Cydonia Rising

by Dave Walsh

  “What do you mean?” O’Neil leaned back in his chair, feeling his stomach turning in knots. It was good to know she was alive, but they needed her back on Andlios sooner rather than later.

  “Her and her new boyfriend shot up some of the local guards. Well, I say shot up, but really,” O’Neil saw him cringe. “I could almost say carved up—two of them had some pretty gnarly gash wounds and had bled out. That guy she is mixed up with is a real butcher, you know…”

  “No,” he said. “That was Katrijn.”

  “Wow,” he let out a whistle. “This girl is something else then, let me tell you. Precise, major arteries, pretty brutal stuff. This is why I never let my girls near any damned blades, they’d probably cut me up at their mother’s request.”

  “Well, she was trained by the best around.” He remembered back to her choosing to train in knife fighting over training with the pulseaxe, which her father had insisted upon. He let her play with knives, but no one ever thought it would be useful in a world of heavy axes and energy guns. They were all wrong, it seemed. “Where is she now?”

  “They escaped on his ship and were able to avoid the automated defense cannons, which is really quite impressive.” Loren fiddled with the controls before looking back up toward O’Neil. “They jettisoned her life pod and killed their own engines to distract the ADCs, then while the cannons were cooling down they kicked the engines back on and broke into orbit. Really risky move—they almost smashed into the planet—but I gotta say, it worked.”

  “Jesus.” O’Neil lifted up his glasses with his fingers and rubbed his temples before letting them slide back down onto his nose. “Do you have any idea where they are headed?”

  “Looks like the nearest rock, Helgun.”

  “Helgun?” Frustration washed over him. “Why Helgun?”

  “My guess is because it’s close. It also has a pretty low population of Cydonians and is relatively out of our reach.”

  “But not entirely out of our reach, correct?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m looking at the report now and we’ve got a few operatives on the planet. If you want I can call ahead and…”

  “No. Loren, this is all on you right now. I don’t want to bring anyone else into this unless we really have to.”

  “Alright, so what do I do when I find them, Old Man?”

  “I guess that’s up to you, but tell Katrijn that we need her back home, that things have gotten out of hand.”

  “I get that,” he said, shaking his head. “But I mean, why should they trust me?”

  “Well, you have a direct line to me, which is something most don’t. When you find her just call me and we’ll sort it out, alright?”

  “Roger that.” Loren’s image faded from view, and O’Neil took a deep breath. Things could never be easy, but they had to just be a little bit more patient. Having Katrijn back would cause some real problems, but it would be the quickest and easiest way to deal with Cronus.

  He picked himself up out of the chair and straightened out his shirt, tugging on it and dusting it off, even if it wasn’t dirty. His old habits died hard, but he clung to them for dear life while a good portion of his body felt so cold and foreign to him. He knew they would be expecting him in the Great Hall for the meeting Cronus had called. This would be the first meeting since Cronus’s brutal dissolution of the Senate, which meant that it could get ugly in a hurry.

  His walk through the halls were quiet and eerie, with the guards standing still and silent, a departure from their usual chatter. If the palace had a mood associated with it the only word that came to mind was “somber.” The feeling in the air was like an empire on the brink of crumbling to pieces, giving way to chaos and disorder. O’Neil’s job was ensuring that didn’t happen, but it became more and more difficult with every move Cronus made on his own. Without a doubt, there were forces pulling him in different directions, certain people of influence in his ear, but so many treated Cronus like a god that it was difficult to discern who had what kind of power over him. Hopefully that would be sorted out at this meeting.

  The guards stood at attention in front of the Great Hall, unflinching when he approached, grabbing the handles to the towering doors and opening them with a creak. The mood was tense inside, Cronus sitting at the head of the table with a plate for fruit laid out in front him, tossing a grape from palm to palm while everyone at the table sat quiet, waiting for him to break the silence.

  “Nice of you to finally join us, Old Man.” The words cut right through him, but he simply nodded and walked to his seat next to Cronus, across the table from Kara, who sat silently. “Oh, no,” Cronus said. “That seat isn’t for you, Old Man, you’ll have to find somewhere else to sit.”

  “That’s no problem.” O’Neil bit his tongue, understanding the tightrope he was walking on. He walked over to the wall with his head high and sat down on one of the chairs that were lining the wall. Placing O’Neil outside of his inner circle was a symbolic gesture, intended to either humble or humiliate him. Which one wasn’t clear yet, but O’Neil had no problem with his seat moving in light of what he had done to Senator Pelan. He was losing his grasp, which he had to ensure didn’t happen, at least until he could sneak Katrijn back onto the planet and come up with a plan.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” a voice boomed from the doorway, and O’Neil turned to see Alistair Giger enter the hall. He wore clothes spun of silk and lined with gold and gems, his dark hair neatly pulled back into a small braid. Giger was the son of one of the elite from the Omega Destiny, who had even more power on Andlios than aboard the ship.

  “Alistair.” A smile crossed Cronus’s face. “Please come, sit,” he motioned for the chair that was previously O’Neil’s. The statement was made, loud and clear. Giger took his place next to the emperor and looked pleased with himself. O’Neil knew it was just a parade of fools making promises to Cronus that they could never keep. They were the parasites that made up what was left of the Andlios Republic and it made O’Neil sick to see what it had become.

  “Your Majesty,” O’Neil’s voice broke through the smug silence like a knife. “I’d like to know what you plan to do now that—”

  “Did I tell you to speak?” Cronus snarled, slamming his fist onto the table, the fruit dancing in the tray before him. “No, I did not. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, can you?” He turned to the table, where there were a few uneasy laughs. “Anyway, as you all may have heard, late last night the decision was made to dissolve the Senate. I’ve found that their guidance may have been useful to my father,” the disdain for the word stung, “but I am not my father.

  “That was the old Andlios Republic, it was the weak Andlios Republic. We all know that my father was a man of ideals and beliefs, but many—in private—considered him to be a fool. The Republic is vast now, no longer just a planet or two, but a collection of planets that stretches out deep into our galaxy. The Republic governs a collection of twenty-one inhabited planets and moons, including Andlios. Each planet having a seat in the Senate and bickering for their own personal gains led to many wastes of all our time.

  “My plan,” he continued, growing more and more excited. “Is instead to assign my personal stewards to each inhabited land. I will be hand-picking these representatives, who will have absolute power over their domain, only answering to myself, the emperor of Andlios.”

  A round of applause washed through the room, as O’Neil felt the color escaping his face but did his best to clap along from his chair at the side of the room. This was a lot worse than he had ever imagined it could be. He scanned the table to look at the reactions, most looking genuine, as most would be angling for positions of power and a stewardship. Kara’s face wore the same expression that his did at that moment: scared, but trying to pretend. She was failing and he suspected that he was as well.

  Kara

  “What do we do?” Kara stood in her quarters with a link to O’Neil up. He sat in his office looking haggard. She understood how
he must feel after all they’d been through. They were finally on the same side and the feeling hanging in the air was that Cronus was going to send one—or both—of them away to steward some far off fringe planet.

  “I’m not really sure,” he said.

  “I knew Giger had influence over him, but not this kind of influence.” She found herself pacing back and forth, her dark red dress ebbing and flowing with her movements, dancing on its own while she felt her chest tighten with anxiety. “You know Jonah suffered from anxiety, right?”

  “He made some vague mentions of it, yeah.”

  “Well, he did, although he never liked to admit to it,” she stopped, taking a deep breath, feeling her pulse quickening. She remembered what he had told her, how he had to slow himself down, clear his mind and take deep, measured breaths. “But I’m starting to understand what it felt like. I never understood it when he’d have one of his attacks. It always struck me as odd that the emperor of a Republic like this could still suffer from something so mundane. You know that I used to really get on him about it back on the Omega Destiny?” she asked, not looking for a response. “I used to tell him I should be good enough for him, because I thought there was a solution to everything. I’m quickly learning that there isn’t, though, and it only took me how many years?”

  “He hasn’t handed down the assignments yet, Kara.” He was trying to sound reassuring—actually, maybe he was right—she needed to calm down.

  “I guess you are right. I wish there was some good news, though.”

  “I might have some,” he paused. “But I’m not sure if I should say anything just yet, things aren’t really 100% yet or…”

  “Oh for Freyja’s sake, Peter!”

  “There are extenuating circumstances,” he sounded tired. “So it’s about Katrijn.”

  She felt her heart stop for a beat, and she reached behind her and felt around for the chair she knew was there but it felt like it was across the room. She fumbled around with it before she was able to pull it forward and sit down, the projection still in view. “What about her?”

  “She was on Cyngen.” She let her breath out. That meant that she was alive. “A local smuggler found her lifepod and rescued her, apparently some things went south on the planet and they both escaped.”

  “She was kidnapped?”

  “Not exactly, no, you see,” he paused and ran his fingers over his eyes underneath his glasses. “My operative believes that she is working with him right now. She’s a smart girl, I’m sure she’s using the resources that are available to her. She missed her rendezvous so she knew better than to try to make it late.”

  “So where is she headed now? Is she alright?”

  “We believe that she’s alright and that she’s headed to Helgun.”

  “Oh gods.” She felt a migraine coming on. “Not the Helgean fringe planet?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “She hopped from the Cydonian underground bunker of a planet to a planet of monks.”

  “Not entirely, no.” He shook his head. “Most of the local government is Helgean but there is a good mix out there, it’s a planet with some good resources, but still a bit far off for Cronus to really care much about it.”

  “How do we contact her then? Peter, we need to get her back before things get worse here.”

  “I agree. I have my operative following them right now and he should be making contact with them by the time they land.”

  “Which is?”

  “I’d say within three to four days, but really, it depends on if they took the direct route or not.”

  “It’s space, Peter.”

  “Of course it is,” he laughed. “But there are shipping lanes that we have probes lining to assist travelers. They just escaped from the grips of a few Cydonians, I’m sure they’ll want to keep a low profile. But, for now things are…Shit!” he swore, something that was out of character for him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Giger is calling me.”

  “Giger? What does that snake want?”

  “I’m not sure, let me take it and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Okay, just be careful.”

  “Of course,” he nodded, about to switch off, but paused. “Kara, look out for yourself, okay?”

  “I will, you as well, Peter.” His image disappeared and she found herself sitting in silence. The murder of a senator, dissolution of the Senate and now appointing stewards. Things were spiraling out of control at a breakneck pace and Kara found herself wishing that Jonah were there. He would know what do or try to find a way to talk to Cronus. It was the one weakness Cronus had: he wanted to impress his father, even if he resented him and did murder him. His father’s approval was the one thing he was missing.

  The chirping of her holoscanner caught her off guard, and she looked down and saw that it was Giger. “Oh no,” she muttered, collecting herself before accepting the call. “Mr. Giger,” she smiled warmly at him.

  “That’s Prime Minister Giger now.” He smiled like she imagined a serpent from old Earth stories would.

  “Well congratulations, Prime Minister Giger, what can I do for you?” That was a terrible sign; Cronus had already given him a title—the title that Peter had held.

  “Emperor Cronus has requested your presence in the audience chamber immediately.”

  “Alright, just give me a few moments…”

  “I have a guard detail outside your door right now, Your Majesty.” His grin was nothing short of sinister. “There’s no need for delay.”

  “Oh, of course,” she said. Kara gathered herself up, took a deep breath and opened up the door to see the guard detail standing silently.

  They walked through the palace without a word. She wasn’t under the impression that she was being detained, but these were also Cronus’s personal guards. There was no doubt that Cronus knew that he was making some big waves on this day and that he needed to protect himself, but to send his own guard detail for his mother seemed excessive.

  The great doors to Cronus’s audience chamber creaked open to see Cronus on his throne, Giger standing next to him wearing a huge grin and O’Neil standing solemnly in front of them, his hands crossed behind his back. He turned to Kara while she entered and gave her a brief bow, and she returned it before bowing deeply to her son.

  “It took you long enough,” Cronus sneered.

  “I’m sorry, my son,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d need me for the rest of the day after your announcement earlier.”

  “Minister Giger and myself have been moving swiftly,” he said. “We want to avoid any undue resistance to my decree. I understand that change is difficult.”

  “It is very wise of you to do so. There will undoubtedly be resistance to this, but I’m sure that you have the full support of both myself and Prime Minister O’Neil.”

  “That’s why you are both here,” Giger said. “You were both instrumental in the formation of the Andlios Republic. Without both of you who knows how things would have turned out. We’ve already discussed matters with Steward O’Neil before you arrived,” he motioned a hand toward O’Neil. “But much like the Senate, we fear that your time as key decision-makers has come to an end.”

  “I understand,” she said, not shocked, but more afraid of what would become of both of them now that they were being removed from any real power. “If I might ask, what exactly will our roles be?”

  “You are both very valuable symbols of hope to many,” Giger said, still wearing his insincere grin. “Emperor Cronus has decided to bestow stewardships on both of you. They are most generous appointments and will be beneficial to the entire Republic.”

  “Where will we be going?” she asked, not wanting to know the answer.

  “I’m glad you asked,” he said. “We’ve been thinking long and hard about this and we believe that such strong, important figures in the Andlios Republic belong somewhere that feels marginalized, somewhere that felt that it wasn’t getting the
respect it deserved from us. So we’ve decided that—”

  “They’re shipping us out to the fringes,” O’Neil interrupted.

  “Well, yes,” Giger said, keeping his composure. “We are assigning Prime Minister O’Neil to Helgun and for our empress, we’ve decided to keep her closer to home a bit, not quite the fringes like our dear prime minister here. The empress will be heading to Andal-3.”

  “When will these assignments begin?” she asked, less upset about her having to travel to Andal-3 than the idea of O’Neil at Helgun, although he did mention that Katrijn was possibly headed in that direction.

  “Immediately.”

  012. The Long Journey

  Alva

  Alva found herself sulking around more often after the whole plan was described to her. Returning home to Andlios was always a dream of hers, but she was always told that she wasn’t ready yet, not in good enough condition both mentally and physically. Then later when she was healthy, they told her there were people who would see her as a threat and try to kill her, to erase her from existence. She had always believed Trallex and Trella, but things felt clouded now as she trained for her return home.

  She wondered who was left that she’d remember—or that would even remember her. Trallex had shown her a vid of her own funeral, which was a surreal experience. She kept the file handy just in case but could never bring herself to watch it again. The video simply served as a reminder of what had happened and helped push her to work harder. The visual of her always-strong father in tears, while her empty casket floated down the river on fire, would never leave her. The whole scene felt so distant to her, but now she would be heading back there, might even stand at the shores of that river again—alive, changed, but still the same girl.

  Alva had fallen into a focused repetition over the past few days. She was aware of what would be expected of her and why all of her training and augmentations mattered. Trallex had shown her what she was capable of when she was jacked in, almost a part of what she could only describe as a collective consciousness. There were still individuals, but information was readily shared without many boundaries. She was very careful about it, but Trallex told her that with time it would pass.