Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, I do not in fact own the Cthulhu Mythos or the Gate series.
Edited: 1/21/22
"A new world ripe for conquest! Just think of it, no technologically advanced countries, no UN, nobody whining about how 'we're engaging in imperialism' when we conquer smaller countries!" I paced in the Castle East's vast war room surrounded by the Imperial Council, Field Marshals, Air Marshals, Admirals, and Commodores, who all sat at a round table.
The council was a group I assembled once a month to deliberate and find solutions to any problems the Dominion might be facing. It was composed of Grand Justiciar Hróaldr who was the head of the Antarctian Supreme Court, Minister Wulfhild who was the head of the Ministry of War, Grand Field Marshal 1 who was the head of the Antarctian Imperial Guard, Lord-Commodore Mochán the head of the Antarctian Space Corps. Grand Air Marshal 1, the head of the Antarctic Flying Corps, Grand Admiral 1, who was the head of the Imperial Navy, Vizier Narses, the head of the Imperial Department of Truth, Director Aelius, the head of the Imperial Department of Weapons Research and Development. Minister Unnr who was the head of the Ministry of Production, Chief Publican Meresankh the head of the Imperial Bureau of Taxation, Arch-Treasurer Guðríðr who was the head of the Imperial Department of the Treasury, Minister Gryfina the head of the Ministry of Imperial Infrastructure.
Director Youtab the head of the Imperial Transportation Bureau, Director Feonilla the head of the Imperial Department of Health, Vizier Rosea, the head of the Imperial Labor Department, Vizier Satiah, the head of the Imperial Bureau of Education. Minister Hegesipyle the head of the Imperial Ministry of the Interior, Lord-Kommissar Eindriði the head of the Imperial State Security Agency, The Specter the head of the Office of Secret Imperial Intelligence, Director Tahmineh the head of the Office of Imperial Navy Intelligence. High Executioner Æðelberht the head of the Imperial Elimination Bureau, and finally Grand Thrah'yed Sigismund, the leader of the Imperial Thrah'yed.
"We must ready our armies, and I must expand the portal so we can fit our tanks through," I said, stroking my osrid thoughtfully.
"What of The Weapon?" Air Marshal 5 asked.
"Yes The Weapon, I mean we have to use it sometime." Field Marshal 8 said.
"The Weapon! Are you two stupid? We created The Weapon in case aliens tried fucking with us. It is not for use against anything else! It's a neutronium bomb for sultan's sake!"
The Weapon had been designed as the second stage in the evolution of Antarctian doomsday weapons, the first being The Bomb. The Weapon was a neutronium bomb. The Weapon's explosion would be so powerful that each second of it would be enough to devastate the entire surface of a planet sixteen times over before after six hundred and ten seconds it would halve its power to eight. It continues for nine hours.
"But-"
"No! This shall be a glorious conquest, like the War for Antarctic Superiority. And besides, if we do use The Weapon, Alvin will start whining about all the citizens these invaders took!" I slammed my fist down on the table.
"Isn't the Pasha doing that now?" Grand Field Marshal 1 asked.
"Yes! But he'll be doing it twice as much!" I shouted before composing myself, "Okay, now onto the-V30s, how many do we have?"
"We have eighty-thousand ready," Unnr said.
"Good! So what kinda gun did you guys decide on?"
"We decided on one heavy fusion cannon turret," Unnr said.
"And the Minotaurs?"
"Four million are ready for action."
"Fantastic! Now prepare everything for the guards. How many do you think we'll need to invade this world?" I asked.
"I estimate that we'll need around two billion to take and hold this world." Grand Field Marshal 1 said.
"Piece of cake," I said, snapping my fingers and summoning the guards. "How long do you guys think this campaign will last?"
"Two years? Probably less." Grand Field Marshal 1 said.
"Specter!" I shouted suddenly.
"Yes!" The Specter still managed to look surprised through the heavy distortions placed on the hologram of his head.
"Send out your agents. I want spies within this empire by today!"
"It will be done, my lord," The Specter replied.
"Narses, I want enough posters to put on every one of our planets."
"It will be done," Narses replied.
I turned to Lord-Kommissar Eindriði, "Extract any information you can from the captured invaders, then hand 'em over to Hróaldr. We'll give them a show trial."
"What shall the verdict be, milord?" The Grand Justiciar queried.
"Guilty, of course," I chuckled.
"And the punishment?"
"First, they shall be broken upon the wheel one by one in full view of their comrades, then their broken bodies will be tied to it whereupon it shall be hoisted up on a pole for the crows to eat, their leaders, however, will be thrown in Blackrock," I finished with a cruel chuckle.
"Yes, my lord."
"Mochán, I want you to find this planet. The guards have set up a beacon, so it should be pretty easy."
"Yes sir," Lord-Commodore Mochán said. "And there's a situation."
"What is it?" I asked.
"The Sky Outlaws are screwing with us again," He said.
"Can we use The Weapon now?" Field Marshal 8 asked excitedly.
"No!" I spoke, smacking him around the head, "We don't even know where their home planet is, idiot!"
I whirled on Unnr, "I also want all Autofacs to scale their production up a level."
The Autofacs were a set of forty nearly invincible completely automatic, completely mobile factories that were each over two-thousand miles in diameter. None of them required any outside involvement to manufacture the massive amounts of equipment, ships, and other war machines the Dominion needed for its continued expansion across the universe. All forty Autofacs were stationed in a galaxy codenamed Erebus, which they were slowly consuming to obtain material.
"It shall be done," Unnr spoke.
/ / / / / / / /
In a scene eerily reminiscent of the fall of London eighty-four years prior, a great column of guards marched through the streets of Santa Maria towards the gate to the Antarctic Dominion's national anthem 'Antarctica, Tis for Thee.'
Many things had changed in the eighty-four years that had passed since the War for Antarctic Superiority, gone were the Shoggoth MBTs, Alskali Heavy Assault Tanks, and Forrester APCs, gone and replaced by A-V10 Scourge MBTs, fifty-two foot long tanks armed with a phased plasma cannon turret and two anti-personnel automatic phased plasma guns, one in a coaxial mount and the other mounted on the front. A-V20 Impaler Heavy Tanks, one-hundred twenty-three foot long tanks armed with one heavy phased plasma cannon, a number of anti-personnel automatic phased plasma guns, and four phased plasma autocannons. Minotaur Automata sophisticated forty-foot-tall tracked war bots which were vaguely humanoid and were equipped with near sentient AI and two heavy phased plasma autocannons.
G-100 Reapers, self-propelled howitzers armed with a heavy fusion howitzer and two pods containing plasma-trionium surface-to-air micro-missiles. O-T8 Phantoms, these motorcycles produced by the Kthecno Motor Company, a vehicle manufacturer based in the Antarctic Dominion, were used as single-man long-range recon vehicles and could reach speeds of up to four-hundred fifty miles an hour. Naturally, these vehicles were not street legal and could only be ridden by specially trained guards.
G-90 Hwachas mobile surface-to-air missile systems armed with four plasma-trionium missiles. N-L58 Basilisks, these sixteen-wheeled vehicles came in two different versions, the first being the N-L58 Basilisk ETV, which were flatbeds used for transporting VTOLs, APCs, Minotaurs, virtually anything that could fit on their massive beds. And the second version was the N-L58 Basilisk MFH, which were mobile field hospitals that had enough room to treat over two hundred patients at a time.
N-K25 Coyotes which were six-wheeled armored vehicles that came in a myriad of variants, N-K25 Coyote FLAs which were ambulances, N-K25 Coyote APCs which were APCs, N-K25 Coyote MGSs which had a light phased plasma cannon affixed to them, N-K25 Coyote MLMSs which had a light plasma-trionium missile system affixed to it, and N-K25 Coyote ADGs which had a phased plasma anti-air Gatling gun affixed to it.
A-V30 Kaiser Super-Heavy Tanks, one-hundred fifty-four foot long tanks equipped with one heavy fusion cannon turret, six heavy phased plasma autocannon turrets, numerous anti-personnel automatic phased plasma guns, and a plasma-trionium missile system for good measure. A specific battalion of these tanks was commanded by Prime-Sergeant 1-G67 a veteran of several wars including the War for Antarctic Superiority and winner of the Grand Ankh. 1-G67 was in turn commanded by Prime-Commander 1-G1 winner of the Antarctic Star, and leader of one of the most honored legions in the Antarctian Imperial Guard, the 45th, which was the legion that captured both Windsor Castle and the British Royal Family during the War for Antarctic Superiority.
Even the rank-and-file guards looked different, they still wore their Shakos and white skull-like gas masks, but where once they wore no body armor whatsoever they now wore torso armor, knee pads, and forearm guards all of which were a charcoal black color, some guards even wrote or drew things on their spaulders or chest guards, the most common being the popular phrases 'Llll mgepuaaah ah'n'ghayar' or Made for War and 'C' llll mgehye'bthnk Nyarlathotep' or We Fight for Nyarlathotep.
Specific guards known as Heavy Guards looked even more different, they were bulky taller than the average guard and heavily armored, their torso armor had been extended to their upper thighs and they wore shin guards and armored gloves, and replacing the left eyeglass in their gas masks was a metal eyepiece with a crimson lens. Heavy Guards carried rapid-fire heavy phased plasma pulse-rifles in contrast to the others who carried the standard-issue phased plasma pulse-rifle.
Being transported atop a mass of N-L58 Basilisk ETVs were a myriad of aircraft. ZJ-65 Petrels, flying wing-shaped long-range stealth bombers with a wingspan of one-hundred thirty feet and the capability to carry forty-five thousand pounds of ordnance. ZF-16 Falcons, forty-eight foot wide, fifty-foot long interceptors armed with two sets of phased plasma autocannons and six plasma-trionium air-to-air micro-missile launchers. ZU-54 Skuas, sixty-eight-foot long, eighty-eight-foot wide multi-role fighters equipped with four sets of phased plasma autocannons, eight plasma-trionium air-to-surface micro-missile launchers, and four hardpoints for holding plasma-trionium or napalm bombs. Partially disassembled ZT-88 Albatrosses, two-hundred one foot long ogival delta wing stealth/strategic bombers capable of delivering one-hundred-thousand pounds of ordinance. And ZL-221 Terns, sixty-two foot long, sixty-three-foot wide attack aircraft armed with a set of two-phased plasma autocannons, three plasma-trionium air-to-air micro-missile launchers, and four hardpoints for holding plasma-trionium or napalm bombs. All of these aircraft were propelled by two or more Herzfeld Thrusters, which sucked nether energy from the surrounding area and used it to produce thrust.
Not everything had changed in the eighty-four years since the War for Antarctic Superiority. The Flying Corps still used Mi-go VTOL transports, Shan Assault VTOLs, Flying Polyp VTOL gunships, Huthloxz Tactical Transport VTOLs. Though they had been upgraded with phased plasma weaponry and the latest equipment. Two more forms of VTOL had joined these venerable machines, designed during the Second Thirty Years War of two-thousand ten to twenty-forty, the Locust Utility VTOL was a multi-purpose aircraft that blended the firepower of the Shan Assault VTOL with the troop-carrying abilities of the Huthloxz Tactical Transport VTOL while also maintaining a level of maneuverability on par with the Flying Polyp VTOL gunship. And the Tegnu Utility VTOL, these aircraft were small, quick, and mainly used for medical evacuations. All of these VTOLs were propelled by two to four Herzfeld Thrusters, also installed in each was a miniature Nephren-drive, thus allowing them to travel through space, albeit at a slower pace than the titanic Antarctian battleships.
Meanwhile, in the already named Domain of Nova Ankhis, the guards who'd nearly obliterated the enemy army that used to be on the other side of the gate, had managed to fortify the area quite well given the fact that they'd only arrived there the day before. Concertina monowire obstacles around the hill's perimeter made up the first line of defence. This wire was nearly invisible and could cut nearly anything, to simply stumble and fall upon concertina monowire could easily be a death sentence. The second line of defence was made up of mainly camouflaged two-man and heavy phased plasma machine gun foxholes, from which hidden guards could ambush advancing enemy forces. The third line of defence came in the form of a large network of trenches dug into the hillside. From here the bulk of the guards could fire down onto enemy forces. And the final defence line of defence was situated at the top of the hill and consisted of self-propelled weapon emplacements for the tanks and G-100 Reapers.
Hours later, a huge amount of guards, equipment, and vehicles had gotten through the gate. Tanks were lined up in great rows, Minotaurs were deactivated, and guards lazed around, playing poker and other such games.
Reporters from all the major news agencies from around the world were there, too. CNN, ABC, NBC, CBS, the BBC, and the TARS or the Telegraph Agency of the Russian State, after the War for Antarctic Superiority, their humiliating defeat and near annexation had caused Russia to once again succumb to the fires of revolution, leading the fledgling Russian Federation to eventually be replaced by the Russian State.
"I believe we're having a bit of technical trouble on our end, Maxwell," A BBC reporter spoke, "But anyway, I've managed to secure an interview with Prime-Commander 1-G1 of the 45th Legion. How are you feeling about the campaign that lies ahead of you Prime-Commander?"
The cameraman panned over to 1-G1, who was trying to pin a mic to his collar. "I'm feeling very confident. We haven't had a good scrap since that mess down in Koggoth."
"Do you have any comment on the rumors of a new Antarctian doomsday weapon?" The reporter asked.
"I don't rightly know, but from what I've heard, they're just that, rumors," 1-G1 replied.
"We at the BBC have heard from multiple sources that the 45th Legion was one of the first units from the Antarctian Imperial Guard on the scene during the Santa Maria Incident. Is there any truth to those claims?"
"Well, I wouldn't say we were one of the first, but we were there pretty quickly," 1-G1 spoke.
"Can you tell us what you saw there?" The reporter asked.
"Dead civies, dead invaders, children crying, the smell of death," 1-G1 shook his head sorrowfully.
"And of the Imperial Troopers?"
"They had put up quite a fight but were eventually overwhelmed through the invaders' numbers," 1-G1 replied, "Contrary to the lies being spouted by the TARS, they didn't run as soon as we arrived, the Troopers stayed and helped us any way they could, arresting surrendering invaders and such."
"And what of those arrested invaders?"
"No comment," 1-G1 said.
/ / / / / / / /
I sat on my throne watching Hogan's Heroes as usual when suddenly the show stopped and a telephone symbol appeared in the top right corner of the screen.
"Accept!" I shouted.
My beloved Hogan's Heroes was replaced by the visage of Hermione, who was now, after deciding to forgo her withered flesh entirely, a fanged skeleton dressed in crimson finery. I would never tell anyone this, but I was quite glad that she decided to become a Lich. She had grown to become like a second daughter to me.
"Ny! Is it true?" She spoke, her voice coming out as a rasp, "I heard Santa Maria was attacked!"
"Yup," I replied.
"Was it the Russians?" Hermione asked.
"Nope,"
"The Yanks?"
"Nah, it was just some idiots from another planet." I chuckled.
"The Sky Outlaws?" She asked.
"No, and that's the best part!" I crowed, "It's a bunch of medieval era humans!"
"But how'd they get to Earth?"
"Through a portal," I spoke, "Probably another one of those flaws in father's design."
"Can I be of any help?"
"Not really, but if their planet is within your sector, you're gonna be playing host to several battlefleets," I informed.
"Thanks for warning me," Hermione replied.
"You're welcome," I said, getting up, "But alas it's time for me to go. I have a speech in like, now."
"Oh, I won't keep you then," Hermione replied.
"I'll talk to you later, my dear," I said.
Hermione nodded, before the screen cut back to Hogan's Heroes.
I turned it off before fading from existence.
/ / / / / / / /
I faded back into existence behind a large podium in the monstrous Hall of Glory which was filled with people, my speech was to be broadcast throughout the Dominion, on every radio, on every screen, in every home.
"Good evening, citizens of the Dominion, I would like to say that I have good news, yet I do not, these are truly dark times, yesterday's casualty numbers are an unknown at this moment, we can only estimate that they are in the thousands, this not counting the citizens kidnapped by our enemy. But, and this goes out to the families of the victims of this tragedy, at this very moment, the Antarctian Imperial Guard is crossing through the gate and into the world where these invaders originated. And mark my words, they will bring my wrath down upon the despicable cowards who dared to attack us! For every citizen they murdered, we shall retaliate one-hundredfold! These monstrous barbarians shall be utterly crushed beneath our heel, they shall understand why the Antarctic Dominion is the ultimate power in the universe! As for the innocents of this Saderan Empire, they shall no longer have to suffer the tyranny of this deplorable regime, we shall bring them into the fold and give them a brighter future as citizens of the Antarctic Dominion," I finished, to thunderous applause.
/ / / / / / / /
General Stasimus stared at his hands. They were dirty sullied by metal residue. He and several nobles sat chained in a metal box that dripped seawater from a myriad of pipes.
"I shouldn't be treated like this. I'm a noble for Zufmuut's sake." One of the nobles whined.
"Would you idiots shut up!" Stasimus snapped.
"How dare-!" Another noble started.
"Do you think being a noble will count when the Empire is wiped from existence!" The General shouted.
"Hey!" One of their guards yelled, "Pipe down you eight! The High-Pharaoh's speech is starting to come through!"
Through a small box on the wall in front of them, a tune Stasimus had gotten very familiar with began playing, it was followed by a voice speaking in an unfamiliar language.
Several minutes later, the voice stopped, and the sound of applause started.
"Excuse me?" Stasimus asked, "What exactly did he say?"
The guard chuckled, "The High-Pharaoh said your empire's comin' to an end, the Imperial Guard's crossin' through the gate now."
The profound sinking feeling in Stasimus' stomach tripled.
Suddenly a gravelly voice came over the box, "You have arrived, enjoy your stay at Blackrock Penitentiary."
The wall next to them split open, revealing a long corridor lit by bright white lights. Every six feet or so there was a doorway blocked by what Stasimus realized were handless doors.
A group of guards rounded the corner, they walked up and unhooked the chains binding them to the wall before leading them out two by two, until they came to Stasimus, who they led out and down the corridor alone.
Stasimus was led by the two guards through the unchanging corridors for what seemed like forever, the General was actually surprised when they stopped at a door marked with a '7252.' The doors opened, revealing an elderly man wearing the same kind of striped jumpsuit they had made Stasimus put on.
"Here ya go rebel, your new cellmate." One of the guards said, shoving Stasimus into the cell, whose doors closed immediately after the General passed over the threshold.
The elderly man said something in the same unfamiliar language the so-called High-Pharaoh spoke in.
"What?" Stasimus asked, squinting to see after the dramatic downgrade in lighting.
"Ah, Latin, are you from a newly conquered country or something?" The man replied, "Ach! Where are my manners? Please sit, have some umansi."
He pointed to a bowl full of a thick lumpy gray liquid. Stasimus sat down on the metal bench covered in what looked like a red sack.
"What're you in for?" The other occupant of Stasimus' cell spoke after wolfing down the horrid-looking meal, "I was a member of the old rebellion meself."
Stasimus didn't answer.
"You don't talk much, do yeh?" The man chuckled, "Well, anyway it's a welcome change from my old cellmate. All he did was shout expletives and rave about flying elves."
Stasimus gave him a smile, which turned out to more closely resemble a grimace.
/ / / / / / / /
It was several days later that the guards beyond the gate would get any kind of excitement.
"Sir, I believe we have something," 1-?773, an ultrascanner operator, reported.
"What is it?" 1-?635, his commanding officer said.
"Twenty-one large groups of soldiers, I think, are approaching from the southwest," 1-?773 replied.
"1-?775, can you verify this?" 1-?635 asked.
"Yes sir, I see 'em too."
1-?635 picked up a phone, "Sir? I would like to report that both of my ultrascanner operators are reporting signatures approaching from the southwest."
The command center was instantly on high-alert but it would be nearly two hours before the enemy was actually seen. Twenty-one armies all flying different flags appeared to be making camp almost a mile away. In response to this, the guards flooded their makeshift fortifications and settled down to wait.
The next day dawned bright and early. It was a beautiful day. Three of the enemy armies must have thought so too because they started towards the hill as soon as the sun had risen. Nearly an hour had passed before the three armies reached the monowire. The first row of all three armies became hopelessly stuck in it almost immediately, and when other soldiers tried to help them out, they would suddenly find themselves without fingers. It took them a few minutes of confusion and panic before they realized that the iron stakes holding the concertina monowire apart were the cause of their current predicament. Several of the more beastly members of the three armies managed to pull the stakes out of the earth, this was both a good and a bad thing, on one hand the concertina monowire was no longer a problem, but on the other hand the soldiers that had been caught in it were no long whole.
Another problem for the three armies was that, as soon as they crossed through the concertina monowire perimeter, the guards opened fire on them. Lavender bolts of plasma flew from the many defenses. Enemy soldiers fell dead in droves, their blood and organs having been flash-boiled. Lavender bolts continued to fly for over fifteen minutes, and by the time they ended, ten-thousand enemy soldiers lay dead.
The enemy's second attack came later that day. A mass of enemy soldiers, along with a veritable air corps of dragons, advanced on them. The dragons were taken out easily, surface-to-air missiles fired from G-90 Hwachas made quick work of them. G-100 Reapers, their barrels almost pointing straight up, fired with high-pitched booms. Whole groups of enemy soldiers were annihilated, leaving behind nothing but charred skeletons. Lavender bolts once again filled the air. Some men tried raising their shields only for the plasma to burn through them and kill the soldiers on the other side.
A bolt of burning orange fusion plasma fired from an A-V30 Kaiser completely vaporised the enemy's entire left flank. And with that, the enemy retreated. The assault had seen the deaths of forty-five thousand men and three-hundred dragons. And to top it all off, it started raining shortly afterwards.
The enemy's third and final attack came that night. Their remaining forces began advancing across the muddy mess of water-filled craters and broken bodies that had become of the once lush green field. With little fanfare, Minotaur Automata began advancing to meet them, their titanic treads smashing bodies into the mud as they did so. In an instant, lavender bolts sprayed from the Minotaurs' autocannons. Soldiers were cut down, gigantic chunks taken out of them by the plasma. Men had their insides roasted, killing them instantly. Boiling blood flowed from corpses onto the battlefield.
Finally, after nearly ten-minutes, the enemy, demoralized and terrified of the monstrous metal beasts larger than Ogres, began to flee the battlefield en masse. The Minotaurs continued to pursue the fleeing soldiers for several minutes before they received an order to return to base, for the day had been won.
/ / / / / / / /
All across the Antarctic Dominion, from the gigantic tower blocks of Mudremos to the grand villas on the planet of Naud Mirrkur. Screens of all kinds cut to a message, a very familiar message citizens of the Dominion had learned to live with over the course of eighty-four years.
PLEASE STANDBY FOR AN IMPERIAL NEWS UPDATE
A camera panned from a wall-mounted symbol of the Imperial Department of Truth to a stern-looking newscaster sitting behind a desk.
"Good evening, yesterday in a spectacular victory. The Antarctian Imperial Guard has once again routed the enemy from beyond the gate. Imperial Department of Truth correspondent Robert Burk is on the scene, Robert?"
The camera cut to a man in his early twenties who stood in front of the Ankhis battlefield. "Lewis, I'm standing in front of where last night, the Second Battle of the Grand Campaign, took place. As you can see over there."
The reporter pointed at an area, and the camera panned over to it. A Kthecno bulldozer was sweeping the corpse of a dragon into a giant grave.
"Enemy soldiers and beasts are being buried. An estimated two-hundred ninety-nine thousand enemy soldiers were killed in last night's battle. Back to you, Lewis."
The camera cut back to the newscaster. "Thank you, Robert. In other news, the Imperial Transportation Bureau has started construction on a new high-speed monorail system running from Murod to Axror Ek with two stops, one in Voguk, the other in Chagzath. This system will provide a cheaper and ultimately safer alternative to the trans-continental freeways. Monorail System One, as it will be called, shall be only the first of ten, one running through each Province."
/ / / / / / / /
The 45th Legion had been traveling for around thirty minutes; they were heading towards a walled city known as Italica that had recently been discovered by O.S.I.I. spies. 1-G1 stood in an N-L58 Basilisk MFH that had been converted into a mobile command center, his overcoat draped over his shoulders.
"Like, we have a problem." 1-G67 spoke.
Italica was under siege. Great plumes of smoke rose high into the air from the many fires burning in or around it. A force of eight-hundred fifty-five bandits, once soldiers of the army nearly destroyed in the Second Battle of the Grand Campaign, had decided to ransack the city for its perceived riches.
"What kind of problem 1-G67?" 1-G1 asked.
"The city's surrounded by an army."
"Are they ours?" 1-G1 queried.
"Nuh uh," 1-G67 spoke.
"Okay, guess we'll have resistance after all," 1-G1 sighed.
Ten minutes passed, and the 45th had gotten the go-ahead to attack from the Field Marshal assigned to it. One of the turrets on 1-G67's A-V30 Kaiser rotated towards the center of the attacking force. In an instant, a bolt of burning orange plasma flew from the barrel with a titanic boom. It only took a second for the bolt to reach its target. In a gigantic explosion that flung dirt upwards, bandits were vaporized, nothing of them was left behind, not even a skeleton.
As the Kaiser's turret rotated to face forward again, four-thousand guards started to exit their APCs, before minutes later fixing their triangular vibro-bayonets.
"Advance!" A Major shouted.
The four-thousand guards of both types, heavy and regular, began to march in the direction of the remaining bandits, their phased plasma pulse rifles in the quick-fire position.
As they were closing in on the bandits, an arrow glanced off a heavy guard's chest plate, and in an instant lavender bolts of plasma filled the air between the guards and the bandits. Great chunks of flesh were vaporized as burning lavender bolts hit. Bandits instantly dropped dead, their organs and blood flash-boiled. Any hits to a man's cranium resulted in their head exploding. Sending sizzling brains and shrapnel in the form of bits of skull every which way. Bolts from heavy phased plasma rifles dealt even more damage, flesh and muscle were vaporized, leaving behind nothing but a charred skeleton. Whole groups of men were blown apart and simultaneously vaporized as plasma-trionium grenades landed near them before exploding.
It took only twelve minutes for the remaining bandits to die in the assault.
1-G1's converted N-L58 Basilisk MFH rolled through the demolished gates a few minutes later, courtesy of a Minotaur Automata's phased plasma autocannons. Behind it, the four-thousand guards entered only to begin arresting anyone wearing armor.
1-G1's destination was the Countess's mansion, a grand building situated atop a small hill in the center of town.
A few minutes later, the vehicle was parked in the courtyard after breaking down the gates. 1-G1 along with 1-G2 and twenty guards exited the N-L58 Basilisk MFH before walking in an almost casual manner up to the doors, which were kicked in by two of the twenty guards.
The small group made their way through the opulent corridors for several minutes before they finally reached a set of double doors that, if what the O.S.I.I. spies said was correct, were the entrance to the Countess' throne room. Two guards once again kicked in the doors and were greeted by the sight of several very haggard, very tired-looking people, a group which included a petite brunette and a middle-aged man who were both injured.
"Everyone in this room who isn't us or the Countess is now a prisoner of war," 1-G1 announced in perfect latin, his hands clasped behind his back, "But before any of you are carted off to a POW camp, I have a message for Countess Marcia Formal."
1-G1 took out a sheet of paper stamped with the seal of Nyarlathotep, "'To the Countess of Italica, under Article CCLXX of the Document on Antarctian Military Principle. You Marcia Formal are officially stripped of your nobility, on the grounds that your domain has been annexed by the Antarctic Dominion as compensation for the Saderian Empire's unprovoked attack upon Antarctian soil. Sincerely, High-Pharaoh Nyarlathotep, Supreme and Eternal ruler of the Empire on Which the Suns Never Set.'"
A red-headed woman wearing a sort of circlet had turned the color of old grits by the time 1-G1 was done.
1-G1 put away the sheet of paper in front of the shocked people, "Alright, 1-G2, contact Nova Ankhis, we need a few medevacs and a paddy wagon."
"Yessir." 1-G2 saluted before leaving the room.
"And you," 1-G1 spoke, looking at the red-head, "Princess Piña Co Lada, I presume?"
"H-How do you know-," she started, her eyes widening.
"That isn't important at this moment," 1-G1 chuckled, "What is important are the two Kommissars back at Nova Ankhis who would absolutely love to have a chat with you."
/ / / / / / / /
Ⲇ-1 flipped a couple of switches on the dashboard in front of him as he carefully pulled the side-stick to the left, causing the ZT-88 Albatross he was piloting to turn.
"How far out are we?" Ⲇ-1 asked, slowly pushing the throttle forward, causing the bomber to accelerate to mach twenty-four.
"Not much further, bout a minute left if we maintain mach twenty-four," Ⲇ-2, his co-pilot and ultrascanner operator replied.
A minute later, the sleek silver ZT-88 Albatross's first set of bomb-bay doors slid open, revealing a Lockjaw Mk. II-type plasma-trionium bomb surrounded by smaller Ambassador-type plasma-trionium bombs. With the simple press of a button, the ordinance was released from its hardpoints before being pushed out by a jet of air.
A cluster of explosions all centered on the Main Temple in the enemy's capital city of Sadera. The sequence of booms seemed to last forever. They shattered windows, rocked houses, and destroyed part of the road to the Emperor's palace. As the dust settled, it became very clear that the once opulent temple was no more.
"Mission accomplished," Ⲇ-1 spoke into a mic.
"Not quite Plain Panther," Came from the speakers built into the cockpit.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to that call-sign," Ⲇ-1 said to Ⲇ-2, "What do you mean?"
"Some kind of dragon has been harassing our convoys near that forest-"
"You mean the one with that colony of elves living in it?" Ⲇ-1 interrupted.
"Yes, that one. Anyhow, the dragon has a nest up on top of a dormant volcano situated within the forest. You're going to bomb it."
"But wouldn't that cause an eruption?" Ⲇ-2 asked.
"It's a stratovolcano, the lava won't spread too far," they said, "Now are you clear on everything?"
"Affirmative," Ⲇ-1 replied.
"Good. Over and out."
Ⲇ-1 pulled the side-stick to the left, causing the bomber the swoop around, so it faced in the opposite direction.
Two minutes later, the Albatross's second set of bomb-bay doors slid open, revealing another Lockjaw Mk. II-type plasma-trionium bomb again surrounded by smaller Ambassador-type plasma-trionium bombs. Ⲇ-1 pressed a button, detaching the bombs from their hardpoints before a jet of air pushed them out.
For the second time that day, a series of explosions the likes of which had never before seen on the continent went off. In a tide of plasma infused trionium, the great seemingly unbeatable beast died. Its scales offered it some protection, but even they couldn't hold up against temperatures usually found in stars. Its scales melted, its limbs, head, and ultimately body were pulverized, leaving behind a burnt broken corpse lying still atop a scorched mountain.
/ / / / / / / /
PLEASE STANDBY FOR AN IMPERIAL NEWS UPDATE
A camera panned a wall-mounted symbol of the Imperial Department of Truth to the newscaster sitting behind a desk and holding a few sheets of paper.
"Good evening, today in another astounding victory, the Antarctian Imperial Guard captured the city of Italica, which was reportedly being sieged by forces from several of the Saderan Empire's vassal states. Imperial Department of Truth correspondent Wanda Morton is on the scene, Wanda?"
The camera cut to a middle-aged woman standing in front of a group of armored men being loaded into a Mi-Go VTOL transport and nine people being loaded onto a red cross-marked Tegnu Utility VTOL which immediately took off after they were secured.
"As you can see, Lewis, the Imperial Guard is currently in the process of loading POWs into transports, it is estimated that around two-hundred three have been captured, three of them have been injured and are being taken back to Nova Ankhis by VTOL."
"And the casualties?" The newscaster asked.
"Italica's civilians suffered horrendous losses, the current body count is close to fifty-five, including a woman whose severed head was thrown through a barricade towards her husband, six were injured and are currently being brought back to Nova Ankhis for medical treatment. As for the enemy, approximately six-hundred thirteen enemy soldiers were killed while taking the city. Back to you Lewis."
The camera cut back to the newscaster, who was staring at one of the sheets of paper.
"Sky Outlaw raids on Antarctian ships have escalated for the first time since twenty fifty-seven. They have now started attacking Star Liners heading through the region of space known as the Caelestis Nebula. Due to this Lord-Commodore Mochán has ordered Battlefleets MXXV, CDLXXV, LXXVII, and DCLIX to escort all civilian-operated ships through the Expanse and surrounding areas until the threat has been dealt with."
/ / / / / / / /
Piña Co Lada, Princess of the Saderan Empire, had found herself bound by a pair of metal restraints and led from the Countess' villa and into a metal horseless carriage which began to move extremely swiftly a minute after she was shoved into one of the chairs inside it.
She did not know what or where Nova Ankhis was. She could only assume it was some sort of prison. But apparently, two Kommissars, whatever they were, wanted to talk with her there.
She shuddered. Talking, that's what her father would say when he was going to have someone tortured.
She finally got her answer thirty minutes later as she stepped out of the metal carriage and found herself staring at the gate. It was even more immense than she was led to believe. There were things streaming out of it in a huge column, titanic metal monsters topped off with round domes out of which stuck tubes that had stripes running down their length which glowed lavender or orange, colossal metal carriages upon which sat metal monstrosities of all kinds, metal carriages either exactly like or in some way different to the one she had ridden in.
She stood rooted to the spot, her eyes wide, staring at these metal monsters that poured from the gate. How could the Empire possibly beat an enemy who utilized such monsters!
She was snapped out of her shock when she felt the enemy soldier give her a hard shove. The soldier spoke in an unfamiliar language and pointed at something. Turning her head, she was greeted by the sight of two oddly clothed figures who stood in front of a pitch-black version of one of those things she saw being carried on some of the colossal metal carriages. Those must be the Kommissars.
She was led over to the two Kommissars, and before she could do anything, one of them pulled out an odd black device and after that, she knew no more.
/ / / / / / / /
I, along with the Imperial Council, minus The Specter, sat at a grandiose dining table, covered in food being served and eaten off of Qing Dynasty Porcelain tableware. At one end of the opulent table, situated between Lord-Kommissar Eindriði and Minister Hegesipyle, was an unconscious Piña Co Lada whose ankles had been cuffed to the dining chair she sat on.
"Have four more VK-6s flown over major population centers. A few sonic booms should cause enough civil unrest to quiet the Russians," I spoke, twirling a sterling silver grand baroque table knife between my fingers. If I knew taking most of their territory and indirectly causing their government to collapse would bring me this much trouble, well, I still would've done it.
"What of the-." Grand Air Marshal 1 started before I cut him off.
"Ah! It seems our guest is stirring!" I spoke, subtly casting a translation ward over the room.
"W-Where am I?" Piña asked groggily, her eyes fluttering open. She looked around, taking in the luxurious dining hall until her eyes landed on me. She froze. It was understandable, seeing a ten-foot-tall talking corpse would send any mortal into shock.
I stuck a slice of fig foie gras through my mask's mouth slit with a fork. "Yes, yes, we'll get to that, but first do try the foie gras, it is truly delicious. Urshu!"
Urshu appeared out of nowhere as usual. "Yes, master?"
"Give my compliments to Pakhom. So far everything has been delectable."
"Yes, master," Urshu spoke before disappearing into a nearby shadow.
"Now what were you about to tell me, 1?" I asked, sipping from a glass of forty-year aged Koumeur Annata wine, the national drink of the Antarctic Dominion.
"Yes," Grand Air Marshal 1 cleared his throat, "About my proposal."
"Ah, of course, the holograms," I said, spearing a bit of spinach salad. "Are you thinking of pulling an RAF?"
"Well, yes, from what The Specter says, most of the Saderan Empire's peasantry isn't very happy with their rulers. So if we dropped hologram generators containing propaganda recordings, it's possible that we could win over most of the Empire's population." The Grand Air Marshal spoke.
"We could even drop boxes of food. My vatfacs aren't currently growing anything," Unnr added.
"What!" a feminine voice shouted.
I turned my head to look at the Princess. "Yes? Do you have something to contribute?"
She seemed shocked that I'd actually responded to her outburst, "W-Who are you? What are you?"
"I am Nyarlathotep, High-Pharaoh of Antarctic Dominion," I said, spreading my arms out wide, "And this is almost all the Imperial Council."
Piña blanched.
"As for your earlier question, you are currently sitting in the dining hall of the Castle East," I said, "You, Miss Co Lada, are going to be my guest for the remainder of the war, and the Saderan Empire."
I turned to Mochán, "And while we're on the subject, have you pinpointed the location of Miss Co Lada's homeworld, yet?"
"Yes milord," He said, pressing a button on the underside of the table, activating a hologram generator that made a map of the universe appear slightly above the table. "The planet is within a galaxy located here."
He pointed at a glowing red dot on the far side of the map. "It's approximately forty-five billion light-years from Odyssey Station."
"Good, good, now what of Operation Hocus Pocus?" I asked.
"All the necessary preparations have been made for the elimination. We are just awaiting your order, High-Pharaoh," High Executioner Æðelberht spoke in his regular monotone.
"The 765th is ready and waiting," Grand Air Marshal 1 added.
"E-Elimination?" Piña stuttered.
I ignored her, "Do it."
Æðelberht nodded, "Yes, my lord, it shall be done."
/ / / / / / / /
Imperial Elimination Bureau assassin U47, after finally getting the go-ahead from the High-Executioner, deactivated her chameleon unit and dropped from her spot on the ceiling. The assassin landed silently next to her target's bed. She drew her silenced gauss machine pistol and emptied an entire clip into the blonde-haired man.
U47 holstered her pistol and took out a one darnat coin which she slipped into the dead man's mouth.
She tapped the side of her skull shaped helmet, "Target, Diabo El Caesar, eliminated."
As this was happening, the four midnight-blue ZT-88 Albatrosses of the 765th Bomb Squadron were taxiing down the makeshift runway that had been built in Nova Ankhis. One by one they lifted off from the smoothed dirt and began to swiftly climb towards the stratosphere, reaching it a minute later.
1-Ϧ the leader of the 765th pressed a button in his cockpit, "All planes, accelerate to mach twelve."
Three acknowledgements came through his headset, and the four Albatrosses accelerated.
Four minutes later, they were nearing their destination.
"Open all bomb-bay doors," 1-Ϧ spoke as he pushed a button on the console.
On the underside of all four Albatrosses, four sets of bomb-bay doors slid open. A minute later, four simple presses of four simple buttons released hell on the city of Telta. Four-hundred sleek silver one-thousand pound T-17 Napalm bombs whistled downwards toward the unsuspecting city.
A second later, a series of gigantic explosions of fire lit up the night sky. The mass of napalm bombs created a colossal fire-storm that nearly engulfed the entire city.
1-Ϧ switched to a different frequency, "Mission accomplished."
/ / / / / / / /
Commodore 4528s log, date of entry, August 12th, 2081. Battlefleet LXXVII has been assigned to escort the Demeter, a cargo ship laden with items of luxury from all across the Dominion, through the Caelestis Nebula. It carries giant white truffles grown on the planet of Ulzuth, wine, almas caviar, beer, exotic fruits and vegetables, alien spices, the meat of alien livestock, luxury textiles, gems found only on certain planets, gold and other precious metals from the Dominion's mass-mining of asteroids. A truly colossal amount of those items and more are being transported in the Demeter. All has been quiet so far, but the fact we've had to stick to lightspeed factor (cd) so the Demeter, a ship that needs its Nephren drive's Lamarck Siphon replaced, can keep up with us, has the crews feeling uneasy. We could have made this journey in a few minutes. Instead, we're going to be traveling for nearly twenty-four hours.
4528 sat in his command chair on the bridge of an Azathoth-class ultra-battleship, the ADSS Uvhixi. As it and the other thirty-three ships that made up Battlefleet LXXVII surrounded the Demeter.
The Demeter was a C-822 Large-Capacity Freighter. These sixty-five thousand six-hundred sixteen foot long tube-shaped ships were the main cargo ships used by the Antarctian Shipping Company. They carried freight from starports in places as far away as the Triangulum Galaxy to any of the Dominion's many worlds.
"Ships coming out of hyperspace off starboard!" 2-Q spoke.
"Red alert, 14-Q, contact the Demeter, tell them to divert their course away from us," 4528 ordered as the bridge's lighting changed to red, "10-Q, target the incoming ships with our nucleonic beams."
Ten large egg-shaped ships appeared in a flash of bright light and immediately started firing laser cannons at the Battlefleet.
"Yeah, those are Sky Outlaws alright," 4528 noted, "Fire nucleonic beams one, two, and three."
Three great streaks of bright orange energy shot from different spots on the Ultra-Battleship. They all converged seconds later on one of the Sky Outlaw ships, which, after a couple seconds, disintegrated into nothing.
Beams of bright green energy shot from the Battlefleet's second Azathoth-class Ultra-Battleship. The gamma-ray lasers pierced through one of the enemy ship's shields. Cutting into the ship on the other side, which ultimately exploded.
"Fire nucleonic beams one, two, three, and four on that ship!"
Four beams of orange energy converged on the enemy ship, disintegrating it in less than two seconds.
"Now fire the conversion beam on that group of them!" 4528 ordered.
From the top of the Ultra-Battleship, a bright white beam of energy streaked towards the group of Sky Outlaw ships. As it hit one, it turned several milligrams of the ship into antimatter. This resulted in a titanic explosion that destroyed the remaining Sky Outlaws.
4528 slumped into his chair, "14-Q, contact the Demeter."
/ / / / / / / /
My two bore big game rifle kicked against my shoulder with the force of a raging Gug. With a puff of black smoke and a boom, the thing I was aiming at, a giant centipede-like creature slumped to the strangely blue-tinted grass.
Shouldering the huge rifle, I began walking towards the now dead beast. It was an odd-looking thing, its body was segmented like that of a centipede, its legs numbered in the hundreds and were long and bony, the thing's head was long and surrounded by a protection of chitinous plates, and its face, if one could call it that, was marked with six blue eyes.
"This definitely shall be my new safari planet," I spoke, gazing upon the gigantic corpse. Now where the hell was I going to put this thing?
"My lord?" One of my servants asked from behind me.
"Yes, Bektmut?" I replied, cleaning my pince-nez glasses.
"We have a bit of a problem," the servant said, "Your guest has been kidnapped by those idiots who keep trying to poison you."
"Send some Kommissars 'round their base, she's probably there," I replied dismissively, "And tell Urshu that I need some servants to come and taxidermy this."
"Of course, my lord," Bektmut said, disappearing into nothing.
"Oh, look at that beast!" I spoke excitedly, once again taking aim. With a great bang, a reptilian creature with bat-like wings dropped out of the sky.
/ / / / / / / /
Piña Co Lada awoke in a dingy room, surrounded by a group of dirty-looking people wearing clothes that looked to have been made out of several outfits stitched together haphazardly. In one corner of the room were several more of them. They appeared to be plugged into a large metal box that flashed with an orange light every few minutes.
"W-Where am I?" Piña groaned.
"You are in our super secret base that is hidden from all but us!" A man who looked more metal than man spoke.
"We're the rebellion!" A shabby-looking man said.
"What?" the princess asked.
Suddenly a pair of doors on the far side of the room burst open with a deluge of wind carrying red dust, and four figures wearing peaked caps and fur-collared overcoats strolled in, Kommissars.
"Kegen! Where are you? We'd like to have a chat with you!" One of them spoke.
What looked like a green tube hovered over to the four figures. Without warning, the tip of it split open and a human head rose from within.
"What do you want?" The head spoke in a raspy voice.
"You kidnapped the High-Pharaoh's guest Kegen."
"Oh, we did? I don't see anything in my memory banks-" The head started.
"Don't give me that 'memory banks' bullshit Kegen, we can see her right over there," One spoke, "Listen Kegen, I don't like you, the Imperial State Security Agency doesn't like you, the only reason your little club hasn't been shut down is because the High-Pharaoh finds you amusing."
The Kommissar suddenly drew a black device, pointed it at the princess and she knew no more.
Please Stay Tuned For the Next Action Chapter of The Bored Outer God II: Through the Gate!
AN: So this is it, the second part of Nyarlathotep's adventures. I can't think of anything to say, so I hope you like it!