The Open Door (megacrossover)

[Xon]

How would Chaos think of the Time Lord's non-intervention policy compared to the Federation's Prime Directive? Given it is more to protect everyone else from the mistakes of the Time Lords (and given how fucking huge thier mistakes can be, that is probably a good thing)

[Darth Yoshi]

*snip pic*

Indeed.

[Academia Nut]

Well, I sadly don't know too much about the DW series, but generally I can see the new Chaos guys as not being all that pleased with the Time Lords non-intervention policies, but probably more lenient than with the Federation considering that a past history of monumental screw ups have a way of convincing people that you might not be fully competent enough to actually lend a helping hand. Plus there is the fact that Chaos can't really make guys as powerful as the Time Lords do anything.

Basically, not only has the majority of the surviving population of Chaos Earth gone through at least one major disaster, but the gods were all pretty screwed up by one form of neglect or another, so they look down on that sort of thing. They believe that if you have the power to do something then you should do it. They're smart enough to recognize that you can't do everything at once, and you should keep out of matters where you might not have any clue as to what you're going, but the Federation has clearly failed to live up to their potential.

[LadyTevar]

I think the Chaos Gods would like the Doctor, since he at least -tries-.

[Xon]

Well, I sadly don't know too much about the DW series, but generally I can see the new Chaos guys as not being all that pleased with the Time Lords non-intervention policies, but probably more lenient than with the Federation considering that a past history of monumental screw ups have a way of convincing people that you might not be fully competent enough to actually lend a helping hand. Plus there is the fact that Chaos can't really make guys as powerful as the Time Lords do anything.

The Time Lord's non-intervention policies are the result of them clamping down on abuse of thier absolute mastory of time travel. For example; ripping victims from thier native timezone and forcing them to fight to the death. There was also the "minor" incident of unleashing planet side space vampires into the universe which became the a rather messy war (evidence was mosty retroactively removed) which caused the Time Lords to swear off violence.

The Time Lords appear to treat themselves as Sealed Evil In A Can, and given the Master caused a 3rd of the universe to suffer from total existance failure due to messing with some people the Time Lords subcontracted reality maintaince to, I dont freaking blame them.

They're smart enough to recognize that you can't do everything at once, and you should keep out of matters where you might not have any clue as to what you're going, but the Federation has clearly failed to live up to their potential.

Many times the TNG Federation comes across as a bad parody of the TOS Federation. Are you going to touch on that one?

I think the Chaos Gods would like the Doctor, since he at least -tries-.

You get once chance with the Doctor, fail that and the universe appears to conspires to shaft you so hard you feel it before it happens (in some cases literially!).

[Academia Nut]

As far as the Doctor goes... well... let's put it this way. You remember that whole British Invasion game they were planning on? Well, each god is going to take a universe and insert an agent into the British Isles there to prey upon the foibles of the locals. A certain group of magicians will be getting a visit from Tzintchi, while Mislaato will put an agent on the ground around a group that continues to amaze in that it has yet to fuck itself and the rest of the planet into oblivion.

And yeah, once Rong-Arya get ahold of a Federation data base they will probably begin ruthlessly mocking the Feddies over who far they have strayed from what once was and how someone like Kirk could have turned them into allies.

[von Neufeld]

As far as the Doctor goes... well... let's put it this way. You remember that whole British Invasion game they were planning on? Well, each god is going to take a universe and insert an agent into the British Isles there to prey upon the foibles of the locals. A certain group of magicians will be getting a visit from Tzintchi, while Mislaato will put an agent on the ground around a group that continues to amaze in that it has yet to fuck itself and the rest of the planet into oblivion.

Excellent. Good federation mind-games, and nice hints about future screw arounds with people's heads. What about Asukhon and Reigle? Hellsing? Blackadder?

[Crayz9000]

As long as we're throwing universes out there, how about the Hellboy universe? Or other comic book universes?

[Robo Jesus]

As long as we're throwing universes out there, how about the Hellboy universe? Or other comic book universes?

Opening up the Marvel and DC universes is a bad move, as those places are literally Dues Ex Machina given form. Some comic series might be cool to use (I.E. Top Cow comics and some of the more obscure universes and concepts (maybe even the Endless)), but for the most part, Marvel and DC universes are not. =/

[Satori]

As long as we're throwing universes out there, how about the Hellboy universe? Or other comic book universes?

Opening up the Marvel and DC universes is a bad move, as those places are literally Dues Ex Machina given form. Some comic series might be cool to use (I.E. Top Cow comics and some of the more obscure universes and concepts (maybe even the Endless)), but for the most part, Marvel and DC universes are not. =/

True dat.

Reigle/Asukhon/Mislaato/Tzinchi are powerful, but some universes have powers that would slap even them down.

[Crayz9000]

Well, Hellboy is a Dark Horse series, so the Marvel/DC powers don't apply. Then again, the Hellboy mythos is very Lovecraftian, so there...

[Singular Quartet]

Well, Hellboy is a Dark Horse series, so the Marvel/DC powers don't apply. Then again, the Hellboy mythos is very Lovecraftian, so there...

An intresting question, then, would be what they would do with Hellboy, and the Ordu-Jahad itself. I imagine Baba-Yaga would not be very happy with crazed maniacs in power armor beating her to death. Granted, she wasn't very happy with being shot in the eye, either...

[Academia Nut]

Chapter Eight: Turnabout

The first ever lasgun to roll off the Area-51 production lines sat on the conference table at the SGC like the proverbial forbidden fruit after a bite had been taken, the lump of metal and plastic all but staring at them accusingly over what they had done. The construction had been frighteningly fast, much of the tooling required already being in existence in one form or another somewhere else.

As far as SG-1 was concerned, it was too perfect. Daniel in particular was displeased with what sat before them.

“I’m not saying it’s not useful, it’s just that I do not trust the source. Oh, I’m sure that the first couple of trades and gifts will be in our favour, but as time goes on the price will get steeper and steeper. They’ve pretty much admitted to being untrustworthy,” Daniel argued.

“I know what you mean, but I think that they’re trying to intentionally put us between the proverbial rock and a hard place. On the one hand, they appear to be violent, scheming psychopaths who we would want to think twice about jumping into bed with… while on the other hand they appear to be violent, scheming psychopaths who we would want to think twice about making enemies with, especially with the Ori and guys like Baal running about,” Mitchell pointed out.

“It is indeed a conundrum. There have been other rumours stirring amongst the Free Jaffa of late, of strangers offering incredible things and promises of aid against the Ori. There is even talk that there is a woman offering freedom from reliance upon symbiotes and tretonin,” Teal’c reported.

Scowling somewhat, General Landry said, “As much as I agree with your judgements, I’m afraid that the congressional oversight committee has decided that trade with Prometheus is too good to pass up, and they request that you go meet with him.”

Daniel’s frown deepened and he said, “I was afraid that you would say that. I would also like to point out that I think our new ‘friend’ Prometheus knew that you would say that too.”

“Now I know that he sent us a message two days ago saying that he wanted to meet us elsewhere because his friend Lady Justice was attracting too much Prior heat to make meetings safe, but will we just be meeting him off world, or are we to escort him somewhere else for negotiations?” Mitchell asked.

One corner of his face twitching upward, Landry said, “You can at least be relieved that the oversight committee did take to heart the fact that you did not fully trust him and thus any meeting would take place at the Beta Site.”

“Where he will be polite and shower us in gifts of technology, slowly gaining our trust until such point as he gets an invite to Earth. I can feel it, he wants to get here and take something from us, I just don’t know what,” Daniel muttered darkly.

“As much as I appreciate your insights Dr. Jackson, I’m afraid that my hands are tied on this one, and unless you want to start an interplanetary incident with some very powerful people by taking drastic measures of your own, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Landry replied equally darkly.

“I doubt simply shooting him would actually do anything,” Daniel noted before he tilted his head towards the lasgun and asked, “So are we going to be bringing that off world with us?”

Shaking his head, Landry replied, “No, we are still doing full field testing, but there is currently a great deal of pressure to start moving the weapon into service by the end of the year for our special forces teams the advantages it offers over conventional weapons are so great.”

“How exactly are we going to spin this one by the way?” Daniel asked.

“We’ve already been introducing some of the new derivative power technologies to the public at large, not naquadah generators of course but some better batteries and the like from the technologies we have already. With the theory we have for the new laser technology we can select one of our front companies to announce the discovery and then within a year we should be able to have the public convinced that this sort of weapon is feasible,” Carter explained.

Sighing and shaking his head sadly, Daniel said, “It’s all so reasonable, isn’t it?”


“Please! Be reasonable!” Netan cried out in horror and anguish, all of his pride and arrogance gone, reduced as he was to this pitiful, begging state. It had been a long hard fall from where he had once been, and far, far too quick for his liking, as there had not even been the fun of years of decadent living to make him soft to blame for this situation.

No, in less than a month this damnable woman had swept to power in the Lucian Alliance and now here she was sitting upon his throne, leering down at him.

Lady Compassion, as she called herself, wore clothing more suited to some slave dancer girl than a mercenary warlord, her entire attire consisting of little more than a strip of black leather that barely contained her ample breasts and a long, dark purple loincloth coloured similarly to her hair that had a tendency to fall in such a way as to just barely remain decent. It had the effect of distracting others from what she was truly doing as the men were too busy drooling and the women too busy trying to cause her to spontaneously combust.

Holding a delicate, wide brimmed glass in her hand by the stem and swirling about the amber liquid within, Lady Compassion smiled and said, “Netan, I hold in my hands and entire plant’s worth of the active psychoactive chemicals in kassa dissolved in pure grain alcohol. This is enough to kill a three hundred pound Jaffa warrior in his prime a dozen times over. Including the glass, this drink is probably worth enough to put a down payment on a Death Glider if you found the right market.”

She then downed the entire drink in a single gulp and crushed the delicate glass in her hand, causing shards to lacerate her long, delicate fingers and palms. Alcohol and kassa extract mingled with her unnaturally dark red blood and pattered against the floor. The smell was rich and metallic and heady and all in attendance found saliva rushing to their mouths as the little drops hit the floor.

Grinning too broadly, Lady Compassion said, “Netan, I am not a reasonable woman, so why do you throw your pleas upon something that does not exist?”

Rising so smoothly and seductively from the throne that it was almost obscene, Lady Compassion picked up a long, thin, slightly curved sword from where it lay and sashayed down to him, licking her lips in anticipation, her eyes going wide like a drug addicts after just getting a fix.

“Netan, I am Lady Compassion, it is who I am to feel the pain of others and attempt to help them. Your kassa idea was wonderful, but you had so little insight as to how to use it. It is not to be given to the highest bidder when so many crave it; it is to be given to all so as to make their lives better. Not so much that it destroys them, but just enough that they will follow whoever controls the kassa. Netan, you caused much suffering and planned to cause much more. Netan, I have caused you much suffering, and plan to cause much more,” Lady Compassion said as she slowly circled him, drawing the tip of the razor sharp blade across his flesh with feather light precision, only just cutting the very surface of the skin.

With a deft flick Lady Compassion drew a deep line across Netan’s back, cutting deep into the muscles along his left shoulder, cutting right down to the scapula in places. Crying out in pain as he lost much of the control of his left arm, Netan suddenly found himself unable to do anything else as she was suddenly next to him, suffocating all thoughts with her scent. More than just the smell of drugs or perfume, it was an inherent bouquet that seemed to bypass the nostrils and act directly upon the brain.

She bit into his ear, the act intensely painful as his flesh parted beneath her inhumanly sharp teeth and yet somehow intensely sensual such that the sound Netan let out was trapped somewhere between describing intense pleasure and searing agony. She then whispered, “I can feel your pain Netan. The problem for you is that I like pain.”

Those in attendance watched Lady Compassion take apart Netan over the course of the next seven hours, and none could say that there wasn’t at least a glimmer of jealousy in their hearts that their former leader should be blessed with Lady Compassion’s tender mercies so.

Passing her blood soaked blade off to a servant girl, Lady Compassion said in a bored tone, “Clean that please.”

Practically oozing onto her throne, Lady Compassion then drew her right thumbnail across her left wrist, letting her own dark blood mingle with the already browning gore from Netan. She then reversed the ordering of the implements and then held out her hands for her followers. She said to them in an urging tone, “Come, drink of my blood, and eat of my flesh, so that I might open the gates of paradise for you.”

As the mercenaries and warlords all kneeled before her in reverence rather than the fear most had known from the Goa’uld, Lady Compassion wondered how much she would be able to piss off the Tau’ri that still had religious faith when they found out about this.


In another layer of reality in another universe Asukhon looked at the board they had set up and watched as Mislaato finished consolidating her hold on the Lucian Alliance and scored bonus points for being the first one to acquire ships, while Tzintchi continued to push his tendrils outward into various subversive cultures that would welcome him without truly understanding what he was until it was too late.

They could all see where the game was going. Her early lead was about to evaporate as the others built up a larger industrial and tech base while she still languished on a few backwards worlds and her largest stronghold teetered precariously on the brink of destruction.

Tzintchi glanced at the game while absentmindedly spinning together strands of alien genetic code for one of his projects. Noticing the movement of the pieces, he said, “I do hope you have a plan dear because I do believe that is a squadron of Ha’taks lead by a Prior appearing over your world.”


Lady Justice sat atop a throne of hundreds of skulls, the result of the many battles in the past few weeks between those who had dedicated themselves to the Eightfold Victor and those who followed the Path of Origin. Some of the skulls were from the Asukhon’s worshippers, but the large majority were from those that worshipped the Ori.

The village had long ago been evacuated by all but the stoutest of warriors, and even then the greatest ones amongst them were elsewhere, tasked with rebuilding the pack when this group met their end. Those that remained were arranged in a very specific manner, whipping themselves, drawing blood to please their goddess, staining the soil red with their fervour. Already a few members of the congregation of violence had collapsed; their bodies unable to take the strain the self-flagellation and religious ecstasy put upon them.

Lady Justice looked up at the sky just in time to see the first dots of light falling towards their position. She smiled a shark toothed smile.


In orbit the Prior watched with grim satisfaction as the blasphemers disappeared beneath a searing ball of white light. While the use of the unhallowed technology of this galaxy was repugnant, attacking through the Stargate had been simply impossible with that demon guarding the other side. In the balance, using Ha’taks as instruments of divine punishment was far less offensive to the Ori than allowing the demon and her flock of evil to survive. Of course, such creations of wickedness would have to be abandoned now that the job was done, but still…

Down below on the planet the fireballs from the orbital bombardment started to dim, far sooner than they should have. The mushroom clouds began to change and distort, their colour shifting to an awful blood red, spreading out across the planet like some sort of sickness.

An image of something horrible happening began to form in the Prior’s mind as he tried to read the strands of the future.

“Destroy that cloud!” He cried out in fury to the followers who had provided the ships. They complied obediently and sent more shots raining down upon the primitive, undefended world below. For a time the burning air drowned out the darkness, but these new shots too were consumed, and the cloud began to split and form geometric patterns.

Stalking angrily up to the controls of the flagship, the Prior shoved the Jaffa out of the way of the Pel’tak and began personally commanding the bombardment. The unhallowed technology of this heathen galaxy was just feeding energy into what was taking place. Something sacred and pure would be necessary.

Power flowed through the Prior and into the ship, transforming the yellow-orange blast from the cannons into elongated arrows of brilliant white flame that lanced down into the planet, burning away the unholy taint spreading across the surface. Wherever the Prior turned the guns the touch of the Ori drove away the demon’s blasphemous presence. But already much of the mark it was making had been completed. More power was needed. More power. More…

The Prior had not even noticed the point where he had burst into flames without burning, such was the strength of the connection with his patron Ori that the ascended being had actually manifested through him to provide enough power to purify the planet. They did however notice when a very annoyed and insistent cough cut through their focus.

Standing in a ring about the Prior were a dozen Ancients glowing with soft white light in contrast to his bright orange fires and looking very, very pissed.

It was at that moment that the Ori who had manifested just realized that it was alone and outnumbered by several orders of magnitude in a hostile galaxy.

“You know, we let your agents operate unhindered as you were not technically breaking our laws, right up until this moment,” the lead Ancient said before the group surged forward and mobbed the interloper, dragging him screaming off to the higher planes for his punishment for violating their laws of non-interference.

Aboard the ships all that had seen what they just had suddenly found their decision to throw their lot in with the Ori looking considerably less well thought out than they had originally considered, while the rest of the ships continued their last order and tried to destroy the sign.

Down below on the planet the spell Lady Justice had crafted using the sacrifice of her followers reached completion. While not normally one for such trickery, Asukhon was nowhere near as inflexible on the idea of magic as her predecessor Khorne had been. Thus as a final ‘Fuck you’ to the Ori, Lady Justice had created a planet wide graffiti mark, a grand illusion of bloody clouds to taunt her foes.

Of course, the fact that the mark she chose was one that if it received a large influx of energy from say an Ascended-boosted orbital bombardment it would do something more than just create a short lived illusion was not entirely coincidental. The Ori had, in their panic, burned a grand symbol into the planet in continent sized strokes and provided all of the energy needed.

Reality broke down, unzipping about the world. Lightning cracked across the sky and the seas turned to blood as the Warp began to boil forth in skies above, swallowing the planet whole.


Tzintchi swore in seven thousand languages simultaneously as he watched Asukhon’s plan unfold before he glared at her odiously.

Blinking her lashes at him in false lady-like modesty, Asukhon said, “Now my dear, they did it to the poor Tau’ri with their first supergate, there is no reason turnabout can’t be fair play. Besides, you should feel flattered I stole something so clever from your play book.”

As he picked up one of the Ori figures and tossed it onto her scoring table and then conjured forth a Daemonworld, a freaking Daemonworld, he asked, “How many points is that?”

“Considering I made sure it would still be connected to the Stargate network, more than you’ll likely ever get,” Asukhon said sweetly.

Tzintchi swore again.

[Darth Fanboy]

This fic makes me want to go out and kitbash 40k and Evangelion figures something fierce.

[White Haven]

*Implodes laughing*

A warp-infested Daemonworld with a Stargate. Hooboy, I'm starting to wonder if Daniel might have been a 40k geek sometime in the past; if so, watching his reaction would be goddamned HILARIOUS. Watching him try to explain just what's wrong to Oversight would be even better!

[von Neufeld]

First, I'm glad to see that you revisit universes, and not just add more.

Second, the part about Lady Compassion was about time. I had started to suspect that you had a bias against that part of Chaos.

Third, nice trap for the Ori.

Fourth, while I don't like having megacrossovers grow too large, I must agree with a reviewer on FFN. The people of the N:BSG universe needs to be screwed around with.

[LadyTevar]

0_0

A fraggin' DAEMONWORLD!?!

[Academia Nut]

This fic makes me want to go out and kitbash 40k and Evangelion figures something fierce.

I don't know whether or not to be saddened or heartened that no one has made any fan art for my twisted creations. Probably heartened. Some of the stuff is definitely in the Rule 34 and 36 territory. Unfortunately stating that is probably asking for Rule 35 to be invoked.

But if you do make any kitbashes, please post them, because I'm sure they would be awesome.

*Implodes laughing*

A warp-infested Daemonworld with a Stargate. Hooboy, I'm starting to wonder if Daniel might have been a 40k geek sometime in the past; if so, watching his reaction would be goddamned HILARIOUS. Watching him try to explain just what's wrong to Oversight would be even better!

I'm going by the rule that unless it was specifically stated in Stargate (so things like Star Trek, Star Wars, WoW, etc) they don't have knowledge of them. Of course, should the Enterprise ever show up that will cause some interesting conversations.

First, I'm glad to see that you revisit universes, and not just add more.

Second, the part about Lady Compassion was about time. I had started to suspect that you had a bias against that part of Chaos.

Third, nice trap for the Ori.

Fourth, while I don't like having megacrossovers grow too large, I must agree with a reviewer on FFN. The people of the N:BSG universe needs to be screwed around with.

Basically the challenge here for me is to try and juggle a number of different story lines, the idea being that the Chaos gods are intentionally pushing themselves to see how many schemes they can keep going at once. It also means that if I ever get bored or can't think of anything with one arc I switch over to another one.

And I've thought up how to play with nBSG. They'll come later though.

0_0

A fraggin' DAEMONWORLD!?!

Yes, a fraggin' daemonworld.

[White Haven]

Almost a shame that local knowledge of 40k is nonexistent in the Stargate universe...I can actually see the SGC sifting through all their various experience in parallel-universe transit to attempt to borrow some Space Marines.

[Academia Nut]

Chapter Nine: Temptation

Kyon had a headache. Trying to juggle schoolwork and keeping Haruhi entertained was really starting to wear him thin, especially now that Yuki kept giving him updates on some of the things that had been flitting in and out of their universe because Haruhi had decided that she wanted to meet creatures from other universes.

Yuki had given him The Complete Works of H.P. Lovecraft shortly after their meeting with the creature and he had wondered why she would want to meet anything from another universe when there was the possibility that it could very well be anything like what had come out of that man’s mind. Especially since from what Yuki had been saying to a large degree the guys using their universe as a transfer station were worse.

Kyon made damn sure though that he kept that book well away from Haruhi. It did no good to give her any new sorts of crazy ideas, especially ones that could potentially end with gibbering madness and people being eaten. The cave cricket had been bad enough.

His mind was so weary that it took him a moment to realize that he was doodling on his paper. Glancing down, he found that he was trying to work out how exactly to construct the name that the creature had given him. He immediately scribbled it out, not trying to dare the universe to make things worse for him. Still, the damn sounds that thing had made picked at his brain, like an open wound on the inside on your mouth that would go away if you just stopped tonguing it, but trying to ignore it only brought more attention to how much it bothered you.

Tzintchi. What an odd name, although he supposed if you squinted at it you might be able to call it a mangled version of Shinji or something like that. Definitely a difficult word to get right. What characters would be needed to properly construct those sounds? It would…

Kyon paused as he looked down at what he had written, before angrily scratching it out. He had been warned that the names and symbols could get into your head. These things were corruptors, insidious and powerful and…

Kyon felt a peculiar and unfortunately familiar gaze boring into the back of his head. Turning about, Kyon found Haruhi looking at him funny, the sort of annoyed inquisitive stare that said, “What on Earth are you doing Kyon and why haven’t you included me yet?” while simultaneously insulting his intelligence.

“Kyon, what are you doing?” Haruhi asked him in an annoyed tone.

“Doodling,” Kyon replied honestly while trying not to sound nervous because that would indicate that he had something to hide so therefore something Haruhi would want to see because it was her business to butt into every aspect of Kyon’s life whenever possible just because she could get away with it.

“Let me see,” Haruhi demanded.

“I…” Kyon did not have time to try and deflect her attention before she reached past him and snatched away the piece of paper he had been doodling upon.

Glancing over it, Haruhi then shrugged and said, “You’re not very good at this are you?”

Angrily snatching the paper back from her, Kyon shook his head said, “I wasn’t trying to make it good, which is why I kept scribbling stuff out.”

Sniffing disdainfully, Haruhi said, “And that word was just weird. Tzintchi? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Kyon’s blood ran cold. If he said that name three times it was supposed to summon forth some form of representative to talk to. If Haruhi said it… the possibilities for destruction were endless.

Glancing side to side and noticing that the walls of reality still looked solid, Kyon said, “That’s not how you’re supposed to pronounce it.”

Shaking her head, Haruhi said, “No, it looked like you were very deliberately going for Tzintchi.”

That was two. Come on, think Kyon! Deflect her attention.

Shrugging, Kyon replied, “I was just combining random stuff. Say, did you hear about…”

“Come on; tell me why you were trying to write ‘Tzinchti’? What does it mean?” Haruhi asked.

Three. She had said it three times. Kyon winced and braced for the tentacles to start, but when after a second of nothing happening he finally said, “Alright, it’s the name of an evil character in a book I read, but it’s originally from another language so I was trying to figure out how to spell it. It’s no big deal.”

Haruhi didn’t seem convinced, but she was satisfied with that and left the matter alone. Seeing as how the universe failed to implode, Kyon was just as happy otherwise.

He had almost forgotten the entire incident until he got home later that day and his sister said, “Kyon, you have mail!”

What his sister handed him was a post card of the biggest, richest hotel in the area with an invitation in lurid, flowing writing on the back for Kyon to come meet his ‘Internet friend’ Tzintchi for lunch on the weekend, which was conveniently the next day.

Oh. Crap.


Kyon arrived at the hotel lobby and immediately felt rather shabby, what with the rich décor and expertly dressed staff. Surprisingly though, as soon as he walked through the door holding the post card and looking annoyed and confused one of the staff in a crisply starched uniform approached him and asked, “Are you Kyon-sama?”

Kyon blinked a few times before he said, “Uh… yes, my name is Kyon.”

“Your friend Shinji-sama said to expect you. He is waiting for you in the restaurant, and he also anticipated that you might not be able to meet our exacting dress code standards, so he had an outfit prepared for you. If you would come this way,” the man said, leading a bemused and befuddle Kyon to a private washroom where a richly cut and tailored suit of western fashion was waiting for him with an attendant there to help him. While Kyon waived off the attendant, he did discover that the suit fit him perfectly and showed all of the signs of having been hand tailored specifically for him in the past day.

Once appropriately attired, Kyon was lead to the restaurant section of the hotel where he did a double take when he thought he saw Yuki sitting there only to realize that it was in fact another pale, blue haired girl with a closed off, bookish expression, although she looked considerably more expressive than Yuki when Kyon had first met her. She was wearing a modest blue dress.

The other guests at the table included a thirty-something woman in a dark-purple, almost black, strapless dress that matched her hair with a simple silver cross hanging down and almost plunging into her ample cleavage; a girl with long, vibrant red hair and an expression of supreme smugness in a shimmering scarlet dress; and lastly a quiet, reserved looking young man wearing a suit of identical cut to the one given to Kyon, only coloured dark blue with a slight indigo trim in places to the conservative black and white given to Kyon.

Despite the finery and richness and the elegant, public setting, Kyon could not help but feel his skin crawl in reaction to being around these people, if that was even the appropriate word for them. The hotel staff all seemed oblivious, but Kyon could feel the aura of menace radiating off of them.

He was now in the presence of predators.

“Hello Kyon-san, how are you today?” The young man asked.

“Tzintchi I presume?” Kyon asked while he sat down, a chair pushed forward for him.

“If you wish you can call me Shinji, or possibly Ikari-san if you really feel like being formal, seeing as how I am using this old form. Or technical as how I am borrowing this old form, as are my lovely associates,” Shinji said.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, Kyon said, “And your friends?”

“Katsuragi Misato,” the older woman said in a way that simultaneously gave Kyon a serious case of the willies while also made him feel warm all over.

“Ayanami Rei,” the pale, blue haired girl said in a quiet, flat tone.

“Asuka Langley Soryu,” the red head told him with an arrogant grin.

“We are… how to put it so that you will understand properly? We are… avatars I suppose you could call us, projections of the gods into this reality. We are simultaneously more and less than the servant sent to deliver our message to you. You can thank your friend Haruhi for our ability to be here by the way,” Shinji explained.

“I… see… Ikari-san,” Kyon replied, intentionally trying to distance himself as much as possible from these people.

Shinji grinned slightly while folding his hands together in front of his chest, the smile somehow not reaching his eyes. He then said, “You think us evil and wanting to do harm to you and the ones you care about.”

His expression hardening, Kyon replied, “I know that you sent a warship through here to some other universe just so that you could bully the inhabitants.”

“Bully is an inappropriate term. ‘Massacre the pathetic fools’ is far more appropriate,” Asuka interjected.

“Now, now dear, we’re here to reassure our friend here, not scare him,” Shinji said.

“It is the truth,” Rei pointed out calmly.

Shrugging, Shinji replied, “Yes, but it is not the whole truth. Yes, we deployed our ship with the intent of picking a fight, but not to start a fight.” Shinji then turned back to Kyon and said, “Do you know what the population of my home world is, not counting immortal creatures such as daemons?”

Kyon stared at Shinji before he said, “No.”

“Two billion. In the past eighteen years with some encouragement in the form of very generous social programs we have managed to more than double that number from a low point of about 950 million a few years after a group of psychotic old men tried to kill everyone and only by hijacking the process for the purposes of our own apotheosis did we prevent the extinction of the human race,” Shinji explained slowly.

“Fifteen years before that the same group of old men wiped out half the world’s population to set up for the final killing stroke,” Misato said with cold anger.

“Where we come from, none but the very young have not known hardship and horrors in their lives. It is exceedingly rare for anyone over the age of twenty to have a complete family, and uncommon for even teenagers. We are vicious and predatory, make no mistake, but we are human. We will obliterate with extreme prejudice anything and anyone who stands between us and our friends and families. Mother bears have nothing on us,” Asuka stated.

“And we understand that the same goes for you,” Shinji said. “This is why we leave you alone.”

“Haruhi might wield absolute, omnipotent power, but you are the real deity in the equation seeing as you are unaffected by her power. You are the one constant in the universe that which was carved into the slate of the blackboard that Haruhi writes upon. But one word from you to Haruhi and the whole universe would be rewritten. And yet you care about your friends and family too much to let them be erased like that, so you fight to preserve what is. We applaud your nobility,” Misato said, and then the four of them all gave light applause to Kyon.

“We applaud your nobility because we have none ourselves. We might have our own twisted morals and rules of conduct, but ultimately we are greedy, vicious monsters. We are all that is wrong with humanity given form… and yet enough intelligence to realize that ultimate indulgence in our own baser desires would be counter-productive in the long run. We straddle the fine line between benevolent dictators and competent evil overlords. But we respect you Kyon, we respect what you sacrifice to put up with Haruhi,” Shinji explained.

“But since we are corruptors, we must ask you; how much longer can you keep this up, how much more can you take, what are the limits of your nobility?” Rei asked.

“Even before we arrived here, we have always been with you. We are emotion. How often have you grown furious with Haruhi? How often have you wanted to just give up and let her destroy everything? How often have you wanted to selfishly harness her powers for your own will? And how often have you wondered if Haruhi’s demands might take a more… twisted turn?” Misato said.

“Would you like to hear a tale Kyon-san?” Shinji asked.

“What is it about?” Kyon asked nervously as he tried to keep some mental distance from these creatures. Even when they told him awful things, things that should repulse him, he could hear the terrible logic in their words.

“It’s about a race of creatures we call the Eldar. Their civilization lasted for millions of years, bringing them to the pinnacle of art and technology. Their people lived nearly immortal lives with not a care in the world, protected from the outside universe by their vast powers. Do you know what happened to them?” Shinji asked.

Kyon kept quiet.

“They grew bored. For generations they had no great trials of war or disease or famine to test them. So they turned inward and they created great works of art and civilization. And for a time this satisfied them. But when you live for thousands of years and your history stretches back for millions, with your civilization extending across tens of thousands of worlds, then you will have possibly hundreds of Da Vincis, Leonardos, and Picassos all living at the same time, with hundreds of thousands more in the past. Soon everything will have been done and there will be no way to compete. So they grew bored again. They needed new entertainments, new excitements, and new arts to pass the time. Soon for the immortal Eldar the only thing that could soothe the dullness of eternal life was death. They began to experiment in pain and death, creating horrid works of art of unimaginable cruelty. For thousands of years the filled the void of their lives with the worst excesses of sex, drugs, and rock and roll, until finally all that negative emotion came around to bite them in the ass. They literally birthed a god of hentai, a god that they proceeded to destroy the creatures that gave it existence,” Misato finished off.

“How much longer do you think you can keep Haruhi from growing bored?” Shinji asked maliciously. “More so, how much longer before she starts to think of men as something more than women with penises and flat chests? What happens when she starts to want things that you don’t want to give her? You have already seen how badly she treats Asahina-san, and how willing all the other members of the SOS Brigade are to acquiesce to her demands. How much longer before her harassment turns from thoughtlessness to play?”

Kyon wanted to say that was impossible, that they had been doing great so far, but could he say the same thing a year from now? Two years? Ten? Would they have to spend their whole lives keeping Haruhi from growing bored with existence? Could they keep providing her with new, interesting distractions that were healthy?

“We are the temptations of life: avarice, wrath, apathy, and lust. To fight us is to be human. To embrace us is to be human. We are also the virtues of life: hope, valour, joy, and passion. To desire us is to be human. To fail to live up to us is to be human. We are the dreams and nightmares of an entire species made flesh. We know what you live through, we know more than what you have lived through or ever will live through,” Shinji said.

“And we can teach you to fuck three girls up the ass at the same time and blow their minds,” Misato said crudely.

That snapped Kyon out of it, causing him to angrily slam his hands down on the table while rising. Without another word he turned and left. He had very nearly fallen for their words, had very nearly wanted to know more, wanted to see if they could offer him any way out of the pains, and joys, that living with Haruhi offered. They were monsters trying to seduce him, and he had listened to enough of their poison.

Before he got out of earshot, Shinji said, “We will be here. Even if you throw us out of your universe, lock the door and throw away the key, you will never be rid of what we represent.”

[holyknight]

And the seed has been planted. It will be interesting to see if it germinates or not.

[Academia Nut]

Oh yes, I nearly forgot, I was fiddling around with paint and I created this as a bit of a joke. Crude, but a bit amusing.

[Darth Yoshi]

I love that expression on her face.

[Academia Nut]

Chapter Ten: Raid

Rong-Arya glanced down at the antique pocket watch in their hand, snapping it shut just as the second hand reached the designated point. “Forty-eight hours, times up. Lieutenant Burke, please put in the course to the nearest Federation world.”

While the rest of the crew made final preparations to jump to the Warp, Rong-Arya had a yeoman bring the child, renamed Glory from whatever her unworthy biological parents had called her, to the captain. Under normal circumstances Rong-Arya would berate anyone else for bringing a child aboard a warship, but in this fragile universe the Stiletto was the safest place there was.

Holding the tiny child up, their clawed hands not so much as leaving a scratch upon the smooth, unblemished flesh, they let the child see their face. At first the fires that burned within them had scared the child, but as she came to know them the fear had turned to joy. Joy that was reciprocated. Arya’s wife and children had died in the wars following Second Impact, and Rong had only the vaguest memories of her own family, consumed by the holocaust of Third Impact so very long ago. To raise a child was a blessing.

Tendrils of thought caressed the child’s mind, feeling the tiny mind just beginning the first steps of growth that would transform it from something barely above that of an animal into a sapient mind bursting with thoughts and emotions and possibilities. A thought crossed Rong’s mind and Arya quickly agreed with it. Glory and the Syracusans were the same. The Syracusans had the potential of all sapient species, but they were young and vulnerable, babes in comparison to civilizations such as the Federation and the Cardassians. But instead of caring for and nurturing the young, those two groups saw nothing of worth.

Indeed, what use is a newborn child?

Far too soon though the ship exited the Warp and Lieutenant Burke announced, “We have arrived captain.”

“Any opposing warships?” They asked.

“None ma’am. No ground installations detected either. The system is for all intents and purposes undefended,” Lieutenant Xavier announced.

“Pathetic. Take us into orbit about the world and begin launching transports for the surface. Lieutenant O’Hare, please begin transmission with that subspace communicator we recovered,” Rong-Arya ordered.

“We are online… I think… stupid piece of junk,” Lieutenant O’Hare muttered while fiddling with the controls to the stolen short range communication system. “And… by the gods is this set-up retarded. Alright, we appear to have contact with the colony on the planet.”

A static filled image appeared on the screen of a middle aged man of central Asian descent, this once dark hair turned to salt and pepper while his skin was weathered and cragged from long hours of hard work in the outdoors. Just for that he immediately had more respect from Rong-Arya than the pampered dandies they had slain on the research station.

“I am Administrator Nurlan Fomenko, identify yourselves and your reason for being here,” the man said with not a trace of fear or anger, just the tone of a man who was trying to protect his people. More points to him.

“We are Captain Arya-Rong, Unbound Daemonhost and client to Tzintchi the Nine Fingered and Chaos Undivided, respectively. We have command of the Stiletto, the ship you see before you,” Rong-Arya said, giving the standard formal greeting.

“That answers who you are, but not what you are doing above our world,” Nurlan pointed out.

Chuckling, Rong-Arya dropped the pretentious echo and said, “I can see you are a man of the mould of the old Federation we have read about. I like you already.”

“And I don’t like people who appear over the world I am in charge of with ships I can’t get good readings on who don’t answer my questions,” Nurlan said in an annoyed tone.

Bursting out into full blown laughter, Rong-Arya said, “I really like you. Alright, we’re here for your standard raiding and looting. You have things we need that we can’t particularly pay for, and we want to send a message to your government.”

“You’re surprisingly amicable about this,” Nurlan said.

“You’re surprisingly calm,” Rong-Arya pointed out.

“Panic gets people under my watch killed,” Nurlan replied.

Nodding, Rong-Arya said, “Alright then, unless this is an attempt to lure us into a false sense of security and then ambush us, you get to live. Actually, we’ll just crucify you if you try anything and leave enough of your people alive to take you down, I like you that much.”

Blinking a few times at this declaration, Nurlan asked wearily, “What do I need to do to keep my people alive?”

“We want all the mining equipment you have, food, some of those fancy replicators, and some fusion reactors. We don’t trust any of that antimatter shit you guys seem fond of on your star ships,” Rong-Arya listed.

Hanging his head, Nurlan said, “So everything that makes a colony run.”

“More or less, we probably won’t take everything; we only have so much room in our cargo bays after all,” Rong-Arya said cheerfully.

“I’ll tell the people. Most of them won’t like it, but its not like we have the force to put up even a token resistance,” Nurlan said sadly.


Warlock Hakim could still feel the sway and buckle of the drop ship in his body, but that too was slowly fading with each successive mission. With each passing day his body continued to atrophy while his mind expanded to take its place. Such was the fate of a Herald of Tzintchi. Every last member of the chapter was psychic to some degree, with rank being determined by power and ability as much as tactical insight. But unlike the old Thousand Sons legion, with the Heralds the powerful psykers were the ones that turned to dust. As their powers increased their bodies could not grow to accommodate them, so they had to rely on their armour to bind their spirits to the mortal plane. With Hakim only a Warlock, about equivalent of a sergeant in another chapter, he was about half flesh and half fine sand, although which half was which tended to not stay fixed from moment to moment.

His battle brothers burned brightly in his witch sight around him, their sorcerous energies contained to varying degrees by the wards upon their armour. It still amused Hakim to this day that the design of their armour, of their entire Chapter, was taken directly from a group in the Old Way built from the ground up to fight Chaos. If it hadn’t been for the naming conventions of the other chapters, the Heralds of Tzintchi had very nearly been called the Chaos Knights.

With a thump the shuttle touched down. The Stiletto did not have the capacity to launch ships in the midst of combat, but it did have assault shuttles for the Marines and larger transports for ferrying goods and materials about, and all of them had been deployed for this mission. With the barest of nods, Hakim ordered his men out of the ship, force weapons at the ready, safeties off their storm bolters.

Leaving the shuttle in crisp military perfection, each brother covering two others, Hakim took point and began to lead them away as the shuttle took off from the drop zone to cover them from the air. Reaching out with his senses, Hakim announced, “Shoulder halberds, parade formation. Remain alert though.”

Snapping into rigid formation, the Marines began to follow behind Hakim as he advanced towards the settlement.

“Oh and when the time comes, let me handle it,” Hakim ordered.


Administrator Nurlan stood a proud but defeated man in the main town square of the primary settlement, the majority of the town’s population turned out in the streets about him, fearfully watching as winged craft from the ship above circled like waiting sharks. Then the cries began to lift up as the invaders came into sight.

Their species was unknown, clad as they were in armour, but presumably similar to the horned creature he had in the communications with the ship sitting far above, ready to rain annihilation down upon them if they resisted. These creatures were giants, each one standing between two and a half and three metres tall, covered head to foot in enormous blue armour set with gold trim and awful symbols and sigils that seemed to crawl and squirm across their frames when the eye caught them in the periphery. Bizarrely enough, they were all carrying ornately decorated halberds, as if melee weapons had a purpose in an age of directed energy weapons and star ships. Still, Nurlan would not want to face one of those things.

Coming to a stop in front of Nurlan, the lead soldier announced in a tinny, booming voice, “Greetings, I am Warlock Hakim of the Heralds of Tzintchi, and I am here to ensure that you comply with our demands.”

“It is not like we have a choice,” Nurlan replied wearily. Damn the Federation for leaving them so unprotected out here on the frontier.

“You could fight us,” Hakim pointed out.

Almost as punctuation someone fired a phaser at the hulking, armoured giant, striking him dead in the centre of the chest. The off-yellow beam flared brightly for a second before ceasing, showing that it had failed to scorch the paint.

“Excuse me for one moment,” Hakim noted before raising his right arm, displaying that there were a pair of excessively large gun barrels attached to the top of the gauntlet. With a monstrous roar Hakim opened fire, sending a pair of rounds into the building where the phaser shot had come from. With a dual crack, whatever the warlock had fired exploded, causing the windowsill to give way and dump the young man who had fired defiantly at them.

Walking up to the sprawled out figure, Hakim hauled the man, boy really, to his feet. Nurlan drew in his breath as he realized who had done in. It was Michael McGregor, a hot head who was always blabbing on about how the Federation should take a stronger stance with the Cardassians despite the fact that the boy was only seventeen and really knew nothing about life or military matters.

Dazedly looking up at the armoured titan, Michael suddenly realized just how big Hakim was, towering over him by at least a metre, if not more. Hakim stared down at him through his helmet visor before he said, “Nice try, but next time use something other than a flashlight.” He then backhanded Michael, which while it was rather lackadaisical looking it still picked the boy up off his feet and tossed him a good half metre, the sound of the lad’s jaw snapping clearly audible to the frightened onlookers.

Taking one last look, Hakim shrugged and said, “He’ll live. Brothers, make sure we take him with us afterward.”

Turning back to the crowd, Hakim then said, “Well now that that is done with, let’s move on to the main event, namely the taking of hostages.”

There was a startled gasp and collective cry, but the giant held up his hands in a placating manner and said, “Now, now, when using hostages as living shields it pays to keep them in good health so that any would be rescuers are less inclined to decide that risking their lives to free them is worth it. So do not worry, we will be keeping your children quite safe.”

“Children!” Nurlan cried out angrily.

“Yes, any child below the age of about five Earth years will be taken hostage. Children really tug at the heartstrings of sentimental sops like the leaders of your Federation. Now, will this be a safe, civilized transaction or will we have to make some windows and orphans?” Hakim replied amicably.

Nurlan glared at the giant for a moment before he completely broke down and collapsed to his knees. He said dully, “I wish I could fight you, I really do, but I can’t even offer my own life to buy the rest of my people theirs, can I?”

“Nope, but the captain is really impressed with your attitude. You’re not a coward, but you’re not stupid either. We’re actually thinking of offering you a job,” Hakim said.

“What?” Nurlan asked incredulously.

“The children are coming with us, no questions asked. However, if anyone wishes to follow, well who are we to stop them? In fact, we need people to help with working your technology. Now, I will preface it with the point that you’re going to be the equivalent of slaves if you follow us, but you will get to see your children on occasion, and if you work hard and earn our trust you might even be freed,” Hakim explained.

Looking around the assembled faces, Nurlan dropped his head again and said, “I have failed as a leader and protector for these people, and so if it will make up for it in some small way I will accompany you to ensure our children’s safety.”

“Good show man! Have a brochure,” Hakim then reached into his belt and pulled out a small piece of folded plastic and handed it to Nurlan. On the front was a picture of a smiling, cartoon-like man dressed in a red jumpsuit with grey trim, giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up while in bold English letters the tile was, “Chaos: FUCK YEAH!”

“You have a brochure?” Nurlan asked in bemusement.

“You would not believe how useful those things are after you’ve conquered an area. Actually… yeah, I do believe that as Administrator for honourably surrendering while keeping your population and industry intact you are eligible for one free mutation of your choice off the list in the back. I recommend picking now before you get a random one,” Hakim explained.

Turning the brochure over in a sort of bizarre haze, Nurlan looked at it before he furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “Prehensile genitalia?”

“It’s a very popular choice, although if I was in your shoes and had my pick from that list it would be awakening psychic potential, but that’s just me. Considering that you’re probably going to be put on hard labour detail, enhanced endurance or bulging muscles might be a better choice,” Hakim said.

“Are you people insane?” Nurlan asked.

“You can’t imagine. Anyway, enough dilly-dallying, it’s time to start marching everyone who doesn’t want to part with the kids into the transports. Come now, I don’t want to have to shoot anyone, cleaning blood off a screaming toddler is no fun at all,” Hakim said while the rest of his squad began to form a perimeter and herd people out of the settlement.

In the end every couple with young children, most of the elderly, and a few relatives or people of power followed Hakim away, leaving behind the young couples without children yet or the older ones who had children already grown enough to make it past the cut off point. It was a brutal process that separated friends and extended families that had been working to make the colony thrive for nearly two generations, but it was better than having immediate families torn apart.

Nurlan seriously wondered which group was worse off as the shuttle doors sealed, cutting him off from the air of his home.

[Robo Jesus]

Evil Overlord List. Check.
Amusing Evilness. Check.
Chaos Brochure. Check.

Yep, this chapter works quite well on both character interaction and amusement factors.

Why do I get the feeling though that the StarTrek EPS grids are going to find use as a way of not only shunting waste heat away, but also using it to give further power to the ship.

(For those who don't know, when you mix matter and anti-matter together, you don't actually get electricity, but instead you get large amounts of heat and radiation. In order to use anti-matter as an actual power source, you need to use the heat itself, and the EPS grids (beyond seemingly being placed behind every console on a Federation starship ) are a great way to distribute heat throughout a ship and in turn use it as a power source. Anything which produces large amounts of heat could in turn be shunted through a miniaturized version of an EPS grid and converted into backup power with converter taps.)