Nova Wars - Chapter 158
Sure, Terrans will come at you straight on. Straight into your teeth with a brick or a howling chainsword.
But they'll also come at you sideways. Come at you cattywhompus. Come at you in ways you don't know till you're laying there bleeding out and they're moving onto their next victim.
They don't stop moving.
You can think they aren't coming at you, but if you can't see them, you're already dead, you just don't know it. - Varakson Diplomat, data corrupted, 2354 PG
Sthsschk felt the tentacles in his great stomach twist and writhe and closed all of his eyes, squeezing them tight for a moment to try to clear the hunger away.
He had the report almost finished. Once it was finished he could go get something to eat.
Not that he was in any hurry to finish the report.
The subject was a grim one. The Admiralty had just admitted to what had to have been one of the largest blunders in tens of thousands of years.
Ornislarp Noocracy Naval Intelligence had incorrectly identified the Solarian Iron Dominion as TerraSol. They had mistakenly estimated that the single planet had the war fighting strength of every other single planet system the Noocracy had ever encountered.
Only, the Solarian Iron Dominion apparently had millions of spaceships, hundreds of billions of troops, and entire planets devoted to nothing more than building war fighting technology.
The Noocracy had such things. Factory planets. But not that turned out entire supermassive ships in what was estimated to be 16-25 months from empty construction slip to shakedown cruise. The Noocracy trained warrior caste, had ramped up the amount of warrior caste to three million a year.
The Solarians had apparently twenty-five million in training at any given time.
Another terrible failure by Noocracy Intelligence.
The big hulking ones with all the spikes had been determined to be the warrior caste. Spies and espionage before the bagging had reported there was millions of them after the Mar-gite War, but they had vanished.
The Noocracy had believed, at the time, that the Terrans had performed the basic logical action of disposing of the warrior caste that was not needed, rather than expend resources to support them.
But that wasn't the truth.
The truth was, that spies had managed to inform Noocracy Intelligence of just before they had been ejected from the Solarian System, there was no Terran warrior caste.
Every Terran was a possible warrior caste. The Terrans sent their best. Ones who had to pass difficult mental and physical tests to be a warrior.
And the huge hulking creatures?
They'd been kept in cryostasis.
The rumors had been true. Terrans and cryostasis mixed.
Now he had written the report and just needed to put the final cross reference numbers. But Sthsschk had grown hungry to the point that his great stomach was churning. He was grinding the teeth together. The interlocked 'fingers' on the outside lips kept tensing.
He was hungry and out of snacks.
Sthsschk was just about to just save the document and go to the vending machine when the door to his office cracked open.
"Mommy?" the voice was high pitched, weak.
The voice of a young Hamaroosan female pouchling, who was staring at Sthsschk with wide eyes.
"Is my mommy in here?" it squeaked.
Sthsschk stood up and moved around the desk slowly.
"She said for you to wait here," he said. He couldn't help it, his mandibles unlimbered from inside his mouth and the grinding plates rubbed together in a rasp designed to frighten prey.
The little pouchling squealed in fear, turned, and ran.
Sthsschk ran out of the office.
"MOMMY! MOMMY! HELP! HELP!" the pouchling was squealing.
"Shmee? Shmee? Oh, Digital Omnimessaih, Shmee, where are you?" echoed through the hallway.
The little pouchling was running, making noises of distress.
Sthsschk felt his great stomach opening up, the fingers unlacing to allow the lips to pull back and expose the interlocked teeth.
"MOMMY!" the pouchling shouted.
"SHMEE!" came the shout back.
Sthsschk put on a burst of speed, grabbing the little pouchling and pulling it into his mouth with his mandibles.
The pouchling screamed in fear, the sound cut off as Sthsschk rubbed the grinding plates together, crushing and bruising it without killing it.
It made noises of distress as it dropped into the first stomach. As he moved back to his office, feeling pleasure as the scream of horror from behind him, he closed his great mouth, interlacing the fingers together to hold the lips together. As he closed the door Sthsschk hurpled his minor stomach a few times and dumped the heavy little pouchling into his great stomach.
He burped as the little pouchling seemed to roll into his stomach. True, it was a large, waddling, fat little marsupial with four arms and a big head, but he didn't remember them being that heavy.
The lights flickered for a moment as he moved to the chair and sat back down.
He could hear the noises of distress in the hallway and he closed his eyes to savor them.
The pouchling was wiggling and he tried to still it with the tentacles, but his stomach must have been too acidic so now the tentacles were coated with too much protective mucus and it couldn't grab the little pouchling.
He opened the file and started working.
His stomach twisted, but he ignored it. The furry little thing was a little harder to digest than he thought it was. It had also gone quiet.
YOU WILL DIE HERE
Sthsschk blinked at the text in the middle of his report on the possible military industrial complex strength of just You're-A-Goon, since apparently they had something called The Blue Fairy Protocol at work.
He stared at it and it suddenly seemed to turn to liquid. It ran down the screen of his computer only to steam and dissolve.
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His stomach cramped.
Sthsschk shook himself and then decided he'd get something to drink. He got up, moved to the door, and went out, turning and locking it behind him. He turned back around and jerked back, keening in fear.
A Hamaroosan was in front of him, its fur and flesh melted away here and there to reveal bone. One eye socket was full of red fire the other had a white eye in it. It was screaming, raising a thick brush blade over its head with all four hands.
He jerked back, covering his braincase with his arms, closing his eyes and keening in fear.
Nothing happened. The scream had stopped.
After a moment he opened his eyes.
The hallway was empty.
Working too hard. Too long, Sthsschk thought to itself as it skittered down the hallway to the vending machine. He waved his bracelet in front of the machine and got a drink, water and nutrients, sipping at it through the straw as he headed back to his office.
He stopped when he saw his door.
Someone had hacked I AM GOING TO KILL YOU into the plastic coating of the door.
He drew back, looking around quickly. While his eyes looked around him at all times, he had to concentrate to see out of them, and like most of his species, he only saw in a 60 degree cone. Anything more required a lot more concentration.
It was mostly the warrior caste that could see in 180 degrees.
By the time his vision rotated back to the door it was blank again.
He blinked.
No carving. Nothing.
He opened the door and scurried through, letting it close behind him.
His left middle leg spasmed, flying out and smacking against the side of his desk. He cried out in pain and shifted to try to look at it.
It was broken off, laying on the floor, violet blood leaking from it.
He blinked, staring.
In between one blink and the next it vanished.
He shuddered.
Working too long? Maybe someone he ate? That pouchling had seemed a little heavy. Maybe it had eaten something that wasn't agreeing with him. He concentrated, writhing the feeding tentacles in his stomach to find the remains of the pouchling so he could eject it.
Nothing.
He tried opening his greater mouth to let any slurry from the pouchling run out.
His mouth wouldn't open. Trying to release the fingers, to let go of the interlacing, made them hurt, made them feel like they were tearing at his flesh. Trying to open his lips made it feel like his lip skin was going to tear, like his teeth were going to tear out at the roots.
The nerves around his stomach vibrated and he tried not to vomit as nausea filled him.
He sipped at the pouch, then moved to the computer.
The report was almost done.
He settled in, tapped the pointing device, then tapped in his six digit passcode.
The computer lit up and he stared in horror.
He'd sent the message to his superior!
He quickly opened up his mail program.
There it was. The message with "Attend to immediately" pinned to it.
The message was: "Eat or be eaten".
That made him nod. That was a good way to sum up the Solarian Iron Dominion.
Feeling a sinking feeling he checked the attachment.
Only, it wasn't the report.
It was images of his supervisor with large animal genitalia in his mouth. The caption read "OH NO! I AM CHOKING ON A MILLION DICKS!" with his supervisor's name on the image, unnecessarily.
The next was of Sthsschk himself with an angry expression, pausing mid-mating with an obese and ugly female. There was a sign on the wall that was a circle with the Solarian letter for "K" in the middle. The caption was: "Really? In front of you mom?"
Sthsschk made noises of distress. His supervisor was going to murder him!
Another image appeared. It was of his superior, only coded as female, wearing the wrap and leggings of a common prostitute, with the words "GOT ANYMORE OF THEM REPORTS?" on the bottom, holding an artificial penis as if it was a Treana'ad smokestick.
Keening in horror, he reached forward to shut off the computer.
The images vanished and his hand froze.
The dark screen had words slowly appear.
I TOLD YOU THAT YOU WOULD DIE HERE
The pain started.
And he found he could scream.
0-0-0-0-0
Ngychhhk rushed down the corridor, all six of his legs moving to propel him rapidly down the hallway to the blank plastic coated door of one of his subordinates. He was so angry that his vision had tunneled down. His great stomach was awash with acid and his lesser stomach was producing acid and then squeezing to force the acid into his greater stomach.
How DARE Sthsschk send him such images! How DARE that incompetent functionary insult his mother, his spouse, HIM in such a matter.
Carved on the door were words that made him pause for a second.
But only a second.
Ignoring the "YOU WILL REGRET OPENING THIS DOOR" that was carved into the soft plastic, he waved his bracelet in front of the door. It opened to reveal a square of jet black.
He was so angry he didn't bother thinking, he just rushed in.
The door shut behind him, booming shut like an iron gate.
He slid to a stop.
It was pitch back.
"Show yourself, coward, and be eaten!" he screeched.
A single light lit with a hiss. A red flame at the end of a thin wooden stick. The brightness made Ngychhhk jerk back, hissing. The flame touched a twisted fiber wick, passing the flame.
The single flame was lifted up to reveal a long, narrow, pallid face with jet black eyes.
A Terran face.
"I warned you," the Terran stated.
The candle brightened and Ngychhhk stared at what was revealed behind the Terran.
Sthsschk was pinned on the wall, his legs stretched out to full extension, his insides opened, laid out like a vivisection experiment.
Ngychhhk saw that his underling was alive and trying to scream but he was unable to inflate his lung.
The Terran was tall, dressed in black outer clothing with a white undershirt. It had dark black hair, pale skin, and a golden medallion at its throat held there by a red ribbon.
"You think that you are the top of eat," the Terran said.
Ngychhhk began to try to back up, bumping into the door.
The Terran exposed long sharp pointed teeth.
"But you are not," the Terran said. It blew out the little flame, dropping the stick, and moved around the desk.
Only the candle kept the darkness back.
"And I do not say blah bleh blah."
The candle went out.
And the screaming resumed.
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Brr.
That's twice.
Something wicked this way comes.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
What? What is it?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
I sense... I sense...
wait... I hear it...
three words...
three words...
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
what, sis? What? What are the words?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS--
Three words that aren't said but echo
three words
I hear them
a whisper
I hear them
blah bleh blah
Blah Bleh Blah
BLAH BLEH BLAH!
BLAH BLEH BLAH!
>HAT WEARING AUNTIE HAS BEEN DISCONNECTED FROM THE SERVER (Connection to Client Lost)
RIGEL
No...
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
PUBVIA
Oh no...
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
LANKY LANKY YOUR NAME IS FRANKY
<SCREAMS>
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
>Hat Wearing Auntie has joined the server
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
My head hurts. The seers are all hiding in their homes.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
With good reason, sis.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Why? What did I say?
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS
Blah bleh blah
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Oh no.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
The Obelisk slowly rose up out of the bubble of not-quite formed space, the runes burning coldly on the surface as it slowly lifted up out of the puddle of dark matter that had flowed from the tear in space-time.
A warship rose with it. Massive, twisted superstructure and strange lines. Jagged edges, sharp corners. A ship designed with carnage in mind.
The Gravewatcher stared at the holotank as the distortion cleared, his hand held up to hold off the thunder of his ship's massive guns. He had slumbered long in the depths of the not-space but his guns were live as he waited to see who dared wake him from his sleep.
The image cleared to reveal a Daughter of an Immortal. She stood on the bridge of a ship crewed entirely by her siblings. She was short, her black hair cut short, her face plain, her gray eyes dark.
She recited ancient codes, chanted ancient permissions, cast spells forbidden to mortals that had long since forgotten such things existed.
The Gravewatcher closed his fist.
The guns went dead.
0-0-0-0-0
The small human female did not bother with a vac-suit, did not bother with fiction. She would not insult The Gravewatcher with such untruths. He was an Ancient, from the Time of the Immortals, from the time of her father.
And he deserved respect from her and her sisters.
She followed The Watcher as the massive figure moved through the dark and silent halls of the Obelisk AKA Black Box 536169-6c6f72-204d6f6f6e. Dust left ropes in the corners of the hallways, lights flickered and buzzed, and their footsteps echoed.
Finally they reached the unremarkable room on the center of the Obelisk. There were no chairs, no comfort offered, just a single waist high rectangular pillar with a faintly glowing square on the top.
The small woman put her hand against the datapad.
Data scrolled by in midair, stopping at the very end.
ACTIVATE PROJECT?
She touched the yes icon.
0-0-0-0-0
The girl's eyes fluttered open.
She was a Lolita Sorceress of the Sailor Moon Sisterhood...
...and she was Born Whole.
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
The seers cry out in fear
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
SOLARIAN IRON DOMINION
They attacked Terra itself.
You know what happens next.
/////////
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
Of everyone...
Yes. Yes I do.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---
SOLARIAN IRON DOMINION
Are you with us?
/////////
HAT WEARING AUNTIE
You know we are.
May the Digital Omnimessiah forgive us for what we are about to do.
---NOTHING FOLLOWS---