Chapter 79 - Defectors

<Fleet Base Bagthera, Alpha Centauri System>

Captain Vaughn (or Empress Merida, depending on what hat she was wearing at the moment), smiled as she walked into the Combat Information Center of the Fleet Base. When they’d begun to turn the tide against the Usurper’s forces, and were able to pivot from simply staying alive and free to planning the assaults that would retake their Empire, she had never assumed that they would be able to take the Fleet Base intact. An attack in numbers through the gate had never worked before, not since people learned to defend the things. And the logistics of having her already sketchy supply train extend all the way to Alpha Centauri without the fleet base to back her up were… disheartening, to say the least.

But in her wildest dreams, she had not believed that they would not only have been able to capture the Fleet Base completely intact, but also get three fourths of the defending ships to surrender without fighting, and only having to destroy seven percent of Second Fleet before the rest surrendered. This was a victory that would be spoken about for generations, in no small part because of the necessity of keeping some parts of the operation classified to keep the same techniques from being used against them in the future.

She didn’t know what ‘proprietary technology’ Commodore Mollen had that allowed him to infiltrate the Fleet Base, but given the fact that he’d gone alone, instead of sending a full team, she figured he’d probably uncovered some Lost Tech somewhere in his travels. He HAD apparently spent some time on kisArra, in Confederation space, and that place was rumored to have been home to an ancient colony long before humans expanded into that area of space. She liked to think that he dug something up in the sands, and was clever enough to figure out a way to use it to his benefit. It fit the ‘dashing rogue’ mystique he liked to paint for himself, after all.

“You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?” Merida snapped her head to the side to look at Lucio, raising an eyebrow as she did so, questioningly. He simply smiled, and said, “The Commodore. You’re thinking about him again right?”

“Wh-what do you mean by that? Have you been using psy on me?”

“Oh please. Remember the psy blocker you got, to keep out mental influence? No, I don’t need psy for this. You were licking your lips, like you were picturing a very tasty dish.”

Merida blushed hard at that. “I would never!”

“And you just confirmed it with that cute blush, mon Capitan. Oh, I’m only teasing you, of course. That is certainly a delightfully sinful dish that I wouldn’t mind eating, myself. But don’t think you’d be able to make him a consort or anything. He’s far too nomadic a Nomad for that to work out. The best you’d be able to do is to be a willing woman, eager to please him whenever he blows into port. Unless you gave up everything and ran off to join his crew, like your sister did.”

Merida sighed. “And those are all the reasons I cannot do it. Abandoning the Empire? Going off living as a mercenary? I couldn’t do that. And even if I could, I wouldn’t want to steal Sheila’s chance at happiness away from her. And I’m not sure I could handle simply being another member of that man’s harem.”

“Captain, we have multiple unscheduled transitions!”

The playful banter died instantly, and the mantle of military leader fell across Merida’s shoulders. “On screen! How many ships? Do we have IFF codes?”

“Captain, I’m reading over one hundred new ships in the system! IFF puts them as elements of Fourth, Eighth, and Tenth Fleets!”

“Incoming transmission!”

“On screen.”

The display screen blanked from the tactical view of the system, to show an older Japanese man in the uniform of a Fleet Admiral. “This is Admiral Yamamoto of Eighth Fleet. I am the one currently in command of the task force you see before you. I apologize for the delay in our arrival, but it took some time to coordinate and arrange a new commander for Fourth Fleet. But we are here now, and we have come to pledge ourselves to the true Empress, Merida Vaughn.”

A tear tried to force its way from her eye unbidden, and Merida quickly blinked it away. “All ships stand down. Welcome Admiral Yamamoto. It is good to see you again, Sensei. If you would come to the Fleet Base, I believe we have a lot to discuss.”

“Of course, my Empress. We’ll be on station in four hours.”

<Tactical Conference Room, Fleet Base Bagthera. Four hours later.>

Merida smiled as the officers came in. Surrounding her here were officers from the Fleet she’d led away from Sol, the battered remnants of those who remained loyal to the Empire instead of the Usurper, and those who had now joined her, either through surrender (at Edena, or here at Alpha Centauri), or through the realization that they were simply on the wrong side.

She looked closely at the commanders that had come in from the new fleets. Admiral Yamamoto she knew, of course. He had taught several courses at the Academy when she was there, and she was gratified that he, unlike some of the other instructors, had not been cowed by her family name, or attempted to use her influence to get her father’s ear. That meant that when he praised her for her work, or criticized her for her failures, he was legitimate and fair in both. He made her the naval officer she was today, and it was because of his teachings, and others, that she refused to let that bastard Travis win.

The new commander of Fourth Fleet was apparently a recently promoted Admiral that had been freed from a slave world just before the Bagthera operation. Another of Commodore Mollen’s feats, apparently. Somehow he’d found where political prisoners who refused to accept the ‘new order’ that Travis was pushing were being kept. Admiral Han looked hungry to be in the fight. From the few reports she’d had on where Han had been found, Merida empathized completely.

Tenth Fleet’s commander was another Admiral who was a colleague of Yamamoto’s. Admiral Jeffery Sinclair had been in the Navy for over fifty years, and though he still looked like a man in his thirties, he was practically an instillation on his ship. Seeing him off the Babylon was a rarity. His defense of the Line during the last Ihm war was still taught in the Academy.

There were several other captains and commanding officers in the new group, but the only other newcomer she needed to know at the moment was General Melissa Greer. Apparently, she’d been another ‘guest’ at the slave ranch where Admiral Han had been recovered, along with several members of her staff. After being freed, they had quickly returned to their old unit, and to read the official report, ‘discussed their displeasure with the new commanding officer at length, at which time the CO reported to the morgue for further deployment’.

Stepping to the head of the conference table, she waited for everyone to quiet down. The fact that a mere Captain of a superdreadnought was in overall command of an operation where multiple admirals were present was… unusual, but given her other role as Empress, no one questioned it. Especially since she had let the Admirals control the battles in the field, while she fought her ship.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, on behalf of my father, the late Emperor, and all the true servants of the Empire who have fallen due to the trickery and treason of Travis and certain members of the nobility whose ambition outweighed their loyalty to their liege, I thank you all for coming. The ships gathered here represent the largest striking force ever assembled in human history. Never before has so large a force been gathered for striking a single target.”

“Of course, given the nature of that target, I would be lying if I said we could have twice as many ships as we currently do, and be assured of victory. This is the single largest striking force in human history, and we are going to be assaulting the single largest defensive block in human space. We are going to be striking Sol itself, the heart of the Empire. For three thousand years, from the first Russian forays into space until now, Sol has stood unconquered, unchallenged, untested. And so it is only fitting that humans be the ones to test her.”

“Let us be clear. This will be no simple raid, no sneaking in and battering a few ships before fleeing. This is not a pirate raid or a stealth attack on shipping lines. We are going to fly into the teeth of the strongest defensive position in human space, possibly in the galaxy. Not all of us will make it through the coming storm. But if we do not do this, if we simply cut and run, then we betray the oaths we took to stand and defend the Empire against all those who would attack her, against all enemies, foreign or domestic. We betray our fathers and brothers, our mothers and sisters, and all those brave humans who have fought and bled and died for us to be here, now, as one of the most powerful nations amongst the stars.”

“And if we should fail, we doom them all to tyranny and enslavement. No, not the tyranny of a mortal ruler who will someday pass away. No, not the enslavement of collars or chips used so freely, too freely, by those with power in our Empire against those without. What I am speaking of is something far, far worse. If we should fail in reclaiming Terra and Sol from the Usurper, then the human race is doomed to be under the uncaring, unfeeling booth of a mad AI, our very souls corrupted and twisted in service to It, claiming It as a god!”

She paused, and then said, “Yes, the rumors you’ve no doubt heard throughout the fleet are true. There is a new ‘cult’ that has sprung up, starting in Sol, around my brother, the Usurper. This cult claims that the ‘Lord Deus’ has come to show ‘Holy Terra’ her destiny amongst the stars, as the conqueror of all things. And they promise immortality to those who follow them and are devout in their belief. Oh, not the immortality in heaven that religions have preached for time immemorial. They say that Lord Deus can grant them immortality in this world, something that had before been available only to the Nomads.”

“What they do not say is the price, the terrible price that comes with this false immortality. I have spoken with several Nomads, and, through them, know the truth of their version of immortality. They live in another world, where their true forms lie. But through technology, they are able to project their consciousness into this world, taking on forms like those we are familiar with. When one of them dies, the connection between their world and ours is severed, and it takes time to reestablish it. But because they never died a true death, they lay no claim to true immortality.”

“But this Cult of Deus is different. Their immortality is a lie that claims to be true. The sentient AI Deus, who had long been trapped beneath the molten rock and acidic winds of Venus, has, it seems, found a way to copy and upload a human consciousness from one body to another. So long as the record of a dead cultist remains, even if they are not within range of one of the cloning facilities at the time of their death, they can still be brought back if this record is brought to the AI. They die a true death, and then a mere copy takes over in a new body, a puppet in a meat suit.”

“And they would be a puppet. For the AI corrupts its servants, brainwashing them until there is nothing left but loyalty to a glorified program with delusions of grandeur. It is for this reason that we have so stringently purged the Fleet of any cultists we’ve found, cutting them out like a cancer before they and their influence could spread. But if we are to capture Sol, we must go into the heart of their territory, and we must acknowledge that every last cultist must be destroyed. But destroying them is a mercy to the people they were before, granting them vengeance against the machine slaves that murdered their old selves.”

“With that in mind, we have a campaign to prepare. Let’s get to it.”

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Issue I - Origin Stories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075SHXQS1

The Kalipshae Affair (A First Contact Short Story): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0739V6R6T

Chapter 78 - Interlude From the Home Front

(Black Star Company private shipyards, Dimiya System)

Nondrin stood in the main control center for the shipyards, and just stared at the screens. To no one in particular, he said, “I’m not drunk enough for this.” That got a round of polite chuckles from those around him, as he began going through the newest additions to the Black Star Fleet.

Oh, the personnel issues weren’t a problem, although it was surprising to have so many people added to the rosters all at once, Nondrin didn’t have any problem guessing where they all came from. After all, the freaking superdreadnought that had just been towed into the yards was a pretty good clue, even if the little corvette and the carrier that had come in with it hadn’t shared the news of the Battle of Edena.

Towing a superdreadnought across star systems was not an easy proposition, so it had taken a while, even using a Gateway to shorten the distance, for the superdreadnought to be brought into the yards after the battle. Nondrin had had plenty of warning this was going to happen, but there wasn’t anything quite like seeing a superdreadnought pulling into your yards. Especially when you were used to working on freighters for the most part.

Shaking his head, he called up the orders that the Master had sent for them regarding the ships. “Hmm. Looks like all three ships have been renamed, and we need to make those changes to their transponders and paint while we upgrade them.”

One of the workers in the control room laughed. “Oh hell. What is he going to do with THAT? I mean, I thought the Shinokage was a beast, but a superdreadnought?”

Nondrin shook his head. “Well, the carrier formerly known as Radiant Dawn is going to be renamed Dykhaniye Smerti. I’m told it translates from an Earth language to ‘Death’s Breath’. Given the loadout this thing is getting, I think it qualifies.”

“What is it getting?”

“Well, they’re updating the power core and engines, giving it some more powerful point defense, and somehow getting a stealth rig for this thing. It won’t be as stealthy as the little ships since it isn’t getting the hull job, but between the paint and the stealth rig it will be a helluvalot harder to track it down unless you already had eyes on it. Makes sense, since we don’t have a ton of proper escorts, yet.”

“I dunno, have you seen the specs on those gunboats we’ve been building? Those things are faster than anything bigger than a fighter, and I swear they’re almost all power core and engine!”

Nondrin nodded. “Which makes sense, since the crazy designer gave them a battle cruiser’s main gun with a load of shipkiller missiles to boot, and shields to match a frigate. Swarm of those will ruin ANYBODY’S day. Oh sure, a superdreadnought might swat one of them out of the sky in a couple hits, but you could build a couple hundred of them for the cost of one superdreadnought, almost. And you only have to worry about an on-board crew of five.”

“How many fighters we have to build for that carrier? I know we already have two of the Return’s sisters built and ready, just filling out crews, but surely we aren’t doing straight Raptors for the Smerti? I mean, they’re nasty as stealth fighters, but they don’t have the weapon capacity for bombers, right?”

“Yeah, well, the eggheads have been thinking about that since they first finished the design for the Raptors. Which is why we got two new designs coming down the pipe. The Thunderbolt IV is what they’re calling a ‘space superiority fighter’. Supposed to be able to mix it up with any fighters or bombers that come their way, and take a beating while they dish it out, either with missiles or that huge ass gun of theirs. And the Dragon is our bomber. Apparently, they handle about as well as shuttles, which means for fighters they’re crap, but they live up to their name. In addition to their normal missiles and guns, each Dragon has two Dragonbreath antimass missiles.”

“Antimass?”

“You know the gravity bubble we use so we can accelerate at decent speeds without becoming a stain on the bulkhead? Well, some egghead got the idea to screw with that idea to make missiles deadlier. Take a 100 kilo rod, and stick the engine on the back of it. Use a bubble so that the engine that would be throwing this thing at, say, .1c with its normal mass is now dealing with something that effectively weighs only 20 kilos. The engine is able to push that sucker a helluvalot faster. But just before impact, you flip the field, and make that 100 kilo mass effectively a 500 kilo mass, going at significant fractions of lightspeed. If it works with the bombers, they may start replacing ship missiles with them.”

“Fuck me.”

“The Smerti is getting a squadron of Raptors for recon and stealth missions, three squadrons of Thunderbolts, and one of Dragons. And now you know why I need my first drink.”

“So, that’s the carrier. What about that little corvette?”

“The Jubilee? Well, the Master likes the name of that one, so it is staying. She’s getting the standard paint job, but she’s going to be the primary on the escorts for the Smerti, working with the gunboats and the fighters. Seems she’s also going to be the testbed for some experimental weapons.”

“That… seems almost normal. What’s the catch?”

“The catch is what we’re going to do to the Alamo. Well, she’s the Nightforge. We’re tearing out and reworking most of her insides, and making her into a heavily armed, heavily armored, nasty as all hell mobile fucking shipyard and manufacturing base. Big enough that we’ll be able to do work on the Shadowdancer or her sisters in the field, or build new ships in place. And carrying parasite ports for twelve gunboats, so the crews don’t have to spend ALL their time in those cramped things when not at a base.”

“And that’s why you need the other drinks, huh? Mind if I join you?”

Nondrin sighed. “Still got an hour until we’re off shift. Get the ships in the bays, and the crews working, and then we’ll share a round. No rest for the wicked.”

(Black Star Company Residential Platform, Dimiya System)

The counselor’s office was full of nice, warm tones, designed to feel safe, comfortable. There were bookshelves with actual books on them, and nice comfortable chairs, in addition to the couch. And it had just that level of noise where it wasn’t silent, but you weren’t having to talk over the noise. The old-fashioned mechanical clock could just barely be heard tick-tick-ticking along.

The counselor had had a successful practice on Jagloth, before the Legion. When her husband, who worked at the local shipyard, sold himself to secure their passage off the planet, she promised him she’d follow wherever his servitude took him. Thank the Maker that it took him to Dimiya, where he worked under Nondrin Caskhead, who was in a similar position. When her husband’s Master learned about her profession, he immediately took her on as the company counselor. That first year she’d been the busiest she’d ever been, helping all the people who had been displaced by Jagloth come to terms with their new position. She hoped being in the same boat, so to speak, helped them take her advice, even if she sometimes had to bother her husband to listen to her own little worries at times.

Since then, though, things had begun calming down. The Black Star Company was making tons of money, and the Owner made sure that ‘his’ people had everything they could need. Sure, they weren’t living in luxury, but considering that most of them were debt slaves who had been expecting horrors, the relative comfort and actual privacy won him a horde of followers who would gladly go where he led.

Now, she had more time on her hands, though there were still new cases that came through now and then, as stress built up or new people were inducted into the company. Her current patient was one of those recent purchases. According to the file, she’d been a well-known performer until her stance against alien slaves had someone kidnap and enslave her, before selling her as a sex slave.

“So, Liviana. How are we feeling today?”

The fallen idol cringed at the use of her name. She was curled up on the couch, trying to hide away from everything in the room, including the counselor. Including herself. “Turn it on! Turn the chip on! I don’t want it! I’m not me when it is her!”

The idol was referring to the Stepford protocols on the slave chip she’d been implanted with. Before transferring her back to Dimiya, the Owner had left the Stepford protocols in place, though on a more ‘calm, compliant’ setting than the ‘sultry sex slave’ setting it had been on. The reason was painfully obvious to anyone. Liviana had retreated within herself, using the ‘other her’ the Stepford protocols created to hide from what had been done to her. She didn’t have to be the victim if she wasn’t her.

That, of course, was entirely unhealthy, which was why the Owner had forwarded the counselor an encrypted code to turn the girl’s Stepford mode on and off, but restricted to only the ‘calm’ setting, and logging every activation and deactivation, to prevent abuse. Now she was faced with a situation not unlike some addiction cases. Liviana used the Stepford protocols to escape from being her, so she wouldn’t have to face the trauma she’d suffered. Helping her meant gradually weaning her off the Stepford mode while offering counseling to deal with the trauma.

The counselor sighed internally as she smiled a professional smile at Liviana. “Now Liviana, you know the rules. You have to make it through the hour, and then we’ll see about turning it back on.” At least the Owner wasn’t one who expected immediate results…

(Black Star Company Offices, Thelorius, Dimiya)

The receptionist looked up from the computer screen she was working in front of (if checking her social media counted as work) when the door chimed, letting in a visitor to the company’s official office near the starport. Well, this was little more than a place for business contacts to be made, since most of the actual Company business happened off planet, but that wasn’t the receptionist’s concern. She was just an hourly employee hired to answer calls and set up appointments.

The man who entered the office was dressed in black, including a black cloak and a wide-brimmed hat. The way he carried himself spoke of confidence and danger, if the receptionist was any judge, after meeting the boss. This guy wasn’t the boss, of course, but he gave off a similar feeling. Creeped her out a little.

“Welcome to the Black Star Company. How may we be of assistance to you today?”

The man nodded, and said, “Yes, would you be able to tell me if the owner is in?”

“I’m sorry, the owner is out of the system at this time, conducting business for the company abroad. Would you like for me to send him a message when he gets in range of a planetary FTL comm?”

“Yes, please let him know that I came on this date, and inform him that, as agreed, I’m providing advance notice about work involving him. He’ll know what it means.”

“I see. And may I have a name to give him?”

“Yes, tell him that it was Requiesce-in-Pace calling. He knows of me, at least, even if we’ve never met face to face.”

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Rules-Free VRMMO Life (Dark Fantasy LitRPG):

Volume 1 - Tutorial https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071VPRNDB

Omnibus 1 - Volumes 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0774T354X

Into the Black (Sci-Fi LitRPG):

Book I - Game Start https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071LT5WGL

Omnibus I - Books 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X2KR7Y

City of Champions Online (Superhero LitRPG):

Issue I - Origin Stories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075SHXQS1

The Kalipshae Affair (A First Contact Short Story): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0739V6R6T

Chapter 77 - Bagthera Falls

(Gateway, Alpha Centauri System)

There were only four currently known methods of FTL travel in the galaxy. Which isn’t to say that there weren’t other methods, but their use had fallen by the wayside either because they were impractical, or they simply fell out of favor for the current methods. One of those current methods were the Gateways. And as one of the ways someone could get an enemy fleet into position without prior detection, so near the heart of the Empire, the gateway here at Alpha Centauri was well guarded by enough ships to crush any fleet advancing through the gateway before they had a chance to fight back.

Of course, the obvious answer was to send one force to take out the blocking force, allowing for reinforcements to come through once the Gate was clear, but that was easier said than done, when the fifty ships of Second Fleet were taken into consideration. Two squadrons of seven superdreadnoughts, a dozen cruisers, and twenty-four smaller craft were not a force to be taken lightly!

When the Gateway opened unexpectedly, an alert was sounded through the fleet. When the expected transfer of ships through the gate never happened, confusion reigned instead. When a barrage of dozens, perhaps hundreds of missiles came streaming through, and then began seeking targets, confusion turned to shock and terror, as ships began dying under the assault.

Thus began the first use of the Gateway system for indirect fire in modern military history.

(Admiral’s Quarters, Fleet Base Bagthera, Alpha Centauri System)

Alarms filled the air. Admiral Nimitz groaned as he opened his eyes and looked at the clock by his bead. 01:00, station time. He was probably going to have to kill whoever it was that was causing problems at this time, especially since he had only finished his current stewardess’s weekly ‘performance review’ an hour ago. “Coffee, now.” He smacked the redhead on the ass to get her moving while he reached for his communicator.

“Report!”

“Admiral! This is Lieutenant Chalmers in CIC. We have an unscheduled gateway activation. Missiles are pouring through the gate and seeking targets on this side! There are also reports of kinetic strikes being delivered against the gateway defenders!”

Damn it! The rebels must have grown bold indeed try and launch an attack on Alpha Centauri. It had to be the rebels, right? He didn’t even want to consider that this could be the opening move of a war with one of the other interstellar powers out there. Nimitz shook his head, and said, “Prepare a tactical report. I’ll be there in ten.”

He didn’t bother with a shower. There was no time for it. He simply threw on a fresh uniform, and turned to leave his suite, trusting that coffee would be there before he had to leave for the CIC. His aide was waiting in his day room, with the cup of coffee in one hand, and a datapad in the other. The stewardess had probably gone to get dressed, herself.

His aide handed the coffee to him as he approached, causing him to nod gratefully at the blonde. “What’s the situation?”

His aide shook her head. “Details are still unclear, Admiral. No ships have transited the gate yet.”

“All right, let’s get to CIC. If this is a larger attack on the system, then we need to warn Fleet Command back at Sol.” He turned, and headed for the door. Time to figure out what was happening, and then kick someone’s ass for attacking his base.

“I’m sorry Admiral, but I can’t let you do that.”

The tone of voice, more than the content of what was said caused Admiral Nimitz to pause, but before he could turn around, he gasped as a sharp pain appeared in his side. Unable to make a sound, he looked down and saw the blood dagger stuck in his side. It was only then, distracted as he was by the alert, that he noticed the crumpled heap in the corner that used to be his stewardess. So the assassin had killed her too?

Well he wouldn’t go down without a fight!

(Combat Information Center, Fleet Base Bagthera, Alpha Centauri System)

It was fifteen minutes after the Admiral had communicated he would be heading to the CIC when he finally arrived. The officer of the watch saluted, and said, “Admiral, we’re beginning to get initial damage reports from the fleet. Thunderous and Kurenai are both disabled. We’ve lost Madara, and the Normandy has been hit hard. She’s still able to fight, but Captain Thomas is dead. A Commander Shepherd is the senior officer and has taken command. We’ve lost over half the smaller ships so far!”

“How are they targeting the missiles? It should be impossible to send targeting data back through the Gateway since the transmissions are one-way.”

The captain who had been in charge until he entered the room shook his head. “Unknown, sir. Tactical believes that there may be a stealthed vessel providing target data for the missiles once they are through the Gate. There may be more than one, if the timing of the kinetic strikes is any indication.”

“Kinetics. Are you saying that this is our mysterious squadron of ghost ships that struck Sol and has been attacking shipping? Kindof a large jump to be attacking Bagthera base so openly. If it is them, what has changed?”

“I can’t say, Admiral. But if they were mercenaries or even just people with a cause, they may have been recruited by the rebels to destabilize operations.”

The Admiral nodded. “Very well. All ships are to go active on all scanners, full power to the sensors. If we can eliminate their spotter then this becomes academic.”

Just as the ships began hammering with their sensors, a blip appeared on the screens. “Admiral, I think we got them! They must have had to compromise their stealth ability to send out target data to all those missiles!”

“Excellent! The Normandy and the heavy cruisers Prinz Eugen and Blücher are to remain on station. They can handle anyone that comes through the gate. The superdreadnought Poltava is to cover the disabled ships and begin Search and Rescue operations. Everyone else is to converge on those coordinates. Eliminate the spotter and any of these other ‘phantom ships’ that might be in the area. They have a great deal to answer for, no?”

“Aye aye, Admiral!”

The communications officers went about their tasks, the Admiral watched as the ships began moving to intercept the spotter. Of course, the ships were horribly overkill for a single ship, even if it were a superdreadnought, but the fact that its invisible friends might be out there to ambush smaller ships meant that using all the available ships to deal with the threat once and for all was appropriate. Idly, he keyed a few commands into his console.

“Admiral! The long-range communications array has gone offline!”

“The CIC just went on lockdown!”

“Station internal defenses just went active! They’re targeting Imperial forces!”

“We have ships transitioning through the gateway!”

“Environmental controls just went offline!”

The admiral merely nodded. “Yes, I am aware.” He was the only one who had his mask on and shipsuit sealed when the gas grenades he casually dropped went off, filling the air with toxic fumes. The resulting sounds of panicked screaming, coughing, and dying were short, and to the point. The Admiral only had to shoot one person who wasn’t dying fast enough from the Sarin gas that the grenades had released. For a room this size, he could have probably gotten away with a single grenade, but he decided to use two, if only because people might have genemods to make them more resistant.

When everyone else in the compartment was dead, the Admiral looked back at the tactical plot. The defense fleet was out of position, chasing the spotter craft. The first few ‘ships’ though the gate had actually been remote missile launchers. Typically used in planetary defense, the rebel commander had shot their magazines dry, sending the hundreds of missiles his ships had tried (and sometimes failed) to defend against. More importantly, they ate the first few missile launches from the remaining defenders, who launched the instant anything appeared through the gate, leaving the INS Triumphant free to lead the charge through the Gateway, followed by the rest of her fleet. Once on this side, their point defense and shields were able to overwhelm the missiles launched against them.

“This is Admiral Nimitz to all ships. Stand down. I repeat, stand down. We surrender.”

Would the ships listen? The admiral didn’t really care. He did, however, care about living through this, which is why he took the time to make sure that the environmental controls sucked all the gas out of the air and replaced it with nice, breathable air before pulling off his mask.

And then his face began to change, shifting in what looked like a painful process until he was now a completely different person. He raised a very much non-Imperial communicator to his mouth, and said, “This is Commodore Mollen to the Black Star Fleet. Mission accomplished. Blow the repeater platform, and remain in stealth until Empress Merida solidifies control. Any ships ignoring the surrender command may be fired upon at will.”

(INS Triumphant, Officer’s Mess, Alpha Centauri System) – Four Hours Later

There was an air of general good cheer in the officer’s mess that morning. It was still a bit early for the usual mess, but the Captain had had a word with the cooks, and got them to start a bit early for the crews that were on duty during the assault. She might be Empress when this was all said and done, but for now, she was still their Captain, and the officers and crew of the Triumphant would follow her into hell.

The fleet base’s defenses had been smashed, thanks to the idea floated by the mercenary company the Captain had hired to help fight the war. That got a couple noses out of joint, but the old hands pointed out that they needed some unconventional help if they were going to win this civil war. The Empress’s fleet was the equivalent of regular Army. These mercenaries were the naval equivalent of spec ops. Sure, they were badass, but they were situational badasses. Without speed and (most importantly) stealth on their side, they could not stand against the ships the Empress possessed. In other words, they cheated, instead of fighting fair. That soothed the egos of the younger crowd, some of whom were upset that their chance for glory had been curtailed.

Oh, not all of the ships had surrendered, but most had seen the writing on the wall once the fleet began pouring through the Gateway. And that wouldn’t have been possible if not for those mercs. Including the one that was now sharing breakfast with the Empress and her Nomad aide.

Lucio leaned forward. “So, Commodore, how did…” He stopped as the other man raised a hand to cut him off.

“In private, I’m just Mirikon. Or Master, for those who have my collar. So drop the titles while it is just us having a well-earned breakfast.”

Lucio laughed, and nodded. “Very well then. So, Mirikon. Just how in the hell did you manage to infiltrate the Fleet Base and convince the Admiral to issue that surrender demand?”

“Well, infiltration was easy enough. I just landed on Primo, checked in with an old friend, and took the regular supply shuttle up to the station. I was using a different look when I last came through here, so no one connected me to the last time I was here, especially as the Raven wasn’t on their screens.”

“Using the information my friend gave me, I got in touch with the Admiral’s aide to arrange the transfer of certain items to their care for the Admiral’s use. I used some proprietary tech to mask myself as the aide, and returned to the military side, setting up in plenty of time. When the Admiral got the alert, I was there, and handled the Admiral and some collateral damage. After that, everything was child’s play, really.”

Empress Meridan frowned. “But wasn’t the Admiral’s aide female? And quite a bit more… curvy than you are?”

The mercenary winked at the empress. “Proprietary tech, as I said.”

Previous Chapter                                        Table of Contents                                     Next Chapter

Be sure to read my published works!

Frozen Soul series (Sci-Fi Supervillain story):

Frozen Soul https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071R125QT

Tales of the Void Traveler https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06ZZ52G37

Rules-Free VRMMO Life (Dark Fantasy LitRPG):

Volume 1 - Tutorial https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071VPRNDB

Omnibus 1 - Volumes 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0774T354X

Into the Black (Sci-Fi LitRPG):

Book I - Game Start https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071LT5WGL

Omnibus I - Books 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X2KR7Y

City of Champions Online (Superhero LitRPG):

Issue I - Origin Stories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075SHXQS1

The Kalipshae Affair (A First Contact Short Story): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0739V6R6T

Chapter 122 - The Grand Temple of Lolth

The next morning was an… interesting bit of theater, when all the guildies did walks of not-shame and met eachother in the hall as they competed silently for the order on the baths. A walk of actual shame would imply that we found something shameful in our conduct, and our guild had gotten a pretty bohemian vibe to it since the very start. Oh sure, the priestesses were looking ashamed, but then they were still new to the fact that they weren’t in control any more. The rest of the crew didn’t care about their feelings, anyways. They’d be dead soon, so they didn’t matter.

Lexichan and the others planned to find the local adventurer’s guild, and maybe explore the city a bit. I was cool with that, but I still reminded Cookie and Ruva that Drow would be Drow, so they shouldn’t let themselves get separated from Lexichan, especially when they were outside of the ‘tourist’ district.

The rest of us, however, began making a straight-line path to the largest, most impressive single building in the city. And honestly, that was saying something. To picture the scale of the Grand Temple of Lolth in the Drow capitol of Amyaththalas, first picture the Hagia Sophia, Sistine Chapel, and Notre Dame cathedral all rolled into one. Now make it all carved from black stone, and with the entryway shaped to resemble a spider’s head, with magic lighting up and decorating the building so that only someone with darkvision could appreciate it.

The closer we got to the temple, the more pointed looks we got. However, no one stopped us. While it was uncommon for anyone but a worshipper of Lolth or one of her subordinate deities to approach the temple, it wasn’t unheard of, especially when a Chosen was involved. It wasn’t until we got to the antechamber where we were first stopped and questioned by the guards.

“Hold! What business do you have in the Temple, Surfacer? This place is not for the likes of you.”

I looked at the guard who spoke, a male, wearing some very fine armor with a pair of wicked blades at his side. Throwing back my hood to reveal my face, I spoke in a loud voice so that all those around me, including the ones who were trying to not be caught eavesdropping, could hear. “I am Zayn Darkmore, Chosen of Sharess, Knight of the Wyrmwood, Ruler of Lithaes Castle and her surroundings, and Leader of the Aria of the Twilight. I have traveled far and passed through many dangers to come to this point. I have undergone the Trials of the Gods, passed through the Crucible of the Drow, and conquered the Sacred Dungeons that have existed since the time of the Sundering.”

I took a breath, confident that I had everyone’s attention so far, and said, “It was in response to a quest given to me by the Queen of Spiders herself that I walked this path, coming through darkness and flame and the halls of the dead to stand here now. I seek a private consultation with the High Priestess of Lolth, for I have been directed to her by the Spider Queen. As tribute to the Temple and to Lolth, I have brought priestesses of Kiaransalee that I would offer as sacrifice.”

Telling people you are on a quest handed directly from their goddess in the middle of their goddesses most holy site tends to prompt a certain response out of people in this world. It isn’t like in the real world if someone walked into a church and suddenly got the ‘divine inspiration’ to get their band back together to save the orphanage they grew up in, and people just look at you like you’re crazy. No, saying such things in such a place in a world where gods were very real brought attention. Those who lied about having a divine quest from a goddess in their most holy sites tended to get cursed horribly.

Oh, it wasn’t like lying about that kind of thing wasn’t a ‘career limiting move’ in normal circumstances. It most certainly was, if the diety in question took notice. But the world is a large place, and dieties can’t be everywhere at once. That said, they tend to pay more attention to their temples, and a false claim of a divine quest in the middle of their main temple in the world was basically as insolent as slapping them in the face with your cock. That way went all kinds of divine retribution.

So when I didn’t burst into flames, get struck down by horrible curses, or have any one of a few hundred horrible things happen to me, that caused a distinct change in the way the drow around us were regarding our party, and me in particular. Where before there was a cold arrogance and perhaps some amusement at the upstart surfacer, now there was cruel cunning and suspicion, as they tried to figure out how to make this work to their own ends and their own advancement. Or at least to cut off a rival’s advancement. What can I say, drow will be drow.

I noticed a couple initiates who had been listening within the temple proper whispering amongst themselves. Finally, one left, probably to go inform their superiors about what was going on. Probably have to work its way up the chain. Well, I didn’t expect to jump straight into a meeting with the most important religious leader in the city any way.

The other initiate stepped forward, and said, “Let them pass within. We shall take them to a place where they might rest while the Priestesses consult their divinations about what to do with them. The rest of you, continue on with what you were doing, and may you find Lolth’s favor in your work.” Taking the dismissal for what it was, the crowd dispersed as we followed the initiate into the Temple.

Uviok Zabi Drow Female Level 45 Webmistress (Priestess) / Rogue Titles: Devout, Kinslayer, Spiderkissed

I smiled, but didn’t say anything, not when my hood was still down. I’d judged correctly, it seemed when none of my eavesdroppers were within the 10’ radius of my Passion’s Heat perk. It had taken a while, but I was starting to get the hang of managing the troublesome perk, it seemed. The inside of the temple was just as grand as the outside, decorated in black stone with silver and gold streaking through tastefully to provide some color, where that color wasn’t supplied by magical effects. Silver spiderwebs could be seen in many places, and I noticed that there were several giant spiders living in the eaves, no doubt both guardians and the ones who received some of the sacrifices made here.

The initiate was dressed conservatively, for a drowess, in a slinky black gown that hugged her form quite nicely and hinted at all sorts of joys underneath. It was closer to something Morticia Adams would wear, rather than what a normal person would consider religious wear, but then, she was only an initiate, and they probably dressed more conservatively to be reminded of their place. After all, the thinking was that by deliberately wearing little armor or clothing, you projected confidence and strength. Both that you were beyond assault, and that you could handle any who tried. The lower ranked you were, the more vulnerable you were, and the more armor you needed. Of course, the higher-ups didn’t wear just regular clothes, but heavily enchanted magic items that were likely far better than a suit of full plate for keeping their insides from seeing their outside.

She took us away from the main worship areas, and into a more private area. This was clearly used for meetings that had to take place on temple grounds, but weren’t advisable to be shown to the general public. From what I could tell, there were some impressive privacy wards on the room, as the sounds of worship outside died off completely when the door closed. Looking around I spotted several comfortable chairs, a couch, and an idol of Lolth in her drow form gazing imperiously over the room.

The initiate looked over at us, still haughty and yet polite, in that way that only elves, regardless of their affiliations can do. “Please understand that the High Priestess rarely accepts visitors from outside the clergy unless she summons them herself, and even more rarely does she consent to see a surfacer, no matter their cause. It may be a while as she consults her divinations about whether to meet with you or if it would be best to reschedule.”

Looking over at her, I gave her my best smile, and said, “Oh, I’m sure I can find something to entertain me while I wait.” Yes, this was deliberately baiting the perk to see if it would activate, but having suitable places to experiment on something like this was NOT exactly common. There were some vagueries in the perk that I hadn’t gotten around to testing. Like what would happen if, on my first meeting with someone, they saw and heard me from outside of the radius, and then moved into the radius when I spoke?

Passion’s Heat Upon first meeting you, those who would be attracted to someone of your race and gender are filled with lust for you, and those whose level is lower than yours, or whose CHA is over 500 lower than yours may try to act upon their passions without thinking when they see your face and hear your voice, regardless of the situation, unless they have an iron will. Creatures above your level have more control, and will not throw themselves at you unless their CHA is 1000 or more lower than yours. Keeping your face hooded or otherwise hidden by mundane disguise or magical illusion prevents this effect from happening. This effect only occurs when you first come within 10’ of an individual who has reached adulthood.

Turns out, the perk didn’t count that as part of the first meeting. Which, I considered, was a good thing. It gave me a little more control over who was trying to jump my bones, after all. But with that experiment done, I looked at the initiate and smiled. “Perhaps you can help keep me occupied while we wait on your mistress? You could tell me what being an initiate is like, and I can share some of Sharess’s… wisdom with you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

She might not have succumbed to the Passion’s Heat perk, but even without using things like Charming Gaze or any of my Charm spells, attempting to seduce the girl, given the difference in our CHA scores, and my Godly 4 Seduction skill (amplified by both my pheromones and the Silver-Tongued title, among my other effects) was like shooting fish in a barrel using a howitzer. She bit her lip for only a moment, uncertain, before throwing caution to the wind (and her dress to the floor).

“I-I’m only doing this because a liason with a chosen, and a possible child of that coupling, would be a major boon for me and my house. It isn’t like I like you or anything!”

I nearly swooned at the sight of a naked tsundere drowess. Ok, not really, but damn, that was super-effective. I’m pretty sure I heard Sharess giggling in the background as I stepped towards the drowess. “Oh, so you want a child to increase your standing, hmm? Well, why don’t you start by bending over that chair, there, so I can properly prepare you.”

“That’s one.” “Yes, but we haven’t even met the high priestess yet.” “And the bet was for until we got back to the inn.” “Yes, that’s why the first bet was three.” “I still don’t know how you thought he’d get a dozen, when an orgy or threesome only counts as one.” “You think he can’t?” “When would he get the tme? We still have stuff to do, right?”

I ignored the chatter from the peanut gallery, as they discussed some kind of bet that I’m sure had nothing to do with me in the slightest. But if I was the entertainment for the morning, I might as well make myself entertaining. With that thought, I turned to my work with renewed gusto, to the initiate’s delight.

Previous Chapter                                        Table of Contents                                           Next Chapter

Be sure to read my published works!

Frozen Soul series (Sci-Fi Supervillain story):

Frozen Soul https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071R125QT

Tales of the Void Traveler https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06ZZ52G37

Rules-Free VRMMO Life (Dark Fantasy LitRPG):

Volume 1 - Tutorial https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071VPRNDB

Omnibus 1 - Volumes 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0774T354X

Into the Black (Sci-Fi LitRPG):

Book I - Game Start https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071LT5WGL

Omnibus I - Books 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X2KR7Y

City of Champions Online (Superhero LitRPG):

Issue I - Origin Stories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075SHXQS1

The Kalipshae Affair (A First Contact Short Story): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0739V6R6T

Chapter 76 - Slave Ranch

(Apple Blossom Ranch, Carceri VII, Imperial Prison and Slave World, Carceri System)

The Imperial system of Justice was a simple one. Those convicted of crimes would face one of four fates. For minor crimes, there would be prison time, or perhaps some fine or other penalty imposed. For larger crimes, however, there was little in the way of mercy shown. The three most common fates were Death, Enslavement, or Exile. Death was mainly for traitors or those who committed crimes against the state. Enslavement was useful for increasing the work force, and keeping those with potentially useful talents around, without the problems that led to them being enslaved in the first place. But some prisoners were either too important to kill, or too dangerous to have enslaved. Or they were simply insane, and no one wished to keep an insane slave around. That always ended badly.

Those who did not fit the criteria for Death or Enslavement were exiled to penal colonies. As one might expect, these places were hellacious places to live, and no one in their right minds would ever move there of their own free will.

Penal colonies could be anything from an isolated island or island chain to a continent they could isolate from the others to an entire planet. Carceri VII was a planet divided into two parts. The three smaller continents were all given over to a penal colony, with no means to get between the continents other than hand-made boats or canoes, unless one used the main continent’s shuttles. The main continent, you see, was primarily agricultural, but boasted what many termed ‘Slave Ranches’. Essentially, these were centers for the breeding, raising, and training of slaves. Some of the best gladiator and pleasure slaves came from ranches, after all. They were raised knowing nothing but their intended role.

Of course, that isn’t to say that new blood was never added to the Ranches. After all, if you didn’t mix the bloodlines up a bit, then you started breeding faulty merchandise, and no one liked that. So sometimes good specimens would be sent to the Ranch, either as a Bull or a Sow.

Now, most Slave Ranches tended to have a ‘type’. Sure, you’d find some that tried to have a little bit of everything, but in Axel Delacroix’s opinion that just left you spread too thin. You needed to specialize on one type, with maybe a couple secondaries, to streamline your breeding, training, and other facilities. What a Felisan pleasure slave and a Gauz mechanic slave and a knelfi office slave needed for their raising and training were all different, and if you built a brand on a certain kind of slave, then people knew where to come. And, of course, there were plenty of Ranch owners like Delacroix who kept in touch with eachother so they could score a bit of an ‘introduction fee’ if they needed to direct someone to one of their friends.

Axel specialized in breeding and raising gladiators, but he didn’t specialize as to what race he bred. Humans were some of his most popular products. Sure, it didn’t make sense that humans would be the most popular when humans were common throughout the Empire, but Ranch-raised human gladiators were rare. Gauz and Ihm (at least the males) were common as dirt in the gladiator ranches, because of their sturdy builds. Even most of the Ranch-raised human gladiators were mostly musclebound brutes (even the women) who were about as bright as a black hole and twice as dense.

Axel’s products were different. He sacrificed some on the raw brute strength, because he made sure to breed for intelligence and cunning as well as strength and endurance. You had to compromise a bit to get a good mix, but that was easy for Axel because of his secondary types. He raised thieves and assassins, which always were in high demand. To help with the cunning and intelligence part, he not only found breeders that exhibited those qualities, but he also made sure to have teachers on staff, so all his slaves had at least basic educations (which could be tailored to fit their specific roles later on).

One of his big sources for these breeders and teachers were criminals who would otherwise be destined to one of the penal colonies on the planet. Which is why he now had a Rear Admiral in the Number 4 stall, and was reviewing the file of the newest ‘Bull’ who had been sent to him from his contact on the processing station in orbit. Strong one, looked like he’d been enslaved during some riots or some such on Choson Ring when the new cult guys started making their presence known. Seems he was one of the leaders or something. Well, might as well put him in with the Admiral and see how he did.

<Moon-Hee POV>

Rear Admiral Han Moon-Hee was less than thrilled with the situation she found herself in. Well, that might have been a slight understatement. The little woman from Korea was RIGHTEOUSLY PISSED. She HAD been a Rear Admiral in the Imperial Navy until she’d had the audacity to turn down Admiral Maddox when he offered to induct her into this weird cult the Emperor was starting. As a Buddhist, that would have been against her beliefs.

Unfortunately, that meant she was seen as ‘politically unreliable’, and it only took a day for transfer orders to come down, sending her to the front. Once she was out of sight, however, the bastards ‘disappeared’ her, and slapped a collar on her for good measure. The bastards didn’t even lie about it to her, simply saying that she was being sent someplace to ‘consider her options’ and that, in a few months, they would revisit her choice not to join the ‘movement’.

And that was how she ended up on this infernal ranch, stripped naked and pumped full of fertility drugs and other things to make her more sensitive. Today was going to be her first breeding session. She didn’t know whether her rapist would be the Rancher, one of his hands, or a ‘Bull’, one of the male breeders brought in just to make the new generation of slaves. They’d anticipated how very unwilling she was, and had her strapped face-down, bent over a table, with her legs secured apart by a bar. In other words, she was positioned so that the asshole could just take her, no problem.

The door opened in front of her, and she saw the Rancher, Delacroix, enter, followed by a naked man wearing a collar like hers, with an… acceptable physique. OK, so he was built like a god sculpted him from marble, and most definitely more ‘gifted’ than her late fiancé had been. He was a Marine, and had recently been promoted to the Royal guards when the attack on the Imperial Palace happened. She was just glad he wasn’t alive to see what was going to happen to her now.

The Rancher looked at her, and said, “Well, Sow #4576, it is time for your first breeding. I’ve got a new Bull I’m testing out with you, so be a good girl and accommodate him.” He looked at the naked man, and said, “You have one hour, and I expect no less than two attempts. Do well, and you’ll have your pick of women, and an endless supply of them. Do badly, and I’ll make your life hell. I’ll be watching the cameras.” And then he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him.

The Bull walked around to Moon-Hee’s side of the table, running his hand along her to check her body. Once he was behind her, she felt his fingers rubbing between her legs, one of them sliding gently back and forth across her clit. Despite herself, she had to stifle a moan as she began to get wet. She hadn’t had any companionship that wasn’t battery-operated since David had died.

When the Bull judged her to be sufficiently prepared, he moved behind her, and she could feel him positioning himself, the tip rubbing against her folds, before he thrust hard into her, causing her to unleash a moan even though she hated what this man was doing to her. She tried to think of David, of their last time together before the attack, but the Bull’s thrusts drove that out of her mind. His hands reached under her to cup her petite B cups, and she could feel his breath hot in her ear.

“Rear Admiral Han Moon-Hee.” The Bull whispered her name in her ear, shocking her from making some biting comment. She opened her mouth to say something, but a gasp was all that came out as he pinched one of her nipples. “The name’s Mirikon. I’m sorry we had to meet like this, but this is a rescue. Please play along while my team arranges extraction for you and the other targets.”

Grunting softly, she whispered angrily, “Taking advantage of this rescue attempt, aren’t you?”

“Be lying if I said there weren’t benefits, and wearing the fake collar is interesting, but we’re being monitored, so until the team is in position, I need to stay in character. And unfortunately, that means following the Rancher’s orders. He’s currently in his office watching this feed. The audio is crap, so all he can tell is that I’m whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and you’re pissed as hell while I do it.”

“H-how do you know all that?” She shuddered as a small orgasm ran through her, but the man kept thrusting even as she came.

“Because I’m in contact with my team. And sorry for this, but I have to keep in character.” He stopped leaning over her now, and grabbed her hips, before thrusting harder, and faster. Moon-Hee shook her head, denying what was happening, until she felt him thrust hard into her once more, and felt a warmth spreading inside her as she shuddered with another orgasm.

The man was just now pulling his softening cock out of her poor, abused nethers when an explosion rocked the building, cutting the power, and sending them into darkness as the lights went out in the windowless room. Without saying a word, she could feel the man moving behind her, and felt… a blade? Maybe a claw? Something sliced the bonds on her ankles, allowing her to close her legs, and then the man moved around to the front of the table and freed her wrists! Now she was just naked, pumped full of fertility drugs and aphrodisiacs, and most certainly seeded by this man who had come to rescue her while raping her. It was all very confusing, but if it meant getting out of here and getting revenge on the bastards who ruined her life, then she was willing to forgive, if not forget.

The door burst open as two women in special operations armor stood there, weapons at the ready, lights on their suits filling the room with a harsh white light. She turned, and saw that the man had already removed the collar he said was a fake. One of the women nodded, to him, and handed over a pair of bracers. “Here you are, Master. Sorry we don’t have time for you to get into the suit armor.”

From the bracers the man pulled a set of clothes and armor suitable for what a civilian contractor might wear, as opposed to the military-grade suits the two women wore. He produced similar clothes for her. “Get dressed, Admiral. We’re going to have to fight our way out of here. The situation’s getting a little hairy, so we want to be gone before Sona and Jaynie start needing to use the heavy weapons.” When she was dressed, he handed her a simple heavy pistol, like an Officer would have. It felt right in my hand.

The man looked her over, and nodded. “Now, we’ll secure the other targets on our way out. Unfortunately, you weren’t the only political prisoner held here. But we’ll get you out of here, and to our ship. Then, I believe Empress Merida would be quite happy if you’d come join her in kicking the hell out of her brother’s fleets.”

Han Moon-Hee, disgraced Rear Admiral, lover of a Royal Guard slain in an assassination of the Emperor, smiled wickedly at that, like an evil spirit promised their pound of flesh. “Oh, it would be my pleasure.”

Previous Chapter                                    Table of Contents                                             Next Chapter

Be sure to read my published works!

Frozen Soul series (Sci-Fi Supervillain story):

Frozen Soul https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071R125QT

Tales of the Void Traveler https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06ZZ52G37

Rules-Free VRMMO Life (Dark Fantasy LitRPG):

Volume 1 - Tutorial https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071VPRNDB

Omnibus 1 - Volumes 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0774T354X

Into the Black (Sci-Fi LitRPG):

Book I - Game Start https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071LT5WGL

Omnibus I - Books 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X2KR7Y

City of Champions Online (Superhero LitRPG):

Issue I - Origin Stories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075SHXQS1

The Kalipshae Affair (A First Contact Short Story): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0739V6R6T

Chapter 121 - The Deep Crystal Inn

The subterranean city of Amyaththalas was without the slightest doubt the brightest, most colorful, and most beautiful city I had ever laid eyes on. Of course, it only looked like that if you had darkvision, as all the colors and effects were done with special lights that showed up only to those seeing without actual light. Which isn’t to say that there weren’t any real lights in the city. Any place where people were expected to read or write was lit up normally. Darkvision, after all, is a greyscale, which means writing doesn’t show up in darkvision unless you use special inks or magic paint. Hence the fact that we could read the colorful signs without carrying torches or magical lights.

While there were some places that had lights, such as offices and anyplace selling books, for the most part if you saw light, that meant you were in an area of the city that catered to nondrow. Yes, nondrow did come to the city, though it was rare. Something about rampant superiority complexes when it came to other races tended to put off most visitors. At any rate, the inn the guards directed us to was in the ‘visitor’s quarter’. Lights were more common here, though still rare, since too much light would cause a glare that would keep people from seeing the Naluth, the great stone spire that rose in the center of the massive cavern that housed the city, a pillar connecting the great floor and ceiling.

There was a red glow coming off the spire, visible only with darkvision. When I asked, I was told that, without the sun, the Drow chose this means of marking the passage of time throughout the day. Each morning the Archmage would cast a spell, and that spell would cause light to slowly rise up and down the spire, completing a full cycle in a day’s time, after which the archmagi would cast the spell again. It was like a version of London’s Big Ben, but using only magic and the natural stone.

The inn we came to was called the Deep Crystal Inn, and one could easily see the reason for the name. Rather than torches or candles or other light sources that would require fuel and have issues with smoke indoors, the Deep Crystal used a series of enchanted crystals that glowed with an inner light, providing a soft glow not unlike candlelight throughout the building. But in the relentless darkness of the Underdark, it felt as though we were stepping out into the noonday sun. Despite the fact that we could all (with some magical assistance) see fine in the darkness, the sight of actual lights brought a bit of homesickness to those of us who spent most of our time on the surface.

The inn itself was a standard example of the fantasy tavern and inn with a common room sporting a bar and many kinds of beverages to take your mind off your troubles and a kitchen to fill your belly. Conversation, such as it was, stopped for a moment as we entered the room. Not surprising, since we were a large party, very well armed, and I had several drow females with slave collars with me. That kind of thing was unusual, to say the least.

As the various conversations started back up, I found the deep gnome that was responsible for running this inn. No drow would lower themselves to serving outsiders. Selling goods to them? Sure, though they would try and gouge you as much as possible. Buying from them? If they had to, and it wasn’t more convenient to simply take it. But serving them at a bar? No. Not down here, at any rate. Drow on the surface tended to have fewer options, but even then there’d be few places that would hire a drow to tend bar, since too many people would be worrying about poison in their drinks. Well, faster-acting poison than the rotgut some idiots insisted on drinking no matter how many times they had to get a cleric to heal their blindness.

Slepni Cobblenut Deep Gnome Female Level 45 Lorespinner (Bard) / Fighter Titles: Silver-tongued

The gnome trotted over and looked at us as we approached the bar. Looking over, I saw that she had a raised platform going on back there, allowing her at least see over the bar. Probably involved a lot of climbing and such, but it worked. “Hmm. An incubus. Don’t get those too often. What’ll ya have?” I looked at the gnome again. She was cute, in that ‘everything is at 1:2 scale’ kind of way. Leaning forward, I pulled my cloak back enough so that she could hear my face, and said, softly so my voice wouldn’t carry far over the conversation, “I need four rooms for myself and my party for a week.”

The gnome’s eyes glazed over, and I’m fairly certain her knees went weak. She grabbed some keys from under the counter, and looked back to the back and called out in the gnomish language, telling someone that she was showing customers up to their rooms. She barely made it out of the common room and onto the stairs before she said, “Top floor, first four rooms on the right. Now I want you to fuck my brains out, mister incubus!”

The pets just giggled at the poor gnome’s plight, but didn’t say anything about it. Soon, we were on the top floor of the three-floor building, and Hrozne and the girls were getting settled in the other rooms. I let them know that the priestesses were theirs to enjoy for the night, and took the gnome into the room I’d picked out for myself.

The physics and physiology of a three-foot gnome taking in a member like mine was naturally something of an eye-opening experience for her, and I’m fairly certain I might have dislocated her jaw at one point. In fact, without her having access to the pittance of healing magics bards had, she likely would have been considerably injured by the time I was done with her. By the time I left her staggering back to the bar, with her holes freshly widened and one of them leaking considerably, I just hoped she didn’t get in too much trouble from her boss for skipping work for so long. If she got in trouble, the rest of the staff might try and reject me while they were on shift, and that would just be annoying.

I was just settling back for a nap and maybe some work on my enchanting skills when a message came in for me, it was Lexichan, asking to chat.

Darkmore: Well, this is rare. Why would the lovely Lexichan need to be calling me out of the blue? Did Brecilac and Raunaeril get into it again?

Lexichan: Hi, Lexichan. How are you doing, Lexichan? I’m so happy you do all the insane day to day tasks needed to run a guild, Lexichan.

Darkmore: All right, all right. I’m sorry. So, what’s up? You didn’t call to berate me for questing, did you?

Lexichan: No, not just to berate you for skipping out on duties to the guild. I’ve got other reasons, as well.

Darkmore: Fine, fine. I take your point. Once the business in Amyaththalas is finished, I’ll head back to Lithaes for a while. What’s the problem?

Lexichan: You know those lightside types? There’s been some rumbling, building on the stuff Zephara and the Scions did before you curb stomped them. I think the crusaders are looking to try and stir up trouble between Wyrmwood and Ograin. Someone’s letting slip rumors that you are the one who unleashed Mirelth on the world, and using it to stir up the humans against the elves.

Darkmore: Huh. I was wondering when someone was going to try and play that card.

Lexichan: You’re not worried about war breaking out between the two kingdoms?

Darkmore: Not especially. Even if they march on Lithaes and ignore the rest of the elven land (and there’s no way the elves would just allow an army through their lands), they’d have to face all of Aria, and the defenses Lithaes has had worked into it by now. Plus, there’s at least six of us who can summon dragons once a week.

Lexichan: So it is a wait and see kind of deal, where we prepare defenses, and then nuke the poor bastards? What if it isn’t enough?

Darkmore: Then we also have a whole lot of people capable of the most shadowy work. I imagine armies would lose cohesion quickly if there were suddenly a host of new vacancies at the top that needed to be filled. Especially if we can plant evidence on the other factions so they think it is some internal bloodletting.

Lexichan: Divide and conquer. Got it. Anyone in particular you want to run intel on that? Can’t just be guessing at leaders when the fighting starts.

Darkmore: Johnist is an ‘everyman’ sort, and blends in with a lot of crowds. He can do the person to person intel gathering. Have Darkbunnys use her shadow powers to slip around and find any other intel she can that way. If we can map out who the powers that be are beforehand, we might be able to decapitate an army before the fighting even starts.

Lexichan: Fine. I’ll dispatch them when I’m done with this call. So, how is Amyaththalas? I haven’t seen any drow lands except for our brief jaunt to Have Dorei, and the week or so after the dungeon was set up.

Darkmore: Hmm. As the premier Drow in our guild, that just won’t do. You wanna come join us here? The Grand Temple, the leader of the city, and the magic academy are all on the tour this week, along with a visit to the local slave market. Might be able to find some intereting specimens.

Lexichan: Well, Ruva, Cookie, and I have been talking…

Darkmore: Should I be excited or concerned?

Lexichan: Hush you! Anyways, we need some material components and other such things for some of the skills we have, and they are either Underdark exclusives, or just rare on the surface.

Darkmore: Hmm. I could arrange for you three to stay with me and the girls. I’ve paid for a week, so it isn’t like there’s a problem with the rooms, especially once we drop off a few priestesses at the temple for sacrifices.

Lexichan: Excellent! We’ll also have the pet you gave me, so it will be four in total.

Darkmore: Let me know when you’re in the shrine, ready for the portal, then.

Lexichan: Wilco.

Thirty minutes later, I opened the portal to Lithaes’s dark shrine, and welcomed my new visitors. “Sorry for the close quarters. The five priestesses are busy entertaining the others in the other three rooms, so there won’t be as much room as you might like tonight.”

Lexichan do’Urden Feytouched Dark Elf Female Level 70 Shadow Stalker (Ranger) / Tempest Blade (Barbarian) Titles: Hunter, Tempest, Daywalker, Undead Bane, Sadist, Executioner, Trophy Hunter, Elf Bane

Kilyn Keltris Dark Elf Male Level 65 Bowmaster (Ranger) / Assassin (Rogue) Titles: Elf Bane, Slave, Masochist, Hunter, Broken One

Ruva Half-fiend Medusa Female Level 70 Hellfire Fist (Monk) / Twilight Mistress (Warlock) Titles: Blindfighter, Human Bane, Elf Bane, Undead Bane, Celestial Bane

Cecily ‘Cookie’ Fogbrew High Human Female Level 71 Slaughterlord (Dark Paladin) / War Priestess (Priestess) Titles: Battle Chef, Undead Bane, Beast Slayer, Human Bane, Elf Bane, Dark Chef, Blessed of Arrena

Looking them over quickly to see how far they’d come, I raised an eyebrow at Cookie, and said, “So, what kind of diety is Arrena?”

Cookie beamed at me, and said, “Goddess of the Hearth, Beer, and Feasting! Seems she approves of my work making sure the members of Aria have the best food they can get.”

I nodded. “Well, in that case, I’m fairly certain that deserves a reward. And I happen to have heard there’s something you’d like quite a bit in this world.”

Cookie blushed fiercely as the other ladies giggled. Apparently, the ‘reward’ Cookie wanted wasn’t exactly a secret. But then, trying to keep gossip from spreading is a losing proposition, no matter what. He turned to the others, and said, “And I suppose you’re going to watch?”

Lexichan whistled innocently, while Ruva simply grinned. “Actually, the plan was for Lexichan to sit on this drow’s face until he either satisfied her or passed out, while I enjoyed myself with his lower half.”

I shook my head and then looked over to Cookie. “You’re a bit overdressed for a reward, aren’t you?”

I’ve never seen someone shed full plate armor so fast.

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