by Dave Walsh
Katrijn suppressed her instincts while running through what was left of the dazed, confused and injured crowd of guards. None of them were paying her much mind while she ran through along the sides, by the row of hedges that lined the grand entryway to the palace. The stairs were where most of the fighting was happening now and she was headed to the left, where she saw Jace and Loren standing by a door. She vaulted over a fallen guard who was grasping up at her and moved around the stairs to rejoin the both of them.
“Took you long enough,” Jace said.
“I just met Alva, I think.”
“Oh?” Loren’s eyes widened.
“I gotta hear about this.” Jace leaned against the wall, almost oblivious to the chaos around them.
“It can wait,” Loren lashed out, a rare crack in his calm visage.
Both of them quickly quieted down, Katrijn nodding to Loren, whose smile returned shortly after. He was a bit of a mystery to her, but it was interesting to see him looking concerned. She knew this mission was crazy; in fact, she was against it, but the gravity on Loren’s face told her that as soon as they went through that door there was no going back. Her uncle was in there and if nothing else, she needed to free him, but it loomed heavy on her that her brother was in there also and that talking sense into him was most likely beyond the grasp of anyone.
One of them would be walking out of the palace that day and it made her sad knowing that she was going to have to be the one that ended his reign. He had done a lot of truly terrible things, including killing their father, but he was still her brother. A part of her had envisioned their meeting many times; a few times she was able to talk sense into him, able to find the good in him, but more often than not, it ended with her blades carving him up. She wondered if it would make her like him to end his life with glee, or if she’d feel regret at doing it.
“Earth to Kat,” she felt Jace’s hand on her shoulder, shaking her. “C’mon, Kat, we gotta go.”
“I’m here,” she said, almost wondering if she was truly there. It felt surreal being back at the palace again, like a fever dream of her childhood, more like a nightmare thanks to the blood and gore littering the limestone.
She took in a deep breath and walked into the door, stepping foot into the palace for the first time in many cycles—for the first time since she had seen her father dead in his bed. The guard room was empty save for a few guards in the corner who had been injured and came in to escape the fray, who were either dead or passed out, she couldn’t tell and wasn’t about to check.
“I’m home,” she whispered.
038. The Bait and the Prey
O’Neil
O’Neil wanted to muse on how strange it was to be back in the audience chamber inside the palace, but every breath he took felt more difficult than the last, the diagnostics telling him that his artificial lung was acting at 15% and his heart at 20%. At least he wasn’t restrained, although they knew he wouldn’t go anywhere with all the guards in place. No one but Giger knew about the knife that had been driven into his chest, though—at least no one had mentioned anything. He was doing his best to keep his composure, but he was still doubled over in pain, every breath difficult. Cronus sat on his throne looking haggard while Giger stood next to him, whispering into his ear. The side door squeaked open and a few guards appeared, leading in a figure, and O’Neil looked away then quickly back, recognizing the face.
“Kara?” he asked, unsure of himself.
“Oh, Peter.” She pushed through the guards and ran up to him, meeting him with a warm embrace that almost threw him to the ground, and he had to reach to the chair behind him to stabilize himself. He didn’t want anyone to know what happened or even that he had augmentations. They had finally called him to see Cronus and he knew that things were reaching a head in Krigar.
“My gods, Peter, what have they done to you?”
“What a touching reunion,” Cronus jested. “Krigar falls apart at this very moment while you two are just happy to see each other. Some advisors. One secretly turned himself into a Cymage, the other betrayed her own son.”
“You sent me away, Cronus,” O’Neil turned to the emperor, doing his best to ignore the Cymage comment. He was feeling weak and was leaning against Kara’s shoulder, her doing so without as much as a request or even a nod, just simply doing so in a way that let him keep his dignity. “You sent your mother away as well.”
“So I did,” he said.
“Cronus,” Kara said, motioning toward him, but still helping to hold O’Neil up. “We always did the best we could for you.”
“I’m sure none of this would have happened if I had kept you two here on Andlios with me, correct?”
“More or less,” O’Neil said.
“You see, my lord, this is the kind of deception I told you about,” Giger said loud and clear. “This was why I recommended you send these two far away.”
“Yes, well,” Cronus motioned with his hand for Giger to move back. “Perhaps I put a bit too much weight on your advice, Giger. The Senate was a bother, but it was a hassle I could control, but now this,” he threw his hands out toward the projections lining the room of the chaos just outside of the walls. “This is where we are now.”
“Cronus,” Kara’s voice was soothing and calm, and she approached the throne and sat in her old chair. “I know this is hard for you, but you know the right thing to do here, don’t you?”
“Sire, if I may—”
“Giger.” Cronus was seething. “Unless you have a solution to this undead bitch and her men slaughtering all my elite guards for the whole Republic to see right now, I don’t want to hear it. Gods, even those desert crawlers are there with her—how could this happen without me being alerted?”
O’Neil knew Cronus well enough to see that Giger had quickly fallen out of favor with the fickle emperor of the Andlios Republic. Things were falling apart and the architect was going to take the brunt of the blame—not that O’Neil felt bad for Giger. The failing vital signs that his diagnostic read to him earlier assured that. This was Giger’s gamble, his attempt to rise to prominence and find himself in power. He was just the kind of person who could convince Cronus to do something rash—and he did—but he wasn’t the kind of man who thought beyond his own machinations and studied the world.
It was the years of working with the Freemans that helped give him perspective on just how their decision-making process went. While Jonah was different than Cronus, there was only a thin line separating the two men. One was the idealist who wished for everyone to get what they wanted, but understood that there would be unfortunate costs along the way. The other was a fatalist, believing that humanity just needed to be controlled and told what to do, that they were simply pawns in his game but that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. As flawed as Cronus was, he still had a vision for the future that involved the people better off, it was just difficult to see through the mire that was his blind rage and greed.
“Bring her in,” the embarrassed Giger barked at the guards, the door flying open and another set of guards leading a figure into the room. For the second time that day O’Neil found himself taken aback at who walked through the door, this time bound at the hands and feet. “This,” Giger boasted. “Is a dear personal friend of Ms. Alva Hedlund.”
“It’s a Cymage,” Cronus chuckled. “What is your game, Giger?”
“What is she doing here?” Trallex, who had been quietly standing back along the wall with the guards, buzzed.
“She’s insurance against something like this,” Giger motioned toward the chaos unfolding on the feeds. “That’s what she is.”
“I’m not sure I follow.” Cronus folded his hands on his lap. “Is this another one of your ill-fated plans, Giger?”
“No, my lord.” Giger looked insulted, ready to break down. “I’ve always had your best interests at heart, my emperor. You see, there was something Trallex wasn’t telling you—”
“Tread lightly here,” Cro
nus said, Trallex perking up against the wall. “I won’t have you forget that blasted thing out in space that was brought to our attention? Trallex is working very hard to get to the bottom of that.”
“I’m sure he is,” Giger said. “But I have reason to believe that this one is valuable to our insurrectionist out there.”
“Go on.” Cronus perked up slightly.
“Our intel has shown that Alva Hedlund has mentioned the name Trella numerous times to her followers. Our men who we placed inside her organization have reported the name to us on multiple occasions. Then Trallex issues an order to have her picked up on sight and we pick her up trying to find Alva Hedlund?”
“I see,” Cronus said.
“Truly pathetic,” Trallex hissed, stepping forward with his hands clenched behind his back. “My lord Freeman, this is merely circumstantial evidence and hearsay from a man who has clearly fallen from favor and looks to get back into your good graces through any means possible. Trella 4967 is a fugitive from Cyngen, she was sent into isolation after she exhibited disturbing behavior—mostly for her own good—and escaped.”
“For all we know Alva Hedlund was on Cyngen, Cronus!” Giger was growing desperate.
“I’m in charge of governing Cyngen,” Trallex spun on his heel to face Giger. “Are you implying that I’ve somehow harbored a fugitive?”
“That isn’t—”
“Then what are you implying, Alistair?” Cronus sounded tired and like he was running out of patience.
“Sire, it’s that clearly Hedlund and Trella have some sort of relationship, that we could use her to stop—”
“I’ve heard enough,” Cronus interrupted him. “You’ve shown time and time again that you are rather rash with your decisions. For all we know, there is no connection and you are simply grasping at straws, Alistair. Guards, return her to her cell until Trallex is able to return her home.”
“But Cronus—”
“And Giger,” Cronus interrupted again. “Get out of my sight, I’ll have no more of you today. There is enough on my mind. Let the adults sort this out.”
“As you wish.” Giger turned red, but bowed deeply and stormed out of the room.
Not only was chaos on Cronus’s doorstep, but chaos was inside his court as well. O’Neil couldn’t help but notice that everything that could go wrong was going wrong. A part of him still wanted to help the boy, but it was beginning to feel like a futile endeavor to even bother, that he had so clearly lost his way and was in well over his head.
“Emperor,” O’Neil cleared his throat. “I’m curious as to this device you are talking about in deep space?”
“I’m not sure what there is to say, Uncle,” Cronus’s tone toward O’Neil was oddly softened considering that just a few months prior O’Neil was exiled to Helgun. “It’s out by Gimle and Trallex has sent out a few ships to survey it.”
“Reports have been inconclusive, to say the least.” Trallex was standing in the center of the room, and it became abundantly clear to O’Neil who was in charge of the room at that moment. “We are still running scans on it. It is definitely man-made, we know that much, and Cydonian technology is an integral part of it.”
“But this isn’t yours?” O’Neil asked, trying to stay calm and control his breathing.
“No, Mr. O’Neil.” Trallex remained still, ominous. “It is most definitely not ours. There is proof of activity out there, though.”
“By Gimle?” O’Neil asked, taken aback. That didn’t make sense—while Gimle was a resource-rich part of the Republic, they had yet to really reach that far out and colonize the area. There had been talks of maybe converting one of the moons into a station, but it would take many cycles of preparation and mining local resources to have the ability to build a station there. In fact, most of the Andlios Republic were settlements on inhabitable planets and moons, with Cyngen standing out the most because of it existing in a system of underground caverns. “There shouldn’t be any signs of activity by Gimle.”
“Yes, well.” Cronus looked uncomfortable. “We have more pressing issues to worry about right now.”
Kara
“Peter, we have trouble.” Kara had dragged Peter out of the audience chamber into the hallway, since Cronus was too distracted to really care what happened.
“That’s what I’ve gleaned from the situation, yeah,” he said, visibly looking pained. “Also, I’m glad you are doing well. Jack and Hideo took good care of you, I’m assuming?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “They were a delight, but Peter, that’s not the problem.”
“You are telling me.” He was leaning against the wall and looking pale.
“What?” She looked up at him, concerned. She had known there was a plan in action, but it had escaped her mind after all that had happened since she returned to Krigar. “Are you alright? You don’t look okay, Peter.”
“I’ll explain later,” he let out a deep sigh. Something was very clearly wrong with him, though. “What’s wrong?”
“That device in the sky they have been talking about?”
“Yeah, what in the name of the gods is that all about?”
“It’s Earth, Peter, I just know it.”
“What?” The look on his face took a turn for the grave, and he rubbed his temples. “How? He didn’t, did he?”
“We’ve kept relations with Earth quiet since you and Jonah sent Navarro and the Fourth Fleet away, we’ve kept the illusion up that they’ve stayed away, but Cronus wasn’t equipped to handle this. You know how he is.”
“This is my fault,” he said. “I was always the one who handled Earth relations, I should have pushed harder when Cronus transferred that to one of his cronies.”
“He didn’t transfer it to anyone, Peter,” she said. “He handled it himself.”
Peter simply stood there, staring off into space for a moment, the silence growing awkward and uncomfortable and his skin looking more and more pallid. Kara could feel her palms sweating and wanted to know what was going through his head. “That’s the worst possible thing I’ve heard all day.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” He looked around at the guards lining the hallways. “I need to sit down, at least.”
“His guards haven’t left my side since I arrived, I doubt they will now. Peter, it’s time to put all our cards on the table.”
“I guess it is,” he let out a sigh.
“He brokered a deal with the Earth forces, one that he claimed would leave them satisfied for good. No more payments to them.”
“I’m guessing that it wasn’t the best decision?”
“No.” She let out a strained laugh at the absurdity of their situation. “Of course not, it’s Cronus. He offered them the resources of Gimle for them to not attempt to interfere with us again.”
“So he gave them a foothold into Republic space?”
“More or less, yes,” she said. “But Peter, it was working just fine.”
“Oh?” He looked surprised. “But ‘was.’ What happened for it to go south?”
“It’s Cronus,” she said bluntly, feeling the sadness well up inside of her that she had to think of her son in such a way. “After a matter of weeks, he changed his mind and was uncomfortable with having an Earth presence within our borders…”
“Don’t tell me he attacked them.”
“He did,” she said, fighting back the tears. “Of course he did.”
“So what is that structure out there in space, then?”
“We don’t know,” she said. “But Trallex believes it might be a gate of some sort.”
“A gate? How?”
“They aren’t sure, they aren’t even sure how it was constructed because there have been no Earth forces detected in the area for a while now. It was just there one day.”
“My gods.” O’Neil slumped back against the wall again, clutching at his chest. “What has he done? That fool.”
“Peter, if I had known you were here, if I had known they had picked you up, I would have pushed for Cronus to let you out, for us to figure this out together, but…”
“It’s fine, Kara.” He looked up at her, a pained look on his face. “What’s done is done.”
“So what was it that has you so concerned?”
“Katrijn,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Katrijn was heading here right now or gods, if she was already here inside the palace.”
“Kat?” Her heart skipped a beat. “She’s here? I knew you were bringing her back here and that you had a plan, but what was this plan?”
“It’s in the wind now, I guess,” he said. “When they discovered me here on Andlios I quickly surrendered before they could figure out who was here with me. But the general idea of the plan was that we’d bide our time and find a way to break her into the palace and dispose of Cronus.”
“No.” She shook her head, feeling the horror wash over her. “No, this can’t be. Peter, if that truly is a gate and Earth is planning something, we need Cronus on the throne. We need Cronus to take responsibility. Now is not the time for a power play, there is more at stake than a legacy or a throne.”
“Don’t I know it,” he said, pushing himself off of the wall and struggling to keep himself upright. “I don’t have access to any comms anymore, so I can’t reach out to Loren or Katrijn, and they have Trella now…”
“You know her?”
“Yes,” he said. “She came here with us. She was one of our aces, actually. She helped raise Alva on Cyngen.”
“So Trallex was lying?”
“When isn’t he?” They both laughed at their distrust of the Cydonian leader. “Giger was somehow actually correct about something. In fact, I’m worried what he might do; that dressing down from Cronus was pretty brutal.”
“So she does know Alva, then?”
“Trallex had an agreement with Tyr to revive Alva and to keep her safe, but it looks like Trallex had another idea and she was his ticket to overthrowing Cronus and installing her in power as his puppet.”