“They’re done, Admiral.” Chief Scientist Tungul pridefully beckoned, “please step forth and taste the fruits of our labor.”
A team of scientists saluted the galaxy’s second most powerful man as he approached the three metallic cylinders that housed their ultimate creation. They had spent the better part of their lives working on this innovation, pouring their very hearts and souls into every step of its creation process. Now they awaited one man's verdict, a verdict that would ultimately decide the worth of all their cycles of effort.
The Admiral’s heavy metal boots clanked forward across the hall’s grated surface; their patter echoed an authoritative tune that matched the mighty military man’s stature. He stopped before the assemblage, and turned, his medals and awards glistening brightly in the artificial light.
Then, with a wide grin and a deep bellow, he delivered his judgment. “Well comrades, they said it couldn’t be done, but here you’ve gone and done it. You’ve manifested my vision into reality.”
The scientists breathed a collective sigh of relief. Roman Ceres himself had approved their work.
The admiral circled the cylinders a few times and then stared up at the rafters. “S.T.O.R.K,” he said, “which of my scientists did the most work?”
That would be 2nd Lieutenant Cyrene.
A robotic voice echoed through the hall.
“I see,” the admiral said, “and which scientist did the least?”
Chief Scientist Tungul.
“Interesting,” the Admiral scratched at his stubbled chin. “S.T.O.R.K, send for my personal guard.”
Understood, Admiral.
“Your grace,” Chief Scientist Tungul tossed himself before his superior. “S.T.O.R.K cannot be trusted. I worked diligently for your lordship; I swear it on the gods of our ancestors.“
The admiral let out a hearty laugh and knelt down to his subordinate’s level. “My dear Chief Scientist, I put you in charge of this project, and this is how you repay me? With lies and deceit?”
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“I’m not lying.” He groveled, “Please your lordship, try to understand. I worked on administrative tasks, things that a stupid overseer system like S.T.O.R.K could never begin to comprehend.”
“Pick yourself up,” Admiral Ceres beckoned the man to his feet as an entourage of the galaxy’s finest troops marched down the corridor, guns drawn and ready for action.
“Your lordship, please! Please don’t kill me.” Tungul continued to grovel.
“I told you to STAND UP.”
“Yes, yes my lord, anything you say.” The galaxy’s most famous civilian scientist stood erect in front of his employer, tears and snot erupted from all his visible orifices in a shameful display of his own impotence.
“You truly are a pathetic man.” Admiral Ceres smacked him hard across the face, sending him crashing back to the floor.
“Your lordship, please. No. NO!”
“Yes,” Admiral Ceres motioned for his guards to pick the disgraced scientist up off the floor. “Lucky for you, the IGC has a need for a deceitful and wicked human being like yourself. Human greed and avarice are some of the defining attributes of our culture.”
“I don’t understand,” the scientist cried.
“You would understand exactly where I was going with this if you had actually helped on this project.” The admiral punched him hard in the gut.
Cracking his knuckles as if nothing had happened, he turned back towards the gathered crowd. “2nd Lieutenant Cyrene, step forward.” The admiral demanded.
“My lord,” a slender female officer stepped out from the assemblage of onlookers. She rendered a vigorous salute and then bowed at his feet.
“Stand.”
“Yes, my lord,” she stood without hesitation.
“Can you please tell our ‘Chief Scientist’ all about what is housed inside these three cylinders?”
“Chief Scientist Tungal,” she saluted him, “inside of these cylinders are the first true hybrids between man and machine. We call them P.A.L, B.U.D and F.R.N.”
“I knew that,” Tungal said.
“Did you know that these amazing creations currently lack the human personalities that they need to be fully effective?”
“What do you mean?” Tungal looked up at the Admiral, blood dribbling out of his mouth, “aren’t they done?”
“I’ll take that as an admission of your guilt.” The admiral laughed. “2nd Lieutenant Cyrene, are you prepared to accept a promotion.”
“If you will it, my lord.” She bowed her head at him.
“You know what you must do.”
“Yes, my lord.” The middle-aged second lieutenant approached one of the cylinders that she had helped design and typed in her access code on the keypad. The cylinder opened laterally, revealing a swirling cloud of bright blue glyphs and sharp metal splinters.
The scientists and soldiers alike, stared in abject shock as the military operative sacrificed herself to the vortex in a bloody splatter. It shredded her from the feet up, yet she never so much as screamed a single syllable, even as the vortex ate her whole.
“Now that’s a loyal soldier,” Admiral Ceres removed his three-star beret and saluted the bloody vortex. “Loyalty, sacrifice and a love of one’s country – that is what she has that you lack, my dear Chief Scientist.”
“Ancestor’s mercy… What is that thing?” Tungal vomited up blood onto his shoe. “What have we created?”
“That’s your new reality,” Admiral Ceres grabbed him by the collar and dragged him kicking and screaming towards the central cylinder.
Two scientists ran up to the unit and inserted their access codes, revealing a second equally strong vortex.
“Today’s your lucky day,” Admiral Ceres pressed him up to the edge of the vortex, “now you finally get to be as greedy and deceitful as you want. Perhaps one day you will even rule the Universe, thanks to me, but that day will be many eons off.”
“Please, no!” Tungal begged.
“Enjoy yourself.” Ceres kicked him into the vortex. His grotesque screams reverberated through the cavernous hall, causing many of the onlookers to fall violently ill.
“Go get my son,” Admiral Ceres removed his blood-drenched gloves and passed them to one of his attendants, “it is time to make my bloodline an immortal part of history.”
“Sir,” the attendant, a woman named Anatolia, stepped forward and bowed at his feet. “What happens if we win against our enemies, won’t you have sacrificed our, I mean your only child for nothing?”
“Foolish girl,” he cackled, “the IGC may win this battle, but it will never win the war. This society will be destroyed, and when that day comes, my three-headed hydra will awaken and consume the Universe in fire and death.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I am the enemy.” A serpent’s tongue slithered out of his mouth, “and this is all part of a game that I started playing many eons ago.”