Waking up in a lab after being sedated for who knows how long is not a good sign.

  One individual in a dark grey military uniform stood out from the others. He spoke to one of the lab coats in a gruff and grizzled voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Listen, you fucking twat! I don’t care how understaffed you are or how much you miss your family. I wanted this procedure done yesterday, but seeing as it’s already today, you’d best make it happen!”

  His opening sentence triggered a recollection – a memory – of standing on the bridge of the Stormfalcon getting ready to set off the mass conversion device as we approached Ares.

  The crew had opened up a line of communication with the three Empire frigates before us, and I’d heard the voice of one …

  “General Harry Jake,” I drawled.

  As the soldier slowly pivoted, a man with an irritated expression and a severe case of male pattern baldness was revealed. His rather thick ginger beard was liberally streaked with grey, and he glared at me with his beady little eyes, his angry presence further intensified by the fiery red colour of his irises.

  “Well, well, well,” he sneered, his voice full of scorn. “The goddamn traitor awakens at fucking last.”

  I tried to shrug against my restraints. “I mean, that’s relative, isn’t it? I might seem awake, but I’m still feeling a bit groggy. A cup of coffee would be greatly appreciated.”

  The general scowled. “You might think this is some kind of joke, but I promise you it’s no laughing matter. Your predicament is quite dire.”

  “I was contemplating that,” I said as my eyes wandered around the room again. “It’s a sea of lab coats in here – what are they all doing? And come to think of it, where is here?”

  Now the general smiled. Which, somehow, was worse. At least when he scowled, it suited his overall angry demeanour, but when he smiled, it twisted his face into an unnatural expression of joy.

  “I want to explain where you are and what’s about to happen – believe me, I do. But honestly, I think it’ll be more interesting to watch you figure it out.”

  That doesn’t sound good.

  I ignored the general and focused on the room, trying to assess my situation. My chair of imprisonment seemed to be in the middle of the room, with no obvious reason for its placement. There were no devices or gadgets behind me or close by that would explain why it was there.

  “Are you handing out any clues?” I asked.

  “What do you fucking think?”

  “That you are?”

  “No!” he snapped; his voice echoed throughout the room. “I’m not giving you any fucking clues!”

  Bugger. Ah well, it’d been worth a shot.

  I glanced around the room again, now with more urgency. What was I not seeing?

  A scientist meekly approached the general, their hands quivering. “We’re ready, sir.”

  “Good,” he replied, again with that wicked grin. “Begin the extraction.”

  My body trembled with a wave of panic.

  “Extraction of what?” I asked as my stomach knotted with dread. “What are we talking about here? Blood? Organs?”

  “One last puzzle piece.”

  Well, that’s just fucking unhelpful isn’t it?

  I frantically scanned the room again, my heart racing now. But again, I couldn’t see anything – no puzzles, no tools for extracting blood, organs, or otherwise – nothing that seemed like it would be used on me.

  “This must be difficult … for your pride, or ego, or something. I mean, I’m assuming it was you who saved us when those Republic ships had us dead to rights and then let us go. It was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Regrettably, that was my choice.”

  “So, it must hurt, right? Having the tables turned now, being at my mercy?”

  “I’m regretting it more and more.”

  The general laughed. “I thought you might be. You still can’t work out what is going to happen, though, can you?”

  I felt the tension in my neck as I stared him down.

  “Alright – I’ll give you a little nudge in the right direction. You certainly have an impressive scar on your head.”

  My scar? What is he on about? What are they going to do, extract my brain?

  Suddenly, the idea didn’t seem so absurd in the grand scheme of things. I looked up, and a chill ran through my body at the sight of an extraction machine. Its spindly, multi-limbed, mechanical body glinted in the light, and its many tools of the trade – scalpel, blade, scoop, and needle – were ready for action. Chills ran down my spine as an arm with a circular saw on the end activated, the high-pitched scream of the spinning blade reverberating through the air.

  The pressure of multiple hands on my head was unmistakable as they forced me back against the seat.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled as they tightened a thick leather strap around my forehead. “Let go of me!”

  “Ensuring your head doesn’t move during the procedure,” the general’s calm voice came from behind me.

  “What’s the procedure? Stop!” I implored with fear vibrating in my voice.

  I heard the blade start its descent, the sound ringing in my ears as it drew nearer and nearer.

  “Anything you want to know, I’ll tell you!” I pleaded, my heart pounding. “Please!”

  “Unfortunately for you, traitor, we cannot uncover what we seek through words – it must be extracted. So, I’m sorry – no, that’s a lie. I’m not sorry at all.”

  At that moment, the saw’s icy, razor-sharp teeth ripped through my skin and bit into my skull, each tooth tearing away a chunk of flesh and bone. As my brain realised what was happening, a searing pain overwhelmed me. The blade circled my head, using the path of my existing scar as a guide; with no medication or sedation, each pass of the saw sent pain coursing through my body, burning red hot and angry, like fire in my nerves. Blood ran down my face and over my eyes, turning my world into a nightmarish shade of red. Immobile and unable to retreat, all I could do was cry out in agonising pain.

  “Aaarrrggghhh!” My eyes rolled into the back of my head as a scream of agony tore out of my vocal cords.

  I felt my body jolt as all my muscles suddenly contracted in unison; the pain tearing at my soul, ripping it apart. A memory emerged from the shredded remnants of my spirit and consumed me. Now I was in a small, dark room, fighting against four men as they pushed me into a chair and held me there whilst metallic restraints slid out of the chassis to restrain me. They stood back and watched, waiting for the device to remove my skull cap and alter my mind.

  Echoes of pain permeated every element of the vision, seeping out of every surface and smothering the air. The eyes of the past travelled over the faces of its aggressors, determined to commit each one to memory; three were unfamiliar to me, but the fourth I knew well – Doug, the Machina Station Insurgency leader.

  There was a sickening squelch as the machine pulled the top of my skull away, and the first probes inserted themselves into my grey matter. I looked up and saw Zavis staring down at me from the control room’s windows overlooking the operating theatre. His face was a patchwork of emotions: triumph, pain, and a touch of guilt.

  A maelstrom of rage erupted within. “You’ll suffer for this!” I screamed up at the advisor.

  The scene morphed into a cloud of black smoke that transformed into a gaunt and famished black wolf. I hadn’t fed it in a long time, but all this pain, it could take that – transforming anguish into anger and agony into fury. The wolf salivated, its anticipation building as the darkness in me rose, for when there was enough rage, it could convince me to feed it. And if I fed it …

  “Every time the darkness arises, it’s my job to refocus you.”

  My father’s voice echoed through my mind as my heart pounded, staring up at the giant, looming creature.

  “Not today,” I whispered.

  One last wave of pain surged through my body, and then the world faded to black.

  [)
  I awoke to darkness for a third time in what felt like just as many days. I slowly opened my eyes, straining to bring the blurry world into focus. I needed to know where I was and what was happening. I attempted to move my head, but piercing pain ran throughout my body, forcing me to hold back a scream. I gritted my teeth and fought the pain as I rotated my head to the left. I felt a small measure of relief as I realised Amorina was next to me, and beyond her, Ichirō and then Emma.

  We were all on our knees, with an Empire soldier behind each of us. I fought against the pain again as I swivelled my head to the right. Zavis was beside me, followed by Captain Edgell, First Lieutenant Orwig, and the rest of the Stardove crew. They were also on their knees with an armed soldier behind them. I shifted my gaze downward, and the pain eased as my head settled into a neutral position and became more manageable; hot tears streaked down my face. I clearly needed to move my head less, so I concentrated on my ears, willing the ringing to cease. The room was so silent that the few voices that whispered here and there reverberated off the walls.

  “He’s awoken, Your Grace,” came one murmured echo.

  “Finally!” I knew the voice the moment I heard it and winced at the volume of their exclamation, painfully loud in contrast to the previously hushed whispers.

  “What took you so long? I mean, it’s not like you just had open brain surgery or anything, right?”

  The soldiers in the room erupted into laughter, the sound resounding in a painful symphony.

  “Here I was –” the voice was moving closer “– worried that I’d have to walk over there and give you a prince’s kiss!”

  As another wave of laughter rebounded around my brain, I felt the presence of someone near me. Turning slightly, I saw the hem of a red and golden robe. A hand appeared before my face, gripped my jaw, and wrenched my head up.

  A sharp, searing pain shot through my body like a bolt of lightning. When it faded, and I could see who was standing before me, my heart skipped a beat.

  “You look a bit taken aback. Surprised, are we?”

  I couldn’t believe what I saw and heard – it was me: my face and voice.

  “Come on … Raith,” the other me drawled. “Connect the dots. Put it together.”

  Memories surged through my mind: confinement, strapped to a chair, anxiety, an extraction machine, fear, metal teeth biting into flesh and bone, pain and agony. They’d done something to my head … no, my brain. They’d obtained something, but it couldn’t be my brain – I wasn’t floating in a jar – which could only mean they’d extracted a … ghost?

  “Ty …” I attempted to speak, but my vocal cords emitted a feeble croak, then clamped shut.

  I remembered my throat burning as I’d screamed. There’d been so much screaming. My throat tightened as I tried to form the words, and I felt fresh tears stream down my face. I wet my lips and gave it another go.

  “Tynan,” I finally forced out, my voice rough and scratchy.

  “Ding, ding, ding! Give the man a prize!” Tynan yelled as he pushed my head away, pain jolting through my brain.

  “Ugh!” I groaned as my head throbbed.

  “Oh no, did that hurt you?” Tynan asked, feigning concern.

  “Fuck … you!” I croaked out my reply, my throat aching. I scrapped together some saliva and spat on the bottom of his robes for extra insult.

  Like a snake, Tynan’s fist shot out and connected with my jaw. Blinding white pain exploded through my skull. Before my head could complete its recoil, Tynan grabbed the back of it and yanked me towards him.

  His breath was hot against my ear as he hissed, “Choose your words carefully, Raith.” His voice dropped lower, “Consider whom else I have captive.”

  Tynan shoved me back and I heard him stomp away. I slowly raised my head and, through the haze of pain throbbing against my temples, watched him seat himself in a golden throne at the top of a raised stage. His face was expressionless, not giving away any hints at what he was thinking as he watched me. But at one time, his thoughts had been my own. He was cocky, sure of himself, and believed himself superior above all else.

  My spine tingled with the feeling of dread as I studied him, disturbed at seeing someone else wearing my face, and I noticed a sparkle in his eye, which only elevated my anxiety. He loved this, intoxicated by the power he had over me, my family, and my friends. Loved the answers he knew he had and I didn’t. I knew that if I wanted us to survive this encounter, I’d need to construct a mental image of my surroundings, understand the severity of the situation, and start identifying avenues for escape.

  “Where … are we?” I asked.

  “No one’s told you where you are?” Tynan replied with a sarcastic smirk. “The lack of manners around here is astounding. But I digress – you’re on Erebus, the last stronghold of the Empire!”

  Erebus?

  My conscious mind could not recall any details about an Empire world called Erebus, but as the word tumbled through my battered mind, it sparked a recollection of something familiar yet unknown. The knowledge surfaced from the depths of my unconscious.

  Erebus: The Greek personification of darkness and a region of the Underworld between Earth and Hades.

  Unfortunately, that bit of info was useless, and my plan to escape was already beginning to fail. How could I make a plan to get away from here when I didn’t know where here was?

  “Come on, Raith!” Tynan snapped. “Knowing what this planet is called wasn’t a profound revelation – no need for the stunned silence! Ask me a proper question – challenge me with an inquiry of substance!”

  “Like what?”

  Tynan gestured with his arms, spreading them to invite the question, “Ask me how I did it, how I’m here!”

  I peered at what I used to be, my dark reflection, my wicked past self. He delighted in mind games, the power he felt as he manipulated and bent people to his will. But I would not grant him the satisfaction.

  “Go on,” Tynan firmly urged, his voice dropping to those darker tones. “Ask me!”

  I held his gaze and felt a burning defiance within me.

  Tynan’s face contorted in rage as he roared, “Ask me!”

  I remained silent. To hell with this arsehole. Then I noticed General Jake striding towards his reanimated emperor.

  “Tynan, I don’t think this is –” he began, but Tynan didn’t let him finish.

  “What did you just say?” Tynan said as he spun around to confront the general.

  Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he hesitated. “Um … that I don’t think –”

  “No, before that,” Tynan interjected again.

  “Ah … Tynan?”

  With one swift motion, Tynan dove at the general and grabbed his sidearm from its holster on his hip. He flipped the gun in the air, the metal glinting in the light, and after he caught the weapon, he pointed it at the general’s knees and pulled the trigger.

  The sound of the shot echoed around the room and the general collapsed immediately as the bullet tore a hole through his leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Emma jump in shock at the gunfire.

  “Argh!” Jake cried as he clutched his shattered knee. “What the fuck, sir?”

  Tynan pointed the gun at his other knee and pulled the trigger. The general screamed again as he clutched helplessly at both legs. I glanced at Emma and saw the blood had drained from her face.

  No child should have to see this.

  “I want everybody,” Tynan said as he spun to address the room, “to pay attention to this. You will address me as Your Grace. My Lord is acceptable, but I prefer Your Grace. Never call me sir, commander, emperor, or Tynan!”

  “Forgive me, Your Grace,” General Jake groaned as he writhed in agony.

  The gun fired a final time and Emma shrieked. Amorina pulled her close and held her tight. The general’s body lay limp in a pool of blood, and a heavy silence descended upon the room.

  “Apology … accepted.”

  Tynan pivoted and strode back to his throne.

  “Clean this mess up before it stains the floor.”

  A few soldiers rushed forward and hauled the body away, while others came with mops and buckets and frantically cleaned the mess.

  “Let me see, where did I leave off … oh yes. Raith – ask me!”

  “Humour him,” Zavis whispered beside me. “Humour him, and we might make it out of this alive.”

  “Fine – how did … you do it … Tynan?” I asked and noticed his eye twitch slightly as I pronounced his name.

  “Well, I’m glad you asked,” Tynan said as he got up from his throne and walked around the room. “Not that long ago, I was the ruler of an empire – one passed down to me from my father and his father before him. My grandfather founded it, my father expanded it, and it was my job to consolidate it. I was facing increased pressure from the Republic, facing a growing insurgency. By the way, thanks for that, Zavis.” Venom dripped from these last words.

  Tynan, almost impulsively, spun on the spot and strode over to stand in front of Zavis.

  “Do you’ve anything to say to that, Zavis?”

  “No, Your Grace.”

  “I didn’t think so. Which is a shame because your brothers in advisory would’ve loved an apology!”

  Tynan spun and motioned for three men in wheelchairs to be brought into the room. I gasped as they drew nearer and into the light – they were three of Tynan’s former advisors.

  “These three men stayed loyal to me while you turned your back. I had a plan in place for my loyalists, for them to turn to the advisors in the event of the Empire’s collapse, and that’s exactly what they did.” Tynan said as he faced the advisors, his voice low but full of admiration.

  Then, like some invisible force flicking a switch, Tynan spun around to face his captive audience, his voice now loud, aggressive, and brimming with hatred. “Except all they found were dementia-ridden old men because you’d erased their minds!”

  Tynan gathered his composure again. After a few deep breaths he continued, “Thankfully, the loyalists understood why the advisors were in such a condition. General Jake, may he rest in peace, was the one who figured out that a prototype mass conversion device was present on Earth. He stole it from a Republic vault, busted the four advisors out of hospital, and brought them all here, where they reverse-engineered the tech and restored the advisors to their original faculties.”