The Peace of Diogmos
A man's mind is a terrifying place... Part four of the Jogen series.
Welcome back for part four of the Jogen series! This is the final installment of this story. If you missed the last story, you can click here to go back and read it.
The Year of Man’s Dominion
***
A man’s mind is a terrifying place — a microcosm of the universe and the creative force behind it, capable of constructing futures from nothing, or conversely, tearing them down.
Diogmos took a sledgehammer to it all as he sat and let his mind toil. A terrifying thing indeed. His eyes were locked in that middle-distance beyond seeing, set upon a crumpled bit of paper he’d thrown into the burning hearth, shriveling and blackening under the weight of his stare.
Why did Eleos have to go off and try to play the hero?
“Sir,” came a voice, “are you alright?”
Dio had forgotten about the servant. With a sigh, he said, “no, Alder, I am not.”
“Was it the letter, sir?” Alder asked. Dio’s eyes never left it, the letter, now reduced to flakes of ash over the crackling logs. “What did it say?”
Yes, what did it say? That was the real question. Dio reached for his scotch, drank it. The flames behind his eyes burned hotter. After a moment of sulking, he spoke.
“It would seem my brother has gone and gotten himself killed.”
***
“We must look for another way, Dio!” Eleos loved to plead, especially lately. Always playing the altruist.
“And what way would you suggest?”
“Any way that doesn’t involve genocide at the global scale.”
They’d had this conversation hundreds of times before, and it always came back to this. Dio smiled that same crooked grin his father had given him. “You give me too much credit, Eleos.” Dio saw it then, the way his brother loathed him, and he took a small satisfaction in it.
“Orbital strikes aren’t going to bring peace to these people. Nevermind the fact that there might not be a planet left for us once you’re done. What will you do then?”
“Planets can be rebuilt, Eleos. Our people cannot be.”
“If that were the case,” Eleos said, “Then we wouldn’t be here right now. Is life really that cheap to you?”
“They are beasts, not people,” replied Dio. “I would not gamble the lives of the few we have left to try and make peace with the savages.”
Eleos spat the word back at him. “Savages. You have the nerve to call them that after what you’ve done? And what about Baylmon? Is he not proof that we can coexist as a species? He learns our ways—”
“Baylmon would cut our throats in our sleep if given the chance!”
That stopped Eleos. He considered something, then said, “perhaps only yours, Dio, and only because you’ve given him reason to.”
Dio grinned again. He liked when this side of his brother came out. Even the rose has its thorns.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Eleos chided.
“Eleos, there will never be peace with the giants. You weren’t there when we first made landfall. I saw it for myself. It’s just as the scriptures say, they are abominations. Their existence alone is blasphemy.”
“You’re using the scriptures to validate your own paranoia, Dio. Your ego’s too fragile to accept the idea of sharing the universe with another race.”
Dio scoffed. “You’re going to lecture me on my ego now?”
Eleos looked almost guilty then. So easy to manipulate. “What would father do?” he asked. A final, desperate move.
“Father,” said Dio, “wouldn’t do anything. He didn’t do anything, other than die and leave us with his mess.”
It was Eleos’ turn to smile. “Then let me do something. Let me try to make peace with them.”
“It is no longer up for debate, Eleos.”
“But—”
“I said it’s done!” Dio stood with a stomp of his heel. “You will put this to rest.”
He should have seen it then, the betrayal in his brother’s eyes. Eleos had a big heart — too big, perhaps — but he could also be conniving. The two of them were not so different as they thought. Their veins both bled that cursed Caruso blood.
***
“Perhaps we should gather the council, sir?” asked Alder.
Glass. Sip. Burn. Dio let the drink dance on his tongue. Say what you will about the Scotts, those old boys knew their spirits.
“The council,” Dio said, as if it were a foreign word he’d just learned. He took a moment to think, his gaze restless now. “I suppose so. I see no use in hiding this from them.”
Alder nodded and slipped away, silent as a passing shadow. A good, loyal man. Few of those left these days. Hell, it seems even blood doesn’t count for anything these days. Damn Eleos. Damn him for what he’d done in the name of Virtue. Dio had been chipping away at the Rephiim. He was sure they’d been close to breaking any day now. That was before his brother decided to run off and play martyr. Now what were they to do? What a mess.
The room darkened upon Alder’s return. “Sir, the council has been notified. They’ll be gathered before the hour is up.”
Dio downed the rest of his drink. “Good. I’ll be with them momentarily.”
“Can I get you anything, sir?”
Dio’s eyes followed the ice cube as it swirled the bottom of the glass. “Another drink, Alder.”
***
An alert on Diogmos’ console startled him awake. His room was dark, hardly bright enough to see the stranger in the bed beside him. A light blinked from across the room.
Red – Red – Red – Red.
Dio groaned as he sat up, head aching and stomach churning. His bare feet found the warm rug at his bedside, then the cold floor beyond as he stumbled across the room. He hit the indicator with his fist, then perched his brow on his other hand as he rubbed his eyes.
“What is it?”
“It's the hangar bay,” replied a canned voice. When Dio didn’t respond, the operator continued. “It’s your brother. He just took one of our shuttles. And the giant’s with him.”
Dio’s robe was on before the man finished his sentence. The light in the hall beyond blinded him as he marched through the doorway and towards the lift. His feet slapped the floor in tandem with the pounding in his head. Two guards in black and gold appeared from spaces between the light and now flanked him; his nightwatch. Their party gathered more guards as they reached the lift and delved towards the belly of the Solar Ray.
Below, men in coveralls scratched their heads as they circled around the open bay doors. Stars gazed back at them through the hangar’s atmosphere shield, equally as confused. One of the flight crew caught sight of Diogmos and turned white. His lips began blubbering, looking for an explanation.
Dio didn’t give him time to.
He took hold of the man’s collar, pulling him close enough to smell the leftover sleep on his breath. He snarled at the poor fool, screamed at him, then shoved him back. Dio didn’t even know his name, but his rage beckoned for a release. The flight crew’s captain, the one who’d signaled for Diogmos, came rushing over once he realized what was happening. The others backed away, no longer interested in the dark space beyond. No, something darker now stood before them.
“What the hell happened?” Dio Barked. “How was he able to leave?”
The captain, Tarick, answered for his crew. “It’s late into the night, almost morning. We run a skeleton crew at this hour. He must have snuck in while my guys were trading shifts.”
Dio drew himself up tall before the man, staring down his nose at the fool. His knuckles ached from being wound so tightly, and his jaw felt about ready to crack. “Is this the kind of ship we’re running here, hm?” The crew members averted his gaze as it swept over them. “Lazy. Insubordinate. Despicable. You let my brother slip out right beneath your nose, with a giant no less! The bastard is nine feet tall and you all missed him?”
“Sir, it won’t happen—”
“It won’t happen again, will it?” His eyes went wide. “Of course it won’t! Because you already let it happen!”
Dio began to pace, sparing a glance towards the open bay doors. He couldn’t go after his brother, no it was a death sentence. They might be superior to the Rephiim , but from their estimates the giants had them outnumbered ten to one. Plus, there was no telling what would happen to the ship if Dio were to leave. Eleos was as good as dead. But then again, the weasel had managed to shirk death more than once. Perhaps he had a chance.
“I want crew numbers restored to regular levels at night,” commanded Dio. “No more skeleton crews. No more mistakes.” Rage returned. Dio found a tool cart nearby and shoved it, spilling its contents across the flight deck. “Damnit! You let an entire fucking ship escape right beneath your noses!”
***
The council had been gathered just as Diogmos had requested. Five in total sat around the Solar Ray’s bridge, their nervous fingers drumming the tabletop. Time had left its mark on each man, softening their chins and greying their heads. These were men from Dio’s father’s era, too stubborn or drunk on status to finally get it over with and die. O! how Dio loathed them.
The council struggled to their feet as Dio entered the room. It was late into the evening. Many of them had likely been in bed before this. Jogen was their backdrop this night, the planet’s mass dominating the far window — a field of cerulean covered by swirling clouds and jagged continents.
Dio took his spot at the head of the table, standing all the while, lording his healthy knees over the meager gathering. He let the seconds drag on, savoring the elders’ struggle. Wary hands tried to hide their trembling as balding and liver-spotted scalps began to glisten under the glare of the ceiling light. Let them sweat for once. Let them feel the weight of this.
“Sit.”
A collective sigh filled the room as chairs shuffled and creaked beneath their patrons. Dio took his time to be seated, lowering himself slowly into the head chair as Alder sat it beneath him. A glass of scotch had been placed before him, but he didn’t reach for it this time. No, he needed to show control.
Dio spared a moment to consider the empty chair beside him. Eleos’ chair. The other eyes in the room gravitated towards the open spot. Dio knew exactly what they were thinking. Who was going to get Eleos’ seat beside him?
“My brother is dead,” Dio said.
It was another moment before his words registered. Once they did, the council turned on themselves. Shouts filled the room, fingers darted across the table, and men pleaded to Dio. He sat back and watched it unfold. Theatrics. Each man before him was no more than an actor hoping to win Dio’s good graces. Snakes, the lot of them, good for nothing but scheming and groveling on their bellies.
Alder made a point of clearing his throat as the bickering reached a crescendo. The room rolled into silence. All eyes turned to Diogmos. He held the silence a while longer, taking command of the council’s attention before speaking.
“We are faced with a decision now. From what I understand, my brother’s death has sparked a bit of a civil war on Jogen. They’ve made him into a martyr. Some even call him the Promise. Many of the Rephiim now call for peace with the humans, hoping to welcome us with open arms. Others — mainly the tribe leaders — still call for war.”
“My lord,” said the man seated at Dio’s left. Karn was his name. “I am sorry for your loss. This news… deeply troubles me.”
A brown-noser through and through.
“Lord Caruso appreciates your condolences,” Alder replied.
Karn glanced between Dio and the servant, looking as if he was about to say something. He thought better of it.
“Our options are limited, though less so than they were before. It would appear my brother accomplished what we all once thought was impossible. He was able to make peace with the Rephiim, and live amicably amongst them, if only for a short while.”
A man towards the end of the table, Garreth, spoke up. “I’ve not read the full report, sir, but Eleos’ situation hardly sounded amicable to me. If being tortured at the hands of the giants is considered peace, then I don’t like our odds.”
Dio let the tiniest hint of a grin touch his lips. “You are correct. It would appear we are still dealing with savages. It would be wise not to forget that.”
“But,” Karn interjected, “surely there might be some truth to these claims. The fact that Eleos wasn’t killed on arrival means something.”
“It means he was a tougher bastard than we thought,” said Joran, seated at Dio’s right. “I’ll give him that much.”
Mather, seated beside Joran, nodded his silent agreement.
“Did Lord Caruso stutter?” Asked Karn. “Did you not hear him say that Eleos achieved the impossible? Is history not built on the backs of moments such as this? We need to capitalize on this!”
“I agree!” Joran said, jamming a finger into the table with each word. “We need to strike them now, while they’re still scrambling.”
“It would save us a lot of headache,” echoed Mather.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll kill themselves off,” said Garreth. “We wouldn’t need to lift a finger.”
The arguments continued on like this for a time, and Dio found himself growing bored again. His eyes found the fifth council member. Diogmos had been watching Marek from across the table, who had been uncharacteristically silent. “Marek,” Dio interjected, “do you have something to add?”
Marek shifted in his chair and took a deep breath. “Sure, my Lord… I fear we’re failing to acknowledge a crucial element here.”
Dio raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
“We are not negotiating from an advantageous position. Our time is borrowed, and we are sorely misusing it. If there’s anything the Rephiim have more of than us, it’s time.”
Joran scoffed. “Disadvantageous? Need I remind you we are the ones with the atomics, Marek? Our enemies fight with sticks. It’s not even a competition.”
“They’re ants compared to us,” Mather added.
“Perhaps. But if we go down that road,” Marek said, “it could be centuries before Jogen is liveable again. Those are years we aren’t able to spend. We’re already rationing our supplies. We’d be putting ourselves under siege. I’m sure neither of you would wish to watch your grandchildren starve.”
The truth in the man’s words cut all momentum, and again the council went silent. Dio liked Marek, for what it was worth. The man had a way about him. Too bad he wasn’t born a Caruso. He could have had a bright future.
Garreth began to laugh. “It seems like no option is a good one. Perhaps we cut our losses and move on. There’s sure to be another planet out there.”
Dio felt his eye twitch. A tick. The council members kept their eyes glued to the table. All except for Garreth, who grinned at Dio from across the room. Damn that man. He plays games at a time like this?
“No,” Diogmos said. “Moving on is not an option.” Not while his brother’s corpse was still on Jogen. “We haven’t the fuel, nor the time. Besides, I won’t see us run away like a dog with its tail between its legs. Despicable.”
“So it's peace, then?” Karn risked.
Dio spared the man a look, one with the intent to castrate. “No. If my brother’s proved anything, it’s that peace is a fallacy. You must always suspect betrayal, else you’ll be caught by surprise. There can be no peace with the Rephiim. I’ve seen them myself. They’re devils, all of them.”
Joran cleared his throat. “So we step in? Join the fight with the sympathizers?”
“A sound plan indeed,” Mather added.
Dio rubbed at his eyes. None of this was helping his headache. Why must he be subject to the counsel of such miserable cretins? Surely humanity was capable of producing better stock than these.
“You all think too small.”
Dio stood, allowing Alder to remove the chair from beneath him. Karn made to stand, but Dio used a firm hand to stop him.
“You will remain seated until released by the Lord Caruso,” Alder said.
Dio’s eyes wandered off into the distance once again, landing on the blue behemoth beyond the bridge’s window. Jogen. Such a beautiful planet. What a shame it was that humanity hadn’t reached it first. All manner of futures played themselves out before Dio. Endless paths to travel. He had the power to choose any of them, but desired none of them. All led to the same destination.
Damn Eleos. Damn him for doing this — for forcing his hand.
“What is man?” Dio posed, eyes still fixed on Jogen. He heard a few of the council members shuffle at his back. “Were we not chosen to hold dominion over the universe and its resources? Do the Virtues not act through us, and us on their behalf? The way I see it, Jogen is merely an extension of our inheritance. It is ours to reach out and take hold of.”
Dio turned, casting a slender silhouette against Jogen, akin to the dark scars their orbital lasers had etched into the planet’s surface. “Peace will never come to this planet unless we, the harbingers of Virtue, bring it to those savage peoples. We are the spark of divine will. The reign of the Virtuous furrows our sails. We must show these Rephiim a better way. No more of these games, no more hiding out in the stars like a bunch of refugees.”
That must have been the scotch talking. Dio had a pension for being melodramatic when there was drink in his blood.
A grim smile crept across Marek’s face as he caught on to what Dio was proposing. “Brilliant,” he muttered to himself. The rest, miserable as they were, struggled to keep up.
“I still don’t take your point,” Karn said.
“Of course you don’t, how could I expect you to?” Dio replied. “We cannot wait any longer, that much is evident. My brother, fool though he may be, was right to do what he’d done.” The words burned as they came up. “We must take hold of our destiny. Jogen is our future. The Virtuous himself has brought us here for a reason, and it is by no mistake that we hold the highground over the savages. If we want to enact peace, we must enforce it.”
Garreth caught the man’s meaning then, or part of it, at least. He chuckled, saying, “I like where this is going.”
“We will not take sides,” Dio continued. “The Rephiim and their feuding are beneath us. If they wish to kill each other, let them do so. Man is made of much greater stock than this. Neither will we raze the planet. No, we will carve out our share of the planet — stake our claim and plant our flag. If we are to claim the right of the Virtues, then we must set ourselves apart. We will build ourselves up, amass our fortifications, and let the giants break themselves at our feet.”
Yes, this would do. Eleos, in his treason, had blazed this trail for them. Dio could see it now, he could see it all come together.
Karn stammered his way into the conversation. “If I may ask, what is the message we would bring to our people then?”
Garreth slapped the table, shouting, “Is it not obvious?”
Marek nodded in agreement, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on his lips.
“The message is clear,” Dio said, stepping forth and casting his shadow across the council table. “My brother wanted to make peace with the Rephiim, so that is what we will do. But, there was one thing he failed to understand. Peace is not possible without a strong hand to impose it. We’ll give those savages exactly what they want. If it is peace they’re after, then let them find it at our feet. All will be given the opportunity to serve us, and they will be treated justly for doing so. Those who do not accept our offer will face judgement.” Dio rounded the table and made for the door. Before leaving, he turned one final time to address the room. “Tell the people we make for Jogen’s surface.”
Alder took the door and opened it for Dio. The lord stepped through and left the council to ponder in his wake, none of them feeling any more confident than they had when they arrived.
“This meeting,” said Alder, “has been adjourned.”
If you made it this far, then I sincerely thank you! This is the last of the four installments I’ve written for this short series. If you want to start back at the beginning, you can do so here. If you’d like to be notified of when my future stories are released, then I encourage you to follow me on Substack, or subscribe to this publication to have it sent directly to your inbox.