Foreword:
Oh my goodness, this chapter is SOOOO late! DX I'm really sorry, everyone... These past few weeks have been so crazy-busy that I've barely even had time to think about this story. Plus, the entire construct for the climax I had planned out went through several big adjustments that forced me to change the pattern I had in mind for writing the end chapters, which slowed down the process even more. _ In fact, this chapter was supposed to go on a bit longer and contain one more important scene, but I felt like I'd delayed it long enough and better post what I have before all my readers forget about me. So I apologize if you feel shortchanged by the relatively short length of this chapter considering how long you had to wait for it. T-T But the good news is that the busier I get, the more I gradually learn to manage my time better so that I accomplish more. I don't know how long the next chapter will take, but I'm making it one of my personal goals to finish it faster than this chapter. Even so, I've pretty much accepted by now that my dream of wrapping up this story by Christmas is simply not going to come true. :(
"But you have planted wickedness, you have reaped evil, you have eaten the fruit of deception. Because you have depended on your own strength and on your many warriors."
— Hosea 10:15
« ... »
Almost there.
Some variation of that short, hopeful thought had found its way across Alister's mind almost every minute of every day for the past few weeks. Almost there... Just a little longer... Soon it'll all be over...
Tachyon's project was almost complete. He had reported just yesterday that only a few final procedures and safety checks needed to be completed before the new equipment would be ready for use. Alister could hardly contain his excitement. Surely this would put an end to the senseless violence plaguing his beleaguered galaxy. Decades ago the Lombaxes had won the War, and now at last they would finally win the battle as well.
Smiling contentedly, Alister shook himself from his reverie and looked around him. For the most part it was life as usual at Main Headquarters, albeit quieter and more peaceful than it had been in a while. Panels were beeping and Lombaxes were tending to their duties. A female soldier at one of the communication stations was trying to reason with some unheard party on the other end of her receiver. The Central Control Room looked the same as it had a year ago from the command chair that still hardly seemed like a seat of honor reserved for a high-ranking General. This would probably be the last time he sat here, Alister reminded himself gratefully as he remembered that General Braxton had awoken from his coma not long ago and would be returning to duty tomorrow.
So much good news. It seemed as though, after unbelievable hardship, things were finally looking up—and not a day too soon. He hoped that future generations would learn of these dark days from a safe and happy utopia in which no one had to live in fear of evil. Nothing would make him prouder than to know that he had taken part in bringing about such a future.
"All right, I'll tell him." The female soldier at the comm station took off her earphones and turned around to face Alister. "I'm sorry, General," she said, "but it's the Keeper of the Dimensionator. He insists on speaking with you."
Alister stiffened, his hopeful mood darkening at the mention of Kaden. It was too soon for them to be speaking again. He had a hard time admitting it even to himself, but deep down he was hoping that someday he and Kaden might settle their differences and be friends again. If they got in another argument before the past had time to heal, it might destroy any chance they might have otherwise had for restoring their relationship.
What was this about? Kaden was brash, but even he wasn't so disrespectful as to use an official military line to call about something that wasn't important. Alister had to try his best to act professionally and keep his emotions contained.
With a sigh he glumly muttered, "Put him through."
The officer tapped her console and Kaden appeared on the main view screen, sitting at the controls of his ship, with another Lombax sitting beside him. "Percival Tachyon is a traitor," he exclaimed. "You have to apprehend him immediately!"
Not this again. "And on what evidence have you based this accusation?"
"I was investigating an uncharted pirate base in the Phylax sector—"
"Without authorization, I might add."
"Alister, would you shut up and listen to me for once?!" Kaden snapped, shocking Alister into silence. "There were over a dozen Lombax engineers being held on that station. They were all captured sometime in the past decade and forced to design technology ever since."
"It's true, General," his passenger interjected. "I was captured in a raid on the Lumos settlement eight years ago."
"On Lumos?" Alister muttered in surprise. "Who are you?"
"My name is Dezmond," he said, pausing awkwardly for a moment before adding, "Apparently this young man is my son-in-law."
Alister gasped as the older Lombax's face suddenly surfaced in his memory. He was Nayeli's father... and that meant that Kaden's scandalous claim was absolutely true.
"Alister, most of their designs are the same inventions Tachyon presented last year," Kaden stated, his face a picture of seriousness. "You have to shut down his operation and arrest him right now!"
Alister needed no further convincing. He turned his attention to the nervous faces looking his way and began firing off orders. "Contact the C.A.L.R.! Tell them to locate and apprehend Tachyon immediately!"
"Yes, sir," said the girl at the comm station.
"And put me on full intercom; I have a message for everyone in Headquarters."
"Right. You're on now."
"This is General Alister Azimuth," he announced. "I need every battle-ready soldier this side of the building to meet me in the teleporter room, now!"
« « « « « ж » » » » »
Alister's team was met in the C.A.L.R. by a research supervisor, who looked flustered and out of breath.
"What's this about, General?" he asked.
"No time to explain," Alister said. "Where is Tachyon?"
"The last I heard he was in the Central Lab running some tests on—"
"Have a security team meet us there."
"Y-Yes, sir."
The supervisor rushed to the nearest command console while Alister led his unit from the room at breakneck speed. They raced past confused Lombaxes who stared after them with worry on their faces. Alister tried to ignore them as he pressed forward, lest their anxiety fuel his own.
He couldn't believe this. Kaden was right: Tachyon was a traitor. He wasn't sure what burned more—that he'd been betrayed by someone he trusted wholeheartedly, that the hope which promised him a better future had proven false, or that he had lost his best friend over this issue and he had been dead wrong.
Upon reaching the Central Lab, Alister and his soldiers stormed inside.
"Tachyon!" Alister cried out, scanning the room for the treacherous Cragmite. His heart sank when he saw the creature sitting in the cockpit of one of his fiercest battle vehicles—a fully-loaded arsenal of a cockpit mounted atop four walking legs, each the width of a large tree. He gazed down at them from his lofty perch, and a sinister smile crept across his hideous face.
"Why, hello there, General Azimuth," he muttered with false congeniality. "You're just in time to see the ultimate demonstration of what my inventions can do!"
Half a dozen guided missiles launched from the vehicle, blasting toward the stunned Lombaxes.
"Run!" Alister screamed, and his soldiers scattered in all directions. The sound of several back-to-back explosions filled Alister with terror, but a quick look around after the smoke had cleared revealed that none of his men had been hit.
"Surround him," he ordered. "Don't let him get out of this room."
He heard a faint, muted chuckle descending from above, and looked up in curious disbelief at Percival Tachyon. As the Cragmite's cackle slowly transformed into a maniacal laugh, his ear-splitting voice filling the room like a blaring alarm, all the machines in the room began to move. Engines thrummed to life. Robotic legs stretched out and clanged against the metal floor. Suits of armor, as though possessed, walked forward of their own accord. Through the helmet portion of the suits peered pairs of eyes that appeared to be floating in liquid.
Alister watched all this in horror, unable to process what he saw with his own two eyes. It was like one of the nightmares that had haunted him during many of the sleepless nights he'd suffered through the last ten years—except it was real.
Once more the room exploded with the strobe of gunfire. Before any of the unprepared Lombax soldiers had time to react, half of them had been shot down. Alister heard screams of agonizing defeat all around him.
"Retreat!" Alister screamed, thinking only of getting his remaining soldiers out of danger. He brought up the rear as they all bolted for the door, and saw three more of them shot through the back before they could make it. He couldn't bear to watch, but his eyes refused to shut, intent on punishing him for his unforgivable lack of foresight.
As he crossed the threshold of the room he shouted, "Lock down the lab! Destroy everything and everyone inside!"
Before the frantic researcher could react to this order, the doors to the room were blasted clean off. Almost paralyzed with fear, Alister managed to turn around to see Tachyon and his forces pouring out into the halls of the Center. Surprised workers flew into a panic, and pandemonium ensued as innocent Lombaxes were chased down and brutally killed by machinery they had built with their own hands. The sight was more gruesome and more cruel than any of the countless massacres he'd ever witnessed on the field of battle.
"General Azimuth," the voice of one of his subordinates called out through the hellish chaos all around, and Alister returned to his senses with the realization that a lieutenant was pulling him away from the action. He witlessly followed him into a wayward alcove, where he could only muster up the sense to exclaim, "What's going on? What are those things controlling our vehicles?"
"I think I recognize them, sir," said the lieutenant, gasping out his words. "They're Drophyds. Tachyon must've smuggled them in with the materials we imported from Planet Zaurik."
Alister let out a harsh, ragged breath, choking on his own amazement. Of course! All of Tachyon's 'inventions' were designed with a brainwave-reading sensory system akin to the technology used in the Dimensionator. Thus, even though they were designed to be manned by Lombaxes, they could in theory be used by any creature who could fit inside. It must've been no difficult task for Tachyon to sneak a few of the tiny fish-like aliens inside the Center, and then it was just a simple matter of placing them inside the finished battle mechs when no one else was on duty.
How could he have been so foolish?! How could he have overlooked something so important?! Was he so desperate for a chance to help his people that he had blindly accepted promises of change in the mouth of a silver-tongued liar?
And now it was too late. Tachyon's technology was being manufactured all over Fastoon, to say nothing of other Lombax planets and space stations. That meant that almost every place in the galaxy where there were Lombaxes, there was also an enemy munitions base, hiding in plain sight and waiting to destroy them.
"What should we do?" the lieutenant asked fearfully.
Alister turned to him, his face awash with childlike dread. What could he do? How could he possibly make this right?
"I'll slow them down as much as I can," he said. "You contact the Elders. Tell them to evacuate the Center, and help the scientists get out. Make sure word gets out to all Lombaxes across the galaxy what's happening."
"Yes, sir!"
The lieutenant saluted and sped off, leaving Alister to face his demon alone. Taking a deep breath, the young general activated his hoverboots and set off in the direction Tachyon had gone. He had to do everything in his power to keep the Cragmite's revolution from penetrating the walls of the C.A.L.R.
When he turned a corner and saw Tachyon's entourage plowing through a wide corridor, he charged forward without thinking. As he prepared to blast the Cragmite with the full strength of his weapon's electric shock, a huge machine similar to the one Tachyon commanded roared at him from the side and knocked him hard against the wall. He smashed into the wall head-first, and even as he collapsed into a limp heap on the ground, he already felt his senses getting dull and his vision fuzzy. Indistinct shapes hovered over him while voices whispered softly as though from far away. Just before he lost consciousness he recognized a short exchange between one of Tachyon's troopers and the Cragmite himself.
"Shall we finish him, Majesty?"
"Perhaps not yet. He might make a good shield for my throne during the battle."
« … »
Alister awoke to disoriented sensations that were unpleasantly familiar. Bright light like fire. Darkness like smoke. The smell of ash rising in the air. Faint noises that built in his deadened ears until they were deafening. Screaming; wailing; explosions and crashing, crumbling stone. The sounds of death and destruction.
He lifted his throbbing head and looked up. No longer was he inside the fortified walls of the Center for Advanced Lombax Research, and his hope that Tachyon's ambition could be contained therein died as he saw Fastoon's Capitol crumbling under siege before his very eyes.
When he tried to move he couldn't, and he realized that his arms and legs had been bound with energy cables to the cold metal surface that he felt against his back.
"Awake, are you?" a hard voice hissed from behind. Alister craned his head as far back as he could and saw Percival Tachyon poised regally at the controls of his battle throne. He leered down at his captive with giddy fascination radiating from his beady yellow eyes. "Take a good long look, Lombax," he instructed, gesturing to the view all around. "This is the last time you will ever see your precious planet in all its glory."
Alister struggled with his bonds and not surprisingly failed to get free. He gasped in broken-hearted frustration, letting his face fall so that all he could see was the metal feet of Tachyon's war machine as it stalked along, ravaging the streets of his beloved home.
"Oh, what's the matter, General?" the Cragmite mocked. "You can't really be that surprised."
"Why are you doing this?" Alister asked, his voice quivering with pain and confusion.
"Why?" Tachyon repeated. "Would you care to guess?"
"The Cragmite Empire needed to be defeated! I thought you understood that!"
"You mean you thought that you had successfully brainwashed me into accepting your pompous, self-righteous philosophy? Good. That's what I was going for."
"We trusted you! We had mercy on you!"
"You enslaved me! Doomed me to a wretched existence as a cosmic joke! But now the joke is on you. The once proud and powerful race credited with the defeat of the Cragmite Empire will be wiped out by the only Cragmite who they in their arrogance allowed to live—by weapons they built with their own hands! Can you imagine a sweeter irony than that? Can you?!"
Tachyon erupted into a fit of laughter, and his cruel, ear-splitting voice shrieked through the air almost as loud as the explosions that rang all around.
Alister looked once more at the carnage before him, overcome by grief. Tachyon's bloodlust was everywhere. Innocent Lombaxes fled in terror as their city crumbled all around them. Thousands of Drophyd mercenaries ravaged the planet and its people without conviction, using technology supposedly built for peace. A gorgeous sunset was marred by the tendrils of smoke that streaked up into the sky from burning buildings.
Sunset? Just how long had he been unconscious?
Nearby an unfortunate group of young Lombaxes scattered like frightened insects from Tachyon's war machine. A boy among them, probably no older than seventeen, lost his footing and fell to the ground. He had no time to get back on his feet—only to glance up at the giant metal leg bearing down upon him. Alister saw the helpless fear in his eyes just before he disappeared beneath the foot of Tachyon's five-ton mech.
Alister gasped out a ragged breath. His heart felt like it would burst.
"Stop…" he murmured feebly. "Stop this, please!"
He didn't want to give this traitor the satisfaction of seeing him beg, but his grief had driven him to madness, and he was compelled against his will to do the only thing he could.
"A soldier like you should understand my ambition," Tachyon stated mockingly. "To avenge my people, secure their future, and destroy any threat to them or to myself."
"It's not the same," Alister bellowed.
"Ashes to ashes," Tachyon muttered with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "You're guilty by association as far as I'm concerned. All of you are."
Then the Cragmite's aura darkened, and his tone grew harsh. "There are no words to describe the depth of my hatred for your race. I will not rest until each and every one of you has tasted the sting of my perfect revenge."
Alister's heart sank into a sour stomach. He kept silent, knowing there was nothing he could say that would stir the callous soul of Percival Tachyon.
All he could do was watch the bloody massacre he was powerless to stop. His emotions wailed and his insides twisted more with every minute of the carnage he was forced to witness. Every building he saw topple, every child he saw searching for their parents, every splash of fresh blood that painted the armor of Tachyon's troopers, drove the knife deeper into his chest. No torture could be worse than this.
There was no telling how long it went on... minutes?... hours? It felt like an eternity. By the time the energy tethers binding him to Tachyon's mech finally turned off and released him, he was as still and listless as a rag doll, and just as such did he fall to the ground below with all the vitality of a dead body.
He didn't even flinch when he heard Tachyon instruct his troopers to kill him. He had half a mind to let them. But his survival instincts took over when he looked up and found himself staring down the barrel of a blaster. The vile yellow eyes of the Drophyd sentry on the other end were as cold as the fluid in which the creature floated. Alister balled his fists, scraping his knuckles against the cracked pavement so hard that they bled. He couldn't relinquish his life so easily. Not if there was still a vestige of hope left to fight for.
With animal agility he dove under the path of his would-be killer's blast. The sentry was too surprised to counter fast enough when Alister zipped in front of him. Within the same breath the enraged Lombax snatched his weapon and turned it on him, firing without mercy. The water tank on the trooper's suit shattered, and the tiny Drophyd tumbled out, falling to the ground with a splat. The vacant armor ceased to function, and its former occupant flopped helplessly on the ground like the sniveling piece of shark bait it was.
Alister winced in pain as a sharp burning sensation split through his shoulder, and reached across his chest to cradle a smoldering flesh wound. Of course there were still two more more troopers, and he'd dropped his blaster after being shot.
He looked up at the metal bodies as they stepped toward him, brandishing their weapons with intent to kill. Alister hung his head in defeat. It looked like this was the end for him.
Suddenly an armored vehicle zoomed into view, vigorously firing off plasma bolts from a turret on its roof. The armor of the unprepared Drophyds was shredded to scrap in a matter of seconds, leaving a dumbfounded Alister to stare toward his rescuer. The hovertank's hatch opened and a Lombax wearing the uniform of a Praetorian Guard emerged and reached a beckoning hand down to Alister.
"General Azimuth," he greeted with a tone of utmost urgency, "Your presence is required at a meeting of the Council of Elders, now."
Alister huffed in frustration. A meeting? Now? Tachyon was leading a full-scale assault on Fastoon. This was no time for discussing the problem. But at the same time, he understood their reasoning. The Guard was doing its best to fight back, but clearly they were in over their heads. Something drastic needed to be done, and it was up to the scientists—not the soldiers—to figure out what. Besides, there was nothing more he could accomplish on the field of battle until his wounds had been treated.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to the hovertank and reached for the soldier's hand. Twilight was fading, and there was barely enough light left to see by.
The sun had set on the darkest day in Lombax history.
Author's Notes:
- Theme Song: "Devastation and Reform" by Relient K— This song is a pretty self-explanatory summary of what's going through Alister's head, both now and in the recent past... Sadly, though, the hopeful note at the end doesn't really apply. T-T