A LIGHT FROM THE SHADOWS SHALL SPRING
26 Dec 2018Corrigendum
(Previous Entry - FROM THE ASHES A FIRE SHALL BE WOKEN)A warm, yellow glow filtered through delicate draperies and illuminated a suite in the Loren Palace. The isle of New Ithaca was graced with the songs of Chione’s feathered denizens as they greeted the new day.
Awakened by the dawn chorus, Cornelius took a seat at a transparent table on the suite’s private balcony, where he appreciated the fresh breeze swept in from the Garian Sea. He rested his cheek on his fist, and lost himself as he gazed to the horizon.
Upon arrival at the palace suite the previous night, Cornelius was informed of his appointment with Ambassador Delaney the following morning, and was left to his privacy. He opted to shower, and soon lost track of how long it took to scrub months of filth and grime from every nook and cranny. And after, he simply enjoyed the exquisite luxury it was to let the warm, pure water run in rivulets down his face, neck and back. He spent minutes transfixed by droplets that rolled down each well-defined rib.
When it came time to retire, he dressed in the silky sleepwear that had been laid out for him, then rested on the broad, plush mattress and fine linen. After a number of tosses and turns, he found the accommodation intolerable, and opted to make his bed upon the hardwood floor with just a thin sheet.
His dreams consisted of a disturbing jumble of faces, bodies, ships and shapes. At one point in the dead of the night, Cornelius awoke with a guttural scream that reverberated through the room. Attendants responded swiftly, and tripped across Cornelius’ prone form. He had one of them by the throat before the lights were turned on and he came to his senses. Cornelius apologized sheepishly, and the attendants withdrew graciously; one a little worse for wear. All things considered, it was the best night of sleep he'd had in a long time.
“You're late,” a gentle voice interrupted.
Cornelius’ head snapped around, and he made an attempt at standing when he recognized his visitor.
“Do remain seated,” Ambassador Cuthruck Delaney said. “I insist.”
Cornelius relaxed and settled back into a comfortable position in the chair. “My apologies, sir. I was told my debrief was scheduled for 0930.”
“It is,” the Ambassador confirmed, as he eased into the seat opposite Cornelius. “I was rather referring to your missed rendezvous some months ago.”
Cornelius nodded. “I…” His facial expression grew blank and ashen. His eyes developed a faraway look. “... was detained,” he said at last.
A few moments passed in silence while Cuthrick studied his old colleague. Cornelius had been presumed dead when he failed to return from an information gathering mission in 3303. The remains of his ship had been found; mere scraps, scorched and scattered across the surface of a desolate world. The search was called off shortly after its discovery.
“If you don't mind debriefing a bit ahead of schedule, I am eager to know how it was you came to be detained.”
Cornelius sat forward, bracing his arms against the tabletop and rested his eye sockets against the heels of his hands. He visualized the time and place.
“You recall I was among the reconnaissance parties that were dispatched to investigate the rumor of INRA facilities?”
“Of course,” Cuthrick said.
Cornelius continued, “After two facilities were discovered by the Children of Raxxla, then Wing Atlantis, Isaiah discovered a third in Alnath.”
Cuthrick nodded as Cornelius described the sequence of events as he remembered them.
“I lingered for some time at that third site. I was on station well after Isaiah and the others had moved on, as they followed leads on additional facilities. I was fascinated by the INRA research still stored in those datalinks. I don't remember the specifics now, but …mycoid. Yes, that was it. They performed tests using some sort of weaponized mycoid fungus. It destroyed Thargoid tech...”
He paused, removed the hands from his eyes, and blinked.
“Yes, and the Thargoids themselves were physically affected by the blight. Rather sadistic description, if I recall correctly,” Cuthrick added.
Cornelius nodded in grim agreement and swallowed dryly before he continued. “Anyway, I searched the abandoned base exterior thoroughly, and documented my findings. Then I recall a shadow passed over me. The Scarab reported my ship was under fire. Before I could swing around to have a look, it exploded.” He made an expanding gesture with his hands and brought them back together.
“After that, it was just a matter of time until they found me. There was nothing I could do. There was nowhere to hide, and I was already low on fuel and oxygen as a result of my dawdling.”
“They were all clad in black. I don't recall any of their faces. Accents were from all over. Federal, Allioth, some I didn't recognize, at least a couple Imperial. Men and women.”
“They threw me in a cell, and from that point I cannot account for time. I recall precious little of what came next, which leaves me confident they employed some manner of mind altering or memory dampening technique.”
Cuthrick gave an almost imperceptible series of nods.
“Next thing I remember was being dumped on my face in a cold, dark cell. From that point I recall everything quite clearly. Unfortunately, I don't believe I can provide much more useful intel of any sort during that period of captivity, unless the production and shipment of duralium, or the consumption of coal and slaves is of any import to current events.”
Cornelius sat back. He was embarrassed. Never in his life had he given such a poor, uninformative briefing. Not even in the academy.
“Where were the other slaves from?” Cuthrick asked.
Cornelius met Cuthrick’s gaze. “Mostly from places within the influence of Archon Delaine. I didn't get opportunity to speak with many.”
Cornelius squinted, “There was one fellow from… Meene?”
“Mmm, a considerable distance,” Cuthrick noted. “As is Alnath. Any others taken from a similarly considerable distance to Kamorin?”
“I was kept in a solitary confinement cell for the entirety of my stay. Making matters worse, guards did not look fondly upon ‘shirkers’, and speaking was considered ‘shirking’. They cracked three ribs for that short exchange with the fellow from Meene,” Cornelius said, gesturing to his side.
Cuthrick nodded repeatedly, his eyes slowly drifted out to sea.
Cornelius grew increasingly uneasy with the lengthening silence. At length he ventured to ask, "Something wrong, Ambassador?"
Delaney pursed his lips for a moment before he spoke. “While I do intend to get a full account of your captivity, I must admit the true reason I have come to you early is to inform you that our scheduled meeting this morning is being... commandeered.”
Cornelius studied Cuthrick’s expression and asked, “Oh?”
Cuthrick continued, “Yes, affairs in the Empire have become… complex… in your absence. I've been told by certain well placed individuals, that your indiscretions in rendering support to the late Kahina Loren may be expunged from your record in exchange for your… specialized service.”
Cornelius raised an eyebrow. “You mean…”
Cuthrick raised a hand to cut Cornelius off, “Your questions will be answered in due course.”
“Ambassador, I…”
Cuthrick stood and took a few steps toward the suite, then stopped, “I am told a discrete vessel will arrive at the private pad promptly at 0900. You will be briefed aboard the vessel as it travels to an undisclosed destination. You are, of course, free to refuse, but I urge you to consider otherwise.”
Cornelius stared blankly at the table.
Cuthrick folded his arms behind his back and fidgeted with a ring. “We are not dissimilar, you and I. My younger days were characterized in part by a certain... ruthlessness. I won't lie to you and tell you I've forgotten what I did those long years ago, nor will I attempt to assuage your conscience with platitudes. I will tell you that I believe this opportunity to be in your best interest, and in the best interest of the Empire. They would not call upon you if there were not great need.”
Cornelius looked up as Cuthrick turned his head. Their eyes met.
“It is good to see you again. I do hope to have opportunity to work with you more closely in the future.”
Cornelius stood and bowed low in respect; a formal Imperial gesture that Cornelius did not often observe, despite his Imperial heritage. “Thank you, Ambassador.”
Cuthrick smiled, lowered his head in return, then departed.
Cornelius slumped back into the chair, the beauty of the bay below eclipsed by scenes painted by his mind’s eye.
* * *
Cornelius approached the Adder as a figure descended the vessel’s access-way. The man was clad in an immaculately tailored, dark grey uniform, just a shade above black.
It was as Cornelius feared.
The man reached the bottom of the stairs, gestured to Cornelius, and swept his arm back up the direction he had come.
Cornelius ascended in silence, with the grey-uniformed man close behind.
(Continue Reading - RENEWED SHALL BE BLADE THAT WAS BROKEN)