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CW: strong language.

Chapter 10

Xerian, Niall and Lautrec were left in a holding cell for some time. Minutes stretched on, until more than an hour had passed, and the armoured security door finally opened.

"His Imperial Majesty will see you now," the blue commander informed them, entering the cell with two mooks behind him. "Please do not try anything stupid, or you will be terminated. And then I'll have to explain it all to Him."

* * *

The throne room was brightly lit, and surrounded by screens set into the walls, giving the impression of a starship captain's bridge that had been remodelled by an insane autocrat. Which is basically what had happened.

Upon an ornate chair, a diminutive Protogen sat. Standing, he would probably have reached four feet tall, but not much beyond that. His fur was purple, with occasional dots of white that vaguely suggested the night sky. His cybernetic parts were glossy black metal, and he wore polished black rubber gauntlets with white stars on the backs of the hands. His cheeks, hips and shoulders had a red star design on them and from his black visor, a single purple horn protruded from his forehead. A cloak was fastened to his artificial shoulders and it was gloss black on the outside. The lining was spotted to represent a starfield.

"Behold your Emperor!" the commander proclaimed loudly. Xerian began clapping enthusiastically until the blue-furred commander placed a hand on his shoulder with an angry look on his electronic face. The Synth bowed his head, visor blushing with embarrassment.

"At least he's not Daniel Cyra," Niall muttered, and then glanced back with a start at a noise behind them. As they watched, one of the officer-grade Protogens led a mook into the room. They walked forward until their charge had drawn level with Xerian, who started suddenly as he realised who he was looking at.

"Praise the Emperor," the black Protogen said blankly, saluting stiffly before the throne. He was still wearing the rubber dress, although black leather gauntlets had been placed on his hands, covering the opera gloves he had been wearing before and which still seemed to be present underneath. The shoulder displays had the thunderbolt design.

"Oh Quirk..." Xerian wept. "What have they done to you...?"

"Finally!" the Emperor crowed. "The traitor has become one of my minions once more! Commander, you shall be well rewarded for ridding us of that infernal nuisance!"

"Just doing my duty, your highness!" the blue protogen knelt, with a happy expression on his visor.

"That is a nice dress," the Emperor said, looking Quirk over. "Perhaps I shall have him visit my chamber after this audience is concluded. Since he has proved a failure as an elite guard, he may make a better concubine."

Quirk showed no expression.

"Now!" the Emperor said, turning to face the others. "Robot..."

"Yes, your majesty?" Lautrec and Niall chorused.

"Not you, the red one!" the Emperor snapped. "Ugh. What is your name?"

"Xerian, your highness," the Synth said, kneeling before him.

"Xerian, then. You are one of the natives from the planet, correct?"

"Yes, your highness," Xerian said. "If I may be permitted to ask... Why are you doing this to us? What is it all for?"

The Emperor's men started slightly, expressions of surprise and shock displaying on the visors of the Commander and the other officers for a moment. Some of them glanced at each other nervously.

"Hah," the Emperor said, looking amused. He rubbed his black gloves together with an annoying squeaky sound and sat back in his throne.

"Once, I was a great hero," the Emperor began. "I became famous. I singlehandedly saved entire worlds!"

"Have you considered getting back into that line of work...?" Xerian asked. The commander gasped in shock.

"Why? So they can laugh at me again?" The Emperor snapped. "I saved their worlds, but did they give me a thimbleful of credit? No! Did they lift a finger to help? Ensure I got enough supplies to do the job? NO!
"They sold me the equipment at a mark-up just because I was a stranger! I saved their lives, their families and to them I was just another stupid little fluffball!
"Well, fuck them!" the Emperor said, waving his rubber-gloved fist in the air. "Fuck them, and fuck their worlds! Soon I shall return... and this time they shall beg for salvation... Salvation from ME!"

"That was extremely shitty of them, your majesty," Niall agreed. "I too have saved the ungrateful - Defended the lives and souls of people who would not only have beheaded me without a moment's thought, but would then have celebrated my death if they had ever realised I was an incubus in disguise.
"So I can definitely see where you're coming from, though if you want my advice, I'm not sure this is the right answer. May I ask, though... Why involve Xerian's world? We are all neutral third parties here."

"I came here to raise an army, fox," the Emperor said, with an eager tone to his voice. "A robot army... that will scythe through my foes as a harvester reaps grain!"

"You want an army of combine harvesters?" Xerian looked confused. "Why didn't you just ask? We can build as many as you need!"

"No, simpleton!" the Emperor snarled. "I want an army of you! With a million of you robots in the stasis chambers, loaded up with our combat software, they shall crush the fools who overthrew me! When this ship returns to the Zenith Sector it shall return bearing vengeance!"

"And how is that going, majesty?" Niall asked. "Any luck with the combat software?"

"Soon!" the Emperor said. "Their microcircuitry is more complex than my engineers had expected, but that is but a temporary setback! We will understand it in the end! We will find the key to unlocking their aggression soon! Whatever safety systems are inhibiting them now those shall fall before our superior technology and their full combat potential shall be ours! Power... Freedom... Death!"

Niall winced and his hand twitched slightly as if he was struggling not to face-palm. "They are pacifists," he said slowly, as if he couldn't quite bear to watch the Emperor dig himself further into that hole. "They are specifically designed not to be aggressive. Partly as a safety feature, but partly because it's just not what they were intended for. Just trying to talk about violence makes them stutter."

"Then what were they built for?" the Emperor demanded. "Tell me now, or face my wrath!"

"They were designed to pick fruit, your majesty," Niall said, bowing.

"Nonsense! Look at them all! Who would build so many robots if not for an army?"

"It's a simplistic description, but essentially correct, your highness," Xerian said apologetically. "Our creators needed a lot of agricultural labour, but they couldn't afford to feed that many people. So they created artificial farm-hands who could perform delicate tasks such as picking fruit, which cannot easily be automated otherwise. This was long ago, of course. Now we are regular citizens so our numbers tend to reflect the population trends of our organic colleagues."

The Emperor blinked with incomprehension and his face looked appalled for a moment. "But... But... Are you telling me that you have no army at all?!"

"We never needed one, your highness," Xerian said apologetically. "It was a time of turmoil, or so the history books say. The bulk of our civilisation collapsed and only the colonies that encouraged mutual cooperation flourished. The ones that chose v-violence... d-died out. Two thousand years of selection pressure towards peaceful cooperation doesn't leave much room for soldiers, I'm afraid."

"You chose a pacifist planet to raise your army, your highness," Lautrec said.

"But they made you, cat!" he protested finally, pointing at the robotic jaguar with a black rubber gauntlet.

"Nah, I'm an import, your majesty," the jaguar said. "I don't think they have the tooling to work this kind of armour. Sure... they've been making their own cyberjags, but based on Synth brains, Synth technology and with that same pacifist streak. I am from another universe entirely, lent to Xerian as his bodyguard, and they have loaded me up with safeguards."

"You, cat!" the Emperor asked, looking pleased. "Have you considered a change in careers? You are built as a predator. I can free you from your safeguards! By my side, I can give you all the violence and blood your carnivorous little heart could wish for! With an army like you I will be unstoppable!"

"Umm," Lautrec said, glancing nervously at Niall. "You know, that is kind of tempting.."

At that moment the lights suddenly went out. The Emperor looked around wildly. "What has happened...? You! Find out!"

"Yes, Majesty," one of the officers said, and ran out of the room.

A few moments later, the lights came back on. The door opened to reveal the officer, but instead of entering the room he toppled over and collapsed on the ground, his visor displaying little X's for eyes.

"Who's done this?!" the Emperor screamed. "It must have been the kangaroo! Find him! Bring him to me! I want to watch him die!"

"Die..." Quirk said suddenly in a toneless voice, and his visor began flashing "KiLL" again. Xerian and Niall threw themselves to the ground as the crazed Protogen went berserk, all inhibitions removed without the effort of will that had kept him sane before. He leapt at the nearest target he could find - one of the officers. "Kill, kill..." he repeated in a monotone voice, snapping his victim's neck and relieving them of their weapon.

"Kill," Quirk slurred, firing the weapon wildly to no apparent purpose as random lines began appearing on his visor - his combat software glitching out and going completely haywire. The Emperor fled, vanishing through a secret passage to some kind of panic room or hideout.

Niall seized the weapon from a fallen mook, and strode towards the insane cyborg with a hard expression on his face. "Quirk," he said. "Quirk - snap out of it! Please!" The black Protogen turned to face him. "Kill," he said again and reached for Niall's throat.

"I'm sorry, Quirk..." the vulpine said softly, and shot him under the chin.

"Guh," the Protogen choked and collapsed, his visor blank.

"No!" Xerian screamed.

"Boss?! What the fuck?!" Lautrec screeched, looking appalled.

"No time!" Niall said. "We have to go!"

"Go where?!" Xerian protested.

"I don't know!" Niall said, running towards the door. "But we have to leave!"

* * *

"Boss, you murdered Quirk!" Lautrec protested, as they ran down the corridors. "What the hell's wrong with you?! What will the Commission say if you get back home?!"

"He was already gone," Niall said. "They'd lobotomised him. And you saw him... he was a danger to everyone!"

"That's no excuse!" Xerian snapped. "He was our only ally here apart from that weird kangaroo, and I'm not sure I trust him either! He knew they layout of the ship! He knew how to hack the doors open. Without him we're completely f-fucked and we might as well surrender!"

"I have a keycard," Niall said. "It was around an officer's neck."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?!" Xerian snarled. "They'll be able to track it! They'll cancel it the moment they see what's happened!"

"Think," Niall snapped back testily. "What happens to dead Protogens here?"

"Oh," Lautrec said, sounding a bit happier. "He'll be put into the resurrection machinery! But... then they'll lobotomise him and we'll be back to square one."

"In here," Niall said, opening a storage room door with his plundered key. "Yes. Quirk will be taken away to be reanimated and lobotomised - or so I hope."

"That's horrible-" Xerian started, then paused as he considered the implications.

"This is my plan," Niall said. "We're opposite what I hope is the nearest medical facility, so I'm assuming they'll take him there. Lautrec, you watch from the shadows and tap on the door rapidly if you see the robots coming with his body. When that happens, we follow them. We wait until the robot has started the procedure, and then take them out."

"Ohh!" Xerian looked relieved. "You want to retrieve Quirk after he's been revived, but before they s-scramble his b-brains?"

"Precisely!" Niall said. "I'm not a monster, Xerian. Or at least, I try not to be."

"What happens if we can't rescue him in time?" Lautrec asked. "What if they take him somewhere else instead?"

"Then I guess I'll have to shoot him again," Niall sighed. "Though I really hope it doesn't come to that."