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08 - An Innovator's Scheming

08 - An Innovator's Scheming

Captain Gerald Mansa sat in the captain’s chair, something that admittedly brought him a lot more joy than he let on; however, today that familiar joy was nothing but a distant memory. The demon he had recently ‘questioned’ had revealed a veritable bombshell of information, and as his crew worked on verifying it, it seemed more and more likely the demon was telling the truth. This was undoubtedly good for the C.S.S, nevertheless it was horrible for his cortisol levels.

Either way, it didn’t matter. He was the captain of the Sultan, the first of the newly minted Templar class, and he always carried out his duty.

He approached his navigator, Second Officer Bollumo. She was a Yethrib, a once elusive member of the C.S.S; yet in recent years, they were becoming more prominent. Humans often compared them to ‘rabbit people’, and while it seemed to be endearing, it often left the average Yethrib stumped.

Nonetheless, their uniquely analytical mind, combined with their pattern recognition and relatively strange way of thinking, made them suitable for jobs that others would tend to struggle with. In Bollumo’s case, it made her an expert astral navigator, and the Captain only expected excellency from his crew. Even so, he found the expected formality stifling, so he made sure to put a moratorium on that. Why be formal with someone who’s going to be stuck with you for months at a time, when you could get to know them?

He approached her station, which she seemingly noticed even with her head turned. She turned towards him and grinned, which the Captain took to as good news. “Do you have a viable path to the specified coordinates?”

“Yes, I do, Captain. But…”

“But what”?

“It won’t be an easy path. There’s a Smaller Demonic Fleet stationed near the coordinates, along with a Supernatural Coalition Fleet. I am aware that this ship should theoretically be able to handle them, but it’s projected that sixty percent of the hull will be damaged; furthermore, there will be severe damage to the engines. What do you propose we do, captain”?

The Captain stood there for a moment, pondering what course of action he should take. Part of him thought that he should order an immediate attack, because what’s one ship compared to slaughtering multiple Higher Demons? Thankfully, this part of him was overshadowed by his rational part, and a clear course of action was formulated. He turned towards Gattika, his chief combat engineer, and proceeded to give out orders.

“Send multiple cloaked probes towards the anomaly, so that I have a constant feed of information. I want to know if one of them even farts, you understand”?

“I’m on it”, replied Gattika, instantly turning towards his control panel and getting to work. The captain then turned towards Syr, his chief communications officer.

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“Syr, I need to know how far away the Praetor and Nelson are. Along with that, let me know how many Scipio class ships are within a day’s travel of our current location. In the meanwhile, order our fabricator teams to spin them up to full power and production. We have a day to prepare, so we’re gonna use it.”

“There are ten Scipio class ships within a day’s travel, including the Zulu and Poseidon, Sir.”

“That’s good news. Very good news, in fact. Undergo the necessary preparations, and activate combat mode. We don’t want anything to go wrong.”

“I’m on it.”

The Captain took this as an opportunity to update HQ, since there was a major undertaking ahead, and he needed their opinions and advice. Either way, he had a day to prepare, and he would use it well.

Zigzigon was, until recently, a minor demon. A demon not even worth looking at twice; however, due to an astronomical stroke of luck, he had become Beelzebub’s personal aid. This was an opportunity that many, including himself, would doubtlessly murder for. In fact, it was a major shock to the demon community. Why would Beelzebub choose a nobody like him? Zigzigon suspected that it was precisely because he was a nobody, he got the position.

After all, a weak demon couldn’t even dream of harming Beelzebub, plus due to recent events he needed a personal aid he could trust. Or at the very least, keep in check. That was of no consequence to Zigzigon however, as he had his own plan. It would take a while, but it was a plan.

His thought process shifted to his brother, Beelzebub’s former aide, who had recently gone to mortal space but failed to return. Although he was slightly worried, he quickly dismissed his concerns. It wasn’t like mortals could do anything to his brother. His mind returned to his current duties, which was serving drinks to Beelzebub and his cohorts. These drinks were quality soul wine, aged for a hundred years in a soul vault. he would have loved to steal a sip, yet he knew that if he dared to, he would suffer a gruesome death.

It was the first time he was attending such a meeting, even as an aide, so he consequently got to hear some juicy morsels of information. It turned out that some higher demons were worried about the mortals advances against the angels, but most weren’t concerned. Angels weren’t as strong as demons, which was something every demon supposedly ‘knew’. Before he came here, he wasn’t even aware of such a location. This meeting was being held in a plane between the mortal and demon realms, a consequence of that being that only demons who were invited could even perceive it. He smiled to himself, proud of his moving up the ladder.

He was content with continuing with his duties, until he started to feel the ground rumbling beneath him.

That was when the crimson sky itself was rent asunder, revealing the black, star studded sky of the mortal realm. That wasn’t the worst thing currently happening, though.

The worst thing was thirteen mortal ships entering the breach, each one of them brimming with energy.

Three of them projected some sort of light, which seemed to stabilise the realm. Unfortunately, some demons also found that it prevented them from leaving. At that moment, a booming voice erupted from the ship at the head of the formation.

“Attention, demonic scum. My name is Captain Gerald Mansa, captain of the Sultan. We are aware that there are many higher demons here, including Beelzebub himself.”

Many demons proceeded to attack the ships, yet they were repelled by some sort of energy field. Most opted to stay put and hear what the mortals had to say, which they would come to regret very soon.

“You creatures are responsible for consuming the souls of billions of mortals. For your crimes, we have one request, and one request only.”

“Surrender and die”.