Disclaimer: I own everything and nothing.
"So," Hegesipyle asked, "What the hell are we gonna do?"
I didn't answer, just popped another caviar canape through my mask's mouth-slit. It had been thirteen months since the ex-Saderan Emperor Zorzal had been captured and sentenced to spend the rest of his life as King of a barren planet, his only subjects being its scarce but monstrous fauna. In that time many things had happened, I re-formed Phantom, my own personal terrorist/criminal organization, three Eastern European countries, Belarus, Ukraine, and Moldova, joined together as the Confederation of Eastern Europe, Lilith had another kid, a cute little thing named V'athag, we twisted the Tholian Assembly's arm into becoming a puppet, the Sheliak Corporate had become the Duchy of Shelia, the Kelvan species became part of the Antarctic Dominion, we made contact with the Undine, they were very grateful for the utter destruction we wrought upon the Borg, and relations with New Babylon soured greatly after a very unfortunate incident involving a Babylonian fighter jet being shot down by the Flying Corps.
"These are really good!" Meresankh said, pointing to the plate of hors d'oeuvres.
"They are aren't they?" I responded, "You can thank Mochán for 'em, colonizing Oxxruth Ir was his idea, after all, that planet has a perfect environment for growing enormous beluga sturgeon."
"I reiterate my previous question," Hegesipyle said, "What the hell are we gonna do about this?"
"We're gonna wait," I replied, putting my feet up on the war room table.
"For what?" Hegesipyle questioned.
"For everyone to get here," I said.
"How do you even know that they're going to accept?" Frederick spoke, "Kim and Gallagher hate interacting with you."
I turned to him, "While that may be true, I think we have bigger problems to deal with."
Suddenly, a thin floating screen appeared out of a slit in the ceiling, on it was President Leila Kim and Secretary of Defense Harvey Gallagher.
"What do you want, Nyarlathotep?" Kim asked.
I smacked my hands against the table, "I felt it my duty to inform you that New Babylon has pulled out of the Sentinel Pact, Madam President."
"That's your problem, High-Pharaoh," Gallagher spoke, "Not ours."
"Wrong!" I shouted, "It's everyone's problem! You see, Mansur Hussein is an arrogant brat! And as the old saying goes, if an arrogant world leader isn't with us, they're against us."
"That's not an old saying," Grand Air Marshal 1 muttered.
"Which is why I am proposing Operation Brass Knuckle, a joint effort by the United States, the New Holy Roman Empire, the Second Swedish Empire, Greater Chechnya, and the Antarctic Dominion to topple Hussein from power," I announced.
"He has been bullying Greece for years now," Zulima said, "And we all know that New Babylon is behind Phantom."
"Definitely," I responded, snickering internally, "We must stop him before any more attacks occur."
Leila Kim sighed, "Sure," She shrugged.
"Fantastic!" I spoke, "Now I have a declaration of war signed by all of us, Urshu!"
Zulima turned to Frederick, "How does he have our signatures?"
Frederick waved her off, "I tried to find out something very similar once, to make a long story short I was left with no answers only more questions."
"Send this to King Mansur Hussein, please," I said, handing the letter to Urshu.
"Yes master," Urshu responded before disappearing into a shadow.
I turned back to everyone, "This is how it'll play out."
A holographic map appeared just above the war room table.
"Two invasions will take place, one from the Mediterranean, the other from the Persian Gulf. From those two sides, we'll push inwards, our approach heralded by mass bombing to soften any resistance up. As that's happening, a force made up of Antarctic-American troops will be transported via Locust VTOL," A red dot appeared on the map, "Straight into Baghdad where they'll capture the city, Hussein, and any officials they come across."
"What if he ain't there?" Wulfhild asked.
"Oh, he'll be there, alright," I responded, breaking out in a diabolical laugh.
/ / / / / / / /
Bjarne Thoresen sat quietly in the crew quarters of a C-900 heavy cargo ship known as the ASC Druidia, reading a letter from his wife back on Earth. By the Pharaoh how he missed Eleanor, but a spacer's salary wasn't something to sniff at, and he wanted the best for his future children.
"Well, that is my work done for this day!" Said a mechanical voice from somewhere outside the room.
A nine-foot-tall faded crimson automata walked through the door and proceeded to give laying in a bunk the old college try. GEM, good old antiquated, malfunctioning GEM. A crewmember bought the old rustbucket years ago on a planet in the frontier, they thought they were getting a new decoration, an antique from the early years of the industry, but no, they got a functional automata that thought it was an organic.
"How are you doing GEM?" Bjarne asked.
After failing to clamber into a bunk, GEM had decided to just stand awkwardly in the corner, its antennae swiveling.
The automata turned its large boxy 'head' towards him, "I am doing great, humanoid Bjarne."
"That's fantastic GEM," The Norwegian responded, "Do you want to go down to the mess? I heard they're serving cheesesteaks today."
GEM made an odd jerk, its version of a nod, "Good idea, humanoid Bjarne, I require nutrition."
Man and automata walked out and down the corridor where they entered a lift tube.
"Mess hall," Bjarne said.
Instantly they were sucked up into the tube and carried through a myriad of turns before being deposited in a vast room home to over one-quarter of a million tables. GEM and Bjarne had scarcely taken two steps into the cafeteria when the red warning lights began flashing, a high-pitched and very much annoying klaxon started blaring, and a quarter of the wall-mounted ship map started flashing red.
"Attention all Druidia crewmembers, we are being boarded, please proceed to any nearby armory and take up arms to defend the ship and cargo." Came Captain Imbeault's voice over the wall-mounted speakers.
Bjarne sighed, flicking open a vibro-switchblade, while out of GEM's right arm popped a large superfine blade and out its shoulder came an old pulse laser.
"It's on the other side of the ship," Bjarne said, "Deck forty-three subsection chi."
GEM and Bjarne once again rocketed up and were pulled through a maze of turns before being dropped off on a deck in chaos. All around there were crewmembers engaged in hand-to-hand combat with all manner of beings, aliens, humans, old rusty automata, all sharing a single similarity, the bird-of-prey symbol of the New Huns.
The corridor was heavy with the metallic burning scent that came from vibro-weapons. Bjarne had lost track of how many of these fights he'd been in during his time as a spacer. Without a word, he dashed towards a human Hun and stabbed the man several times. The Norwegian felt thick warm blood pour over his hand.
GEM meanwhile threw an alien Hun down the corridor where it impacted several other Huns, each with a separate gruesome thump or crack.
Bjarne spat out a tooth, the taste of copper filled his mouth. And a small trickle of blood ran down his chin. The Norwegian lashed out with his foot. It connected with an alien Hun's knee, causing a gruesome cracking sound. The alien screamed in tremendous pain and crumpled to the ground, its knee at an odd angle.
The battle continued for what felt like hours, with GEM and Bjarne eventually going to deck forty-two after forty-three had been cleared of Huns. But finally, through copious amounts of blood and sweat, the boarders were repelled and the ship was safe.
"GEM? Could you take this outta my back?" Bjarne asked, turning his back to the automata.
GEM reached up and plucked an ape-like alien's vibro-blade from the Norwegian's upper back, eliciting a grunt of pain from him.
"I am injured, humanoid Bjarne," GEM said.
Bjarne ripped the sleeve of his dark blue jumpsuit off and tied it tightly around a deep cut in his bicep, "I am too, big guy. Medbay."
/ / / / / / / /
Twenty-five guards of the 884th Legion, and a similar number of soldiers from the US Army's 82nd Airborne Division, slid gravity cloaks over their heads. These cloaks were made out of solid-state gravitic circuitry which, when activated using a neural interface, generated a contragravity field, thus allowing one to fly.
"You sure these things are safe?" Private First Class Joel Mueller asked, tugging at his gravity cloak.
Korpral 1-Y8326 scoffed, "Definitely."
Mueller relaxed.
"They've been fine ever since Aelius' boys got around that spontaneous combustion issue the prototype had," 1-Y8326 spoke.
The US soldier paled at the Korpral's words.
Prime-Sergeant 1-Y34 suddenly spoke up, "We're nearly over the target area! Ten seconds to jump!"
As he said this, the rear door opened revealing the hundreds of other Locust Utility VTOLs in the sky around them, all with their rear doors in the process of opening or already open. The Prime-Sergeant then began to count down.
"Ten."
"Nine."
"Eight."
"Seven."
"Six.
"Five."
"Four.
"Three."
"Two."
"One. Go! Go! Go!"
They surged forward, jumping out into the chilly air and hurtling towards the ground. One by one they activated their cloaks, the circuitry glowing blue as their descent was slowed to a reasonable pace. Several minutes later, a guard sniped two Babylonian soldiers standing at the gates of Mansur Hussein's royal palace. They dropped to the ground instantly dead and smoking slightly.
The first guard with their boots touching the asphalt immediately ran to the gates and attached a plasma breaching charge to it. Backing up a few feet, he pressed a button on his forearm, the charge went off with a boom. Blowing a hole in the metal gates, the edges of which were slightly melted.
A few minutes later, the entire 884th Legion and 82nd Airborne had landed. Proceeding to storm the palace, the mixed force cleared out the first floor, then the second, then the third, before finally reaching the fourth and final floor.
"Breaching!" 1-Y701 said, pressing a button on his forearm.
After the boom they rushed in, only to find not the resistance they were expecting, but Mansur Hussein and his entire cabinet of Generals trussed up like stuffed turkeys.
"Guess this is what the High-Pharaoh meant when he promised the Hussein would be here," Prime-Commander 1-Y1 chuckled, idly kicking one of them in the stomach.
/ / / / / / / /
"C'mere you little creature," I said, carefully gathering a giggling V'athag up from their baby jumper. Their skin was flashing wildly between shades of cherry red and mustard yellow like some demented cuttlefish.
Lilith's children all appeared to have inherited a bit of my shapeshifting abilities, a diluted form, however. Unlike my ability to completely alter my form into something of any size, their abilities seemed to be similar to that of a metamorphmagus.
Hermione, who was visiting seeing as she had been named V'athag's godmother, looked up from perusing the ancient Hyborian Grimoire of Ruin, "I have never seen you like this," She stated dryly.
"Hush you," I grumbled, conjuring a realistic human heart plush for the infant.
"Have you already secured her a place at the Rosenberg?" Hermione asked.
"No, no, no, my dear," I chuckled as V'athag's skin changed color to match the heart plush, "No offense to Frederick, but this little one's going somewhere better. The Institute of Vor Phushos, it'll be completed about two years before they're old enough to attend."
"You're building a school on South Georgia island?" Hermione questioned.
I held a finger up, "And a space slash airport."
Hermione nodded, "Interesting."
I cast a little life bubble around V'athag before setting them down in their baby jumper and walking over to my desk, taking an Imperium Jupiter No. 1 cigar out of an elegantly carved humidor, "You want a cigar? Imperium just came out with a new line, the Jupiter."
Hermione looked up, "Sure, why not?"
Taking a second cigar out of my humidor, I tossed it to her and lit my own with a blast of blue flame. It was then that Ur'elotl, Lilith's second offspring, burst in, she had left a while ago to find a spare charger for her handheld FTL computer. She had a very interesting style going on with her nineteen-fifties baracuta jacket, Errol Flynn hairstyle, and boiler suit, Lilith said she was going through a phase, I agreed, Ur'elotl didn't.
"Hello, little bearcat," I said, conjuring a realistic human brain plush to go along with the heart, making V'athag squeal, the sound coming out oddly through the life bubble.
Ur'elotl scowled, sighing petulantly, "Don't call me that." She grumbled.
"Why not, little bearcat?" I asked, puffing on my cigar.
"I'm not a baby anymore," She groused.
I walked over and patted her on the shoulder, "Lemme tell you something, little bearcat, you'll never stop being my baby granddaughter. So you better come to terms with that nickname because it'll be around forever."
Ur'elotl grew red in the face and Hermione had to smother a chuckle, "You said she was going to Hogwarts, what house is she in?" The Shahbanu asked.
"Hufflepuff!" I responded my tone filled with pride, "Top in her year! A model student too, no one believed Brutus Malfoy, Draco's grandson, when he said she beat him up."
Ur'elotl's face began to resemble a ripe strawberry.
"Draco? Whatever happened to him?" Hermione asked, "Last I heard he was trying drum up support for a piece of anti-Imperial Trooper legislation."
I nodded, "He's in Blackrock. Lord Malfoy was a very naughty boy, he thought he could get away with planning an assassination, ended up attempting to memory charm a pair of Kommissars."
"Couldn't have happened to a better person," Hermione said.
/ / / / / / / /
High-Admiral 1-ᛒ's log, date of entry, August 26, 2083. The ADSS Ahtu has been in the universe designated Arcadis for approximately one year, one month, and thirty days. And what a hell of a time it's been! Apparently, the entire Hirogen species has effectively declared war on their White Whale, that being our Yog-Sothoth-class Super-Battleship. The Annari also put a bounty on us after we destroyed their blockade. Reminds me of the First Interstellar War, a conflict with the Sky Outlaws that started around the middle of our ten-year mission. Yes, we were quite the force back then, I earned two nicknames in that time, the first was'Fyf Vriheuz Dyjaad' which means 'The Spirit of Destruction' in the Sky Outlaw's native language. While the second 'The Antarctian Karl von Müller' was something that came from the Imperial Departement of Truth.
"Long-range ultrascanner is picking up another one of those big Hirogen ships approximately one-hundred-thirty-one light-years away," 2-ᛒ spoke lazily.
1-ᛒ scratched his head, "Keep tabs on 'em. If they appear to be following us, lay down a stealth minefield."
"Aye, High-Admiral," 2-ᛒ said.
Lieutenant-Prime 6-ᛒ turned to face the Ahtu's commander, "We'll be coming out of lightspeed in a few seconds."
True to the first helmsman's words, the enormous spherical ship appeared in a flash of purple light.
"Scan the area twenty light-years around us," 1-ᛒ ordered, sitting up in the command chair.
2-ᛒ nodded, he swiped at a screen on his console before pressing a button, "The Borg life-sign Ultrascanner Installation Two Zero Five detected yesterday is approximately seventeen light-years from our current position." He said after a minute, "It appears to be on Voyager."
"Once again," 1-ᛒ murmured, "Plot a course for Voyager, Mr. 9-ᛒ."
"Aye," 9-ᛒ said, and a few seconds later, "Course plotted, High-Admiral." He reported.
"Lightspeed factor 3M, Mr. 6-ᛒ."
The helmsman nodded slowly pushing a lever forward while also pressing a button. The Ahtu elongated before disappearing in a flash of purple, it sped through the vastness of space at three million times the speed of light, appearing two minutes later directly in front of the small spoon-shaped Federation vessel.
"Activate the tractor beam," 1-ᛒ ordered, "Power jamming mode."
"Aye," 10-ᛒ spoke, his hands flying across the weapons console.
A small dot of bluish light appeared on the Ahtu's hull, from it streamed an invisible force that distorted the space around it. The tractor beam latched onto the Federation starship. Voyager's lights flickered as power to all but the necessities was partially blocked.
"Hail them, Mr. 14-ᛒ," The High-Admiral ordered.
The communications officer turned a knob to the left and flipped a switch before giving 1-ᛒ a thumbs up.
"Hello again, Captain Janeway," 1-ᛒ smirked.
14-ᛒ faced his commanding officer a minute later, "We have a reply coming in from Voyager."
"Put it on holo," 1-ᛒ ordered.
The large hologram of Arcadis' milky way in the center of the bridge broke apart and morphed into the form of Captain Kathryn Janeway, "We meet again, High-Admiral was it?"
"Yes, High-Admiral 1-ᛒ of the Super-Battleship Ahtu," He responded. "Are you aware that a Borg drone is currently residing aboard your ship?"
The red-haired woman's face became blank, she would be grand at poker, "Yes I am, but I don't see how a Borg drone on my ship is any of your concern."
1-ᛒ chuckled, "You misunderstand, it is not my concern, it's my government's, see Lord-Commodore Mochán has promised High-Pharaoh Nyarlathotep ot Thror'luhhir that all traces of the Borg Collective would be erased from this galaxy."
"I see," Janeway blinked, "High-Admiral, the Borg drone we have is not and was never part of the Collective."
1-ᛒ nodded, smiling slightly, "Then I must ask you to be patient while I inform my superiors of this fact. End holo."
The hologram in the center of the bridge broke apart and morphed once again into a map of Arcadis' milky way.
"Send a message to the Ecstasy of Gold, Mr. 14-ᛒ," The High-Admiral ordered.
10-ᛒ turned to 1-ᛒ, "Sir, should I deactivate the tractor beam?"
"No," 1-ᛒ responded, "We'll keep 'em in one place until this situation has been dealt with."
Several minutes later on the USS Voyager.
"Power has been cut off to all but the barest dregs of life-support and shielding," Ensign Harry Kim, who had a heavy replicated wool blanket wrapped around him, reported.
Captain Kathryn Janeway, who had two replicated blankets wrapped around her pulled said blankets tighter, "Is there any way to disrupt their tractor beam?"
"I honestly don't see why we'd want to," Kim responded, "Our sensor stations overload if we try scanning anything even associated with the High-Admiral's ship, what they did gather before they started giving off smoke is that it operates using a type of energy we've never even seen before, same with the alloy its made out of. I don't see us coming out on top if we were to fight them."
"A logical assumption," Lieutenant Commander Tuvok stated.
Janeway nodded before turning to their resident ex-drone, "Seven, did the Borg ever encounter this species?"
"Not to my knowledge," Seven of Nine replied.
Lieutenant Tom Paris suddenly spoke up, "What if they're not from here?"
"What do you mean?"
"We know they have a highly advanced method of faster-than-light travel," Paris said, "Could it be possible that they are not from the Milky Way galaxy?"
"But why would they come here?" Asked Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres.
"Exploration," Tuvok said, "Or possibly-"
"Invasion," Janeway finished.
Back on the ADSS Ahtu.
"-Yeah, I don't really care about one drone still kicking," I, in hologram form, said, casually putting my feet up on my desk, "As long as it's not gonna start up a new collective. We have more pressing matters to deal with, like this New Babylon situation and conquering the Breen Confederacy."
"What shall we do then, my lord?" Lord-Commodore Mochán, also in hologram form, asked.
I flung an elaborately-constructed dart at my dartboard, which hung from the mounted head of a stag-moose, "Whatever the High-Admiral wants, kill it, study it, leave it alone, it's his choice. But keep still keep an eye on it, I want a monthly checkup, just to see that it ain't doing anything untoward."
"My lord?" 1-ᛒ spoke.
"Yes?" I asked, throwing a second dart, this one splitting the first dart in half with the crack of breaking wood.
"What should I tell Janeway?" 1-ᛒ said, "She's bound to ask questions about us."
"Remember the three Ls, my friend!" I responded, "Lie, lie, and lie. Oh! And check your zipper- wait, no, that last one's for public speaking. But anyway, spin her a tall tale, High-Admiral, because we can't have anyone in this universe discovering our plans."
"I shall, my lord," 1-ᛒ spoke, putting a clenched hand to his chest in salute, the Kalbat leather of his black gauntlet-style gloves creaking.
"Good! I'm afraid I must go now, Mansur Hussein will be arriving at the castle soon," I said, breaking off from the conference holo.
1-ᛒ turned to Mochán, who said with a shrug, "Well, you heard the High-Pharaoh, hop to it!"
The High-Admiral once again put a fist to his chest, "Aye, Lord-Commodore."
Mochán nodded and also broke off from the conference holo.
"Mr. 14-ᛒ, hail Voyager," 1-ᛒ ordered, whirling around and walking back to the command chair.
"Aye," 14-ᛒ replied, flipping a switch and giving the High-Admiral a thumbs-up.
1-ᛒ leaned back, "Captain Janeway, High-Pharaoh Nyarlathotep has spoken on the matter of your Borg drone."
A few minutes later, 14-ᛒ spoke up, "We have a reply coming in."
"Put it on holo," 1-ᛒ ordered.
14-ᛒ saluted, "Aye."
The large hologram in the center of the bridge broke apart and morphed into the form of Janeway.
"Captain," 1-ᛒ greeted.
"High-Admiral," Janeway spoke.
"The High-Pharaoh has allowed your drone to live," 1-ᛒ said, "But it appears we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other."
Janeway's brows furrowed, "Whatever do you mean?"
"I am to check in on your drone every month to 'see that it ain't doing anything untoward,'" 1-ᛒ responded.
"Are you now?" Janeway said, rubbing her forehead, "Just one question, though."
"Shoot," 1-ᛒ spoke.
"Where do you originate?" Janeway questioned.
"Ah. We are from a galaxy known to you as Hyperion," 1-ᛒ lied smoothly, "And before you ask, we're here because the Borg were nosing around our outer colonies."
Janeway's eyebrows rose, "So your High-Pharaoh ordered that the Borg be destroyed. How far along are you with that, by the way?"
1-ᛒ chuckled heartily, "Oh, they were annihilated by four of our battlefleets over a year ago. I'm afraid all that remains of the once mighty Borg Collective are your drone and Miss Seven of Nine."
The Captain's eyes widened, "Annihilated? Then why are you still here and not back in your home galaxy?"
"The High-Pharaoh ordered that another exploration mission be conducted, and as I am who explored most of the Triangulum galaxy," 1-ᛒ lied, "He chose me as the best candidate to lead it."
"Ah," Janeway said.
2-ᛒ turned to 1-ᛒ and mouthed 'Hirogen ship on its way.' The High-Admiral nodded, "I'm sorry to cut this short, Captain Janeway, but it appears that a hostile ship is on its way. See you next month."
Janeway gave a curt nod, "See you then."
"End holo," 1-ᛒ ordered.
14-ᛒ flipped a switch and the hologram morphed back into its original form.
"Mr. 2-ᛒ, how far away are the Hirogen?" 1-ᛒ asked.
"One-hundred-thirty light-years," 2-ᛒ replied.
1-ᛒ nodded, "Mr. 9-ᛒ, plot a course for that ship."
"Aye, High-Admiral," 9-ᛒ said and a few minutes later, "Course plotted, sir."
"Mr. 6-ᛒ, lightspeed factor 10M."
"Aye, sir," 6-ᛒ responded, pressing a few buttons and slowly pushing a lever forward. Meanwhile 10-ᛒ pressed several buttons, powering off the tractor beam holding Voyager in place.
The Ahtu elongated unnaturally before disappearing in a flash of purple light as it launched forward at ten-million tomes the speed of light. The gigantic super-battleship arrived near the Hirogen ship three minutes later.
"Match the Hirogen ship's course and speed," 1-ᛒ ordered.
"Aye," 6-ᛒ said.
"Mr. 10-ᛒ target their warp core with our gamma-ray lasers," 1-ᛒ spoke.
10-ᛒ gazed into his targeting scanner, pressing a small button on the side of it, "Core targeted, sir, firing now." He said, hitting a larger button on his console.
A beam of bright green light emerged from a projector on the Ahtu's upper hull. With a high-pitched buzzing it slammed into the Hirogen ship's shields, overloading them instantly and continuing on melting through its hull. Once the beam struck the warp core, a catastrophic explosion ignited the artificial atmosphere burning the Hirogen inside alive, roasting them inside their armor. Finally, the Hirogen ship exploded into large chunks of red-hot metal.
"Good job, Mr. 10-ᛒ," 1-ᛒ said, "Mr. 9-ᛒ, plot a course for Deep Space Nine."
/ / / / / / / /
"Well, well, well, well, wellidy, well, well, well," I said, folding my arms in front of me, "Isn't this a grand reunion."
Frederick rolled his eyes at my dramatics. Mansur Hussein did nothing of the sort, as he had been hung from the ceiling by his wrists.
"You thought you wouldn't get your comeuppance," I spoke, flicking the King's forehead, "But you were wrong! We all know you've been giving money to Phantom! And for that, you will be punished! Now sign this."
I stuck a pen in his mouth and held up a document that gave the Antarctic Dominion most of New Babylon, Greater Chechnya all of Anatolia, and Frederick a bit of the Arabian peninsula. I thought it better to get this part out of the way now instead of waiting for our inevitable military victory.
Several minutes later, I whipped the document away and gazed at the King's signature, "Ah, good, send him to Onaris IV. Put him in that Nissen hut we built for Hosni Mubarak, he died right?"
Lord-Commodore Mochán nodded, "Yup. Eaten by one of those giant subterranean worms back in two-thousand-six."
"Good!" I said, "He can keep that idiot Zorzal company, well, if he ever reaches the other side of the planet."
Please Stay Tuned For the Next Action Chapter of The Bored Outer God II: Through the Gate!
Kalbat- A large bison-like creature native to the wide-open plains of Capella VII, commonly used for both food and clothing.
Blackrock Penitentiary- An Antarctian maximum security prison opened in 2026, replacing the earlier penal colonies dotted across the Australian outback. This prison is located across the entirety of the challenger deep in the Mariana Trench.