This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2024-07-02 20:08:38+00:00.


First

For Newest England

The wait was infuriating. Not the forty eight hours since she woke up. That was bad, and it had also shown her that the Axiom suppression collar around her neck was not coming off with her head in the way. And of all things a Jorgua can shift and alter, the head is off limits. Unless someone wants severe, and often incurable, disorders becoming the order of the day. And this situation is hard enough without a completely substandard mind. A simple grey room with white light, a reasonably comfortable chair that accommodates her lovely tail, a table and another chair on the opposite side. Standard tailless design on that one, so it’s no Jorgua, Nagasha, or any number of other species meant to sit there. No room for the tail and nowhere near large enough for a bigger species… The door opens and she’s finally greeted by her primary captor.

“Blythe’s Bounty. Tell me, was the destruction you caused deliberate or are you as incompetent as your master?”

“Considering you’ve never met the people I call master I’m going to assume you’ve mistaken me for being some agent of Blythe’s.” The man states. She will admit. He is incredibly handsome up close. Had he scales instead of skin she would consider this moment some part of a very suggestive dream.

Add a slight muzzle and a tail poking out ever so and he’d be a subtle form and…

Her mind snaps back into place. It’s much harder to focus without Axiom to keep her on the straight and narrow. One’s mind is their most powerful tool and…

“So you were shockingly hated, even among those that you favoured and protected. Apparently laying the blame for all evils on races so common that everyone everywhere has one for a friend or family member doesn’t win you many hearts or minds. Funny that.” The Man states.

“Who are you? Really.”

“I’m in charge now former Vatras Millena. There is some debate as to what my title will be. But I’m entering the noble class for the second time in my life.” The Man states.

“Lucky you…” She hisses out trying to get some bearing on this situation. The damn collar was scrambling everything. She could barely control her tail, let alone control it with the minute attention to detail that she preferred. It was just a crude club in the here and now. Barely responding to her impulses and commands.

“If you’re looking for a name it’s Masterson Sir Philip Masterson.”

“Sir.”

“I consider my knighting by the queen of my homeland one of the proudest moments of my life. On the same tier as my descendants taking their first breaths or steps and seeing my students fully come into their own. There is a great power to legacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

She merely growls at him.

“No… you wouldn’t would you. The information I compiled about you tells me that you care very little for what happens outside of your own power. Care little for the rest of the galaxy. A pattern of behaviour that is a couple decades old… and no older.” Philip notes as he pulls out a paper folder with her picture on it in the corner. He holds up a few pieces and her eyes widen to show that it’s a physical report on her. “So, for the sake of curiosity and little else, when and why did you decide that everyone who is not a reptile is inherently lesser? It shows here, eighteen years and five months ago was your first blatant act of racism.”

“Racism? We’re not one species! We’re different!”

“And if we were to have some horizontal entertainment is there or is there not a more than fair chance of a healthy child?”

“It’s the Axiom that does that.”

“Yes, it binds us, penetrates us and most relevantly to this conversation. Unites us. So long as Axiom continues to act in the way it does then the differences between you and me are more akin to separate demographics of one massively varied species than two species.”

“No, different demographics of the same species produce a hybrid child with the traits of both.”

“And a hypothetical child between you and I would have Human and Jorgua traits.”

“But they would be a Human or Jorgua…” Millena pauses. “You’re not a Tret with modifications at all, are you?”

“No.” Philip remarks.

“So it’s true, madness lives in cruel space.” She hisses and he smirks.

“Oftentimes the distinction between madness and genius is based solely upon results. So I can state by that metric I’m far closer to genius than madness.” Philip notes as he places three different papers on the table. “I know it was ultimately victory that twisted you and your fellow Vatras. However I’m trying to determine exactly what the catalyst was, the easy life where few opposed you merely fed into something already present. It’s not evident in this cluster of behaviour, showing up faintly in this cluster two years later, and a single year after that is absolutely blatant. What happened to turn you from a fair and clear minded commander into a racist, or speciest, despot within a mere four year span?”

“THAT is what this is about?” She asks pointedly and he shrugs.

“It’s not like there are any more secrets you have. I know all about your early career and skill. Between the four of you you were more or less perfect as commanders. Battlefield Strategy and Defencive actions from Blythe. Shuun could feed cities into obesity during a famine. Bramastra could break a veteran force twice the size of her own with only fresh recruits and you my dear were able to keep massive supply and logistical trains working so smoothly that even in the chaos of front line combat munitions, relief and reinforcements was as plentiful as water in a rain storm.”

Millena says nothing.

“You know, I had a surplus of options. Even within The Empire of Gavali, there are another two worlds which had everything. But the Vatras.”

“What?”

“Make no mistake madam. I am one of the best. Period. Not limited to location or species or temporal placement. I am one of the best operatives to ever exist. I am a national treasure in my homelands. I raised myself up from a little boy living in the poorer parts of London and into a crown jewel of the empire as surely as the literal jewels upon the actual crown.”

“Good for you.” She snips out. He’s gone off topic and she has no intention of trying to steer the conversation. This is an interrogation, the less she speaks and the more she listens the better for her. If he wants to give up psychological weaknesses, then that’s all well and good now, isn’t it?

“I have told you this, because when I look at the reports of you Blythe, Bramastra and Shuun working for The Empire of Gavali. I see peers, near and perhaps full on equals to myself. And now you have fallen. When you first took this world, it was reputation alone that kept The Empire away. Kept it away long enough for the War Stations to be built, crewed and by the time they sent their forces sniffing around the system was nearly impregnable! At the time you know as well as I that The Empire could, would and DID field troops in the Trillions! With their fleet tonnage measured in the quintillions. That’s enough fire power to wipe out four worlds in a single afternoon. And now you’re…” He gestures to her in seeming confusion, disgust and despair. “This! My war with you was always going to be one sided. But that you have fallen so far made it one sided in my favour.”

He slams the folder onto the table and stands up, adjusts his cuffs and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to get a breath of fresh air. When I return, I expect an answer as to how you fell so far and so thoroughly. Your pardon please.”

Then he sweeps out of the room. Leaving Millena to her thoughts. Her thoughts and the file on herself. On what he knows about her…

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“Told you.” Philip notes as they see her reading over her own file. Security feeds and cameras were wonderful things.

“You really think that there’s hope for the Vatras?” Mechie asks.

“Hmm… I don’t know. But the people of Lavaron are still highly opposed to the Death Penalty.” Philip says. “But we’ll see. Honestly the locals are far more forgiving than I thought. Already they surprise me.”

“Yeah, I’d have lined them up in front of some construction equipment and sold seating with complementary gore ponchos for the people in the splash seats.” Mechie says and a disgusted Philip slowly turns to him. “What?”

“That’s foul.” Philip remarks.

“I’ll get a proper swear out of you someday.”

“If you want me to swear just say so it…”

“No! It has to be organic! I need a solid ‘What the FUCK!?’ out of you!” Mechie explains.

“What the fuck?” Philip tries and Mechie sighs and shakes his head.

“No no no! That’s stale, boring and fake! I need it from the soul!” Mechie exclaims and Philip sighs. “See that? That was from the soul! Now I need rage, confusion and shock in it!”

Resisting the urge to flick the childish techno wiz in the ear. Philip looks over the next three files. Blythe, Bramastra, Millena and Shuun. The former platinum standard of The Empire of Gavali. Now a paranoid, a lunatic, a racist and a pervert. He really was curious as to what laid them all so low. Something was wrong. The mission was technically complete but…

“There’s more to do.” Philip trusts his instincts. He had reduced innumerable clear kills into mere scars by listening to them. Anastasia could attest for more than a few of them. His nigh unnatural ability to survive…


Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1dtvdoz/oocs_into_a_wider_galaxy_part_048/