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Broken wreckage and bleeding bodies littered the battlefield. Errant orbital fire had set a pristine forest or two alight. It had been grim work, but sheer numbers and sheer stubbornness had carried the day and seen the Cogites put to flight while the Cystian flag was planted in the ancient soil of Infinity. The pre-battle wetwork had also played a role; moral scruples mattered little when, as Cystians well knew, only the victors would decide what details would be remembered.
Of course, one of those they overcame had been not quite...human, and the epic nature of that battle could certainly not be forgotten.
“Everyone stay sharp,” Mizal advised her companions, snapping a fresh energy cell into one of her (many) guns. “There could still be Cogites lurking about, to say nothing of the natives. Weapons loaded and eyes peeled. We’re not done here until we find the mines.”
“What mines? What’s going on?” asked Corgi.
“The mines full of gems the ancients left behind,” Cricket explained. “We load them into our hold, jump on out of here and back to the core worlds, and then we’re rich!”
There was a dark chuckle. “What’s the hurry?”
Everyone looked up to see the enigmatic figure of their captain standing nearby. No one had heard him arrive.
“Well,” Mizal said, while everyone else got distracted checking the Chaos feed on their communicators. “You and I have been here before and we’re used to the ruins, but most of the others are quite young and this sort of primitive environment doesn’t suit them. Now that the battle’s over they’re eager to get back to--”
“Just the same, prepare to stay awhile. I know this place better than even you, and there’s more than just ruins here. Follow me.”
“Pew pew pew!” Corgi whispered fiercely to himself, making little guns with his fingers and giggling, seeming to have already forgotten he’d ever asked a question.
The others exchanged confused glances and then hastened after their robed and hooded captain, who flitted silently and without effort through the ruins like a ghost through a graveyard. Crumbling ruins overgrown with vegetation gave way to thick, untouched jungle. Strange birds called and a few times the group observed signs of the savage rites of the primitive savages that now called this place home. They weren’t related to the original population, and where they had come from, the galactic records didn’t say; but some of their customs turned the stomachs of even the battle-hardened Cystians.
The ground suddenly fell steeply away, and the group gave a collective gasp as they saw the valley and the extensive network of buildings and roads that spread across its floor. Furthermore, though the architecture appeared ancient, it was clearly not abandoned. A single light burned from the top of a ziggurat. Everyone knew without saying that this must be ISphor’um, Infinity’s city of legend. The darkness and depravities of the practices in this place, the sheer anarchy, had long ago sunk into whispered tales and legends. It had been scrubbed off the face of the world for good reason, or so the rumors said. But now, just like that, it had reappeared.
The hooded captain had already begun making his way down as though on a path only he could see. Mizal followed closely after, before a glance behind her showed the others were having difficulties. Some sort of strange force field had been activated, presumably by the city’s defenses, and they were trapped on the other side!
After some time spent helping and encouraging and definitely not mocking them, most were able to get through the barrier, while one or two returned angrily to the ships, blurting out garbled and barely coherent obscenities.
Making their way carefully down to the city, a hushed silence fell upon the group as they stared in awe at the glint of solid fucking gold on nearly every wall and surface. Much of the art here was...grotesque, even to the Cystians’ less than civilized way of thinking, but the value it would fetch back in the core worlds was without question.
In the largest ziggurat at the center of the city, they found their captain waiting for them, seated comfortably upon a towering throne of ebony and gold.
“So what’s the plan?” Mizal asked. “And where the hell did this all come from? There’s nothing in the records--well, there are legends, but, I mean...”
“Infinity holds many secrets, both great and terrible. The technology is less complicated, but more...pure. It was the original source of all my power.” The captain’s eyes, as he spoke, momentarily blazed with a eldritch light in a color never before seen. “We had wonders here three thousand years ago, that Cystia for all its might is only beginning to emulate. The others will awaken soon, now that I am returned, and then you’ll see for yourself. We didn't fight such a costly battle with the Cogites over a handful of mere baubles.”
“All right, so...we’re here to excavate the wonders of the past. And wake up some people from then too? Well...that’s close enough to the original plan, minus the undead fuckers. And I’m sure you have something twisted in mind that isn’t just making a quick buck back on Cystia, but for now I think I’ll just focus on securing the area for whatever the next phase of the operation is. There’s a lot of unsavory native types lurking about...hopefully they haven’t come across any of those powers you mentioned.
“They haven't. They’re fucking idiots, I mean have you seen them?"
"That's true. Now that you mention it, I did think it odd that one of them was just dancing naked through the wasteland with a bunch of severed penises glued to his torso, and another was too busy masturbating over a tiny bug to notice about twenty laser rifles were about to char him to ash." Thus reassured, Mizal returned to the team. “All right, plans have changed a bit, obviously. Whatever’s left of ISphor’um will be a site of study and excavation for awhile, but first, we need to make sure we’re not interrupted. You all saw what the natives were like; now it’s time to show them why Cystians are feared across the galaxy.”
“Hmm. They’re a degenerate offshoot of the original civilization, or perhaps they arrived later on their own. But some are docile enough they might make good slaves,” suggested IAP, who had been there in the group all along and wasn’t just appearing now.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” muttered Mizal. “But fine, you know how I can’t resist taking in retards only to be continually and unceasingly disappointed by them. So, case by case basis. But listen!” she said, brandishing her gun. “The vore and macro freaks, wherever we find them, we strike them down on the spot! No mercy for degenerates! Make an example of them to the others! BURN THEM ALIVE WITH LASER FIRE AND JUDGEMENT!”
With enthusiastic cheers, the others raced off into the jungle.
In moments, each had found a spot to hide from the others while checking the group Chaos feed and posting pictures of a small white dog.
In the distance, the Cystian flag still flew proudly.
(flag by ISentinelPenguinI)
Of course, one of those they overcame had been not quite...human, and the epic nature of that battle could certainly not be forgotten.
“Everyone stay sharp,” Mizal advised her companions, snapping a fresh energy cell into one of her (many) guns. “There could still be Cogites lurking about, to say nothing of the natives. Weapons loaded and eyes peeled. We’re not done here until we find the mines.”
“What mines? What’s going on?” asked Corgi.
“The mines full of gems the ancients left behind,” Cricket explained. “We load them into our hold, jump on out of here and back to the core worlds, and then we’re rich!”
There was a dark chuckle. “What’s the hurry?”
Everyone looked up to see the enigmatic figure of their captain standing nearby. No one had heard him arrive.
“Well,” Mizal said, while everyone else got distracted checking the Chaos feed on their communicators. “You and I have been here before and we’re used to the ruins, but most of the others are quite young and this sort of primitive environment doesn’t suit them. Now that the battle’s over they’re eager to get back to--”
“Just the same, prepare to stay awhile. I know this place better than even you, and there’s more than just ruins here. Follow me.”
“Pew pew pew!” Corgi whispered fiercely to himself, making little guns with his fingers and giggling, seeming to have already forgotten he’d ever asked a question.
The others exchanged confused glances and then hastened after their robed and hooded captain, who flitted silently and without effort through the ruins like a ghost through a graveyard. Crumbling ruins overgrown with vegetation gave way to thick, untouched jungle. Strange birds called and a few times the group observed signs of the savage rites of the primitive savages that now called this place home. They weren’t related to the original population, and where they had come from, the galactic records didn’t say; but some of their customs turned the stomachs of even the battle-hardened Cystians.
The ground suddenly fell steeply away, and the group gave a collective gasp as they saw the valley and the extensive network of buildings and roads that spread across its floor. Furthermore, though the architecture appeared ancient, it was clearly not abandoned. A single light burned from the top of a ziggurat. Everyone knew without saying that this must be ISphor’um, Infinity’s city of legend. The darkness and depravities of the practices in this place, the sheer anarchy, had long ago sunk into whispered tales and legends. It had been scrubbed off the face of the world for good reason, or so the rumors said. But now, just like that, it had reappeared.
The hooded captain had already begun making his way down as though on a path only he could see. Mizal followed closely after, before a glance behind her showed the others were having difficulties. Some sort of strange force field had been activated, presumably by the city’s defenses, and they were trapped on the other side!
After some time spent helping and encouraging and definitely not mocking them, most were able to get through the barrier, while one or two returned angrily to the ships, blurting out garbled and barely coherent obscenities.
Making their way carefully down to the city, a hushed silence fell upon the group as they stared in awe at the glint of solid fucking gold on nearly every wall and surface. Much of the art here was...grotesque, even to the Cystians’ less than civilized way of thinking, but the value it would fetch back in the core worlds was without question.
In the largest ziggurat at the center of the city, they found their captain waiting for them, seated comfortably upon a towering throne of ebony and gold.
“So what’s the plan?” Mizal asked. “And where the hell did this all come from? There’s nothing in the records--well, there are legends, but, I mean...”
“Infinity holds many secrets, both great and terrible. The technology is less complicated, but more...pure. It was the original source of all my power.” The captain’s eyes, as he spoke, momentarily blazed with a eldritch light in a color never before seen. “We had wonders here three thousand years ago, that Cystia for all its might is only beginning to emulate. The others will awaken soon, now that I am returned, and then you’ll see for yourself. We didn't fight such a costly battle with the Cogites over a handful of mere baubles.”
“All right, so...we’re here to excavate the wonders of the past. And wake up some people from then too? Well...that’s close enough to the original plan, minus the undead fuckers. And I’m sure you have something twisted in mind that isn’t just making a quick buck back on Cystia, but for now I think I’ll just focus on securing the area for whatever the next phase of the operation is. There’s a lot of unsavory native types lurking about...hopefully they haven’t come across any of those powers you mentioned.
“They haven't. They’re fucking idiots, I mean have you seen them?"
"That's true. Now that you mention it, I did think it odd that one of them was just dancing naked through the wasteland with a bunch of severed penises glued to his torso, and another was too busy masturbating over a tiny bug to notice about twenty laser rifles were about to char him to ash." Thus reassured, Mizal returned to the team. “All right, plans have changed a bit, obviously. Whatever’s left of ISphor’um will be a site of study and excavation for awhile, but first, we need to make sure we’re not interrupted. You all saw what the natives were like; now it’s time to show them why Cystians are feared across the galaxy.”
“Hmm. They’re a degenerate offshoot of the original civilization, or perhaps they arrived later on their own. But some are docile enough they might make good slaves,” suggested IAP, who had been there in the group all along and wasn’t just appearing now.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” muttered Mizal. “But fine, you know how I can’t resist taking in retards only to be continually and unceasingly disappointed by them. So, case by case basis. But listen!” she said, brandishing her gun. “The vore and macro freaks, wherever we find them, we strike them down on the spot! No mercy for degenerates! Make an example of them to the others! BURN THEM ALIVE WITH LASER FIRE AND JUDGEMENT!”
With enthusiastic cheers, the others raced off into the jungle.
In moments, each had found a spot to hide from the others while checking the group Chaos feed and posting pictures of a small white dog.
In the distance, the Cystian flag still flew proudly.
(flag by ISentinelPenguinI)
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