Three Square Meals Ch. 121

"Can you tell me about yourself? About your past?"

Rahn'hagon's expression turned melancholy, the previous happiness in his bright blue eyes turning to regret. "It's a bleak topic of discussion, but after everything you've accomplished, the least I can do is answer your questions." He gestured towards the door and continued, "I'm sure we'll be talking for a while; may I suggest relocating somewhere more congenial than a prison cell?"

John nodded. "Sure... do you know somewhere we can go?"

His father laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "A vessel like this has been my home for countless years. I should know my way around by now."

They walked to the door and left the interrogation chamber, heading out into the gloomy red-lit corridors. John followed Rahn'hagon's lead as they travelled through the black ship in silence. He sensed that his father was apprehensive about discussing the past, with Rahn'hagon composing his thoughts before he answered any questions. The lull in conversation suited John too, who was trying to adjust to the fact that he actually quite liked the mysterious Progenitor that walked beside him.

***

Dana approached the next forbidding black door, this being the twelfth she'd checked in the lower foredecks of Larn'kelnar's ship. She was scouring the vessel for some very specific technology but so far, her search had been in vain. These sections of the Progenitor dreadnought had been previously inaccessible to her down on the planet below, as the front third of Rahn'hagon's crashed spacecraft had been completely obliterated. Whether the destruction was caused by the explosion in the Niryean Rift, or the crash landing on Arcadia, had been impossible to say. Whatever the reason, scouring the ship on the planet had produced a plethora of exciting new technologies... but not the real jewels in a Progenitor's arsenal, which she was searching for now.

The redhead rubbed a hand over her face, the fatigue from being healed catching up with her. She watched the door slide open, her tired gaze falling on the jagged teeth that interlocked them together as they peeled apart. They were as flagrant a contravention of Terran Federation health and safety regulations as she'd ever seen and Dana smirked as she imagined some bureaucrat having a stroke when he saw them. Normally, she found T-Fed rules to be unnecessary and condescending, but looking at the razor-sharp edges, she had to wonder at the mentality behind the mind that designed them.

Holding her breath with anticipation, Dana entered the room, then winced when she saw the corpses on the ground. These thralls had been drained of life, the withered bodies contorted in agony as they'd writhed in their death throes. She looked at them with pity, wondering if those women had cursed Ailanthia and Larn'kelnar with their final breaths. Knowing what she did about Progenitors, Dana wouldn't have bet money on it.

"You deserved so much better..." she muttered sadly, turning away from the lifeless husks.

Dana felt a pang of sympathy for the thralls that had been so appallingly abused by the man they all adored. Despite the women all working for Larn'kelnar and sharing responsibility for the attack on the Invictus, she couldn't help pitying their tortured souls. She glanced around the room and shivered, knowing that their last moments had probably been burned into the ship, their pain and terror recorded for eternity as psychic imprints.

She tried not to think about the dead thralls, or about the tragic fate of the Invictus and the kind-hearted girl who had gone down with their ship. Dreadful memories of Faye's terrified expression sprang unbidden to Dana's mind, the sprite looking to John before tumbling from the Command Podium. She brushed away the tears from her eyes, fighting back the overwhelming sense of grief, knowing that now wasn't the time to fall apart. Leaning heavily against the big device that dominated the room, she breathed deeply to get herself back under control.

*Sparks... you shouldn't be alone right now,* Alyssa said, her voice gentle and sympathetic. *If I ask you to go back to Jade, are you going to pay any attention?*

Shaking her head stubbornly, Dana replied, *It's better if I keep myself occupied... that way I won't keep thinking about... her.*

*Wait there... I'll join you,* her friend volunteered. *But everywhere in this nightmare ship looks the same to me, you might have to give me a few directions...*

*No, I'm okay. I won't be too much longer,* the redhead replied, having explored nearly all of the ship. Deciding to change the subject, she asked, *How's John doing with his dad?*

Alyssa's joyful laughter echoed through Dana's mind. *Rahn'hagon's so happy to see his long-lost son! They haven't started throwing around a baseball yet, but they're not far off.*

*John deserves it,* Dana said, smiling as she imagined the father and son reunion. *I'm so glad it's working out how he always wanted.*

*It caught him completely by surprise,* Alyssa said with a grin. *He never expected that kind of reaction from his father. He was bracing himself for another bitter disappointment after what happened with his mother.*

Dana frowned and asked thoughtfully, *I thought you said that all Jessica cared about was finding Rahn? She seemed really interested in wanting to know more about John earlier...*

The blonde sounded shifty as she admitted, *I might have made a few tweaks while she was sleeping...*

Genuinely shocked, Dana hissed, *You can't go fucking around with her mind! That's John's mother!*

*I had to!* Alyssa said stubbornly. *You should have seen the look on John's face earlier... he was crushed when he realised his mother didn't give a shit about him.*

*Was that all because of Rahn'hagon's influence?* the redhead asked, her heart going out to John.

*Yeah, pretty much. Their psychic bond had suppressed a few aspects of Jessica's personality. She was so fixated on Rahn'hagon that it overshadowed everything else, including her feelings about John and her parents.*

*This could really blow up in your face...* Dana warned her. *Please promise you'll be careful.*

*I won't do anything else to her, I swear!*

Dana pushed off the big black object she'd been leaning against and turned to study it more closely. As she looked up at the hollow, cylindrical device, she felt that maddening sensation as if she'd forgotten something. Clutching at her head, she groaned as a new set of blueprints unlocked in her mind, complex formulae and intricate designs flooding her subconscious.

Fighting off the dizziness to examine the schematics, Dana's mood brightened considerably. "Oh, hell yeah!"

*What did you find?* Alyssa asked, her curiosity piqued. *I'm struggling to follow your train of thought with all the physics... something about a Jacobian matrix and a determinant...*

*I found the wormhole generator!* Dana exclaimed, standing back to marvel at the priceless piece of Progenitor technology.

***

John followed his father into what looked to be a spacious lounge, the furniture surprisingly plush and comfortable, which made for a startling contrast with their sinister surroundings. There was an ornate chair that could more readily described as a throne, surrounded by numerous sofas placed around the room. Rahn'hagon ignored the ostentatious throne and gestured at a couple of the sofas, arranging them via telekinesis so that they were facing each other.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked, as he strode over towards one of the walls.

"Yeah, a drink would be good," John replied, feeling a bit bemused as he crossed the room. He removed his sword and propped it up against the sofa, so he could sit down without slicing the furniture.

Rahn'hagon touched a concealed rune on the wall and a section of plating slid back, revealing bottles of different coloured beverages. He poured out a rich red liquid into a couple of tumblers, then handed one of them to John as he took a seat opposite.

Taking an experimental sip, John nodded appreciatively, tasting the smooth burn of alcohol. "Very nice."

His father did the same and watched John for a long moment. "So... you wanted to know about my past?"

"I really would," John replied, sitting forward and listening attentively. "I've pieced together snippets, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Leaning back in his chair, Rahn'hagon let out a heavy sigh. "I was very different before I came here; they aren't happy memories."

John nodded. "I understand."

Staring off into the distance, Rahn'hagon began his tale. "I was born long ago... sired by one of our kind as you would expect. I wish I could tell you more about my parents, but I never knew them... when I was just an infant, they sent me to a distant colonised world seeded with a thrall race. I was raised there until I grew into a man, then I ascended and claimed their species. They became known as the Randarai and I established a magnificent empire amongst the stars."

Lost in his memories, he sounded distant as he continued, "I gathered my forces and waged war... slaughtering all the lesser species that bordered my territory. For a thousand years I crushed all before me, expanding the Randarai Empire until it spanned hundreds of colonised worlds. When I'd vanquished every civilisation within easy reach, I began to cast my eye further afield and hunted for worthier adversaries; Progenitors and the empires they'd established for themselves. The warfare was relentless, the death toll in the billions... but nothing satisfied my hunger for destruction."

Rahn'hagon's voice trailed off, his eyes shadowed with a host of conflicting emotions.

"How long ago was that?" John asked quietly, rousing his father from his thoughts.

"A lifetime ago..." Rahn'hagon murmured, shaking himself from the daze. "In truth, I stopped keeping track of the years during my time on Arcadia. I know that I endured twelve millennia of conflict doing the bidding of the ancient ones... I grew mighty, destroying all who opposed me, eventually becoming the strongest of those that fought for supremacy. All that is, except one... who had disappeared long before my time, lost in the vast psychic dampening field that blankets this place."

"The Shroud..." John noted, intrigued that Rahn'hagon was aware of it.

"Yes, I've heard it called that by the insectoid parasites that still infest this region of space. Who or what created it, I have no idea, but I do know that it's centred in this quadrant of the galaxy. I was completely unaware of its existence when I was sent to hunt down a rogue Progenitor... but this Shroud conceals our kind from the ancients' unwavering eyes. I lost contact with them as I launched my invasion and soon realised something was amiss, but continued to wage war regardless... ten thousand years of indoctrination is not shed overnight. There were a plethora of foul creatures here, left to run amok for millennia... so I kept my thralls occupied with dispatching them while I searched for my real quarry."

John already suspected that Rahn'hagon was behind the extermination of the Vulkat and the attempted genocide of the Kirrix, but he needed to know for sure.

"Do you remember attacking a species of arachnids called the Vulkat?" he asked pensively. "They'd developed advanced missile tech and fought in black ships banded with orange."

"They sound vaguely familiar," Rahn'hagon replied with a frown. "I seem to recall one of my Fleet Commanders having trouble with some inconsequential species of arachnids... I replaced her with a far more ruthless thrall who handled the whole business with commendable efficiency."

John tried not to react badly to his father's complete lack of remorse at exterminating the Vulkat. He understood Rahn'hagon's difficulty in empathising with a non-thrall species, having had trouble relating to the more diverse aliens himself. He also knew that even after escaping control by the Astral monsters, Rahn'hagon wasn't the only Progenitor to continue adhering to his genocidal upbringing.

Larn'kelnar had killed millions as he revelled in playing the puppet master. Likewise, Mael'nerak had taken thousands of years before he changed his ways; first boredom, then his love of Valada eventually softening the brutal annihilator of the Achonin. It was only to be expected that Rahn'hagon had behaved in a similar manner, but knowing how much Nkkrrit had suffered at his father's hands was still galling, no matter the reasons explaining his actions.

"Anyway, shortly afterwards, I finally found the Progenitor that had made this place his domain," Rahn'hagon said, his eyes gleaming with millennia-long hatred. "Mael'nerak... he still lived after all that time!"

"The two of you fought the War of Heavens..." John murmured, deeply troubled.

Rahn'hagon looked at him quizzically. "What was that?"

Sitting back in his chair, John took a sip of his drink before replying, "The War of Heavens... That's what the Trankarans call the cataclysmic battle between you and Mael'nerak that nearly saw them wiped out."

"Oh, I see," Rahn said, clearly disinterested in Trankaran nomenclature or their near extinction.

John studied his father with mixed feelings. At the time the war took place, Rahn'hagon had only just escaped the control of the Astral monsters and was still heavily influenced by a lifetime of butchery at their behest. John knew it wasn't realistic to expect Rahn'hagon to have suddenly changed his ways, but knowing it was his father that had obliterated billions of Maliri and Trankarans was still a horrific thought.

Trying to keep his tumultuous emotions in check, John asked, "So what happened when you found Mael'nerak?"

Leaning forward animatedly, Rahn'hagon continued his tale, caught up with the memories, "I waged war against him... and the contest was glorious! I had him bested and was driving him back... until he delayed the inevitable by throwing all manner of twisted abominations at me!"

"The Drakkar..." John said, remembering the video from the Nexus files.

"Their troops were ferocious in boarding actions with an insatiable hunger for battle... my thralls had never seen such savagery. As for their females..." His father's lip curled in disgust. "Truly monstrous... I had to intervene personally for my forces to regain the upper hand."

"Then Mael'nerak attacked you directly..."

Rahn's expression turned indignant with outrage. "How dare he! I knew he'd abandoned our ways, but to have fallen so far..."

"What do you mean by 'abandoning our ways'?" John asked curiously.

"Ah, of course you wouldn't know," Rahn'hagon replied with a wry smile. Looking away into the distance, he continued, "The rules of battle are for their benefit... Progenitors amass their thrall forces and engage in a protracted campaign of attrition until one side is the victor, culminating in the death of the weakened opponent and destruction of his ship. Making a comeback and winning after being forced into a final stand is unheard of."

*I think Mael'nerak managed it once,* Alyssa interjected, sounding surprised. *Do you remember me telling you about the psychic echoes of yellow-skinned thralls invading the Legacy? He must have been on the verge of losing a war with another Progenitor if thralls were boarding his ship... but somehow he survived. It must have happened long before he came here and wiped out the Achonin.*

John found himself agreeing with her conclusion, then he focused on his father as Rahn'hagon continued retelling his past.

"I had seized half of Mael'nerak's territory and my victory was assured," Rahn'hagon said with a flicker of pride, before his eyes glinted with a dark anger. "In his desperation, he launched one final futile attack... then like a coward, he blew himself to pieces rather than face me in combat! That explosion was like nothing I'd ever seen! The blast ripped my fleets apart, and would have claimed me too... if my ravaged ship hadn't been hurled through a rift in space."

"The explosion in the Niryean Rift," John said quietly. "We analysed what was left of the Zeta-Pegasus system and think Mael'nerak overloaded his Wormhole Generator."

"So that's how that bastard did it," Rahn'hagon muttered with grudging respect. He grimaced at the terrible memories. "I was dying... mortally wounded by his suicidal strike. I was forced to expend the last of my resources to heal myself and guide the ship down to crash land on Arcadia. I survived... but I was trapped on an uninhabited world, my vessel devastated and my network of thralls wiped out."

"We discovered records which seem to indicate that happened about 9000 years ago," John said, remembering the Nexus files. "So what happened next?"

"I was furious, incensed that I was marooned on some isolated planet with no chance of rescue," Rahn'hagon replied, an ambivalent expression on his face. He suddenly relaxed and smiled wryly. "Then I realised that with my matriarch and thralls dead, I no longer left a psychic beacon in the ether. The Shroud was shielding me from the ancients and I saw no reason to bring myself to their attention again. As far as they were concerned, I must have been killed fighting Mael'nerak... and I had no intention of correcting their mistake."

John looked at him incredulously. "So you just decided to live like a hermit?"

His father nodded. "To my surprise, I found I actually enjoyed the solitude. For the first time, I was able to live the life I wanted, free from millennia of bloody wars and relentless slaughter. It was a peaceful existence, giving me time to reflect on the nature of our relationship with the ancient ones... and plan for a way to deal with them permanently. At least it was, until a Terran survey vessel intruded upon my sanctuary."

"The Cora..."

"It was the first time I'd seen Terrans," Rahn'hagon said quietly, shaking his head. "I mistook them for a thrall species at first, until I realised they must have been more of Mael'nerak's creations. I observed them from a distance, intending to let them depart safely as long as my presence remained undiscovered. Then Jessica Blake stumbled across my ship..."

"You turned her into your thrall," John said, unable to keep the disapproval from his tone.

"I originally intended to eliminate the survey team if they found me... but I was astounded by Jessica's beauty and stayed my hand. She seemed to find me fascinating, so I agreed to answer her questions if she promised to keep my existence a secret from her colleagues."

John looked at him in surprise. "So you didn't use psychic powers to influence her?"

His father smiled wryly. "Your mother's a Xeno-biologist, so finding a new species of intelligent life was apparently like 'hitting the jackpot!'," he replied, obviously quoting the brunette. "I did my best to fend off her interrogation, eventually explaining that I was a galactic refugee of a sort and wished only to live undisturbed and in peace. Despite Jessica's intense curiosity, she agreed to respect my privacy... if I would allow her a more thorough physical examination of my species..."

"Wait a second... I thought you seduced her!" John exclaimed in surprise.

Rahn'hagon burst out laughing. "No, quite the opposite! I was very concerned about making a psychic connection with Jessica, in case it alerted the ancient ones to my continued existence. However, she used her feminine wiles to devastating effect... and I was powerless to resist her charms." He looked faintly embarrassed as he admitted, "Despite the fact that I'd bedded thousands of thralls, your mother was like no woman I'd ever been with. She was so vocal and enthusiastic, teaching me all sorts of wonderful new carnal acts..."

John looked away, turning red with embarrassment. It was a surprise to find out that his mother had been the one to instigate the relationship with Rahn'hagon, but the last thing he wanted to hear was his father enthusing about Jessica's performance in the bedroom.