Victor Ferreira's Story

Theme: The Monarch-Ending Pledge

It's been a long time coming
I was here a decade ago
They were in the throes
Of change like nobody knows

I saw the king
He stepped up to his little throne
The nobles tossed
And were tossed their little bones

It's like a
Powder keg waiting to explode

You should still feel my resounding echo
I took shape of one of the king's beloved foes
And then the game the started
Here come some long awaited woes

Chorus

Now here we stand
On the precipice
In the days before
The monarch-ending pledge

We're on the edge
Of the precipice
In the days before
The monarch-ending pledge

It's not a sin
To hate the crown
Now the nobles sign to take him down

We're on the edge
Now
Of the monarch ending pledge

On the edge

Ending

I hope the roads don't run red
With blood 'cept for his

But if they do
I'm sure that it's worth some people
Getting hurt for that crown

As we've remolded their minds
And stoked the fire of the town
Now the powder keg will pop
Because of our golden liars
And their golden talk

And soon that crown
Will adorn a new ruler's head
For the last one was taken down
Down with a monarch-ending pledge

And now we're on the edge
Of a new beginning
Of the dawn
Of their ending.

Note: The following note is a copy/paste of the video’s description; please read it: “I wrote and recorded this while sick. I can't sing as well as I could before I was struck my illness. I'm lucky I didn't start hacking. That's why I'm asking you not to judge too harshly. I also didn't memorize the song because I recorded right after I wrote it (I do that sometimes), so that's why I kept looking to that reflection.”

Chatter between the vessels Naval Group #33 about their months-long mission to gain control of the Royal Empire of Mezzadrate with their interspatial primary communications grid was frequent. Encrypted messages were looped through a dimension, and then to its target, it made communications almost immediate and gave a modicum of protection against opponents who would listen or read in, and glean fact from something they should have never had access to. That protection and encryption often didn’t apply for those in the chain of command, as the chatter was being listened to by the commanders and chief councilors of Naval Group #33, and their almond-skinned Admiral, Victor Ferreira. It was standard for commanders, their chief councilors, and the head officer of naval vessels to learn how their crew felt, and though telepathy and empathy were traits imbued in many officers, Admiral Ferreira liked to use an A.I. to scan and detect anything that might prove interesting. Used to scan for threats to Attican Productivities, the A.I. was used by Ferreira so he could see or hear how others felt in wording alongside their thoughts.

An experienced naval officer, Admiral Ferreira knew that people didn’t always say what they felt, and that thoughts sometimes came out differently in writing or speech, and that extra facet to look at this from was why he did this. In the left corner of the second hardlight projected interface was the video message he and his officers were looking at; one of the young ensigns seemed to be worried about returning home to his young wife. Before this video message was played, another crew member had written his third letter to his mother, another letter to his brother, and more to the rest of his closest friends and family - one letter per day, per person, though he admitted he might not be able to manage it.

”The crew is obviously worried about missing their families. It isn’t just the young officers, either. I know this is normal among ships on long missions, but because the rotation of some ships and officers was postponed, I feel as though this should be more seriously addressed. If we had time to let their families board, it would be better, but the ” Councillor Iris Bennet spoke first in her light English accent as she was the councillor of aboard Admiral Ferreira’s ship. Most of the other councillors and their commanders chipped in. It was nearly unanimous that something be done about it.

”You, the other councillors, and the chief medical officers shall figure something out while the mission goes on. Captain Amai, your frigate may now depart from the group to begin the mission.” The Admiral said.

The A.P.S.S. Drunk Monkey under Captain Amai Mikazuki (surname is Amai, first name is Mikazuki) was a marvelous example of Attican technology; the 325 meter long Drunk Monkey was armed to the teeth with weapons, scientific equipment, and the latest technological and superhuman designs of Attican Productivities. An enhanced model Wolverine-class heavy frigate, it had a crew complement of only 82 thanks to automation and drones, and another complement of 4 large drones, and nearly a hundred much, much smaller ones used for multiple purposes, such as investigation, mining, repairs, and sentry work. Sleek like other Attican vessels, it didn’t appear to have any viewing ports (mostly to increase the strength of its hull) and was gorgeous with its dark, dark blue surface, lighter blue accents along the edges, and the ‘flag’ of its company on the left of the vessel. At the center of the ship where most large ‘masts’ would be was a simple point, and the Drunk Monkey, which seemed to be slightly bent in some areas, was one of the prides of Attican design. Using a double-hulled design, a shield generator for each side of the vessel, and the plentiful technologies of Attican Productivities enhanced models, it was seen as superior to the tactical versions of the frigate class sold to customers.

Hidden using dimensional crossover, the Admiral’s hypercarrier and the rest of the 65-ship Naval Group #33, a part of White Fleet 6, were just outside of the star system that Cleo Wright had been in about a decade ago. Ferreira was told that Cleo Wright had been to Mezzadrate as admirals had access to that data, but he wasn’t told that she blended in because of her abilities, instead being told they used cosmetic surgery and DNA mimicry to make her fit in; most everyone knew that Cleo Wright had some sort of magical ability, but she didn’t want them to know the full extent of it yet. Using dimensional crossover as part of their approach stealth technology, the ships were nearly undetectable, being ‘removed’ from this area of space, moved to an artificially created dimension that harmoniously resonated with the dimension the vessel’s originated from, yet allowed to watch events unfold, and use their scanning technology because of this harmonious resonating, and the Drunk Monkey that made a short-ranged jump was no exception. Entering outer orbit around the planet Mezz immediately after exiting its jump, the vessel would take scans of the area, taking note of another vessel of unknown origins that had sent out starfighters. Not knowing the location of the invisible, moving continent of Mezzadrate, the captain and her crew would be patient for the starfighters and their mother ship to leave, or for them to find the continent so that the noble family Malfuseus could have their minds placed under the control of Cleo Wright’s company.

The starfighters had been travelling at a steady yet quick pace in pursuit of this anomaly they spotted in the middle of space. "Sir." One called out on the comm to Wit Skura. "I don't see anything just yet." The pilot turned to look out one of the side windows of the fighter to his fellow pilots, wondering if they saw anything he didn't. As he was turning his head, he got a gut feeling that caused him to shudder. Like something wasn't right...

Just as this feeling came and passed, the cloak around the continent dissipated as the pilots of the starfighters now pulled up on their controllers, trying to avoid crashing into the shield (or worse yet, crashing into the continent below). Four of the six managed to narrowly avoid the shield, the other two were unfortunate - their reaction time was either two slow, or delayed due to shock as they pelted against the shield in a large explosion for each of them. Had their been no blast of hellish flame from the destroyed vessel, the men could have had a chance of survival out in the void, but alas...all that remained now was dust and screams echoing into nothing.

"Two and Fives? Two and Fives, answer me!" Nothing but dead air greeted Wit as he took in a deep breath. Two men dead on his watch already. Fuck...

As this happened, the intercom opened with a message from the continent below. Wit had the technician accept the incoming broadcast to see what was said. Once it was done, he sent his own message down and trying to keep his voice from shaking after the anger had hit him. "This is Wit Skura of The 6th Order. We are here on our Holy Galactic Quest to rid this here Multiverse of all alien humanoid lifeforms and return it to its former glory. Be aware that any hostile actions against us will be seen as an act of war against The 6th Order."

Being tapped on the shoulder by another technician, he looked to the report. Another ship was nearby, they hadn't determined if it was friendly or not and it hadn't taken any action. Though he wasn't prepared for combat of any sort, Wit let out a heavy sigh and opened up the communication again to the continent below. "I've said what I need to say officially...if this unknown vessel isn't one of your own, we can deal with it for you as an act of reassurance. We do not appreciate people getting in the way of our 'negotiations'."