IMPERIUM

Chapter One

"Commander Wolf. Sir. You have been requested onboard the Sea Lion by Fleet Admiral Saig. He has requested that you are to meet him on the Bridge," Commander Boar addressed me as he climbed the hill side. "I will gladly escort you to her myself, Wolf. It has been a long time since we have spoken to one another."
I turned to watch his slow, silent, ascent of the trail that lead up the hill to where I stood in wait.
"Yes, Commander, indeed it has."
Then as we turned and walked down the length of the beach, "So, you have joined with Admiral Saig's convoy now?" I removed my Commander's hat and held it in my palm, studying every detail.
"Yes, I was reassigned three weeks ago to Commodore Drake. It has been very interesting learning how the new sub-surface ships progress and function in the battlefield," Boar replied steadily, not even glancing away from his onward descent.
We continued the rest of the journey down to the beach in silence, nothing much was left to say. That was what we had left of our old lives, before the war.
Our Commanders clothing was of the standard white Centurion body armour, each customised to our specification, with a shiny black over coat that barely reached our knees, and a black cap. Each coat decorated with golden shoulders to show our status.
Boar was classed as a Centurion Vanguardian, normally given the roles of leading the vanguard, or what we call the 'Wedge of Battle', but onboard ships he was given a range of duties from commanding landing forces to working in the engine rooms. His Centurion armour's thicker build and reinforced forearms provide a stronger and heavier lifting ability.
"So, I see the landing convoy and the escort, but where is the Banner ship and the Sea Lion?" I asked glancing across the blue crystal horizon.
My own specification is that of a Recon class Centurion. The slicker build of the armour and darker shade compared to the bright white of the normal Centurion soldier to provide a much sleeker, more stealthy, appearance.
"Ah," He laughed. "The Dantalion is known as Admiral Saig's Banner ship. And they're around those rocks of the peninsula to the west. Where have you been for the last few months my friend?"
In previous fleets, before Admiral Saig, a large battle cruiser was used as a Banner Ship and while the Dantalion is a worthy ship, it does not have the armour capability that of a destroyer. Banner ships had been used to forward naval attacks. They would come into the fight, either facing the opposing Banner ship or facing the opposing fleet, and do as much damage as they can while the rest of the fleet arrives. This was often referred to as 'planting the banner,' the origins of the banner class ships.
"I've been doing some work with Colonel Grug, training in landing drops from Orbiter One."
He stopped and looked at me, I could not tell what facial expression was hidden from me under the metallic features of his helmet, but the small act in which he done this told me all I needed to know.
Boar believed that the Orbiter One program was unnecessary and gave the defending NAUF little warning or time to defend against our Imperial forces.
We reached the landing convoy shortly after and we were greeted by a band of six Centurions. Each held their helmet in their hands rather than on their heads, and yet I saw no familiar faces.
"Commander. Good to finally meet you. We have heard of your excellence in great detail from Commander Boar, a true veteran." He grinned and extended a hand in greeting, "I am Officer Max, although the mates call me Axe."
Axe was dressed in standard armour for a Centurion, although unlike many Officers I have encountered, he appeared much less in order. His overcoat, much unlike the standard shiny black leather that of a normal Imperialist, was a dusty brown. It was undone, not unlike my own, and came to around his waist. Hung undone around his back followed a flayed brown belt, equipped with a monstrous knife.
"Axe," I tried the word and found it fitted his appearance. I glanced about the other men, four of which where evidently newly recruited and had no such coats and showed easily the heat radiating from the inbuilt Nuclear power system. They carried the standard Centurion 50 calibre semi-automatic at their waist, while the last, a more lonesome figure, held a less common weapon. He appeared to be a sniper or surveillance classed Centurion, with a hood pulled over his helmet, the little lighting flowing from his helmet gave little away to his appearance beneath the hood. He didn't speak nor introduce himself as the others did, he simply watched and patrolled the short of beach where we were stationed for the time being.
After little talk we were ready to head off to the Sea Lion and her convoy. We moved swiftly, very little needed to be moved back onto the small landing craft that brought the team here. And minutes later we were away from shore, and moving to stay off the rocks of the small peninsula parallel to us. The small craft moved at an incredible speed and created such little sound.
"Bad news Commander," Axe called from the rear of the long boat.
"A NAUF fleet has been spotted not six kilometres off the coast. The Dantalion has been sent to intercept the fleet and your presence onboard has been requested," Axe grinned as he rounded the peninsula to where a vast fleet of Cruisers, Destroyers and Corvettes lay in wait.
As I looked I saw no sign of a ship titled Dantalion or Sea Lion, and yet I knew they were here, amongst the Imperialist Fleet. Axe stopped the boat and turned to face me, weapon in hand he placed a hand on the railing of the boat and jumped over the side. The clang of metal-on-metal rang out and the rest of the crew followed him over.
Commander Boar walked up from the rear of the boat and stood beside me. "Bunch of show offs, this lot, if you ask me," he joked at last, not sparing a glance from the bow of the ship that was now visible through the clear waves beneath our small boat.
A man appeared from the command centre of the monstrous ship and approached us as we jumped from the small boat onto the now surfaced deck.
"Welcome on board the Dantalion. Commander." He said as he stood there studying my appearance. He was not wearing the usual Centurion armour, instead he wore the black overcoat of a Captain with the stripes of a Commodore. His face was plain that he was young, possibly thirty. Centurions, usually placed into service at the age of twenty, are provided with a prolonged lives, the highest age recorded was heard to be two hundred and five.
"Nice to meet you Captain," I replied, studying the sleek build of the Command centre behind him. The ship, although it only raised a couple feet from sea level, held twelve twin turrets. I noticed, as I studied the base of the guns, that when the ship submerged beneath the waves the guns would fold in under bunker like housing.
The ship itself was lengthy, I estimated two hundred and sixty meters. The front of the ship, from the hull to the bridge, used much of this length and was filled with two columns of turrets. The rear end of the ships deck contained one larger, triple gun turret.
Axe and his company had moved around to a hanger to fit the long boat under the deck of the Dantalion.
"Come, Wolf," Boar beckoned from where he and the Captain were entering the bridge. I followed the captain around a series of hallways and stairs until we came to an empty cabin.
"This will be your room, pick a bunk and stick to it." The Captain said gesturing to enter, "I am Captain Sarl. You are permitted, by order of Admiral Saig, to remain in your cabin unless requested else where." Sarl paused, and as he turned to leave, "We will be dining in the Captains quarters tonight. Just a few Commanders and myself, although it is against the Admirals orders I would request that you join us."
I looked around the cabin, it was bare bar the two bunks, a block of steel and soft thin mattress.
"I will join you Captain, but I would like to know, what is the purpose of me attending? If it is so against the orders of Admiral Saig."
He did not answer, instead he looked Boar up and down and walked off, plainly telling us that he was not to attend.