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Chapter 24

Quirk opened the hideout door cautiously and froze. Perched upon his chair was the turquoise form of P3T3R.

"Bad news," the protoroo said. "The Emperor has taken your friend, the one you call Toast."

"We know," Quirk said testily. "But the Emperor is out for our blood now, and I don't know if we can get him back without losing anyone else. Hell, we don't even know where Toast is being held!"

"I do," P3T3R said. "But there isn't much time. He is in Warehouse 6. Go there soon, or it will be too late."

"I don't trust you," Quirk snapped. "If this is a trap, I'll melt your head off."

"It is a trap," P3T3R confirmed. "But not one of mine. But if you think you can save him, you must try! Quickly!"

So saying, he coiled, sprang clean over Quirk's head and bounded out of the room.

* * *

They found Toast five minutes later.

Xerian stared, hands covering his mouth in shock as he took in the makeshift gallows. His expression was one of sheer horror, tear icons forming on his visor. "Oh..." he sobbed. "No... Oh, spirits... May he find peace..."

"This Emperor is one sick bastard," Niall said, looking at the body of their comrade, his headwings fanning out. Toast hung there, gently swaying in the air currents from the ship's environmental systems. His visor was blank and he was wearing what appeared to be a French maid costume fashioned from PVC.

"I mean, great gods," the robotic incubus continued. "Even Johan Cross didn't do that. He killed people outright, or banished them and faked their deaths. But he didn't strip people of their dignity like this..."

Solemnly, Eris walked forward to where a placard stood on a pedestal.

"'As they are now, soon will you be,'" she quoted, appalled.

"...And your little dog too," Lautrec added bitterly.

"Maybe there's still time..." Quirk said. He took out his sniper rifle and aimed at the rope. Just then a shot rang out and punched through his arm. The protogen screamed in pain and the rifle fell from his now-useless limb.

Xerian turned around with his hands already raised to see Lord Cyra striding into the room behind them, backed by half a dozen armed guards. Two servitor robots went past them, bearing a large, golden throne which they set in view of the makeshift gallows. The cargo doors closed shut behind the robots as they left.

"Ah, so good to see you all!" The Emperor said jovially. "You know, the last two times I've held an audience in my throne room, things have gone horribly wrong. So I'm going to hold it here instead."

"So, what's the plan now?" Xerian asked, raising his arms.

"Well, I did have hopes for reconciliation," the Emperor sighed. "But after the last time... Ah well. Deconciliation it is, I guess. Such a waste..."

"I'd ask what that means, but I think Toast already found out," Xerian said, looking at the floor.

"Indeed he did," the Emperor said. "The placard should have made things clear. At least, I hoped it would. But nobody ever reads things these days, do they...? Ah well... Something to remember for next time!"

"If we're going to die anyway, we could go down fighting," Quirk said. "What's to stop us from taking you with us...?"

"Well, you have a broken arm," the Emperor retorted. "But, if you do resist... I shall destroy the major cities on this planet," he smiled, eyes narrowing evilly. "The choice is yours - submit to your fates and you shall die quickly. Otherwise you'll die slowly - after having first watched millions of people get evaporated. Any questions...?"

There was silence.

"Excellent!" The Emperor said, clapping his rubber-gloved hands together happily. "Lieutenant! Find a suitable dress for the lizard lady. She will be next. And don't be too quick to fetch it... I'm sure they'll want some time to say goodbye."

"At once," the protogen said and scampered out of the warehouse.

"Finally!" the Emperor purred to himself happily. "At long last, things are finally getting back on track!"

So saying, he sat down heavily upon his throne. Which suddenly exploded.

Quirk, Niall and Xerian were knocked off their feet by the shockwave. Eris and Lautrec had been closer to the throne and the blast smashed them into the wall with horrifying force, along with two of the officers. The others were scattered like bowling pins, while above them, Toast's corpse was spinning limply over their heads, his body swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The Emperor himself had been scattered over a wide area.

Dazed and injured, the surviving officers fled the room in a panic, ignoring the group completely. Niall gathered up Lautrec and made his way to where Eris was lying.

"Oh," he said, looking at the fallen lizard, her clothing torn and burnt. "Oh shit."

Eris stirred, eyes half open. "Uh..." she said, blood dripping from her nostrils. "Xerian... If you can... Tell them that..." she gave a sigh and slumped over, eyes glazing.

"No...!" Lautrec keened. "Lizard lady! You can't die! No... NO...!"

"I'm sorry," Niall said quietly, checking her vital signs. "I think she's gone. There's nothing more I can do for her." He knelt and gently closed her eyes. Xerian crouched on the ground, sobbing.

Behind him there was a thump as Toast was lowered to the ground. Xerian glanced at what Quirk was doing and his eyes narrowed in disgust.

"You ghoul," he wept, staring the floor while Quirk robbed the deceased protogen, plundering one of his arms. "This was all your doing, wasn't it?! You've k-killed a police detective, you've k-killed the Emperor himself, and now you're c-cannibalising poor Toast of his arms!"

"The robots will be here soon," Quirk replied, flexing his stolen limb with a look of concentration. "We will leave Toast and Eris here for them, and pray that the healing suites can still do something for them.
"I'll give Toast my broken arm. If he makes it, that arm will be repaired or replaced. If he doesn't... well, organ donation is a thing. Try not to judge me by your own cultural mores, Xerian. We are different races, after all, and we are in a tight situation."

"I guess that's true," Xerian admitted bitterly. "And while I hate what you've done, protesting about it won't bring him back. So yes, I guess that right now, you need it more than he does."

"What about the Emperor...?" Niall asked. "Eris and Toast being revived would be good, if that's possible. The Emperor... I'm less fussed about him, unless his absence causes the ship to explode."

"I'm not sure the robots will even recognise him as a corpse," Quirk said. "Maybe I planted too many mines. Either way, we need to get out of here fast."

"Indeed," Niall said, gathering up Lautrec and heading for the exit. "You may have killed the Emperor, but in doing so you have stirred up a real wasp's nest."

"Bad analogy," Quirk retorted. "Wasps all die without their queen, don't they?"

"Eventually," Niall agreed. "But they can royally mess you up before that happens. And I suspect his underlings intend to do exactly that, if the ship doesn't self-destruct first."

"Where are we going?" Lautrec asked worriedly.

"Let's try the hideout first," Quirk suggested. The group turned a corner and took one of the elevators.

Shortly afterwards, Lieutenant Sorg returned, bearing a shiny black party dress, fresh from one of the replicators.
As he approached the warehouse entrance, a convoy of servitor robots emerged, carrying a number of corpses between them. He dropped the garment with a cry of dismay and hit the nearest panic button.

* * *

"Not good," Quirk said, taking point and seeing a number of heavily-armed protogens loitering near the entrance to his hideout.

"As I feared, it looks like they're hunting us down," he said. "And I'll need to recharge my rifle soon."

"Could we use the teleporter?" Xerian asked sadly. "Oram had it pretty much working, I think. If it's still set up, we could drop Lautrec and Rexx's stasis pod off on the planet.
"Then we can make one last try to find Zuki and flee, with Toast and Eris if possible - alive or d-dead. If the ship does destroy itself, then... That would be terrible, but at least the Emperor's threat would be ended.
"If it doesn't, we can tell the authorities and try to rescue as many people as we can while the ship is still in a state of confusion."

"I owe you that," Quirk admitted. "I've dragged you into my war on the Emperor against your will, and I've achieved what I set out to do. While he should be gone for good this time, we've paid a high price for that - three of us killed, and your cat crippled. And that's all because of me. I will help you as best I can."

"Thank you," Xerian said gratefully.

* * *

The officer turned and a look of shock filled his face. Then a hole formed in his visor and he crumpled, the assault rifle tumbling from his grasp. The other tried to flee and received a shot in the neck, killing him almost instantly.

Xerian sobbed as Quirk stood there, a demented grin on his face. "Ro-bots!" he yelled, "Here, robots! Tasty corpses for youuu!"

"Stop it!" Xerian squawked, hands balled into fists of frustration.

"Too soon, Quirk!" Lautrec complained. "Remember, my boss isn't used to this! He's not used to death at all and now we're three down!"

"True," Quirk said, sobering up. "I apologise. Meanwhile, we need a set up a barricade.
"I've locked the bulkhead doors for now, and I'm going to try and break into the monitor system. If I can find the surgery machines Eris and Toast are in I can put Lautrec there so he can watch."

"And listen out for the prognosis?" the cyberjag asked.

"That's the idea," Quirk said. "Niall and Xerian can help me move some of the crates in the store cupboard to set up a barrier."

"Well, I'm not good for much else," Lautrec sighed, "Even if my limbs were working. It's hard to push things around on all fours."