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Chapter 27

"Boss!" Lautrec cried, bursting into the throne room. "We've got a problem!"

"Impertinence!" Lieutenant Sorg protested. "You will address our Emperor with respect, cat!"

"Shush," Xerian said. "What's the problem, Lautrec?"

"It's the mad Emperor! He's back!"

"What?!" the Synth looked horrified.

"That little shit betrayed us?!" Quirk spat. "I knew I should have incinerated him!"

"No, you don't understand! Put the corridor B on the screen," Lautrec said.

Xerian stared in astonishment as the main screen of the starship's bridge cleared to show two protogens facing off, as a group of nearby officers watched in confusion.

"But I am the Emperor!" the new protogen screamed. "Guards! Destroy this impostor!"

The officers looked at each other, concerned. "Ummm..." one of them said awkwardly. "I'm afraid you don't have that authority, sir."

The Emperor looked as if he'd been slapped. "What is the meaning of this insubordination?! You shall lose your mind for this!"

"They have a new Emperor now," Lord Cyra said cheerily. "I ceded power to Xerian."

"You did what?!" the protogen shrieked.

"Trying to rule a bunch of star systems was a stupid idea," the protogen pointed out reasonably. "And if I'm not executed for the things I've done while I was suffering delusions of grandeur, I'm going to try and make amends for it all."

"You're broken," the would-be Emperor said, looking disgusted. "Listen to yourself! You're not me! Get out of my way. I will deal with that fool Xerian first, and then put you out of your misery!"

"Broken?" Lord Cyra looked amused. "I'm not the one who's been digitally lobotomised by a pastel kangaroo. If anyone's broken here, it's you. Your mind is addled, your intelligence level has been halved and you cannot think clearly. I On the other hand, have been repaired.
"Now listen - The power transfer was done in writing, signed as an official decree so it cannot be revoked. So just calm down and surrender quietly. I'm sure your successor will be merciful if you give up and forget all this silliness."

"It can be revoked if all the witnesses are dead," the other one retorted. "So maybe I should start with you after all!"

"You forget," the original said. "I am Lord Cyra - saviour of worlds! You are a damaged copy of me, and I will stop you if I can."

"Once you are dead," the mad one retorted, "I shall purge this ship of all who whose loyalty has wavered. Their corpses shall be rendered to feedstock and new protogens grown from the carbon chains. Except for Quirk. He shall be fed into my replicator and made into new gloves!
"I shall raise my army of Synths and converted protogens from the planet, and this time... I shall win!"

* * *

"He needs backup," Quirk said, seizing a rifle. "I'll go!"

"Lock the bulkhead doors when Quirk gets there," Niall advised. "We don't want the usurper getting reinforcements."

"Technically I am the usurper," Xerian sighed.

"Do not say such things, majesty!" Sorg said crisply. "You are our Emperor now, and those who have contrived this... situation... are traitors and must be hunted down!"

"How has this happened at all, though?" Eris asked. "Where did the new one come from?"

"Those ones at the back," Toast said. "They've still got the lightning bolt thing on their cheeks. That's not good."

"You said there were clones of the old Emperor," Xerian said, looking at Sorg, who was watching the screen in horror. "Ready to be thawed in case of emergency. That's how you revived Lord Cyra, right...?"

"Indeed," Sorg said. "And there are regular backups of his implants."

"So this lot, loyalists to the old regime, who preferred Lord Cyra's goals have revived one of the other hot spares, installed new implants and programmed them with an old backup from before he was cured - bringing back the insane tyrant that they know and love," Niall sighed. "I don't even want to think about the metaphysics behind this."

At that moment, one of the rebels noticed the camera and fired, causing the screen to go blank.

"We had quite enough of that when Quirk was on the loose," Lieutenant Sorg sighed. "I'll try to find another view, Majesty."

"I was going to ask," Niall said, "Who would win a popularity contest between Mad Lord Cyra and Xerian? How many share the old Emperor's goals?"

"...I wish I knew," Toast said gloomily. "Some of them were true believers, convinced we should crush those weaker than ourselves and take their stuff, just because we could."

"But if the ex-Emperor now plans to mulch them down into protogen concentrate..." Niall said. "That might tip the balance in Xerian's favour."

"True," Xerian looked happier. "Could we play his speech over the public address system...?"

"At once, majesty," Oram said, and took the controls of the comms system.

* * *

"KiLL," Quirk burbled, shooting a couple of rebels before ducking back behind the door.

"You're enjoying this far too much," Lord Cyra observed, sniping at his evil twin and missing.

"You made me that way", Quirk reminded him. "Or he did. Either way, I might not get the chance to kill people much after this so I want to make the most of it!"

So saying, he threw a grenade into the corridor and was rewarded by a loud explosion and several screams.

"You can't win!" the evil one yelled. "We'll kill you all!"

At that moment, Xerian's voice resonated throughout the corridors of the ship.

"People of the Vengeance," he said, "This is acting Emperor Xerian. I know not everyone will share my aims. But you must now choose a side. The ship is entering a state of civil war.
"You must all of you decide whether to pursue peaceful coexistence with the Outer Rim, and make amends with your own homeworlds under my guidance... Or whether you wish to follow a resurrected Lord Cyra and his self-centred plans of conquest and piracy.

"As you decide, keep in mind that I will show mercy to those who have seen the error of their ways. Lord Cyra on the other hand..."

"Once you are dead, I shall purge this ship of all who whose loyalty has wavered. Their corpses shall be rendered to feedstock and new protogens grown from the carbon chains. Except for Quirk. [I]He shall be fed into my replicator and made into new gloves![/I]"

"...Anyway, that's his offer," Lautrec's voice chipped in. "Vote Xerian if you want to live, vote Lord Cyra if you want to get chopped up and turned into sexy gloves. No pressure," he added.

* * *

Shortly after the broadcast, one of the officers made a startled sound and turned towards Xerian.

"Majesty, there is a disturbance," he said, bringing up a screen showing a corridor full of angry protogens, armed with rifles, tools and anything else they could find, and swarming through the ship.

"Can you get a better picture?" Niall asked.

"You can thank Quirk for that," the officer said. "We don't have audio here either, but I'll do what I can."

"Where are they heading?" Xerian asked worriedly. "This is clearly an armed insurrection, but against who...?"

"I'll go," Niall said, putting on his helmet. "If they're against us, you'll soon know."

"I'll go too, boss," Lautrec said. "You've got guards here, and a panic room if things get really ugly."

* * *

"Wait! Wait!" Niall called, standing in front of the swarming mass like a policeman directing traffic. "What you doing?!"

"Xerian! Xerian!" the crowd yelled, coming to a halt in front of him. "We want Xerian!"

"Why...?" Niall demanded. "What's he ever done to you?"

"Freedom!" The crowd cheered. "Death to Lord Cyra! Xerian for Emperor!"

"Ohhh," Lautrec said. "It's the mooks! The guys we saved from being lobotomised!"

"Yes!" one of the leaders said. "He gave us back our minds! Lord Cyra will take them away again, and for that, he must die!"

"Death!" the crowd yelled.

"Okay," Niall shrugged. "Just make sure you kill the evil one, okay? Since one of the Cyras is on our side."

So saying, he gave a big thumbs-up to the security camera and the bulkhead door opened.

Lautrec bounded ahead of the crowd, and was promptly shot by the evil Lord Cyra.

"Die, cat!" he shrieked. "This is your fault!"

Lautrec picked himself up shakily. "You do it to yourself, you do," he sang, and crouched.

"You can't," Lord Cyra whimpered, frantically trying to reload his assault rifle. "You have safeguards!"

"I'm not allowed to fight Synths or organic civilians," Lautrec said. "But you're neither!" So saying, he leaped. Lord Cyra screamed as the claws raked his chest armour, piercing the metal protecting his vitals. Fangs sank into his gun-arm, and the limb was pulled from its artifical socket, clattering to the ground with the laser rifle still clutched in it.

"You..." the protogen yelped, and then a hail of fire flew over them as the mooks and the Imperial loyalists fought.

"STOP!" Niall yelled eventually, standing between the two groups like a traffic enforcer in his black armour. "Enough killing! Listen up, rebels... You've picked the wrong side. The rest of the ship doesn't want their old Emperor back, and you can't force them to accept him."

"Then they will die!" Lord Cyra said. Quirk went rigid and his visor displayed strange symbols. "No they won't," he said thickly and rapped a grenade over Cyra's visor as though he was cracking an egg.

The flashbang left the ex-Emperor lying dazed on the floor. He could hear Quirk burbling happily to himself as his missing arm was replaced, bound and he was forced to his knees. When his vision finally cleared, he looked up to see his other self standing over him with a grim expression.

"Oh dear," the purple protogen sighed. "It's hard to kill... yourself. I wonder if this counts as regicide or suicide...?" he pondered unhappily, flicking off the safety and aiming it at Lord Cyra's head. "Goodbye, your majesty," he added, and fired.

The enemy protogen's head ruptured, killing him instantly as red mess was sprayed over the floor. The black gloved hands twitched and went limp.

A hush ran through the survivors, and one of the ex-mooks took aim at the purple protogen. Cyra dropped his gun, raising both hands.

"Hold it, hold it!" Quirk interrupted. "Don't shoot! This one's the good one. I hope," he added, with a suspicious glance. The soldier lowered his weapon uncertainly but didn't let go.

Niall turned to the rebels angrily. "And as for you... What did you do this for?" he demanded, aiming a kick at the dead Emperor. "Why side with that maniac?"

"Because he was our Emperor!" the protogen snarled bitterly. "We stood to be rewarded well for our service! We would have been made kings and queens! Ruled whole worlds on behalf of our overlord! And then..." he pointed furiously at Cyra. "Then, he threw it all away!"

"So you figured you'd bring him back," Niall said sighing. "Nice try, but it's not happening again.
"Soldiers...!" he barked, glancing at the ex-mooks, and pointing at the rebel leaders. "In the name of His Majesty, Lord Xerian, I command you to arrest them!"

"No!" the ringleader yelped, and raised his weapon, only for it to be plucked from his grip by Lautrec's metal jaws.

Trembling with rage and the perceived injustice of it all, the ringleader pulled a handgun from his belt and promptly shot himself, joining his Emperor in death.

The other rebels were split. Some tried to fight and were cut down, others took their own lives and the rest threw down their arms in surrender.

When it was over, Niall turned to face the assembled crowd of ex-mooks. "Thanks, guys!" he said. "Hopefully we won't have to do this again."

The crowd marched back towards the throne room, amid triumphant chants of "Xerian! Xerian!" from the soldiers, and from Lord Cyra himself.

Behind them, the robots began to remove the dead.