Alliance

What does he want from me? Kaytake wondered. He rubbed his swollen wrists bitterly as he tried to get the dry feeling out of his mouth by swallowing.

Looking at his surroundings, he could see that there were no windows. That most likely meant that he was in an underground room of some sort. The air was decently warm, and after a bit of investigation he found vents on the floor that droned quietly as they emitted the hot air.

The fluorescent lights on the ceiling gave off a bright white light that illuminated the sparsely furnished room. There were two couches facing each other, both made out of leather worn by use. The walls were made of solid concrete, broken only by the dark, gaping hole that Kaytake assumed led to the stairs, and the shut door behind him, which Cyrus had disappeared into moments earlier.

He was torn. A part of him wanted to escape through that dark opening as soon as possible and come back with a dozen armed men to seize this fortress. The thought made him smirk slightly. If he captured Cyrus, surely King Garmadon would reward him handsomely.

But the other part of him wanted to wait at least a few minutes to see what Cyrus wanted with him. Five minutes of conversation was all he needed, then he would begin planning an escape.

"Sorry for the wait," Cyrus' voice flowed pleasantly to his ears from the door behind where he sat. "I brought meat, bread, and a little bit of wine."

Kaytake turned his head and watched as Cyrus rolled his wheelchair through the open door, tailed closely by a tall man bearing a tray and a foldable table.

Cyrus navigated his chair to face Kaytake and motioned to the space between him and his captive. "Set it down here," he said.

The man unfolded the small table and set the tray down. He left without another word, shutting the door behind him.

Kaytake looked at the wooden tray skeptically. Cold beef and chicken slices sat next to large rolls and a small goblet of red wine.

"My apologies," Cyrus said as he caught Kaytake's lingering glance on the burgundy cup. "I know that this type of wine does not go well with this scant meal, but I've been a bit low on supplies." A humored glint entered his brown eyes. "You'll understand, of course. Being in hiding has some distinct disadvantages." He gestured to the wine. "But back on my original track, I must admit that this is a part of my last crate. I hope it settles your nerves a little because each drop is precious."

Kaytake nodded cautiously and reached for the meat. "Thank you," he said. "I appreciate it."

"No, I don't think you do," Cyrus argued in a casual tone. "But feel free to eat it all, whether or not you are truly grateful." He sat back in his chair and relaxed, as if telling his prisoner that he intended to stay a while.

Hunger outweighed pride and Kaytake reluctantly took a bite of the chicken. It was tasteless, but he had little room to complain. The bread was warm, though, which indicated that there was an oven somewhere in the stronghold. This was indeed a fully functional fortress designed for long weeks, or perhaps even months, without support from the outside world.

"So," Borg began after several minutes of tense, uneasy silence. "It's a safe bet that you're wondering why on earth I went to such great lengths to bring you here."

Kaytake gave his captor an even, steady glare. "No, I was thinking nothing of the sort." His tone came out harsher than he had intended, but he made no move to correct himself. And why should he, since he was not in the wrong?

Cyrus chuckled. "I had heard from Lord Julien that you had a wicked sense of sarcasm," he said. "I see now that he was not making jest."

"Lord Julien?" Kaytake asked incredulously. "Making jest? No indeed, Borg. He has a worse sense of humor than even his son."

"Ah, yes." Cyrus adjusted his spectacles and chuckled. "His son, the stoic Zane Julien. You know, he's part of the reason I called you here in the first place."

"If you wanted to exchange gossip about my daughter's friend, you should have picked a better clique partner."

Cyrus waved a dismissive hand and sniffed. "Do not misinterpret my words," he said. "You know of Zane and Pixal's origins, I assume?"

Kaytake nodded impatiently. "Yes."

"Good. That will save us both some time." The handicapped man reached for a piece of bread. "My, my. This is making me hungry. Mind if I dine with you?"

"It's your food."

Cyrus bit into the steaming roll and chewed slowly. "So short with your answers," he observed. "Which is good, when you are facing a casual group of people you don't like to speak to." He met Kaytake's gaze and leveled it. "But as a lord and important dignitary, you must have an eloquent and patient manner in order to succeed." He leaned forward and indulged in another bite of the roll. "Even if you absolutely despise the man you are speaking to."

"You are saying that you despise me?"

"Heavens, no, m'lord." Cyrus assured him. "I am merely teaching you how to conduct yourself in public. It's a miracle you've made it this far in life without getting assassinated. I sense that your candid, somewhat pert manner has left you with very few friends and allies."

"Few indeed, but they are all very loyal," The Southern nobleman replied. "Will you get to the point of this meeting? I can and will have you executed if you have nothing of consequence to say to me."

Cyrus laughed lightly. "You are in no position to be handing out idle threats," he said. "But I admire your spunk."

Kaytake held back a wince as he continued eating. He's treating me like a child, he thought bitterly. He is politely reprimanding every aspect of my behavior. He's even eating all prim-like.

"Do you have anything to say, or should I just prattle on like an old man until the sun sets?" Cyrus asked with a pleasant sparkle in his eyes. "Shall I get us back on topic? I was about to begin a Nindroid discussion."

Kaytake sighed and sat back in his seat. "Fire away," he said. "Being kidnapped and all, I suppose that I have no say in the matter."

Cyrus lifted a thin black brow. "You're not going to challenge my authority?" He asked.

"You're saying that you want a fight?" Kaytake snapped. "Because we both know who would win at hand-to-hand combat."

"Do not doubt my ability to defend myself," Cyrus said in a firm, mildly condescending tone. "There's more about me than frail bones and paralysis, you know."

"Paralysis?"

"Yes, indeed." Cyrus tapped his left leg with a finger. "This old thing hasn't worked since that unfortunate accident many years ago."

Kaytake grunted. "Sorry to hear it."

"No, I don't think you are." Cyrus retorted. "Come now, my lord. We are both men of power and consequence. You don't need to treat me with such contempt."

"I don't?" Kaytake raised his voice and pointed with an accusing finger. "I have every reason to treat you with contempt. You stole me away from my home in the middle of a very critical time. With Nya trying to rescue Kai, Zane, and Pixal on the Dark Island, and-" He cut himself off and inhaled sharply.

Cyrus smiled congenially. "Thank you for that tidbit," he said. "But in all honesty, I truly do sympathize. Managing a war with the Dark Island must be hard enough without the added burden of..." He trailed off a moment, looking thoughtful as he held up a finger and began to count each point, one at a time. "An internal war, a kidnapped son, a daughter who has gone after him, and a new baby- congratulations, by the way-"

"How did you know that?" Kaytake interrupted without thought, once again regretting his words.

Cyrus' smile grew wider. "Again, I must thank you. I was not entirely sure on that one until you confirmed it with that shocked expression." He sighed lightly and shook his head. "I know many things, m'lord. But you interrupted me. As I was saying, your wife finally conquered her infertility issues," he threw his arms open wide. "The entire country is in pandemonium, and you are stuck here, at the mercy of me, a weak old man in a wheelchair."

Blood flowed through Kaytake's pounding heart with a passionate hate. No one was supposed to know half the things Cyrus had just declared. Yes, people knew that Kai and Zane had been captured by the great Sir Cole. There were rumors about Pixal being captured as well, and Nya...

He had no idea what was going on with his daughter. He had departed from the estate before the trio had finished preparing for their journey in Nya's mech. He hoped that the commoners did not suspect anything, although even the smallest rumor or suspicion could cause terrible problems politically.

"But," Cyrus continued as if unaware of Kaytake's inner turmoil and rage. He set his hands back on his lap. "I have a plan that could change everything for you." His smile stayed steady, warm, and unnervingly pleasant.

A chill ran down Kaytake's spine as he stared at that smile. It was so innocent and friendly. The nobleman found himself wondering how many other secrets that smile would pry out of him. "What would this plan be?" He asked cautiously.

Cyrus took the tiny wine goblet and twirled it between his fingers. "I know that you enjoy drink, my lord," he said. "What, are you afraid that I might have poisoned it?" He tipped the glass and took a generous mouthful before setting it back on the tray. "I assure you, it's perfectly safe. And quite good, too. Not the best burgundy I've ever tasted, but it's good."

Kaytake ground his teeth impatiently. "What plan?" He nearly snarled.

Cyrus whistled and gestured to the glass. "Take a drink, calm yourself. I'm getting there."

Seeing that his captor would not be moved, Kaytake picked up the cup and took a hesitant sip. It was, he would admit, an excellent batch. Sort of bitter, but a hint of sweetness kept the tastebuds guessing.

"Feel better?" Cyrus asked. "Good, because I need you calm for our discussion. I won't work with a man who's temperament is comparable to a dragon."

No, he did not feel better. But he forced himself to sit back and wait for Cyrus to continue.

"Not to worry," the spectacled man began finally. "After we are finished talking, I will send you straight home to prepare for the coming war. Whether you say yes or no, I promise a safe passage."

He brought me here for a conversation? Kaytake thought to himself. No wonder he was so upset when he found out how I had been treated. He knew that I'd be more unfriendly after such an ordeal. "Fair enough." He grunted.

"Good," Borg said. "I shall begin, then. As you already know, the country is in pandemonium. Would you happen to know why?"

Unable to come up with an alternative answer, Kaytake grudgingly obliged his captor. "Yes." He said. "You've been stirring up trouble."

"You just reworded my question," Cyrus said. "But how I've managed to stir up trouble is business of little consequence. What matters is that I need your help."

Kaytake nearly dropped his glass. "You?" He asked. A strong temptation to laugh came to him, but he resisted. "My help? What makes you think that I'd ever willingly help you?"

Cyrus shrugged. "Persuasion," he answered. "That's what I usually do, anyways."

Kaytake set down the half full glass of wine and stared down his captor. "You are a fool," he said in a low tone. "A fool indeed, to think that I would ever help you."

Cyrus laughed. "You are indeed all hot air," he said. "This is good. I consider persuading hotheads my forte, if I may be so bold."

"You may not."

"Oh, don't be like that," Cyrus wheeled his chair closer and studied Kaytake's face. "This will be so much fun for both of us, m'lord. Taming the great man of the South will be a feat indeed."

Kaytake snorted and threw his hands into the air, as if in surrender. "Do your worst, I dare you."

"Fine," Cyrus said without waiting for a pause. "Then allow me to elaborate on why I need you. I need you because your temperament is just what this country needs for a leader."

Kaytake put his hands down and stared at the man as if he had been struck dumb. He fumbled for a moment before finding his voice and replying cautiously. "New?" He asked. "Are you... Unsatisfied with the Garmadon dynasty?"

"Obviously," Cyrus replied. "Or else I wouldn't be trying to rebel."

"And...you want me," he pointed to himself. "To start a new one?"

"A new dynasty?" Cyrus asked. "No, of course not. I want to tear down this old system and build up a new one of my own design. But you misunderstand me. I don't want you to be my new political leader, but my leader in war affairs." He tapped his right foot on the floor to a steady beat in his head. "You are an intelligent man, and I would love to have you by my side as I break apart our world and reshape it into a new order."

"What kind of new order?" Kaytake asked. "What's wrong with the one we have?"

Cyrus sat back again. "Picture this," he said. "Three different states, all independently ruled and governed by the people."

"Wouldn't that make these three states separate countries?"

"No," Cyrus replied. "The three states would be united by a flexible, invisible bond that would keep us strong during times of war," he paused for a few seconds to let this sink in. "Such as we are now."

Kaytake nodded slowly as the words took shape and meaning. "So you want me to help you overthrow our current government and get our internal affairs in order before we launch an attack against the former Western island of Keitorin?"

"More commonly known today as the Dark Island," Cyrus filled in. "Yes, exactly."

"One small flaw in this plan," the Southern lord lifted a finger. "War and dispute amongst our own soldiers will weaken us significantly. Our chances of winning this battle with the Overlord will drastically decrease."

Cyrus nodded. "You are smart," he said. "A little hasty, but very smart. We will get along well." He gestured to the closed door. "Fighting this revolution with men would be detrimental to our ranks, you are correct."

"'Would'?" Kaytake prodded. "Don't you mean 'will'?"

"No," Cyrus replied. "I used the verb 'would' because I do not plan to use men for my militia."

"Then what will you use?"

Cyrus smiled congenially. "You heard from Lord Julien that I stole several blueprints, didn't you?"

Did he? Kaytake tried to remember what had taken place during that meeting nearly a week earlier. "Yes," he said eventually. "Yes, I do remember that. What of it?"

Cyrus backed up his chair and motioned for Kaytake to stand. "Come," he said excitedly. "Oh, do come quickly. I must show you."

The Southern lord got to his feet, fighting to keep the curiosity from showing on his face as he followed

Cyrus through the door and down a corridor. Everything, Kaytake realized, is made of concrete. The walls, floors, even some of the furniture. Fluorescent lights were installed in the ceiling, giving off a cold white light.

And there are no guards, either. His eyes wandered up and down the hallway. No other people, for that matter.

"Through here," Cyrus said. "Follow me, m'lord." He opened a door on his left and shoved it wide.

Kaytake followed his captor through the door and leapt backwards at the sight of Zane staring back at him from where he sat at a table in the center of the room.

Tall, blond, and with brilliant blue eyes, the Nindroid smiled pleasantly as he got to his feet and strode toward Cyrus. "Greetings, sir." He said in a monotone voice. "I trust that your meeting with Kaytake was copacetic?"

"Yes, very much so," Cyrus replied. He looked at his captive, still smiling. "Kaytake, meet Nindroid 0003."

Kaytake looked the Nindroid over. "So you've been creating an army of clones to help with your war?"

"Yes," Cyrus said. "Unfortunately, the manufacturing process has been tedious. I've only made six since I stole the blueprints, and this one is the first that I ever made on my own."

"But his name is 0003," Kaytake argued as he shook the Nindroid's strong hand. "That means that there are two older ones?"

"Indeed," the Nindroid replied. "My master graciously informed us that the original Zane and Pixal came before us, being 0001 and 0002."

"You've seen what those two original androids can do, m'lord?" Cyrus asked.

"Yes," Kaytake replied. "Night vision, incredible strength, lasers, and a multitude of other things."

Cyrus patted his Nindroid's arm in a friendly manner. "I have altered Lord Julien's original design, so these androids will have nearly twice the strength and agility." He sighed sadly. "The downside is that, in order to make room for the enhanced physical traits, I had to let go of a few other things.

"Like what?" Kaytake prompted.

"Emotions, for one thing," Cyrus explained. "These Nindroids do not process emotions and human interactions as well as Zane and Pixal." He waved his hand, sending the Nindroid 0003 back to the table. "They also have less intelligence."

Kaytake watched the Nindroid with curiosity as it wrote with a pencil and paper. Cyrus probably told him to do that, he thought. To keep him out of trouble. I wonder what he's writing...

"So, what do you think?" Borg asked after a moment of silence. "Kaytake, would you be willing to help me win this war? Now remember, I will allow you to go home whether you say yes or no. So you shouldn't have too much pressure."

The nobleman hesitated. What were his reservations? This new world order seemed like just what the people needed. Something where the people were in charge of the government? It almost sounded too good to be true. "The problem would be that the freedom could be used against the people," he said out loud. "As a tool to bind them up tighter. Using the word'freedom' as a shield for the government, making the people think that they are in control when in reality they are listening to a tyrant in disguise. It sounds like it could be worse than the system we have now."

"You are correct," Cyrus said. "But I promise that if you agree to assist me, I will go through all the details of my government with you, and we can work together to eliminate those loopholes."

Again, the Southern lord paused before answering. Why was he even considering such an outlandish notion? If he agreed to this, he would lose his power. He would be forcing his family into an average home where they would have no more power than the rest of the people.

Or, maybe not. After all, he had not heard the details of this order that Cyrus was planning. This could be a very good system indeed, if he gave it a chance.

Cyrus looked into Kaytake's eyes and asked again patiently. "Will you join me, my lord?"