Hounds of Orion

17



Logan took his time walking back to the royal chambers. He needed time to think, to plan. There were so many variables to this. So many things that could go wrong. He only hoped that the people he needed would do their part. His footsteps stopped their hollow ringing on the metal grating that lead down into the basement where the kid was being kept, transferring to a low echo as he transitioned to the alabaster stone floor of the palace proper.

“It’ll work.” He said to himself, passing by a pair of servants who were busy cleaning the halls. They stopped and stood, giving him a proper greeting which he reciprocated with a hasty wave.

He knew he wasn’t just doing this out of the kindness of his heart. Sure, that pudgy little fuck, Lendrick had framed Cameron, and sure, Augustus would never win father of the year, but he was getting something out of this too. Something he had been wanting to do for the past three years. Something that he couldn’t do with the caliber of alpha class pilots running around nowadays. But with Cameron, it was different. He was fresh, excitable… trainable. If Logan played his cards right, he could turn the kid into a powerful and deadly asset. And a profitable one at that. All he needed to do, was get him out.

He turned the last corner leading towards the royal chambers, where his ears picked up the unmistakable sound of an argument going on behind its closed doors. There were two guards posted outside, rail-rifles in hand, armor shining with the early morning sun the came in through a series of open air slats cut open in the rock. He stopped, taking a minute to gather himself. Looking down at his hands, he could see a slight tremble near his fingertips and for once, he wasn’t sure if it was because of the withdrawals, or just nerves concerning what he was about to do. He hated politics with a passion. A bunch of stuffy, pretentious assholes who spent their lives tip-toeing around their words, and attending parties with people who they hated, while sending people like him off to fight and die in the battles that actually mattered.

‘You can do this… You have to,’ He thought, readying himself for the fallout of what these next few minutes would bring. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, feeling that same sense of calm he did before a drop. It was just another day at the office. His thoughts clear, and emotions calm, he marched his way towards the guards, determination clear in his authoritative bark.

“Open it.”

***

The argument that had been raging only a moment before had come to an abrupt stop as Logan stepped through the threshold and surveyed the scene before him. It was a large, office-like room, circular in structure and opulently decorated. A large desk made from a dark wood drew the eye, filling its role as the room’s centerpiece. Logan breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Miranda sitting behind it, a small yet ornate silver crown trimmed with sapphires perched atop her head. His relief faded as he got a look at her facial features, however. Her face was oily and swollen, likely a credit to an emotional and sleepless night. Thin lines of mascara were still present on her cheeks. The aftermath of the tears that came from her now sunken and bloodshot eyes. Her hair looked like it had been done in a hurry, with black strands peeking out from behind the crown.

She looked haggard… aged. This wasn’t the same woman he had known from his days in the guard. It wasn’t even the same woman he had met three days ago, before all of this tragedy. But she just might be the woman he needed.

“I see congratulations are in order.” He said, putting on his best attempt at a smile as he closed the door behind him, entering the room fully. She returned his smiled with a forced one of her own, a silent conversation of understanding and sympathy unfolding as Logan walked till he was a few feet in front of her, where he gave a low, respectful bow.

“Long live Queen Miranda Pellyn.”

A soft chuckle left her lips, as she gave a curt nod, though her smiled refused to raise beyond its barely noticeable lift.

“Thank you Logan. Though we missed you at the ceremony.”

“That, you did. I thought it wasn’t happening until noon.”

Her smile faltered slightly as she cleared her throat. “Y-Yes well, it was a last-minute change due to… recent events.”

“We would have told you, but you seemed to have disappeared Mr. Rake.” Lendrick’s voice off to his left drew his gaze where Logan saw the diplomat and Augustus sitting in two cushioned leather chairs, bodies rigid, and expressions far from friendly. A quick glance to his right and he saw Sybil and Marcus sharing the opposite side of the room. Sybil, face passive and neutral, was busy pouring herself a drink from the rooms liquor cabinet, while Marcus stood near the back wall, hands behind his back and looking forward, trying to mimic the earthlings unassuming look, but failing to keep what could be frustration or anger from showing on his face as he fought to keep his lips from deforming into a disgusted scowl.

‘Good’ Logan thought. Maybe there was more than just one person on his side in here. He turned back to Lendrick, aware that the man expected a proper response.

“I was caught up in something important.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “And I don’t really believe you were looking all that hard for me now, were you?”

Lendrick returned the gesture, contempt and arrogance dripping off every word of his reply. “I’m not your keeper Mr. Rake. It’s not my fault you supposedly found something more important to do than be here for the Queens ascension. Though I will say, it’s not a good look for a supposed ‘guest of honor’.”

Lendrick gave a smirk and Logan had to fight hard to keep from bouncing the ambassadors head off of the desk. The only thing that kept him calm was the promise of his reaction, should his plan work.

“Just what exactly were you up too, if you don’t mind my asking?” Augustus chimed in, grabbing Logan’s attention. It was as good an opportunity as any to put his plan in to action, though he didn’t jump on it right away. Instead, he walked over to the liquor cabinet passing by Sybil, acutely aware the way she cut her eyes in his direction. He grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink answering as he did so.

“I was speaking with your son Augustus.”

A sharp intake of breath seemed to suck the calm from the room, replacing it with a heavy cloud of tense unease.

“Why?!” Augustus bellowed, all sense of decorum and decency forgotten in his fury.

Logan kept his cool, taking a swig from his glass of whiskey, before leaning against the, wall eyeing the two mean across the room sharing a look of shock and anger.

“Because someone needed to talk to him Augustus. Someone needed to hear his side of the story instead of just siccing the guard on him and carting him away.”

“You had no right-”

“I had every right.” Logan snapped back with a growl. “I know it’s hard to look for the truth with a boot in your mouth but the fact you’d outright believe this asshole is absurd.”

“You are out of line Rake!” Lendrick got to his feet, his face flushed red as he came to the former kings defense. “The boy had the knife in his hand, he was passed out over the body. You had best watch your tongue going forward, tourist.”

Logan blinked, his anger beginning to surge. “What the hell did you just call me?”

Lendrick scoffed, feeling confident with an audience. “Shall I say it slower for the imbecile? Tour-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish, Logan had seen to that. In the time it took him to speak the offense, Logan had shot off the wall, enhanced bone density from his threading implants causing his foot to crack the stone. He had crossed the length of the room in the blink of an eye, grabbing Lendrick by the neck, and pinned him to the wall, looking him in the eye as he squeezed his throat.

“Agh… Let. Go!” The dignitary strained to get out through gritted teeth, clawing at Logan’s grip trying to free himself. His eyes started to bulge, while his red face began to take on a shade of blue.

Logan raised him higher off the ground, unflinching even as the man kicked his dangling feet out in a fruitless attempt as an escape. He could hear the screams of the others, feel Augustus’ hand trying to pry his hand off of Lendrick. All of this, Logan ignored. Instead, he leaned in, whispering into Lendrick’s ear.

“Two things Lazarus. First, say that word again, and it will be the last to have the displeasure of gracing your lips. Secondly… I know. Make sure you give Aylim and Prince Caustos my regards.”

He pulled back to look into the man’s eyes. They were still bulging as he struggled to suck in air. But there was something else living behind the look of pain and of survival. Recognition. Logan fought back snarl, and the urge to crush the man’s windpipe. His grip loosened and Lendrick dropped like a stone, sinking to the floor with a thunderous crash. He looked down on the man, feeling a sense of glee rise up through his body. He didn’t even care when he heard the sound of a rail-rifle being primed.

“Step away from Lord Lendrick!” the guard ordered. Logan complied taking a step back, raising his hands up in the air.

“Turn around. NOW!”

Again he obeyed, turning to face the rest of the group. There was a myriad of emotions on display now. Augustus, clearly being the one who had fetched the two from outside looked livid. He was breathing heavily, his face sharing the same color as Lendrick’s before Logan had grabbed him.

Marcus was more in shock than anything. His eyes were wide, and jaw slightly agape, though he still hadn’t moved from his position before. Sybil also hadn’t left her station by the liquor cabinet, though her surprise under layered with what Logan thought looked amusement. She really was an interesting individual.

His eyes cut to Miranda and what he saw, seemed promising. She too shared the look of shock as Marcus, but unlike the servant there was a curiosity that flashed across her face. An uncertainty of why Logan had reacted the way he did. He had hoped that she would voice a question on her own, but when the lead guard started to move to make an arrest and she still had said nothing, he knew he’d have to be the one to open the dialogue. Fine with him. He always did have a love for theatrics. He opened his mouth, speaking his declaration with a conviction that could belong to a man who had nothing to lose.

“I, Logan Rake am invoking the right of forced relinquishment on behalf of Cameron Pellyn, in accordance with the Free Space Pioneering Act of 2175.”


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