor of the Grand Ballroom was a black mirror stretching away on all sides beneath a vast ceiling supported by ribs of white marble.  The Emperor’s guests sparkled on that mirrored floor, mingling lazily beneath emerald banners adorned with the Imperial Angel of Earth.  Glowlamps seemed to float above the throng, suspended by hidden means.  Eun Alba descended into a murmur of conversation woven with a strain of gentle music.  He took a glass of champagne from the servant at the bottom of the stair.  Oliphant, he noted amusedly, took both a champagne and a brandy.
	Oliphant leaned against a pillar and pointed.  “Gaea’s Bricks, did you ever see anything so silly?”
	A pair of ornate, gold plated Gorgon-class Hercs towered over the crowd, their armor etched and decorated with Aztec emblems.  The one on the left carried the Aztec solar calendar on its upper torso, the one on the right bore the leering face of an ancient god.  The machines gleamed under the glowlamps, titanic guardians there to show Imperial power more than to provide any actual protection.  Despite their unusual appearance, the Hercs kept the standard Techau-Sauvage plasma cannons on either side, Imperial streamers cascading over the barrels.
	“It is a bit much,” Eun Alba said.  “Those pilots must be damned bored.”
	“Bloody ridiculous,” Oliphant said.  He tossed his brandy down with a gulp and called a servant over to refresh their drinks.  Once they both held full glasses again, he took Eun Alba’s arm in his own and led the way into the jubilee crowd.
	“Is the Emperor here, do you think?”  Oliphant asked.
	Eun Alba shrugged.  “Probably.  It’s the one seventy-fifth jubilee.  When you celebrate being on the throne that long, I’d think you wouldn’t miss your own party.”  Oliphant guffawed and clinked his glass to Eun Alba’s in agreement.
	A woman in a dress of liquid silver laughed gaily and leaned toward them as they passed her group, a flock of courtiers sharing a horseshoe-shaped couch..  Eun Alba smiled and nodded, but didn’t stop.  Normally, flirting with the court offered a pleasant distraction, but tonight — tonight he didn’t have the time.  He breathed more easily as he left her perfume behind him and took a moment to pause and sip from his glass.  The brandy burned his tongue pleasantly.  The air smelled faintly of cedar, reminding him of the family estate back in Italy.  In happier times, of course.  He pushed down the surge of rage and grief.  Best not to think on family for awhile.
	Eun Alba looked around.  Knights were easily visible in the crowd, though the one he wanted wasn’t in sight.  The dress uniform of the Imperial Knights consisted of a platinum jacket, sable trousers trimmed with a green stripe, and knee-high boots.  An emerald sash stretched from shoulder to waist across the chest.  A sword in a lacquered scabbard and tight-fitting black gloves of Ankara leather completed the ensemble.  Unit badges were pinned on the sash over the heart, and the cuffs displayed rank.  Finally, each knight had his or her family sign on a rectangular patch running from the right shoulder nearly to the elbow.  These last varied dramatically, with heraldric traditions drawn from all over Earth.  Eun Alba’s consisted of a white ship under stars on a blue field.  Other variations to the uniform were occasionally permitted, such as Oliphant’s turban, depending on the Knight’s cultural heritage.
	Eun Alba slopped champagne as Oliphant nudged his arm sharply.  “Oliphant, for God’s sake would you —!“
	A finger pressed his lips.  “Hsst, the Emperor,” Oliphant whispered.
	Eun Alba forgot the champagne, put away for the moment his rage at the Hangman.  Composing himself, he straightened to face his sovereign.  As the Emperor looked over from his conversation with a SpaceFleet Admiral, the Knights clicked their heels and bowed stiffly, their right hands clenched over their hearts.
	The Emperor acknowledged them with a smile and a nod, then returned to his discussion with the Admiral, who seemed to Eun Alba deeply concerned about his subject.  Tonight His Imperial Majesty appeared as a hologram, a being of light wearing the golden robes of a Chinese Mandarin, the garb shimmering with the motion of coiling dragons.  He seemed singularly unattended, but the famous Imperial Escort must be somewhere nearby, Eun Alba knew.  Even His Imperial Majesty’s hologram would not be left unguarded.  It was a matter of face.
	Eun Alba wondered how much of the Emperor’s effort was required to inhabit the hologram.  When he saw the Emperor in person a few months ago, His Imperial Majesty had been confined to a wombcouch with an array of tubes and medical devices clustered about his decrepit body.  The Emperor was ancient, as everyone knew, and his body wasn’t immune to the terrible weight of age.  No one knew how long he could last, even with the finest medical technology available to keep his frail form alive.
	At least he’s human, for all that he’s sacrificed his soul for us.  Eun Alba shivered and looked up, his imagination flashing for a moment into the deep void of space.  Where the Monster waited.
	Prometheus.
	The name held a death-taint for Eun Alba, a darkness worse than Hitler, Zenchenko, or even the alien Masters.  Prometheus, slayer of billions.  The Great Murderer.  The Eternal Enemy.  Only Petresun, the Emperor, had possessed the foresight to realize mankind needed its own immortal light to combat the machine tyranny of the Cybrids.  Eun Alba felt dwarfed by the thought of the alien evil that would strike at humanity again with all the mercy of a plague of scorpions.
	“Jaguar?  Are you all right?”  Oliphant shook him gently.  Eun Alba was back in the Grand Ballroom in Nova Alexandria once again, surrounded by music and the elegant nobility of Earth.
	“Yeah.  Sorry.  I was thinking about something else.”
	“About the Monster?  I recognized the look.  It’s like a shadow passing, isn’t it?  Don’t be sorry.  I’ve had those waking nightmares myself.”
	“Thanks.”  The Empire devoted all its effort toward preparing for total war.  For the next Earthsiege.  Eun Alba repressed another shiver.  We’ll be ready, he promised.  For the Emperor and Terra Mater.
	“Here’s Razorfire at last!  O’ jewel of the Knights!”  Oliphant had evidently already finished his drinks and replaced them with one smelling strongly of peaches.
	“For Hunter’s sake, slow down.”  Eun Alba said quietly.  “You’re my second, remember?  Get drunk later.”
	“Jaguar, you worry too much!  I shall be moderate and dependable.  But it’d be wrong to let all this brandy go to waste!  Ah, Ruby, you are as beautiful as ever.”
	“Thank you, Oliphant.  Jaguar!  We’d wondered what kept you!”  Ruby Hokanson-Li was one of the few female Knights, and one of the most talented of either sex.  Her nom de guerre was “Razorfire” for her deadly accuracy with Herc weaponry.  She was also, Eun Alba admitted, a strikingly beautiful woman.  Razorfire wore the same uniform as he and Oliphant.  Where he carried the ship and stars of his family crest, however, Razorfire’s right shoulder bore three golden cranes on a scarlet field.
	Eun Alba clasped her arm in greeting and forced a smile.  “Couldn’t avoid it.  A matter of honor.”
	Razorfire raised an eyebrow.  Eun Alba continued.  “I’m looking for the Hangman.  Is he here?”
	“Of course,” she said, surprised at his tone.  “Shall I take you to him, Jag?”
	“No need,” Oliphant said.  He set his glass on a nearby fountain’s edge before moving to Eun Alba’s side.
	“Jaguar, what in Hunter’s name kept you?”   Titus Thau-Yuros, dubbed “Hangman” for his ruthless precision, strolled up to the group.  “You must’ve found a rebel nest  or something, to be so untidily late.”  He yawned.
	Eun Alba finished his drink, handed his glass to Oliphant.  “I had to kill someone.”  He wiped his mouth with his glove.  “You know how it is.”
	“Well, now that you’re here, I suppose the Emperor can say he’s got a full complement of Knights.”
	“At least the Emperor recognizes the importance of honor.”  The Hangman stiffened, and Razorfire blinked.
	“This other killing, Jaguar, was it according to the Code Duello?”  Razorfire asked after an awkward moment.
	“Sure.  Oliphant here was my second.  The Skeleton had a relative stand up for him.  We did everything by the book.”  Eun Alba turned to the Hangman, struggled for composure.  Elena’s murderer.  His voice was surprisingly steady.  “You’re a damned liar, Hangman.”
	Razorfire whistled softly.  Oliphant swore and laughed, filled his hand with a fresh glass of something from a passing servant.  Part of Eun Alba wondered how long his friend would stay standing at this rate.  The other part of him didn’t care so long as the Hangman’s blood flowed soon.
	“By the Hunter’s Sword.”  The Hangman’s face was deadly pale.  “I accept your challenge, by God!  I’ll —”
	Razorfire cut off the Hangman with a curt wave of her hand.  “Let’s hear your grounds first, Jaguar.”
	Eun Alba gaze lingered on the golden Hercs.  “Zuo-Zhong repeated a slander against my sister Elena that came out of Hangman’s polluted —”
	“The story about her affair with a rebel spy?”  Razorfire asked.  “I heard that one myself.  It has to be a lie.  Elena was involved with one of us.”
	“And not just any knight!  Harabec Weathers, the younger brother of the Grand Master himself.”  Eun Alba froze.  “What’s wrong, Ruby?”
	Razorfire had gone white with shock.  “Harabec?  She was seeing the Phoenix?”
	Eun Alba nodded impatiently and continued, ignoring Razorfire’s surprise.  “Elena threw herself out a window this morning, after she heard it.  We confirmed Zuo-Zhong was the source.  Before he died, the Skeleton told me about hearing it from the Hangman.”
	“Did you discuss any of the details?” Razorfire asked quietly.
	“What was there to discuss?  He said he believed the whole thing, and I challenged him.  We didn’t talk much after that.  According to tradition, he picked the weapons.”
	“Herculans,” Oliphant added solemnly.
	“Oh, Hunter,” Razorfire mumbled, eyes downcast.  “Colossa ...”
	“Yeah.  He probably thought I’d change my mind.”
	“Was he still astride that fifty-tonner with the Arbalest kinetic kill system?” Razorfire asked.
	“Yeah.  A Bog Wraith.”
	“Christ and Hunter.”  she murmured.  “He had fifteen tons on you.”
	“Well, the War-Raven has a few surprises, as the Skeleton discovered.”
	Pity flickered in Razorfire’s black eyes.  “So you killed him.  Are you so sure you know the truth, Colossa?” she asked softly.
	Eun Alba looked at the floor between his feet, saw his blurred reflection in the blackness.  He remembered his sister’s broken body, his mother’s tears.  “Yes.  These bastards lied like snakes.  And they killed my sister.”  He directed his gaze at the Hangman, felt the anger lick his voice.  “Come on, Hangman, get a second so I can finish this.”
	The Hangman looked at Razorfire, who sighed and stepped to his side.  She flashed a strange, apologetic look at Eun Alba.
	Oliphant bowed to her.  “According to the Code, Knight-Captain Thau-Yuros selects the time, place, and weapon.  Within reason.”
	Before Razorfire could reply, the Hangman interrupted with an icy drawl.  “Here.  Now.  Swords.  I shan’t wait a moment longer, Jaguar.  Your sister whored for the rebellion.  I told the truth, and so did the Skeleton.”
	“You were jealous because she rejected you!”  Eun Alba lunged for him right there, but Oliphant and Razorfire both grabbed him and held him until he regained his composure.  “Yeah, okay.  Here.  Now,” he managed at last, cutting off Oliphant’s protest.  He headed for a clear space at the periphery of the crowd, beneath one of the marble ribs.  As the Knights made their way over, Oliphant caught up to Eun Alba and gripped his shoulder.
	“Listen, Jaguar,” he said in an urgent whisper.  “I just had a word with Razorfire.  Maybe we should reconsider this, wait a few days —”
	“His lies killed my sister.”  Eun Alba shook off his friend’s hand.  His passion nearly choked him.  No delays.  None.  The moment had come.  His pulse thundered in anticipation.  He’d earned the name “Jaguar” for a reason, and the Hangman would learn it now.  Elena, this is for you.  His blade whispered as he drew it.  Though ceremonial, the Knights’ swords were fully functional, short stabbing weapons modelled on the ancient gladius of the Roman Empire.  It felt good in his hand, familiar.
	Eun Alba was only dimly aware of his friends or the crowd.  Everything narrowed to himself, the Hangman, and his own overpowering fury.  Oliphant was trying to say something to him, as he and the Hangman saluted each other.  Then Eun Alba let his control slip and their blades met in a flurry of steel.  The Hangman moved with his customary precision and economy, but Eun Alba attacked with a reckless savagery, hearing his dead sister’s name in every stroke.  Elena!  Elena!
	He slashed at the Hangman’s wrist in quarte.  Elena!  The Hangman parried and counterattacked.  Eun Alba twisted away and feinted a high cut before stabbing low.  Elena!  The Hangman’s blade blocked the stab and flicked out to nick Eun Alba’s shoulder deeply.
	Ordinarily, the injury would have forced Eun Alba back to a more defensive strategy, but the fury ran ragged in him, overwhelming the strategist with the beast.  Jaguar snarled and caught the Hangman’s weapon in a bind with his own, then grabbed his enemy’s arm and slammed his body into the other.  The gutter tactics surprised the Hangman, who reacted too slowly.  Jaguar snarled again and smashed his head into the Hangman’s face.  Stunned, the Hangman stumbled back into a nearby pillar, blood streaming from a broken nose.  Jaguar drew his sword back for the kill.
	“HOLD!”  The voice crashed like an explosion around them.  Eun Alba froze, the fury’s momentum broken.
	The Emperor’s image stood shining before them, attended by a group of Knights and Terran Defense Force officers.  The familiar face of the Grand Master of the Imperial Knights, the famed Caanon Weathers, stood among them.  Razorfire and Oliphant knelt nearby.
	“Your Majesty.”  Eun Alba released the Hangman and knelt.  He heard the Hangman kneeling beside him, snuffling blood.  “Forgive us.  It’s a matter of honor —”
	The Emperor’s face was stern.  “I’ll not have my Knights killing each other.  Not even for honor.  Especially not now, on the eve of war.”
	“War, Your Majesty?”  Eun Alba and the Hangman exchanged glances.  Had the Cybrids returned at last?
	“Yes.  The colonies are in rebellion, and Grand Master Weathers has asked to go hunt down his brother Harabec, who we have learned is one of the rebel leaders.  It is time to end this traitor and bring the colonies to heel.”  The Emperor turned to Weathers.  “Your request is granted, Grand Master.  See to it.  And take these firebrands with you!”  Weathers bowed and slid a cold look over the two Knights.
	After the Emperor and his retinue departed, Eun Alba got to his feet slowly, his face burning.  He locked eyes with the Hangman.
	“I ... apologize,” he said.  “I ... was wrong.”
	The Hangman inclined his head in acceptance but said nothing.  He wiped at the blood on his face with a piece of silk.
	Razorfire and Oliphant approached.  “I’m so sorry, Colossa,” Razorfire said.  “It’s all true.”
	“I have wronged the Skeleton.”  Eun Alba’s tongue felt thick.  “And you, Hangman.”
	“Avenge him, then.  Kill the traitor,” the Hangman replied.
	Oliphant roared and clapped Eun Alba on the back.  “Yes, by God and Gaea!  Kill the traitor!  That’ll make it right!”
	Eun Alba looked up to where he imagined Mars to be.  Oh, Elena, why?  Inside, the rage concentrated in his heart like a burning coal.  Smouldering.  Until the time came to ignite it again.  On Mars, where the traitor Harabec waited.