07-17-2017, 09:17 AM
"Well...looks like things are goin' well for us out here..." The lazy drawl of one of the co-commanders of the naval force harassing and corrupting the Vasty Deep drifted up from where its owner sat in the captain's cabin of one of their myriad warships. "Makin' all kinds of progress..."
"What are you saying, Bola?" A swirling cloud of smoke filled the room with an echoing thrum of energy, and under the hazy screen the bulky, metallic form of the other co-commander thunked down, the boards creaking dangerously under his immense weight. "We're barely keeping momentum out there. The Empire finally took notice, and they're putting up more of a fight than we can handle."
"Relax, Klaymoor. Look, we got all those punks over at the island we introduced to our boss's gifts, right? They're keeping us pretty well-supplied, and keeping ol' Admiral Lightfingers occupied pretty well." Bola reclined in his chair, lifting a leg to stomp on the table with a boot, indicating the scattering of maps and charts there. "Besides, progress might have slowed down...but it is still progressing." He flicked a wrist, and his arm erupted in dark fire, a scattering of dark chips hovering over his upturned palm. "And besides...with these bad boys? We can't lose."
"Hmph. Damnable fool...you're half right," the towering tank rumbled. "But don't get complacent, Bola. You've heard what happened. General Laserman was defeated, Coruscant has been freed from our attempts to control it. We've just lost contact with Desertman, in the Endless Dunes. Communications are shaky with Doctor Psyche and the Black Knight, and Plant Man has just informed us that there's some unwanted company that breached his doorstep."
"I know, I know, Klaymoor...I know," Bola said slowly, the haze of dark power around his arm dying down. "Look, we've got the strongest position out of all those schmucks. Sure, anyone who's strong enough to take on Laserman and come out alive is nothing to overlook, but he was pretty sedentary. Had all those robots and Cybermen to do his fighting for him. Probably didn't even make it to the fight himself."
"Just be on your guard, Bola. You and I both know if the Empire's Navy manages to get much more help, what little progress we do have will grind to a halt." The massive hulk of metal and weapons was engulfed in a swirling plume of smoke, and vanished as suddenly as he'd come. "I'm going to make my daily report to Metal Shark Player. Go do something useful with yourself."
"Pleasure talkin' to ya as always, Klaymoor..." Bola mumbled, before heaving a sigh. He let his chair fall forward, boots hitting the ground, and he stood up with all the grace and poise of a man with both legs asleep on him. One hand went to his back, and he leaned this way and that, eliciting a sharp rhythm of sickening pops, cracks and other unsightly noises. "Man...gotta thank big boss Nebula for one thing. Dark power sure does make you forget about the aches and pains of gettin' old."
He lazily strolled across the room, to a shuttered window. Flicking it open, he peered out, just in time to catch sight of something entirely absurd. Several of his subordinates, and many more denizens of the deeps itself driven mad by exposure to dark power, crawling down the barrels of oversized cannons. Launching themselves at distant warships bearing Empire colors. "...well, I think that qualifies for my overseeing duties for the day. They've got it handled."
And he turned around, letting the shutters fall back into place, and went back to have a seat. "Maybe I should just head back to headquarters and guard the portal or something...I don't even think I'm needed out here."
"What are you saying, Bola?" A swirling cloud of smoke filled the room with an echoing thrum of energy, and under the hazy screen the bulky, metallic form of the other co-commander thunked down, the boards creaking dangerously under his immense weight. "We're barely keeping momentum out there. The Empire finally took notice, and they're putting up more of a fight than we can handle."
"Relax, Klaymoor. Look, we got all those punks over at the island we introduced to our boss's gifts, right? They're keeping us pretty well-supplied, and keeping ol' Admiral Lightfingers occupied pretty well." Bola reclined in his chair, lifting a leg to stomp on the table with a boot, indicating the scattering of maps and charts there. "Besides, progress might have slowed down...but it is still progressing." He flicked a wrist, and his arm erupted in dark fire, a scattering of dark chips hovering over his upturned palm. "And besides...with these bad boys? We can't lose."
"Hmph. Damnable fool...you're half right," the towering tank rumbled. "But don't get complacent, Bola. You've heard what happened. General Laserman was defeated, Coruscant has been freed from our attempts to control it. We've just lost contact with Desertman, in the Endless Dunes. Communications are shaky with Doctor Psyche and the Black Knight, and Plant Man has just informed us that there's some unwanted company that breached his doorstep."
"I know, I know, Klaymoor...I know," Bola said slowly, the haze of dark power around his arm dying down. "Look, we've got the strongest position out of all those schmucks. Sure, anyone who's strong enough to take on Laserman and come out alive is nothing to overlook, but he was pretty sedentary. Had all those robots and Cybermen to do his fighting for him. Probably didn't even make it to the fight himself."
"Just be on your guard, Bola. You and I both know if the Empire's Navy manages to get much more help, what little progress we do have will grind to a halt." The massive hulk of metal and weapons was engulfed in a swirling plume of smoke, and vanished as suddenly as he'd come. "I'm going to make my daily report to Metal Shark Player. Go do something useful with yourself."
"Pleasure talkin' to ya as always, Klaymoor..." Bola mumbled, before heaving a sigh. He let his chair fall forward, boots hitting the ground, and he stood up with all the grace and poise of a man with both legs asleep on him. One hand went to his back, and he leaned this way and that, eliciting a sharp rhythm of sickening pops, cracks and other unsightly noises. "Man...gotta thank big boss Nebula for one thing. Dark power sure does make you forget about the aches and pains of gettin' old."
He lazily strolled across the room, to a shuttered window. Flicking it open, he peered out, just in time to catch sight of something entirely absurd. Several of his subordinates, and many more denizens of the deeps itself driven mad by exposure to dark power, crawling down the barrels of oversized cannons. Launching themselves at distant warships bearing Empire colors. "...well, I think that qualifies for my overseeing duties for the day. They've got it handled."
And he turned around, letting the shutters fall back into place, and went back to have a seat. "Maybe I should just head back to headquarters and guard the portal or something...I don't even think I'm needed out here."