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Chapter 28

Xerian awoke in a comfortable bed. It was a little too short for his lean frame. Blinking for a moment, he suddenly remembered that he was now supreme commander of a warship, and this was the Imperial bedroom suite.

He got up and showered, then left the suite, where his predecessor was waiting for him like a butler.

"You were right," Xerian said to Cyra as they arrived at the bridge.

"Majesty?" the protogen tilted his head like a dog.

"Being Emperor is a pain in the tail," Xerian sighed. "It's been less than a day and already there's been an insurrection."

"Don't look at me," the purple protogen shrugged. "I'm done with being overlord. And I'm not sure Quirk would be a good pick either."

"Good morning, your Majesty," Lieutenant Sorg said. "I believe we have found your missing companion."

"'Zuki...?" Xerian asked, looking excited. "Where is he...?"

"In the infirmary, I am afraid," Sorg said nervously. "We were right. He has been processed."

* * *

The glossy black Synth sat in a large chair, waiting patiently. He had plantigrade legs and the same joint design as Zuki, but his eyes and status lights were a threatening red and his expression was somehow vacant.

"'Zuki...?" Xerian asked cautiously.

"Slugs...?" the Synth asked, and then bowed. "Praise the Emperor!"

Xerian began to weep.

"Now you've made the Emperor cry," Lautrec scolded. Niall trod on his foot.

"Xerian..." the Synth suddenly said. "Love... Help me..."

"We're trying," Xerian told him desperately. "Believe me, we're trying."

"Slugs," the black Synth said and went back to staring at the ceiling again.

"We are trying our best," Sorg said, cringing slightly. "But the Synth processing techniques were mostly designed by Lobil. They were a favourite of the old Emperor..."

"So where is this person now?" Niall asked. "Could they help us?"

Sorg shook his head sadly. "They refused. Lobil was devoted the the Emperor... They became one of the ring-leaders of the rebellion. You may recall, Lord Niall, that certain of these traitors chose to kill themselves rather than surrender..."

"Well, shit."

"None of the casualties appear to have suffered implant damage," Sorg added quickly. "But the sheer volume of casualties has made revival harder. And in any case, if they don't want to cooperate, it will be difficult to force them without resorting to the heavy-handed methods of the old regime."

"Uh, boss," Lautrec said awkwardly. "If those rebels are being patched up... What does that mean for the ex-Emperor?"

"Oh no," Xerian said, and the four of them quickly ran back to the bridge.

* * *

"Okay," Xerian said in an authorative tone as he slowly got the hang of being in charge, "The old Emperor and the rebels. They're being revived by the robots and the healing suites, correct?"

"Many of them already have been revived during the sleep cycle," one of the officers said with a crisp salute. "Do you wish to interrogate them, your Majesty?"

"No," Xerian said. "But I do want to know where they are now. I will have questions for some of them."

"We did not feel the matter was worth awakening you for," the lackey said, "So they were kept in the detention chambers to await the pleasure of your judgement, Majesty."

"I told you this lot were toadies," Quirk muttered.

Xerian glanced at them. "Chill," he said. "You're overdoing the whole servility thing. You should have a life of your own outside of serving me, you know."

Horrified, the officer fell to their knees and closed their eyes as if awaiting decapitation from the variable sword.

"Oh, stop that!" Xerian said irritably. "Get up, do your job, and get some rest when you go off-shift."

"And try to be a bit less greasy," Lautrec suggested. "More like Sorg."

"Rude," Xerian sighed. "If accurate. Now! You said they were in a detention centre...?"

"Yes... Sir. I can bring that up on the main screen if you desire..."

He punched in a couple of numbers. The main viewscreen suddenly went blank.

"Oh," the protogen said. He switched cameras. The screen flickered and then stayed blank.

"Quirk...?" Xerian glanced at the assassin irritably.

"Not guilty," the black protogen said, scowling as he grabbing his favourite rifle from a nearby locker. "I bet ten-to-one that slippery little bastard's escaped!"

"Oh," Sorg looked miserable. "I had hoped that being rebuilt would cure him of his megalomaniac tendencies," he said.

There was a clang from one of the air vents above them.

"That would not have worked," P3T3R said, poking his head down into the room.

"You!" Sorg snarled angrily.

"Emperor Xerian did not want people's brains to be tampered with," the kangaroo said. "Nor did Lord Lautrec."

"Ooh!" the panther looked extremely pleased. "I've never been a lord before! I like the sound of that!"

"Shush," Niall said. "Please carry on, P3T3R."

"After Lord Cyra here was restored to sanity, I disabled all personality modifications made by the surgery units.
"I did not anticipate that someone might restore him from a backup," he added unhappily. "I have failed."

"So the rebels are still rebellious," Xerian sighed.

"If that is their nature," the kangaroo confirmed. "Any who were brainwashed into loyalty, they will revert to their default personalities. But those who were honestly rooting for Lord Cyra will continue to do so."

"How do you know so much about this?" Quirk demanded. "You seem to know everything that is going on!"

"I will tell you afterwards," P3T3R said. "First, you must stop the former Emperor."

"Again," Lautrec sighed.

"I would check camera 41F," the ProtoRoo suggested.

The screen showed a corridor with a crowd of protogens making their way to the stern of the ship. They were talking incomprehensibly amongst themselves.

"Not good," Niall said. "That's their native language, right...? If they're no longer making allowances for us, that's a bad sign."

"I can't quite make out what they're saying," Cyra said, cocking his head slightly. "...Oh."

"What...?" Xerian asked tensely.

"So, when I was overthrown," the protogen said slowly, "Not yesterday, way back when I was forced out of my palace by a mob with flaming torches, I and my supporters stole this ship and fled into the great unknown, swearing to return with an army to wreak vengance."

"Yes, yes, that's why 'Zuki is babbling about slugs," Xerian said tersely.

"I'm really sorry about that," Cyra said awkwardly, looking at the floor. "Point is, they're doing it again. They're talking about leaving the ship."

"The escape pods...?" Niall looked alarmed. "Tooled up like that, they could cause all kinds of mayhem on the planet! We've got to stop them!"

* * *

Lautrec, Niall and Quirk ran down the corridor towards the stern with a cohort of officers in tow, calling out the Protogen equivalent of "Stop! Police!"

Xerian and Lord Cyra were following them, forced to duck suddenly as the enemy protogens opened fire, resulting in a brief skirmish.

"They're not really putting their hearts into it," Cyra said suspiciously. "That looks like a holding manoeuver to slow us down while they work their mischief. See...? They're putting up token resistance and scarpering."

"That's good in a way, right?" Xerian said. "I don't want anyone k-killed!"

"That's not the way to the escape pods," Cyra said suddenly. "What the hell are they doing...?"

Suddenly a loud clang reverberated across that part of the ship. Warning sirens blared, and the group hurried along.

"What have they done?!" Xerian demanded. "Is that the self-destruct...?"

"No," Cyra looked mortified. "It's the hangar bay doors. They're stealing my ship!"

"What...?" Xerian gestured at the metal corridors of the Vengance in confusion.

"Your ship," Lord Cyra corrected himself. "The royal yacht. It has a healing suite, ultradrive and years worth of supplies.
"I liked that ship," he added mournfully. Xerian patted him on the shoulder.

"Maybe we can build you another," he said.

* * *

Back on the bridge, Xerian settled into the throne and tapped his fingers thoughtfully. "At some point we should probably replace this with something less ostentatious," he suggested. "And ideally, more comfortable."

"We may have the original chair in storage," Lord Cyra said. "Though it was not designed for a lizard tail."

"Well, that could have gone better," Niall sighed, wandering over to Xerian. "The bad guy escaping, I mean."

"Yeah," Lautrec agreed. "If we'd had a dead Emperor corpse we could have pinned all the atrocities on him! No-one needs to know Lord Cyra kind of did them too."

"Lautrec!" Xerian scolded. "What's a grisly thing to suggest!"

"It still works," Niall said. "The evil Emperor has escaped. If he does show up, he'll absolutely take credit for all this. This guy here, on the other hand... He'd rather forget all that stuff, right...?"

"Forget the time I was turned into a stupid, insane murderer?" the protogen said, making a disgusted face. "Naturally."

"That solves the problem then," Xerian said. "But just in case anyone asks... Lord Cyra, I hereby pardon you for your misdeeds."

"After all he did?!" Quirk sounded horrified. "He's committed genocide! Mass executions! Lobotomies! He turned your lover into a vegetable! You can't do that!"

"He just did," Sorg pointed out.

"Yes," Xerian said sharply. "Because he was driven mad by a hacker. He was criminally insane, and not in his right mind, much like 'Zuki is at present. Would you have me punish him too, for trying to shoot us?
"Lord Cyra has been cured and can retake his place in society. That said, I would like him to be monitored for a while, just in case there is any kind of relapse."

"The Emperor has spoken!" Sorg pronounced loudly.

Lord Cyra bowed, displaying tears on his visor.

"I cannot thank you enough, your majesty," he wept. "I will do my best to uphold your wishes."

"Meanwhile, we must inform the Outer Rim that the evil Emperor has fled," Eris said. "While he is still out there, the Outer Rim won't be safe. We'll have to build some kind of defensive fleet, much as it pains me to admit it."