You know how ownership works...

All the Noble Houses of the Galaxy possessed massive space stations that served as their homes and main base of operations.

But none were as grand as the Royal Space Station, the Imperial City. A truly massive station, it was designed with different architectural styles, and contained numerous sections, form libraries to barracks to labs to dining halls to pleasure rooms to even massive arenas for bloodsport.

Imperial City, once upon a time, had been a simple refueling station built in the aftermath of the Long Night. Then it had been a safe port for the first few traders and explorers trying to move into the newly empty space lanes.

Then a few thousand years ago the Valaryans invested in it as a military outpost and sector governor's residence. That ended with the Great Doom.

That wasn't the end of Imperial City, strategically placed by all the richest trading lanes and orbiting a cluster of planets with high spice resources; several dynasties spent blood and treasure turning it into the grand city it is today.

And now, it was the head of the Galaxy, and the personal lair of the High King himself, King K. Rool. Also occupying it were his inner circle, his legions of Kremlings, Zingers, Neckys, Gnawtys, and the dreaded Space Marines, as well as various servants.

As for the crocodile himself...

"Is there any reason in particular that the East Pool hall has been painted yellow?" asked the obese crocodile with barely concealed anger. "Is there any good reason my favorite pool room is now blinding yellow from walls to ceiling?"

Reilius Clover had an answer, "An unfortunate side effect of an experiment with nonotechnology, my lord. Painters will restore the room by day's end."

"Well, hot dawg," chuckled a dice headed humanoid, "Looks like someone isn't as smart as they think they are."

Relius ignored him as he spoke to the King. "As I said, sometimes scientific progress has its...complications. You have my most sincerest apologies."

K. Rool nodded. "Hmm, well, never mind. Right now we have more important matters to attend to. Zeal and Koopa should be arriving any moment soon."

Relius bowed, "Lord, you'll be happy to know that Dr. Strange has arrived to oversee security for Queen Zeal, and that she will be arriving in the hour on her cruiser."

King Dice cut in, eager for his king's favour, "Meanwhile, Sombra is likewise overseeing security for Koopa while Bowser Junior enjoys the gambling facilities in the gold level."

K. Rool nodded, a smile returning to him. "Good, good. Have them all meet me in my throne room once all are here, and make sure the others of our circle are gathered as well. Please bring refreshments and canape. My followers have invested in me, trusted in me and it is only fair that they see the fruits of their investment," K. Rool rewarded his followers, though he never truly trusted them.

King Dice smirked, "I'll see to it that everyone is comfortable and off their guard."

K. Rool chuckled. "Now, now, we're not killing them. They are highly valuable allies. Especially with the coming events."

"Indeed." Another member of K. Rool's circle, Krux, came striding from a corridor. The Beastmaster, the masked, cloaked figure was responsible for the use of the various mighty beasts under royal command...and he took his job seriously and coldly. "When they arrive, I would like to personally thank Queen Zeal for the live capture of a Xenomorph Wyvern. To say nothing of her extraction of Salmonid research and splicing from the Skaven Clan Molder," the robed beast master uttered evenly.

"Quite the fine piece to your collection," the King chuckled. "Had any luck in controlling the monster yet?"

"Slowly, but yes." Krux confirmed. "Still mauls some of the Gnawty's servants, but the beast seems to respond to me in some sense."

"Good." K. Rool smirked. "Take the time you need...we have it."

The gathering was interrupted by a man in a cape, with a fancy mustache teleporting into the room. Dr. Stephen Strange took a knee and knelt before the king. "Your majesty, your security lives up to its reputation. As of now, Queen Zeal is docking at a minor shipping port on the station."

K. Rool nodded as he turned to Dice. "See to it that the Koopas are informed, and have them escorted to our meeting location."

"At once, sire." Dice saluted, before leaving to do his job. "I'll tell Koopa Junior that the poker girls are going on break," he grinned, "That should pull him away from gambling for a hot minute."

"Hola Hermanas!" shouted the distinct woman in lavender, "Don't start the party without Sombra and her sexy lord Koopa! He's docking now!" Eccentric as always, Sombra always knew how to draw attention...which belied her almost godlike skin as a hacker. Clearly Bowser knew how to pick them. Sombra was a far cry from the taciturn Hitman or the nearly animalistic Celgane, but she got the job done. And she could be stealthy when she wanted to be.

"Bow, you shits!" Cried a blue haired woman in robes, "Queen Zeal is here!"

Obviously Queen Zeal had been having a shitty day, so K. Rool was willing to cut her some slack to keep her exemplary magic skills on his side. "Ah, the matriarch of House Zeal, Matriarch of Antiquity and my favorite spell caster."

The Queen smirked, "At least someone knows how to treat a lady, my lord."

Queen Zeal, an expert sorceress, was known by many to be an arrogant and haughty woman, and one few wished to cross. She controlled much of the magical guild in the galaxy, and would not share secrets easily.

Behind her, her two children followed, Schala and Janus.

Schala, in stark contrast to her mother, was gentle, kind, and demure young woman, always hoping to help those in need. Beautiful and lovely, she was beloved by many.

Her younger brother Janus, though, was an odd one. Intelligent for his age, he was also quite cold and aloof for a young kid.

It was K. Rool's sincere hope to use the power of magic as a trump card against the Tyranid hordes and the heavily armored but unintelligent Orks. If push came to shove, he hoped that the Queen's children could be loyal and steadfast allies to him, turning their magical talents against the enemies of the crown and being rewarded for it as part of the new fascist order.

More than that, Simon and Dr. Strange were deathly loyal to the Zeal heirs. Well, Simon always hid it thanks to the fact for the most part he was a HUGE jerk, but still, he had some scruples, and loyalty to the children was one of them.

House Zeal had the talent with magic, House Koopa had the ruthlessness and the industrial output to make K. Rool's dreams a reality. And speaking of which, here they were now.

"What did I tell you about gambling? It's all rigged!" Bowser shouted at his son, Bowser Junior.

"I was winning, I was hot, I could feel it!" his son protested.

"Enough of that!" Bowser snapped, "Bow to your king!"

All the family members bowed to the Supreme King, who simply smiled. "Now, now, let's not be all formal. We're all friends here."

K. Rool, when needed, could turn up a polite facade to easier communicate with people...and mess with them.

Serving robots came in bearing drinks and food, tailored specifically in the kitchens to the personal tastes of each guest, right down to Sombra's choice of tomales in banana leaves. There were also Space Marines standing guard by the doors outside in case anything went wrong. Those marines were less insane and bloodthirsty than Gregor Clegane; which wasn't saying much.

All were now in the throne room, feating at a table, ready to discuss events...and upcoming plans.

"So, I take it you all are doing well?" K. Rool asked smoothly, letting his meat dish savor on his tongue.

"The Damn Yautja keep raiding my ammo depots, but the weapons factories are online," Bowser reported, "More than that, we're turning out shipboard plasma cannons with gyroscopic subspace sights and targeting systems."

"And we're building more defense stations and space mine fields than old Valarya!" Bowser Jr. proudly announced.

"Not to mention," Bowser went on. "That Pandora is proving to be a prime place for recruitment. Sure, a lot of those convicts are insane, but damn, do they know how to use weapons!"

"And how is Zebes going for you?" Relius asked.

Bowser shrugged, "It's a shit-hole. It's full of death, radiation, hungry Metroids and worse. It's the perfect place to raise an army. More than that, the underground Brinstar, are the perfect place to build fortresses. As it stands those forts we've build underground could last a ten year siege and an orbit bombardment for twice as long."

"And we've got a new shipment of captured Metroids for you, Mr. Mad Scientists," Bowser Jr. said to Relius.

"Interesting..." Relius gave a slight smile. The Metroids...ancient bioweapons from a civilization lost...this was always useful.

"And you, Zeal?" K. Rool turned to the blue-haired woman. "Things going well."

Zeal smirked. "Wyveria has been proving profitable. Not just a good place for minerals and plants, the wildlife there makes it superb training grounds for hunters. It helps that the large amount of human sacrifice and satanic cults in the prison system are generating massive amounts of magic energy," The Queen seemed giddy about the revelation. "The planet is a den of violence, the darkness and anger of the environment taints the living things there, which makes them act out and perpetuate the death and violence."

"I've been able to raise armies of zombies capable of complex tactics and marksmanship," her son supplied in an aloof tone.

Schala fought the urge to be sick, and spoke up. "In addition, the various monsters there are resources onto themselves, their body parts successful for crafting weapons and armor."

"Ah, yes." Zeal smiled. "And the best comes from the Elder Dragons."

'Elder Dragon' was a taxonomy on Wyveria, given to creatures of overwhelming power, to the extent they were called living natural disasters. Only the best could face them, and could be even be seen as a qualifying test to join the Queen's elite fighters...assuming they survived.

"More than that," the queen announced gleeefully, "the purple spice is helping us incubate elder dragon eggs without the presence of the mother. It's a new age in breeding war beasts!"

Zeal's daughter winced, the majestic greater dragons reduced to steeds in the future. Even more worrisome was the fact they they could be used as war beasts: A single Elder Dragon had enough power to take down a well armed legion of soldiers, and could even kill a Space Marine.

That was why K. Rool was courting Zeal and her House. Besides her appetite for cruelty and violence, her dragons, once fully mature, could give his armies the kind of numbers he needed to hold territory, not just conquer it. A sky full of dragons was a potent symbol of dominance.

"And what of the Yautja on Wyvernia?" the King inquired.

Queen Zeal's expression turned dark.

"Like moths to a flame." She stated bluntly. "They see it as the ultimate 'game reserve', hunting both soldiers and beast alike. At least they don't harass the convoys as they go from settlement to settlement."

"Well, there's that." K. Rool nodded. "And what of Mira?"

"Well," Schala began. "We managed to develop a large settlement there, and the resources regenerate rapidly...but the wildlife still proves to be highly dangerous."

Indeed, Mira was a planet noted for five large and diverse continents, each full of different beasts and hazards. From pack hunters to mammoth rampagers to high cliffs to volcanoes.

"The alien coalition, the Ganglion. were a problem at first, but now they give us a chance to test out our penal legions," Queen Zeal elaborated. "Convicts are given grenades and knives and ordered to charge Ganglion front lines. Those who survive are given a gun and a less suicidal mission. Those who survive enough missions have the chance to join my house's elite armies. Those who refuse to fight are executed."

"New Los Angeles is the main capital," Dr. Strange elaborated after his queen. "Thus far the City's industrial output is on the rise, as is the production of farmland in the fertile regions."

"Good, Good." K. Rool nodded. "Glad to hear you are all doing so well." He pressed a button nearby, allowing a holographic map of the galaxy to appear. Using a remote, he began to zoom in on his sector, then zoomed in on an arid planet.

"This is not a Death World, as it is rather standard. Ah, but it was a prime location to develop the Black Mesa Research Facility." He looked as his comrades. "You all remember was it is?"

Bowser nodded, knowing more than he let on. "A physics research facility, at least to the public. There was supposed to be heavy weapons and biological weapons research there,"

"A real Area 51 type place," Bowser Jr. quipped.

"Yes, the researchers actually live there as well." K. Rool went on. "Always researching, but they have places of leisure as well."

"Gotta Get our gambling in!" King Dice sang like he was doing a paid advertisement. "Scientists need a bit of blackjack and roulette to unwind; especially when they're fusing actual demons with war machines "

"Gambling?" Schala questioned.

"Ah, yes, the entertainment of the ages!" Dice grinned. "Why, we even have a planet that is one giant casino! Just like New Vegas!" King Dice became mostalgic. "Nothing but wasteland, then we sunk a fortune into a new casino; bigger and swankier than anywhere else." He growled, "Could have fortune without any rules or laws governing what people could bet on. Then Duke Nukem and his barbarian friends blew it all up. They didn't like the gladiator rings, too rich for their blood."

"Their loss." Bowser stated, smirking. "Always enjoy pit fights...especially when Riptor decided to fight in them." He was, of course, referring to the only female member of K. Rool's circle.

Riptor, proof that often the female of the species is the more lethal. A mix of human and saurian DNA, she combined human intellect with raptor ferocity. K Rool bought her at great expense from a shady corporation who raked in big bucks on an illegal fighting tournament they sponsored every year. Serving as a brutal enforcer and fighter, she followed K. Rool without question. She earned her place.

K. Rool smiled as he zoomed in on another planet. "Death world Stygia," he proudly announced, "Former vacation world, amazingly. That changed when a slave revolt shut down the planetary radiation shields." The screen depicted a tropical world with ruined hotels and beaches. "Now it's run amok with cannibal prison gangs, drug runners and regeneration mutants. And don't forget the man eating plants and deadly lightning storms "

"Always amazing how fast things fall apart." Sombra quipped, eyes rolling in amusement.

K. Rool laughed, "When the resort corporation declared bankruptcy, I bought the planet for a pittance. And the best part is the man eating plants can be processed to make dozens of narcotic drugs. To say nothing of the spice reserves found in the expansive cave network."

Bowser could not help but laugh. "Reminds me of a time some yahoos tried to use Pandora plants to make herbal cigars. Died from massive internal bleeding, dumb bastards!"

"Oh, my." Zeal crooned. "Some people would do anything for a fix, even if it defies all common sense."

"The addictive impulse is a powerful impulse in most thinking animals," Relius interjected clinically. "Most pleasure is irrational, but in the past, drugs, alcohol and entertainment helped secure empires as much as force of arms."

"Bread and circuses," laughed King Dice. "Vallaryan style!"

"Amen to that!" Bowser Jr. laughed, his grin wide as he spoke. "Even if it kills them all in the end."

K. Rool simply smiled and zoomed in on another Death World. This was a huge jungle. "Death World Jumanji," K. Rool said fondly, "Home of the Space Marines. And your generous contributions have greatly allowed the expansion of their ranks."

"Thank our increase of red spice," Sombra chuckled, "Jumanji is also a good place to send the craziest of the crazy."

"Oh, yes." K. Rool confirmed. "Dangers all about. Huge mosquitoes and spiders, vicious monkeys, savage lions, stampeding beasts, carnivorous flora...and those you can't even see..." He grinned like a wolf. "In the days before the Long Night, space was lawless." K. Rool exposited fondly, "back then deep space traders had something called jungle justice. If you committed a crime, you were thrown into the surface of Jumanji. If you died, it was the will of the gods."

"Then the gods must have been harsh back then." Janus snarked, a dark smile on his face.

"Exactly, my boy." K. Rool confirmed. "Few survived the infinite horrors of the jungle… and then there are some who thrive in the jungle," K. Rool went on. "The darkness feeds their rage, their rage feeds the darkness in an endless cycle. My own assassin Agent 47 survived for 9 months in the jungle with nothing but a handgun and one clip of ammunition. Killed my then current hit man, Van Pelt, but hey, that's progress for you." K. Rool shrugged.

"Indeed." Zeal noted. "And one must keep up with it at all times, or perish in the unforgiving galaxy."

"47 sabotaged Van Pelt's ammunition," Relius clarifies. "He was a better sniper, but 47 exploited his preferred killing style."

"The way of the assassin." K. Rool smirked. "Always know your opponents."

"Cheating is the most efficient way to win," Relius conceded.

K Rool pulled up a new screen, "More than that, the rings around Jumanji are proving an ideal construction ground for a new shipyard."

"More ships?" Schala questioned.

"Why, yes, my dear." K. Rool confirmed. "We must always be ready for battle against the hostile, as well as more ships for trade. Speaking of ships..." He brought up another planet. "This Death World, Xen, has proven to be useful in ship resources. Tyranid bio-ships have the potential to outnumber our navy nearly thirty to one in an ideal situation. Yatjua blockade runners and stealth ships run circles around our fighter patrols," K. Rool elaborated. "The Guild is too decentralized to regulate or rely on. What Xen offers is a low gravity environment ideal for safe and cheap ship construction as well as an environment to train for zero g and ship to ship combat."

"Not to mention it is not so much of a planet than it is a colony of distinct asteroids." Relius added.

"True, true." K. Rool nodded. "Allows is to specialize in certain parts." He brought up another planet. "LV 426, Home of history's first recorded Xenomorph attack," silence fell across the room.

The king went on, "An airless hellhole, full of thousands of kilometers of tunnel. What this world offers us more than anything is ancient technology. Every year prospectors lose their lives looking for Valaryian tech or pre long night machinery. Xenomorphs stalk the tunnels, and those who let their guard down lose their lives." He smirked. "In comparison, my favorite Death World is paradise...or not." He brought up Subnautica. "A water world, Home to an artificially created aquatic ecosystem." The King demonstrates. "Aside from deadly plagues and gigantic carnivorous sea life, the world is rich with alien ruins. Known as the Precursors they developed biological weapons ages ago in their war against the Valaryans."

"And now they're gone." Zeal stated.

"Indeed." K. Rool confirmed. "Ah, but they left us a World of bounties and resources. We even managed to build research bases in select locations. But, of course, the dangers of dangerous fauna remains...as do the depths themselves."

"The Sea Emperor in particular is a hindrance to fishing and mining operations." Relius stated, "Thousands of years old, it has resisted every effort to kill it by nearly every off world visitor. Currently we are researching the possibility of transplanting the species to other water worlds."

K. Rool nodded as he zoomed out back to the galaxy. "In deed, all our worlds, Death, Service, Civilized, and more, all serve their purposes to our people...and now, things are about to change. As things stand, the Galaxy is poised for change of the catastrophic sort." The King orated, "it's tempting to only focus on one problem at a time or problems in our own back yard but that won't be enough. As of now I am inviting you to all be part of the Inperium Galactica. A true, United Space nation with one language, one government and one law. Against us are the border Houses, like the Stark's; clinging to their rat infested stations and ancient honor."

"I'm in." Bowser confirmed.

"As am I." Zeal added. "But do tell me what is your plan with Lord Stark."

"Why, make him my Hand, of course." K. Rool grinned.

Schala felt ill as she raised hands with her mother. The King was ruthless and his servants more than. But what choice did they have?

The feudal nature of the galaxy meant that pirates, plagues and invasions could go unchecked for years. The galaxy only united against Hive Fleet Gorgon when the old king threatened his space marines upon the noble houses.

Without unity the Hive Fleet had consumed more worlds and armies than it could have.

The kings' plan was the only way forward, to a secure, safe galaxy for decent people

Then Bowser spoke up. "You wanna make Stark your hand? Why?" He looked very confused at this. K. Rool did not like the Starks, so why offer this?

"Do you know anything about wolf hunting?" asked K. Rool in a most sadistic voice

"Well, all types of known wolves do tend to hunt in packs, never alone." Bowser Jr. stated. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything." K. Rool chuckled. "Together the pack thrives...alone, they are easy pickings."

"Desert wolves on New Vegas can bring down death claws," Relius explained. "On Jumanji wolves fear old lion prides. The preferred method is Ariel hunting. In a more literal sense, this position would isolate Ned Stark from his best advisors and bodyguards. Not to mention throw his family into turmoil before his son Robb can finish his training."

"Robb Stark." Zeal smirked. "Met him once. Stupid boy. Always trying to live up the ideal of honors. But the Galaxy as a whole does not allow for such simpering. You have to do whatever it takes to survive."

"Don't underestimate the boy," said King Dice with uncharacteristic hate in his voice. "He's as straight as an arrow and strong as the bow that fired it. If you want to beat him or his dad, you can't do it in a straight fight."

"Indeed." K. Rool said. "We must be patient, unstained how they all tick before we can strike. Recklessly charging in will get us nowhere." The Kings expression grew angry, "The worst possible outcome would be if Winterfell and their bannermen declares independence. As much as I desire a unified nation state, so does Ned Stark and his father before him. We could be looking at a kingdom with two capitals. Two Kings. King in the North and the Imperium King."

"A nation divided." Zeal noted, sipping some wine. "That'll cause issues."

"Indeed." K. Rool noted. "But I have been taking some steps to ensure unity under my rule. I have been communicating with the Guild...and as matter of fact..."

It was that moment Mr. Dark, the cloaked wizard of the court, came teleporting in. "Your Grace, a Guild Trade ship, carrying representatives, in approaching, as you had hoped."

"I love Treasure Knight," said Sombra, hacking into the docking records. "The Iron Whale is the best stealth ship in the galaxy. And he's been rejected for years to join the Guilds ruling council."

"Because he likes to hoard a bit too much for himself." Bowser said in a deadpan tone.

K. Rool ignored them as he spoke to Dark. "Make sure they come here once ready."

On cue, a large figure in deep space diving armour stomped into the throne room, trailed by a couple of robotic bodyguards.

The large figure began to speak in Morse code or something until he adjusted the knobs on his suit

"You summoned us?" Treasure Knight asked.

"I did, yes." K. Rool confirmed. "Is it only you for now?"

"It's an honor, your majesty," said Treasure Knight, "I'm here answering your call when I could be mining precious stones, shipping radioactive fuel or stripping wrecked ships."

"After today, you'll have a brighter future than being the Guilds underpaid enforcement agent" said K. Rool. "I know you were attacked by Skaven stealth fighters on your way here. I'll happily pay for repairs."

"Good to hear. More than that fool Tamatoa will pay." Treasure Knight replied as he took a seat of his own, his armored frame hiding his true body.

"We can imagine your surprise when you found out Tamatoa had been looting your safe houses and blaming it on pirates." King Dice said coyly.

"Revenge was my true price," Treasure knight admitted, shaking with rage in his armor. "Besides, you'll need my help nationalizing the Guild. I know the captains and I helped set up the Guild Credit Union and Bank."

"Not to mention many of those in the Guild wish to increase their power base as well." K. Rool added.

"True." Treasure Knight thought of Roodaka, a Vortex and one of the highest ranking members of the Guild. Her species was a female dominated race, coming form the Industry World Xia, a world dedicated to weapon manufacture. It was Roodaka who vouched for Treasure Knight to become a captain. Before that he broke his back with deep space salvage and mercenary work that paid pennies.

Roodaka was good and one of the few that Treasure Knight would call friend. She never took easy jobs, wasn't afraid to take risks and knew how to gamble wisely. Not to mention her connections on Xia guaranteed access to weapons from interplanetary siege guns to personal hunting weapons.

And very few could actually call Roodaka a 'friend': Underneath that usually pleasant attitude was a vicious and sadistic manipulator who only respected those who had what it took to survive in a harsh, unforgiving galaxy. And those who did not earn her respect...well, she liked to use her spinner to mutate people for fun.

It was one of her trade secrets. She'd long ago figured out how to use radiation to mutate humans into ghouls, like those found on New Vegas. And she'd even synthesized the Forced Evolutionary virus to create giant insects, super mutants and worse.

Rumors abounded that she'd even learned or stolen dark magic from the Skaven,

Indeed, her dark and backstabbing nature is what allowed her to climb the ranks of the Guild, often a dog-eat-dog organization.

And maybe that was part of the larger problem. For years the Guild had made money hand over fist by passing all risk and responsibilities to their captains; letting them enjoy business from noble houses, commoners and criminals alike.

But the rise of Tamatoa was proof of the rot. He got rich not by being a good captain but by killing anyone who stood in his way and take over guild leadership.

Now more and more captains were trying to join the inner circle instead of ship, work and earn.

But that was not of K. Rool's concern right now.

"As you are all aware, I seek to build unifying rule." He spoke to Treasure Knight. "But the Starks have the possibility of doing the same, leaving the galaxy divided with two kings. And the the Starks are quite popular with several houses, I might add."

"While the Stark's don't have any sizeable military fleet, they do have a large merchant navy which has allowed them the money and resources to field an army larger than normal for a house their size," Relius elaborated . "It started when the late Lord Rickon established merchant jobs for retired soldiers and pilots after the Rage wars of his youth. His son Ned only expanded the program after the Hive Fleet Gorgon war."

"Not to mention all the Death Worlds they posses, training amplitude of powerful soldiers, like those Lizardmen of Lustria. Dangerous creatures right there." He chuckled. "Tear your limb from limb with their bare claws if they can."

"We are aware of Ned Stark's progress." Treasure Knight said dryly. "But I did not simply come to speak of Ned."

"The Starks have the fleet and the army," said King R. Rool. "But House Dreemur has pioneered new methods of interhouse cooperation. They've taken over food production in the sector and showed small communities and nomadic space based cultures better ways to farm. It's only because of their influence that the Stark Merchant navy can reach as far and wide as it can."

"And as dangerous the Gourmet World is," Treasure Knight added. "The flora and fauna there are the best sources of food in the galaxy. We cannot risk losing it. The same with House Nui, with their skill in technological advancements and renewable energy sources."

"Both these houses have resources that House Stark could utilize in an independent move. House Nui is notoriously politically neutral, but their desire for peace may mean they side with the Starks," K. Rool explained. "Killing Ned Stark in isolation would only galvanize them into action against us. The real end goal is to take out Ned Stark and all of the pawns who support him; it's the felling of a mighty tree, not the snapping of a twig."

"Roodaka is our best bet to allying ourselves with House Nui," Relius elaborated, "She is one of the claimants to the throne in case the current leadership is disposed of."

"Aye, but first you must show her you are worthy of her time." Treasure Knight replied. "But if you do, she will be happy to aid you...unlike that bumbling bear, Moneybags." Treasure knight seethed. "The bear who thought it would be a good idea to bring on Euron Grayjoy as security because he charged less. The trail of destruction he left behind was too big and bloody for even the guild to hide from. In the end, I had to kill Euron without any extra compensation."

At least, Euron was THOUGHT to be dead, but the truth was his body was never found after the fire fight. But assuming no one could survive such a fearsome attack, well, they decided to write him off as dead.

Treasure Knight had used a lot of explosives, but no body was ever recovered from the wreckage of Euron's ship. "To move Moneybags, you'll need cash; he'll work for the highest bidder without any regard to long term gain or loyalty."

"Oh he'll give us a discount when I send Ser Clegane to have a talk with him," K. Rool chuckled. "And if that doesn't work, Agent 47 can be very persuasive."

"I'm sure they will be." Treasure Knight chuckled. "Any other business you wish to discuss?"

"I just wanted to let you know that once everything goes forward, the Guild will have a monopoly on all civilian space travel. My Space Marines will maintain their own navy, but everyone else will go through your organization," K. Rool promised. "Does this suit you?"

Treasure Knight nodded as he stood up. "That sounds quite fair. Thank you for your time." He turned to go and took a few steps before he stopped. "Oh, I believe I should mention some...rumors some trade ships have been muttering about."

"Rumors?" K. Rool questioned.

"Something about a great golden dragon, with three heads and hideous cackle." Treasure Knight replied.

Relius elaborated, "Another so called Kaiju. The search for safer shipping lanes increasingly takes ships through their territory. It will be dealt with."

The look of anger on K Rool's face said a different story .

Those types of creatures...no one really were sure what they were. Apparently some theories portrayed them as some god-like beings, of even savage nature given form.

Relius had a theory that Kaiju were in fact living fossils, creatures who'd gone from being living beings to living nuclear reactors. That some animal somewhere had gone to a naturally occurring nuclear reactor and had its DNA wiped clean by high radiation, only to be brought back as heavy metals and other substances replaced the fragile carbon based DNA and other structures.

Spice, in his mind, was the key, that allowed an organism to go from simple chemical reactions to advanced nuclear or even anti-matter annihilation based reactions; like so called King Ghidorah.

It was a theory of course, but it helped to explain why so many Kaiju had vast stockpiles at the hart of their territory.

But for now, they keep an eye for things...and make sure they didn't get too involved with the conflict.

"I'll take my leave then." Treasure Knight turned, and he was soon gone from the room.
"As you can see, we have everything to gain and even more to lose," K. Rool explained in a solemn tone. "As it stands now, our nation is a house divided. Every day, monsters from space who once prowled the edges of the star maps are now eating their way to the center. Corporate powerhouses shirk their taxes and responsibilities to national defense. What we do will be remembered even after the Long night and the Valaryans are long forgotten. This is the birth of a nation!"

All gathered raised this cups in toast to this claim.

The King turned to Relius, "My guests deserve some entertainment. Bring out Riptor and a few fresh victims."

Bowser grinned at the prospect.

As if one cue, the group got out of their seats and walked out the throne room.

The arena awaited.

Riptor roared and shredded a practice dummy with her fore claws. Actually the "dummy" was a starving hunting dog that came up to most human's shoulders.

The dog with jaws the size of an alligator's whimpered as Riptor tore its guts out. the human dinosaur hybrid finished by tearing the dog's head off with her teeth.

Riptor spat it away and looked to the arena gates. She liked the gladiator arena because it gave her room to show her stuff. Clegane was brutal, but he lacked the creativity and sadism that Riptor brought to the table.

And the arena...oh, yes, it brought many to it, all willing to see both exotic dangerous animals and the bloodsports that resulted. K. Rool had game hosted today, and not only were some foolish prisoners 'participating', but very strong beasts were in for today.

The Arena was another crucial part of K. Rool's future fascist state. It would entertain the nobles and commoners alike, and show people what happens to slaves, the underclasses and prisoners of war.

Riptor was used to this, to Ultratech's old tournament. This promised to be entertaining. Supposedly there would be rat ogres here, captured Lizardmen and even a Yautja Bad Blood. And maybe even disgraced individuals who had joined in one last grab for glory.

Only time would tell, and the crowd began to gather,

Each gladiator event was huge. Tickets cost a fortune and live streaming wasn't cheap either. To say nothing of how much the betting brought in.

For the gladiator wearing a kraken like mask. this was exactly where he wanted to be.

He observed the surrounding audience, all cheering and ready to see the blood spill, and how creatively people would die today.

The arena featured gravity catapults which could either propel a gladiator to one of the arenas higher floors or splatter them if they got the angle wrong.

Trap doors in the sand could unleash dangerous beasts or robotic killing machines.

Armed with his axe, the kraken warrior was eager to face the famous Riptor.

Up in the deluxe balcony, K. Rool, his circle, and all his guests were sitting, having the best seat in the house.

Then, a Kremling announcer began to speak, his voice broadcasted throughout the area.

"Ladies and lords, this is the Arena! Provided by none other than your generous King K. Rool! Tonight we have an excellent selection of death row inmates and ferocious monsters!"

The kraken smiled under his mask.

"And here we have a special guest, known as the 'Kraken'!" The Kremling went on as he began to highlight the event. "He will be just one of the many fighters today, taking on both dangerous races and savage beasties!"

Kraken smiled. Unlike many others, he was here voluntarily. When enough people were dead, he would claim his true prize.

The announcer went in, "Also in is the notorious Yautja Bad Blood , Scar!"

Wrapped in chains, the tall Yautja with worn out equipment and brutal scars was unreadable, and yet, hatred was in its posture. Once loose, it would murder the closest thing to it. Only time was needed...

"And in the next corner, a full-grown Kroxigor!" All eyes turned at the hulking Lizardman.

The Kroxigor glanced around with dull golden eyes. Its crocodile like jaws gaping to regulate its cold blooded body temperature. Towering above even the Yautja bad blood, the Lizardmen used muscular beasts like this as both construction equipment and line breaking military units.

Dragging behind the Kroxigor was a massive bronzium hammer, chained to its waist. in a moment, it would remember that hammer and use it. Until then, it simply glared at its surroundings...the roar of the crowd pounded in its head.

The Kroxigor would be relatively docile until attacked, unlike the Rat ogres.

Three of the beasts captured or left over from Skaven invasions, each one was meaner, uglier and smellier than the last. The three mutated Skaven snarled and pulled at their chains, their cybernetic weapons temporarily offline. One wielded a flame thrower, the other chainsaws for hands and the last with a warp lighning cannon build into its right arm.

"And now that we see our fighters, let's meet the beasties!" Cages were revealed, each contained large animals.

"First off is the Galala Gator!" A huge reptilian beast, 18 meters long and 13 tons, with eight legs, red skin, and an enormous mouth a razor-sharp teeth.

"Hailing from the world of Ark, the Gigantopithicus!" the large, ape like creature howled with rage as the shock collar it wore went into overdrive, getting it ready for the fight.

"This bad boy can be your fibre gathering, helmet wearing, human tossing buddy for life it if survives the fight!" the announcer laughed.

Haughty laughter could be heard from the stands as well as the announcer went on. "In addition, hailing from the icy regions in Wyveria, a Barioth!"

A large, white create, resembling a cross between a wyvern and a sabretooth, these were feared creatures when one with the tundra regions of Wyveria, and were only hunted by experts.

"And last but not least, a Dragon Ogre Shaggoth! Over one hundred thousand years old, the number of lives it ended in this century alone is incalculable!"

The huge monster, part dragon and with a humanoid upper body roared, lightning crackling down its throat and in its eyes. The enormous monster cradled a heavy hammer style weapon, hinting that it was more intelligent than its bestial appearance let on.

"And now that our contestants our ready, who's ready for some bloodshed?!"

The roar of approval was deafening...especially to Schala, who found the whole thing depraved. More than that, Schala was ashamed of her mother, looking upon the ensuing carnage with positive glee in her eyes. One day there'd be no need for these games, the crown would have other sources of revenue.

But for now, all the chains dropped in the arena and the madness began. The Kraken masked man roared with rage and pleasure as he took his axe and charged at the nearest Rat ogre; Euron Greyjoy was in his element.

Yes, he had survived, of course, thanks to quick thinking and a swift escape pod. He found himself facing K. Rool, but the two actually got along quite well and came to an...agreement of sorts.

K. Rool's proposition was simple. Euron had cost the crown a great deal of money and generally messed with people who were politically connected. He had to survive in the gladiator pits for one year to earn his freedom and a place in the Royal Navy.

To Euron it was more than a fair deal. It was another golden chance. People back home talked about the old days when the Ironborn raided up and down the galaxy. That was well and fine, but Euron actually lived the old ways.

And for now, he had a Rat Ogre to kill.

The one with the chainsaw looked at him hatefully, revving up the weapon, ready to gruesomely dismember him. But Euron was not ready to die just today. No...he was going to kill this fucker.

He dodged out of the of one swing, sneering under his helm, and he lunged forward, slicing the leg of the ogre.

Euron's axe struck the thing in the knee, hobbling the Rat ogre but not downing it. The Rat ogre swung its chainsaw arms wide, slashing at one of its brethren.

Euron screamed and swung his axe again, chopping off the rat ogre's head. Except it kept going, powered by an onboard computer and a secondary brain. The thing began blindly swinging its chainsaws, heading right for the Wyvern.

The Barioth, though, was no easy target. With amazing agility, it dodged the attack and swung back around, using its long teeth and claws to rend its foe into bloody bits, all while coughing up ice projectiles about the area.

The Bad Blood, Scar, surveyed the battlefield with infrared vision. The Barioth in particular was the greatest prey, the greatest threat and also the source of his greatest weakness. His kind were jungle creatures, Yautja could survive poison, high gravity, low oxygen or gunshots but cold was their main weakness.

Sprinting to evade the ice crystals, Scar looked at the weapon the arean had given him; a knife barely fit to cut bread. It would have to be enough.

The Barioth had brought down the Ogre and noticed Scar approaching fast. Growling with dark intent in its eyes, it got into position, clawing at the ground.

Scar braced for the charge as he saw the Kroxigor wrestle tooth and claw with the gigantopithicus and EuronhHack away at the legs of the Dragon Ogre Shaggoth.

The Barioth sprinted and Scar waited until the last possible second, finally using his powerful legs to leap right onto the monster's head and hold on for dear life.

Naturally the the beast was none to pleased with this at all, and began to thrash wildly about as Scar began to stab over and over again the thick hide of the best, pricing the scales...

...and then both were abruptly sent sprawling by the top half of an rat ogre, said beast being gruesomely bisected and tossed about by the jaws of the Galala Gator.

Janus watched this all with a very deadpan expression. Truth be told, the young boy did not care much for these bloodsports either...

Janus's first real friend had been a cat, due to him being an introverted boy. No doubt the gladiators were scum, the Bad Blood Yautja having killed women and unarmed civilians. Euron's crimes were uncountable. But he felt for the creatures who had no choice in being brought to die.

Down below in the sand the Barioth slammed into the Dragon Ogre, which was swiping its weapon at the Rat Ogre spraying it with warp lightning.

The whole of them collapsed into a heap, with Scar picking himself up first, ready to rip and tear and fool who got in his way.

The Dragon Ogre Shaggoth had thrown down its hammer and was grappling the Galala Gator with bare hands. It gouged our the gator's eyes before crushing the skull with brute strength.

Against such foes, Scar needed a better weapon. He ran to the chainsaw rat, somehow still alive and knocked it over. Smashing bones with his fists, he took hold of one of the chainsaw hands and ripped it right off
Revving up the weapon from the dying body, it charged into the fray once more, this time rushing the Gigantopithicus, slicing into its legs.

Bellowing with rage and pain, the creature staggered, crippled by such a fearsome blow.

Scar was merciless, swinging his new chainsaw down into the gigantopithicus's mouth. The saw ran through bone and sliced the top of the apes head off.

"Now that's impressive!" Gushed Queen Zeal.

Meanwhile, Euron faced the wounded and enraged Kroxigore. He danced out away from its hammer like a ballerina and swung his axe like a bastard maniac

It wouldn't be easy. The Lizardman had a thick hide, and even if disarmed, he would have enough strength to tear Euron easily into pieces.

Not helped by the Barioth prowling the area.

Euron's axe made sparks on the Kroxigor's thick scales. Suddenly it lunged forward and clamped it's haws around his axe handle, snapping it in two.

He glanced around. The Barioth was getting ready for a second charge and there was one last rat ogre with a flame thrower. Then he saw a dead one, one with a warp lightning cannon and he got an idea

Waiting until the very last, he dove out of the way, leaving the Barioth charging into the Kroxigor. As the two brawled, Euron kept moving, heading towards the cannon.

Dragon Ogre Shaggoth's were the oldest members of their race. Even a junior Dragon Ogre was thousands of years old and could wipe out entire armies or tear apart a bunker with its fists. But Euron had a way with Skaven tech.

He ran to the Rat ogre and started ripping apart and putting back together the wires in the thing's exposed skull. He was always good with mechanical engineering, it had saved his life as often as his axe.

Raising the monster's gun, he took as aim best he could at the enraged Dragon Ogre.

The ogre noticed him, and charged at him...

...just as Euron fired, right though the midsection of the beast, blowing it into bloody pieces.

Euron fell back as the warp lightning cannon fired a thousand shots worth of energy in just one.

The cannon vented radiation and plasma, Euron scrambled away to avoid glowing in the dark from radiation poisoning.

The crowd screamed with delight at the pyrotechnics; a huge hole blown in the Arena floor.

And now...things were about get intense.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, entering the fray now, our finest fighting machine, bred to be the perfect killer...RIPTOR!"

The roar of approval was enormous.

Euron knew the tricks of the Arena. Send in the valuable fighter last when everyone else was exhausted.

Fine by him, he lived for a challenge. He feared radiation from the destroyed warp lightning cannon more than he feared Riptors claws.

There was only a moment before Riptor charges at the Barioth.

The large Wyvern turned to her and spat ice...but she leapt deftly over it and latched onto its back, clawing fiercely at it. It thrashed in pain, rearing upwards...allowing Riptor to jump down and drag her foot claw along the belly, spilling blood and guts.

The Barioth went down, dying but still dangerous as it spat out ice and frost.

Riptor leaped at Scar, who lunged out of the way. His chainsaw passed over her head, just scratching her crest feathers.

The two born killers faced each other, snarling in fury as the Barioth finally collapsed into a heap, as Euron stood nearby, ready for anything,.

Euron knew that his unpowered armor would only last so long with either fighter. The dead Rat Ogre still had one chainsaw arm left.

Then he looked at the gravity catapults and got an idea.

Crazy, yes, but very workable...all he needed was the right moment.

The air was fill of electricity from the body of the Dragon Ogre Shaggoth. Even dead it still held as much power as a nuclear reactor.

Riptor jumped onto a gravity catapult and Scar gave chase. Euron jumped into the gravity catapult, but began to strip his metal armor as he did.

K. Rool watched from his balcony with intrigue...Euron was up to something...and like always, hard to say what it was.

Euron presented himself as a brute, as unthinking as Clegane. K. Rool however knew that Euron his an unpredictable streak beneath a savage exterior.

Riptor slashes at Scar. Fatal on a human, but the Yautja would be able to fight for hours through it. When Riptor's claws broke the chain on his chainsaw, Scar gave her a slash with his own sharp claws.,

Euron had reached the height of the gravity catapults and was preparing to bounce downwards at the dead Dragon Ogre. This was going to be hairy, and he knew deep down he would only get Scar...but maybe that was the whole idea. K. Rool wanted both him and Riptor to survive this.

Euron flew downwards on the reverse catapult, thrusting his chainsaw forward, he hurled it at the dead Dragon Ogre and used air currents to shift out of the path of the beam.

The Ironborn man slammed into the sand of the arena as the chainsaw struck the dead monster near where its primary heart would be.

The reaction was instantaneous. The electricity travelled up the chainsaw and detonated the nuclear reactor inside. The electromagnetic energy formed a powerful burst that exploded each and every one of the gravity catapults like a land mine. Concussive force and electric power spread through the arena and terrified the crowd.

Riptor was thrown unconscious, but Scar who'd been covered in bits of metal armor was fried like a bug.

And as such, only two remained in the blood stained arena, with body parts sprayed all about in the pit. A brutal fight to the end...and now K. Rool raised his hand.

"Citizens, people of the arena, I give you, your champion!" the King crowed, "Euron Greyjoy, Kraken of the bloody sands, is your new champion! come and claim your freedom!"

Euron stood up, feeling less than satisfied. He might never get another chance to kill Riptor, so in the future he'd just had to make another chance. For now, he was a free man and he'd fulfilled his end of the agreement with K. Rool.

And for all his faults, K. Rool fully intended to honor his agreement: It would be bad to backstab EVERYONE, and he admired those with extreme ruthlessness, like Euron here.

Euron, of course, knew this, and looked up at the king with a wild grin.

"I live to serve my king!" Euron announced dramatically, kneeling on the sands of the arena. Armed Space Aarines moved in to apprehend him as well as transport Riptor to the infirmary.

K. Rool turned to Relius, "Give Euron a meal and some comfort women in King Dice's brothel. After that, put him to work with the Navy. We need to start reorganizing the admiralty as soon as possible. I can trust Euron to cut away the dead weight and admirals who don't pull their weight."

Relius nodded as the Marines helped Euron and took him to get ready for his new job as people filed out the arena stands. Another game of satisfaction.

K. Rool regarded Schala. "Is everything alright, dear?" he asked with mock sweetness.

Schala, who was pale as a ghost, turned to him and mustered up a smile. "Oh, it's nothing, just feeling a stomachache..." She lied in a way.

The King smiled, maybe even sincerely. "Child, you don't have to lie. I watched my father be beaten to death by his brother when I was younger than you. Just remember that all of this is justified."

This did nothing to mollify Schala, she merely gulped and nodded at the man who had so completely embraced and internalized cruelty and evil. "Yes, your highness, thank you." Taking Janus by the hand, she swiftly left, wanting to be away from...all of it.

Janus squeezed his sister's hand, his logical, scientific worldview reeling from the raw cruelty of the King's rule. He wondered if indeed a nation build by the likes of Euron, Riptor and Relius could be one that survived. Or if it should be one that survived…