u/FarmWhich4275

Exploration missions are the simplest, most direct and to the point operations in the galaxy. Go to a place - find what is there - report back to what you found, and let everyone else find out what to do. It has its complexities certainly, but with hundreds of billions of stars, trillions of lightyears of something-potentially-in-between, and who knows what else, we weren't that concerned.

We are the crew of The Caldann's Grace, the largest and most impressive Exploration Cruiser to date within our small but burgeoning empire. Like all others who came before and those who go after, we believed we were the pinnacle of civilization. Stellar travel, computational science, planetary atmosphere recalibration. We did it all and like all others we thought we were the pinnacle, the peak, the absolute, of all life in the universe.

That thought didn't last very long.

We were ten jumps into our sojourn across the empty void. Procedure was simple. Use our navigation beacon, mapping archives, coordinates and many other things we have acquired over the centuries of staring at the stars, then calculate distances, ratios, energy requirements, then find the exact jump coordinates to a random star system. Then we engage the drive, travel there and explore. So far, we have found a lot of very interesting things. Like the previous star system that had two failed stars, known as Brown Dwarfs, orbiting a central point while a system of small rocky moons surrounded them. Interesting!

This jump produced a Trinary star system. One large Main Sequence Star, two smaller Main Sequence stars, and one small orbiting volcanic planet. And in this trinary star system... we found THEM.

A civilisation of chaotic madmen who seemingly perform feats of unimaginable prowess and strength for no other reason than 'because we could'.

Surrounding each of these stars was a massive structure of unimagined proportions either partially or completely covering each star. Millions of klinks in diameter and trillions of tons of metal and alloys each. The small volcanic planet was completely overshadowed, but itself surrounded by a massive ring of some kind. None of the structures appeared to be complete structures, or were designed as such, containing 'windows' for lack of a better term, that allowed the light of the star they contained to be seen.

The largest was a Sphere, the other two were a Cube or Cubic Frame structure, and the last was a large four-cornered Pyramid. Each one seemed to have its own unique construction techniques, each one seemed to be made of its own variant of alloy or metal, and each one had, carved into its surface, thousands of what can only be described as 'runes'. Surrounding the stars was, a massive fleet of automated ships, seemingly being used to ferry resources between each structure.

We became immeasurably excited and immeasurably terrified all in one breath. We began performing scans. We were interrupted by the sound of a massively booming voice that hijacked all of our ships systems, and broadcasted into our ship. A system of holographic screens appeared in front of us. This happened to every member of the crew.

"BEHOLD THE GLORY! BEWARE THE SHARPNESS! THE CORNERS!! THEY CALL TO YOU!!!"

The screens that appeared in front of us now showed three lifeforms. They were all the same species apparently, wearing different uniforms... Or hats, at least. The one on the left, had a large cube-shaped hat and stood in a cube-themed room. The one on the right had a Pyramid aesthetic, and a pyramid shaped hat. Both of those stood at podiums, talking like priests preaching the truth of the universe. The one in the middle, for lack of a better description, seemed like the 'normal' one, sporting clothes, aesthetic and office space similar to my own.

"BEHOLD THE CUBE!! THE TRUE SHAPE, THE GLORIOUS GLINT! THE CUBE SHALL COME FOR ALL!! I AM DEREK OF THE CUBE!! I PREACH THE TRUE SHAPE!!" He bellowed.

Before we could say anything, the Pyramid guy spoke up.

"He speaks lies. LIES I SAY!! Only the PYRAMID IS TRUTH!! These three corners speak a greater reality than the cheap SQUARES. Triangles are the truth. I am Reginald... OF THE PYRAMID!"

We stood terrified and confused. Then the sphere guy spoke.

"Hey, cool, new people. Nice to meet you, I'm Fred. Fred of the Sphere. I have pizza." He said, and gave us a warm, inviting smile as he presented two paper boxes of some kind, one shaped like a triangle, the other like a square, and each with a delightfully appetizing circular foodstuff of some kind inside it.

"Oh hey Pizza..." The other two said simultaneously. A moment of peace and calm came over us. All the tension vanished. At least for a moment.

"SEE!? DO YOU SEE THE POWER OF CUBE!? WITHOUT CUBE THERE CAN BE NO ROUND! WITHOUT CUBE, ROUND ESCAPES!" Derek barked.

"Pathetic lies! Stupid reasoning! How can one trust such simple thoughts? Pyramid is LIFE! Pyramid is DEATH! Pyramid would fit MANY rounds within it! Cube has limits, Pyramid has NONE!" Reginald barked back.

Fred just smiled, a sinister, playful smile. Not a smile that scared us, a smile that confused us. "Please excuse my compatriots, they are rather... spirited. Would you like some pizza?"

We sat there bewildered for a few moments and questioned everything around us in silence. Passing glances, questioning looks. Then finally one of the ship's Engineering crew spoke. "Uhm... What is a 'pizza' exactly?"

Derek said 'Delicious' and Reginald said 'Delightful' at the same time, and both immediately began yelling.

"DELICIOUS!"

"DELIGHTFUL!"

"I SAID IT IS DELICIOUS! LIKE A GLORIOUS CUBE OF NUTRIENT PASTE!!! PERFECTION INCARNATE MADE GREATER BY THE SQUARE BOX!" Derek bellowed.

"Lies! Triangle reduces surface area, less chance for heat to escape and release aroma! CUBE fails to contain the PIZZA! Triangle is where pizza shines!" Reginald yelled back.

Fred just stood there, waiting for an opportunity while maintaining that strangely cheeky smile. Eventually the other two stopped yelling and Fred cleared his throat. "Well... A pizza is a deliciously delightful edible item that is wheat or grain based bread dough, rolled flat, covered in various toppings, a base sauce of red or white, sometimes others. Then a topping of a type of dairy curd known as 'cheese' is sprinkled on top, a selection of toppings to cater to the eater's tastes, and then is cooked in an oven for a time before being sliced up and served. Pizza, is food. Very, very good food."

We all looked at each other for a moment and eventually I spoke up. I raised a hand and gingerly said "Uhm... yes please?"

Fred snapped his fingers and in front of us a paper box appeared, a strong INCREDIBLY DELICIOUS scent wafted from each one and throughout the ship as a whole as they popped in front of us. At first, concern. They can teleport things... INTO our ships... That... was concerning. on the other hand, the grumbling of our stomachs from that incredible smell made us abandon sanity and start eating.

And by all the ancestors... It was the finest meal I ever had. Judging by what the rest of the crew were experiencing, I would say they matched my sentiments. Half of the crew received the pizzas in triangular boxes, while others received theirs in square boxes.

The entire time we were eating, Derek and Reginald berated each other about Cubes, Pyramids, and how they compared our reactions to the food based on their chosen... geometric shape, I suppose, and how theirs was better. I tried a slice from my Commissar's triangular box - it tasted the same frankly. Amazing.

Suddenly the noise ended and we noticed how Derek and Reginald were still arguing, but we could hear nothing.

"Ahh... sweet silence. As fun as it is to torment those two, sometimes the greatest shape is the button labelled 'mute'. So to business, I am Fred, like I said, I am not red, I am not dead, I am from Hamstead, where I was bred, just Fred. I am an orderly in charge of this array of superstructures as part of the Terran Allied Systems. The TAS for short. You are-?"

"I am... Janus Orrik of Clan Lum. We are an expeditionary cruiser of the Skatanii Imperium. We were exploring the galaxy and our jump drive brought us here." I replied.

Fred pressed some buttons on a console in front of him. "Huh... Nice design, spacious interior, Battlecruiser class in size. Type 2 Subspace Wormhole Drive with a hypermatter conversion reactor. Fancy! I quite like the overall design. reminds me of some ships on an old space MMO from way back. Nice. You guys are quite far ahead of the others we've found. Pat yourselves on the back, besides us you're at the top of the tech chain! Top five at least!" He said, giving us a warm smile and a polite but sincere clap.

I beamed with pride and instinctively puffed out my chest.

"I see a few problems though. I see you quite haven't figured out the heat management issue. Shields can only operate so long and then they need to vent heat into space. Not that efficient. Thruster bays are kind of cluttered, small ports where there shouldn't be, like you overdid them. Pipes look like spaghetti and conduct heat far too efficiently to be in an engine network. Compensating for something perhaps? And that armour plating... Beautiful shape and design but... A stainless steel like alloy? For starships? Really? Glass cannon that thing." He said.

The pride faded, replaced by anger. "Oh. Well... I see. That... hurt a bit." I said.

"I wonder if those two are done yet..." Fred said and pushed a button.

"CUBE!! THE SHAPE IS CUBE!!!" "NO IT IS NOT! IT IS PYRAMID!!"

"No they aren't. Apparently. Let me see... Ah good, I have those available. Old but still good, not too far ahead the bosses will get angry at me. Oh, the comms array! Yeah I forgot that... Now... Thruster designs. Hmmm... That one. Not so fancy but they should be able to better their cable management. Spaghetti... tasty for food, not so much for pipes and cables. It looks like the main issue is alloying and metalwork. Seems the issue is resources judging by the records. This should do it." Fred said.

"Pardon me but what are you up to?" I asked.

He typed a few things again and I felt a dull thump echo through the ship. "Giving you some presents. Check your cargo hold. Should be a few things you might find useful. Also gave you some stuff stored on drives, basic info, stuff we give everyone really, introductory package. I gave you some extra bits 'cause that ship is just so pretty! Love the gold and silver with the matte black trim, very nice! In my opinion anyway."

My eye stalks straightened as I heard that and with a swiftness I never knew I could give my fingers swept across the console in front of me. A new item had appeared in our cargo hold. Some kind of engine, samples of armour plating and what looked like computer systems, among a few other things I didn't recognise.

I looked it over and back at Fred. He had unmuted the other two who were discussing lunch... apparently. Or something. "So anyway, thanks for joining us and welcome to the galaxy at large. And stuff." Fred said.

"Uh... Th-thank you! Thank you very much! But... I must ask. What exactly is going on here?" I asked.

"THE POWER OF THE CUBE IS WHAT IS HAPPENING!!" Derek bellowed.

"NEIN! THE PYRAMID IS WHAT IS HAPPENING!" Reginald bellowed in protest.

"This is a structure known as a Dyson Sphere. The spherical one is being used to harvest and supply power and energy to the other two. The Dyson Pyramid is being used to study subspace distortions using artificial wormholes. The Dyson Cube is being used to perform various physics experiments involving gravitational manipulation. The small vulcanite planet over there is basically being used as a shipyard for the operations that take place in-between. All in all, this is a very low-level operation. At least in comparison to the Quantum Hyperbrain Project." Fred said. the other two nodded in agreement.

"What is a Quantum Hyperbrain?" I asked.

"Its a computation complex surrounding a small black hole that we are going to try use to determine the exact mathematical formulation for the meaning of the universe. Or... something... do we actually know why we are building that thing?" Fred asked his compatriots. The two just shook their heads. "Building it just because apparently. Oh well. Guess we will know eventually." Fred said with a shrug.

I stood there for a few moments barely able to think. A billion different thoughts were running through my head at once. What the hell did we just find!?

"But anyway, we all have better stuff to do. But before you go, would you like some pizza to go?" Fred asked, presenting more boxes of that amazing confection. This time the pizzas were different, one was shaped like a square, the other like a triangle, both served in boxes shaped like a hexagon.

"ABSOLUTE BLASPHEMY! WHAT HERESY IS THIS!? THIS WAS YOUR DOING PYRAMID BOY!!!" Derek yelled in rage.

"I WOULD NEVER! This abomination is YOUR fault you cube obsessed villain!" Reginald yelled back.

Fred regained his sinister, yet strangely warm smile. He pressed some buttons and chuckled to himself as more pizza appeared in front of all of us. Fred waved us away as he chuckled silently and somewhat sadistically as their argument continued. We silently left the star system and headed home to make our reports and tell the Council.

This was insanity... and we needed to know how to face it.

If you are reading this document, then it means you are an individual or organisation of substance, means, prowess and power. It means you have the influence and status needed to sway the direction of galactic history.

Well, you WERE.

We all know what happened these last two decades on the Galactic stage. For the first time in over ten thousand galactic cycles something like it has happened. I wont bore you with the details, but I will remind you of one simple fact: The Kataskanii Imperium no longer exists because they attacked first.

I am going to make something clear before I continue: I am NOT here to display tactics for subversion or encourage negative action, especially not after THAT. I'm here to give you some advice. What follows is a simple list of the most notable elements of terran politics with whom you NEED to get into good graces with.

To do what? Patience. Read on.

The Jovian Royal Assembly, the J.R.A.

Firstly we have a faction that hails from the Jovian system in Sol, a collection of the four Gas Giants in the Sol system, and all their relevant moons. The Jovian Royal Assembly or J.R.A. I am sure we all know them by now. The most... agreeable, if terrifying faction within the Terran Confederacy. And also the most powerful of them.

History goes that way back in the early days of human exploration and expansion, they settled and established themselves within what is known as the Jovian System, or rather, their moons. Sol is uniquely defined in that the system has FOUR natural Gas Giants in its orbit, a truly rare circumstance. Naturally - this is prime placement for the Starship Fuel Industry, and the Jovian Royal Assembly took full advantage. Thus they came to power.

So that's the history lesson. If you want a deeper look, you can find all the public information by yourself.

Why them?

Simple you simpleton: They are the primary source of the monstrous nightmares that are the Coursairs.

Yeah. THOSE. The sole biomechanical occupants and operators of massive continent sized warships that can turn entire star systems to slag with one shot. The crazy madmen with no loyalty to any nation or ideal beyond a simple doctrine who perfected 'black hole cannons' and other such machinations. The shipyards of Europa are directly responsible for the manufacture of Coursair warships, systems and training.

Think in your head. use the brains that the Gods bestowed upon ye.

Get into their good graces... and we can have our own Coursairs prowling the galaxy. The tech, the machinery, the industry, all of it... Imagine just what we could accomplish.

Thought about it? Good. I thought it was a good idea too.

Up next, the T.F.S.N. The Terran Federal Star Navy - the official military coalition force responsible for the massive two hundred thousand strong warship fleet that defends Sol and its colonies.

After the Jovian Rebellion, the TFSN was formed, creating a full coalition of ALL Terran Factions into one substantive military force. It's actually part of their entire system that keeps the Terrans for all-out-war. ALL factions, new and old, (in Terran space at least) are LEGALLY required to sign up a portion of their navy fleet strength to the coalition in order to access Terran trade and markets. Military service is mandatory to acquire a traders or merchants license for the faction you work for.

And for some reason, this simple rule has resulted in humans being relatively peaceful among each other for centuries. Don't ask us how it works, it just does, and we aren't complaining.

The reason you would need to get into their good graces is simple: humans take care of their allies. We all know this fact at least, and EVERY time the humans have been called on to help - they have come to help. Now consider that the T.F.S.N has a standing navy of two hundred thousand warships ranging from simple corvettes to gargantuan Titan class vessels or Juggernauts.

We join them, or at least get in good standing with them, that fleet will be ours to command. Or at the very least, wont ever be deployed against us.

See where I'm going with this? I know you do.

Next we have the BlackWatch Company Mercenaries, or B.W.C.

Proudly sponsored by the J.R.N. and I.M.D.C. respectively, they are a private military corporation that runs on the Terran Federations Laws Of War, and even to this day is the ONLY mercenary group that signed on to the Galactic Confederacy's Pledge Of Peace.

Why specifically these and not some other mercenary group? Two reasons.

They have lawyers. Twenty percent of Blackwatch's active servicemen are noted lawyers, judges and even former police, and they accept anyone in their ranks. Blackwatch Company can get around almost ANYTHING and they KNOW exactly what they are doing, local laws included.

But most importantly: They have the galaxy's only militarised Psionics divisions and are directly responsible for the event... That one... You know the one. Saracus Four? That one. We don't talk about that one, do we?

BlackWatch were the ones we sent in. And we know how that ended.

Very, very well.

If you have ANY form of anomalous activity, ghosts, demons, you call BlackWatch, they will fix it. Considering all of us are not immortal, and we live on millions of worlds across space, there's got to be a haunting or two somewhere, or a drinks cabinet that's slightly too homicidal. BlackWatch is where you go to make your nightmares go away, in both the spiritual, and legal sense.

The Interstellar Mining And Defence corporation, the I.M.D.C.

The IMDC is one of the most powerful mining conglomerates in the galaxy. Formally sponsored by the Jovian Royal Assembly during the early days, and now formally recognised as the premiere mining company. Why specifically the IMDC above the literal thousands of others?

Because they are THE mining company. Their Starborne Enginseers are the absolute best when it comes to on-site construction and engineering. You name it, they mine it, you want it, they drill it. The IMDC are famed for having the most accomplished mining operations of any in the galaxy from core, to sky.

Their methods are insane, esoteric and some might say suicidally stupid. But efficient, cheap, and profitable. They can strip-mine an entire system's worth of asteroids in a matter of months, and produce DOUBLE what any other mining corps in the industry can do in half the time. Well worth the money to hire them for long term projects. They also have no limits for taking contracts.

Primarily because of the Starborne Enginseers I mentioned? Immortal. They can't permanently die. They use some kind of system we have yet to identify to transfer the consciousness of a user to a simulacrum and use that as a means to work. Which means they have no fear... and can mine literally anything, literally anywhere. You ask for something, they will give it. Have a mining project you can't go for because it's too dangerous? A specific resource you want? Ask them. They will deliver ten times what you ask... For a fair price.

TCSA, The Terran Corporate Sector Authority.

These are the localised equivalent of a conglomerate of corporate sector states, corporate entities and private businesses that have formed into a Syndicate.

They are the equivalent of the Galactic Merchants Guild, only for smaller, localised planetary states.

What are the benefits of the TCSA above the Merchants Guild you ask?

Cheese.

Enough said really...

The galaxy is addicted hopelessly to the tasty, savoury chewiness of Terran Cheese and cheese based products. Among other things. And because the Merchants Guild classifies it as a narcotic, they won't sell it. But through the TCSA, you can buy it wholesale - legally, even with a Merchants Guild member right there.

How?

Legal loophole, that's how. Cheese cannot be sold by a non-human due to the fact it is a narcotic substance that is quite dangerous to some members of the galactic population.

Make a human sell it to you. It's a FOOD source to them, not a narcotic. You purchase it as such in bulk, they sell it as such - and it doesn't qualify as illegal, because of interspecies classifications. To humans - its food, therefore in the eyes of the law - its food too when you have it after buying it from them. A simple technicality, gives the hottest item on the galactic market.

That little fact is a loophole the Children Of The Curd (yeah, those guys, the crazy cheese cult) fought the Council to maintain all those years ago and ever since.

And the TCSA, have direct access to the primary sellers and producers of ANY substance or item the Guild refuses to sell.

Need I say more?

Finally, the United Systems Space Marine Corps.

The official military arm of the Earth Federal Navy, the original warriors of the Terrans before the Jovian Rebellion.

Why them?

Legionnaires.

The Terrans conglomeration of superhuman supersoldiers, genetic abominations and cybernetically augmented insanity that is the Green Legion.

I... generally don't need to say why you need to get into their good graces.

But as a reminder:

A Legionnaire once beat four Daatharian Praetorians in hand to hand combat.

A Centurion once oversaw one of the most dangerous prisons in the galaxy - with no incidents for over a decade.

A Legion Mechanist once manufactured an army of fifty thousand warbots in less than a month, singlehandedly defending a colony world from a Hive Fleet invasion.

A Legion Marine company of thirty men, held the line for six weeks against an overwhelming force of twenty five thousand.

Get it now? Then we are on the same page.

I can be certain that anyone who receives this document is intelligent enough to understand the implications of its contents. And the likely direction future policies will point.

Military prowess unmatched in galactic history.

Economic access never seen before in civilisation.

Technological prowess the Precursors would die for.

And we all know how this occurs.

I don't need to say more, so I'll close out for now.

Be polite, say please, say thank you, and don't lie to them. You'll understand soon enough.

Signed

Graxx Thorakk'Lom, of Clan Olivar

Saranian Imperial Intelligence

"Great Days and Glorious Victory! Welcome to a VERY old game that I got from a fan, who respectfully requested I make a video on it. Welcome to a game called Shoppe Keep. This is uh... A game about being a shopkeeper in a fantasy world. Apparently. This game is... Astonishingly simple. Apparently. Lets... Go for it, I spose."

Spiff starts his game, names his shop 'Spifflehouse' and enters the game. He starts out in the player house which is, despite some minor gold coin sacks here and there, seemingly empty. Shelves barren, tables empty, not much to speak of.

"I started here so... Oh. There, tooltip present, this is apparently my house. Seems a bit... empty for the house of a merchant. That's what I am right? Go to the shop I guess. I wonder what this game is like..."

Spiff steps out and enters the large building opposite - which is his shop. It's empty, not even displays, and here he gets to know the game's rather unintuitive control scheme.

"Okay... Says I need a display. How do I build one or buy one? Uhh… What was it? I think it was Q. Oh, it is! A pedestal holds any small item. The shelf holds 12 small items. Okay... I can't afford more than two Pedestals so I'll put those down and spend my money on Health potions. People need those right?"

He opens the shop panel and orders 4 potions. He sees he has a merchant's discount, and everything costs ten percent less than the asking price.

"Oh that's handy... hmmm... I wonder though, is that... the standard? Can I go higher than ten percent? Uhh… I don't know. Screw it, let's go fifty percent above the standing price and suffer the consequences! It will be a good spot to start at least."

Spiff goes into eth back room and takes a look, eyes immediately drawn to a glowing magical amber portal prominently against a wall. Out of which pops a large chest.

"HEY WAIT A MINUTE!! ARE WE DOING MAGIC-Y WITCHY STUFF!?"

He pauses the game and huffs in annoyance before rolling his eyes and carrying on.

"FINE. I'll... Do it for you lot. For some reason. Magic-y Witchy stuff it is. So long as I don't have to do too much of it. So, pick up chest, poof I have potions in inventory. And I just click on the pedestals with it equipped and... Yup, that's it. Display active. Use keys to increase price. Okay. Bought for 10, sold for 15, that's a one hundred fifty percent price... Or something, I don't actually know how the monetary system works. These percentages are silly, not to mention mathematically absurd. Percent means per hundred. Its in the name! SILLY."

He shrugs and opens the shop by pressing F by the front door. Then stands there as the first customers start trickling in. Nobody comes anywhere near his store so Spiff takes the chance to go to the back area to explore. He finds a Quest Board for content not yet unlocked, and instructions on how to use the cauldron. A personal chest that is empty, and a secret access door from shop to house.

"That... makes sense. I was scared I was suddenly teleported to a different place then I read the damn text. That's... Handy. Somehow. Don't know how. There's a... hidden door here on this wall I think? It's a doorway clearly but blocked off. Future content. What are these? Taps? Wood, metal, gold, Mirr... the hell is Mirr? Junk and bone. Resources? And this big machine is... big and has gears on it that spin. Okay. No idea what that is. Its a metal grate above some... fire? And a statue of some... person? Don't know who that is. And a board on the wall with outlines of things that are... Empty. Okay. Back to the shop."

Right as Spiff exits the back a customer wanders in.

"HELLO CUSTOMER WOULD YOU LIKE TO BUY A POTION!?"

He squeals this is an abnormally enthusiastic manner and shakes his head, visibly confused as to why he just made such a racket at such a volume. The customer wanders over to the stands, Buys a potion for 15 gold and leaves stating 'You seem like a good person!' before leaving.

"The NPCs in this game SPEAK? Okay... That's... good to know. But my first sale! HA! Excellent! Now to wait here for a few more minutes and see what comes of the next guy."

Spiff waits for another minute or two before getting tired and heading out. He starts to Xplore the area while at the same time yelling at the NPCs who pass too close to the shop.

"OY! See the potions? There's more in there! Buy one. Come on. You know you want to! BUY MY THINGS!"

He wanders about and finds there is a prompt near the trash bin at the front of the shop. He sifts through the trash and by lucky shot, he receives a set of Plate Shoulders as a reward. Worth a pretty penny no less.

"Plate Shoulders? These would be pauldrons wouldn't they? Know what? I'm not questioning a free thing I can sell. Increase by fifty percent and put them on pedestal. Now to... Wait."

Eventually a customer wanders in.

"HELLO WARRIOR AMBER JOHNSON! BUY SOMETHING!"

Spiff again shakes his head, and seems to be slightly confused as to why he is doing that. The NPC wanders over, buys the health potion, and walks away.

"Hey hold on a minute! Oy! Pauldrons! Erm.. Shoulders! They're good! What? Talk to - I can talk to you? What can I? Buy item... check inventory... Offer Inventory item? What does that mean... WAIT A MINUTE! I can just sell them stuff straight to their faces!? BUY POTION NOW!!! Oh I cant, she already bought one, I think. YOU SIR, MARK SMITH. YOU WILL BUY A POTION!!!"

Spiff fails to check his volume, not for the last time and sells a potion to a random NPC. He quickly charges about and sells all his remaining potions before he notices the text pop up - Entrance Fee, 3 gold. He rushes over and sees an NPC has bought the Shoulders netting a tidy profit of two hundred twenty gold.

"Oh lovely, lovely! Money! I can buy stock! I'm going to get erm... Swords, shields, more shoulders, more potions. Let's see what I can do with these."

He heads out and ups the price of all items before going on a frenzy, yelling random phrases like "BUY THIS NOW" or "YOU WANT THIS. I KNOW YOU DO." All at an annoyingly loud volume with a strangely squeaky tone. He spends the entirety of the first day doing this, sifting through trash for random free items, before selling directly to every NPC he can see. In all, his first day is quite lucrative, netting him a tidy sum of 2600 gold at the day's end.

"That was... strangely entertaining! I enjoy this! Something quite nice about the rush of selling something. I feel weird though, like I'm forgetting or ignoring something. Eh, I'll figure it out. First, shelves and shop!"

He buys and places 4 shelves, two Counters, a hat rack, two weapons racks, two armour stands, and has enough cash left over to order a decent amount of mostly Leather based stock and potions. He places everything in a seemingly random spot and starts Day 2. The first customers start arriving and the shelves empty fast. Too fast.

"Well that certainly makes things faster doesn't it? They wander up to a display, buy a thing then leave. Oh! So that's the difference between buying direct and shelf, if I do shelf they buy MORE things! That guy just bought a shield and sword! Okay good to know, good to know."

Spiff gains a strange smirk as he notices he can just take items off shelves, such as a Frost Axe, and then sell it to any NPC, even the ones who just bought items from the shop. He tries his best, and every time an NPC buys something, he either grabs an item and sells it or sells his on-hand stock if there are no free slots available. The pattern repeats throughout the day. When he doesn't have any customers coming in, he either restocks, or at an annoyingly high volume and squeaky pitch, harasses passers by to come buy something.

"PURCHASE MY THINGS! CANT YOU SEE! GIMME GOLD NOW!!!"

Spiff eventually gets enough gold to expand to Plate armour and Fire Resistance Potions, and stocks up on those. While he is browsing a menu, one of the customers wanders in, emits an obnoxiously loud belch, then steals a Platemail from the rack before bolting out the door.

"HOW (redacted) DARE YOU!"

Spiff squeals and opens his combat menu, then zaps the guy with a lightning bolt, reducing him to only a pile of bones and the stolen item on the floor.

"Wait? I get this back? What was that... Did you... STEAL!? Didn't know that was... a thing that could happen. To be completely transparent sir, I did NOT kill you for the theft, I killed you because of that disgusting noise you made, and I did it out of principle! Now how do I get rid of you? Broom? Ah good, I can just sweep his bones under a rug and call it a day."

He sweeps the bones up and replaces the platemail, then does some maintenance and trash bin sifting. Another customer comes in a bit later and buys a sword, then steals a plate helm. She is swiftly shocked into oblivion before the helm is retrieved.

"That is behaviour I genuinely hope is NOT indicative of humans as a whole. Buy something then try to steal something else! Then again I don't think that a wizard throwing lightning bolts at thieves is a thing that happens either. I hope."

A few minutes later, he gets another thief, who is dealt with. Unfortunately, Spiff's aim isn't very good and he misses on the first shot, killing an innocent customer, before finally getting the thief but sadly taking another customer with her as collateral. The sound of a loud 'BOOOO!!!' from an invisible audience makes Spiff visibly recoil and sink into his seat as his shop loses a bit of appeal and faces a monetary penalty.

"Sorry..."

Eventually he regains his composure and resumes the habit of screaming "BUY MY THINGS!!!" at random customers in an annoyingly loud squeaky voice. He deals with a few more thieves, sells more things and ends the day with a tidy profit of 2500 coins. The game autosaves and he explores, eventually finding Sir Poshington in a back alley. Sir Poshington’s wares are upgrades for displays and shelves, but at extortionately high prices.

"Who the heck are you!? Sir Poshington? What are you, oh he's a trader thing. What are you - HOLY BUMFLUFF LOOK AT THESE PRICES!!! I mean... that looks important but HOLY (redacted) THE PRICE! No, I'm out."

Spiff moves on and returns to the shop, he does some maintenance and cleaning then buys more displays before opening the shop. He quickly restocks the shelves then stands outside waiting for NPCs to spawn.

"COME BUY MY THINGS NOW!!! I HAVE LIGHTNING MAGIC!!! I WILL USE IT IF YOU DONT BUY!!!"

Day 3 is when Spiff learns to take advantage of the 'Hot Items' list after noticing that Leather Boots and Recall Stones are selling to nearly every warrior that passes through. He quickly overstocks on these items as much as he can and quickly sells out of all of it, netting a tidy profit. The game's gameplay loop starts to shine, becoming very simple from this point. Buy stock, stock displays, customers buy stock, you kill thieves and try not to kill bystanders while chasing thieves. The gameplay loop is VERY simple. Spiff gets a questioning look at the game and emits an audible 'hmmm' as he zaps a thief.

Day 4 eventually arrives and he pauses the game there.

"I can tell where this game is going and it's not for a Galatube series, not in this day and age. I definitely like it. It's nice and relaxing every once in a while to just switch the brain off and... sell things, I guess. For the non-human audience, here is a SHOCKING piece of information for you about this. The scope of this game clearly goes a lot deeper, but I can't do it due to time constraints and lack of interest outside of myself. So consider modern programming. This is a game released in the human year of 2016. Consider what went into the development of the first Galactic venture cross system MMO 'Concierge Of Atlantea'. The MMO everyone's raging about. This one... ONE developer. Not team, not studio, no. One singular PERSON developed this game from start to finish. I will leave you with that, and be back another day with a more.... involved game."

Spiffles outro plays.

TOP COMMENT: (Translated from Kataskanii) SERIOUSLY!? One developer? One person ALONE made THIS!?

Reply: Yep, we do this all the time. you know the game Rimworld? One dude. Tynan. Know Factorio? Started out as maybe two guys. Space Engineers? Team of six. We do this all the time. Indie devs were all the rage even before the Great Gaming Collapse of '32.

Spiffs Reply: "Hold on, there was a gaming collapse!? Whats that?

Reply: Maybe some day you'll get it Spiff but... It wasn't JUST a gaming collapse.

Reply: (Translated from Eridani) Why is it when a human speaks in this manner, the only thing I feel is DREAD?

Spiffs Reply: Yeah... I know how you feel.

Reply: (Translated from Kataskanii) By the way, what was all that reprehensibly loud squealing you were doing???

Spiffs reply: Squealing? What? No idea what you are talking about.

"Dammit all!" The Captain barked in frustration as he looked over the newly built ship.

The dockmasters expressionless face and abnormally lanky frame towered over the Captain's exasperated form. He approached, speaking in the way one of the nomadic tribals often did.

"What's the matter Okulak? Does Okulak not like the new space Krennk? Okulak want bigger Krennk? Bigger Krennk will cost more sulakk." He replied, confused.

"No, no it's perfectly adequate for our purposes. More than that in fact, it's twice the size of the ship we lost on the way here. To be completely honest I owe you more than I already paid you and I cannot in good conscience let this slide, we will discuss that later. I just... Ugh... Nevermind." The captain sighed heavily.

Indeed the ship in the drydock was a ship, twice the size of the small exploration frigate they came with and gave in trade. But it was little more than two large thick cylinders welded together with engines. No break in the smooth detail beyond the hardpoints where turrets sat idle and a few exhaust ports for RCS thrusters or other such things. It was a good ship for what it was. It was just a bit... bland. Even for a Rakhoi ship, this was a bit empty looking.

One thing we know about the Rakhoi. They think as they look. Tall, empty and simple, but exceptionally reliable and honest. The ship would serve well but the Captain couldn't help but feel a bit sad.

"Why Okulak so sad? Rakhoi-kan sense sadness." The station master said.

"No, it's fine, honestly, you have done more than I could possibly thank you for. It's just... Bland. I have to use this ship for the next twenty cycles and it's very... bland. But that is beside the point. Come, let's go to your office. I need to pay you a bonus for the service." The captain said and gestured for the Rakhoi to follow him.

We watched them walk away and I questioned what was going on. I looked towards my companions, Jerry the human, Sekk the Olivarkian and Tess, Ray and Threep, the three Craboids.

"The hell's his problem?" Jerry asked.

I sighed. "Rakhoi ships are infamous for their blandness and simplicity. You won't find a more reliable ship to use but they are... How do I put this... Notoriously boring. Simple shapes, simple features, basic functionality. Many captains outside of Rakhoi fleets have reported going insane crewing these things because the inside and out is featureless, like a glass box or white room. They are very... unimaginative the Rakhoi, but their engineering abilities are renowned. The Captain is a bit sad because he now has this ship for the next forty or so Cycles... with the problems of the notorious basicness." I said, gesturing to the new ship.

"Oh. Okay. 'Ey! Buddy, c'mere!" Jerry said as he yelled for one of the station hands to walk over.

He did so and looked at the spacesuit wearing human with genuine bewildered curiosity. I forgot that Rakhoi haven't seen the humans before. He looked at me, questioningly. I simply said "Terran. Humans. New." To him and he nodded.

"Okulak want thing? What Okulak want? Need other Krennk?" He asked.

"Nah bro, just need to ask. All that junk you got over there. That pile of stuff. What is all that?" Jerry asked, gesturing to a seemingly random pile of junk nearby.

"Okulak, place is garbage. Need to rid it. Terr'aan want? Why want junk? Useless. Broken. Why want?" The Rakhoi asked.

"It ain't useless if you have a use for it. I got a use for it now. Mind if I take it all?" Jerry asked, looking at me.

I shrugged. "Scrap metal is scrap metal, we can smelt it down and pay for the bar tab. We have the cargo space now so, be my guest." I said.

"I aint melting it down bro. I have a better idea. Put all that in the cargohold, if you would be so kind." Jerry said with a smile behind his faceplate.

"Okulak want trash, Okulak get trash, save sulakk for better task. Think Terr'aan is crazy, but will not ask questions if work saved. Take trash, will give to cargo." The station hand said, shrugging his 'shoulders' and walked away to his console to start loading.

"Bitchin' bro. I'll get my tools. How long will we be in dock?" Jerry asked.

"I have no idea, could be minutes, could be hours. The ship has to be registered, then we have to wait for the transit authority to respond. But we should be gone at most in about four hours." I replied with a curious shrug.

"Plenty of time. Peace. My time to vibe now." Jerry said and slipped the sun visor on his helmet down.

He pressed a series of controls on the pads on his hands and the jets of his thrustpack rocketed to life before he left the safety of the station's bubble shield. One of the Rakhoi wandered over to me and looked at me expectantly, as if I had answers for a question he had yet to ask. I shrugged and watched as Jerry sprang to work. A handheld ion welder appeared as Jerry started to do... something. He scrambled through some choice bits of the scrap pile. The first thing he held was a series of pipes and cables, seemingly randomly and flew to the front of the ship where we couldn't see him. But we could hear him. I turned on my radio and shook my head as I heard music playing through it.

"Okay... he's out of it. It's the Factorio soundtrack again." I said.

The rest of the crew groaned in annoyance and likewise just sat down to watch the show. Jerry was crazy, but at least there was a methodology to his insanity. He entered the ship, carrying various piles of scrap, junk and discarded trash. He stayed there for a few minutes, then left, retrieving some more parts, repeating this process for a bit longer, taking more elaborate parts and components. We just sat and hoped he wasn't doing anything stupid.

We were fine with crazy, just not stupid.

The station hand next to me just watched, bewildered as the human worked around the cargo crane loading. Eventually all the junk was loaded and the cargo master walked up to me with the same questioning expression as Jerry started to haul parts and pieces of the scrap out of the cargohold deeper into the ship. An hour and a half passed, with only him doing... something inside the ship, with that music playing constantly. Eventually he had finished whatever task he had done and came outside.

And started welding random bits of garbage to the ship's hull.

"Jerry! What in the Void are you doing!?" I barked.

"Greebling bro. It's called Greebling. Now shut up, the Jazz remix is starting." Jerry replied as he cranked the volume and resumed his work.

He welded a set of stair railings all across the four edges of the ship's cylindrical hull, then started laying cables and conduits that connected into service access panels under the shell. Then, lights, panels, and started using his welder and grinders to fashion odd shapes around certain spots, using extra starship hull plating to form patterns. The Rakhoi were fully assembled now, staring in bewildered curiosity at what this odd creature was doing to their newly built ship.

He finished laying all of his cables and bits, then started wiring up a series of lights and glowing parts, heading inside the ship to fetch more components he needed. Then he got into the more complex stuff, and began wiring up some kind of strange new mechanism around all the thrusters. I watched him test one of these mechanisms and saw how it worked, sort of like opening the circular pattern of a flower blooming. He mounted it over the thruster nozzles and made sure it worked, then did the same to the other twenty seven units across the hull. Neon tubes, stair railings, strange railings and metal walls, and I saw with detail as he used some abandoned screens and mechanisms to label everything he was working with.

He seemed eventually to be done with this after about an hour or so, seemingly having an easier time of it than whatever he did in the inside. Then, he apparently started the 'real' work. Blown out fuel generators, hollowed out tyre casings, wheel rims, gear mechanisms and a litany of other components were seemingly hastily cobbled together and welded into place. For some reason. Various trusses and beams were welded into place in a varying pattern across the ship's hull. Followed by panels of some kind, blue in colour that shone and shimmered in the starlight, likewise welded to the hull.

One thing I did notice however, was that this 'greebling' he was doing was not interfering with the ship's capabilities. I had long since been given access to the ship's internal network and could clearly see no obstructions on the hull or line of sight to sensor networks. Nothing was in the way, the ship's systems seemed fine, and it looked like the components he was installing such as lights and such were drawing power from a brand new energy network. He then started welding some extra bits to the hull, bending various cables and using the heat from his welding torch to bend bars of metal into various shapes, then welded them to the hull.

Empty barrels and tossed storage crates were patched or repaired, then welded into place in some odd pattern. The exposed cables then had the same technique used to fashion conduit boxes and stable platforms, hiding exposed cables behind plating or scaffolding. Now came the strange glowing tubes of light and colour that he snaked through it all. Eventually he seemed done with whatever he was doing and flew to the dock where we all sat bewildered at him.

"Done. At least from my perspective. I'm gonna take a beer break, lemme know if you need me to add anything else. Got plenty to work with." Jerry casually said and wandered off toward the observation deck.

I quickly checked into the ship's systems and refreshed the control interface. Three new options appeared. I pressed the first one and the option appeared.

"What did Okulak do to ship? It look... strange. It look... Cluttered. But can see no issue. Can see all parts perfect. What he do?" The station hand asked.

"He... 'Greebled'. I guess..."

I used one of the station's drones to check around the hull and noticed. Everything was built in a symmetrical pattern, perfectly aligned and even on all sides. The hatches he built over the thrusters were actually thruster control caps that all Terran ships use for safety and maintenance. I recognised the pattern. I moved over to the sight of those strange panels he installed. Solar panels. They were drawing power from direct starlight and converting it into energy! That's what was powering his modifications! Everything had purpose and was built on solid sections of hull that didn't interfere with maintenance hatches or access points to the ships internals, or could easily be detached or removed with any hull plating for repair work. Some parts and components were angled, such as the trusses and panels near the shield generators that would easily deflect light munitions.

I checked the first option, labelled 'mood lighting' and activated it. The whole ship lit up with a display of lights in various colours, red, blue, yellow, purple and bright red, panels placed just so and trusses welded at just the right angle. The long tubes and larger lights lighting up, creating a beautiful display of colours and a use of shadowplay that created some mesmerising patterns across the hull. It changed the look of the ship completely, to a point I didn't recognise it.

The Rakhoi were making various gestures and talking to each other in their odd grunting language frantically pointing at the ship they built. I cycled through the lighting options and came across 'emergency hazard test mode' and activated it. the colourful lights vanished, replaced by a mixture of ominous yellow, red and blue lights that blinked or rotated in a specific sequence, some lights shining directly on emergency access hatches, signage or other important components. Other light modes included a 'standard operations' mode where it used a series of lights on the exterior to just light up the hull for cleaning or just simple work operations. A 'party mode' where the ship's lights would cycle through the colour spectrum.

I switched to the interior cameras and I nearly lost my ability to stand properly. Unfilled planters lined the walls, new lights installed inside as well, a new speaker system, so, so much more. Parts and components welded into place to break up straight lines with fancy curves, plating cut into soothing patterns and painted soft colours. All of it built without ever changing the ships effective operating ability.

"How... How did Okulak know to do this? What is... This? Is this 'greeble'? It... Nice. It... function. It... like." The station hand said.

"Yeah no kidding. He did this with just spare parts and scrap? Wait, he did! Look at the railing on the starboard side. That's the railing from a set of stairs. The trusses? I-beams and factory parts. The broken fuel engines he used there? He replaced all the interior parts with a set of barrels. I can actually see them in the scanner, they contain spare parts, lights and tubes. The conduits are solid too, looks like he reinforced them and put in secondary cables under the hull plating to make sure the circuit is there even if the top part blows off. And here... Isn't that a destroyed biovat being used to house a power cell?" I said, pointing at various bits and pieces I was noticing.

"How Okulakk do this? Can see... what word? 'Aeh-ss-the-tic'. Word for... Pretty? How he know scrap parts make look nice? Don't... Can't think. Me look." He said and took the control pad from me.

He performed a full systems check. No damage to hull components, no hindrance to ship controls, the thruster control hatches were opening and closing in perfect sync with the thrusters. He tested all ship systems according to standard flight tests. Line of sight was untouched, turrets had clear views and in some cases had better angles to work off of due to the 'greebles' acting as a layer of armour plating covering a weak spot. Inside the ship was more... lived-in, for lack of a better term, everything was neatly labelled and cleanly made, straight edges and empty space filled with shapes and curves that destroyed the sheer monotony of the hull.

He took some random scrap parts, and turned a set of cylinders with engines into a... Well. it was still a ship, but it was less of a bore and now a heavily industrialised work of art. When we finished work, the Rakhoi stood there bewildered as they looked at the ship, trying to understand what happened.

Jerry finished his beer and wandered over. "So, yeah, lighting system installed, hazard lights, navigation and terminal lights are there, all built off some solar panels I found. Must've been a Terran ship they had through here some time ago. Or something. Easy to repurpose. So not only will it not affect ship systems but we will be in full compliance with USSMC and JRN safety standards if we ever go into Terran space. Unlikely but there you go. I have to do some more spot welding with a better more dedicated welder but it should be solid, save a bit here and there. Anything to add?" He said.

We all stared at him, empty minded and wide mouthed.

"I LOVE IT!" We heard the Captain bellow loudly as he approached.

The captain gushed and awed over the 'greebles'. "By the Matriarch this thing looks fantastic! All the boring bits broken up by fancy bits! Didn't even change ships effectiveness or performance! I was hoping for a new paintjob but holy hell! Who did this?"

"The crazy human, who else?" Sekk said.

"I knew I recognised the style. That's the 'Industrofunk' style isn't it?" he asked.

"I worked with what I had both resource and time wise. It wasn't hard. Just see what looks cool and weld it in after making sure nothing important is in the way. Not much else to it. But anyway, we are now officially OSHA compliant and can enter Terran space without needing an expensive retrofit. I can slowly work through it all and do it properly when we can find or afford the parts and bits. If it works, it works." Jerry said with a shrug and activated his thrustsuit again, resuming his welding of some tubes.

"I shall never understand the insanity of humans or how they think but this truly is a gift! I wonder... What would he do if we had actual shipyard parts here and an actual manufactory he could use to make some real stuff instead of random scrap?" The Captain said.

We all shared a moment of concern. None of us had ever seen a Terran warship before. What were they like if THIS was the standard?

The Captain smiled his biggest smile. "Well this isn't getting any work done. Find your bunks gents, and don't be shy about the weld job. if you find loose parts just tell Jerry about it and he'll get to it in transit. Paperworks done, were free to go."

"Aye ser." I said.

I looked at the newly minted ship and wondered just what kinds of abominations humans were. What are they capable of if this is just random junk welded to a ship's hull? I mean, I did love the new style. It was a Godsend for us and we settled in faster than expected. But still. I had to look at Jerry in a whole new light now.

(To the Polish people who read this I am SO sorry.)

I walked alongside the Admiral, the man standing taller than I had ever seen him stand (despite the fact he was three feet shorter than me) and walked through the corridors of the ship. This was the 'Final Eternity', a well-known smuggler ship that casually wandered into Confederate Space and handed itself over. We knew all these guys all too well. They had slipped past our nets many times over with many taunts in our direction. A few close scrapes, a few legitimate deliveries and a few other things. I knew the captain by name.

I met him on shore leave once in a bar on the Rim. He bought me a beer. Nice guy. Bit shady, but nice.

We marched through to the main cargo deck, and the Admiral was feeling pretty damn sure of himself. He knew something we didn't, I guess. Maybe he had some solid evidence this time? Guess we would find out. I racked my rifle and made sure I had some concussion rounds loaded, plus a few live mags just in case. You never know.

The Admiral walked into the cargohold of the ship, where most of the smugglers, including the Captain, were standing around a mini golf course or something. They all had bewildered, confused expressions on their faces and one guy was wearing a harness, suspended about five feet above the ground in this golf course, using a watering can to very carefully water what looked like a wheat field.

"So... Found you at last! Finally have you dead to rights Captain Blythe! Found the White Sand in your cargo manifest! Illegal, that substance is." The Admiral said with a gloating tone.

The crew all just glared side-eyed at him and resumed staring confusedly at the golf course. Or... was it a golf course? It looked far too elaborate? It looked a bit like a recreation of Minas Tirith actually. A damn fine one no less. Why was it in here and why was that dude watering it?

"Tether field. Stay out." The guy in the harness said, and moved slightly to the left to water a tiny forest.

"You can't escape justice any more you foul rogues! I can tell by your actions and demeanour you finally understand the folly of your actions!"

Even I rolled my eyes at that, and the crew rolled theirs so hard I swear they might have broken their eye sockets.

"Admiral, would you please-"

"NO!" the Admiral barked and started to approach them. "Under Article five subsection two you are under arrest for-"

The Admiral stepped forward and a field of energy stopped him dead in his tracks. A Tether Field, a very powerful electromagnetic energy field that delivers a heavy concussive electrical shock to anyone who enters it without permission. The Admiral emitted that same incoherent babble-screaming that electrocuted people do in the movies. I acted fast, used my rifle sling to chuck a carabiner into his jacket collar and yanked him away onto the floor. He lay back stunned for a minute.

"I did say Tether Field you stupid git." The guy in the harness said.

"The hell is going on!?" I barked and moved closer to see what was there.

And holy balls was I NOT prepared for what I saw. It was not a model or a golf course, but a to-scale replica of Middle Earth in the middle of the ship's expansive cargo bay. And what should I see wandering about on the tiny grass in this place, like a very elaborate Terrarium? Elves. Tiny elves, about the size of a golfball. Some had noticed the commotion of the Admiral nearly electrocuting himself and were gathering to see what was going on. They pointed, they yelled, they squealed as they saw my helmeted face with a big bad gun.

The Captain looked at me and gestured for me to remove my helmet and holster my gun. I did so and as soon as the elves saw my face, the panic ended and they calmed down. They calmed down even more when I actively showed them the process of disarming and holstering my rifle. I stepped back and surveyed the place. Minas Tirith, Mordor, The Shire, Fangorn Forest, the entirety of Middle Earth recreated in perfect form in the cargohold of a smuggler cargo freighter. Granted these freighters are two kilometres long, so this thing had plenty of space to spare if they wanted it.

I looked at them and raised an eyebrow. "Why do you have tiny golf ball sized elves in your cargohold?" I asked.

"If I knew... I wouldn't look so confused. We went into stasis for a long haul trip to New Caladan on the far rim. When we woke up - we checked our cargo and found... THIS. A tribe of tiny magical space elves building a city in my Middle Earth replica set... I just... I have no idea what to do." Blythe replied with a shrug.

"First Contact with tiny space elves in the cargohold of a smuggler ship. God damn if there was ever a more obscure Bingo card option than THAT." I said, nervously rubbing the back of my neck.

"What in the ABSOLUTE HELL ARE YOU DARING TO DO BLYTHE!? YOU WILL HANG FOR THIS!" The Admiral barked as he slowly got up from the floor.

"For God's sake shut up and pay attention!" I said, grabbing the Admiral's collar and shoving him towards the place so he could see for himself. He babbled angrily before he suddenly stopped, tilted his head to the right, then slowly stood up and straightened himself out.

"Wh... What? How? When? What!?" He yelled confusedly.

"That's a very good question." The guy on the harness said. "But that's for later. It's the rainy season. The forest needs to be watered." He said and very gently used the watering can to pour rain onto the forest. "Not too much, otherwise flood. Seventeen seconds of downpour, very careful, very neat, then move to the Elven lands to rain on their parade for twelve seconds."

I looked around while the Admiral gathered his faculties and saw how this op was being run. Water purifier close at hand and three oxygen generators and CO2 scrubbers working overtime. The harness was the cargo crane, with a handheld remote used to move about, with three different securing mechanisms to act as a failsafe so he didn't fall on anyone. He was using what appeared to be a custom built watering can with a timed shut off valve in the spout to control rain weather. The cargo holds lighting system had been entirely replaced with the same lights used in Hydroponics bays, and were all on a dimming timer that gave the illusion of night and day. Along with a holographic projector that showed a moon/sun phase.

The Elves themselves were about the size of a Professional grade golf ball, give or take a few millimetres. They looked like they were in the late Medieval Era, I could see Men-At-Arms, muskets and a few cannons in their defences on the castles. They were far from an Industrial Revolution but I could tell by how many children I was seeing, the good harvests created by their circumstances was making their population boom.

"Okay... please tell me you have some kind of language database or scripture you can give us?" The Admiral asked.

"I am no diplomat and the language translation matrices just gave me a bunch of babbling waffle in response. I kinda think I know what they might speak, or what it sounds like, maybe, but... It's so esoteric it gives me face cancer trying to speak it. I'm a freighter captain, not a linguist or diplomat. We've been able to get away with kind gestures, slabs of chocolate and games of charades, but so far communications are effectively null. I do have this though." Blythe said, and handed me a datapad.

I looked at the images, slightly blurry but legible... sort of. "Looks like the scripture of one of their holy books, if the iconography is anything to go by. Very nice writing though, it's like Calligraphy." I said.

"They gave us a copy of their scripture after we 'airdropped' some packaged ration chocolates on an empty field. I had to blow it up by like two thousand percent to read it and this was the biggest copy they could give us so... Yeah, some of it is smudgy due to the size difference. Still can't make heads or tails of it. I couldn't do anything so as soon as we knew they were here, I rebuilt the cargo hold to keep them and ran my ass back to Fed Space. This is… I am NOT equipped for this." Blythe replied.

"Sergei." The Admiral asked.

"Yes sir?" I replied, snapping to attention.

"Call this in. Send for an actual Ambassador. Make sure the fleet puts the star system into lockdown. This can't get out until we know what we are actually dealing with." He commanded.

"Yes Sir!" I reached for my radio. "Echo base, this is away team, direct orders from the Admiral, full system lockdown. We have First Contact in progress, please send a diplomatic team immediately."

"Solid Copy away team, fleet moving to enforce lockdown. Tow barges moving to lock it into drydock. Please advise on the nature of First Contact?" The radio operator asked.

"First contact is non-hostile but we have communication issues. Send a linguistics team as well... This language is... Weird." I said.

"Solid copy, will advise. Echo base out."

I shrugged my shoulders and read through the data I was given. And I noticed a pattern. A very... Odd pattern. "Hmm... this is an A... that's a K... That looks like a V? Looks... strangely familiar. Why?" I said. I moved around and got a pen and paper. Everyone ignored me and I started to scribble a note.

"Fifteen seconds on the Elven lands. Then we move north at five feet per minute with low rainfall for fifteen minutes, from the Shire to Mordor. Light and gentle." The guy in the harness said, probably to himself to help him concentrate.

I finished scribbling and looked at it. "Okay... lets give this a shot then." I said and walked over to the Castle where I could see the tiny Elven King taking a rest.

"Hej, bracie, znajdziesz chwilkę?" (Hey Brother, can you spare a short moment?)

The tiny elven King shot up from his seat like a bolt of lightning and paid close attention. He aimed his finger at his throat, and spoke. He matched the volume of my voice. Must be magic. "Ależ oczywiście, o wielki wędrowcze – jakie jest twe życzenie?" (But of course oh giant traveller, what be thy wish?) He replied. He actually spoke back! He understood!

Everyone around me was suddenly paying attention to me. He spoke Polish! At least a very... strange rendition of it. It's almost as if someone took Shakespeare's messy gabbles and translated them to Polish... including a lot of slang. This was... Damn weird. Extra Ls’ some misplaced K’s and some very strange phrases here and there.

"Chciałbym tylko zapytać – powiedzże mi – jak to się stało, że znalazłeś się w tym miejscu?" (I just wanted to ask, pray tell, how did you come to be within this place?) I asked.

"Wkroczyliśmy, gdy twoja załoga spała, I przedarliśmy się przez wielkie, kwadratowe korytarze. Znaleźliśmy wspaniały dom!" (We entered while thine crew slumbered and made home through the great square corridors. A fine home we have found!) He said.

"Och. Cóż, dzięki za informację. Przepraszam, że zakłóciłem twój spokój." (Oh. Well thanks for the information. Sorry to interrupt thy restfulness.) I replied.

"To nie szkodzi, wielki olbrzymie – przemawiaj do nas, kiedy tylko zechcesz. Pragniemy lepiej poznać naszych sąsiadów, by nie ściągnąć na siebie gniewu tych potężnych dział." (It matters not giant one, speak to us at any time you wish. We wish to know better our neighbours so as to not entertain the wrath of those mighty cannons.) He said, and i could tell he was genuine, our guns must scare these dudes.

"Spokojnie, stary, zajmiemy się tym. Wybacz mi proszę – nadchodzą prawdziwi dyplomaci, a ja potrzebuję piwa." (Don't worry bro, we got you. Please excuse me. Real diplomats are coming, and I need beer.) I said and gave him a mock salute.

He saluted back in the same fashion and raised a glass of whatever he was holding in response. Everyone glared at me for answers. I ignored them, walked to a nearby mini-bar and chugged a can of light beer. Eventually I sat down and caught my breath.

"Okay, by a coincidence of biblical proportions, it would appear not only are they tiny magical space elves, they are tiny Polish magical space elves. They speak Polska, or at least a very esoteric version of it like someone combined Shakespearean poetry with gangster slang, translated it into Polska and then used it as a baseline. It's... It's VERY hard to get the... cadence correct, especially with the accents but, I think I got the gist of it. The Diplomatic team can sort the rest out." I said.

"How the hell did they get in? Did you ask?" The Captain asked.

"Checking the exterior cameras you appear to have a damaged access hatch on the port side near Bay 12. They probably pried it open and used the ventilation shafts to get in before the system sealed off the breach." I said.

"So... how do we explain to them this is a starship's cargo hold?" the Captain asked.

"The hell are you asking me for? I'm a duty officer, not a scholar or diplomat." Do you have a ship model? maybe I can show them or something. Hell I don't know, I'm not trained for this!" I said with an exhausted sigh.

Blythe wandered away to a nearby cargo crate and rummaged through it. He returned, carrying a large scale model of one of the Federations battlecruisers, a Chimera Class. One of the nastier versions of the warships we had on station. I approached the king and grabbed his attention. I won't waste your time or offend you with the translation this time, it went roughly like this:

King - "What be thy wish fair Giant?"

Me - "Do you know where you are?"

King - "Uh... Not... entirely. I surmise from size and location we have entered one of your worldly constructs. Why do thy ask?"

Me - "You are inside the cargo hold of a ship. A big ship. Like this. Not this one, but a ship. A space ship. In space."

King - "For truth!? But... the sun, the warmth, the nights and days! Longer they are to be certain from whence we came but... Surely not!"

Me - "'Fraid so bro. You are very much in a starship in space, on board one of our cargo freighters. Where the hell did you even come from? How did you get here?"

King - "Alas is but a sad tale my brother. Lost was our home, many moons ago, we sought refuge in crafted bunkers made by mages and artificers when it was certain our world was doomed. So many lost, but we remain. We have no way to know for how long we drifted the skies after the Mages sent us upwards to join the birds, we remained in deep slumber for all that time. We woke up, we found ourselves hence, and... knowing not where or why, we simply began rebuilding again. I must apologize on behalf of my people for our intrusion here."

Me - Pish-pashaw nonsense! Don't apologise! We are human. We have this habit of helping people who need it, but you can't stay here. This is a ship's cargo hold, not a world or home. You have no idea how hard it is keeping you in here."

King - "I see. I was hoping it would not come to this. We have worked so hard to make this place our home. My people will leave but... they shall do so reluctantly. This place is just so... beautifully made! Such so we believe it crafted and ordained for us. I just wish..."

Me - "Wish granted. This thing is a lot simpler than you think. We are the Terran Confederacy, we are an empire of a thousand worlds spread across the stars. Finding you a new home and getting you there without effort will be a paltry task, at worst. Worry not bro. We got you."

King - "For certain? Oh what bliss and joy this is! Deliverance!"

Me - "Maybe God did bring you here, who really knows? But anyway, someone will be coming to talk to you in a few minutes. I'm no diplomat, I'm a soldier. And I have limits, but don't you worry. We humans have this interesting habit where we will literally move mountains to make others happy. Some would say to our detriment. You are safe here for now and we will very likely see the end of your crisis before evensong. For now, Welcome home bro."

King - "Home indeed oh friend, home indeed!"

The King raised a glass at me and I nodded in response.

The Captain looked at me and cleared his throat. "SO... uhhh… Now what? I mean... my ship..."

I grabbed my beer can and finished it off. "I hereby accept your bribe of good piwo and pleasant conversation kurwa. Diplomatic crews will take this from here. As soon as they are out of the hold and in Federation hands, you are free to leave the station. In exchange, please don't tell anyone about this until we know what we are dealing with." I said.

"I... Agree with that assessment... but I need a beer bribe too." The Admiral said.

I handed him a can of light beer and stood aside waiting.

"Oop… Looks like the Ents are moving towards Isengard again. Must be Leg day." the guy in the harness said.

Sure enough, I walked over and saw them. Trees. Tiny trees, but trees, slowly crawling across the ground, an entire section of the forest near the model of Isengard shuffling towards the city.

"You gotta be kidding me..." I said and helped myself to chug another beer.

"Great days and Glorious Victory! My name is Spifflemonk and welcome to Timberborn! I needed a break from New Vegas and... all the corpses, so I have decided to play this management and building simulation game I found on the steam store while browsing. Apparently it's very, very good! So, with that, let's see what humans consider 'management' games then... if it's anything like Factorio I have a feeling I'm going to be here a while. Obligatory disclaimer, this is NOT the remastered version that was recently released, this is the old version I have modded to make it work... Because this was cheap as dirt and I am currently drowning in administration costs for my new job. Don't worry, I will be fine in a week or two, it's just a formality. And also this thing is 200 years old and doesn't have the community that New Vegas does so... yeah."

Spiff starts up the game and immediately he has to stop and reach down to retrieve his comically large eyebrows and put them on.

"What... Are these creatures then? Four legs, four paws... Large teeth? Hmmm... What's with the tails!? Okay... This does not bode well for this playthrough, I have to do some research to find out what something is before I even start the game. Please hold."

A short fan animation plays of Spiffle stepping on Lego, before the screen returns.

"SO they're these things called 'Beavers' and apparently they are mammals that make dams in rivers out of wood debris. That's the short version anyway... Why is Earth so hideously biodiverse? So much stuff on one little planet. Anyway, let's begin!"

Spiff starts the game up, acknowledges the various mods listed, most of which are quality of life or extra information. He chooses Folktails and clicks on a random map named Beaverome - which was a mistake - and starts the game on Easy mode. He loads into the game and names his settlement 'The Spiffled Beavers' and starts up, pausing immediately.

"Right, let's see what this all is about. Apparently this is a game about wood crafting, wood buildings and wood... things, where you need to control water flow and water things to create a city. I have taken some settings from a friend, thank you by the way, to play this game without... Too many crashes. Hopefully. Let's see... Seven massive craters full of water. And... red water? Blue water. It seems pretty... Straightforward actually."

He sets up the basics, water pumps, water storage, flags for berry picking and tree cutting, a science facility or basic science production and then sets all the storage filters. It's clear Spiff made the smart choice of actually doing the tutorial and then looks around the map.

"This... looks a LOT more complicated than the one I did the tutorial on. Huge open spaces, lots of water... everywhere and very limited building space. I think... in order to make this work I have to find a way to drain the craters and fill them in with... something. Didn't know I was going to do terraforming in this game but, I'm up for the challenge. I think."

He plays as normal for a bit longer and he seems to have locked in to the game, his expression one of pure concentration as he plans out his strangely shaped town. He stays completely quiet for a few minutes until the first two days have passed.

"Alright then... The beavers have a wellness score thing... No idea what it does but it's a good idea to keep it high. SO Rooftop Terraces and campfire spot. I have to put down some grinding wheels to help with chipped teeth. That must hurt. So now what do I do? Hm... lets look at the options. So obviously there is an endgame to this thing. Is there an Aqueduct system to this maybe? I wonder if I can actually build one. Probably can. Water after all... With terraforming. Hmmm..."

The cycles reach to Day 7 and eventually the viewer notices there's something... off. Yields for wood are very high and the stack in the log storage is reaching seventy stories into the sky. Clearly there are some stack and storage settings at play here, but Spiff seems unphased. He builds storage for a farm, and a grill for potatoes, and waits for his science production to get high enough reaching Wellness level 5 before the first week is over. All in all a good start. He spends the next few minutes in silence just reading text and checking things out as he explores menus, clicks on random buttons and explores structures and things.

"Okay then, so this is NOWHERE near as complex as Factorio. Nowhere near, very simple. I have a feeling I shall fail... Horribly at this eventually but, lets see what we can do with what we have before we actually look at a different map. I do like the look of this game though. The wood is... nice."

It is around Day 10 when the first mod system shows itself - the Blueprint relic - and a node appears nearby. In exchange for resources, his beavers can get an injection of science for use. He has to awkwardly spend some science to unlock stairs and path a way up to it.

"Hmm... Didn't see this in the tutorial. Must be one of the mods. Day ten and seems everything is going fine. I think... Hmm... Maybe I should see what it would take to expand into the big crater with the blue water. Might just make a huge big city on the lake! That sounds fun actually. I'll do that. There is a first thing I have to do though. I see this lake full of red water here. If I recall correctly about humans, red equals bad. Or something. So maybe I need to redirect that water somewhere else.

Spiff starts off building a platform with wooden platforms and decides to stop after a while, instead building a bridge into the middle of the crater for some water pumps and storage.

"After a bit of a build... It's uhh… Gonna be expensive. Very. Need to stockpile planks and such. I will do this eventually though. I did however manage to fix that up there though, build Levee's to block that bit off. The water is still red... I wonder if filtration is a mechanic in this game. How long is that going to be like that?"

A few more days pass and the bridge is finally done, and Spiffs water supply is effectively resolved permanently due to the placement. He carries on in silence, looking at charts and graphs, and on day 17 the first Drought appears.

"Drought? What's a drought? I guess we will find out. I wonder if this 'drought' thing is common on Earth. Maybe that's a reason they put it in. A tip for non-human viewers, if you see something in a human videogame or movie - it probably happened, somewhere, sometime, some way, either in a nightmare, or in reality. Humans are... Silly."

Just as the first drought cycle starts, he scores Wellness level 10 and opens the screen. the list of stuff needed is extensive. And the resources needed to get some of this stuff is quite vast.

"So much for simple... Maybe this has a bit more than I thought. How do I get pine resin?"

The drought hits and shortly after nothing really happens.

"Hmmm... Might be too early. I am on easy after all but I don't see much. Oh, I see, I click on these things and it shows me what they are 'Disabled during drought' so these are where the water comes from and they don't work while there's a drought? Okay then. Guess it's a good thing I built those water pumps right there in the middle. Won't need to worry about water... Ever, I guess."

Spiff continues playing for a bit longer, seemingly so locked in he forgets he is recording and starts randomly searching up things about beavers and dams on an alternate screen. The game plays on, eventually getting to the next drought, which also does next to nothing in terms of damage or action. Spiff has stockpiled enough stuff and starts to build his platform more. He eventually figures out where to get Pine Resin and builds an Observatory for more science production, then starts to explore some options for power generation. He spends a bit more science than he needs and then builds the first Geothermal power generator, and connects a gear workshop and a few sawmills to it to amp up production.

"Hmmm... The ratio is two sawmills to one gear workshop so if I build four sawmills then... hmmm..."

Spiff carries on, occasionally saying something odd about this or that, and eventually gets to the point where he is introduced to the concept of metalworking. Shortly after he gets his first scavenger flags going, then the dynamite factory. He starts the arduous process of demolishing various spots around the map to block off and seal the Badwater sources, and drain Badwater from one of the craters to access a mine for more metal. After a lot of silliness and two more droughts, Spiff acquires enough resources to completely drain the crater for the mine. He blocks up the crater again and uses some excess dynamite to flatten some bits for planning and starts building up a small city in the crater.

Francine sees where this is going and starts a montage. Again, spiff says almost nothing as he's very much locked in like nobody has seen him be locked in before, showing about four hours of gameplay in the space of about five minutes, a fast montage of a small circular city built up inside of a crater. Eventually he actually speaks again, the montage ending.

"I think... I think this isn't very exciting for the viewers. I very much love games like this but its not so... Fun to watch I suppose. I will make an end goal of building two monuments, and leave it there, play this alone some time. Let's build the first one on top of the city... which one... Hmm... The Brazier. That seems... Monumental. Wow... Four hundred planks worth of monument... I need to stockpile that a bit."

Francine starts the goofy music again and a fifteen minute montage of gameplay follows, and Spiff manages to get one of the monuments built. And then, a Badtide warning arrives.

"Badtide? That's... Not nice. It's bad in fact. Says so right in the title. Hmm... I need to stockpile water I guess. Well I don't, I have twenty barrels of it. That's a lot of water. We should be good."

Gameplay continues for a bit longer and the Badtide hits. Unfortunately due to Spiffs mod selection the Badtides are very much more dangerous than in vanilla, and they cause a huge surge in water level. Badtide water floods over the banks of each crater, all the water sources flood their respective areas and Spiffs waterworks fail to stem the tide, to an extent that by the time it's over, his newly built crater city is completely flooded again.

"OH BOLLOCKING DAMN AND JUMBO BUGGERS!!! How was I supposed to know THAT would happen!? My city! It flooded with the nasty red stuff! Now what? Unwell? What does that mean?"

The spiral begins and his now 200 population, all of which he moved over to new housing in the crater, gets horrendously sick from Badtide contamination. The food stocks plummet, beavers start dying because there's nobody to care for them, he has no antidote and by the time the floodwaters are gone, it's too late. On day 8, Cycle 6, the last beaver dies from starvation because he's too sick to get up, and spiff gets hit by the game over screen and then kicked back to the main menu. Something goes wrong, a mod fails or something, and the game crashes back to the desktop.

Spiff sits there in stunned silence for a few minutes with his jaw open.

"That... that escalated in a rapid fashion... I mean... Holy crap! I was fine and then just... DEATH. That was on EASY! What would hard mode be like... By all the Gods..."

He stays quiet, jaw on floor, that signature death glare staring at the screen.

"Well... Still. Maybe too long form and too 'relaxing' for my viewers. Especially these crazy lunatics. Though that ending was something. Maybe I can do games like this on these things called 'livestreams' although I do not think my present connection can tolerate it. Maybe something for the future perhaps. In any case, thank you for watching and I will... Try not to kill all my beavers next time. Good lord..."

Spiffles outro music plays, this time overlayed with a top-down montage of the settlement from day one, showing how he had a pretty good grasp of how the game worked before he got slapped with a dose of difficulty.

TOP COMMENT: Hey Spiff, you think they have any Wood Nuts?

Spiffs reply: I don't know... Why would you want a wood nut?

Reply: I dunno. I wonder do they have Wood Liquor boxes in their huts? They seem to enjoy Wood rams, especially from behind, they are beavers after all.

Spiffs reply: What???

Reply: I mean there are maps available for this game for full ocean, there's a Seablock map. I wonder if they have boats. they could have Wood chests covered with Sea Men.

Spiffs reply: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?

Reply: I mean I wood nut if I had a settlement that big, never got that far before with this game. I have a wood explorer trunk in my house though. Do you think they have wood models in those huts? I have a wood destroyer.

Spiffs reply: ….. Why do I feel like I'm being mocked....

Reply: I mean obviously its all wood stuff, until you get to metal of course but there must be Wood Ploughs and wood nuts, right? Do you think you'd have a wood nut in cider there?"

Spiffs reply: Hold on a moment... I need to see something.

EDIT: ABSOLUTE BASTARD.

Reply: That was as MANY wood-based nut jokes as I could fit in there, that's useful for some other games you might play Spiff!

Spiffs Reply: You DISGUST me.

Reply: We know. And its funny. Its REALLY funny!

I stood before the Council, my willpower being the only thing that kept my emotions in check. I wasn't about to be the only one doing this however. I shuffled uncomfortably at my podium and cleared my throat to start my speech. I was not used to this. I was an accountant not a politician or public speaker. I was not used to so many eyes on me at once. But I had something to say. Something important. They needed to hear this.

"Great Council, my name is Thraxx Thrann'Tarr, Clan Ulum, Monetary Advisor with the Kadaskanii Imperium. I believe the galaxy at large is strangely ignorant of this information, as a consequence I am here to bring this to full public awareness. And it is far more serious than even I originally thought. And it is to do with the Galaxy's newest denizens, the Terrans." I said.

A collective echo of varied responses resonated through the Council Chambers. Anger, confusion, boredom, greed. This was a sign we all knew them by now, and had varied results with each time we spoke to them. As expected. I waited for the groan to stop and resumed my speech, undaunted.

"We all know them by now in some capacity at least, and that's... A good thing. But there is something amiss. I have... I had a human in my company over the last five Cycles that I thought of as a friend. A friend I have... recently lost." I said and sniffled a bit to hold back a tear. "There is something deeply amiss with the state of our present reality. We have only known the Terrans for five cycles. That's... Astonishingly fast considering the incredible things they have accomplished in their time. They have one of the largest fleets in the galaxy, one of the most robust economies in finance. One of the most innovative tech research systems in the galaxy. So many things, accomplished in record time. They single-handedly ended the Rakanii Infestation War within half a cycle! That alone is worthy of recognition if nothing else." I said.

The Council stayed quiet for a moment, and a reluctant but overwhelming nod of agreement resonated through the chamber with grunts and whistles from various members.

"I am sure many members of the Council have... some issues with humans. I mean... it's hard not to. They almost caused a Galactic market crash due to their industrial capabilities. They flooded the market with so much cheap but still reliable goods they almost caused half the companies in the market to fail!" I said.

The council, especially the Corporate Sector delegates yelled in frustration in response.

"What was their response?" I asked. The Council stopped their yelling and realized how their anger was misplaced. "That is correct. They realized how fragile the Galactic Economy was, paid reparations for the economic damages and even discontinued competing products, allowing us to catch up with the market demand allowing the economy to stabilize. They did what any of us would do - try to get rich. But then they did what none of us would ever do - not get rich at everyone else's expense." I said.

The Council - especially the Traders Guild and Corporate sector delegates - shared glances of guilt and anger between grumbles.

"It is because of that action we realized just how fragile and easily exploited the Galactic Economy was, and just how bad it could get. And that is precisely why we now enjoy the finest boon of economic progress in our ten thousand cycle history. A lesson was learned, and nobody failed as that lesson was taught. I consider that a victory if nothing else." I remarked, giving the Corporate Sector delegates a sly grin.

I received a grumble of agreement and acceptance.

"Now we come to the state of the galactic military. It has NEVER been more powerful now, than it has been in ten thousand cycles. This is due to humanity's logistics network. HALF of the Federations warships and military fleets, are kept functioning almost exclusively by Terran Logistics and Maintenance personnel. Their stations, drydocks and mega-shipyards are directly responsible for the final end to the Rakanii infestation War! Without them, we would still be fighting that wretched menace."

The council grumbled in agreement and disapproval, the military admirals shaking their heads, the politicians and economists nodding in approval.

"Regardless of our tactical prowess, we have to remember, if the ships aren't repaired and maintained, there is no fleet to fight. Without their backs, we would be nowhere. Certainly, we stayed the course for many Cycles, but they were the fulcrum that turned the tide in our favour. Operations that once took Cycles to complete, now barely took a tenth of that time. Because of their speed, their resilience, and even their own sacrifices when they sent their warship fleets alongside ours... So many people are still here today instead of being cast into the fires of war."

The council silently nodded in agreement. I was breaking them down, they were becoming more complacent.

"We all know one such individual that we all treasure. Raxus'Tarakk of the Imbakani. The Soul of The Segmentum Arm. He himself said that if the Terrans hadn't ended the war as they did, if he hadn't been rescued from that battlefield by Terrans sacrifice and efforts, he would not be here today! We all know his contributions to the art world. We have all heard his song 'Big Annie's Big Gun'."

A moment of silent thought crossed the Council. One Councilman spoke up and melodically sang one of the most famous verses from the song in question. "Big Annie, roar for me. Big Annie, thunder and glee. Let the mushroom rise, oh let the cloud reach the skies. Big Annie's Big Gun, please Big Annie make them run."

I nodded with a smile. "We all know what they did. Which brings me to my next point. We are all terrified of humanity's military arsenal. And it was that very arsenal that finally put the Rakanii Hive Mind to its death throes. We all fear their weapons. We all fear their martial prowess. I am sure that many of the Delegates here, especially the military masters, have some vendetta with humanity in some way, either by accident, deliberate action, or many other motivations, you have some form of anger towards the Terran Military."

The council grumbled a bit, and others yelled in anger, some even bloviating their mastery. I let them stew on my words for a moment, letting the Grandmaster calm them down.

"Yes it is true. Their ships outnumber ours fifty to one. Their weapons outclass ours two to one. And their armies outnumber our standing forces, two hundred to one. And I am certain everyone is aware of, and disgusted by their abomination super-soldiers, the Legionnaires. And yet... Can we really say that we entirely despise them? Was it not after all, that very same military force that led the charge against the Hive - and nearly two million Terran soldiers gave their lives in that fateful final battle?" I said, glaring at the military class.

The soldiers and admiralty among the council shuffled uncomfortably. One such soldier, an Admiral from the Saranai Imperium, pressed a button on his console and showed a picture from the now famous artist and ex soldier Praxus Praxx we all knew. It was entitled 'Gravestone Orchard'. It angered some for reminding them, it made others remove their hats or draw their weapons and salute out of respect.

I bowed my head out of respect for a few moments and continued. "And so Council, I will not waste time by explaining Humanity's great feats. We all know them far too well by now. We all know how far we have come because of them, and in so short a time no less." I said, gaining a nod of approval from all present. "And so... I come here today to explain why it has been such a short time. Two Cycles... only two Galactic Cycles since they have been here. I need to ask this Council a question: What in Cycles is the average lifespan for a Council member before Entropy takes hold?"

I asked a very pointed, very rarely asked question. It was an uncomfortable question. I saw several delegates shuffle uncomfortably.

"One hundred and fifty Cycles, with no medical care and no serious advancements, a Denizen of the galaxy based solely on Cycles and without individual racial considerations, the average time is around there. With care and considerations, meaning proper care, diet and such, the average lifespan is around three to four hundred." One Delegate responded very matter-of-factly.

"Thank you Councilman Umann. Now... What is the average lifespan of a Terran?" I asked.

Everyone didn't know the answer to this question. I saw shared glances, heard whispered conversations, references to articles and hearsay, but no actual answer.

"I shall tell you... The average human lifespan is: Ten Cycles. With proper considerations, MAYBE, eleven at best." I said.

The council's faces all went pale and grey at that revelation. And many minutes were spent in absolute silence as they considered the concept. I eventually carried on.

"I am here to deliver news that is so devastating... I have spent the last few weeks simply trying to process it myself. The galaxy as a whole works on a time scale so vast that it barely registers a single human lifetime. We, the Federation, are gifted with so much time, we can't help but take it for granted. I am one hundred and fifty eight cycles of age thus far. Let us assume for ease of math, that one human lifetime equates to ten cycles... This means that one Galactic Cycle is equal to twenty five human cycles. A human can be born and achieve full adulthood, within the amount of time it takes the rest of us to finish our first years of schooling. We move at an extremely slow pace compared to them." I said, barely holding back my tears.

The Council remained silent.

I composed myself and carried on. "This is the reason behind humanity's speed and capabilities Council. It's not how they operate. It's how they LIVE. It's how they exist. The economy wasn't actually overwhelmed... Their industries just moved too fast for us to compensate. Their ships are not fast because of their technology - it's because of how they think. Their entire existence, in comparison to the rest of us, is so short that any one of us can know an entire human family lineage in the span of one third of our own lives. That's why council, they seem to always be in such a hurry. It's why they move so fast, it's why they talk so fast. It's why they seem to react so fast. Their speed is not a matter of societal implications or impatience - it's how they live.

"This is why I came to you today. We all know what it feels like to lose someone we know. Someone we treasure. We know what it feels like to not see the face of a loved one smile again. We've been through wars, family clashes. Even the dreaded Plague that hit us fifty cycles ago. We all know. So much knowledge, wisdom, experience. So much time and effort, gone. So much potential, so much possibility, gone. Precious moments forever lost, the very meaning of why we stand here and fight against Entropy itself, gone, to be eventually forgotten to the mists of time. The only thing holding that misery back, is the fact you remember them. The only thing keeping them from Eternity's grasp, is the fact you can still see the smile when you think of those memories.

"For humans it is much the same but on a scale of time so vast, at least to them, that one generation is all it takes to be lost to that Entropic grasp. Every one of us will live long enough to see Human civilization rise and fall a dozen times over. Every one of us will likely live to see the species itself succumb to the ravages of genetic drift and fade away. Every one of us here will live to see humanity fall. Every one of us will outlive the entire species. I know this for a fact... I have outlived, by virtue of simply working at my local firm which employs human technicians to service our computation systems, no fewer than THREE generations of humans. Every third of a cycle, a new man was added to the roster. AT first I thought it was just corporate turnaround... No... it was how they lived. So much time passed for them... We must move so slowly to them. Is it a form of time dilation? Who is really to know?

"But all I can say Council is this: I have gained, and lost, three friends, whose accomplishments, grit and prowess will be forgotten by their own families within the next two cycles. Not out of concern, but simply because everyone who knew them, will likewise be gone and wont be able to tell the story. genius of unprecedented quality, madness of unimaginable scale. Works of art and engineering so innovative it redefines an industry. Military prowess of unmatched skill... All cruelly given to a race of such short lifespan it is difficult to fathom. They are aware of this. Oh they are very aware. if nothing else... they seem to be obsessed with their own mortality to an absurd degree."

I let the council understand. Giving them a few moments to think about it.

"However... they seem undaunted. They smile at the sun every day they wake. They live the same lives the rest of us do, just with a vastly different time scale. They learn, they live, they laugh. Just like us all. If nothing else, they seem to have more fun than any of us will ever have, outright taunting Death itself or even outright ignoring it. Most even mock it, or obsess over it. They make simulations in which they play with the concept. They write stories that even celebrate it as a victory or taunt the Gods themselves. They create art that can withstand them, or even laugh at art that they themselves will outlive. They make music that is designed to cheat death. Many of them, make it a personal life's goal to actively taunt death, mocking the very idea of Entropy by challenging the universe itself in feats of daring or inventions of technology.

I let the Council ruminate for a few moments. "For now Council, I close my speech by saying this:

"Hold your human friends as close as you can, for if you blink for too long, they will not be there any more. Do not hold to vendetta or rivalry, for by the time you have filed the paperwork to enact it, the target of your ire has already passed on. Whatever moments you have with a human that you call 'friend' treasure them with all your soul for those moments will not last long. Find a lover among humans, and you will find a family waiting for you for generations to come. I challenge this Council and all those listening to this broadcast to challenge Entropy itself and remember humanity for what it is, for what it was, and what it will be. I challenge you to never forget their lives. I wish for us to be the bulwark against the fires of eternal mist, and be the memory that keeps them alive!

"Never forget their names, never forget their smiles. We who live dozens of their lifetimes, can withstand the test of time, we can outlive the fires of eternity and keep their memories alive a hundred times over. We can see to it they remain immortal solely by our need to remember the best times we had with them. Eventually humanity will catch up to us, eventually they will gain a lifespan that may rival ours, who knows what the future will bring? Their families will forget them. photographs will fade, albums lost, the fires of Entropy will claim them, their memories will fade and they will be gone forever. WE can stop that from happening. We can ensure their sacrifices are NEVER forgotten, no matter how small. I call upon the galaxy at large to do this one simple thing: Treasure your time with a human. They will forget. You will NOT. And that fact alone, protects the greatness that is Mankind. Same as with us all. So long as we are remembered: Death is meaningless."

I stood back from my podium and sat down, reaching into a pocket to fetch something important. A picture of one of my co-workers, Jerry and his new grandson. Jerry was grey haired, long bearded and a walking cane leaned against his chair. Despite everything, they just kept going, kept fighting, kept living, their very existence a defiance of the law of Entropy. The living embodiment of the fight against death itself, against the laws of the universe. The very creatures we as a galaxy now counted on.

I remember you Jerry. We all will. You won't be lost to the mists of time, you won't be cast aside. We will win this fight even if you aren't around to thank us. We will owe you much in the future. We will remember. I set the photograph down on the console in front of me and my composure finally failed. As tears began to roll from my eyes I spoke one more time.

"I wont forget that fishing technique you taught me. I wont forget how you showed me the way the servers worked during that hotfix you did. I won't forget how you made that secret burger sauce. I won't forget how you did that thing with the cables that made the computers stop overheating. I won't forget you Jerry. No matter how small you think it was, or how big you think it was, it was important. It changed something for the better. I won't forget."

And that's a promise.

I double checked the manifests and damage reports. That ion storm we passed through did a lot more damage than I thought. A lot more. Starboard thrusters were misfiring, aft deck oxygen generators were disabled, forward battery turret had its motors fried and by some miracle the power surge didn't cause the magazine to explode. A few other things, minor, but there was no way to avoid it. We would be in the drydock for several days for repairs. I swatted my long coat away from my eyes. I needed a trim again. God damn trims... They're getting to be every fifth month now.

"Contact from local military authority sir. Two battlecruiser class vessels on intercept. I have deployed an emergency signal. Ident computer shows this system belongs to the... Jovian Royal Navy, apparently." My ensign said.

"JRN? That's a Terran fleet signature. We must be on one of their fringe systems. Maintain course and keep slow so the engineering crews can work to get the starboard thruster back online." I Commanded.

"Terrans? Those the new ones the Council spoke about before we left?" A gunnery sergeant asked.

I sighed in annoyance and moved my fringe out of my eyes for the umpteenth time. "Yes indeed they are. We have made First Contact but it was too chaotic, I'm fairly certain we will need to be reintroduced. Don't worry, Master Mc'Callum'Olk is here as a guest."

My train of thought derailed as two Terran warships suddenly appeared in front of us. Damn things... the reports about them were all too right. Ships twice the size of the Galactic average, with heavier armament and shields than most flagships. These two were actually recon destroyers... I didn't have the heart to tell my crew these were the SMALL ones. A voice came over the radio and barked at us.

"Unidentified Vatarian vessel, you are in the sovereign territory of the Jovian Royal Navy. Identify yourself immediately."

"Yes, hello humans, good to see you too. This is the Galactic Commerce Guild Vessel 'Storm of The North', my name is Vatakk'Tul of Clan Ulk. Sorry to be a bother but we are a courier ship, we got knocked off course during an ion storm. We've got some damage, would you mind giving us a tow? Our starboard thrusters are gone." I replied with more calm than I knew I had.

"Stand by for Commerce Guild Verification please." A robotic sounding voice replied.

"No problem. We aren't going anywhere soon. Not safely at least." I remarked casually.

"Hell of a nice ship. Pity about the scorch marks. Ident verified, you are clear to proceed, please shut down all engines and recall crew indoors, retrieval team is on the way. I think we have some spares on hand, if not I'm sure we can find some way to fix it. Push comes to shove we'll just stick you in a logi cruiser and tow you back home. Welcome to Elysium." The voice replied.

"Thank you very much. It wouldn't be meal time in this system would it?" The Ensign replied with a smirk.

"Near lunch, come on board the station. I'm sure there's something we can serve that won't cause anaphylactic shock somewhere. Epi-pens on stand by." he said, receiving a chuckle from myself and the crew as we all joked about the time we discovered Councillor Tahakk'Lor was allergic to the substance known as 'apple juice'. "Ship is incoming on station for tow, welcome aboard."

"Copy that and thank you." I said. I then pressed my intercom button and spoke to my crew. "Okay everyone, take a break and get ready for shore leave. We are stopping at the human station for repairs, all engineers come back from EVA and get ready for security screen. Oh, and would someone please check our cargo bays and make sure those Tablets we were transporting weren't fried too." I ordered.

A HUGE ship, twice the size of the ships that responded appeared, shaped like a gigantic 'U' with engines, with the majority of the things mass taken by what appeared to be a drydock saturated in tools and equipment. It truly terrified me that ships could get this goddamn massive, and these farking things were still only local ships from one of many factions. A crew of dozens of humans in suits, mechs and piloted small craft swarmed the ship and expertly latched onto us, dragging us into their tractor cable net.

"This is Lanyard, cargo secured, moving to station grid two-two-six, bay forty seven. Running diagnostic scans and requesting damage reports from the local system. Waiting for verification. Out." A new radio voice said.

The ensign looked up at me, pointing at her console. I walked over, looked, and nodded for a go ahead. We were almost thrown out of our chairs and me off my feet as the absurd behemoth of a ship moved at a speed far too fast for a vessel of any size and scope let alone this one. By the time we got used to the acceleration from the sublight engines, we could already see the station.

"Pardon me but you have better equipment than we do. Anything to say about the damage?" I asked the radio.

"Dampeners at minimum, coming in hot. Ion damage, twenty percent of electrical systems fried, AI core offline due to emergency shutdown. Starboard thruster fuel pipe exploded, minor damage to defence systems and... Not as bad as it looks to be honest. Gonna be a complex repair though, lots of internals to fix up. Sorry to say but it's a two day job minimum. It's not as bad as it looks, but it's still pretty bad." The reply came as we were gently moved into a drydock slot.

Again, these humans and their massive ships, this damned thing was large enough to hold ten of my ships at once. I just shook my head.

"Local docking arms have us locked down... they've taken admin control of the ship and... locked in. We're theirs until repairs are done I guess." Ensign said with a sigh.

"Humans are not Stakaii so don't worry yourselves. I have paperwork to do so... Dammit." I sighed and once again moved tufts from my eyes. It was getting unruly now. "Paperwork so we can do this properly, so until repairs are complete, do let yourselves be known and enjoy your stay. As far as reports tell me, humans are, regardless of their factional allegiance, more than welcoming to non-humans so we should have a good few days. All crews dismissed, make sure you carry your ID badges everywhere and don't do anything to make me court marshal you. Engineering crew you can leave if you want, but I would prefer you stay here and help with repairs. Dismissed." I said into the comms.

My ship shut itself down and I walked out, gathering the necessities and wandered into the station. I walked onto the dock and took a look at the ship, and indeed, it looked pretty bad. Parts of the hull blew out where cables were buried under the plating, the starboard engine blew out in three places from a burst fuel pipe and some parts of the shield array scorched to oblivion. I shoved tufts of hair out of my eyes and turned around, only to be faced with a rather important looking human (two feet smaller than me, gods these things were adorably tiny) and one that was maybe an inch shorter than me. Must be one of those 'Legionnaires' I kept hearing about from reports.

"Captain Vatakk?" The small one asked.

"Yes, hello. Who might you be?" I asked, frustratingly shoving parts of my coat out of my face.

"Alien space sasquatch?" The Legionnaire asked, seemingly involuntarily.

"Cut it Sergeant." The small one barked. "My name is Captain Williams, I'm the officer in charge of the station at the moment, Lord Admiral Vess won't be on station for a few days. I am here on his behalf, I need you to look at some documents before I let you go please." He said, and handed me some papers.

"Oh, certainly. You are... very short." I said. I caught myself and apologised profusely to a chorus of giggles from nearby dock workers.

I read through and my eyes bulged from their sockets. Well they would have, had they not got caught in my damn face again. I brushed them aside and signed a few documents I thought were pertinent and handed the rest back to him. He looked over everything and extended a hand. I brushed hair out of my face and shook it in turn.

"What does.... Alien Space Sasquatch mean?" I asked.

"Your species resembles a race of mythical creatures we once believed roamed our homeworld many millennia ago. Except the... six eyes and green coat." he replied with a cautious shrug.

I shoved a tuft of hair out of my face again and smiled, at least as far as our many-toothed mouths can smile without terrifying everyone. "Ah I see. Might need to check these records then, maybe he was a lost uncle or something." I replied with a chuckle.

The humans laughed. "Welcome to Elysium. We have almost everything here, it's a heavy commercial hub for the region. Just... be careful what you buy, some of this ain't legal by galactic standards. If you know what I mean."

"Understood." I replied in earnest, trying to not be too annoyed by the tufts that kept obscuring my vision.

"By the way, if you want to get rid of that fringe, Marco's place is open. He can sort you out." The Legionnaire said and walked away.

"Marco's Place?" I asked.

"Barbershop. Professional groomers for hair and such, among other things. Should help get rid of that fringe at least." Williams replied.

"You have those? That's something I didn't know. Hmm... Do they take our kind as clients or is this just a human thing?" I asked.

"No idea but Marco, the place's owner, is the kind of guy who likes to rise to a challenge. Don't mind his personality either. Flamboyant he may be, but I don't know a better barber. Not in this system anyway. See you later, I'll contact you on the station's PA system if I have any updates." He said and saluted me, then walked away to go speak to the engineering crew.

I wandered into the station and found something called frozen yoghurt and Hotdogs. As well as these funny picture books (that I have recently become highly addicted to) called Manga. I spent a few hours milling about, glaring back at the gawking, tiny humans around me as I trudged through the station. Eventually, I got more annoyed than necessary at the damn fluff that kept getting in my way, and resolved myself to go to the barber. I found it, eventually and wandered into the door.

A tiny bell rang above me, signalling my entry to the shopkeeper. I received a shocked gasp of 'Holy shit!', likely from the steward on duty. I simply smiled and sat in the abnormally small chair. I looked at the woman next to me. Oddly adorable creatures but such... flatness in their hair. So few tufts everywhere. I really wondered how the species tolerated the coldness of space. We could withstand sub-zero temperatures for months on end with our fur coats. Probably these fabrics they all wear, insulated maybe? No. Same fabric type as far as I could tell, only ours were less... Elaborate. I took an all too uncomfortable look at the individual next to me and silently apologised for my staring as I tried to make sense of them. I shrugged it off and read my Manga.

About a half hour later I noticed how the next customer was done and I absent-mindedly looked up from my book at the sight. Shock hit me like a cudgel, and my brain failed to register the sight. Same face, same expression, same demeanour but by all the Ancestors the woman that sat next to me looked COMPLETELY different. From hair dark as the night sky to a lustrous golden shimmer, from dishevelled flatness to a bouncy, curvy wave. Were these creatures some kind of chimeran race or something!?

A male approached me and looked up at me. Well technically, while I was sitting down we were relatively the same height. "Well hot damn aren't you a tall drink of water! I was told we had new guests but didn't expect we would have one in my humble shop! Names Marco, I won this fine establishment, and what can I get for you today?" He asked.

I tried to say something and a tuft of hair slipped in front of me. "Say no more! Need to give you a good trim and fringe cut. I got you covered. Do you want a full service or just a trim maybe? I can see some potential here..." He said again and dragged me to one of the chairs.

I was spun around and a mechanical whine made me lift up in the air a bit more before being slowly returned to a more reclined position. A towel or at least some kind of garment was tossed over me and secured reasonably tightly. A bottle of liquid appeared and before I could say anything in protest, my fringe was wet and I could hear the tell-tale snips of scissors and the sudden lightening of my forehead.

"My, my goodness gracious, does someone not know the concept of brushing ones hair? No matter, these combs can untie any knot or mat. I've faced so much worse from my own kind I swear, this will be a good workout for both of us. Fancy something different though?" He asked above the noise of clippers and scissors.

"Uhhh… I... I don't... Uhh…" I said.

"Don't know huh? Well don't worry friend of ours lets just get you trimmed and neat, then we can figure from there. Baby steps, baby steps. Love the coat you have, it's quite luxurious. Have to say though, you don't much take that good care of it. I swear there's SO much potential here!" He barked and snipped faster.

I was distracted by the snipping and sheer staggering speed of this human's movements, the scissors like a blur, tufts of hair floating to the ground like a falling cascade of leaves from a slumbering tree. "Well I... our species evolved for efficiency's sake so... we generally don't... Uhh."

"Say no more friend, let's see if we can at least spark a renaissance with a clean cut shall we? Our hair is a bit different from yours. Ours is thicker, more body to it. Yours has more volume compared to ours, and we only have it up here." He said, tapping his head. "Little snip here, little comb here. Done. Simple cut, clean and brush. But lord I sense something SO good here, so much potential! get you properly brushed and trimmed and we can give you your own professional tailored dress suit and tie!" He said with a chuckle.

It was now I was given the chance to look at my appearance.

By the ancestors... I didn't recognise my own reflection.

Just like any man of my race I received my share of close shaves and simple cuts to stave off the summer heat... But this... this was on a whole different level. This was not a simple cut, I looked like a completely different person! Knots I never knew existed were gone and I looked... thinner. Fitter. I looked less like a tired captain of a merchant freighter and more like a professional Royal warrior or Guardian. What was once a tangled mess of fluff and tuff was all gone, neatly combed to a point of smoothness and absurdity, coated in some kind of sweet, delightfully scented liquid that adhered to my hair and gave it a strangely durable sheen. My head? It had been styled somehow, the curls and waves moved just so, the trim just so, and the comb, just so, that made a certain pattern atop my head.

Sure, it was only head and shoulders, but I looked like an entirely different person. I reached up and touched the side of my head to see if it was actually me.

"I knew you'd like it! Good clean cut but that head... Well I just HAD to give you a good old Elvis! Can't go wrong with the King's hairstyle, especially with a head like yours. Gotta say, suits you! You got the jawline and eyebrows to pull it off. What do you think?" He asked.

I remained silent for a few moments, contemplating reality and my reflection. Then, I said without thinking. "I like it... I REALLY like it..."

"OH that's what I was hoping for! But still, SO much I can work with here! Maybe next time you come round, I can give you a full wash, dry and proper groom with the god shears. Get some of the grime out of you and make you look more... sophisticated. I mean the Elvis really does work for you but I can't help but think something more sophisticated like the Bond or the Godfather might work better. You seem like the distinguished type, you could easily pull that off! In FACT... let me just..."

He didn't take a moment longer and within seconds the hair style was gone, it was now shorter, sharper, and conveyed a sense of strength, power. I felt... Like I could take anyone on and win.

"Behold, the Bond. Like? Don't like?" He asked.

"By the Ancestors! What changeling magic is this!?" I bellowed.

"Ugh, fine! Back to Elvis, we can try the Godfather next time! But this is the last one, I have to get to the afternoon rush!" he barked in annoyance, and within seconds, I had that 'Elvis' style on top of my head. I felt... Strangely regal but not in a royal way.

Eventually he finished up and swooped the garment off me. It was a stark contrast between my top and my everything else and I felt like I was mismatched. Shoulders and above was a strong, clean, well kept officer of high repute, and under that I felt like a hermit on an abandoned backwater. I looked about and noted some things about the store and the hair dye caught my eye. I reached over and picked up a bottle. Now I knew how that woman from before had changed... These creatures had so little hair, but they had so many things to actually do with it. Professional grooming products, and an entire profession dedicated to the task?

"I.... Need a coat or something... Where can I get one of those?" I asked, becoming increasingly self conscious.

He smiled and chuckled, leading me to the register. It was a LOT cheaper than I thought it would be, especially for this result. I paid, followed his instructions and purchased something called a 'trench coat' at a nearby shop and returned to my ship for the evening rest cycle. A few other crew mates were already there but I kept to myself. I sat in my seat, looking over reports of the ship's repairs. The Ensign wandered in later that evening and looked at me. Her head snapped towards me with such speed I thought her neck snapped, and she stared at me with a look I had never seen before.

"Ensign Krall? Is there something wrong?" I asked.

A smile, the likes of which genuinely terrified me crossed her lips and-

(THIS PASSAGE HAS BEEN REDACTED BY ORDER OF THE GALACTIC MERCHANTS UNION UNDER CITATION OF INDECENT OR LASCIVIOUS CONTENT)

I ran out of my ship toward the station and back to Marco's barber shop. I barged in and with more force than I meant to use, grabbed Marco himself with both claws and glared at him. "DO YOU PEOPLE PUT APHRODISIACS IN YOUR HAIR CARE PRODUCTS OR SOMETHING!? WHAT MAGICAL CURSES DID YOU PUT ON ME!!!?" I barked.

Marco's expression started as terrified, then instantly switched to devious. "Oh my... Someone got lucky last night! The Elvis really did it for you huh?"

"You could say that... YOU COULD SAY THAT!" I yelled between breaths..

"Oh really..." Marco's accent and voice changed, I believe the accent was labelled in the archive as 'Al Pacino Voice'. "Then perhaps my Son... We should try something less inviting. More stoic. More... Deserving of respect. Sit for a time... Let us see if the Godfather works for you." He said, gaining an all too sadistically satisfactory smirk.

My legs ached from running, I nodded, gently put him down and sat in a seat, carefully pretending not to exist while I waited for my turn.

Needless to say... We know what happened after this revelation. We know what became of us after this. I can only say...

I regret nothing. I look fantastic.

I stood at my command post on the bridge of the largest warship we had at our disposal. My tactical display showed me we had over six hundred ships, most of which were combat vessels and a few logistics carriers. But most of all, this was the first real combat operation involving our first ever Carrier class warship. A concept we blatantly stole from the Terrans of course. We never even hid it from them. We just outright took it and they were just fine with it. And so were we. We were here to meet up with them.

Humans. Enigmas of the galaxy, freaks of nature with no rules when it comes to... well almost anything.

Now they were our allies in one of the riskiest and most dangerous operations we were ever attempting. Half the Empire's military strength was gathered here, and my hope was that we could accomplish our mission before the enemy noticed our borders were unprotected. One singular, deep decisive strike against the enemy forces, wiping out their admiralty and destroying their ships in a decisive surprise attack. Rogue generals, rogue admirals and hopefully a few corrupted politicians responsible for the mess that's been going on for the last decade will come to a swift end.

Assuming my intel sources are right anyway. But one way or another this will end before it begins. I just need the humans to work their magic. Hopefully.

"All ships report optimal conditions Admiral. All ships in formation as requested. Ping reports three minutes out." The ship's captain said.

"Perfect. Now everyone, make sure you follow the protocol we spoke about. Manual control of turrets and weapons only, besides Point Defence. Set shields double front and reactors to idle." I barked into the comms link.

I took a moment for my orders to carry through and then looked around at the fleet composition. Two hundred ships from The Elarian Confederacy, the so-called 'Space Penguins' as the humans call them. Sleek ships that had capabilities to fight underwater and in the atmosphere for an extended period, but were weak in ship to ship combat. Protecting them were ships from my people, the Kataskanii Imperium, too large and unable to go atmospheric, but capable of facing almost anything spaceborne head on. Scattered among them were fifty or so ships from humanity's newly minted Vassals, the Saranai Confederacy, bearing the largest ships in the coalition fleet with heavier firepower than we needed.

Everything was in place.

"Ping detected sir. Fleet is incoming, Terran signatures... I count... Seventy of them." My ensign said.

I raised a brow. "Seventy? That's... a lot more than I expected."

"Maybe the humans are joining us in the battle?" The captain mused.

"Unlikely. The Terrans have no skin in the game and likely don't want the blood on their hands. They likely won't be joining the fight." I replied.

"If they aren't fighting then what are we waiting here for?" The captain asked, confused.

"Patience Captain. Patience. Here they come!" I barked, noting the spacetime distortions building in front of the fleet.

Moments later, they warped in. Terran Industrial Cargo Freighters, Mobile Drydocks and heavy logistics cruisers. A lot more than I was expecting. They all appeared in perfect synchronisation in front of the fleet and before we could respond, they were turning around with practised precision. Each one could hold fifty ships easily with room to spare. We didn't need this many. Within seconds, I gave the order to mobilise and dock up with any available slot. The fleet reluctantly obeyed orders and each ship in the fleet latched on and locked in.

I was about to make history, by militarising humanity’s logistics network.

My own ship carefully wandered into one of the drydocks, and I saw first hand how their system worked. Gigantic mechanical claws reached down from the sides to grab the ships hull with electromagnetic locks, effectively freezing the ship into the Drydocks field of influence. Seconds after we were hauled into place secured with the dock, I saw cables and pipes, among so many other things extending from automated docking arms and extensions down to the ship. Whatever they could get a hold of, they did, plugging themselves into sockets or removing access panels between armour layers to seize access to the ships systems. The lights dimmed for a few moments, then the ship's reactor slowed to 'idle' state. We came to a rest and the lights returned.

I checked systems while I could and noted how power output was reaching Petawatt levels. Shields were down but angled properly, which is exactly what I asked for. Exactly what I needed. I quickly logged in to their system computers and checked with them, handing over the navigation data and jump coordinates. Hopefully they will be able to make good use of it.

"India Golf Niner Three checking in, confirming jump cords and operation security check, over." A voice on the comm yelled.

"Copy India Golf Niner Three this is 'Repconn Two Seven' callsign 'Breacher', code two-eight-alpha-two-seven-Phi. How copy?" I replied.

"All clear. Estimate two minutes to fleet readiness. We are having some hardware compat issues with the new ships, give us a minute."The radio replied. I nodded in response.

"Now I see what's going on..." The captain said.

"Oh do you? Then explain it." I replied.

"You know of these ship-shipping ships and their ability to amplify jump range. You intend to use this ability along with precise jump coordinates to jump directly into the enemy fleet for a massive surprise attack. Then, use the momentum to force the Kabaki to surrender, don't you?" He said.

"You have the first part right, but not the second. No. I have something better in mind. Something that will hit harder. And result in less casualties if it works." I replied.

"And if it doesn't work?" He asked.

"Then the Terrans will witness what the Kabaki are capable of, and our sacrifice will result in all out war with the Terran Federation. The Terrans are here not as facilitators, but as witnesses. Don't tell them that though... They will interfere. This is a problem that goes deep, and I have to hit it just right to fix it properly. Everyone knows their targets. We have to hit them hard and fast and leave no survivors. This is the heart of the current Admiralty and contains the worst scumbags in the empire. If the ships I ask for are destroyed, it wont matter if we survive the battle or not, we will have done our jobs." I said.

"Then this is effectively a suicide mission?" The Captain said with a grave expression.

"If you fight hard and hit harder, it won't need to be. We can rout them if we are fast and precise, and we all know what exactly we need to hit, if my intel is still good. Which it should be. This is for a far greater purpose than you can imagine Igor... this has to go well, even if we die. The cold calculus of war as humanity once coined it. Some die here, so many can live there. Sadly... That is what it comes down to." I replied.

"Jump drives charged, coordinates locked, grav-lances primed. Two... One... Ignition." The radio said.

Before I could say anything the fabric of reality disintegrated and focused itself to a singularity in front of us. I felt my soul rip itself away from my body and my brains go into my feet for the tiniest split of a split microsecond. Then it all stopped, and we were in the system, all of us, six hundred warships of the Coalition fleet, along with seventy human ships that carried us in. I double checked my coordinates and we were exactly where I asked, and I ran some short wave scans. The ships I was targeting were there.

"Our time is now! All ships configure as follows! Shields full double front, all weapons to manual with Point defences at automatic with two hundred unit range. Set engines to full reverse thrust and brace yourselves for the ride of your lives! Targeting data is shared, focus ALL your fire exclusively on the designated targets! If we do this fast, we will all make it out alive and unscathed!" I barked.

I got a beep on the console. Every ship had acknowledged my order. "Okay humans! Do your thing!" I barked.

A few seconds passed. Nothing. We stayed docked. What was going on? Did they hear me talk? No, impossible. It was only maybe fifteen seconds but it felt like an eternity, like they were considering an unknown variable of some kind. They knew something was off, but couldn't think what. Time was running out though. I had to rush this before we were spotted.

"Please!" I barked.

I was forced backwards into my chair as the ship's reactor, engines and everything else roared to life. A deflection field surrounded us and we were catapulted forward at incredible speed, our engines throttled to full reverse making the ride just that bumpier as we charged through space towards the enemy fleet. My plan was working. How was it working? We were closing distance at the perfect range at the perfect speed, and within moments we were in the midst of a massive warship fleet.

We came to a fast halt as the engines roared away, and we stopped. "OPEN FIRE!" I yelled.

Our fleet effectively appeared out of nowhere within the enemy fleet formation with speed they had no way to counteract and we managed to confuse them enough to the point they were taken fully by surprise. All our ships opened fire at once, and within seconds of the order, all of the ten ships I had targeted specifically were lit up like a celebratory explosives display. Three of which faltered almost immediately, having no shields active at the time. Three massive explosions erupted in short order. Two more followed shortly thereafter, and with one fell swoop, half of the Kabaki's military command structure, at least the ones I was after, were dead and their custom built flagships along with them.

"MAINTAIN FIRE!" I bellowed through the radio. "THESE CRIMINALS MUST FACE JUSTICE! DO NOT STOP YOUR ATTACKS UNTIL EVERY LAST PRIMARY TARGET IS MELTED TO SLAG!"

The battle continued, and as another ship faltered and exploded, the enemy finally began to retaliate. The casualty reports started flooding in and we started losing ships but the enemy wasn't able to do much about our assault. My own ship aimed its main cannons at the Kabaki Admiral Durakk's flagship, and unleashed a heavy battery straight into its engines. It must have blasted through the reactors, as the ship instantly went Nova. We were unfortunately caught in the detonation, being basically in spitting distance and our shields took too much impact and they shut down. One of the starboard generators also appeared to short out and explode too.

Seven of ten ships. Now what was left were Kulakk', Polakk, and Sunnakk. Kulakk was now taking heavy fire, and he would be gone soon. Polakk was attempting to escape with a heavily damaged engine. Sunnakk was not going down. His dreadnought was taking the full brunt of fire from a hundred of our ships, and he wasn't even flinching as a sixth of our total fleet was firing concentrated barrages at him. I directed the Captain to aim us at him and hit him as hard as we could.

I was thrown out of my chair by an explosion. One of the enemy battleships had just used a broadside to hit us hard. "Starboard stabilisers out of action! Decks five through eight report hull breaches, damage control teams engaged!" The ensign barked.

"Maintain fire! I know what's going on! FIGHT TO THE LAST MAN! FIGHT TO THE LAST I SAY!" The captain bellowed into his comms.

Good... He figured it out. A bit late. But he got it. I crawled back to my seat and my heart sank from the casualty reports. "We are losing ships too fast! We cant keep this up!" I said.

"ALL SHIP UNABLE TO FIGHT ENGAGE EMERGENCY JUMP PROCEDURES! THAT'S AN ORDER!" The captain barked.

I looked at the dreadnought, and a hundred and eighty of our ships, nearly half of our remaining fleet, was single-mindedly focused on it. I checked the transponders and noted nine of my ten intended targets were destroyed. It was enough, but I needed to be absolutely certain and Sunnakk was the worst of them all. The casualty reports kept coming in and we took another jolt of damage from a secondary impact, three of their cruisers had sent a volley on us.

"Starboard side hit, decks twenty eight to sixty one report breaches, major damage to engineering and cargo bay! Crew quarters reports lights out!" The ensign said.

"One more hit like that and our reactor will fail!" The captain yelled.

"Retaliate against the lead cruiser! They will-"

My command was interrupted by a bolt from nowhere hitting the side of Sunnakk's ship, and his shields failed. Seconds after a second bolt hit, a direct strike on the main reactor, and his warship instantly powered down and began to drift towards the planet's gravity well. Explosions from inside started appearing as parts of the ships fuel caches exploded from what was likely internal short circuits. The ship then faltered and slipped below the formation before I watched the bridge explode from a fireball from inside. Sunnakk was dead. As we reeled from that occurrence, three more bolts from the void appeared, each one hitting the three cruisers that were targeting us. With that threat resolved, I hauled myself off the floor and yelled into the communicator.

"MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! FULL RETREAT! FULL RETREAT!" I yelled desperately.

"All power to FTL drive!" The captain barked.

We took a few more hits, luckily nowhere important and were able to make an emergency jump towards our evacuation point. As soon as we were stable I jumped out of my seat to check casualty reports, and help with the ships damage control teams.

Our operation was a complete success. But the damage was... Severe. Better than I expected, worse than I had hoped.

Of the six hundred ships I sent in, a hundred and twelve were destroyed, lost or scuttled. Two hundred were damaged beyond repair and barely functional. The rest were heavily damaged, some with leaking jump drives or fracturing engines. It was a worthy sacrifice. Now it was time for Phase two of my plan.

"My Admiral! Terran warships on approach! Multiple non Terran signatures detected as well, looks like a Council Warden fleet is with them. A fleet of two hundred battlecruiser and carrier class warships incoming at speed." The ensign said.

"Let them come! Don't resist when they board us! Any ship with operable shields or weapons, stand down and obey their orders!" I yelled back.

"All ships, phase two, repeat, phase two!" Ensign barked into his comm.

The fleet obeyed. I sat down in my seat and the captain and I shared a knowing nod. A few minutes later, I had Terran Marines and Council Praetorians on the bridge, my hands secured behind my back and the ship being towed to drydock. I simply smiled at them and took a deep nervous breath as Councillor Vahann wandered in with his Marshalls.

"Admiral Vek. Would you care to explain the act you just committed in violation of Article Seven of the Non Aggression Act?" He said, his tall imposing silky form looking down at me.

I simply shrugged and nodded towards a stack of documents nearby. He picked one up, it was the evidence file I had on Admiral Polakk, who was killed in the fight. He opened it and read a few lines of the reports within. His expression changed from annoyed diplomat to enraged soldier. He read further, handing over the documentation to his Praetorians and even the Terran soldiers nearby. Their expressions changed accordingly. Councillor Vahann tried to speak, but I shushed him up.

"What happens now is this: You arrest me on charges of Sedition. They will take me to trial. You use this as an excuse to expose all of the evidence to the Galactic Council... Then the wheels of diplomacy will work overtime. The Council will keep the humans at bay while we do the work. Because we all know exactly what will happen if they get involved in this, especially with what Admiral Duhakk was up to... We will be able to rebuild the honour of the Kabaki Empire, without them facing world glassing warfare from the Terran Navy. We all know what would have happened. Now... Lets go. I have a cell waiting for me." I said, maintaining my smile.

They all looked at me and a knowing expression crossed all their faces. One of the Terran Marines approached, glaring down at me from behind his black helmet. “I’m guessing YOU were the ones responsible for the bolts from the blue that destroyed Sunnakk’s ship?” I asked.

I got a not so subtle nod in response and maintained my smile.

"Hell of a false flag op... Use the galaxy's biggest logistics network to effectively teleport yourself on a suicide mission straight into a fleet operated by some of the biggest 'legit' criminals in the galaxy, then take the fall for it. Then, while the galaxy at large is attempting to get you burned on the stake as a distraction, you release all the documentation that would send half of the people who would vote to convict to the gallows. Simultaneously getting rid of an entire criminal empire, and preventing the mass casualty of an entire species caught in the crossfire, because you knew that we wouldn't forgive.. Did I about get that right?" He asked.

"Yep. Sound familiar? I stole the concept from your strategy playbook after all." I said proudly, giving the Terran a wink with two of my four eyes.

The Terran reached over and read Admiral Duhakk's file and I could sense he was getting VERY agitated. "You are correct... We would've glassed a dozen worlds if it meant we would kill this guy... Among other things."

"My sentiments exactly. Now Councillor Vahann… If you would be so kind?" I said, holding up my restraints.

Vahann took a deep breath, composing himself. "Erase the deck logs from when we arrived on board, use the damage to the ship as the excuse for data loss, mimic it if you need to." he ordered the Ensign. The ensign hastily pulled his pistol and put several laser blasts into the console controlling the security system.

"Whoops, looks like my pistol discharged! Sorry! It spooked me, I must be seeing shadows!" He said.

Councillor Vahann straightened up and cleared his throat. "Admiral Vek of the Kataskanii Imperium, you are under arrest under charges of terrorism, sedition, and murder following the attack on Carius Four. I am placing you under the jurisdiction of the Terran Federation to be brought to trial by the Galactic Council." he said. He waved a hand, and with practised prowess his Praetorians and Terran soldiers hauled me off the ship and into his Flagship to the brig.

the next few months were a blur of activity. I was predictably stripped of my rank and station and put before the Council for judgement. As expected, the people I was watching did what I knew they would, and tried to vote conviction to back their own asses. Councillor Vahann then released the documents I found to the Council. Enraged by the data, the Terrans breached protocol and hastily arrested half the Council's members. Disgusted by the evidence presented, their home nations denounced them and in several cases, personally executed them in response.

Within weeks, the Terran Navy were swarming Kabaki holdings, but were kept at bay by Council fleets who forced them to sheathe their blades using my battle as evidence their intended target was already dead. Then with the Council's help, the Terrans switched from attack to relief mode as they quickly realized just how poorly the Kabaki Empire was faring under their previous rulers. With unanimous vote, the Council ordered the Kabaki Empire to undergo temporary Vassalage under the Terran Federation until they return to their proper glory, and ten generations of corruption and abuse are undone.

I was released to civilian life under forced retirement, and I chose to live on a Terran Farmstead out on the rim.

It was then I learned that the Council started to enquire exactly HOW managed to pull off a stunt like that, and humanity's Ship-Shipping-Ships and the moves I pulled off became a hot topic of conversation. But that's not my business anymore. I have chickens now.

I stood at the bridge of my Flagship, The Dakarius, the crew looking very much beside themselves. When these rank and file officers came to work that day, I am fairly certain they were not expecting their very own Emperor in person to start giving them fleet orders. I wandered between the ship consoles and stations, looking with curiosity at what was actually happening on board my ships. This was the first time I had actually seen shipboard operations in the navy, and on occasion I would approach one of the officers and ask what a particular beep was for. The crew, bless their souls, carried on with a relative sense of normalcy.

Unusual, considering recent circumstances with our Southern Border.

I looked at the ship's Chronometer. "They are... late. Which is odd for them if I am told correctly." I remarked idly as I passed the Captains chair.

"My King? Who are we expecting in this odd backwater?" The Captain asked.

"Diplomacy, my dear Captain, Diplomacy. If they are late for the reason I think, it may yet end the Southern Border Dispute with the Olivarkians." I said, failing to hide my suspiciously jubilant smile.

"Diplomacy... With whom? Has a new Empire been found all the way out here? Or am I forgetting something..." the Captain asked.

I laughed, somewhat concerningly and resumed my casual trot around the ship. "You are indeed Drucius… you are indeed."

I checked the Chronometer again, they were a full half hour late now. Just as I was about to give up and give the order to start prepping the ship for more direct tasks, IT appeared.

Like a monster from the deepest black oblivion of our nightmares, a Terran Warship appeared effectively right in front of us. The crew and all in the fleet immediately began a frantic panic. Shields were up, weapons were heating up and within moments of that beast's arrival, the fleet had been routed. The insane Terrans, the Crazy Humans. Their reputation preceded them as the gigantic behemoth warped into RealSpace barely kilometres from our flagship's nose. I barked into the fleets' comms and my imperial voice calmed them down fast. A few ships had to steel themselves and return to formation, but otherwise I brought us all back to reality. At least for a time.

"Weapons stand down, shield to half! That is a direct order from your Emperor!" I barked at them.

The crew reluctantly obeyed orders before a screen popped up from the ceiling. The image on screen showed what I was expecting, the Human Coursairs. A monster of man and machine mixed into one terrifyingly striking organism, a blasphemous and genuinely horrific creature in the form of a human, with cables and pipes, where there should be no cables or pipes. He wore a mask that augmented his voice and face with a terrifying visage that resembled a skull, his clothes of scarlet red with purple trim and accessories. I straightened up quickly and presented myself with a bow.

"Please forgive my fleet officers... I fear your monstrous reputation precedes you humans and they understandably had a little moment there. I apologize for that." I said.

"Monstrous reputation? I don't recall having one of those." He said. At least I think he did, his voice was... distorted.

"It's a matter of that planet killing abomination you call a warship you came in here. What's this one? Five kilometres long? Beautiful as it is, that thing is just too much." I said.

The Coursair breathed a deep mechanical breath and chuckled sadistically at me. "Its always nice to see one's efforts appreciated. And for reference, four point seven kilometres. I apologize as well for my tardiness, I needed to pick up some fuel cells and factory parts."

I could tell he was agitated. Something must be up. "Forgiven. I am Imperial Highness Saraniis Juib the Fourth, High King of the Saranian Imperium. We are your neighbours along the Southern Rim of the galaxy. I am also the one who asked for your commission, Coursair." I stated plainly.

The Coursair leaned forward, revealing some of the pipes and cables behind him. "Is that so?" He said, and regarded me closely. I noted the noise of a particular beeping console, we were being scanned. He stayed quiet for a few moments. Eventually he took a deep raspy breath and spoke calmly, his demeanour changing to a more relaxed stance.

"My name is Malak June, Martian Born member of one of the Ten Great Houses of the Jovian Republic. I am presently under the sponsorship of House Caliban, Europa. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He said.

"I have read from my reports and diplomatic calls that humans have this thing where they like to do things directly and not waste time. So I shall come right out with it. I wish to commission you to do something for us. I have some serious problems regarding some economic zones within the Empire... I was hoping there was a possibility of hiring you to construct a factory on the Second planet in this star system to facilitate some much needed jobs and manufacturing. Among a few other things." I said.

He looked at me. I could not tell what kinds of things he was thinking (our species are not mind readers, that's the Bakarli you're thinking of) and the way he was glaring at me was concerningly terrifying.

"And... Why?" He asked.

I simply shrugged and smiled. "Why not?"

He scoffed, chuckling sadistically. "You invite a fully armed warship that can wipe out an entire Imperial Fleet directly into a border zone. Not JUST a warship, but a Private Contractor you know for a fact is within the control of an active Faction within the Terran Republic. You then ask me, in no uncertain terms, that you effectively require a long term, non Saranian presence in this star system. Because that's what kind of factory you are asking me to build. The factory you want, according to this docket you sent, is on a planetary scale and contains its own self-sustaining colony and shipyard. This means there is some underlying reasoning behind this very much out of character, especially for your kind of request. So I shall have to ask... What's the agenda?" he asked.

He had me figured out from the start. I failed to find my words for a time. "Pfft screw it. The Olivarkian Confederacy are laying claim to this star system as part of their Pilgrimage efforts, this star is part of one of their Holy Constellations apparently. I don't want to risk war with them, we are evenly matched and the casualties would be mercilessly high for both of us. I can't cede the system to them, we have full legal ownership of it according to the Great Compact. They are unwilling to let it go, and the system is a valuable strategic asset. I lose either way if I give it to them, or if I fight a war with them and lose millions of my men. A cost, far too high either way. If YOU are here... The Olivarkians will come to the negotiating table and maybe we can work something out for real. At the moment, they refuse compromise. With a Terran colony 'borrowing' one of the planets here for some manufacturing... Well. You get the idea."

He looked at me and leaned back in his seat for a while. It felt like ages before he finally spoke again. "Hmmm... Clever... Olivarkians… the Arachnoid species in the Segmentum Rim. We have dealt with them many times in the past few years. I hear they revere Humans as Guardians for what they did back in 'ought twenty three. Use their relationship to bring them to a negotiating table despite their hostility. Use a mercenary as a shield to force them to the table to peace talks. Build a factory of sorts to create a bargaining chip in the form of trade contracts and goods or services, possibly even facilitate tourism and the construction of a Temple for the Pilgrimage thing. And all with the plausible deniability of hiring a Coursair to build a Factory in your borders to allay a financial crisis. Clever... Very clever. Sneaky. But clever." He said.

"Got me in one." I replied sheepishly. I stood by and waited for him to finish thinking.

"Are you sure it will work?" He asked.

"No." I said, getting some side glances from my officers and crew. "But it's better than losing a critical component of my empire's defences, and definitely cheaper in the long and short than a war that will likely cripple both of us. This is easier and more effective at accomplishing all my tasks. If I 'temporarily' give the system to a human contractor... it will make them think of peace because you scare the crap out of them. And I can use your industry as a means to bribe them to complacency until we find something real." I said, standing straight and proud.

He sat there quiet for a time yet again and I could almost see a smile behind his mask. "Sneaky. And Clever. I am reminded why some men are indeed leaders when I talk to some people. Okay then its a deal... What factory world am I building here exactly, and how long do I have to build it before this ruse is found out?" he asked.

A feeling of relief washed over me as a great weight had just been lifted. "Mass production of basic consumer goods, farming and food stocks for emergency reserves, low grade weapons and munitions for civilian police and security. Drydocks for ships, repairs, fuel, cargo storage, refining. Stuff that tourists would need. I have... Some stipulations. I intend to use the habitable planet as a colony world in future, pollution of any kind must be an absolute minimum. But any other planet is free to grab if you need the resources. Keep pollution to an absolute zero. As for time. Maybe a Galactic Standard Week before their first Pilgrims arrive." I said.

"You ask of me a tall order. First I have to construct the equivalent of an entire colony, mining, manufacturing, and farming industry. Then I have to build this under the duress of limited pollution due to the need for population in future. Furthermore, I have to start production of a massive equatorial drydock that can service capital class vessels by the hundreds due to a future tourism industry. All this, plus I have to build standard defensive facilities and tactical turret networks to keep the star system safe. AND I have to do this... In one week." He said.

"Well... You put it that way I suppose it seems a bit unreasonable." I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.

He laughed. I'm not sure if it was at me or the absurdity of my request, but he laughed for a bit. "My friend... I know three men who started from patches of ore they mined with their hands and built up an entire planetary production network, spanning two separate star systems... And they did it in what is effectively less than four hundred hours. I know men who can speed run the process of landing on a planet with nothing but their bare hands, and build up chemical rockets to take them to space - in less than eight hours time. Can I do it? Of course, with ease and haste, no problem. This will simply require a significant level of planning and future proofing is all. I do quite like a challenge, so of course I'll take you up on the offer!" He said.

That took me aback and I almost stumbled. "Eight hours?"

"Fastest time on record from landing to first rocket to space stands at two hours, twenty eight minutes, twelve seconds. That guy... dirty, filthy factory, with cheap components and basic gear, but hot damn he did it FAST. As for this project? Maybe three days before I have the first few production lines ready to start. This will be EASY and I wont even have to Seed any worlds here. This will be fun." he chuckled and smiled behind his mask, he was giddy.

"Oh! I... Holy crap... Two hours from brick furnaces to rocket launch? That's... What the hell kind of tech do you use?" I asked.

"Dangerous, not re-useable, highly inefficient, polluting tech that is built in an emergency to get the hell out of a touch spot so we can come back later to do it properly with better equipment. Stuff that starts out as steam powered clockwork abominations, with haphazardly assembled components built exclusively for ONE purpose - get the job done. We call it Basic Survival Tech... If it works, it works." He replied with a shrug.

"I... I see. So... uhh..."

"In any case, I shall get started." He said.

"Wait! I was supposed to offer you payment! This is a massive undertaking so we need to negotiate your compensation for it. Right?" I said.

He leaned in and glared at me. "The thrill of the build is good enough for me to be honest... I do love building factories. It's just fun by itself watching things come together! But... If you are offering... I won't say no."

"Well I screwed up that one didn't I? If I did not say anything, would you have just done it anyway?" I asked.

"Yes." He stated plainly. I could almost see the smirk on his face.

I sighed and did that thing humans did when they realize something dumb just happened when they slap their own face. "Okay... I was going to offer you one of our older generation Cruisers as compensation."

I saw him visibly shudder from that. "You cannot be serious... that is a... more generous offer than you know."

"This was important enough that I had to make a definitive decision on the matter. I couldn't risk this not happening, not when there is so much on the line. I had to make sure I had something that you would definitely go for... Even if it meant your species' damnable talent for reverse engineering showed itself in full. I had to make a choice and make it fast." I barked.

He stayed quiet for a few moments. "Hmm... Keep the Cruiser... I will get started. I cannot morally justify accepting a gift of that magnitude under these circumstances so I will just enjoy the fun of logistics planning. I'm weird like that anyway."

I had no chance to respond to it as his massive ship turned away from us and deployed drop pods from its undersides towards the planet. hundreds of them. All of our communications were then hijacked, and he began to chant in some strange voice through all our radios.

"It is by my will alone I set the universe in motion. It is by the machine that the universe acquires structure, by the Void the world acquires purpose, by the Gods the universe gains reason, but it is my will alone by which the universe is put in motion. The Crystals Must Glow. The Spice Must Flow. THE FACTORY. MUST. GROW."

We all sat there in silence for a few moments before we regained our composure and watched him work. He had deployed thousands of drones, droids, machines and mechs to the planet's surface and they were hastily assembling a makeshift factory. It looked rudimentary for the sake of scouting resources and space to build out. We sat there in awe, looking out at what this man was doing with a sense of shock and dread at the sheer speed of the construction. Within the first twenty minutes, the first spattering of complex circuitry and heavy machinery were being assembled, and after the first half hour, the first of humanity's signature City Block Sized mega factory structures was operational.

"Uhm... May I ask a question? I asked.

"Certainly. Ask away."

"What was that mantra you spoke? What did any of that mean?" I asked.

"Its something we came up with a few decades ago, the Coursairs, specifically the class of Coursair I am - Artificers. It is a mantra that was originally made for a movie as a line spoken by a character. It then went around various nerd spaces and was adapted to fit their routines, the Mantra of coffee or Code. We, of course, have our own variant. It's all just a joke at the end of the day, a pop culture reference couched in a dozen other references, but it's all in good fun." He replied calmly.

"Oh. I see... Does it have any actual meaning? Like... the Crystals? or the Void?" I asked.

"'It is by will alone' implies we believe that, without us, meaning sapients, the universe would have no reason to exist, so we give it meaning. Our will alone, sets the universe in motion, giving it purpose. We are all a part of a grand scheme far beyond our knowing. "It is by the machine' means what it says, we are here only due to our technology, and it is by our technology that the universe acquires structure. 'By the Void' is a literal interpretation of the meaning and concept behind space and space flight. The Crystals is in reference to an old strategy game franchise known as Command And Conquer and its infamous 'Tiberium' resource. 'The Spice' is in reference to the Spice Melange from the old Dune universe. And ‘The Factory Must Grow’ is simply what all factory building nerds say. At least, that is MY interpretation. I don't think about it much, it's just fun to say." He stated plainly.

"I... was expecting more than that to be honest. you creatures are... a lot less enigmatic than you appear, apparently." I said.

"Sometimes we are part of something greater, sometimes we are masters of the craft. Sometimes, like with guys like me, we are just nerds that do silly things for fun, because we can." He said.

"Uhh… noted." I looked around. "I will start regular patrols and get the star system ready for general occupation. I need to contact home and get the first colonists ready for their jobs in their new home. The Olivarkians will be here long before they arrive, but I am sure it will work out." I said.

"Oh do not worry. A few of my contemporaries have been listening in on our conversation, as we often do when we are bored. This will be done in short order... I have reinforcements inbound." he said.

"Oh... What the hell did I unleash?"

"Nerds. You unleashed nerds. Factory building, optimisation chasing, circuit making, maths doing, per-minute producing, rocket launching nerds. Perhaps the most dangerous entity in the universe besides an actual Space Engineer. Now THOSE guys are what you need to be afraid of. Those guys build fleets twice the size of yours in a matter of days." he said casually.

"Wait, there are WORSE creatures than the Coursairs?" I yelled, now close to being genuinely scared to death.

He looked at me and smiled behind his mask. I could not see it but I could feel the sinister malice behind it. "YES. Far, FAR worse. More dangerous. More unhinged. More insatiable. I know one such man. His name is Jeffrey, he's a hell of a guy. Makes the best burger you ever tasted. Great guy. Don't get on his bad side though. He tends to make ships that can collapse stars if something pisses him off. I wonder what he did with that Neutron Collider Cannon he made... that would be nice to have."

That statement knocked the wind out of me and I exhaled, and passed out at the concept of a weapon that shoots colliding Neutrons.

There is always something strangely compelling about watching a Whelp learn how to hunt. It's a weird way to work. They feel the flood of power, strength. The moonlight changes them, the darkness breaks them, it awakens something primal in them. Probably explains the reason most Vampires such as myself are feared or reviled. When we awaken... Something about our humanity fails us.

In this particular case, a new-born vampire Elf. Is it still humanity though? Maybe in this case Elfanity perhaps? Who really knows our origins, but this one's pointy ears and radiant arrogance made it clear what he used to be at least. That's one thing about Elves... Born as blood-made royalty, they carry that... stuck up bastard attitude with them no matter where they go. But oh do they get humbled when the sun rises. This one will be no exception, he will claim his first victim, then likely realize just how much of a bad choice that was when the Hunters start chasing him. Then spend a few years drinking rat blood in a cave somewhere, then go hunting wild beasts after a few tries, then probably join one of the Great Houses.

It always happens, unless the Hunters kill this one. They often do. They've become VERY good at that lately. The new blood is very inexperienced and consequently they don't know about the concept that they can dodge crossbow bolts by moving too fast. Either that or they can't do that yet. I don't know, I was able to do it from the start. It's how I survived as long as I did before I became who and what I am.

Who am I? I am Count Alexandr DeMonte, Lord of the Bloodwoods, Master of House Cadoran. A powerful, strong name and clan.

What was I doing on that fateful night of all nights? Chasing down a Whelp to see what it did of course, I find their antics somewhat entertaining. Even with my high station, I need distraction to calm my nerves and clear my head and watching a New-born is often a good way to cool off under a starry sky. Whichever way the fight ends. This one got bitten a few months ago and finally turned that evening, this would be his first hunt. Likely a throwaway peasant from a lower class that was used to feed, got sick, failed to care for it and eventually turned. Another aspect of our Great Affliction... Sometimes it acts like a plague more than a curse. Some of us are just more susceptible to it than others I guess.

I stood at the far edge of the cliffside, watching him slink through the treeline to the edge of the forest under cover of the season's first full moon. Wouldn't exactly say he was doing a good job, he was scaring most of the forest with his growling and scraping. Getting used to his new legs I suppose, but that was no excuse for sloppy footwork. It seemed this one's only strength was speed. He wouldn't last long, I would be surprised if he did. He disappeared into the treeline and I followed nearby, so I could observe in comfort. He found a clearing, and within it - HIM.

Our first encounter with them... Or whatever they were. I wont spoil the shock of it all so I shall simply refer to them as the Outlanders. This one was a scholar or artificer of some kind, still don't know for certain what a 'Mechanist Enginseer' is, but I'm sure we will learn in due time.

There was a strange haze accompanying the evening cold this time, I had never felt something like it. A freezing chill graced the night air, a wind from seemingly nowhere gave the treetops a gentle sway and an ominous rumbling was reverberating through the ground. I had no idea what to think of it, but maintained a safe distance and watched what was happening. I took a close look at the intended victim and a cold sweat overcame me, a sense of foreboding making itself known.

Scarlet red robes made of heavy leather, some strange pipes and steel ropes permeating its back, a full mask the likes of which I had never seen with silver and purple trim. He stood at a table of some kind, which was covered in books and tomes. Rare treasures in this day and age, so that caught my attention.

As the Whelp moved closer and stepped into the clearing, I then immediately picked up a new sound. Heavy, mechanical, metal on metal like a thousand tiny irons were scraping together. I couldn't see it as such, heavy brush and branch obscured my vision, powerful though it was. I heard tell of maybe the Mountainfolk were making their absurd machinery but this was so far from the north, it would be impossible to presume them. They hate the lowlands... They never leave. I watched the Whelp ignore the ominous metal noises and creep closer, I could almost see the smirk of satisfaction on his face from the easy kill.

The Whelp whispered "You will make a good first meal..."

Then a tree trunk sized hunk of metal swooped in from the left side, appearing with speed and slamming into the poor bastard with enough force to instantly shatter dozens of bones, and send him flying. The metal chunk was shaped like a claw of some kind, and was at least a few tons in weight, and moved with the same speed as a professional warrior would throw a punch. He screamed in agony as he was catapulted off into the treeline before slamming into a tree with enough force to break what few bones he had left and causing the tree he hit to splinter somewhat. He had no chance to recognise his error. He suffered so much damage in one fell swoop, he turned to dust instantly as he fell to the ground.

The human seemed shocked for some reason and approached the dust cloud as it settled with one of the oddest tools I had ever seen drawn, preparing for battle. It was a long tube with a wooden handle, shaped strangely and tipped with a small blade and some kind of spyglass built on top of it. He approached the dust pile and sloshed it around with his foot, seemingly confused as confused could be trying to figure out what happened. It was now I was able to get a good look at the hunk of metal. The wind blew just so - and I saw it.

A huge mechanical monstrosity that towered above the treeline. Six huge mechanical legs, each as thick as a full grown Oak tree with segmented parts, supporting a large plate shaped midsection and a huge egg-shaped head. The head had six large ruby red 'eyes' that looked in multiple directions, each leg tipped with a huge three-toed claw that dug into the ground. It carried on its frame several strange independently moving mechanisms that seemed to track things in the treeline. It clanked about a bit and I lost sight of it, unsure of how to proceed. I then heard him speak. The most unnaturally distorted, corrupted voice I had ever heard, but in clear and plain Alavian. It knew Alavian? Or as he called it 'English'.

Granted it was a bit broken with his accent but it was clear enough.

"Motherbase, this is Unit Two Zero, I have just encountered a hostile native. Subject neutralized by the defence unit, it was hit then it turned to dust against a tree. Please reperform scans and advise on a course of action. Two Zero Over."

Who was he speaking to? I didn't sense anyone else there except those machines. Then I heard a voice speak, still distorted but clear, female, coming from... him? Or it was the little box with a yellow glow on it mounted on his backpack. Strange backpack. It was heavy, metallic with lots of odd knobs and pointy bits on the top.

"Copy that Two Zero, standby for rescan, Caliban Unit is inbound via hot drop, clear the road. Hold for results." The voice replied.

What were they talking about? I understood the words but I had never heard them before, not in these contexts at least. This was... Definitely something new and unusual. I had no idea just how deep I had gotten myself. The man approached the dust pile and procured a strange device that he aimed and did... something with. I presume it did something because it made sounds.

"Motherbase, scan incoming, hold for refactoring wavelengths. I think I know why we failed the first time. This guy looked human before I punted him into the next millennium. Sending data." He said.

"Receiving. Hold... Looks like you were right. Some kind of extra photomagnetic field we didn't see before causing interference. Planet is coated in some kind of aura. Hotdrop inbound, two minutes, we will redo our scan after we filter it out, give us a few, how copy?" The female voice said.

"Solid copy, Two Zero out." He said.

He then did something to a device on his right arm and the mechanical monstrosity emitted one of the most terrifying sounds I ever heard. A low pitched scream like a banshee underwater. It then dug its feet into the ground, slamming them with force, burying them into the soft grass. Its metal openings then splayed open. Several smaller insect-like machines popped out of the head and began performing various tasks. Within seconds, a job that would have taken twenty men a week was complete and the clearing had been widened around the machine.

I just stood there in awe and watched the truly incredible and terrifying sight in front of me. And by the time I decided to move, it was far too late. He craned his neck, the machines all emitted an odd squeak. And then he spoke.

"If I were you, I would either run the hell away or come closer with my hands up. Which ones it gonna be buddy?" He said. The machines instantly snapped their heads towards my hiding spot.

I was made. I felt a definitive air of foreboding, I knew despite my prowess, I wouldn't last long and my curiosity was getting the better of me. I wanted to know what in the ten hells was going on.

"Uhh… Is it okay if I just... Go home?" I asked.

"Yes." He replied coldly.

"Good. Noted." I said and stood there.

"So why aren't you?" He asked.

"Curiosity?" I replied.

"Then what you waitin' for? Get over here. And keep your hands where I can see them." He said with an air of authority I couldn't quite place.

Being what I was and lost in the moment, I made the mistake of using my Great Power to close the distance instantly and nearly had my head sliced off by one of the machines that had appeared. It trimmed a bit of my hair to be certain but I survived. It was faster than I was despite the difference and before I could move further I had a rather large blade held against my throat.

"Careful..." He shook his head disapprovingly.

I swallowed nervously and smiled. "Sorry... Got lost in the moment..."

"Just stay where you are." He growled and procured that same thing he was holding at the dust pile. He waved it at me, the thing emitting some odd noises. "Motherbase, found a local, human, at least I think he is. We have a code Two-Two-Four, please standby for data dump, I scanned him for you. This should help." He said.

"Solid Copy Code Two-Two-Four, Caliban Unit is ten seconds out. Expanding parameters. See what you can get from him." The female voice from the box replied, seeming suddenly very earnest.

"Uh... What is a 'code Two-Two-Four', exactly?" I asked sheepishly.

He said nothing as a large hunk of metal, a flying metal bird perhaps reminiscent of some early flying machines the Mountainfolk made (and failed to continue for obvious reasons) and from its belly a number of men appeared. Heavily armed and armoured, at least I presumed those things were weapons. The armour they wore was grey and blue, and I recognised the lettering on the armour and helmets. These were professional military, real soldiers, the letters JRN emblazoned on the pauldrons and chest. They fanned out and secured the area.

He grabbed my attention again and smiled. I could not see him smile of course owing to that peculiar mask, but I could see the smile as he stretched out a hand and pointed at the sky. There was a certain satisfaction in that gesture as my whole world fell apart. A machine, a ship, massive in scope and size to an absurd degree, a solid hunk of complex looking metal at minimum of three kilometres long sitting pretty far above the skies of our home near the smallest moon. I lost my footing, my legs failing me from the shock and I stumbled onto my ass on the grass. The machines stepped away, no longer seeing me as a threat.

"By the Gods..." was all I managed to say.

I sat there for a few minutes just silent, in shock trying to make sense of what I was looking at. The huge machine, the strange clothing, the massive warship. I was unable to make sense of what reality was for a time, the sheer shock making my mind break. I was no fool so it didn't last, the shock wore off, faster than he was expecting. I was the leader of one of this worlds Great Houses after all, I had to think fast and act faster. I cleared my throat and stood up, straightening my coat.

"Well... that... certainly changes things." I said.

"That was fast. Introductions perhaps?" He asked.

"Caidan Brandt, Master Mechanist Of The Jovian Royal Navy, Fifth Cohort. This..." He said, gesturing to the towering machine. "Is Brenna, my lovely Mechanoid. Behind you are soldiers of the Jovian Royal Navy."

"Count Alexandr DeMonte, Lord of the Bloodwoods, Master of House Cadoran, at your service. Welcome to Alaria, I guess? No idea how to proceed here you have met me in somewhat... questionable circumstances." I said.

"A Noble Lord of a Noble House, what are you doing here in the woods at this hour?" He asked.

"Do you believe in the concept of vampires, dear sir?" I said, smiling as such he could see my prominent fangs.

"Well that's new." He replied, craning his head confusedly.

"This world is flush with them. We have a... Certain understanding with the local populaces and work accordingly with them. To an extent at least. The one you killed was what we call a 'Whelp' or new-born vampire." I replied as calmly as I could.

"I have to ask... Is there magic here?" He asked.

I simply reached a hand out and whispered a fast incantation, and in my palm appeared a small ice ball.

"Well that answers my question. Motherbase, this is Two-Zero, refactor scanners for wavelength class Alpha Seven Bravo, how copy?" He said.

"Solid copy, please hold." The female voice said. We waited a few moments. "Two-Zero we have positive I.D., the system is ready for a full planetary scan. Looks like we stumbled on another Lost colony... This one looks fun. Sensors are detecting demi-humans too..."

"I'm sorry but can you please explain what's going on before I become so confused that my hair inverts?" I asked.

"Here's a short history lesson. Around six thousand years ago, aliens, otherworlders came to Earth - the birthplace of humanity - far away from here. They grabbed some people in an experiment, cloned them and seeded them across the galaxy. You are one such 'seed' they spread across the galaxy. It was some kind of experiment. They didn't live long enough to actually conclude anything from it, their galaxy-spanning empire collapsed and imploded. We have been alone in the galaxy at least as far as we know, and we - the cradleborn - are not the first to get to space, but we are the first to go interstellar. We are both human, you, me, them, the pointy eared guy we bashed into oblivion, all of us. We are technically alone, and technically not alone all in the same breath. There you go, short answer. The long answer is a lot more complicated." He replied.

I was taken aback by that statement for a time and remained silent for a bit longer than I thought. So long in fact one of the soldiers approached and asked if I was okay, or needed medical help.

"I am... Fine... that is just a... Lots to take in. In a very short time. This is all a bit... overwhelming. I... I don't know how to proceed." I replied.

"Then let's follow protocol. I have an actual diplomat on board who can speak to you properly and arrange things. My boss will send a detachment to keep her safe, I will keep my machines here for their duties. We can conduct diplomacy first, then we can talk about history. When everyone is appraised of the situation, we can talk about where to go from here." He replied calmly.

"I have a strange sense of foreboding about all this..." I said meekly. "But it seems I have no choice anymore."

"Not really. This will leak out one way or another. But in terms of general geopolitics, you are in good hands with the Jovian Royal Estate. We treat our subjects well, unlike the IMDC or the UEL. So be less worried than you currently are. Her Majesty the Queen is very... friendly. To a degree most of us have to talk her out of, but she is very good at what she does. We have laid claim to the star system, so legally the various other factions in the galaxy can't do anything with you or about you until we explicitly say so." he said.

I was taken aback by that more than anything else. "That... You still have factions and tribes in your... space ships?"

"Yep. Spaceships or caves, we still have something bigger to belong to. It would take far too long to list who is what and why, and frankly the only faction you need to care about for now is the JRE. As soon as you and the rest of the other Houses, I'm sure they would like to be included, are acclimatised to our presence and are aware of what's going on, then we can go from there. For now, here." He said, and handed me a small device of some kind.

"What's… this?" I asked, looking at the odd fancy looking rectangle.

"It's a PDA. A Personal Digital Assistant. It has a map, communications, I can call you on it, a few other things, I'll show you how to use it and we can keep in touch via text or voice call. It will make things a lot easier and a lot faster. I'll show you how it works." he said.

I nodded and followed him to the huge machine, Brenna, as he called it and waited for him to show me. But first... I had a question.

"I... Have a question before we start. the... machine. Brenna, was it? What exactly is it and how do you... control it?" I asked.

"Short answer? Brenna is a mechanoid. Robots, Automata, machines, golems. Constructs made to assist in our duties and operations. I'm sure you know about the concept of the Golem. These machines are similar. Mechanoids are the next step up from Golems, Robots and Automatrons. Golems are controlled by the will of their mages. Robots are controlled by a central computation network. A Mechanoid? Well..." He turned his head and pointed at the various pipes going into the back of his neck. "I control these ones with my brain. I see what she sees, she sees what I see, we share the same mind. In short, it's a psychic connection. Only a very few people in the galaxy, like myself, are compatible with the hardware needed to facilitate this. And these Mechanoids... they are grown, not built." he said.

"There is probably greater context but we lack the time... But that sounds more than just a little impressive. Golems you say? I know a few mages who use that magic often enough. Maybe there is something to learn from both sides here." I said.

"That is the hope. No matter where we go there's always something new to learn. I remember the planet of the Catpeople Sorcerers we found a decade ago. God that place was... Something else I tell you." he said.

"Did you say... Cat people? Felinid Sorcerers!? An entire PLANET of them?" I asked, my smile becoming very wide.

"Yes. I'm guessing you have them here too since you know of them?" He asked.

"Oh yes and they are treasured by the general populace, especially the nobility. But for some reason they are becoming vanishingly rare." I remarked.

"That is... Unacceptable. But, something to sort for a later date. Do you know of a place large enough to land that thing?" he said, pointing at the ship.

"That thing can land down here!?"

"Indeed it can." he said.

"Well... I can show a few spots. Will be a bit tight maybe but... There is a large clearing area here we use for festivals and whatnot. It... seems big enough to hold that thing. At least from what I can see from down here." I said.

"That's a good start. We will do that another day though, I doubt anybody will be happy to see a mile and a half long starship just casually park itself in their back garden. We can discuss this at length diplomatically. We can go our separate ways for now and use the PDA to organise. I have to report this and file paperwork, and more importantly inform The Queen. I need a reinforcement fleet in this system as fast as possible. Lots of work to do. In any case..." he said and extended a hand. "Pleasure to make thine acquaintance, My Lord. Let us talk business."

I shook his hand in response, and the first domino fell with that simple gesture.

The battle raged above the night skies as Tharg made his way through the forest of this odd planet. He was not used to green grass and vibrant trees, at least not this sparse and small in comparison to the skyscraping megatrees of his homeworld. Although he easily moved about them with a pace that would put his contemporaries to shame, the world he found himself on unsettled him. The grass was too... soft. The trees too.. calm.

Flashes of light sparked in the fleet above him. He knew it was just a training exercise to strengthen the Great Confederacy, but even so, the light display would make anyone who was none the wiser genuinely terrified.

"Such a strange planet we chose to host this battle on... I cannot stand these trees. They are too... Small." Tharg said idly as he trudged through the brush underfoot.

"Youre telling me!" A voice from his left yelled.

"Who goes there!?" Tharg barked and raised his sword.

"Over here! Look up." The voice replied.

Tharg looked around and eventually found the culprit, a Federation Olivarkian trapped up a tree, held in the branches by his parachute. The eight legged arachnoid apparently was so entangled by his emergency chute he couldn't get out.

Tharg shook his head. "Rough landing huh?"

"You could say that..." The arachnoid struggled in his binds a bit and got even more tangled. "Infernal contraption! This is worse than when the broodmothers got me last season!"

Tharg used his four arms to grapple around the tree trunk, and effortlessly climbed up to where he could reach the parachute. He used a free hand to cleave through the tangled mess with his sword and with a gentle thump, the trapped pilot hit the ground and rolled his way out of the threads.

"Thanks for that... Rear stabiliser took a direct hit from a destroyer's cannons. Accidental shot of course, don't think they were aiming for me, especially after all the pleading apologies, but it resulted in me going down anyway. Ship is that smoke plume over yonder. Name is Raxus." He said, using his back leg to scratch his thorax.

"Tharg, first Infantry platoon. My squad got hit by landmines. Well... I did, but, thankfully my sacrifice wasn't in vain." Tharg extended one of his two bulky digitigrade legs, revealing it coated in a thick purple dye.

"That must have hurt your pride a bit. Anyway, I'm out too. Ship got downed, couldn't get back, so technically I'm K.I.A. like you. Rules of the game. What are you doing all the way out here?" Raxus asked as he expertly disassembled his parachute canopy.

"I saw something on my way, a small clearing in the brush West of here. Fire of some kind, must be other officers that lost the battle and decided to set up a camp to see the night out. So, headed there. Vaguely in this direction." Tharg said as he pointed to a thinner area of the treeline.

"Oh good, maybe we will get some food or water. I couldn't save my ship obviously, and it's likely my ration blocks burned up. I'm good for now though. I'm not a complete idiot, I do have my survival satchel." Raxus said as he patted a small leatherbound sack on his thorax.

"Stating you are a 'complete idiot' would imply you were somewhat of an idiot to begin with, friend. Being a pilot is no simple feat. You just got unlucky." Tharg said with a smile.

Raxus returned the smile through his mandibles and the two trudged through the soft underbrush towards the vague direction of West. After a few minutes of walking the treeline thinned. Raxus' pedipalps began to pitter-patter with hunger and excitement as they both smelled something truly amazing wafting with the wind.

"By the Brood what a scent! What is that, and more importantly, can I have some!?" Raxus chirped excitedly as he effortlessly climbed a tree. He shot up too fast for Tharg to respond and looked ahead from one of the taller sturdy branches. "There! I see it! Glow of a fire, directly in front of us! There's… two figures there."

"Then we go. Safe spot to camp until dawn at least. But yes that... Oh my that smell. Wonder if maybe it's an Admiral or something because those definitely do not smell like normal rations. Come, let's go. See anything familiar?" Tharg asked.

"I see the tell-tale silhouette of a Saranian, the tall ones, and two other figures. One of whom is just visible in the treeline nearby. He seems to be hiding or something." Raxus replied and hopped down onto the ground.

"Well, at least we will be in pleasant company. The Saranian probably explains why I can hear music. Let's go, that smell is making me hungrier." Tharg said and picked up his pace as they both moved towards the site.

Eventually they found their way to the campsite and encountered another 'survivor', a Komorran Medicae that was covered head to toe in blue dye. He stood quietly hiding behind a tree and was almost scared out of his skin as Tharg and Raxus approached. He quietened them with his bony finger and stayed hidden.

"What... What's wrong here?" Tharg asked.

"That Saranian may be possessed or something. I can hear music but he hasn't moved a muscle since I arrived here. you know their reputation... I fear coming close." The medic replied. "Oh, by the way, Kal'Koss, Third Platoon. Hit by artillery. Obviously. Anybody injured or anything before we continue?"

"I am Tharg and this is Raxus. No damage to report. We aren't going to accomplish anything but since you fear the Saranai I will go ahead. I would prefer the comfort of that fire to these accursed trees." Tharg said and walked forward.

Raxus and Kal'Koss stayed behind the tree line. Tharg walked up and as he opened his mouth to speak, the Saranai officers hand shot up and silenced him. the hand then gestured to the bench nearby, made of a sawn log and some rocks. Tharg turned to the other two and gestured for them to come through. Tharg sat on the chair and directed his attention to what was making the music. His heart started racing, his eyes shot open in shock and his jaw opened so violently one would think it had dislocated.

Sitting there calmly, in dead silence with intense focus was a Terran. An actual, living, breathing, real Terran, a human, carefully playing to the Muse with an acoustic guitar. The other two arrived and suffered roughly the same reaction as they sat down and paid attention. The Saranai sat silent, transfixed by the sight of the human casually creating a beautiful melody with her swift and dexterous fingertips. The human ignored the four men and sat there in song for another few minutes, just enjoying the peace of the moment as the night sky lit up with a volley of training laser fire from a passing battleship.

Streaks of purple, blue and white light criss-crossed above them, illuminating the surrounding area in a beautiful kaleidoscope of colour, all to a soft melodious song that seemed to convey a feeling of wonder and sorrow. Kal'Koss had closed his eyes and was swaying to the music, lost in the moment as his race often did. The Saranian simply stared blankly, unmoving, unflinching, dead silent. Tharg just looked around him, looking for traces of the gigantic abominations humans usually use for their starships and finding nothing of note, not even a shuttle parked in the treeline. Raxus however was more concerned over the pot on the campfire which was bubbling gently with a strangely delicious looking confection in it.

Her music stopped suddenly and without warning snapping all the men out of their daze. She gently put her guitar down and walked over to the fire, grabbing a large camping tool, something like an oversized soup spoon, and stirred the pot. The action made the smell intensify and made Raxus start openly drooling in response. She smiled, a small, gentle smile, and walked over to a backpack she had nearby. She procured a stack of bowls and some spoons, then without a word returned to the campfire.

The four men questioned reality at this point, wondering what was going on as she filled the four bowls with what was clearly food. She then walked up to each soldier, and handed them a bowl and spoon. The Saranian's eyes visibly widened at the event, his body visibly shaking from a seemingly gargantuan effort to not panic as she got close enough he could hear her gently humming the same tune she was playing. Tharg's encounter was of a more potent nature as she handed him a bowl, he could feel the warmth radiating from her. The legendary body heat that humans produced, now close enough to feel for himself. Kal'Koss squeaked in terror as he was handed his bowl. She giggled, she actually laughed and made him come out of the safety of his jacket to eat. Raxus by now was too far gone, entranced by the meal and to him the Human in front of him was a passing thought as he thankfully took it and started to nibble at it.

She simply shrugged and returned to her seat opposite them, resuming her play in-between mouthfuls of food. The food itself was a thing the galaxy recognised as 'gumbo'. A thick, rich palate of flavours and meats, vegetables and a tasty sauce. Raxus gobbled his up with careless abandon, and eventually flopped down to rest, the exhaustion of being shot down finally getting to him. Tharg ate his with care, slowly and methodically, savouring what was likely one of the finest meals he would eat in his lifetime. Once he had tested it, Kal'Koss devoured his meal with careless abandon, and licked the bowl and utensils clean in a most ungentlemanly manner.

The men all finished their meals and sat there, the crackling fire, bubbling gumbo and the sweet melody of the guitar all that mattered. The four men sat there and watched as the human seemingly practised a new song on the instrument.

The first time in over five centuries a human had been seen, and here she was, no ship, no weapons, no gigastructures encompassing black holes, just a single woman, with a love for music and tasty food. The first time any human had been seen in the flesh, alive at least, since they all vanished from the Galaxy over five centuries prior. No warning, no question, one day, they were just gone. Every ship had left, every man, woman and child, gone. By the time the Galaxy had noticed, it was far too late.

Their drydocks disassembled and gone, colonies empty and an in-progress Dyson Swarm left abandoned, only to be claimed by the Council Of Elders as a Holy Relic some years after. Most human worlds and human industries were also claimed as such, and quickly became massive factories that produced some of the very same ships floating above them, or became holy Sites by the Galactic Church.

The four men sat there in silence as flashes of light illuminated the group from the battle above. What seemed an eternity passed as they simply listened to her music. Eventually she stopped, put her guitar down and helped herself to more Gumbo. She looked at all four of them, a smile crossing her lips as she ate.

The silence was eventually broken by the Saranian. He spoke, hoarse, as if his voice was escaping him. "My people revere your race as Gods. It was you who made the Ancient Rift networks that opened the stars up to us. It was you that formed the Confederacy. How are you here? Are you real?"

She smiled at him. She said nothing, but just smiled and continued eating her meal. When she was done, she reached into her backpack and handed the Saranian a data slate, a very elaborate looking one. She said nothing and simply resumed practising with her guitar. The Saranian carefully secured the data slate in his bag before resuming his astonished stare as she played. Her song reached a blissful melody, now fully developed into an actual song that all four men began to sway to involuntarily.

Tharg, in the midst of all this, had started a recording on the camera mounted in his helmet and remembered he had the ability to broadcast a live feed to the fleet. He did so, a short but noticeable beep heard from his helmet snapping the group out of their daze. She didn't seem to notice, and just kept playing. Tharg let the song continue for a half hour. By this point, the entire battle above had come to a screeching halt, thousands of eyes now fixed on the campsite and dozens of warships sat directly above them, scanning, looking and recording. A momentous occasion.

The music was enchanting, beautiful, cheerful and full of hope. She stopped her guitar playing, waved at something behind them with a happy smile and resumed her melody. Tharg jumped out of his seat, nearly his own skin as he saw the imposing sight of one of the legendary super-warriors, the human Legionnaires approaching the campsite. He approached her and tapped his foot impatiently at her. She shrugged with a smile and put her things away before standing up to greet him. He glared at her.

"What? I was hungry and I needed the practise!" She barked and innocently batted her eyelashes at him.

He grumbled, shook his head and gently tapped her nose with a finger before both of them vanished in a flash of light.

"They can teleport now!?" Tharg barked.

"Apparently so..." The Saranian said as he retrieved the data slate he was given. He activated it and read through it for a few moments. "Well that explains a lot..."

"What? What!? What is it!?" Raxus asked as he scrambled towards him.

"This data slate tells me everything... The humans... This explains so much. And... Wait... Hold on! These... These are the coordinates to the human home star system... THESE ARE THE COORDINATES TO SOL!!!" He bellowed in shock.

Tharg rushed over and looked at it, giving his camera feed a good look at it too. Sure enough, it gave exact coordinates of the human home star system, as well as coordinates for one of the galaxy's farthest outer rim systems.

"This is impossible... Well actually it isn't, we know how crazy they are..." Raxus said, to an approving nod from everyone else. "But according to this, the humans are NOT native to this galaxy! Does… Does this mean we were just invited to tea in their home?!"

"I can only imagine the insanity they have crafted... Look what they did with the few places they built here... Black hole cannons, mega shipyards, titans, attack moons, factory worlds... Imagine what their own origin galaxy looks like!" The Saranian yelled.

The Radio chatter became swamped with Saranian prayers and sermons. It was clear the galaxy at large had a new objective - Find Sol.

"Hold on... What's with the campfire? What's with the guitar? And the gumbo? How does this make any sense?" Kal'Koss asked.

"Since when did anything the Terrans do ever make any sense at all? Why should this be any different?" Tharg said.

Kal went a bit stiff and rolled his eye stalks. "That... is a good point. But why give us this information? Why now?"

"Who knows, and who cares! Come my brethren, The Holy Star is calling! We must make haste! Grab the rest of the Holy Gumbo and bring it with us! We have a galaxy to cross!" The Saranian yelled in excitement.

"'Holy Gumbo' he says... Well... It was pretty damn delicious. Maybe he has a point." Raxus said with a  shrug.

"Enough! Come brothers TO SOL!"

Praxxtyl The Victorious is a very strange creature. A genius, a strategist, a monster, depending on who you ask, in what context. To most, he is the galaxy's First Contact ambassador. A living legend who has been directly responsible for expanding both eth galaxy and the Empire as a whole. To the general public, he is Praxxtyl The Victorious - Knower Of All Things Knowable. Confounder Of the un-Confoundable. The Great Hero Of the Scarrian Blitz. To the general public, he is a hero and he is trusted with the job of finding new races to fill the Empires ranks. A man who has never lost, hence the name.

To any who actually know him, he is an irritating twit with a superiority complex and an ego that outsizes most gas giants.

Nobody says it to his face of course, but the man does have a strange gift for the gab, an enigmatic mind that seems to defy the laws of enigma. He can lie his way out of a maximum security prison and lie his way into a Kings Bedchambers to walk away with all the Queens jewels. He can coerce an insect into refusing to eat until it starves, and convince a fish that being cooked and eaten is a good idea. His mind games and silly proxy conversations - even on his opponents terms - usually come out with him as the victor.

All a distraction of course. The imperial Fleet would use the opportunity to wander in the back way and prepare for violence or intimidation. Our numbers and raft would usually bear similar results, if he didn't somehow groxcrap them into surrendering.

Like he usually did.

Something about this time felt off though. Strange creatures, these 'humans'. Oddly compelling ape-like omnivores, looked pretty hardy for bipeds. This one was a male. A... very bulky one. We had made contact eagerly and one was now on a vid-screen glaring at Praxxtyl with an air of mild irritation, as if he had something more important to do.

Cant say I blamed him honestly.

"SO, Human... you seem like a hardy people, a good people. I can guarantee that submission to the empire would-"

"No." The human said, interrupting Praxxtyl's well practised speech.

Praxxtyl simply smiled and laughed, his usual sinister, intimidating smile. "That's what they ALL said! Our empire spans half the galaxy with that same word one way or another. The Bakandi said no. The Sokoival said No. The Thrakk said No. You will end up the same way they all did!" He boasted proudly.

"I said no." The human simply replied with a coldness I had never heard before.

"You irritate me whelp. You vex me greatly. Can we not just do this the easy way for once? Would it be SO hard to just say yes and join us, than it would be to suffer meaningless death at the Empire's hands!? Come on, humans. Clearly you are intelligent, and see the folly." Praxxtyl barked.

"I see the reserve fleet you have approaching from the sun. Unfortunately for them that place has limpet mines. If I were you I would get those boys out of there before they trip over the wire and get a claymore charge to the face." The human replied, again, it possessed a coldness I had never heard before. Something here was wrong. Different.

I pounced and checked my fleet comms. their sensors were picking something up. By the time I ordered a sweep, followed by a hasty retreat, several ships suffered some structural damage from explosive charges that magnetised to their hulls. I ordered a retreat and for them to re-join the main formation, sparing the damaged ships.

Praxxtyl jumped on this event with fervour. "It seems we failed to fall for your trap human. You value your boasting too much, you gave us an out."

"No, not really. I just need that minefield for something more dangerous than you. Pain in the ass to replace those things. More than you are worth." The human shrugged, staring straight into Praxxty's soul as he said that.

"No matter. We have MILLIONS of ships. You are no trouble at all. Surrender sooner rather than later human. You test my patience." Praxxtyl barked back.

The human raised a brow and glared at Praxxtyl with a kind of malice that made my bones shiver. "We've faced worse than you and made it out alive. You aren't different from the other twenty something empires that have wandered in and spat out of their noise hole at us. Frankly I would rather you go back to whatever hole you came from and minded your own business. We are busy here and we don't want an unnecessary waste of life."

Praxxtyl maintained his dignity, gaining an even harder smirk of superiority. "A waste of life would be us wiping your species off the galactic map in the Empire's name."

"So says the guy whose ships are twice as slow and half the size. Let's see how you actually work." He said and pushed a button on his console.

"My Lord! Multiple dreadnought class warp signatures detected!" My ensign yelled from his console.

And sure enough, the pointy, angular visages of a dozen Dreadnought class warships and their support fleet suddenly broke through the fabric of reality and made themselves known. A few of my officers audibly gasped at the sight of the massive beasts and the some twenty smaller, but still heavily armed warships.

"Hint. Those aren't dreadnoughts. They're Cruisers. Now leave. We have other things to consider besides your warmongering." The human barked.

Praxxtyl once again remained undaunted. "How nice of you to show your assets to the galaxy so soon."

"This ant showing my hand jackass, this is the calm before the storm. This is the carrot on the end of the stick. Now buzz off." The human replied.

"So eager to see us off, how odd. Fear the Empires might do we? They all do! But I see you are a man of great strength. Perhaps a test of the mind instead?" Praxxtyl asked boastfully, pounding his chest.

The humans tone shifted, mockingly copying Praxxtyl's tone and accent. "Suddenly the bloviating ends and threats of violence dissipate, clouded by rhetoric and deflection. Methinks the boastful one sees he will not survive this engagement, wrath of the Empire or not. Mayhap the fair child would wonder if a trick of the mind or gift of gab could distract while a message is sent? Okay then shorty, spit it out. Mind game. Let's go."

For the first time since I have known him Praxxtyl became flustered and short of patience. This was... was this what I was so concerned about? Was THIS the foreboding I was thinking of?

"You test my patience but fine. Let's do it your way. I'll let you dictate the terms then since you seem so confident." Praxxtyl said, quickly regaining his composure.

"For good reason. Your name again for the record? I kind of forgot. Didn't know it was important. Didn't care." the human replied with a subtle smile.

"MY NAME IS PRAXXTYL THE VICTORIOUS! I AM HE WHO NEVER LOSES! I AM THE WORD OF THE EMPIRE!"

"Lower your damn voice please. Jeez... Worse than a politician with a scandal. SO... We're going to play a game okay? If I win, you leave. If I lose, you do... whatever you do I guess. I dunno. Cant surrender, it aint my call, but maybe you can help yourself to the mess hall." The human replied with a shrug.

"I shall dictate the terms of this system's surrender when I have won our duel human." Praxxtyl barked angrily.

"My god the ego of this guy... Again, it aint my call, I CANT surrender. I'm not high up enough of the ladder to make that decision. But, you win, I can put you in touch with those that do. They might be more reasonable." The human just shrugged.

"Then let us play your mind game. You first." Praxxtyl said. I could see the smirk on his face building.

"Okay then." The human smiled and leaned into the camera. "The Game."

We glared at him. "What are-"

"We just lost. The Game is over and we just lost. Twice." He replied smiling.

"How can I lose The Game? you haven't explained its rules!" Praxxtyl barked.

"Rule number one. Everyone everywhere who knows about The Game, is actively playing it all the time without question. You cannot opt out or stop playing. Once you know, you cannot un-know. It's like a secret of the universe, screaming from the abyss straight into your soul. You just lost The Game again." the human said, the smirk on his face getting larger.

Praxxtyl glared at the human and visibly fumed. "Now you look here human-"

"Rule number two. If you think about it, you lose. Every time you think of The Game, or are reminded of The Game, you lose The Game. Like death, life, the meaning of the universe. It is like a secret the Gods forgot to forget. They, too, lost The Game." The human said, his face now contorted into one of the most sadistic smiles I have ever seen.

"How can the Gods lose The Game?" Praxxtyl asked, looking almost lost.

"Rule number three. Whenever you lose The Game, which we did, we must announce it. If you fail to announce it, you lose twice. You have to share the misery, that's the rule. I just Lost The game too. I announced it. You didn't. So I didn't lose as much as you did just then. We both still lost. But I didn't lose as bad as you." The human said with the smuggest expression ever.

And thus came the moment when I saw Praxxtyl The Victorious' smile falter and his resolve crumble. "What kind of idiot creates something he can't win?"

"We didn't create The Game, the universe did. It's like the equivalent of an existential crisis. Its like asking 'Is there a God?' while talking to god. And then that God saying there is no God. Or something, I don't really know. There is no real answer but that's the one I prefer." The human said with a shrug.

"I don't like The Game." Praxxtyl said sadly.

"Too bad. I don't either, ignorance is bliss after all. Once you know about The Game, you're stuck playing it for the rest of your life, want it or not. You cant opt out, you cant stop playing. once you know, you know forever, and you can't un-know. And every time you are reminded of the Game, you lose it. That's just how it works." He replied coldly.

"How can I win?" Praxxtyl asked.

"You can't. That's the rule of The Game. You can't un-play The Game when you start. It's impossible." the human said.

"Wait... you lost The Game too?" Praxxtyl said, perking up slightly.

"Yes I know I lost The Game. Again, not as much as you, because I acknowledged it. You didn't, so you lost twice every time I lost once. I think. I kind of lost count." The human replied, again shrugging like this was entirely normal.

Praxxtyl stood there in shocked silence for a few moments. His face going through varying emotions from shock, to rage, to fear, to sorrow. He stood there, just staring at the human. "How do I win?"

"You can't. That's the rule."

Praxxtyl stood still, then collapsed onto the floor weeping like a child that had just lost his favourite toy. "I CANT LOSE! I NEVER LOSE!"

"And there it is." The human rolled his eyes and watched. "Every damn time."

It was now I decided to interject. "Pardon me but this sounds rather ridiculous, even by the standards of the galaxy as a whole. Is there ANY way around this?" I asked, pleadingly.

"Whos asking?" the human asked with a furrowed brow.

"The guy who is going to have to deal with this tantrum for the next few decades. Please just calm him down." I said, again, giving my best pleading and begging face.

He looked at me and sighed. "There is no way to win... But there is a way to not lose." he said.

"Please, go on. For the LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SACRED please go on." I said, yelling above the sound of the wailing.

"Best way to avoid losing The Game like you just did? Do something else. The more you are doing something else, you don't think of The Game. If you don't think about it or remind yourself of it, you can't lose. There is no win state, but you can make it so there's no lose state. Simple as." He replied calmly.

"Seriously?"

"Yep. I can't say much else. Can you go away now? Do something else and you won't get reminded of The Game. See? We both lost again." The human said.

Praxxtyl wailed again and I rolled my eye stalks at the provocation. "Why are you so earnest in making us leave human?"

"Besides the whole 'this is my home, get out' bit? We are actively at war with a creature called the Sun Eater. It's a massive leviathan class entity that is consuming stellar matter and collapsing star systems, so we set a trap in this very system to try and finish it off." He said.

Praxxtyl and the whole crew stopped what they were doing and snapped to attention at that statement. "That... seems like pertinent information..." I said.

The human glared at Praxxtyl and smiled. "Well I couldn't get a word in could I with the sound of this dude's ego scraping against the walls! If I were you I'd start prepping for FTL now. Spool up your drives and exit stage left sharpish. Fifth fleet is almost here."

"Did he say, Sun Eater?"

Nobody could respond as the Ensigns console lit up with massed energy readings. "Unknown entity appearing from FTL wormhole breach! Energy signature is off the charts!" he yelled.

"Yeah, that would be the Sun Eater. Please leave. Unless you want to bring your laser cannons to bear against it, I would suggest you hightail it out of here." He said.

"FULL RETREAT! ALL SHIPS RETURN TO DRYDOCK!" I yelled into our fleet comms.

As the fleet began to fall back and our drives charged, the human fleet entered the system. Praxxtyl and I shared the same expression of shocked horror when we saw the some two hundred ships of Dreadnought, Titan and Juggernaught class swarm the system with weapons that could easily wipe out a dozen Imperial fleets several times over. We shared a glance and noted how we may have lost the mind game, but at least we didn't lose to that damn warship fleet. We took some pictures and recorded what recon data we could.

Eventually we went to the edge of the star system and our detectors overloaded at the massive worm-like creature known as the Sun Eater appeared in the system, immediately bombarded by a hail of cannon fire from the human fleet. We watched and recorded the barrage...

"Ensign, prepare a full report. Praxxtyl and I need to talk. It seems these 'humans' are considerably more dangerous than anticipated and we may need to stop a diplomatic incident. The human seemed to find it funny though so... we may take that under advisement and make a joke out of it. I don't know about anyone here, but I do NOT want to fight a war against an empire that uses ships like THAT. get us out of here." I said.

I got a resounding nod of approval and agreement, and we left the system.

I sat on the floor, still cradling my four legs in terror. The officers were still trying to get my witness statement out of me and it wasn't going well owing to their highly judgemental expressions. One detective, and one patrolman. The clean-up crews were still working, cleaning up the mess from the Sabak attack only a day earlier. I was apparently the missing piece of the puzzle the officers needed, and I was too busy trying to avoid heart palpitations to help with their investigation.

"Corvakk thran, there is no reason to be scared anymore. The Sabak have been taken care of and miraculously, no casualties either. It's quite an event. One for the record books." The detective said.

I snapped my head towards him. "YOU THINK I'M SCARED OF THOSE USELESS MANIACS ANYMORE!?" I bellowed angrily and snapped to my feet.

"Woah! Stop! Okay! Please calm the hell down! For all our sakes please. Just... talk about it, walk us through it. Maybe we can understand. Help us, help you." The patrolman replied, trying to placate me by waving his claws defensively.

I took a deep, frustratingly terrified breath and tried at least vaguely to regain my composure. Eventually I calmed down enough to start a productive conversation. At least in my eyes anyway. I was apparently still flailing about in terror. In my opinion after what I saw, a valid response.

"Okay... So there were these humans..." I said with a shudder.

"Humans? You mean the new race from the Far East? I didn't know they were around. Learn something new every day." The Patrolman said, scribbling something in his notepad.

"Four of them. I can tell you some names based on some... random conversations I heard. Jerry, Elias, Marcus and Jose. Jerry I think had strange orange hair, Marcus was the black haired one in the scary jacket, Jose was... very quiet, like the world owed him silence. And the guy Elias had dark brown skin like tree bark." I said.

The detective nodded and wrote something down. "That was what I was hoping for, suspect descriptions. How did they attack with the Sabak then?"

"Attack? WITH the SABAK!? FOLLISH FOOL! THEY WERE THE ONES RESPONSIBLE FOR TAKING THEM ALL DOWN!" I bellowed angrily, my tone seeming far too terrified for such a scene.

The patrolman once again raised his claws. "Okay! Okay! You aren't giving us anything we can actually work with! I have to make assumptions otherwise we aren't going anywhere."

I grabbed my head and tried to calm myself down. It worked... enough.

"Right. I was in the main department store, the one second floor to the left. The one with the absurdly cheerful colour palette? That one. I had heard a commotion and was wondering about what was going on. All of a sudden, I am grabbed, dragged back in the store and I hear someone - who I now recognise as the one called Elias - yell at me to get inside and hide. I do so. Next thing I know there's an explosion at the main kiosk and the store's windows crack." I said.

The patrolman nodded and scribbled as I spoke. "That corroborates the tenant next door's story. Luckily she wasn't on station at the kiosk when it blew. Please continue."

I shuddered and resumed, taking a deep breath. "The Sabak started to attack and the humans all grabbed various shelves and things to use as makeshift barricades. To be precise, they worked in concert to shore up the door and front windows, creating a makeshift barricade consisting of the reinforced steel racks used for housing Marakoi Priesthood Robes." I said.

This one caught their attention. "Uhh… those are a tonne each. Are you earnest in this claim?"

"If I was not certain I WOULD NOT BE RELAYING IT!!!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the area.

"If you do not stop yelling I will have to place you under arrest for violation of public decency sir, calm the absolute hell down!" The Patrolman barked.

That finally made me cool off, the threat of being in a cell with one of those crazy cultists definitely made my brain reset. "I'm… I'm sorry. I'm still very... Oh gods we are in so much trouble..."

"Just try to relax and focus. Please continue." The Detective asked.

I breathed heavily for a few moments and resumed. "The humans, having successfully barricaded the store and keeping the Sabak cultists out, now started to figure out what to do. I was able to hide in one of the tall clothing racks and my eye stalks could easily be used to watch what was going on. It seemed Marcus was the one leading the charge on what they were doing. I heard him say 'Fan out, find whatever you can! Remember the Christmas office party last year? See if we can make it lethal!' And they all started rummaging about."

They both scribbled in their notes and nodded. "Go on."

"Eventually they came up with solutions. They didn't do anything yet, they just gathered together nearby and started talking about what they found. Marcus said something about pool balls and a leaf blower in the tools section. Jerry said something about a taser. Marcus spoke about a thing called a crossbow. And Jose just said 'Molotovs'. They all nodded, and just like that, got to work." I said.

The two looked at me with tilted heads. "Work? What do you mean by that exactly?"

I laughed, half heartedly in pain and terror, somewhat psychotically and tried to breathe through the panic. "Jose was the first to arrive, wearing a makeshift belt made out of ripped cloths for the Thousand Pocketed Imbakandi, you know the ones, the shifty ones. In each pocket he carried a ball of glass, what looked like one of the Saranai ceremonial smashing globes, filled with a strange foul smelling liquid and rags capping them. Marcus appeared shortly after and appeared to be holding some kind of projectile weapon. This weapon looked like a ceremonial bow with a gun-like mechanism on its underside, using sharpened Mokoi candle sticks as ammunition. Jerry was the worst, he carried a makeshift backpack full of makeshift batteries he assembled, and a long weapon he called a 'Taser'. Then Marcus appeared holding a Bakandi Pneumatic Cleaner, with a lot of pipes placed where there should be no pipes, with a backpack full of Ceremonial throwing Balls." I said.

They both gained shocked looks on their faces. "Those... fit the descriptions of devices we saw from one of the security cameras recovered from the scene. Unfortunately we couldn't get anything from the incident itself. The Sabak hacked the network. Please... continue. Did you see how they worked?"

I laughed psychotically again. "’See how they worked,’ he says. I shall have NIGHTMARES for the rest of my days with the madness those monsters unleashed!" I took deep breaths and tried to calm down. Eventually I did. "The Sabak were not done and three cultists broke the barrier apart and got in the store. We all screamed. Jose just stood there silent. He reached into a pocket, grabbed an orb, lit the small rag and tossed it onto the Sabak trio that were taunting him. The bottle hit them, shattered. And by the Gods the screaming I will never forget as those three bastards burst into flames! He threw two more for good measure and coated all three of the cultists in fire. the screaming... I wont forget that."

The pair shared a terrified look and scribbled in their notes. "That... explains the burn victims, scorch marks and fifteen inflamed Sabak cultists... Some kind of handheld fire based weapon."

"I followed them. Oh I followed them." I said, getting their attention. "I have no idea what madness struck me but I followed them until they evacuated the facility. I found one of those balls left behind, still intact. A Celebration ball with its cap removed, the confetti emptied and replaced with lamp oil. A small rag acting as an ignition source. 'Molotov' Jose said. Molotov." I shuddered, thinking of the implications that there might be ACTUAL military variants of this weapon.

"And how did you-"

"AND THEN... Then came Jerry with that... The WORST of it all. Two Sabak came from the other end of the store and charged him. The... the screams as he discharged his makeshift weapon. The taser. I found it and understood why the Sabak collapsed to the floor convulsing like one of their odd rituals, screaming to the high heavens for their God to kill them. The taser... it was made of small energy packs hastily garbled together with parts from a children's electrical toy, using springs and some kind of coil wire to launch two projectiles connected to the cells. He effectively electrocuted them from range!" I yelled, sheer unadulterated terror in my voice.

The Patrolman shuffled uncomfortably and looked at something on his datapad, probably looking at the security footage to see the device. “That explains the… strange electrocutions we found.”

"Then came Marcus around the corner, his 'crossbow' in hand. Jose used his flame weapon to confuse the Sabak as more cultists poured into the area. I have never seen such precision from a professional soldier, let alone a random man with a makeshift weapon! He expended all of the twenty one 'bolts' he made. Every. Single. One. A shot right to the face and chest. Clean kill, every time. I found the crossbow. It was a Makadi Ceremonial Bow, cheaply made but sturdy, hastily tied with elastic tape and adhesive bands to a makeshift trigger made from a vacuum handle. The bolts? Carved from candles." I said.

The detective shuffled uncomfortably this time. "That... That's forty one Sabak with head and chest damage from candles accounted for... He must have made more bolts I guess."

"Oh he did... He did. He used a knife from the kitchen area to carve bolts as he walked." I said, shuddering. I sat there quiet for a moment or two and tried to calm down. It wasn't working, but I carried on. "Finally, Elias. He used it like a cannon. A menagerie of pipes, a secondary motor hastily tied with cables and rope to a backpack. He would shove a ball down the main nozzle, then aim it. I would hear that terrible whine of the electrical motor, then after a second or two, the ball would come blasting out fast enough that sometimes it would make a noise like a gun. No bastard would survive that. I saw one Sabak get the top of his head cracked open like a bad shell on a Makadi."

The Makadi patrolman in front of me decidedly shuffled even more uncomfortably in his seat, nervously pinching his claws. "That explains the... excessive blunt force trauma on the men on the first floor."

I held my head in my hands and sobbed for a few moments. "A precision long weapon made of office supplies, using candles as ammunition. A lethal electrical weapon made of toys and expendable energy cells with random wires. A deadly incendiary weapon made from glass baubles, rags and lamp oil! LAMP OIL! And a weapon that can crack the sound barrier with enough force to shatter bone plates on Sabak warriors... Made from a commercial grade gardening tool and a few pipes, with play balls from an outdated party game."

The realization finally hit them, and their faces now displayed the same panic stricken terror I had.

"YOU FEEL IT TOO DONT YOU!? Now you understand why I am so STRESSED. Think of it! THINK! If these monstrous creatures could create that kind of lethal weaponry out of gardening tools, toys and souvenir items, then what kinds of horrendous abominations could a trained military or police force use!?" I bellowed at them.

Both men glared at me in sheer terror and sat there with their jaws open for a few minutes. Eventually the Patrolman put his notebook down, then crawled underneath the table. "Just... Give me a minute."

"Any room under there for me?" The detective asked.

"Find your own hiding place!" He bellowed back.

I returned to my spot in the corner and resumed my terrified praying. What the hell did the galaxy unleash on us, and what the hell did we do to deserve it? I would gladly take the Sabak over ever having to fight against them.

Gods save us all.

(( PART 4 - https://www.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1toh1xh/of_mages_and_magic_a_culture_shock_tale_prologue/ ))

The bar on the shoreline bustled and hustled, everyone going about their business but with a more frantic and determined manner. The Taverns across the entire province were doing better business than they had in decades, the arrival of nobility and royalty giving a huge boost to their local economy. In a back corner, relegated to five tables, was a salty sea dog Captain and his crew, resting after a day working in the docks. Captain Edward James Leech sat on a barstool unashamedly staring at the barmaids chest while his men casually had a short game of Liar's Dice with a few Imperial Silver coins at stake.

The hustle of the evening air suddenly came to an end as the tavern's door flew open, three of the King's personal Praetorian Guard appeared in the doorway. "ALL RISE!!"

The tavern, some of whom were not exactly reputable persons, shot up from their seats and hid behind whoever they could to pretend to be invisible. Then Marcus walked in through the door, glaring at the Praetorians who were just a bit too satisfied with themselves as he walked towards the good Captain.

"Captain Edward! Good to see you again! I hope your fortunes changed after our encounter?" Marcus bellowed as he grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously.

Edward seemed a bit befuddled as to what was going on. "Erm... Marcus... Yes good to... see you again... unfortunately no we haven't been able to get back to the sea as of yet. It's been an interesting time."

Marcus smiled with genuine warmth. "Then how would you like to crew MY new ship? I need a seasoned veteran to helm the Empire's new treasure, and you were the best I could think of."

Edward looked at Marcus like he had just kicked a puppy. "ME? What about Sir Admiral Windstead!?"

"He's busy in Porto Alberta dealing with a recent Kraken problem. Big Reginald, I believe, is what the sailors call him."

"Oh that explains it. Big Reginald eh? Been a while since I've heard his name. Fair enough. What about Captain Meridian of The Queen Juno?" Edward replied.

Marcus scoffed. "I already considered all the fine officers in the Imperial Navy and they don't have the kind of... adaptability I'm looking for in a crew. One that's used to strange and unusual situations. I mean, seriously. When is the last time you ever heard of a captains ship going down and all men choosing to seek out local adventurers to go dungeon delving to get the coin to replace it? Not once before you or your men. I would say that counts more than most Imperial officers. Good men though they are, their doctrines leave them... A bit too rigid for what I have to deal with. So how about it?"

Edward looked at his men, they all gave him the same look. "How much are we getting paid for this job? My men need a stable wage I'm afraid.."

One of the Praetorians spoke up. "Official orders direct from His Majesty the King, five Imperial Gold coins as a signup bonus for each member of the crew, and a standard fare of twenty five Silver Eagles per month, each."

Edward looked at his men. They looked at each other, then shared the same smile as they all yelled 'HELL YES!' all at once. "There you have it sirrah. We're on board, so to speak."

"Fantastic! Gather your men, I will meet you outside. Thy chariot awaits." Marcus said with a smirk and left.

One of the Praetorians marched up to the counter and set a gold coin down. "Sorry for the interruption lads! Have one on the Crown!"

The tavern let out a gleeful cry of celebration and everyone calmed down. The Good Captain however, wasn't so happy on account of the fact he was now face to face with a Royal Dragon and their Lizardmen Kin the Draconites. The Royal Retinue in the flesh, scale and armour plating. Several of the larger, more intimidating Dragons, each one fitted with saddles and such for passenger transport. Necessary for all of the captains thirty men.

"Uhhh… Marcus... Is there anything I'm missing here... I mean... The Royal Revue is-"

"That's Prince Marcus Dakkarian, actually, and this is important enough we have to move fast. Come hither, and... strap in. Try not to think about the ground." Marcus replied with a sly smile.

The captain and his men were unable to do much in the way of questioning his orders as the Praetorians and Paladins hastily shoved the men into their seats. The whole town was out in force to watch the spectacle unfold as a bunch of crusty sailors were casually loaded into the Royal Revue's personal retinue. The sight would stir up some very interesting gossip in the coming weeks, and the townsfolk as well as observing captains and ships on the shoreline watched as the mighty dragon's wings flapped hard sending them skywards. It was a short trip to be certain but most men held their breakfast and their nerves and many kissed the ground as they landed on it.

The crowd that greeted them was of a menagerie of faces and classes, all gathered in concert as the King's behest for what would be a very difficult undertaking. Leonidas the king himself, stood by a planners table with many members of local guilds wearing not his Royal Robes but rather an Artificers cloak and blacksmiths apron. Behind them, perched atop a large stone block, sat the imposing façade of a prototype locomotive actively being swarmed by smiths and engineers. It was no secret that Leonidas was a craftsman. Only an average one to be certain, but a man of the craft nonetheless. He broke his talk with the guildmasters and marched towards Edward and his terrified crew. They all snapped to attention, hands in salute, but legs like jelly.

"Captain Edward James Leech. My son has told me many stories about your exploits. Good to finally see the man behind the tales face to face." Leonidas said casually and shook the Captain's hand.

Edward was at a loss for words, as were many of his crew who were barely hanging on. "Th-thank you, your majesty... I... uhhh…"

"Formalities later. First, we have business. I heard that once upon your youth you served on board one of the Divinian Airships, yes?"

"Oh yes, the Dauntless. Only a small frigate to be certain, but a fine vessel." Edward replied.

Leonidas let out a hearty, joyful laugh and turned the Captain towards the destroyer. The ship itself was now elevated several dozen feet above the ground by massive docking clamps and mechanical cranes, the hangar doors open and the gaping maw of the drydock now filled with life as the Scribes and Scholars frantically tried to catalogue everything they could see.

"How in the blue blazing ballsacks did I miss THAT coming in!?" Edward yelled, alerting the rest of the crew to the massive machine. "What even is that!?"

"The new warship you will be serving on as its full time crew, of course. I have yet to name her. But, that is for when we actually know more about her. For the moment, she is grounded, until we are sure she won't be a danger. That is why I need you." Leonidas said.

The two men regarded each other for a moment. "Your Majesty... I am but a humble captain of a now sunken Merchant vessel... Isn't this about as far above my station as it gets?" He asked.

Leonidas let out another laugh, this one more mocking. "Do not sell yourself short Edward. I have heard and been able to corroborate many tales of your deeds. Surviving a Kraken attack and successfully fighting it off. Surviving a dozen different raids from pirates and brigands across the Eight Seas, all while never losing a man at sea. Using your ship's powder magazine to kill a Great Whale? Now THAT is genius. Silly, but genius. Yours is the brand of crazy I need at this point. As for why? Christina recommended you, and I trust her wholeheartedly. In any case, Captain. Come hither, I need to explain your duties."

Leonidas was regarding him less like a king and a sea captain, and more like an old friend. Both men joined the guildsmen at the table and started discussing recent events. The crew wandered around the docks under supervision from the Praetorians and paladins. Marcus and Christina sat at a table with the others in the party, along with the White Tigress Lira, who surprisingly had the tiny wood elf Lily in her lap. The atmosphere was strangely calm despite the circumstances.

The arrival of a Carriage however changed that. It was a very distinct carriage, a very well known carriage. Drawn by four white horses, led by a Great Jackal, it was large, decorated with black lace, scarlet red fabrics and plating, all made of a very rare type of wood called Witchwood. The very distinct makeup of a carriage owned by the so-called Sisters Of Serenity, one of the Imperial Churches' many branches. Marcus instinctively recoiled at the sight of it as it trundled in and was stopped by the Praetorian Guardsmen on station.

The men spoke to whoever was in the carriage and an odd tension arose. Eventually Queen Harradia noticed the commotion and made her way towards it, one of her dragons following closely. She spoke to whoever was in the carriage and the conversation apparently got a bit heated, but not in a hostile way. She directed the carriage towards her tent where she could speak in person, and nobody could see who was there as the Dragon obscured it all. The people all around started to mutter and gossip as to the reasoning behind their arrival and for a few hours, everything carried on.

Edward and Leonidas wandered over to where Marcus' party was and sat down.

"So... Any ideas on where to start Marcus?" Edward asked.

Marcus' eyes glistened, his head going rigid for a split second as the ship beamed information into his mind directly. "I will need to use the drydock to remake the ship's interior. It is modular apparently. Some modules are stored below the Drydock. I can refit it to accommodate a full crew and then some. Apparently without sacrificing its capabilities. I will need... There are complications from what I can see. I need resources to start production of things the crew will need. Uniforms, weapons, suits and protective equipment. Training manuals and a lot more. Fabrics, metals, alloys, wood, stone. I can process most of that here, I just need the actual material itself. I can easily house a hundred men in comfort. I just need time."

"That's all well and good but... Why exactly do you need me here?" Edward asked.

Leonidas breathed a deep sigh. "Christina is the ship's helmsman. She can fly it, make it move. She knows nothing about navigation and actually handling a ship of any size, or how to stabilise a vessel of any kind. Your job will be to co-Captain the ship, while you teach her how to work on a vessel as its leader. Marcus will be taking time with the Artificers Guilds to learn how to perfect his craft. Lira here has volunteered to be Lily's guardian, teaching her how to be more... assertive, shall we say. Caliban will be taking Kalli under his wing to teach her about warfare and maybe calm her down a bit. And Jessica, well, let's say she's in hot water with the Botanists Guild for growing a certain plant without a license, so she will be working with Harradia to gain a better knowledge of how to grow things. This ship is the key to our future, or at least something of it, but there's so much missing from a very large puzzle. Everyone has to work together to recover the pieces."

Edward considered that for a bit. "I have to say this seems a bit far from my wheelhouse but... I can't say no to a challenge." He said with a smile. "As for my men, they're getting paid so they will learn in time. In any case, where do we start?"

"We start with that train. The ship needs a deposit of iron ore from Kadabald Mine to the West, and I have used the drones to start laying railroad tracks since I woke up this morning. That's seventy miles of track from here to Barkstead. The ore is waiting, the local Miners Guild has dug it all up for us. I simply need it here so I can start working." Marcus replied.

"In short, Captain Edward, it will be a very, very long time until this ship is actually able to be unleashed on the world, and likely a longer time before you or your men see any real action. But for the time being, our purpose is education and improvement. In order to give this thing what it needs to function properly, the rest of the kingdom will need to improve along with it. And so we begin with that thing. The train." Christina said, pointing at the multi-ton machine nearby.

"That's fair. So what now?" Edward asked with a shrug.

"We go our separate ways, do our individual things. You teach me how to sail a ship. Lira teaches Lily how to face her fears. The artificers will teach Marcus how to understand machines and build things. Caliban will be teaching Kalli how to not be unhinged. Jessica will serve her Penance alongside Queen Harradia and make it easier for her to understand her role. Maybe along the way we will learn some new things. Things that will hopefully help everyone, everywhere." Christina said, tightly clutching Marcus' hand.

"You seem mighty tense there... You okay?" Edward asked.

"She isn't. Especially now she knows who is here." Harradia remarked as she approached, a stranger close behind her.

"What's going on mother?" Marcus asked, also very tense.

The stranger was a woman, young and soft spoken, her voice enhanced by a magical tone that sounded mystical and quiet, calm, a voice that made everyone feel strangely at ease. "I have been sent by the Great Sage to deliver a message to Marcus. The 'Engineer'. The Sage says, there is a thing called a 'Satellite Relay Beacon'. You must build it. That is all I was told."

Marcus' body stiffened and his eyes made that all too familiar flashing metallic glint. A noise rumbled from inside the ship, shortly after, the main hangar doors opened releasing a swarm of small drones. The machines all worked in perfect concert, ferrying parts and components from inside the ship to a spot above the command bridge. The object quickly took shape, it was a large dish like object with a large spire protruding from the centre that aimed itself at the sky. One drone, one that stood out from the rest by its odd shape and strangely silent engines made its way to Marcus' side.

It spoke, a discordant abnormal, metallic voice, the same voice heard by the crew several times. The ship itself was talking through it.

"SatCom Relay Network online. Units available - 47 of 128. Reconfiguring relay layout. Complete. Readying Radar Ping."

"Marcus... What's going on?" Harradia asked.

Marcus couldn't respond as a very distinct, very loud noise like a giant glass bottle being hit with a huge sword echoed through the air from the ship. Lily, Christina, Jessica and Kalli all stiffened, their eyes glinting with that familiar metallic sheen as their minds processed the information.

The drone beeped and booped, emitting various electronic noises as the five of them remained still. After a few agonizingly tense moments, the drone moved itself above them and a beam of light emitted from its 'face'. Slowly, a view seen from above the world began to take shape. Some unseen force far above the skies was looking at the world and was slowly assembling a picture from orbit. Every few moments a new segment was added, catalogued and categorized. The five sat there in their semi-catatonic state for a solid half hour as the picture became clearer and clearer. Their beautiful blue and green jewel in the cosmos, Luvania in all its beautiful majesty, seen in perfect clarity for the first time in history.

The picture slowly assembled itself as more and more of the world became clearer. It started with a topography map, slowly but with frightening accuracy mapping the dips, mountains, chasms, valleys and plains that dotted the world's surface. Then what followed was a heat map, blue for the freezing cold of the Far South, red for the boiling sands of The Great Saranian Expanse. Then a biome map with accurate names for all the various places on the planet started to form. The great Swamps, the Caspian Mountains, the Dragonlands, everything, even things previously unknown became as clear as if the cartographers of old saw and mapped them with their own eyes. The e geological survey, a smattering of colours denoting the active volcanoes of the Dragonlands and nesting grounds.

The drone spoke again. "Geo-mapping completed. Global positioning System online. WARNING - Satellite network is operating at forty seven percent efficiency due to decay and lost units. Replacements advised. Primary functionality partially restored. Pinging local network."

Another ping, this one lower and more pronounced echoed through the valley. The party remained still as they processed the information.

"Targets found. Accessing archives. WARNING. ALPHA PROTOCOL DATA ERASURE DETECTED. PRIMARY CONTROL DISABLED. Accessing system... Admin access denied. Direct interface required. System damage critical. Accessing the guest registry... Complete. Twelve primary entities detected. Damage, critical. Primary power inoperable. Reactors offline. Emergency power. Accessing available databases... Found. Downloading all off site data. ERROR. System damage detected, multiple files corrupted. Isolating files.... Download complete."

The five 'woke up' from their states. Lily groaned angrily. "I hate it when it does that... It feels so weird."

"I know, little bug, I know. It's over now just... rest. I got it from here okay?" Marcus said.

Lily nodded and tried to relax. Marcus stood up and looked at the projection in front of him. "Wow.... This is... Home. It's.... Bigger than I thought it was." He said.

By now a larger crowd of people had gathered to look at the beautiful visage of their home. A few minutes of silence followed as everyone considered what to do. Then, one of Edwards men, a boatswain by the name of Timothy spoke up. "You see this thing 'ere?" He said, as he traced his finger across an ominously dark streak in the largest ocean on the planet.

"Well keelhaul me coral reef, that's the shadow of a Great Sea Serpent that is!" Edward yelled excitedly.

The crowd murmured in excitement and came closer to see. Marcus' eyes glinted again and the image sharpened, reset. Like it was taking more pictures as needed to update the image. The shadow had moved, revealing more about it.

"There's more than one there!" The crowd gasped and excitedly bellowed at the sight. A creature previously thought wiped out by a mad elven king from centuries past had shown itself again.

"Alroight then... lets see what this 'satellite' thing of yours can do innit? What can you see in the Badlands that we can't? I think it's about time we have a look wots makin' the place so horrible." Timothy said.

Marcus rose to the challenge and started to work, moving the projection around and making the satellites take more detailed scans of that particular part of the world. Alone in the middle of the Junian Ocean on a forgotten continent sat a place known only as the Badlands, where nobody goes and few ever come back from if they do. Marcus looked around for a bit. Once the picture became clear, the drone spoke again.

"Alert! Emergency rescue beacon activation detected. Lethal radiation levels and multiple toxic waste signatures detected. Spotted primary cause. Accessing data... Starship designation 'U.S.S.M.C 'Manticore' Class Strategic Cruiser detected. Attempting to access core. Admin access denied, activating guest protocol. BVR data detected, downloading... Complete. Play recording."

The drone shuddered a bit as a new voice, panicked and distorted played through its speaker, the conversation neatly organised into a transcript.

"Audio log begins."

Voice 1 - "This is the USSMC Tyrannis, Mayday! Mayday! We are going down!"

*Sounds of explosions*

Voice 2 - "Pressure on aft decks lost captain!"

Voice 1 - "This is the captain, all hands abandon ship! All hands abandon ship! All hands abandon ship! Everyone to designated life pods!"

*Sound of explosion, followed by pained screaming*

Voice 1 - "Mayday! Mayday! This is USSMC Tyrannis! We are declaring an emergency! Engines gone, reactor critical! Hull breaches on multiple decks! Mayday! Mayday!"

*Sounds of electrical discharge followed by more screaming*

Voice 3 - "MY ARM! MY ARM! IT BLEW MY DAMN ARM OFF!"

Voice 1 - "WHAT PART OF ABANDON SHIP DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND!? GET OFF THE SHIP!"

Voice 4 - "But captain! What abou-"

Voice 1 - "I SAID GET OFF THE SHIP! THAT IS AN ORDER LIEUTENANT!!"

*Sound of blaring alarm*

Voice 5 - "Alert! Critical system failure. Critical system failure. Hull bulking, multiple hull breaches detected. Evacuate. Evacuate."

Voice 3 - "Captain! You have to get to a pod too! Come on!"

Voice 1 - "GET OFF ME AND GET TO A DAMN POD! THATS A GOD DAMN ORDER!"

*Sounds of struggle, followed by a door closing and locking. Sounds of a pained yelling coming from behind a sealed door."

Voice 1 - "COMPUTER! SEAL THE BRIDGE! GIVE THE ORDER TO EVACUATE!"

Voice 5 - "Confirmed. Bridge sealed. Emergency evacuation is active."

Voice 1 - "Mayday! Mayday! We got hit by the asteroid defence system! Something screwed up the IFF and it blasted a hole though our damn fuel bay! Mayday! Mayday! We need help imme-"

*Sound of explosion and screaming, followed by desperate, pained breathing, then radio static*

"End of audio log." The drone said.

The picture became clearer and showed the closeup, slightly blurry image of a crashed starship three times the size of the Frigate they have now, in three separate pieces spread across the continent. The front part of it scorched and burned but mostly intact, sitting in a dead forested area. A few hundred metres behind sat the central hull atop which was the bridge - partially melted into the stone it rested on. Then a few hundred metres behind it, sat the mangled wreckage of the ship's engine bay, a clear hole straight through one of the engine pods, and a larger more prominent hole straight through the central part of it, presumably the reactor. The wreckage in the rear section was mangled and broken. Surrounding the ship were various pools of foul looking, vile liquid pouring from various breaches, barrels and tanks, pooling around the ship and in various places across the crash site.

Everyone stood in stunned silence for what seemed an age. Then captain Edward spoke up. "Aye... A good captain that one. Stood to the last while all the men got off. Gods rest his soul." He said, and removed his hat in a respectful bow. The rest of the crew followed suit.

Marcus spoke up as he scrambled to look for answers. "I don't know what to say. The drone tells me the main archive has been erased as well. Again, this 'Alpha Protocol' thing comes up. That's what deleted the entire archive. But this one's crash logs are all intact... It has two thousand nine hundred eighty five crew. According to the logs, only around eight hundred or so survived it. It also appears those people were in fact rescued... Log indicates something called a 'SMC Valiant' arrived later, presumably another ship, and got everyone back off world. Then silence. The ship's systems stopped recording after that and it seems it's been operating on residual power since. I can't tell you how long it's been there."

"Something to consider at a far later date I am afraid." Leonidas remarked as he approached. "Far later date. It can sit there for a bit longer for now. We have more pertinent problems. And now, we can better use this thing to plan for the future. I have a feeling we will be hearing more from the Great Sage in the coming months. This will be of great help for the moment, so let us focus on planning our new railway network. We will... We will come back to this at a later date." He said and carefully moved Marcus away from the projection.

The soft spoken cloaked woman spoke again, interrupting proceedings. "Perhaps then with this revelation, may I deliver a further message? I have a message from Lady Sariah Merren of The Sisterhood for Christina the Angel warrior. A direct order, in fact."

"What could Lady Sariah possibly ask of ME? Of all people, me!?" Christy said with shock.

"You are hereby commanded by order of the Sacred Rose and the Sisters of Serenity to hang up your warrior's garb and sheathe your sword. For one year, you are to relieve yourself of combat duty, and take up the mantle of more... maidenly behaviour." She replied in earnest. One could see a clever, cheeky smirk cross her lips from behind her mask.

"Over my dead body." Harradia barked. "What possible reason could you ask THAT of all things, and at THIS time no less!?"

"But your Majesty... This is ordered on account of your daughter in-laws' present condition. We cannot risk the baby's health after all." She replied with a very, VERY cheeky smirk.

Everyone stopped dead in their tracks. The mood changed instantly. Lily's face brightened with the biggest smile ever, Christy's face turned beet red as she blushed and her wings turned a very bright shade of amber. Marcus had more important things to do and with lightning fast reflexes intercepted his mother as she made a mad dash toward Christina.

"MOTHER, NO! DON'T DO IT!!" He bellowed as he grabbed her and held her back.

"GRANDCHILD AT LAST!!! COME ON! I WANT TO HEAR THE BABY'S HEARTBEAT! LET ME GO THIS INSTANT!!!" She yelled in frustration to a chorus of jubilant applause and laughter from the crowd.

Marcus and Leonidas both wrestled with Harradia as they dragged her squealing like a tantruming child into the tent to calm her down while the other girls crowded around Christy for comfort. The crowd around them released a collective sigh of relief as the tension from the last hour evaporated, and everyone got back to work while the Queen was being scolded.

Seven hundred years of war preceded present circumstances. Seven hundred years of us facing the same absurd dice roll. Millions of losses, hundreds of thousands of ships destroyed, and dozens of planets on both sides reduced to glass. Seven centuries of the same back and forth, and an entire border zone rendered uninhabitable thanks to countless battles fought in and around them. Seven hundred cycles of miserable pointless war. Every attempt at negotiation failed. Every chance at diplomacy failed.

And its not like were the good guys here, no we aren't. We gave in to as much backstabbery and skulduggery as they did, looking for any and all chances we could snatch out of the void as they did. When a peace treaty was signed, we would sneak a fleet behind their lines. They did too. When we had the chance to relax, we would build secret shipyards outside our lines and double the size of our fleets. So did they. Back and forth, forth and back, over and over.

The Saranian and Kimbakani War. The so-called 'Galactic Border Dispute', had been raging since we first knew each other and laid claim to the same systems after First Contact. Neither backed down. Neither surrendered. Neither cared.

Six weeks ago, that changed completely. We got word from our spies that the Kimbakani had made first contact with a new species on the Galaxy's Western arm.

And lost a battle forty to one.

That is why I am here with a small crew on the outskirts of Terran space, quietly humming away in a silent (at least as far as we can tell) cloaked infiltration frigate hoping to catch a battle and see how it was handled, or maybe to talk to them if nothing else happens.

Hopefully.

I sat in the Captains chair - a very lofty position considering I have no experience with being at the helm of a ship - and waited for anything to happen. No idea what was the real procedure here. This was the first time in seven centuries we bothered having any real First Contact, and it seemed the empire in front of us was barely getting its foothold beyond the cradle. I saw a fleet of maybe forty ships in total, half of which were cargo freighters or shipping vessels. One of them appeared to be a ship dedicated exclusively to medical operations and rescue.

The signs pointed to a young empire or a backwater colony with a private navy. I was here to find out why a fleet only twice this size, felled a fleet forty times that. Something in this equation was missing a variable. We sat there for several hours, quiet, no transmissions, no activity. Our craft was experimental, we barely knew what this thing could do. And after several hours of just sitting around wandering what to do, speculation, quiet contemplation and careful scanning we... got bored.

"Do they even know we are here yet?" I asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Well they know something is here, they did their own scans and I intercepted a few random broadcasts of radio chatter. From what I can tell, they don't know we specifically are here." Ensign replied.

I thought aloud a bit. "Maybe it would be a good idea to say hello and get in their good graces. I have some intel they may want."

"We do, My Lord?" Ensign asked as she spun around to look at me.

I just shrugged and retrieved a nearby folder. "According to this file I was given, there is a Kimbakani war fleet assembling in a nearby system. Must be gearing up to attack this one. They would probably want to know about that. Assuming of course they don't already. My intel says two hundred ships, likely more. One of which is a dreadnought."

The crew all looked at me with a certain level of suspicion and shock and then went back to their jobs.

I waited for a few more minutes, and soon I got a few more answers. The ship's navigation officer spoke up above the quiet. "My Lord! Jump Drive signatures detected! Multiple Kimbakani warships inbound!"

"Theres no way it could be THAT fleet. How many signatures?" I asked.

"Thirty five sir. Seems it's a scout fleet. Looks like they're here to probe the defences before the main fleet arrives."

"The same tactic they use on us then? Seems a bit large for a test fleet. Double check all systems, scanners ready. Make sure every turret we have is sending the recording data straight to the datacore. I don't want to miss anything." I barked, and the crew instantly got to work.

Officers ran through the bridge, I hastily got up off my chair and placed all the data I had on a table nearby and started combing through them. I used some of the ship's processing power, a small enough amount that I wouldn't be noticed, to use some nearby screens and tap into the feeds myself.

The Kimbankani warships approached the human settlement with careless abandon typical of their tactics. That was the only thing the Kimbakani knew how to do, rush with massed numbers. The only reason those numbers don't work on us is because we have the slight edge of being able to fly circles around them with our faster ships. The Terran fleets immediately noticed and moved to engage the threat as hastily gasped curse words filled every comms network. Not very subtle. As usual.

The Terran ships assembled, most either hastily leaving the system, presumably to call for reinforcements or retreating to hide on the planet's surface.

It looked like an overwhelming victory for the Kimbakani.

"My Lord! Abnormal energy signatures detected... Everywhere! There's a satellite network in orbit as well as multiple planetary energy signatures. The readings are... concerning." Ensign yelled from her console.

"What do you mean?" I walked over to her console and looked at the numbers. There was no way this was real.

We then got our answer. Several bolts of white-hot purple laser fire blasted from the planet's surface and hit every Kimbakani ship in perfect concert. We saw multiple Gigawatt level energy releases that only lasted milliseconds, followed by every Kimbakani warship getting hit. Shields failed, engines died, reactors shut down. I sent orders to collect some direct scans.

"Impossible... How did they do that!? My Engineer asked.

"Do what? What's going on?" I asked.

"The Kimbakani ships! They've shut down completely! Every wire and cable burned out, every circuit fried, every fuse blown! Reactors are failing, half are going supercritical while others are just shutting down or melting! Every shield array they have is melted or offline and their weapons systems seem to be overloading and some of the ammunition storage is overheating! I... What devil magic is this!? Scanning life signs... How is that possible? No ship casualties! Every ship has its full crew complement untouched!" The engineer said, a definitive tone of pure terror in his voice.

"So the reports from our spies were true... the humans do have some kind of secret weapon. I wonder what it is though? Can we do more scans?" I asked.

"Well we cant-"

Ensigns' words were cut short as several disabled warships exploded, the largest of which produced a detonation that obliterated the three ships flanking it. The rest of the fleet was then summarily disassembled by cannon fire from the human fleet with no resistance. The ships were destroyed in short order.

"What I was going to say is, we can't risk any further scans without alerting the defence fleet. And judging by the Communications officers' face, it looks like the Terrans have already called in reinforcements. Our time here is short." Ensign replied, glaring at me with her 'get us out of here now' stare.

"I have orders directly from the King and the Admiralty Board. We don't leave until we know what's going on. I guess there's nothing for it. Open all channels." I ordered.

I returned to my standing desk and stood tall, making sure my suit was neat and tidy.

"Received a return signal on channel twenty three. Patching it through... converting the signal and sending it through translators. Got it." My comms officer worked a lot faster than I remember. Must be excited.

A holo-screen appeared and showed a very, VERY angry looking creature that fit the profile in my notes. Mammalian - very rare - two eyes indicating predatory capacity. I couldn't make out other details as its face was hidden mostly by a mask with pipes leading behind it. I noticed one of its eyes was different from the other. Cybernetics? Apparently very advanced cybernetics.

It looked at me and tilted its head. "You are... New."

"Same to you, human..." I replied in kind.

"And what pray tell, brings thy kind to our unholy neck of the woods? What is thy business oh fair blue skinned and pointy eared one?" He asked, his voice seeming more machine-like than organic. Clearly his cybernetics went a lot farther than expected.

I considered that a compliment and spoke with what little authority I had. "My name is Thraxx'Thra'nn Tarr of Clan Ulukum, Diplomatic Orderly of The Saranai Kingdoms. The ships you just wiped off the map belong to the Kimbakani, an empire my people have been at war with for seven centuries."

"Quite an age one might say. Far too long for any war to reasonably rage, at least to us. I must ask for context behind this in future. But for now, I must inquire, what brings you specifically here?" It said, the strange mechanical voice seeming almost melodic somehow.

"We fought these rats for centuries in a constant stalemate. No matter how it went we would always be back to square one. Then you show up and magically defeat a fleet that outclasses one of yours forty to one. I have been sent to determine why." I replied calmly.

"I see. And what have you learned so far?" He asked.

"That you need to call for more reinforcements." I held up one of the reports I had with me displaying several intel documents relating to the enemy fleet assembling two systems away. "That was a probing attack to test your defences. I would recommend whatever weapons you have, be ready to fire again."

"That is... Pertinent information. We knew they were assembling but had no trace of their numbers which are... Concerningly large. And judging by previous encounters, it would seem that number will grow much larger. But the statement remains - how can one trust thee?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

I turned to the crew. "Decloak and disable shields and weapons."

"But My lord-"

"I SAID to decloak and disable weapons and shields!" I barked back.

My orders were obeyed and the mirror coating on our ship faded away. I felt a distinct rumble within the ship's structure as the shields powered down and weapons returned to their FTL housings inside the hull.

"Here we are. Naked and unvarnished. Would I wish harm if I did this? Go on, scan us. See for yourself." I said, standing proud.

He looked at me curiously and waved a hand. Seconds later the stupidly huge warship he was in suddenly appeared next to us. It seems the larger, more expensive ships had built-in slip-drives that allowed them to jump short distances in subspace. That was... Important to know.

"Hmmm... Quite the delightful construct. Curvaceous, sweet. She is young, barely a few cycles. No sisters or brothers to speak of. The machine's soul is young, vibrant. Scared to see the universe for the first time but excited. She fears my cannons. An experimental prototype cruiser with refraction based nano-mirrors mounted on the hull plating. Heat sinks and some of the most advanced scanning equipment I have seen thus far. Quite the impressive piece of machinery you have. Nowhere near one of our Strategic Assault Cruisers to be certain, but still quite the beautiful beast." His voice carried a tone more of a priest looking over a holy relic than an engineer. He also knew a lot more than he should know.

"You... Are quite frightening, you know that?" I remarked, not sure what else to say.

"Indeed, perhaps to the unenlightened I may be. To my own kind, I am but a strange quirk of the species. We have learned to listen to the Machine. At least to a certain extent, it goes a bit deeper. But perhaps something for another day." He said. He looked down at his console as a red flashing light came from his console. "Oh what delight, the Jovian Royal Navy has responded to our call. How most agreeable. Just in time, it would seem."

A few moments later my Navigations Officer squealed in terror as he noted the fleet that had appeared in the star system behind one of the colony's moons. Sixty four ships, of very elaborate and sleek design with blue and gold colouration.

"Jovian Royal Navy? Are they a new species we have to talk to?" I asked.

He laughed, heartily and heavily, half mocking me, half mocking himself. "No friend no. We humans are a fractious, tribal species, we have our own squabbles amongst each other. But now we have a common enemy to fight and such petty nonsense has been put to rest, at least for a time. In any case, you wish to know our weapons secrets then?"

I was taken aback by that, stunned. "Uhm... yes please?"

"Then recloak, reactivate your shields and recording equipment and watch the fireworks. With a preface: We weaponized our star's tantrums. Know this, and the coming observations will be... Informative. Let's see if you can figure it out of your own volition, shall we?" He closed the comm but kept the channel open and returned to formation with the newly arrived fleet.

"Cloak us and move to recon position two-two-eight!" I ordered and the crew followed my commands breathlessly. We quickly moved to a better, more advantageous spot nearby where we would have a clear view.

I waited. Sure enough, around a half hour later the Kimbakani fleet arrived in droves. Two hundred and eighty four ships, a fleet that would normally make one of our own fleet admirals nervous. A flurry of speeches and hastily gasped curse words filled every radio chatter frequency we could hear as the enemy fleet began its advance. I directed my officers to use specific energy wave and radio spectrum scans.

Moments later, the Kimbakani fleet was hit with an even greater burst of those strange purple energy weapons. Deeper scans, riskier ones quickly returned results. I was starting to piece it together bit by bit as we watched the torrent of data cross our screens. The enemy fleet was quickly wiped out with little effort. Once again the same damage pattern.

The shields would overload instantly and either shut down or fry. When the purple bolts hit the hull, an electrical surge of some kind would overload every point of electrical current, to where cables and joints would melt or catch fire. Reactors engaged their emergency shutdown procedures, and at least a third failed to do that and either melted down or went supercritical from overload. Weapon hardpoints would fail, either from the power surge blowing their motors and connectors, or from the ammunition load detonating. Every circuit in every connection fried to the point of becoming silica charcoal or melted down completely, with some systems outright catching fire or simply getting so damaged they instantly became non-functional.

"I don't know how they did it but... I think I have the idea now..." I said idly.

"And do you? Enlighten me. What do we do?" The human said, his image appearing again. He was watching.

"Well... Near as I can tell from your statement earlier and the damage patterns we are observing... Did you find some way to weaponize the way a star works during its solar storm? It seems you have a directed energy weapon that causes a directed star-flare of some kind." I said.

"I wasn't expecting you to get that on the first try, most impressive. It's a bit more complex, but yes, we do use some form of Ion Emission weaponry. Most ships have at least one of these such weapons somewhere. The idea is to use a short burst of energy that will disable or fry electronics or at least distort or disable shields. It would appear however from our observations that these Kimbakani ships are unusually susceptible to electromagnetic or ion discharge. We have yet to find out why. Perhaps, that is information you should take home to your masters? I wonder though... Do your ships have different systems or did the concept slip your mind as such that you have the same level of resistance to the damage we produce?" He remarked coldly, I could almost see the smirk on his face.

"I would rather not find out..." I said.

"Then perhaps we should meet on more professional grounds another time? Mayhap your leadership class would like to join us at a banquet, say... two weeks hence? I'm sure the Kimbakani will cease their idiocy for at least a while after this loss. Maybe we can... talk at length about future plans. You seem significantly more... friendly, than our erstwhile foe." he said.

"That... that sounds wonderful. I have a question though... Why do you shoot the ships after you have effectively disabled them? The Kimbakani aren't complete idiots. Mostly."

"It is the word 'mostly' that we disagree with. They seem especially aggressive with us for reasons as yet unknown. Tried to capture them alive so many times, they seem to go berserk for one reason or another upon our arrival, despite the fact we wish only to take them alive and stop the bloodshed. It was they who raised their claws first, we are simply responding in kind until such time as their bloodlust can be sated or silenced, and voices of reason can be instead heard. For now, we leave no survivors, at least to reason, do unto them, before they do unto us." He said with a shrug. I could sense a distinct tone of sadness with that statement.

"I see... That... seems to be the standard for us as well I am afraid. although not quite as vile as with you. Perhaps there is a means for cooperation in the future, The Kimbakani are strangely... submissive when we take them prisoner usually. Might be something to think about." I said.

He tilted his head again. "indeed... Hopefully soon as well. I grow tired of this meaningless waste of life. I for one feel… Ill... when I have to give the final firing orders. Thinking of so much devastation, all those men in agony and misery. But, safety of my crew and operatives is more important at the end of the day. I refuse to have what happened the last time we took prisoners occur again." He said.

"And what exactly hap-"

"I SHALL NOT SPEAK OF THAT ABOMINABLE CURCUMSTANCE. At least not in polite company... Let me simply say that the Kimbakani seem to be almost rabid when we are in the room. Why, we are yet to understand. They lose control, sometimes in ways I dare not speak of in public. So until we find a way to study this properly - a circumstance you may yet facilitate - perhaps we can find a way to more safely end the bloodshed. For now, you must go. The Terran Federal Navy is coming, and they are not quite as... Agreeable as the Jovian Royal Navy is. They can be more... direct. I would rather avoid that paperwork pile for now. Please, make haste, and fly safe and sure to thy home friend. Much work to do, in earnest no less." He said and gave a bow to the camera.

I returned his bow politely and ordered FTL prep to start. "I will make sure all this is heard by the Council and the King... Hopefully we will see you sooner than later."

"Ciao Belle, Mon Cher." He said and closed the connection.

I looked at my engineer. "So... While the jump drive is charging... Looking at the number, do you think we could survive one of those blasts?"

"Not by a long shot. Our ships are built with a higher resistance than theirs but those things produce an electromagnetic discharge that would fry any ship we have in the fleet. It isn't a matter of design, it's a matter of sheer power output. I have to wonder what kinds of reactors those ships have, because those things have to produce unholy amounts of energy for this kind of damage. Either that, or they have some kind of capacitor discharge system that they use to augment the blast. I have some basic scans but... This tech is far beyond anything I know. These humans are a LOT more advanced than they are allowing us to see as far as I can tell. Let's hope they don't turn on us." He said.

"They will not." I stated plainly, and returned to my seat as the jump drive finished its charge. "Home. We have work to do. Maybe we can finally end this once and for all."

"Aye, My Lord."

"Great Days and Glorious Victory! Welcome back to Fallout New Vegas. I really want to be done with this game... It is... Horrifying."

Screen changes to still images of Spiff browsing the wiki for Fallouts Vaults, specifically Vault 11, glaring at the screen with his head in his hands and his signature death stare through his fingers

"But anyway. Hopefully this is all we have. I want to be done with this and go for something else. There is this game called Timberborn, and it's a game I'm used to. So I want to get this done as soon as possible."

Spiff loads the save and ends up where he left off - in Freeside, holding the new Homemade Anti Materiel Rifle. The gun gets its first real test by obliterating a Freeside thug that chose the worst possible time to spawn, and the impact of the bullet makes the thugs body glitch out a bit as its arm gets blown off.

"Well... That's... A gun. What's this one again? Oh. That one. I have heard about these weapons. That was... Very silly. Do they actually do that?"

He shrugs and resumes, heading into Mick & Ralph's to see what's there. Ralph doesn't have much but he manages to pass a speech check with Mick and gains access to some better weaponry. He can't afford to actually buy anything so just settles for some more ammunition. He then goes around the map a few times, heading to the 188, Goodsprings and a few other places to buy all the ammunition he can find. Eventually, he fast-travels to a Powder Ganger Camp, and heads to the Brotherhood Bunker at Hidden Valley.

"Right... This isn't the first time I have been here. Francine - please show them what happened last time I was here unprepared."

Screen changes to a montage of Spiff getting his face shot off a grand total of thirty seven times through various means by Brotherhood Paladins, Knights and turrets. Not only does Spiff face the challenges of the Brotherhood itself, but a strange texture glitch that obscures most of the vault and makes walls, floors and doors disappear to the point where the bunker is un-navigable. All this is set to a good old Benny Hill track. Spiff gets grenaded, grenade Machine-gun'd, repeatedly lasered, shot by turrets, and for some odd reason his character's left arm gets constantly crippled. In the end, Spiff reloads a save - the one he has now - and with new guns and plenty of ammo, gets back to the Bunker to finish off the Brotherhood.

Spiff hard saves before entering the bunker, Anti-Materiel Rifle in hand, and charges in. The Brotherhood make their signature entrance, and with sheer dumb luck, Spiff manages to kill all four Paladins at the start with little effort. And for some reason a broken right arm. Which becomes a theme through the bunker. After each fight, he quick-saves and equips Eugene, which shockingly he has a lot of ammunition for.

It is now the viewer sees just what in the balls is going on that made this particular stretch so difficult the last time, as a strange texture glitch becomes apparent. The walls are bugged out, grey and missing outright, flickering in and out depending on what direction he is facing. Spiff remembers this from last time and descends the stairs to where the textures load properly and starts his first fight which he wins relatively easily against Paladin Ramos and the guards at the entrance.

But again, suffers a crippled right arm in the crossfire. For some reason. After looting the entryway, Spiffle reloads Eugene, quicksaves and resumes the fight. Its a very hard battle despite all things, the turrets are resilient to minigun fire and he tries the newly acquired Gauss Rifle stolen from Brotherhood corpses. He doesn't bother reading journals and cant hack the turrets due to low skill and heads further downstairs. The turrets shoot back and again, for some reason the Right arm is crippled again. The Brotherhood retaliate, falling to his new Anti-materiel Rifle as the AI funnels them into his sights.

Again, the theme shows itself and he has to use yet another Doctors Bag and Stimpak to fix another crippled limb. The battle continues with this odd theme, he gets into a fight, and nearly every time they manage to get a hit in, the right arm gets crippled or he misses a perfect shot. He switches to the gauss Rifle and for some reason it makes the crippling worse because it seems they cripple him every time he pokes his head out. He gets to one of the more senior Paladins and faces his first death. He then realises he hasn't quicksaved in a while, and his face visibly shows frustration and despair as he has to go through that whole sequence one more time. The theme of being repeatedly crippled - but only in the right arm for some reason - continues and he has to go through half of his Doctors Bags.

Then as he gets into the bunker proper after a hard fight, he dies again, by a Paladin using a missile launcher. Spiff keels over and slams his fist into the desk. One can visibly see him curse repeatedly in Eridani as he reloads the save. Francine decides this is her moment, and replaces the audio with the sound of an autotuned baby crying, just to be malicious for once. One can almost hear Francine smile during the sequence.

After Spiffs dies again, this one caused by the strange texture glitch, Spiff gives up and shows a message on the screen.

"Heya Spiff, sorry but for some weird reason there's a stupid texture glitch going in some places and I didn't have time to find the solution for it. Whenever you encounter it, just skip the sequence by opening the console with Tilde, type in TGM for god mode, and TCL to turn off collision, so you can just fly through, skip it all and get back to real gaming. I know what's been causing the issue but for some reason the fix isn't working, and I don't know why. New Vegas Jank I guess. I'm working on a full reinstall and testing it properly so you can go for a full run for the next time, and for when you do the DLCs. But for now, we will forgive a bit of tomfoolery if silly things happen. have at it."

Spiff looks at the camera. He then gestures to his screen, showing the fact the bunkers textures are just plain gone. He then glares at the camera again. Then gestures to the screen one more time. The console is opened, the commands are typed, and Spiff gets to experience the strange Liminal hellscape that is New Vegas' developer controls for the first time.

"What in the absolute balls... This is... Very trippy. Is it like this in all games!?"

Spiff skips all the combat, making note of the VERY weird popping in and out of the textures and the strange movements, heads right for the self-destruct and engages the sequence. He then leaves the bunker straight off and exits back into the wasteland. He opens the console, types in both commands again and returns to 'normal' doing a hard save as the bunker explodes and the quest completes.

"I would really like to do that properly because I 'lost Karma' at the end of that sequence, so that might have been the bad thing to do. Back to the Strip to House I guess. As you saw on that message, I will be doing another paythrough but this one with the DLCs which are apparently really, REALLY good. Now, to House."

House gives the quest reward, then directs him to Hoover Dam proper.

"President? Is that like the human version of an Emperor or something? And I have to prevent his assassination!? Is that a common thing then that you include it in a videog-know what... I don't want to know. I will skip THAT piece of human-lore for once. Let's just get to the Dam."

Spiff fast-travels to Boulder City, which is the closest point he has, and gets to the Dam itself in short order. He ignores most of everything and heads straight to Ranger Grant and starts the sequence. Once it starts, the screen fades to black, then back again as Ranger Grant gives Spiff his orders - search the area and watch for threats.

"Simple enough I guess. Look for clues? What 'clues' am I looking for exactly?"\

He just explores the place for now, and reports back to Grant. It is here Spiff finally notices, not only the first encounter with a Vertibird, but also the big huge goddamn gun that's sitting right next to the stage. Spiff is first distracted by the Vertibird as he watches it come in to land.

"What in the actual hell is THAT? Is THAT a 'Vertibird'!? That looks... Very strange. How does it fly!?"

Spiff watches it fly and then land.

"That... how? The entire engine MOVED from straight forward to up. That... Okay. THAT is engineering. Do humans have a real equivalent? Hold on."

Francine shows what Spiffle found - the 'Osprey' VTOL craft from the early days of the 21st century and compares it to screenshots of the Vertibird found in other media.

"For the sake of reference to our non-human audience, these are known as VTOL or Vertical Take-Off and Landing craft. We have actually borrowed a few of the ones called 'helicopters' from the humans before. They are obscenely difficult to fly, apparently. These ones operate on a different ideal. Same principle, but when the engine moves, it changes the characteristics! When engines forward it acts like a fixed wing aircraft. When engines are up, it acts like a helicopter! Genius! Absolute Genius! Sorry... Back to New Vegas. I liked that a bit too much. I wonder if there are games I can play that have those vehicles?"

Back to the game, the slow sequence starts. Spiff stands near Ranger Grant and watches what goes on around him, making note of what's happening. President Kimball walks down the ramp and to the stage and starts his speech.

"Sounds... Standard fare for a politician I suppose."

Then he notices a figure appear on the tower directly behind the stage, move slightly to the right, then a body flies from the tower to the ground.

"Well if THAT wasn't a suspicious thing to happen, I don't know what would be! Go there."

He immediately heads there and finds the Rangers body. He heads up the ladder and is accosted by a Ranger.

"YOU SIR ARE VERY SUSPICIOUS. What are you doing? Dead ranger downstairs... yeah because YOU pushed him, I SAW IT! Radio it in? You don't want to? I KNOW YOU DON'T! More trouble than I'm worth? I KNEW IT!!!!"

The Ranger engages, revealing himself as a Legion Assassin and Spiff deals with him far too quickly. He radios it in and heads back to the stage to help evacuate. Unfortunately there's another Legion Assassin and he kills one of The Rangers before having his head blown clean off by everyone around him. President Kimball manages to escape but Spiffle is distracted by the huge cannon. He fails to notice the Vertibird leave as he tries to make sense of the giant gun that's perched right next to the stage.

"What is this gun!? Can I use it? What's it for? this is an apocalypse and such... Does it even work?"

He wanders around and fails to notice the quest complete before giving him a new quest marker back to Mr House.

"Wait what happened? Why do I have a new marker? Oh. Quest finished. Did I do it right? I guess I did... I think. Back to The Strip I guess."

One fast-travel later and Spiff is back with Mr House.

"Okay what's next? Routing from the Dam kills his political career? Wait, that's a thing? Okay. El Dorado Substation. Have to jumpstart the Lucky 38's reactor? Oh, okay. Sounds nice. Hopefully it will be easy. The House Always Wins Seven. Okay. I have to travel from the 188 to there. Okay. Next stop then."

Spiff goes there and sprints in. He is accosted by the guards, but its a fast job. Quickly in, activates the substation, then quickly out. He is repeatedly shot at by the guards but sprints away fast enough to only take a few hits. In order to fast travel again he has to fight some Fire Ants.

"I hate those things! TOO MANY LEGS! Yeuch."

He then takes fire from the left. It seems he now faces his first Legion Assassination attempt as four men with heavy weaponry attack. Fortunately, against Eugene, they aren't a problem and its a very short fight. Spiff loots them clean, and remembers something.

"Hold on... That was far too easy. These Legion people. I have plenty of ammo... Lets head to Cottonwood Cove and see if we can wipe out the Legion there! It should be fun."

Spiff heads to Cottonwood Cove and quicksaves. Before entering the area, he equips some of the Power Armour he got from the Brotherhood and gets Eugene out for the fight. The fight is... Trivial. And now with heavy armour Spiff becomes considerably harder to damage, and mows the Legion down fast.

He then tests out some of the newly found weaponry, including the Chop Shop, a unique Lewis Gun variant he found in the last episode and it turns out to be rather effective. Not much ammunition for it, but it does the job. Spiff panics and audibly emits a rather unmanly squeal as a Legionary charges him with a chainsaw. The fight is short but Spiff deals with it, switching between weapons trying new things, eventually using the Toooookarev to mow down the guard at the Dock. He then explores a bit and finds Recompense of The Fallen in Aurelius Of Phoenix's office.

Almost mindlessly Spiff is speedrunning the final fall of the Legion at this point as he finishes off the last of the garrison. Eventually he finds the Weathers Family and hands Sammy the key from Canyon runner. Spiff suddenly realises what the place was... It was a slave camp.

He faces the camera with that distinct death glare. He ignores the game for a moment and heads to the dock. He equips Eugene, opens the console and types in the TGM command before entering the fortress proper. Francine overlays some Eridani Military March music as he rampages through The Fort, and slaughters basically everything he sees.

Until he notices how one particular Legionary is a child - and wont die. His death glare stops, he becomes very bashful and apologises to nobody in particular. He reloads the save so he WONT shoot a child again, Legion or not, and finishes the Fort off in good time, slaughtering every legionary he can find. Eventually he gets into Caesar's tent after looting the place for absolutely everything, even the plates and spoons. Caesar and his guards don't last long as they are quickly turned into cheese by Eugene.

"I promise next time I wont do this but that slave camp made me VERY angry. Besides... I am allowed to have a little fun aren't I? Anyway, let's go. Back to House."

After looting absolutely everything, Spiff fast-travels back to the Strip, back to House and starts the final Main Quest - The Battle For Hoover Dam.

"I promise, I swear I will NOT spam the minigun again during my next playthrough, as satisfying as it is, I swear I wont. Now... House. Legion on the March? Joining the battle? I need an override module, go to the Dam. Lets finish this? Wait, is this the last quest!? AM I FINALLY FREE!?"

The dialogue stops, Spiff is teleported to the Dam and is attacked by Great Khans who are easily dispatched.

"My GODS this is frantic! Oh! Where do I go? Follow the marker! To the Dam!"

Eugene makes easy work of the Legionnaires in his way, despite their high levels. They score a few lucky hits of course, and Spiff goes through several Stimpaks and Doctors bags before he heads in. unfortunately the Dams interior is afflicted by that strange texture glitch, and he has to figure out slowly where to go by running into the wall in certain sections, hoping for a door or opening.

"Oh dear... This again. It's not as bad as the Brotherhood bunker but, we will see. Now... Ah! HA! I knew putting all those points into speech was worth it, I can just get these guys out of here and get back to it! YES!"

Spiff passes a Speech check getting rid of the guards without having to fight them, earning himself a level up as a reward before he activates the console.

"Okay... good... Now to activate a switch. NCR's unconditional Surrender? What the-? What is this guy planning?"

He fights his way through a few Legion soldiers and eventually activates the switch. The room rumbles to life and the whine of turbines fills the air as the plant activates. Spiff leaves the dam interior and... due to a texture glitch, the Boomers Bomber fails to actually load in and bombs explode on the bridge from nowhere. Spiff chuckles a bit and wonders what he hell happened to make the game this broken, but shrugs and carries on fighting. The battle goes easily, far too easily, and Spiff eventually gets help from the Securitrons that make short work of the Legion soldiers before eventually he encounters Legate Lanius.

Spiff stares at him for a few moments.

"I.... I want your hat. That is a very nice hat. Gimme that hat!"

Spiff skips most dialogue options and starts the fight. Turns out, Minigun versus Legate isn't much of a fight, especially when Spiff uses VATS to dump a few hundred rounds into Lanius' face. Spiff quickly loots the corpse, puts on Lanius' Legate helmet and changes camera perspective to see something truly deranged.

"Nice hat. I like this hat."

Spiff heads back to the entrance where the NCR are waiting.

"Uh oh... Will they shoot me because of the hat? I hope not.

General Lee Oliver approaches and starts the conversation.

"Legion bastards running for the hills? yeah. That was funny. See they cant run if you shoot the legs. I took the Dam for Vegas? I did? I thought I was working for House? OH..."

The smoke behind the General clears and shows an army of about fifty Securitrons approaching.

"Oh right, that's what he meant. Singing isn't necessary? Free Economic Zone Of New Vegas... Took the Dam with Mr Houses' backing. I guess that is true. Alternative useless, much like the NCR. Well that's a bit insulting isn't it? OOH SPEECH CHECK! Yes to maxed skill that can literally allow me to Gronkleshit my way out of everything! I love that! That's over then. HA That was fun! Terrifying, horrifying, soul crushing, but still, fun."

The game's ending slides start. A despotic Vision of Pre War Glory. Efficient. Orderly. Cold. Boomers eventually left the borders to meet and trade. Brotherhood of Steel Mojave Chapter destroyed completely. The Fiends were never dealt with, and they caused a significant amount of damage before the Securitrons could finish them off. Goodsprings got sent Victor as a gift, and The Kings were wiped out. Novac was hit hard and Bright Followers helped them out. NCR corrections facility became another meaningless ruin. Vault 19s Powder Gangers dispersed. Finally, the last slide played.

"War... War never changes."

"Well... that... That was entertaining. I have a feeling I am missing SO much though. I need to do that properly now that I know what I'm doing. Maybe I can try this whole 'livestream' thing that I've heard so much about. I completed the game but it feels a bit... hollow? I feel like I missed so much. But, that's for much later. So many games! So many! I have to do those first. Can start again and do another game. Anyway, thanks for watching all!"

Spiffs outro plays, along with slides of fan art of him being torn apart by Deathclaws, having a Deathclaw pet, riding a Securitron and even a picture of him having coffee with Mr House in the Traditional Coffee Drinking Attire.

____________________

TOP COMMENT: Yeah Spiff you missed... So much in this game. SO very much. New Vegas is HUGE. Like really, really mega big. Skyrim is the only thing that gets close though.

Reply: (Translated from Ibmbakai) "Seriously? How much time does an average playthrough take?"

Reply: "Well for ME at least, around sixty, maybe seventy hours. I usually do three or four runs, with each faction and evil or good. Just to be thorough. you know. That's on the short end. Speedrunners have beaten this game in less than ten minutes."

Spiff Reply: "TEN MINUTES!? HOW THE HELL DO YOU DO THAT IN TEN MINUTES!?

Reply: "Speedrunners. they... are a different breed. A very strange breed that even the rest of us normal humans are scared of. Try not to think about it."

Spiffs reply: "Too late. I already thought about it. I shall now look up what speedruns are."

Reply: "Oops."

The group of young ladies stood to attention, a delightful menagerie of first year University Students. Angels, Devils, Catgirls, Wolfgirls, Elves, even a rare Dryad, a proud gathering of five of the top students from each of their respective private academies for a total of twenty five young women.

They all stood quietly within the airfield's main terminal, waiting for whatever was coming, and sure enough it arrived in the form of two teachers, the local University Dean, and a well known substitute teacher wearing a military uniform.

Mr Branson, a teacher with a heavy accent and heavier footsteps marched toward the students. Everybody automatically recognised him as he had taught all of them at least once or twice through the last school year, either as a substitute or as a tutor for after school lessons. What they were all doing here was still unknown, but they knew the drill, this wasn't their first rodeo outside of school grounds with a crazy human.

Mr Branson greeted the girls warmly and removed his hat. He wore the uniform of a military officer, not the regular suede jackets and brown pants they were used to seeing him in, and seeing him so well dressed was throwing some girls for a loop.

"Good morning ladies!" He chirped, again, his demeanor seemingly betraying the gruff and professional impression he made. "Welcome to Nelson Air Force Museum! As you all know, hopefully, Semester exams will be starting next month, and you will be required to undergo a period of somewhat excessive stress. Consequently, with help from the Dean, the Superintendent and some buddies of mine from the Air Force, I have something very special planned. You are more than old enough to handle something of this serious calibre, so lets get started. Follow me to the Tarmac please, this is going to be very special."

The girls followed as ordered and in neat single file, marched together into the clear skies and bright morning sun. It was a perfect day for almost anything. In this case, flying. The girls seemed somewhat unnerved by the sight of all the old military equipment seemingly arrayed before them. Nestled in the middle of a semi circle of old warplanes, sat a haphazardly assembled classroom underneath some shade tarps. The girls all blushed nervously, noting how a separate 'classroom' underneath another shade tarp, had assembled a few dozen pilots, airmen and aircrews, all of whom were in full uniform.

They were in the midst of a briefing of sorts and ignored the arrival for the most part as the students found their seats. A blackboard and various pictures and posters were brought up, each one relating to the various aircraft arrayed around them.

"Well fantastic, skies are clear, wind is calm, and it's almost time for the exhibition. Today, you are going to learn about a critical part of our, and very soon, your very own history. The history of powered flight! You see arrayed before you, various aircraft from distinct periods of human history. I'm going to make the assumption you all studied the textbooks you were given last week, so let's get started with the first question: who can tell me what these aircraft are?" Mr Branson asked his class.

The students all instantly raised their hands, as expected. Mr Branson chose one of the Catgirls to answer. "The Sopwith Camel, The Supermarine Spitfire, the Soviet MiG-25, the UK Avro Vulcan, the Thunderbolt 2 or 'Warthog', and the Sukhoi Su-57, sir."

"Absolutely excellent! Completely expected from the top students of the best universities in the country, no surprise you got it perfectly. Yes! Well done Alarissa, very well done. The five most distinct aircraft from various points in history. There is a sixth one... But that's a surprise for later. Now, who can tell me in what capacity these vehicles served in their respective times?" Mr Branson asked.

Again, every student's hand shot up, and the only Dryad in the group spoke, her voice so gentle and calm it actually snapped some of the soldiers nearby out of their trained stances. "The Sopwith served as a fighter. The Supermarine served as a fighter craft in World War two. The MiG was built as an interceptor. The Avro Vulcan as a strategic bomber craft, The thunderbolt saw use as a Close Air Support craft, and the Sukhoi served as a multirole fighter craft."

"Absolutely excellent Clarise, top notch!" Mr Branson chirped happily, receiving a small nod of approval from the officers surrounding. "Very good girls, very good. Who can tell me when they served?"

Again hands shot up and an Angel was chosen to answer. "World War One, World War Two, The Cold War, the Cold War again, the Gulf War, and The Unification War respectively, sir."

Mr Branson nodded approvingly with a smug smirk as he was glared at by officers nearby. "As expected you all know exactly what you are talking about. Even though it's only been a week, you studied well."

"We didn't want to be unprepared sir. It's only normal." A Catgirl quipped.

"True enough, but this isn't for schoolwork. I AM going to give you a short pop quiz to see if you studied of course, and it will count for extra credit, but this trip isn't JUST for educational purposes. No, no, this is for FUN. And I have something special planned just for you to help you relax and gain some new... perspective, shall we say, on the world around you. So first we begin. Everyone pay attention. We shall go through a short history of each of these fine aircraft before we begin. Pencils out!" He barked and began the lesson in earnest.

The soldiers and officers on duty likewise paid close attention to the lesson and learned a few things as Mr Branson got up close to each aircraft and gave a detailed explanation of the mechanical components and basic flight characteristics of each aircraft. For about two hours the lesson continued, interrupted only by occasional passers-by who joined the spectators such as aircrews, mechanics or service personnel. One such mechanic moved up to demonstrate how to remove the engine cowling from the Sukhoi for maintenance, and show how its innards looked as he inspected one of its turbofans.

At the tail end of the lesson, the airmen in the other class in the shade opposite all sounded off with various salutes and yells from the various factions within the Terran Navy, and made their way into the hangars nearby. The lesson finally ended when a huge blast of thunder was heard coming from high above them, as several large starships appeared out of jumpspace into earth's Atmosphere and started to descend to low altitude flight. The sight was rather shocking to all of the students, even those that were old enough to remember those very same warships above the skies of their homeworld.

"Well that's our cue ladies! Everyone, stand up, pack your bags and secure your belongings and textbooks! But before we do, Jessica, Loriena, Cambry, Andrea and Clarise, step forward please." He ordered.

The five girls filtered from the class and stood in front of him. Jessica - a Wolfgirl, Loriena - a Wolfgirl, Cambry - a High Elf, Andrea - an Angel, and Clarise, the group's only Dryad.

"The five of you are the best, highest scoring students in your respective schools, consequently you qualify to join me in the ride of a lifetime. Today we will be doing a rehearsal for a Global Aviation festival that will be taking place in a few weeks and I am slated to join this festival as one of its pilots. I will be taking advantage of my position, and will be bringing you girls along for a practice flight, in one of our most famous aircraft." He said. The girls all perked up from the idea and tails wagged, wings flapped excitedly.

"Excellent, now, there isn't space, or time, as much as I want there to be, so for the rest of you, you will be put on a small airliner for a short hop to a nearby museum, where these fine young gentlemen and your teachers will be giving you a personal guided tour of the Airforce Museum about ten miles north." Mr Branson said, gesturing to three old and distinguished military men waiting for them near a shuttle bus. "Now as for the five of you, please follow me, thy chariot awaits!"

The girls all excitedly followed orders and their respective chaperones, the five best following Mr Branson into one of the nearby hangars. They were greeted by the imposing façade of one of World War Two's most infamous mechanical monsters, fully painted in its signature silverplate paintjob - the B-29 Superfortress. Flanked to the left and right in formation by two other similar craft, one painted a dark blue, and the other painted a scarlet red. The huge machines seemed to take the girls off their sure footing as their teacher approached the lead plane.

"Say hello to the Boeing B-29-70 BW Superfortress Strategic Bomber, in service 1942 to 1960. To the left, the Boeing 377 Stratocruiser, the civilian airliner variant, and the Tupolev Tu-4, a reverse engineered Soviet copy of the B-29. Now, for references sake, all these aircraft are custom made copies built using modern tech and equipment, as well as safety standards, because the original variants are either permanently in museums, or are long lost to the sands of time due to various factors such as natural disasters or military incursions during the Unification War of 2050. Today, we will be joining seventy three other aircraft from across history in a short test flight across the U.S. mainland in this beautiful machine!" Mr Branson said.

The girls all shared concerned, if not terrified glances as they made note of how the aircraft in front of them were all prepared for their task, ready for take-off.

The first thing they had to go through however was a full demonstration of how to wear and safely use several specially made parachutes, for just in case of course. Five men would be joining them on the flight, each one holding a particular role, and would be acting as their chaperone for the flight, and their main point of contact just in case something bad happened. The probability of anything going wrong was absurdly low, but safety always wins out.

Eventually each girl was introduced to her instructor for the flight. Sergeant Major 'Cal' who would be the Copilot, Mr Branson would be the pilot, Flight Lieutenant 'Sparks' would be their navigator, Staff Sergeant 'Rocket' would be the bombardier, and one of the service crew named 'Rico' would be the flight engineer for the mission. As soon as they were inside and secured in their respective spots, the plane's engines were started and the aircraft began to move out of their spots by ground crews into the open air.

The airfield was busy, as dozens of other craft were in the process of taking off, being fuelled for the flight or were already taxiing for take-off. They had to wait for a bit as the girls got used to the cramped interior and stuffy quarters, their helmets keeping their sensitive ears safe from the massive roar of the aircraft's engines coming from all directions. Eventually the Boeing and its two sister craft got runway clearance. Butterflies fluttered through stomachs and the sense of wonder slowly returned as the three craft lifted into the air one by one and climbed into formation heading North.

The girls were all gobsmacked at the variety of strange, unique or beautiful aircraft from across history that flew past them or flew close to get a look. They could see through cockpit windows and passenger windows that they weren't the only students involved in this stunt, seeing Fox ears and devil horns from under headsets and wings hidden behind seats. Eventually the flight reached a peak and Mr Branson spoke through the headsets in the plane, giving his students a lecture telling them what aircraft they could see. Eventually, one of the Destroyer class warships had reached cruising speed and altitude and was now flying in formation alongside several smaller craft. Mr Branson flew the plane nearby so the girls could take a closer look at the two hundred foot long armour plated behemoth that dwarfed all the propeller, jet and turboprop craft now surrounding it.

"This is the USSMC 'Oligarch' Assault Destroyer, specifically built as a frontline combat craft. As you can see, she can easily match the speed of a lot of propeller and early jet aircraft when in atmosphere despite her size! This particular beast was actually one of the first Destroyer designs ever used during the Sol War of '86! Its about a hundred and fifty years old, one of the oldest serving active starships in the fleet! It's any wonder why she's here to join us for this exhibition, it may be a starship, but it's a pivotal part of history!" Mr Branson bellowed through the radio as the ship slowly passed them by.

The girls all stared in awe, chattering over each other as they spoke about the ship and what it meant to them, especially Clarise, who was actually rescued along with her family on one such machine from their doomed homeworld. The flight was stable, calm, with little else happening save the occasional lecture when a plane of particular note or interest flew past them. Eventually however, the formation grew to an extent where over a hundred aircraft were flying in formation together.

"Okay, ladies, here's the part where you earn your extra credit! All crew to stations, listen to your operators! Coming in for a practice bombing run!" Mr Branson barked as he banked the plane to the left, heading East towards the desert.

The girls all went wide-eyed at the message and scrambled to follow their respective officers directions.

"Okay here's the plan. We, along with a few other bomber craft, will drop a huge canister full of fireworks that will make a pretty display when they hit the ground, just like an actual bomb, but colourful. We are going to be the plane that will set the mark, because ours is ten canisters, five red dye bombs that will mark the target, followed by five FSX canister charges that will mimic the act of carpet bombing! You will follow your operators orders and do as they show you, and we will mark a bomb zone for other craft to follow!" Mr Branson said and turned the plane to his target.

The girls all scrambled and took out notepads and pencils to jot down what notes they could as they were told what needed to be done. Jessica and Cambry both got impromptu lessons on piloting, how to hold the plane steady and keep on target using the various reticules and instruments available. Loriena was taught how to use the analogue navigation charts to plot their course, with 'Sparks' making sure the calculations were right with more modern tech. Andrea was perched in the back seat with the service engineer, showing her how the various gauge clusters worked and making sure she knew what a few particular instruments showed, to be sure they were in flying condition.

Clarise had the mot important job, and she paid very, very close attention to the instructions as 'Rocket' showed her, in painstaking detail, how to operate the bomb sight and bomb bay doors. The girls were all taught, shown and corrected as they flew another fifteen minutes at full speed towards their target - an empty zone of desert sand used as an artillery firing range - in front of the formation.

"Two minutes to drop zone! Stations! Clarise, do you know where we are dropping our cargo?" Mr Branson asked.

"An artillery firing range in the desert sir. We are one minute out according to this thing." She replied in earnest, her voice gaining an air of nervousness.

"Good, follow the orders and we will do well! Reducing speed by twenty knots, three miles to target." The co-pilot yelled and the plane's engines whined a bit to signal the speed was being reduced.

A few moments later, the bomb bay doors opened, exposing the ten large barrel sized canisters to the light under the plane.

Clarise carefully plotted angles and set reticules, making sure each time she changed something or moved something, she moved to make sure the bombardier had the right target. She did. Soon enough, their target appeared - a collection of small cars and vans parked in the middle of the desert in various colours, surrounded by what appeared to be sandbags.

"I see them!" She yelled.

"Commence bombing run. Drop in Five... Four... three... Two... One... Let 'em go!" Rocket said.

With a flip of her thumb, a lever was hit and a mechanical click signified a release. The canisters all dropped, each one releasing an ominous 'ticking' sound as they left the vehicle's bomb bay.

"Bombs away!"

Clarise and the other girls all watched as the bombs flew down. The canister's shells split open from small explosions and dozens upon dozens of small baseball sized bomblets appeared, spreading out into a wide area. The girls could see the individual bomblets fall to the ground and seconds later, the bombs hit the ground. The bulk of the bombs hit the ground in a straight pattern of an arrow, the cars being hit by the middle of the munitions cloud and all exploding in turn in a fiery blast that rocked the plane as it flew past.

The bombs that weren't explosive all released a very thick biodegradable dye mix that coated the ground in a smattering of red, white and blue around the bomb site. the explosives spread the dye further out and created a strange but delightful pattern, all with the large plume of smoke that rose from the exploded cars.

"That was perfect Clarise! Well done, all of you. Now find a window seat to the left, we are going to watch the rest of the fleet do the same thing where we marked the ground!" Mr Branson yelled as he kicked the engines to full and turned the plane.

The plane moved and sped up, staying at a decent altitude above the display as twenty other large bomber craft followed their same planned route and easily did the same bombing pass. the girls went wide-eyed at the sight of so much ordinance and so many planes passing, and every one released the same canisters they were carrying, resulting in a further splattering of dye, or a huge explosion that spread the dye further out, or mixed it into the pattern with other colours.

"And that's all she wrote! ladies, you have just witnessed the military practice of Carpet Bombing! I hope it was fun! Let's re-join the formation, and get back home!" Mr Branson yelled, and turned the craft to join up with the rest of the planes as they started to fly back to the airfield they came from.

The girls all sat in silence as they looked around, wondering what they even did but revelling in the event itself. When they finally landed each of them excitedly embraced each other and squealed in delight, finally coming to terms with the adrenaline rush they were all going through from the whole event. Mr. Branson let them have their fun and waited for the shuttle bus to come pick them up to get back together with the rest of the students at the museum for a late lunch.

"Everything still intact Ensign?" I was being cautious. We needed to be. Not just because of FTL but also our rather dangerous cargo.

She looked at me with one of her eye stalks. "All systems fully operational captain. No change to cargo."

"Good, good. Then everything is going to plan. If this does what I think it will do, this means lucrative hauling contracts for decades to come. I hope." I replied and carefully read the ship manifest for the twelfth time.

"What exactly are we hauling captain?" She asked with concern.

"I will tell you when we get there. Its not the cargo its the destination. If my intel is correct, then we should be fine." I replied.

She tilted her eye stalk in my direction, a look that conveyed suspicion. "This does not bode well."

"Everything is under control Klax'tl, just relax and follow my lead." I replied with a side glance.

She nervously shrugged and returned to her duties. I checked the cargo again, making sure all the tanks were still pressurized and sealed. They were. Good.

"Entering target system in... 3. 2. 1. Realspace."

My navigator's words seemed to bely the point of 'real' space as we entered the star system, and were immediately surrounded by the Terrans absurdly well armed warships.

"You did not tell me this was TERRAN space! ARE YOU INSANE!?" Ensign barked at me as she lifted herself out of her seat in a defensive posture.

"SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN! If you are ever going to trust me, trust me now. I know what I am doing. Open frequencies." I commanded and let my crew work. Seconds later a viewing screen lowered from the ceiling and showed me a human warship captain in full battle dress.

"State business, ship identity and cause for presence." He barked. Menacing creatures. Vicious, menacing creatures.

"Thraxx Thran'Tarr, Orderly Merchant of the Saranai Imperium. Ship Ident is Class Five 'Corsica Pattern Light Freighter', Serial Five-Five-Nine-Code Two. I have an appointment with the local waste disposal unit. Sending details now." I said and typed something on my console.

"Hold." He said, and started working. I heard typing and conversation in the background, and waited. "Shipping manifest matches cargo scan. Crew count matches scan, all details match. Please explain for the record why you are two hours late?" He asked.

"Considering my cargo I had to make absolutely sure there were no mistakes, so I made some extra precautions that set me back a while. Sorry about that, but I figured of all people you would appreciate being careful." I said with a  smile.

"True." He said and typed something. "Corsair Class destroyer is on your right flank to escort you to the station dock, maintain five hundred to eight hundred meter distance at all times. Do NOT deviate. Tug will tow you into dock, follow Hazard Protocol as directed when secured. Understand?"

"Solid copy, five to eight hundred, tow to dock, follow instructions. Crystal clear." I replied back, maintaining my smile.

"Clearance granted. Gift shops open, beds made, doors unlocked. Welcome to Elysium." He said, returning my smile.

"Thank you. Navigator Klaxxxin, follow that ship as directed and relinquish control when the tugs grab us. You have a nice day now."

"Same to you." He smiled, his expression conveying genuine warmth.

"Transferring navigator to directed frequency, maintaining minimal connection. All crew prepare to disembark and manage cargo." Ensign ordered as she spoke into the ship's internal comms.

The ship moved with the expertise I would expect from a veteran navigator I had to steal from a navy fleet officer in a card game. He followed instructions with absolute perfection as expected and started working on shutting the ships main engines down as soon as the tugs grabbed us. Before long we were in the station dock. It was now I noticed something was off.

"Hmm... Something's not right here." I said.

Ensign jumped at the chance. "And yet you doubted ME?"

"Oh shut up!" I barked. She recoiled. "Everything is exactly as I expected it to be and what I was after. I'm just a bit confused about something." I said.

"And... that would be-?" Klaxxxin asked, curling a claw at me.

"Why do these humans have a thriving and what appears to be long standing toxic waste processing plant on a Paradise world?"

The crew all glared at me and checked their own readings. Indeed, the planet we were above was a world that would easily classify in the galaxy at large as a thriving Paradise World, a place that every lifeform in the galaxy would love to live on. And there, in the centre of it all, was a massive half-continent sized factory that was saturated in sealed tanks and heavy industry, the kind that would make Emperors flinch on understanding what was in there.

"What are we here for?" Ensign asked.

"Too late to say no now, so we're here to test something. The four forward tanks are full of Gorgozdin, and the two rear tanks contain Scaparius V. The cargo bays contain depleted fuel rods and other radioactive materials. We are here to pay the humans to dispose of it all for us." I said, making the crew recoil and slink into their shells in horror.

Before they could object further, a human appeared once again on my screen and smiled, this one less... evil looking. "Well howdy, welcome to Elysium Waste Disposal! Have your cargo manifest here, ready to start work. You good to go?" He asked cheerfully.

"When my crew have managed to retrieve their flabbered-gasts off the floor, yes. I have shown you some blueprints and access hatches, where everything is as best I am allowed to. Are our systems compatible?" I asked.

He typed and looked about a bit, likely referencing material on separate screens. "Yeah we got pipes and cargo with those specs easy, got to bring them in and we can start pumping. As for solid cargo, a proper hazmat team will be on docking port shortly. Need to borrow Hangar fours forklift though. Should take about two hours for full transfer. You cool with that?"

"I am indeed 'cool' with that. Are you sure you can handle this cargo? I assure you it is extremely difficult for us to process these materials safely. I can only imagine what it's like for you." I said.

He chuckled, audibly and visibly laughing at the concept. "No sir, the stuff you have is not even half as bad as some crap we used to deal with. Gorgozdin is similar in structure to a chemical known as Sarin. We know how to filter it out and separate the molecular structure and capture the stuff that makes it not that. Shouldn't be too hard to jury-rig a few extra filters. As for Scaparius V? Funny name, by the way, easily dealt with. That stuff's basically just LSD with a bit of a petroleum motif to it. That's no issue at all. Neutralizing agents for that have existed for centuries." He said with a shrug.

"That is very concerning. You have dealt with this for centuries?" Ensign asked.

"Yep! Centuries. Even used Sarin for warfare once... Those were dark times. But, we fixed it. As for the nuclear material, we will be happy to take that off your hands. Depleted Uranium and Expended Deuterium are excellent catalysts for making ammunition for heavy weaponry. That will come in very handy, depending on quality, you might leave here with a little something from us. That's good stuff right there. Geiger's a bit higher than normal though, need a bit more shielding for that." he said, typing on the screen. "HEY MEL! Tell Hangar Four to grab the big Leaded pallets for the nuke cargo! Stuffs still fresh!" He yelled at someone off screen.

"Got it boss!" I heard a voice yell back.

The crew and I shared a concerned glance in turn with these revelations. The rumours about human insanity were very... Very true.

"I have... A question." Klaxxxin asked, bringing himself off his chair and in front of the screen next to me.

"Go on, ask, I'm all ears!" The human seemed strangely excited to answer questions.

"Why do you have a gigantic toxic waste processing plant on a Paradise World?"

"Paradise World? No idea what you mean by that man but let me answer that question with another question. Wouldn't you like to preserve something beautiful in every way you can?" the human replied.

"Well obviously but-"

"Then there's your answer. Incentive. Nice planet. Toxic Waste processing. There's a reason you are here with us and not by yourself, our industry is a LOT more advanced than yours is. Because of incentive. The incentive to keep the planet we live on clean and pretty. But also the incentive to maintain a planetary economy. Get what I'm saying here? The reason we are so good at what we do - is because we HAVE to be. Toxic chemicals leak - planet dies. Planet dies, home, jobs, life dies with it. Not good. Simple as." He replied, shrugging his shoulders.

We all shared glances of confusion. "In what universe does that actually make any sense? Why not just have a dedicated world for garbage disposal?"

"Because it would be a horrible place to live or work? Look, I don't know what your cultural practices are, but wandering around in a sealed bunker wearing full hazmat suits all day every day isn't exactly comfortable or acceptable, not to us at least. I consider this place home and the absolute last thing I want is to have toxic waste on my front door. But, it still exists, and you still have to get rid of it to keep everything clean - so waste disposal facilities, recycling plants, chemical reprocessing plants, atmospheric scrubbers. We dealt with this LONG before we got to the stars dude. Our homeworld, used to be a damn mess. Then we fixed it." He said.

We tilted our heads and thought about it. "Well... That was... simpler than I thought it would be. That made a lot more sense than I was expecting it to."

"You weren't expecting our explanation to make sense?"

"Well I-" I got a bit nervous and rubbed the back of my neck.

He pointed at me with a scowl and said "Cheeky."

We nervously shuffled apologetically. "Sorry..."

"You don't have to be sorry, you just need to not be silly. In any case, retrieval team is ready to go. Open starboard cargo access so we can get the forklifts in and start offloading." He asked.

"Understood, opening cargo access port number three. You said something about using this material for weaponry?" Klax'tl asked.

"Yup. We have a use for everything. Nothing ever wasted. Just like our ancestors used to use. Even if something has no purpose, we will either create a purpose, or process it down to the point where it can be turned into something useful. Nothing ever wasted. That's the idea anyway. You know, within reason." He replied typing on his console.

Klaxxxin stepped forward. "I have... another question."

"Then ask it."

"You said you have 'use' for this material? Toxic waste and such. How exactly do you 'use' it?" He asked.

"That's easy. Use various chemical processes and catalysts to neutralise the 'toxic' part of the toxic waste, rendering it to just plain waste. Then we use further processing to figure out what it actually can be used for, and a LOT of toxic waste products when cleaned up, can be used in a huge variety of other industries. Lets take Scaparius V for example. It's basically LSD with some extra molecules that resemble petroleum. Split that formula with some heat and catalytic processes and boom, you have a synthetic petroleum product that we can use in automotive industries or convert to lubricant. As for LSD? That's a good base for some medications and psychosis drugs we use." He just shrugged and carried on typing.

"These processes... Are they dangerous?"

"Yup. That's why we are big on safety. Pressurised tanks, high density gases, closed systems and thousands of pipes. No accidents reported for..." He checked his notes. "Seventeen years, two months, twelve days. Yes we do count tripping over a bucket as an 'accident' on site. That's how seriously we take this safety thing." He said with an accusatory glare.

I wondered where Klaxxxin was going with this. "In which case... Is there some way we can acquire the schematics or access to these chemical processes too?"

That's where he was going.

"Well sort of. The processes for a lot of waste disposal and catalytic conversion processes are public knowledge and readily available but some bits relating to tech manufacturing are trade secrets. Got to keep a competitive economy after all. Here, I'll send you the stuff we got on that Scaparius stuff you have and you can learn how to fix that yourself." He pressed some buttons and seconds later, Ensign Klax'tl was hastily reading pages and pages of blueprints and chemical formulae.

"That brings me to why I'm here exactly. I would like to see if it's possible to negotiate a contract of some kind for mass disposal. Our shipbuilding industry produces these two toxic chemicals by the shipload and it will probably be a few years before we can make use of what you just sent us. Is there any way we can hire you somehow to dispose of our chemical waste?" I asked.

"Oh yeah sure. In fact you don't even need to pay us for it. You just dump your waste here and let us keep the resulting materials as payment, that will be enough. Could always use more Depleted Uranium frankly. Useful stuff. Just... Please remember to make an appointment first. We only have so much storage space."

This made me smile a lot more than I was supposed to. "That sounds like a good deal to me! When can we start?"

"Hold on one moment. Some of these chemical processes make no sense. Some require a lot more work and effort compared to the end result, yet you do so anyway. It would be a lot easier just to dump it and let it decay naturally. There are billions of planets that can easily be used for this reason. So why go through all this trouble?" Ensign asked.

"Two reasons, morally and ecologically. One, just dumping toxic waste on a planet is a very evil thing to do. I'm basically making my waste products someone else's problem millions of years into the future. And that's just not right is it? Morally I can't be tossing my garbage on someone else's front lawn even if they haven't been born yet. It hurts the planet too. Just because it's a barren lifeless rock doesn't give me the right to make it any worse, does it? And the most important reason? Blue skies, clean water, green grass. I like my home. I like my home clean. Even if it takes more than needed, the extra steps are worth a clean sky. 'Nuff said really." He replied with a shrug.

"That... Makes sense."

"I have to ask. How did you come up with this process? I mean... This chemical formulation is absurdly complex!" Ensign asked.

"Oh that's easy. We have this planet back home called Venus. Carbon dioxide atmosphere, toxic sulphur land, heavy metal storms and boiling lead oceans. We terraformed it. Made it liveable. We learned a lot about chemistry to do that. That was fun." He said with a smile.

"Why did you terraform a planet like THAT?" I asked.

"To see if we could? I dunno. Never knew the reason. It was there, and we could, I guess? No idea." He shrugged at us and carried on typing.

We shared glances, as if we all knew at once 'There's the insanity I was looking for'.

"Anyway, stuff’s offloaded, if you'd care to wait around a bit we will assess the cargo and see if we need to pay you a bonus for the extra stuff. You cool with that?" He asked.

"Yes we are indeed cool with that. Let me get in contact with my supplier and Patron back home before we negotiate a price first, I have to do this legally. This is after all some very bad stuff, I have to comply with regulatory statutes. Can't be selling expended nuclear material to just anyone after all." I replied.

"That's understandable. Soon as cargo is fully secured and tanks are empty I'll open the doors and let you into the lift down to the surface. I'll make sure you have a place o stay for a week while we do paperwork. See you soon."

"Great Days And Glorious Victory! Welcome back to the disturbing sociopathic wet dream that is Fallout new Vegas... The more I learn, the less I want to be here. But, we soldier on, as the saying goes... hm. I'm starting to use more and more human phrases of late. I think it's getting to me."

Spiff starts off where he left off - The Strip - and heads to Goodsprings to start off and test his newly acquired weaponry. Although he has very limited ammunition with most of the guns.

"I know I have low ammo but I am determined to test at least a little and see what they do before I put them to pasture till I have more bullets. For some reason in a post-apocalyptic wasteland we seem to have a shortage of ammunition. Who knew?"

Spiff heads into Chet's store to buy more ammo and medical supplies then heads down the road to Jean's Sky Diving, this time turning left to go north. On the way he encounters some Powder Gangers and gets to test one of his new guns, The Enforcer, and puts both down with ease. He moves towards the NCR Corrections Facility and wastes a few bullets while taking down a pack of dogs.

"This thing is VERY fancy but I'm awful with it. Prefer shotguns or my Service rifle. Now what is this place?"

He walks towards the new location and while searching the empty caravans, he starts taking hits from the guard towers. He emits a strange warbling noise of surprise before eventually finding what's shooting at him. The gun does excessive damage especially to these low level thugs, and within a few moments Dawes, two men in the tower and two others that chased Spiff outside are dead. He loots everything then heads inside.

"These are the same bunch that attacked Goodsprings I think. Is this a base of theirs?"

He heads in and immediately activates VATS on load. Three Gangers and Meyers. He gets lucky, and all three Gangers are dead in quick succession.

"My God, that is useful! But I have to ask a question, what kind of tech does THAT? Or maybe it's not the PipBoy, maybe it's the player? What kind of Eldritch abomination am I playing as? Food for thought."

Spiff fights his way through the Compound and has a standoff on the tower, realizing his new high calibre pistol isn't good at long ranges, and he gets crippled legs for his troubles during a duel with a guy on an opposing tower.

"Okay lesson learned, pistols are no good at long distances. What do I have to use hmm... You know what? The reason it isn't working is because I'm too far away. So what say I give Maria a try? That's Benny's gun I think."

He does indeed leave the tower and go down to meet the thug, scoring an easy kill with two bullets at close range.

"Well, there you go!"

He shrugs and has a mid-distance duel, Maria coming out on top once again as a very good gun. Spiff loots the place before clearing out both Bunkhouses and eventually heading into the Main Office using the new Rifle, the Phallic Firearm, as his main choice. It's a Ruger 5.56 Rifle with a strange coat of pink and purple paint. In the bunkhouses on a bedframe underneath the Powder Charge blueprint, he finds the Tooookarev. Which he picks up, equips, and tests out. It's a 9mm Tokarev, with a ridiculous 42 round extended mag and it's just as silly as it sounds. But it's Spiffles now..

Spiff tests it in Cell Block A on two Gangers. The recoil is absurd, the muzzle flash blocks the whole screen, but it IS very silly, and very funny to use.

"That... I wouldn't be surprised if something like this actually exists to be honest. With what I have seen thus far, human weaponry really has no limitations. Francine, insert clip of human fleet using their new cannons on the frontline please."

Francine, Spiffs editor, does exactly that and the screen transitions to the sight of a Terran/Saranai warship fleet engaging in a mass fleet battle. Human ships very clearly outrange their adversary, and with shocking precision, are helping bombard the enemy from extended ranges while Saranai fleets close the distance to hit them with their plasma cannons and lasers. The screen transitions back to a slightly smug looking Spiff as he switches guns again.

"Cheeky look at current events, I'm getting better at this job! Anyway, to the Main Offices we go. Probably not using that thing again, it is... ridiculous."

He enters the main office with the rifle equipped and proceeds to make short work of Hannigan and two guards. The way the building is laid out, allows the rest of the Gangers to filter down the stairs and get mowed down in succession. He quickly loots the place clean and walks back out to the main road North.

"That was easy. Low level thugs to be sure but I was expecting more of a fight at this stage. Got some good stuff from there, can get a decent amount of caps. North we go.

He heads up the road as planned and wipes out a few Powder Ganger encampments and clearing out a few other random spots. While looting and choosing a weapon he finds a name - Eugene - and equips it.

"IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS!?"

Spiff emits a strangely pleasurable squeal of joy when he hauls out a six barrelled Minigun called Eugene he bought from the Gunrunners and forgot about. There isn't much ammunition for it, maybe three reloads worth, but he gets very giddy about it.

"I have heard tales of these ridiculous behemoths before. In fact, Francine, if you would please!"

One can almost hear the eye-rolling as Francine cuts the screen and shows a screenshot of a Terran Legionnaire flanked by a group of Saranai warriors with plasma cannons boarding an enemy warship. The Terran is carrying a small but high calibre minigun with three barrels.

The screen cuts back to Spiff and he resumes, his smug smirk getting slightly more prominent. "Right, let's see what this thing can do. I have to be careful with ammo so I will go back to my rifle for now."

He gets close to Sloan and is interrupted by Chomps Lewis, who warns him of one of the game's most dangerous and iconic enemies - the Deathclaw.

"Death...Claw? Deathclaw? That's a very... Deliberate name. What does one look like? Humans are normally very good with games and that seems... Very much on the nose. Let's look about then."

The first thing he encounters is Snuffles, the pet Mole Rat. He talks to it and passes the Medical check easily.

"My GOD look at that! The detail in this game, a game so very old and so very, very, VERY broken and buggy, but the detail! Before I did the medical check, the creature was limping. The animation has changed, it no longer limps! THAT is attention to detail right there. See, this is what makes games ART. It's the detail, the time to make something so simple, yet so important. That's what I love about this!"

Spiff collects the reward for fixing Snuffles' leg and then quicksaves before heading down the road. His first encounter is with a young variant but its enough of a shock to his system as he spots the first one.

"What in the mothers milk made them come up with THAT damn thing!? What even is that!? Horns, claws, hunched over, WHAT IS THAT!?"

Spiff isn't able to contemplate the concept as he is faced with his first big one. Then, if the viewer listens closely enough, one can almost hear Francine grin ear to ear as she starts a montage sequence featuring Spiff facing off against the Deathclaw nest. The montage is a seven and a half minute highlight reel of Spiffle being repeatedly eviscerated while trying new weapons, being scared literally out of his seat by one that jumped at him from seemingly nowhere, and him accidentally dropping dynamite at his feet, blowing himself to pieces several times. By the end of it all Spiff seems somewhat deflated in his enthusiasm.

Until he remembers Eugene.

He equips the minigun and proceeds to go on a Rampage of epic proportions as he makes absurdly fast work of the Deathclaw nest (after the twentieth time he had to quickload), all to the backdrop of the Doom soundtrack. Appropriate.

"Now... let's see what loot is here. the.. Deathclaw Hunter? Some kind of high calibre rifle. And a Light Machinegun, plus some eggs. Those are pretty valuable eggs! I'll take those. Right, back to Sloan for my reward."

He collects the reward, a boost in faction reputation that easily offsets his issues with the NCR while working for House, and a few NCR bills. Then he heads further north, killing twenty more Deathclaws that were on the road there, getting a level up and the Jury-Rigging perk in the process. He moves about, engaging Fire Geckos and has to switch back to the standard rifle owing to the lack of ammunition and makes his way past Whittaker Farmstead, entering a disused parking lot.

"Vault... Nineteen? What's that? What's a Vault? Is it the nineteenth version or something?"

Spiff enters, and Francine has to intervene, overlaying the screen with the message 'he sat there doing this for twenty minutes' as Spiff watches in fascination with the Vault Door Mechanism opening and closing. The Vault itself is flush with Escaped Convicts and Fire Geckos, and to the tune of Benny Hill, a short highlight reel of Spiff gunning his way through the vault follows. Eventually he finishes and starts looting the place before encountering his first bit of lore - A keycard for the Red Sector sitting on a table by a terminal.

"Hmm... ‘No reason for filters to fail... Blues did it? Start whispering... Plotting what to do next’? Okay... that is... Concerning. What is this place? Is there more?"

Spiff indeed finds more and wanders about collecting everything he can, reading the occasional terminal. One such terminal entry makes him visibly wince.

"I think they're in my head, sometimes I hear thoughts not my own. I think the Reds have done something to the Intercom system, rigged it somehow to broadcast into our brains.' What the hell is going on? The last entry said something about 1:30 in the morning. What time is it? Its actually close. I wonder if that detail even exists."

Sure enough, at around 1:30, for five in-game minutes, if a player stands close to one of the intercom speakers, one can actually hear a strange short burst of radio emission, almost indiscernible from the background noise.

"What in blue blazes is this place... Why is everyone so paranoid? Must find more."

Spiff eventually finds the Rec room, and a unique gun called Chop Shop which is one of the oddest rifles Spiff has ever seen. It looks like a cut down AK with no stock, and the magazine protruding from the top of the gun, like a makeshift Lewis Gun.

"How... What!? That's... New. I'll test it later. More searching."

Spiff eventually enters the Clinic and finds the Patient logs, going through each one.

"'Panic attacks'? What's that? Is that a thing? 'Patronising nurses, increasingly hostile... Perceived hostility.' Uhhh… I don't like this for some reason. I don't know what's going on but I really don't like it. 'Ninth occurrence of being brought in by police'!? That's an interesting criminal record. 'Claim's voices are taunting him. Coming from grandfather's radio... Voices coming from within himself.' What the hell!? The last one. 'Claims to be 'outside' himself. Patient was off balance during episodes.' That is... Very disturbing! I really don't like this place!"

Spiff finds the Vault Overseers terminal.

"'Data corrupted... Fake medical Records!? That's not a good sign. Paranoia must be induced through non violent and non chemical means for it to be successful.' Paranoia!? NO! Nope, I'm out of here, I'm gone. I'm not doing this anymore. I'm out."

Spiff exits rapidly and doesn't look back, shaking his head the whole time. There is a strange edit here, the footage skipping ahead to Spiff being outside again, cutting down a group of Powder Gangers outside Whittaker Farmstead. He seems abnormally quiet, his face is pale, his eyes sunken, as if he has witnessed something truly awful. He is giving the camera a more prominent, more hollow death glare than usual.

"So... a few more levels. Must sell stuff and get more bullets."

Eventually he finds himself at Camp McCarran and wanders around looking for things to find. He searches through the local NPCs and talks to Corporal Sterling before leaving the area again. Still, he remains abnormally quiet, not commenting much beyond a twitch and fidget to what he sees. He heads through to The Thorn and eventually into Westside where he spends time with Klamath Bob to offload his loot. The entire time he remains relatively quiet, not commenting on much. He offloads gear, then heads to the Vendortron outside the Gun runners to buy ammo. He gets a few new guns on the way, including a makeshift Anti Materiel Rifle.

He tests out The Chop Shop, the gun recovered from Vault 19. A Combat Shotgun in the form of a Serbu Super-Shorty takes his fancy and as he tests it out he gets his smile back. He walks back into Freeside and ends it there, once again in silence.

The screen cuts to a new montage playing out, this one of Spiff returning to Vault 19 to look around and see what he can find, if anything. Eventually he gives up and looks at the wiki.

Spiff goes into a literal rabbit hole of insanity as he reads up on Vault 19 and a few others, stopping short of Vault 86 before fully spoiling his discovery of what was actually going on. The montage follows Spiff reading the articles and reading terminal entries out. To the left side of the screen is a still image of Spiffles face, to the right the live footage. The still image captures Spiff's slow descent into despair as each time he reads something, the image shows his expression change. The montage shows in excessive detail as Spiff reads something that makes him internally scream, he looks at the camera and one can actually see part of his soul die. Each still image shows his skin pale, his eyes go deeper, and the signature death glare gets more and more prominent.

Eventually the channel's outro plays followed by a blank screen with the voice of Francine herself asking a question.

"What evil has to be within humans, what monsters do you hide within yourselves, or what kinds of abominations must you have fought in your past, to stain your souls to such an extent to allow you to create the events that take place within these publications? Just what kind of monsters are you? Are you angels, or demons, or are you something that Angels and Demons fear?"

______________________________________________

TOP COMMENT: "That was... a bit much lol. You DO realize it's just a game right, that shit didn't happen lol"

Spiffs reply: "True enough... but art is a reflection of the soul. This qualifies as art. What kind of shit do you people get up to in order to create these insane fever dreams?"

Reply: "Cocaine, LSD, Beer, Vodka... Being forced to deal with Todd Howard and his dumbassery. That can drive anyone insane. Thankfully New Vegas didn't have his grubby influence spooged all over the game, so at least the stuff in Vegas actually makes sense. The stress of life and shit we do makes us slightly loopy and gives us the chance to do stuff like New Vegas. Trust me, compared to a LOT of other games we have, this is mild."

Reply: (translated from Eridani) "YOU CALL THAT MILD!?"

Reply: "Yep lol"

Reply: (translated from Eridani) "Well at least this war won't last long then. You can't win against insanity."