Patterns of Chaos: Book One - The First War

It was night in London when the small shuttle from the Chancel began to hover over the English Channel. The team accompanying Stragdoc mainly consisted of the same group that had sprung him from custody back in ’47, with the team leader Victor Karman now in charge of covert operations. Of course, this operation was only going to be semi-covert due to what they had been told the Emperor had planned. A small vessel was lowered from the shuttle loaded with the team, which quietly made its way up the Thames.

Karman’s team was clad in black armor, the Emperor clad in a long jacket of the same kind that Karman had presented to him on the day of his release. A thin layer of armor lined the coat, strong enough to stop a bullet, the same sort of polymer used in construction of several areas of the Chancel; only there of course it was much thicker. Otherwise, the only protection the Emperor wore were a sidearm and a ballistic vest.

“Two minutes to target, sir.” Karman intoned, the consummate professional. Stragdoc nodded, maintaining his mental shield. He would have to drop it eventually, but he knew that Jennifer was likely mentally scanning for him, trying to discern what he was planning. Moreover, he did not want her to know what was happening until it was too late.

The Embassy sat near the riverbank, guards patrolling the perimeter. The craft pulled to the shoreline, the team silently disembarking. “I want our people out alive. For each one that dies, I kill a member of this team.” Stragdoc ordered, sensing their discomfort at the command. “Now clear me a path to the entrance.”

“Sir.” Karman nodded, signaling his men. All prepped weapons of relatively new design, streamlined rifles that were capable of reducing a target to their constituent molecules: the Atomic Displacement Rifle, or ADR. The group advanced to the perimeter, getting remarkably close to the embassy before being called out by the guards. Green lines silently lanced out from the rifles, Stragdoc making a mental note to add some kind of sound effect to future models if only to satisfy his nostalgia for television and movie “laser guns”.

Caught by surprise, the guards fell quickly. Stragdoc strode for the front gate, dropping his mental barrier to take hold of the double doors with his mind, tearing them loose before he reached the entranceway. More guards began running towards the doorway from inside, to no avail as the Emperor grabbed them mentally, slamming them into the floor, knocking them unconscious.

Marching inwards, Stragdoc called out. “Anyone who is still allegiant to the Emperor had better get out of here. Anyone who isn’t...COME AND GET ME!”

Doors flew open all over, Alphites staring in shock as their leader continued his walk into the central rotunda of the Embassy, smirking as he effortlessly struck down the human guards with his mind. Many of the guards upon seeing the destruction following the now madly grinning Stragdoc turned tail and fled, his mad laughter echoing after them. For too long had he pent up his abilities, only now unleashing them in full force. One guard managed to get a few rounds off in his general direction before Stragdoc noticed him. One of the rounds had pinged off his ballistic vest. Stragdoc extended his arm in the guard’s direction, lifting him from the ground. To any watching, it looked like sorcery.

“Who are you that dare raise arms against me?” Stragdoc grinned widely now, telekinetically dragging the man closer to him. The guard remained stoically silent, refusing to succumb to the panic he felt at facing a man turned insane god. Stragdoc mentally tore his nametag from his uniform. “St. George, eh? Come to slay the dragon? Pity that there is no maiden to rescue.” Casting the scrap of fabric aside, Stragdoc firmed his mental hold on him. “You show bravery and I value that. Swear loyalty to me and I shall allow you to live as my subject.”

St. George merely spat on the floor in response.

Sneering, Stragdoc further tightened his hold on him. “Then set an example for all those who might dare to follow in your footsteps.” St. George felt enormous pressure building on his skull, and spared a thought for his family before the Emperor crushed his skull under the boot heel of his mind, casting him aside. Seeing Calixta Morsalis running for the entrance, Stragdoc signaled the shuttle to begin extraction.

That done, he stood in the wreckage of the rotunda. Moans echoed throughout the building from the injured and dying. He closed his eyes, feeling out with his mind for any more of his people within, felt nothing, then that familiar voice pierced his mind.

What have you DONE? Jennifer Safyo screamed at him mentally. His mad grin firmly in place, Stragdoc simply sent mocking laughter at her, and then grasped the ceiling of the building with his mind. Turning around, he began collapsing the structure behind him dramatically, as much for his own people’s benefit as his enemies’. His people would remember this day, and talk of the power he showed in rescuing those he viewed as his children.

His enemies would be forced to think very hard about what sort of response to show to this action, now knowing what he was capable of.

He smiled as he saw emergency crews race towards the rubble of his former Embassy. And thus, he smiled, do I declare humanity obsolete.