Chapter 1: Murican’ adventuring party

Bick was in rather mixed spirits when he pulled up at the parking lot of the otherwise nondescript office complex. There wasn’t even a physical guard at the gatehouse, the whole thing was automated. Badly automated, shit didn’t even work half the time, which then forced him to get out of the car and open the damn door manually. Luckily today was not one such day, and he managed to make it through with minimum problems.

Really sums up the whole place: cheap ass shit that’s always on the edge of falling apart. While he was no stranger to ‘government’, even ‘military’ grade equipment, it’s still annoying all the same.

However, none of that has anything to do with his mood today. Rather, it was being summoned to this location in the first place. If all goes as expected, it would be the end of this particular assignment. On the one hand, he was looking forward to that since the beginning when he was handed this joke of an assignment, of which he felt it being more fitting for a prank show than something real, an insult to his dignity and professionalism as an employee in the CIA. Or even just a government employee in general for that matter.

Yet on the other hand he was getting rather used to the assignment, it was skate as hell, and oversight was pretty much nonexistent. Even the per diem was awesome, heck, he was basically making bank off of that at times.

Of course there’s the whole helping those who have suffered a world of pain and suffering, yet all that felt petty and meaningless even in comparison to his mere personal issues. Perhaps it was the voice in the back of his mind telling him of the futility of it all. After all, in a way, all this has happened before, and all this will happen again.

He walked in the front entrance, swiped his CAC at the relevant terminal, and continued forth his meandering through the labyrinth of hallways to a certain conference room. His internal dialogue had not yet reached its conclusion when he walked in the last set of doors.

As far as conference rooms go, it was pretty mid, nothing really noticeable so far as the furnishings and décor are concerned. Most of the faces were also expected: the other agents assigned to the current assignment, his supervisor, some other randos who handle a lot of the behind the scenes stuff, and…

… and a marine corps major. The weird part isn’t that there’s an officer from one of the branches of the armed forces. Military liaison for operations such as these is par the course even if most of the time nothing further comes of those. However, usually it’s from one of the branches who aren’t broke as shit on the regular, like the army, airforce, navy, coast guard, whatever.

There’s always a first time for everything though. Especially stupid shit.

“Good to see everyone again,” Director Locke began the meeting as everyone settled into their seats, “Without further ado…”

The first part of the meeting went about as expected: a series of death by powerpoint as the analysts showed off all the compiled and aggregated data from his and other field agents’ hard work, and completely misinteripting and twisted them. Sweet comforting lies to the relevant higher ups who have already made up their minds.

After what felt like an eternity the senseless droning finally came to an end, and Locke dismissed them for the day… all but the major, him, and another agent, some scrawny looking asian. As the last of the others exited the conference room and the door locked behind them the director got up from his chair and began speaking.

“All of you take me for a fool- no, not necessarily a fool. Just another out of touch fossil incapable of believing the impossible.” He nodded, more to himself, or perhaps mere theatrics. “Give the old man here some credit. I was around when men stared at goats and LSD was the way to unlock superpowers.” He shrugged. “And over the decades, well, we have found a few… unusual things. Come.” He gestured to the others as he shuffled towards the doors.

The rest of them looked at each other, shrugged, and got up to follow the seemingly senile director. Theatrics or no, all of them are keenly aware of the sheer amount of outright fantastical shit that the government kept under wraps, if for nothing else because the lie is more believable than the truth. All of them have taken part in some of those lies.

Meandering through yet another series of seemingly aimless hallways and staircases the little mismatched group gradually made their way deep underground. If anything, Bick was pretty sure that they’re not even in the building proper, as the impression he got from the parking lot was that while large, the building complex wasn’t that large.

At length, they finally reach a large set of shutters. Locke punched a series of numbers in a nearby pad, and the shutters slowly began to creak up, sounding as if remaining anyone around that somebody had been skipping maintenance.

“You know the drill, top secret and all that.” Locke said, almost as an afterthought. Everyone present has already been checked time and time again, a few endlessly repeated words weren’t going to change things one way or the other.

The sight revealed was… rather mid. It’s obvious that it’s a massive experimental something or another being conducted, but since it’s being done on a government budget rather than a Hollywood one, it shows: the computers strewn about being cheap HP or Dell from at least a decade ago, with the software to match, the bored agents who looked like 10lb bags of shit stuffed in 5lb bags, random power cables snaking all over the place haphazardly, the vending machine with its selection of energy drinks and sodas, probably out since he couldn’t possibly imagine any random civilian to be allowed in.

Then they saw it: The massive outworldly ring-like structure so different from everything around, its surfaces faintly glowing in the rather underlit lighting, a shimmering water like surface suspended within, faintly moving as if running on its own rules of physics.

“What the f- You telling me that Stargate is real?” Muller blurted out. Locke merely tilted his head slightly.

“No, the TV show is still fiction, and please don’t mention that again as we don’t have the copyright to that.” Locke replied with good humor. “Think more ancient aliens.”

“That’s basically the same thing.” Bick noted sardonically. Locke shrugged.

“Details, details.” He brushed off the quip. “You know, this used to be under the possession of Saddam Hussein, or rather, son of Nebuchadnezzar.”

“Wait, we seriously went to war for that?” Bick asked in disbelief, putting two and two together… and not getting four. Things are only making less sense as more is revealed.

“Yes, and it was worth the effort.” Locke said, with a simplicity that dissuaded further discussion on that front. “Certainly came in handy, given the recent turn of events.”

“How-” Muller began to ask, but then thought better of it as he caught himself. There’s no point in asking for the nitty gritty details. It’s not really important or relevant. If necessary the relevant files will be accessible in due time, only limited by the byzantine snail’s pace of the S-shops.

“So that means…” The Asian spoke up for the first time. Locke nodded, a rather unsettling sight.

“Yes Koi, it’s time to return the favor.” the director replied with a determined and sinister grin. “That’s what-” He pointed at the two agents, “-you two are for.”

It finally dawned on Bick that, far from being over, the assignment has just entered a new phase. “Why us?” He asked. Another shrug from Locke.

“Because someone at least took their job seriously, even in the face of nonsense and absurdity.” He simply said, weariness seeping into his voice for the first time. “Maybe this is all nonsense, and that we’re all fools.” He paused, more to catch his breath than for any dramatic effect. “If so, then might as well embrace that.”

Those words unsettled everyone else, even Muller. Locke might have gone senile, but that’s precisely the problem: someone in power going senile, whose decisions will affect everyone else but himself.

------

As it turns out, embracing that meant that the two hapless agents gearing up and going to the other side of the portal themselves, although gearing up was overstating it a bit. For something as monumental as literally crossing into another world, the gear provided was… rather mid: A small mountain of military surplus equipment and weapons sat in the back of a large pickup truck. The gear smell faintly of warehouses and bad maintenance, and the still remaining stickers on the truck a testimony of the amount of times the bank has repossessed it from its previous, presumably financially illiterate and overall not all that there, owners. The damn license plates are still from North Carolina.

“Well fuck me, I thought I would never have to wear this shit again.” Bick muttered as he strapped on the coyote brown body armor vest to get the fit. Koi merely nodded in acknowledgement as he did a functions check on a M4A1 rifle. It has been a week since the revelation of Saddam's alien portal and during much of that time they had been prepping for the upcoming mission.

The guy barely uttered a handful of words the entire time. Not that weird though, he met plenty of Asians before, and they tend to be the quiet ones, at least initially. It takes some time for them to open up, and after that it’s uncharted territory like any other people.

"Hmm… there isn't much in the way of clothing to fit in with the natives." Bick idleily remarked as he took off the body armor and checked out some of the rest of the gear.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"They saw people like us already." Koi finally spoke, in a flat tone of stating the obvious. Bick let out a snort in acknowledgment. Guy's right. It's so easy to forget the original purpose for the entire operation, despite them cleaning up a lot of the consequences that managed to seep back here to earth. So compartmentalized are their jobs that it's easy to lose sight of the bigger picture.

The silence soon reasserted itself as the two agents continued their PMCS, and after a long ass enough time, they finally got it done, and the two crawled into the truck.

“Here goes nothing.” Bick muttered as he started the vehicle, and slowly drove forward, into the shimmering moving surface. Despite plenty of reassurances from the scientists that there’s nothing to be worried about, that there were already a number of probes and drones that made the journey, he still closed his eyes as the vehicle met the surface.

And suddenly, then they’re there. In another world. The dimly lit cavern was replaced in an instant with the bright sunlight of the outside, the humdrum of machinery and computers replaced with the chirping and buzzing of birds and insects… and the smells of industrial civilization replaced with the stench of unfiltered nature.

“Cheerful looking place.” Bick observed after opening his eyes and looked around. Koi merely shrugged.

“More like post-apocalyptic.” He stated, seemingly out of the blue. Bick looked at him in confusion.

“Excuse me but what the fuck?” He asked. Koi simply shrugged again.

“North America, post Columbian exchange, spread of smallpox amongst native civilizations. End of the Mississippi mound builders. Nature retaking previously cultivated land giving illusion to always untamed wilderness.” He stated. The words and sentences coming out rather disjointed, even before his heavy accent making things even less comprehensible.

“And you see evidence of that here?” Bick continued the train of conversation. Feeling weirded out, not just that apparently Koi could tell such subtle signs, but also that something of this magnitude wasn’t even brought up in the previous discussions.

“No.” Koi admitted in a flat voice without a sign of defense. “But how else? Native civilization here has been around for long time, therefore vast tracts of untamed wilderness is out of place.”

‘Whoa whoa, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Bick countered, finally seeing some major flaw in Koi’s train of logic. “It’s a whole new world out here, and we haven’t gone anywhere yet.” With that he gunned the engine, and the truck rumbled forward, its lifted and reinforced suspension and excessively large wheels easily crushing the seemingly endless underbrush, finally doing what the original owner who shelled out the tens of thousands of bucks on it intended but probably never did.

Of course, neither of them were particularly vindicated, for although they traveled for hours through seemingly untouched forests, the same lack of infrastructure of any kind also meant that their progress was rather less than anticipated.

Eventually, after finally realizing that they weren’t getting anywhere, a drone was sent up, and a footpath of sorts was quickly found. Somehow, it didn’t occur to either of them to use that first. By the time they actually got to the trail it was nearing sundown, and the two agents quickly made camp.

The night went by without incident, although the sounds of nature, of a world of a thousand slight differences meant both men slept fitfully.

……

A gorgeous dawn upon a cloudless sky greeted the CIA adventuring party, and the two men dragged themselves out of their sleeping systems. As they chased the cobwebs of weariness away with instant coffee and energy drinks they packed up their little camp, leaving little trace behind only due to their prior training. After tha, it was back to the truck and hit the road.

Progress on the trail, and that’s stretching the definition of a trail, was not that much better. The little ribbon of mud, who had only felt the weight of feet of men and draft beasts, simply disintegrated under the weight of the truck, and for most of it the rubber wheels were biting deeply into the grass and underbrush.

But as all good things came to an end, the forests weren’t endless, and after a number of hours they broke out from the trees, to seemingly endless meadows. A drone was sent up again, and a village was rapidly found. Not that far either, as befitting a land without much in the way of advanced infrastructure.

“A good place as any.” Bick remarked as drove the truck while skimming the videofeed, meanwhile Koi stared at the images with furrowed eyebrows, as if in deep analysis.

“It doesn’t look all that safe.” He finally said after a while.

“Why?” Bick asked. Not that he had any intentions to change their course, it wasn’t as if they’re flushed with options. “It’s probably a dirt poor farming community without modern conveniences such as wifi and McDonalds.”

“Not that.” Koi replied evenly, the humor seemingly flew right over his head. “Place’s a death trap. One fire and the whole place will be lit ablaze, and the building layout will funnel its inhabitants straight to their death in a concentrated format.”

“Um, thank you for that shockingly dark update.” Bick said, not really sure how to process that analysis. “Well, we don’t really have a choice in the matter.” He reiterated the finality of the decision.

“Acknowledged.” Koi nodded, seemingly at peace with the decision, dangers be damned. Then again, so far the supposed chances of danger and death were mostly in the abstract… but that’s every mission before things start to go wrong.

As the saying goes, all young men are immortal, until they aren’t.

……

If anything, the drone footage vastly understated just how terrible the conditions are in the village, for while the fields and forests all around were filled with the bounties of life and prosperity, only poverty and suffering was to be found as they near the settlement itself. Everywhere they looked they saw sunken eyes and listless bodies. The air filled with the stench of despair along with regular filth. Bick swore that even the skies themselves darkened, though when he looked up there was nary a cloud to be seen.

There were only two spots that were the exception: the large and ostentatious manor house, of presumably the local lord, and a large platform in the middle of the town square. As they dismounted their vehicle and walked towards it, the purpose of the structure became abundantly clear, with the numerous collared humans in chains.

“Slave market.” Koi remarked, as he racked back his M4. Bick shrugged.

“Figures.” He muttered, not terribly surprised. His weeb friends had long complained about the overused cliché of slavery in isekai fics, and his studies of undeveloped countries often tells of similar undesirable aspects of human nature. However, the difference is that the latter makes some sort of twisted sense, at least according to the economists. The sight in front of them, does not. If anything, it makes the opposite of sense.

Who even have money to buy slaves around these parts? Certainly not the sea of poverty they have so far witnessed.

As the two walked up to the slave market, a richly dressed fat bastard waddled up towards them, a couple of presumably his personal slaves in tow. He was the first person to do that, for everyone else up to that point had done their best to avoid any and all aspects of them, from their gaze to the ground in front of their path. That they don’t recognize the details was irrelevant: heavily armed and dressed strangers are never good news, be they friend or foe. Especially the supposed friends.

Not this slaver, no, not him.

“Greetings strange travelers.” He greeted the two with a smug grin. “Can I entice you adventurers to sample some of the wares?” the aura of smugness increased, if that was even possible.

Out of the corner of his eye Bick saw Koi was about to lift up his rifle, and he quickly gestured to his colleague to stand down. As satisfying as it would be to dispense American justice right then and there, it’s not their job to do so. The mission comes first, and if they succeed, then plenty of others will do that.

But they have to succeed first, and that means not going on murder hobo rampages.

“Of course.” Bick replied through gritted teeth, forcing even a strained smile on his face.

“In fact, we’re interested in making some purchases.” Koi spoke up, the words leaving his mouth as strained as those of Bick’s. He might have gotten the memo, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“Oh, is that so?” The slaver chuckled. “Well, you’re in luck, for the wares are bountiful this time of the year. You know how things are, these shiftless bums-” he waved a hand at the village around them, “-they’ll do anything to pay or avoid their taxes. Selling their firstborns even.”

“I see.” Bick said, really resisting the urge to also make a condition 1 with his rifle like Koi did earlier. It’s almost as if the slaver’s intentionally trying to rile them up, even though he knew that on an intellectual level that it’s probably just how they talk.

“How much?” Koi asked, getting down to business, trying to quicken the ordeal as quickly as possible.

“Oh, not even a sampling first?” the slaver asked. Both agents shook their heads.

“We’re kinda in a hurry.” Bick said smoothly. It’s not even necessarily a lie either.

“In that case it’s going to be, shall I say, a bit pricey.” The grin on the slaver widened.

“Fine.” Koi said as he took out a heavily laden bag, before throwing it towards the slaver, who promptly caught it in midair. As he opened it his eyes widened, matching his disgusting grin.

“Ah, just the right amount.” He said as he threw a ring of keys, which Koi caught in midair as well. As he looked at Bick the latter nodded, and he began making his way towards the slave cages.

……

“May I have your attention please.” Bick said to the crowd of emasculated individuals before him, they all immediately dropped the MREs they were gorging on and focused on him. A most unnerving sight, even more unnerving than the sight of them tearing into the spinach fettuccine MRE.

It was late in the afternoon, and the two agents as well as their latest acquisitions were in a clearing in the forest a few clicks away from the village, just far enough to be away from any potential prying eyes and ears.

“Now I tell you this, you are free, as our laws and morals forbid slavery. However, we would really appreciate it if any of you could assist us with the lay of the land.” Bick continued. It wasn’t his greatest speech by any means, but that’s not important. The important part has already been accomplished.

“For what reason?” A thin woman asked, who normally looked as if she was on the verge of death at any moment. However there was a fire in her eyes, and neither Bick nor Koi has any idea as to the source of those metaphorical flames.

“I see that you have some deep emotions residing within you, if you wouldn’t mind, could you tell us?” Bick asked, fishing for more information before revealing his hand, or if necessary, make some lie on the spot.

“My husband fought and died in a meaningless war, for a cause he did not understand, loyal to those who betrayed him, and my in-laws sold me to pay for their debts.” She said in a monotone voice, of a rage that burned for so long that it seared into her very essences.

Bick nodded, the little spiel from her just made the mission that much easier.

“Then you are in good luck, and in good company.” He replied, before turning to the rest of the crowd. “For we are the agents of justice, and the vanguard of a great force of liberation. I promise on my very life that none of you shall ever be enslaved again.” Out of his peripheral vision he saw Koi roll his eyes, and privately he agreed. It’s the most cringey thing he said outside of discord. It just felt appropriate though.

To the surprise of both of them the crowd of freed slaves gave a cheer. A really ragged one, but sincere nevertheless.

He looked at the time on his phone, they were really ahead of schedule, and if what they saw so far was any indication, so will the actual operation to follow…