Disclaimer: I have nuthin to do with ownin anything. And to answer the question I received in the comments, yes, Sirius is still chilling with Azathoth outside reality, rendered immortal as the fundamental laws of nature do not apply to him while he's the guest of a being who's basically the brain as described on the Kardashev Scale fandom wiki.
Edited: 03/03/23
Aleyda, High-Queen of the New Huns lounged atop her throne of twisted metal and animal skins, her eyes closed and clawed fingers running over the grooves made by her past anger. She was tall and well-muscled, in the past she seemed to have lost her left arm as in its place was an old V-32 bionic arm that looked to have been heavily modified.
A man wearing a ratty nanoweave vest and a respirator suddenly burst into the room, "My lady!"
Aleyda opened her eyes, a secondary eyelid slid aside revealing her strangely animalistic eyes.
"The raid was successful, your highness," The man whose name was Euric said, "We captured a C-900 and two C-255s."
"Were they carrying anything?" Aleyda spoke.
"No, your highness."
Aleyda licked her lips with an abnormally long pointed tongue, "Arm the C-900 and sell the C-255s at Nemesis."
"Yes, my lady," Euric said, and quickly left.
A small dark smile formed on her face, the Blaa Commonwealth would soon know of the horde's power.
/ / / / / / / /
I sat in my study, drumming my fingers against my opulent desk. It had been five months since the gate opened, and it was getting boring. Sure the Emperor's idiot son had risen to power after his assassination, and was now failing miserably at conducting a guerilla campaign. But that was no fun, funny, but not really fun.
Then I got an idea. An awful idea. I had a wonderful, awful idea.
I pressed a button on my desk, causing a screen to pop up out of it. Quickly dialing a number on the keypad that had also appeared, it took only a few seconds for Minister Unnr to show up on the screen.
"Unnr, I want one-hundred twenty more Autofacs," I said.
Unnr's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her bangs, "Uh, okay, why?"
"That will be discussed in the emergency meeting of the Imperial Council, which shall take place in a few hours," I spoke, "How long do you think it'll take for them to replicate?"
"One-hundred twenty, eh? Probably about two weeks," Unnr replied.
"Good, good." I spoke, "Now how's the Ecstacy of Gold coming along?"
"She's finished, but still needs to complete a test voyage," Unnr smirked.
"Good, very good," I said, breaking into an evil laugh.
*Four Hours Later*
"I haven't a clue why I thought of it before!" I spoke, pacing in the great conference room, "It's so simple!"
"May I ask what you're referring to, my lord?" Director Tahmineh asked in her usual snooty tone.
"Universes!" I replied, "We're going to invade other universes!"
"Huh," Minister Gryfina said.
"Just think of it!" I spoke, "With the resources of multiple universes at our fingertips, the Antarctic Dominion would be the most powerful political entity in reality! Imagine the amount of gold we could acquire."
"I like it!" Arch-Treasurer Guðríðr said.
"Is that possible?" Grand Air Marshal 1 asked.
"Oh, yeah," I replied dismissively, "I used to travel the omniverse all the time. Now, Unnr scale the Autofac's production level up to maximum. We need enough equipment and vehicles for one googolquintiplexigong guards." I ordered, snapping my fingers, "We'll start with one universe, then from that universe we'll move onto the next, and so on so on. I think I'll call it 'Operation Pub Crawl.'"
"It will be done, milord," Unnr said, "And I have good news, the Ecstacy of Gold should be arriving at Odyssey Station any minute now."
"Good, good, with it as our flagship, no force in the omniverse will be able to stop us," I chuckled evilly, "Speaking of the omniverse, the Ecstacy of Gold will lead the charge into each universe."
"When shall we be entering the other universe, my lord?" Grand Field Marshal 1 asked.
"The attack shall begin on April first," I replied.
"Our usual then," Grand Field Marshal 1 chuckled.
"Of course," I said, standing up and beginning to weave my hands in a complicated motion, "Ph'nglui yaah ot Azathoth, Y' Nyarlathotep ch'nglui'ahog throdog mg'nglui llll fahf nilgh'rishuggogg ng ehyeahog."
The world around me seemed to twist before snapping back into place with an audible 'thwack.'
"There, one universal rift," I spoke, sitting back down, "From now on we shall call the universe beyond the rift Arcadis. Specter, I want your agents to start scouting Arcadis, we need as much information on it as we can gather."
"It shall be done, my lord," The Specter replied.
*Two Days Later*
"Madam President, I think you might want to see this," Secretary of Defence Harvey Gallagher spoke, sliding a tablet across the desk.
"What is it?" The new President of the United States of America Leila Kim asked, peering at the tablet.
"The Antarctians are preparing for something big," Gallagher replied.
"How big?" Kim asked.
"Bigger than anything they've done before," The Secretary of Defence said, "Even their invasion of Africa and this gate incident."
"It's preparation for a fourth one," A rough voice spoke.
Everyone in the room turned to look at an olive green pillar, coming out of which was a human head. A grizzled scarred head that belonged to one-hundred four-year-old six-star General Cristina McCormick, a veteran of the War for Antarctic Superiority. The reason for her being attached to a pillar at such a young age was due to the fact that she wanted to keep her brain in tip-top shape, well, as tip-top as it could be with a chunk of grenade shrapnel lodged in it.
"A fourth what?" Gallagher queried.
McCormick snorted, "The fourth World War! Nyarlathotep's gettin' bored with just screwin' with us, he's gonna finish what he started eighty-five years ago!"
Eyes were rolled simultaneously.
Meanwhile, inside an Underground Complex Somewhere within the Russian State, a short man kneeled in front of a large desk, "Lord-Protector, we have news on the enemy."
Behind the desk was a man dressed in dark militaristic clothing, his name was Vladimir Mukhomorov, a one-hundred-twenty-six-year-old veteran of the War for Antarctic Superiority who had been disfigured after a chance encounter with an Antarctian napalm bomb.
"What is it Ilya?" He replied, turning his evidently bionic eyes towards the man.
"The Antarctians-" Ilya started.
The sound of a metal stapler being crushed by one of Mukhomorov's robotic hands cut him off.
"The enemy," Ilya said, trying to avoid looking into the Lord-Protector's glowing red pupils, "Is readying for something big. Director Yushkov suspects they may be preparing to invade."
"Have him shot," Mukhomorov said in an eerily calm tone, "I have no use for a spy who brings me nothing but rumor."
/ / / / / / / /
Two months after the emergency meeting of the Imperial Council, I, along with Grand Field Marshal 1, Grand Air Marshal 1, Grand Admiral 1, and Lord-Commodore Mochán stood on the bridge of the ADSS Ecstacy of Gold, an Ilyth'la-class Dreadnought, the first and only of its kind. The discus-shaped Ecstacy of Gold was by far the largest and most powerful ship at the Antarctian Space Corps' disposal, being one-thousand kilometers in diameter and armed with the reality disintegrator, a weapon that had the capability to erase its target from existence. Surrounding the titanic ship were one-thousand large battlefleets, each composed of four seventy-five kilometer in diameter Azathoth-class Ultra-Battleships, eight fifty-five kilometer in diameter Yog-Sothoth-class Super-Battleships, twelve thirty-five kilometer in diameter Magnum Innominandum-class Battleships, sixteen twenty-five kilometer in diameter Magnum Tenebrosum-class Pocket Battleships, twenty fifteen kilometer in diameter Yellow King-class Heavy Battlecruisers, twenty-four ten-kilometer in diameter Great Dreamer-class Battlecruisers, twenty-eight eight-kilometer in diameter Cthylla-class Heavy Cruisers, thirty-two five-kilometer in diameter Nug-class Cruisers, thirty-six four-kilometer in diameter Yeb-class Pursuit Cruisers, and innumerable one-thousand-foot in diameter Wilbur-class Light Cruisers which were stored within the larger ships. All in all, the trans-universal invasion fleet numbered at one-billion one-hundred-eighty thousand warships, not counting the trillions of troop transports required to invade multiple universes.
We floated in front of the universal rift which was positioned somewhere between the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies.
"Well," I spoke, "Forward unto the breach and all that."
At my order, Battlefleets I through M sped forwards into the rift, instantly the entire fleet's perspective of outside the ships became replaced by a kaleidoscope of spinning streaking multi-colored lights. It left just as quickly as it had come, and we emerged on the other side of the rift, in what appeared to be the exact same spot as before.
"Specter!" I said loudly.
The hologram in the center of the bridge instantly formed into a slightly fuzzy version of the Specter's distorted green head, "Yes, my lord?" He spoke.
"Tell me about this universe."
The Specter nodded, "As far as I know, this universe is very similar to our own, the key differences being the year, which is approximately 2374, and with the Milky Way and Andromeda galaxies. The latter is ruled by a civilization known as the Kelvan Empire, which has been forced to abandon it due to rising radiation levels and are now making their way towards the Milky Way in a fleet of generation ships. The former is composed of numerous civilizations, the most powerful being the Borg Collective, the Krenim Imperium, the Dominion, the United Federation of Planets, the Klingon Empire, and the Romulan Star Empire. Out of all of them, the Borg are the largest threat due to their ability to adapt, though I doubt they could do that with our weapons since most in some way require nether energy to function. As for the rest, all, besides the Krenim Imperium and the Romulan Star Empire, are currently at war with each other. This gives us a great opportunity, as we can start picking off neutral civilizations while the major powers are trying to destroy each other and thus, possibly with a little help from mass signal jamming, go undetected for weeks maybe even months."
"Tech level?" I asked.
"Nowhere near us," The Specter replied, "I mean, the life expectancy for an average human in this universe is only one-hundred and most civilizations are still using particle beams and disruptors, which won't even scratch our CF screens. However, they seem to have very advanced teleportation technology on par with ours, only they use theirs to transport personnel."
"Is that going to cause any problems?" I asked.
"No, my lord," The Specter responded, "It won't be if the entire fleet resets its CF screens to their secondary arrangement."
"Good, we'll take out the Borg first, do they have a homeworld?" I asked.
"Sort of, their capital is a six-hundred-kilometer long structure known as the Unicomplex," The Specter responded.
"Set a course for it once the fleet has reset its CF screens, it's nearly time to test the reality disintegrator," I chuckled.
"Aye, my lord."
Fifteen minutes later the massive group of ships all elongated unnaturally before disappearing in flashes of purple light. We traveled right through Dominion and Krenim space at one-hundred-billion times the speed of light, arriving seven minutes later at the Borg capital which looked almost comically small compared to the Ecstacy of Gold.
"Begin firing procedure stage one," I ordered.
On the hull of the dreadnought, three flaps opened up like a metal flower and from its middle grew an odd tesla coil-like protrusion that seemed to warp the space around it.
"Begin firing procedure stage two."
"We're being hailed, my lord," The comms officer said.
"Ignore it," I spoke.
The tesla coil-like protrusion began to emit an ethereal mist. Two approaching Borg cubes were each disintegrated by an Azathoth-class ultra-battleship and a Cthylla-class heavy cruiser respectively.
"Fire!" I ordered.
A beam of energy, the color of which was not any that appeared within the bounds of the omniverse shot from the tesla coil-like protrusion. As soon as the beam reached the Unicomplex, it began to fall apart bit by bit and fade away until it had become nothing.
I clasped my hands behind my back, "Now, contact Battlefleets LXI, LXII, LXIII, and LXIV, they are to track down and eradicate all traces of the Borg from this galaxy."
/ / / / / / / /
I sat down in my opulently carved leather swivel chair which was situated behind an equally opulent desk in my office. Sitting atop it were two gigantic piles of paper, each one containing information on the crew of the ADSS Ahtu, a long-decommissioned Dominion-class battleship.
High-Admiral 1-ᛒ, seventy-six years ago, as Admiral-Prime 1-ᛒ, he had returned from the galaxy's farthest reaches after a ten-year mission of exploration.
"Master," Urshu spoke, appearing from nowhere, "The High-Admiral is here."
"Send him in," I responded.
Urshu nodded and disappeared into a shadow. Several minutes later 1-ᛒ walked in, the black and white officer's mantle that belonged to the dress uniform he wore fluttering behind him and highly-polished hobnailed boots making clacks as they hit my oak flooring. He stopped in front of my desk and took off his black peaked cap the visor of which was decorated with gold oak leaves.
"At ease, High-Admiral," I said.
1-ᛒ relaxed, "You asked for me, my lord?"
"Yes I did, 1-ᛒ," I replied, steepling my fingers, "I assume you are familiar with our current effort to invade another universe?"
"Yes, my lord," 1-ᛒ said.
"If we are to invade, we must gain at least some favor from the universe's population," I spoke, "Thus, I am assigning you to travel each galaxy in this other universe, helping anyone you can. Providing guidance to developing civilizations, treating diseases, defending people in need, that sort of stuff."
1-ᛒ's eyes widened in shock, "So, I'll no longer be managing a fleet of patrol ships on the Alran border?"
"Of course! And you won't be doing it in that Magnum Innominandum you've been traipsing around in for the past nine years, you'll be doing it in this," I said, sliding an FTL computer across the desk, "The ADSS Ahtu, YSSB-14566-II."
"A Yog-Sothoth-class?" 1-ᛒ breathed.
"A Yog-Sothoth-class equipped with prototype X-2 dark energy torpedoes," I smirked, "A long-ranged alternative to nucleonic, conversion, and gamma-ray laser beams."
"What can they do?" 1-ᛒ asked.
"They're fire-and-forget and can travel for nearly a light-year before losing their pep. But you only have a few, five out of the seven produced, so use them wisely."
"I'll make sure to, my lord," 1-ᛒ smiled, "When shall I start?"
"Immediately!" I said, "A shuttle is waiting at Murod Interplanetary Spaceport to take you to Odyssey Station, where the ADSS Ahtu is awaiting your presence."
1-ᛒ grinned widely and put a fist to his chest in salute.
"Dismissed," I said, saluting him back.
/ / / / / / / /
Heavy guard 1-W732 sighed as he unleashed another barrage of phased plasma into the treeline ahead of him.
"I'm tellin' you guys, it's some kinda suicide pact!" 1-W739 spoke, sitting against an N-K25 Coyote APC and smoking a cigarette through a port in his mask.
"Shut the fuck up dipshit," 1-W728 chuckled, taking a potshot at an enemy monster.
"No! I'm serious, what other reason would they have to send wave after wave of enemies after our small-ass fireteam!"
"Did you even read the playing cards we were given?" 1-W732 said.
"I was never given those playing cards!" 1-W739 exclaimed.
1-W728 pulled a deck of cards out of one of his great coat's pockets and tossed it to 1-W739, "Here take a look at the ace of spades."
1-W739 shuffled through the deck until he found said card, which had a picture of a blonde-haired man printed on it along with the words 'Zorzal El Caesar Emperor and Known Idiot.'
"Oh, that explains it."
/ / / / / / / /
"No, no, a little more to the left," I spoke, gesturing towards an area of the Castle East's great hall, a room that I'd completely forgotten about.
One month had passed since the reality disintegrator wiped the Borg Unicomplex from the face of Arcadis, and it was finally time for my annual Triumph Day banquet. A celebration of the War for Antarctic Superiority's end.
A servant wearing a Langnase mask adjusted a wooden shield that had a most horrible creature painted on it.
"Yes that's perfect," I said, turning around to find another servant holding a dusty bottle that looked as if it had been dragged up from a forgotten corner of the wine cellar, "Merlot? I find it disturbing that you think I'd serve my guests Merlot, for Sultan's sake go back down and get a few bottles of Yornet Branco. We need some honey wine also."
"Master?" Urshu said from somewhere nearby, "I believe we may have to put another leaf in the table."
"Then put another one in!" I replied, before turning to face the Langnase masked servant, "Bring that tablecloth Tycho Brahe gave me out of storage."
The servant nodded and quickly disappeared into a shadow. Several minutes later they appeared again holding a large crimson tablecloth which they draped over the ninety-two-foot-long table that sat in the center of the great hall.
Qing dynasty porcelain dishware along with elegant silver goblets and grand baroque silver cutlery was placed in front of the eighty gothic revival dining chairs which were situated around the gigantic table.
Over the next fifteen minutes, food was slowly brought into the great hall. It started with large bowls of watercress salad followed by platters of roast meats seasoned with both alien and earthly spices, bowls of potato salad, grilled fish, coleslaw, two cockentrices for pizzazz, barbecued Zulrukian wild boar shoulders, several bowls of Luglirde a dish consisting of a boiled alien vegetable stuffed with seasoned meat, platters of boiled shelled Tus Altan lobster tails, and two large platters of pitepalt which were situated near the head of the table where I sat.
"The guests have arrived, master," Urshu said after appearing from nowhere.
"Bring them in then!" I said, sitting down.
"Shahbanu Hermione is already here, master," Urshu replied.
True to his words, Hermione sat to my right wearing opulent Tyrian purple attire made of the finest Ucruth silk.
"My dear Hermione!" I spoke, "It's wonderful to see you in person! And in such a gorgeous bliaut too."
"Thank you Ny," She responded, snapping her skeletal fingers causing a servant to fill her goblet with dark red wine, "Frederick gave it to me."
"That was nice of him," I said.
Without warning, the entire room seemed to shake for a few seconds.
"It's grown again," I commented idly.
"How big is it now?" Hermione asked.
"Thirteen thousand feet," I replied, taking a sip from my goblet of mead, "My castle doesn't like that skyscraper the yanks are building."
It took a few minutes for my guests to show up, first in was Urshu leading the others. He was followed by Frederick, Queen Christina II of the Second Swedish Empire, Shah Libitheus of the Cheruzhod Sector, Shah Ninogniew of the Vax Jalgouss Sector, Shahbanu Evochildis of the Khorkogok Sector, Shah Lochlairach of the Khath Vunruss Sector, Shahbanu Deidandra of the Okkashak Sector, Shah Dardides of the Mochilzas Sector, Shahbanu Mariope of the Vakkougrux Sector, Shah Brollach of the Koggros Sector, Shahbanu Viraedra of the Ogazkuss Sector, Shah Dardentius of the Chir Kushzur Sector, Shahbanu Nydare of the Kankhar Phuz Sector, Shah Servaeus of the Ath Khuulghath Sector, Shahbanu Roseria of the Ulghud Vad Sector, Shah Boravian of the Airrgosud Sector, Shahbanu Larithea of the Urkaoz Sector, Shah Tibeus of the Phezozhod Sector, Shahbanu Callare of the Kerrgairmax Sector, Shah Decerus of the Ak Vegrus Sector, Shahbanu Hecana of the Phanzuss Kuth Sector, Shah Septannus of the Omkad Keth Sector, Shahbanu Carmiana of the Vacrugguk Sector, Shah Frangean of the Gakkaz Gaix Sector, Shahbanu Nekhbet of the Kudragnux Sector, Shah Peadrus of the Oggud Joth Sector, Shahbanu Amaunet of the Jath Phalas Sector, Shah Psammenitus of the Arkazzos Sector, Shahbanu Marta of the Os Exnuss Sector, Shah Eanraig of the Choggrir Noz Sector, Shahbanu Ariuru of the Goukkruuddos Sector, Shah Abibaal of the Aszos Tir Sector, Shahbanu Zimu of the Tashzeddor Sector, Shah Ur-Lama of the Mass Muxruth Sector, Shahbanu Nikkal of the Ukruss Sector, Shah Adoniah of the Khokkorroth Sector.
President Leila Kim of the United States, Vice-President Jerry Marquez of the United States, Prime-Minister Arnold Cunningham of England, King William V of England, President Zulima Baxayeva of Greater Chechnya, President Clovis Moreau of France, Prime-Minister Éliane Pélissier of France, Lord-Protector Vladimir Mukhomorov of the Russian State, King Mansur Hussein of New Babylon, President Bonnie Kilroy of Ireland, Taoiseach Tristan Morrison of Ireland, many many bodyguards, and finally quite a few members of the Antarctian Aristocracy.
I stood up from the gigantic chair I sat in, "Good evening my dear friends. It is wonderful to have each and every one of you here for my eighty-second annual Triumph Day banquet. Now, let's eat."
I put two Tus Altan lobster tails, half of a giant Gulkerian lemon, and a bit of watercress salad on my plate before sitting back down. A small silver vessel containing fresh butter appeared near my plate and immediately began to heat up until the butter was melted.
"I trust your journey was pleasant," I said, pouring the butter over my lobster tails, "The Grelp'xox is old, but it still runs just as well as it did when it first emerged from Autofac Epsilon."
Most of the world leaders looked quite unnerved. It was understandable, none besides Frederick, Christina, William, the Lord-Protector, and the two Frenchies had ever seen me or Hermione in person.
"So!" I said suddenly, "Hermione, I hear you've been having some trouble with pirates."
"The High-Queen," Hermione spat after taking a drink of wine that disappeared once it moved beyond her teeth, "An annoying bandit who claims to be a reincarnation of Attila the Hun."
"Very interesting," I replied, slicing my lobster tails into portions, "The Specter mentioned something about a group of marauders operating out of an area close to the old ringworld."
"That's them," Hermione said, "They stole three empty freighters from a spacedock in orbit over Guk Ulger recently."
"The Specter believes that they're going to conquer the shrooms soon," I spoke.
"You mean the Blaa?" Libitheus asked, "That's gonna be quick, those guys are a bunch of pushovers."
"Weren't they a vassal of the Sky Outlaws before we destroyed their empire?" Hermione said.
"And stole all their riches, antiquities, and, well everything," Adoniah added.
"And sent their big-ass space station into a quasar," Ninogniew added.
"I thought that was a black hole?" Evochildis asked.
"No," I said, spooning some blue cheese dressing onto my salad, "It was a quasar."
Before that conversation could progress any further, Urshu appeared next to me, visibly startling Leila Kim and Mansur Hussein.
"Master," Urshu spoke, "It appears that the snowstorm I informed you of earlier has morphed into a Hul-class whiteout blizzard."
"Fuck," I mumbled, "A Hul-class, jeez."
I stood up and cleared my nonexistent throat.
"Attention! Due to a Hul-class whiteout blizzard, I'm afraid all of you are going to have to stay here for however long it lasts," I announced, "Urshu, have eighty guest rooms cleaned, and if you find any colonies of those genetically modified bats, move them to tower four."
"Didn't you have some sort of weather control satellite in orbit?" Hermione asked.
"Nah, Shoemaker 1's orbit decayed ages ago," I responded dismissively, sitting back down and sticking a piece of lobster through my mask's mouth slit, "So, anyone here want to buy a space station?"
Hermione along with the other Shahbanus and Shahs turned collectively to look at me with some variant of a smile growing on their faces.
"Space station?" Arnold Cunningham asked, unaware of the pleading look the King of England was sending him.
A blueprint of a cylindrical object appeared in my hand, "This is Lumina Station, a beautiful structure equipped with all the necessities for perpetual habitation, this incudes farms, an X-72 nuclear reactor, an artificial gravity generator, animal pens, and a spacious cargo bay for delivering water, the only thing that isn't provided on the station."
"How much?" The Prime Minister of England asked, William the fifth put his head in his hands and the two Frenchies began whispering to each other in their native language.
"Two trillion pounds," I said, popping another slice of lobster through my mask's mouth slit.
"I'll take it!" Cunningham said, causing the King of England to somehow turn pale while also becoming slightly purple, the two Frenchmen had started snickering at this point.
"Fantastic!" I spoke, the blueprint disappeared and was replaced by a roll of parchment which I slid over to the Prime Minister, "That, my dear sir, is the deed, you sign it, and you have yourself a space station."
Arnold Cunningham pulled out a pen and did so with a smile on his face.
"Beautiful," I said as the deed vanished, "Prime Minister Cunningham, you are now the proud owner of a space station situated in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant on the border between us and the Technate of Ondria, congratulations."
The rest of the dinner went by quickly, before I knew it, most of the food was gone, some was in little boxes for my guests to take home when the Hul-class whiteout blizzard was over. Twenty minutes later I stood in front of my guests, we were in the south wing which contained the Castle East's guest rooms.
"Here are your rooms, take any that catch your fancy," I said, before throwing a few parting words over my shoulder as I walked through the double doors at the end of the hall, "Oh, and make sure to watch out for the creature."
/ / / / / / / /
"You bloody idiot!" The King of England growled, "Do you realize what you've done?"
"I bought the Kingdom of England its first extra-galactic colony!" The Prime Minister replied.
"What you've bought will be our downfall!" William snarled, "He did this to the Swedes too! He sold them a run-down hunk of junk base on Jupiter, and once they had run out of money just trying to keep the damn place operational, he invaded to quote 'protect Antarctian interests.' And now there's a Second Swedish Empire, which is most definitely nothing but an Antarctian puppet tailored specifically to mock and annoy Russia!"
"Oh," Cunningham spoke, "What do you think he meant by, the creature?"
William rolled his eyes, "It's a monster that's so slow it won't get you unless you can't walk at a reasonable pace."
/ / / / / / / /
May 11, 2082
Domain of Nir Gagzud
5:21 PM PST
IT-4502 and his partner IT-4503 got out of their Kthecno Interceptor Mark VI and walked down into one of the ditches that were on each side of a lonely mountain road in northern Nir Gagzud. At the bottom of said ditch was a coroner who was going over the mauled bloody corpse of a young woman with a medscanner.
"So what're we lookin' at here? Cougar attack?" IT-4503 asked, crouching to get a better look at the body.
"Vic's name is Riley Walton," The coroner replied, staring at the small screen situated on the back of his medscanner, "And no, not unless it had claws made of polykeratin."
"Cause of death?" IT-4502 questioned.
"Blood loss," The coroner spoke, "Whoever did this went way too far with the biomods."
"Yeah, tell me about it," IT-4503 rubbed his forehead, "Any clue on the time of death?"
"Nine-thirty at the minimum, ten at max."
IT-4502 peered at the wound on the corpse's ring finger, "Looks like someone tore her ring off. Is there any money in her purse, 03?"
IT-4503 nodded before walking back up to the interceptor and taking ahold of the mic, "Dispatch, I'm gonna need the address of a Riley Walton."
"Just a second," The dispatcher spoke, "A Riley Walton of 604 North Harbor Row, Fort Van Cleef was reported missing today by her parents Nate and Lola of the same address."
"Thanks, dispatch," IT-4503 said, putting the mic back, "Hey 02!"
"Yeah?" IT-4502 asked, looking up from examining the wound on the corpse's ring finger.
"We're going on a little road trip," IT-4503 replied, getting into the interceptor's driver's seat.
"Contact us if you find anything else," IT-4502 said to the coroner as he walked up to the car, "What do mean, 03?"
"Riley Walton was reported missing by her parents in Fort Van Cleef," IT-4503 said.
"Fort Van Cleef?" IT-4502 spoke, "Jeez."
"It's gonna be a long drive," IT-4503 said.
"Yup."
/ / / / / / / /
May 11, 2082
Fort Van Cleef, Domain of Nir Gagzud
8:25 PM PST
IT-4502 and IT-4503 stepped out into the pouring rain, they were outside of a large colonial-style house overlooking the sea. The two walked up onto the porch and over to the elegant oak door. IT-4502 knocked on the door, a minute later, it was answered by a fancily dressed man.
"Mr. Walton?" IT-4503 asked.
"No, sir, I am Dodson, the butler." The man replied, "Why are you here?"
"I'm IT-4503, this is my partner IT-4502, we'd like to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Walton."
Dodson looked at them in mild shock before opening the door fully and allowing them into the opulent mansion.
"Follow me please, Mrs. Walton is out, but Mr. Walton is in the drawing-room," Dodson spoke.
They were led into a large drawing-room in which sat a middle-aged man.
"Mr. Walton, I'm IT-4502 this is my partner IT-4503, we're here about your daughter."
The man's eyes widened behind his glasses, "Riley, did you find her?"
IT-4502 glanced at IT-4503 before sitting down in a leather armchair, "Mr. Walton, I'm sorry to say but it appears that your daughter was murdered last night."
The man seemed to deflate, "What? B-but-"
"Did your daughter wear a ring, Mr. Walton?" IT-4502 cut him off.
"Y-yes," The Walton patriarch said, "She was a member of the Acolytes of Nyarlathotep when she was young, but never stopped wearing the ring."
"When was the last time you saw your daughter, Mr. Walton?" IT-4502 asked.
"Last night, she was going out with some of her friends from school."
"Their names?" IT-4502 queried.
"I only know one, her best friend, a girl named Annabelle Doyle," The man replied.
"Did they say where they were going?"
"No," Walton said.
IT-4502 stood up, "Well, that'll be all Mr. Walton, we best be off."
The two Imperial Troopers exited the house and got back into the interceptor, IT-4503 picked up the mic, "Dispatch, I need the address of Annabelle Doyle."
"Annabelle Doyle, daughter of Alvin and Daisy Doyle, lives with them at 221 Seaview Route, Fort Van Cleef." The dispatcher spoke a minute later.
"Thanks, dispatch," IT-4503 said, putting the mic back.
IT-4502 pulled out of the Walton's driveway, "This one's gonna be hard."
"What gave you that idea?" IP-4503 asked.
"I have a feeling," IT-4502 replied, "That this is going to be like the Howell case."
"You mean the Teen-Age Strangler?" IT-4503 asked, disbelief coloring his tone, "02, I highly doubt that we're going to have another case like that one."
"Well, you never know," IT-4502 said as he pulled into the parking lot of a small diner.
/ / / / / / / /
May 12, 2082
Fort Van Cleef, Domain of Nir Gagzud
4:03 PM PST
IT-4502 knocked thrice on the front door of the house belonging to the Doyle family. A minute later, a middle-aged woman opened the door.
"Mrs. Doyle, I'm IT-4502 this is my partner IT-4503, we'd like to talk to your daughter."
"Annabelle, why? Is something wrong?" Mrs. Doyle asked, opening the door further and ushering them in.
"Your daughter's friend Riley Walton was murdered the night before last," IT-4503 said, "Her father said she was with Annabelle that night."
"What!" Mrs. Doyle exclaimed.
"Mom?" Spoke a voice from the top of the staircase, "What's wrong?"
A muscular young woman hopped down the staircase and came to a stop near Mrs. Doyle.
"Oh, Anne-" The woman started.
"Annabelle," IT-4502 cut her off, "We're going to have to ask you some questions."
IT-4502 and IT-4503 led the young woman into the sitting room where they and she sat down.
"Annabelle, Riley was murdered the night before last," IT-4503 said.
The young woman's face rapidly became the color of rancid buttermilk, "What? Riley w-was murdered?"
"Apparently she was out with a group of friends that included you," IT-4502 replied, "Where did you go?"
"Dan, Riley, Connor, and I went down to Oyster Beach," She replied, biting her lip.
"And after that?" IT-4502 asked.
"Riley and I walked back to my house together, after that she walked back home," Annabelle answered.
"What time was this?" IT-4502 questioned.
"She got home about nine-forty-five," Mrs. Doyle said.
"Did you see anyone suspicious on your walk home?" IT-4503 asked.
"No, I don't think so," Annabelle responded.
"Do you have any biomods, Annabelle?" IT-4502 asked.
Mrs. Doyle and Annabelle shared a look before the younger of the two replied with a, "No."
Both Imperial Troopers stood up, "I think that's enough questions, thank you for the help, Annabelle."
The two exited the house and got back into the interceptor.
"She was lying about the other people at Oyster Beach," IT-4502 said.
"Yep," IT-4503 replied.
IT-4502 sighed, "Okay, let's go take a look at the beach."
Ten minutes later, the two Imperial Troopers were standing near what was once a crackling fire.
IT-4503 was scanning the area with a small hand-held device, "There were only two people here.
"Hey 03, look at this," IT-4502 said, walking up to the other Imperial Trooper, his hand held out in front of him.
"A locket?" IT-4503 spoke.
"Take a look at the inside," IT-4502 replied.
Pressing a small button on the locket's side caused it to spring open and reveal a picture showing Annabelle Doyle hugging a very much alive Riley Walton.
"Interesting," IT-4503 muttered.
"Car 221? Car 221? Come in Car 221," Suddenly started coming from the interceptor.
IT-4502 ran over and grabbed the mic, "Yeah, what is it dispatch?"
"A local fisherman known as Zeke says he saw something down on the beach the night before last." The dispatcher spoke, "Apparently he frequents the Old Salt Taven on the Fort Van Cleef Pier."
"Thanks, dispatch," IT-4502 said, putting the mic back and hurrying back to IT-4503, "We have someone who says he saw something on the beach."
"Let's go have a talk with him then," IT-4503 said, walking over to the interceptor and getting in the passenger's seat.
They drove up off the beach and down the winding road which ran alongside it. A few minutes later, they had reached the Old Salt Tavern and found Zeke, an elderly red-nosed man wearing an old fisherman's sweater.
"You saw something on the night of March thirty-first?" IT-4502 asked.
Zeke nodded, downing his glass of whiskey, "Yes, I was walkin' back to my house and saw two gals sittin' by a fire."
"And?" IT-4503 asked.
"They were engagin' in activities," Zeke replied.
IT-4502 and IT-4503 shared a look and a tiny nod.
"Thank you very much for your help, Zeke," IT-4502 said.
/ / / / / / / /
May 12, 2082
Fort Van Cleef, Domain of Nir Gagzud
5:34 PM PST
IT-4502 and IT-4503 walked up to the Doyle's front door, the former knocking on it thrice. The door was opened nearly immediately by an apron-wearing Mrs. Doyle.
"Oh, officers!" Mrs. Doyle said, opening the door wider, "You have more questions for Annabelle?"
"Yes, we do," IT-4503 said, "Where is she?"
"She went out," Mrs. Doyle said, "Said she lost something at the beach."
IT-4502 rubbed his forehead, "Fuck, well, sorry to impose Mrs. Doyle, we'll be going."
They walked back to the interceptor and began driving back down to Oyster Beach.
"Okay, you win, 02," IT-4503 said, "This is beginning to be similar to the Howell case."
"Told ya," IT-4502 responded.
Fifteen minutes later they had reached the spot where they found the locket. IT-4502 stepped up to the pile of charred wood, looking at a shocked Annabelle, her eyes were red and puffy.
"Looking for something?" IT-4503 asked.
"Ye-Yeah!" Annabelle stuttered, wiping her nose, "I lost my locket while I was here with my friends."
"Annabelle, we know about you and Riley," IT-4502 spoke, "We know you two were here alone. And we know you have some kind of biomod."
The girl slumped, sighing, "Yes, we were together, but I would never ever hurt her! She- I loved her. And the only biomod I have is the one that eliminates cancer!"
IT-4502 and IT-4503 shared a look and another tiny nod.
"Annabelle, do you know of anyone who could possibly have done this to Riley?" IT-4502 said, holding out the locket.
Annabelle snatched the locket out of the Imperial Trooper's hand and clutched it to her chest, "Sh-She, told me about a boy that got really mad when she rejected him. He threatened to kill her, but she didn't take him seriously because he said that to people all the time."
"Do you know this boy's name?" IT-4503 asked.
"Keith Wells, I think?" Annabelle replied.
"Thank you, Annabelle," IT-4502 said, "Would you like a ride home?"
Annabelle nodded, IT-4503 opened one of the interceptor's back doors and she hopped in.
IT-4502 picked up the mic, "Dispatch, I need the address of Keith Wells."
"1055 East Cedar Avenue, Fort Van Cleef." The dispatcher answered a minute later.
"Thanks, dispatch."
/ / / / / / / /
May 12, 2082
Fort Van Cleef, Domain of Nir Gagzud
6:09 PM PST
IT-4502 knocked thrice on the Wells' front door, several minutes passed and no one answered, so the Imperial Trooper knocked thrice more, still no answer. He sighed, drawing his nerve pistol before kicking in the door and walking in followed by IT-4503. There were monstrous bloody footprints everywhere, and in the far corner of the living room, sitting against a couch was a girl of about fourteen who looked as if she had been mauled by a bear.
"Shit," IT-4502 said, running over to the girl, he pressed two fingers to her neck, a pulse, faint but there, "03, call an ambulance please."
IT-4502 opened a small pouch on his belt and pulled out two hypos, one full of Oloxamine, a drug that caused instant coagulation in wounds, and one full of Ascepaline, a drug that accelerated cellular regeneration. He pressed the tip of both to the girl's arm and with a small hiss of compressed air the medicines were injected into the subdermal layer below her skin.
"Dispatch, I need an ambulance out to 1055 East Cedar Avenue, pronto," IT-4503, out by the interceptor, said.
"On its way, anything else?" The dispatcher replied.
"Yeah, I need an APB out on-" Without warning, a hairy bipedal bear-like creature hopped over the Wells' fence and ran out into the road.
"Yes?" The dispatcher spoke.
"Scratch that dispatch," IT-4503 replied, dropping the mic and drawing his nerve pistol, "Hey!"
The creature whirled around, black eyes trained on the Imperial Trooper. Before it could do anything further, IT-4503's nerve gun gave off a soft crack, like that of electricity and the creature dropped unconscious to the asphalt. Where its fur receded into its skin, its eyes returned to brown, its claws receded, and its teeth became flat once again.
IT-4503 took a pair of heavy-duty electronic cuffs from his belt and hooked them around the unconscious Keith Wells' wrists. The Imperial Trooper walked back to the interceptor and picked up the mic.
"We now need an armored transport, dispatch," IT-4503 spoke.
"Affirmative, and the ambulance you ordered should be there in a couple seconds."
True to their words, a sleek streamlined Kthecno ambulance rounded the corner seconds later.
"In there!" IT-4503 shouted, pointing at the Wells' house.
/ / / / / / / /
May 15, 2082
Fort Van Cleef Courthouse, Domain of Nir Gagzud
12:23 PM PST
Justiciar Tomila shifted through the small pile of documents that sat on her desk. In the center of the courtroom, bound with Ustium cuffs was Keith Wells. And well above the room in a balcony, sat the Doyle and Walton families along with Keith Wells' mother and sister, who after spending some time in a med-pod was completely healed.
"You said you found the ring?" Tomila asked, peering down at IT-4502.
"Yes, your honor," IT-4502 replied, "We found it along with several other items belonging to three missing persons."
Tomila nodded, "Well, based on this and other evidence along with testimony from these two Imperial Troopers and young Miss Wells. I sentence you, Keith Frankie Wells, to death by virines for three counts of murder in the first degree and one count of attempted murder."
The Justiciar banged her gavel and the newly minted convict was dragged from the room by two court guards.
/ / / / / / / /
High-Admiral's log, date of entry, May 16th, 2082. The ADSS Ahtu has been in Arcadis for a little over six weeks, and so far we've done quite a bit. We made enemies of a species known as the Hirogen after we prevented them from murdering a scrap-metal dealer. We blew up some sort of drug-making factory after its proprietor called me a quote 'primitive solid' whatever that means. We robbed a smuggler who was smuggling twenty-five tons of something called gold-pressed latinum. We've had to fight off no less than three attempts made by a species known as the Srivani to sneak aboard while 2-ᛒ, 3-ᛒ, 4-ᛒ, and I were having fried Crikseok at a restaurant located on a starport, we should probably stop eating there. And we spent way too much time exploring an area devoid of star systems and light of any kind while also helping an advanced civilization native to the place with their pollution problem.
1-ᛒ sat in his command chair on the ADSS Ahtu's bridge between Commander-Prime 2-ᛒ who monitored the science and ultrascanner station via a console attached to his chair, and Lieutenant-Prime 9-ᛒ who operated the navigation computer.
"Sir, ultrascanners are detecting three starships in our direct path," 2-ᛒ reported.
"Affiliation?" 1-ᛒ asked.
"One appears to be from the United Federation of Planets," 2-ᛒ responded, "The other two are cloaked Srivani."
Lieutenant-Prime 7-ᛒ turned towards 1-ᛒ, "High-Admiral, we will impact them in less than one minute."
1-ᛒ nodded, "Mr. 6-ᛒ bring us out of lightspeed and activate the cloaking device."
"Aye, sir," 6-ᛒ spoke as he slowly pulled a lever back and pressed a button.
The Ahtu, invisible to everything, came out of lightspeed near a small spoon-shaped vessel, attached to which were two even smaller vessels.
"Connect the umbilicus to the Federation ship and begin pumping exotaine through it," 1-ᛒ ordered, "Fill the ship with enough to knock out everyone on it."
With the press of several buttons and the flip of a switch, an invisible tube shot from the Ahtu and harpooned the side of the smaller vessel. As it did the tube's chameleon module was activated causing the now split open end to become identical to the ship's inner wall. A shimmery mist billowed from the umbilicus and split off in different directions as if it had a mind of its own, mostly because it did. Exotaine was actually a cover, an attempt to pass off specially programmed nanomachines as a chemical gas, these cell-sized machines could do most anything, knock people out, kill them, even cause one to be disassembled to a point where they're nothing but a puddle of thick gray-tinged fluid.
They moved throughout the ship, knocking members of both parties unconscious as they did. Finally close to an hour later, no intelligence on any of the three ships, apart from a single hologram who was totally unaware of the situation, were conscious.
"Ultrascanners show that all life signs are unconscious," 2-ᛒ said.
1-ᛒ nodded, "Good, now, Mr. 14-ᛒ order two Imperial Space Marine Raider squads sent out, they are to neutralize all Srivani."
"Aye, sir," 14-ᛒ said.
Thirty-five minutes later sixteen Imperial Space Marine Raiders wearing their living metal warsuits filed out of a large disk-shaped shuttle and into a shuttle bay they had just hacked their way into.
"Activate tactical ultrascanners," Sergeant-Prime 7775-ᛒ ordered as he pressed a button on his arm's control pad.
What the ultrascanners revealed was several unconscious aliens near a few similarly unconscious Federation crewmembers who all had some kind of device attached to or sticking out of them.
7775-ᛒ casually shot the four aliens with his silenced gauss carbine, painting the ground with yellowish blood, "We need Commander-Prime 4-ᛒ and his boys down here to remove all this junk from the feds."
"Aye, sir," Corporal-Secundus 668321-ᛒ said, "I'll contact them."
"Good, squad one you take decks one through six, we'll take seven through fifteen," 7775-ᛒ ordered, "And scramble the aliens' cloaking devices, the feds need to find out who's been screwin' with 'em."
Several hours later 4-ᛒ finished removing the last metal spike from a red-haired woman's head. The wound bled heavily before it was healed by a portable regeneration ray. The chief medical officer put down the ray and picked up a hypo full of a liquid containing hunter-killer nanites, which would destroy the genetic controls used by the now-dead aliens.
"Okay, this one's free of Srivani tech," 4-ᛒ spoke, "I think that's the last of it."
889-ᛒ pointed at a tall blonde woman, "What about this one?"
4-ᛒ walked over and examined the woman's implants, "Nope, these aren't Srivani."
"What are they then?" 889-ᛒ asked.
"Borg," 4-ᛒ said, removing his rubber gloves with two snaps.
Back on the ADSS Ahtu's bridge, 1-ᛒ pressed a button on his chair, "Mr. 3-ᛒ, I want your engineers to put type gamma flier swarmbot hives in the Federation ship's cargo bays."
"What should I put in their venom sacs, sir?" 3-ᛒ asked over the bridge's speakers.
"A mixture of torpine and lethe," 1-ᛒ replied, "They are to spy on that ship and sting anyone who comes close to discovering them."
"Aye, High-Admiral," 3-ᛒ spoke.
/ / / / / / / /
I sat on my throne watching Hogan's Heroes and drinking a manhattan when Lord-Commodore Mochán strolled in, a roll of paper in hand.
"My lord, I bring news on the invasion!" He spoke.
"Yes?" I asked, not even looking at him.
"The Borg have been completely destroyed, my lord," Mochán replied, "And within the next hour we're going to be launching an attack on the Sheliak."
"Good," I said dismissively.
"I also have something Urshu dumped on me after he wanted nothing to do with it," Mochán unrolled the piece of paper he held, "Ah! Another request from Shah Libitheus to terraform Zocrath into something not resembling death valley in every way."
"No," I spoke, "Libitheus won't get his seat of power terraformed until he admits his complicity in the theft of several persimmons from my garden."
Mochán rolled his eyes, throwing the paper into a nearby wastebasket, "You and your persimmons."
"That bastard," I grumbled, "He won't be getting any jam this year!"
"Well, what do you expect him to take?" Mochán snarked, "He doesn't like your gooseberries, red currants, or your blueberries."
"That is still no excuse to pilfer my persimmons!"
Tus Altan Lobsters- Crustaceans weighing nearly sixty pounds farmed on the water planet of Tus Altas.
Zulrukian Wild Boars- Gigantic animals farmed on the wide-open plains of Zulruk in the Leo II dwarf galaxy.
Oag- A peculiar vegetable farmed by the barbaric Uknik, an alien species native to the Coma Berenices dwarf galaxy. This vegetable is most commonly used in Luglirde, a dish favored by Emira Lilith.
Torpine- A drug used to induce a twenty-four-hour-long death-like trance, during which metabolic functions are slowed.
Lethe- A drug that causes its subject to forget what happened several minutes before it was administered.
Stay tuned for the next action chapter of The Bored Outer God II: Through the Gate!