Aetheral Space

"Have you ever been in here before?" Fei Long asked, as the two of them strode through the cavernous corridors of the Sheshanaga.

Ruth shook her head. "Never." She paused. "It's darker than I expected."

This… honestly wasn't a situation she'd ever expected to find herself in. Walking through the flagship of the Supremacy, alongside Nebula One of the UAP, on her way to meet with the Supreme himself -- who was Dragan of all people. It all felt like some bizarre dream. Perhaps she'd be best off pinching herself to check.

"Where is everyone?" she wondered, looking around. The docking bay had been made ready for their arrival, and the entire time they'd been making their way to the throne room, they hadn't seen another living person.

"They say the Sheshanaga can be operated by a crew of just one," Fei Long mused. "Perhaps that's what's happened here."

Ruth glanced at him, raising an eyebrow behind her Skeletal mask. "You think Dra -- you think the Supreme's acting on his own?"

Fei Long shrugged. "Who can say? The willingness to act independently is almost a prerequisite for the position. My, but you were right. It really is dark in here."

Kneeling, he reached down and scraped a handful of dust from the floor. Then -- with a flash of emerald Aether -- he flicked the dust up into the air. It floated there, shining with brilliant light, serving as a lantern as it drifted after them.

Ruth watched it, intrigued. This was Fei Long's ability, then -- Dragonsbreath. She didn't know for sure what it actually did, but it had been good enough to propel the man to the rank of Nebula One. As far as backup went, she couldn't have better company.

"We're here," Fei Long said grimly.

Ruth came to a sudden halt. Without the lantern, she might have just walked right into the grand black doors before her. Even with it, her face stopped inches from the metal.

Nebula One put his hands on the door, ready to push. He turned to look at her, his gaze unbreaking through his visor.

"Ready?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Good," he chuckled. "Neither am I."

With the strength of his armour and his Aether, Nebula One threw open the doors of the throne room as if they were made of paper. Emerald sparks of Aether lingered in the air for a moment, illuminating the grand chamber beyond…

…and illuminating the smirking face of Dragan Hadrien.

He was splayed out in his throne, both legs up on an armrest as he leaned back in his seat. As Ruth and Fei Long stepped inside, the doors slid shut behind them. Dragan's lips parted into a grin.

"I've gotta say," he watched them approach. "I thought I was pretty up-to-date on the political scene, but I didn't hear that the Central Governing Council is only two people now."

"Before you speak with anyone else," Fei Long said, stopping before the throne. "You're going to speak with us. We're not stupid enough to just hand you hostages for free."

"You're not?" Dragan rested his cheek against his shoulder. "Aw, that's too bad."

Ruth narrowed her eyes.

Dragan's blue eyes flicked over to look at her. "What is it, Ruth?" he asked.

Ruth's eyes narrowed further.

"Who are you?" she said.

Taking stock. That was what Pierrot should be doing right now. Taking stock of the situation. The pieces he had access to right now. You couldn't play without pieces. Before anything else, he had to determine his position.

The panic room -- sealed off from the rest of the building, walls and floor and ceiling reinforced to withstand an orbital bombardment. Connected to the communications hub, able to reach the outside world through it. Orders could be relayed and reports received. As far as playing spaces went, Pierrot couldn't do much better. He'd remain here for the time being.

Then, the people.

The Landgrave and his Nebula Six -- Beckett del Brainen, his illegitimate child. Nebula Six made a show of insubordination, but his desperate loyalty was undeniable. If he determined there was a threat to his father, he would act without hesitation.

So long as Pierrot could control the Landgrave, he could control the Nebula. That wouldn't be difficult. Karl respected strength and experience: if Pierrot proved he had those, then the Landgrave would listen to his advice. A Nebula was not a piece to be scoffed at. Good, good.

Then there was Albert. An even better piece -- one fully devoted to Pierrot's mission, as confirmed by the Prince's trust. Unlike the Landgrave, Pierrot wouldn't need to manipulate Albert to have him do as he said. All he needed was to give the word, and he could make use of the Prime Minister's resources however he needed.

Then, the new Nebula -- Sir Ethel Faust, the Banneret of the Lesser Chain. Sir Ethel Faust was staring at Pierrot. Going off second-hand accounts, his strength was considerable. Pierrot could make good use of him as a bodyguard, or perhaps dispatch him to secure Muzazi's safety.

The Widow, too, and Vantablack Squad. They were on their way. Once they were in the building, he could send them out to carry out all sorts of clandestine tasks while this crisis was going on. He had options, many options.

If he took a deep breath, and calmed himself, he could still reach out and play this game like always. Nothing had changed. This was the same as it had ever been.

So why did it feel so damn different?!

Peace and joy for all mankind.

His compass, at least, remained unchanged.

In one corner of the room, the Landgrave was conferring with his armed forces, preparing their response in the event that the Sheshanaga attacked. In the other, the Lesser Chain team conferred. Sir Ethel Faust was staring at Pierrot. Albert was listening to his communicator, frowning, no doubt receiving more bad news from his people on the ground.

Albert glanced up at him, his gaze distant. "Jaime," he said vaguely. "I… I'm sorry."

What?

Pierrot took a step forward, his mouth curiously dry. "What is it?"

Albert Raise, Prime Minister of the Lesser Chain and Right Honourable Crown Mayor of Tinnington, did not reply.

But his Nebula did, and he did so simply.

He just raised a hand in Pierrot's direction and spoke two words.

"Gemini Railgun."

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Who the hell are you?"

Ruth's mouth asked the question again, but her mind already knew the answer. Who else could this be? Her glare intensified -- and, in response, the person in the throne grinned wider.

The hologram flickered away from his form, and North stretched in the great seat like a cat.

"Aw, Ruth… didn'cha miss me?"

A new sound came in over her headset -- a low warbling alarm -- but Ruth almost didn't hear it over the pounding in her head. What was this? What was North up to? Why was he pretending to be Dragan for this -- and if he was, where was…

…where was…

Oh. He'd done it again.

"The Seat of Man is under attack," Fei Long growled, aghast, already turning on his heel. "We need to get back there -- now!"

North straightened up in his throne, his grin fading, his eyes cold. "You really think I'll just let you walk out like that?"

No doubt he was about to deploy a hologram, one of his special attacks designed to immobilize the enemy. That cathedral of his from Azum-Ha, maybe. Nebula One might have been strong, but as long as he had the senses of a human, Ruth suspected he'd still be vulnerable to that kind of mental attack.

Like hell she was about to let that happen.

She darted between Fei Long and North, crimson Aether surging around her, infusing the space and holding North's ability back. Behind the lenses of her mask, Ruth's eyes were narrowed into golden slits. This had been a long time coming.

"You go," she said to Fei Long. "I have unfinished business with this asshole."

"Appreciated," Nebula One gave a curt nod -- and in a moment of blazing flame, he was gone, leaving a trail scorched in the floor behind him.

North followed the burning path with his eyes, clicking his tongue. Almost casually, he hopped off of the throne, landing on the floor with a thump. Yes, there was sound -- so he was definitely actually there, or at least somebody was there. Going up against North, you could never be sure what you were seeing was real.

"Shame," he said. "I was hoping to keep Mr. One locked down for as long as I could. You're a real party-pooper, huh, Ruth?"

"What's going on?" Ruth demanded, her claws glinting in the light, pacing back and forth like a caged animal as she glared at her adversary. "You and Dragan… what are you up to?"

"What?" North laughed. "You thought we'd be done once we get, ah," he jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the throne. "The big chair? You thought that was all we were after? Aw, you're gonna make me sad, Ruth. We got big ambitions, big dreams -- we're dreamers, me and the boss."

"Dreaming of starting a war?"

"Stepping stones and stepping stones," North grinned. "If it comes down to it, that's too bad so sad, but we ain't aiming for a war here -- not really. This is more of a, uh…"

He rubbed his chin for a moment -- before raising his eyebrows, a dangerously bright look in his eyes.

"...a robbery, yeah?"

Ruth had heard enough of this bullshit. North was long overdue for an asskicking. Scarlet Aether exploded around her as she charged forward, weaving her armour from nothingness.

Empereur Set!

North, for his part, spread his arms wide -- and an array of white spikes floated out from behind his back, positioning themselves radially around him. Translucent Aether danced near-imperceptibly.

"Nightmare Underground: Cathedral at the World's End."

"I have to say," the attacker smiled, standing amidst the devastation. "You really do deserve the title of a Nebula. Well done."

The panic room was a scene of destruction. It had been designed to withstand attacks from the outside… not from within. The person who'd unleashed the assault stood in the midst of shattered steel and broken concrete, helmet thrown onto the ground and silver hair flowing in the air. Albert Raise lurked shamefully behind him… but not an eye was on that traitor right now.

Every eye was on the man who'd revealed himself.

Dragan Hadrien. The Supreme himself. With a wave of his hand, he'd destroyed half the room… but only half.

After all, Dragan Hadrien's Gemini Railgun had not met its mark.

The instant he'd fired it, Beckett del Brainen -- Nebula Six -- had reacted. Before he'd even seen the attack, the Nebula had moved to block it -- sprouting great petals of bone from his back to stretch across the room and act as shields. They hung in the air, still dripping with his blood and still smoking from the shots, trembling from the sheer impact they'd been forced to absorb.

Nebula Six himself slowly rose up from one knee, his golden eyes keen and fixed on Dragan.

"Looks like you're kind of a fraud, huh?" Beckett grinned humourlessly. "Isn't the Supreme supposed to be the strongest around? I could block a dozen attacks like that in my sleep."

"That looked like an attack to you?" the Supreme cocked his head, still smiling.

"Don't bullshit. You're going after the military leaders, right? That's why you're trying to kill the Landgrave."

Only… did that really make sense? The shot had been aimed for that Pierrot fart, not the old bastard. What was going on here? Beckett stuffed the question away in his head -- it didn't matter right now. The enemy was before him, and that was that. Best to play the cocky asshole in a situation like this.

How many more shots like that could he block with his petals? Two, maybe three, before the backlash on his own skeleton became too agonizing to continue. He'd need time to form separate shields to tank the damage. Time he didn't have.

Right now… buying time was his job. Other Nebulas would be on their way. If he could hold the line, just for a little while, they could take this son of a bitch on together. Surely, the Supreme knew that too…

…and yet he was still smiling.

"That wasn't an attack," he said, almost gently. "That was the starting pistol. You see, my Gemini Dominion seals off my Gemini Railgun…"

Blue Aether sparked.

"...so once I use Railgun…"

Blue Aether rushed.

"...everything I've got stored up in Dominion gets spat right out."

Blue Aether burst -- and in an instant, the room was full.

Aether of every colour. Weapons of every shape. An entire army flowed out of Hadrien's back in less time than it took to blink. Like a wild hunt, they rushed at Beckett, already unleashing their attacks.

Ah, shit.

They'd been ready for this. They'd been waiting for this -- waiting for their master to smuggle them behind enemy lines, to unleash this attack at the UAP's most vulnerable point, to reach into the galaxy with his own two hands and twist. These weren't just common soldiers, either. Beckett recognised these faces.

These were the faces of the Tree of Might.

The room exploded into chaos.

Pierrot dragged himself back across the floor, but he already knew it would be to no avail. He'd been hit in the crossfire of the Tree of Might's arrival, and as he crawled he was already leaving a slick red trail. Even if he was uninjured, though, he suspected it wouldn't matter.

After all… the Supreme was walking calmly after him, almost casually, like a cat approaching a mouse.

This was bad. He had no intelligence, no preparations, no plans… and it seemed the enemy had all those things in excess.

Pierrot's back thumped against the wall. In all of the chaos, he'd managed to get out into the corridor, at least -- and so if he turned his head to the window he could see the emerald line Fei Long was making as he came back towards the Seat of Man. With the Tree of Might attacking, he'd surely be delayed, but could Pierrot possibly hold the line until Nebula One arrived?

"Forget it," said Dragan Hadrien. "We've prepared for him, too."

Pierrot chuckled bitterly. "I see. So… what is it, then? You're here to kill me?"

"In a way."

Pierrot looked up, and Dragan looked down. The Supreme extended a hand. Pierrot's heart sunk as far as it could go.

"The Prince…" Dragan Hadrien hissed. "...hand it over."