The Navigator's Throne, page 8
part #1 of Nocturna League Series
Grancis nods, and hands it over. “This seemed like a waste of our time.”
“Nothing’s a waste,” The Captain says, “so long as you learn from the mistake.”
The Dark Lord Gets His, and The Action Falls
The doors to the slug’s wonderfully lavish office burst open under the crippling boot of the legendary captain: The Captain.
“Good evening,” The Captain greets with a slurring wave.
The Dark Lord, doing its best to tie the next Feast Swine onto a spit for cooking, waves its body over in shock. Initially, it was shocked because it thought one of the villagers came in looking for their pig, and he’d have to come up with some excuse for why it’s about to eat it, but The Captain makes the invertebrate far more nervous.
“O-oh my! You’ve r-r-r-returned victorious!” the slug squeals, poorly veiling its horror.
The Captain takes up his pistol from his coat with Dunklestein right behind him. “I don’t like it when colorful dragons like you try to sacrifice my crew to eldritch sea gods.”
The slug, trembling in terror, does its very best to join its squishies together in a pensive joining of the hands. “Ahh, well, you see. I wasn’t really talking about that Mermaid’s Tear. I was really, actually talking about… the uh…-”
“Got ya, lad. Business is done,” The Captain says. Everyone who’s been crewing on The Nocturna for a while knows not to get in The Captain’s way when he speaks with a crude level of brevity like this, but this slug’s never jobbed for The Nocturna before.
“Oh, well, maybe you’d like some…” it watches The Captain raise his pistol. “Feast… Swine?” it says, looming directly over to the poor, squealing piggie attempting to undo its binds.
“If you’ve enough salt to flavor it,” The Captain says with a critical, specifically-criminal tone, which he’s executing quite well despite how difficult it is for him to see anything right now.
“O-oh willows,” is the slug’s last words.
The office fills with gunfire, and The Dark Lord of the island is given a lifetime’s worth of lead poisoning.
“Gat, bitch,” Dunklestein says, not so unlike a gang member.
The Captain refills his cylinder with another eight shots. “Well, this has been a strange adventure,” he says, admiring the scent of the smoke from his gun for a second.
“Yeah,” Dunklestein says, finishing his own reload and slamming the door shut behind the two of them. “I’m sure the humans’ll be thrilled.”
“If its first idea was to go sacrifice us to the local mermaids, then yes, I think they’ll be fairly pleased.”
“So what are we here for, Cap?”
“Just to make sure it wouldn’t redirect us with its layline trickery… and to take all its artifacts.”
“Classic Cap,” Dunks says with a scoff. “You’re always after the magic.”
The two walk through the office, and easily finding the secret entrance to The Dark Lord’s mysticarium.
“What a slob,” The Captain notes, disgusted at the now rife scent of Feast Swine skeletons littered about stacks of old books and poorly graphed curse scrolls.
The current Feast Swine, having worked out of its ropes, pokes its head into the room alongside them with an expression of pure piggish horror.
“So anything good here?” Dunklestein asks.
The Captain stares blankly for a moment at a few devices and book names. “To be quite honest with you I’m way to high to see straight.” He points to a book. “Read this one out to me?”
With a smarmy frown the shark man picks up the volume. “Reciting The Keys, R.L. Storn.”
“Absolute beginner,” The Captain mutters to himself, stepping away and right to a stone table in the center of the room, holding a trio of weird, non-Euclidean stone shapes “Fair enough then.” The Captain shoots one of the stones, causing the other two to fall, which he picks up and places into his coat. “Might as well burn it down so none of the humans get any bright ideas. They can get along fine without magic.”
“Yeah?”
“They have farming, sunbathing, and Feast Swine.”
The Feast Swine squeals in shock, causing The Captain to reach down and pat the trembling little piggie. “Don’t worry,” he says with a gentle encouragement, “death isn’t all that bad. Take it from an authority.”
He gets back to his feet and starts out. “On we go.”
“Go where, Cap?”
The Captain fishes out The Mermaid’s Tear from his coat: a stone slab that contains writhing, aquatic calligraphies with eldritch, unspeakable truths relayed. “For the first time in centuries,” The Captain starts, “exactly where I want to be going,” he says with a soulless, limitlessly-ambitious voice, scraping like a hundred thousand souls against one another.
T.L. #883,231 c9
. . .
HighestGlories: I read your report of the incident.
Aqan01: Very good, sir.
HighestGlories: I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting subspacers to be capable of using high R.W. elements against our forces so easily.
Aqan01: Indeed, sir.
HighestGlories: I also understand that these subspacers in question were in fact employ to Requisitions.
Aqan01: Yes, sir.
HighestGlories: And you’re very certain that the tag on The Reaper was positive?
Aqan01: Absolutely, sir. In fact it was the only reliable piece of data we were able to pull, sir.
HighestGlories: That’s very troubling.
Aqan01: I understand, sir.
HighestGlories: You also realize this means that “The Eversea” sector is getting a Class Four Alpha because of this? The threat is now too high if The Reaper Amalgamation is present, we’re going to have to put on some more pressure.
Aqan01: I will be capable of the task at hand, sir.
HighestGlories: I have no doubt of it. You’re the best we have in this line. Please tell me how you’re planning on dealing with this.
Aqan01: If I may ask, I assume this classification will be official, and will come with the funding increase?
HighestGlories: Naturally. Victory doesn’t happen without a little time and money.
Aqan01: Very good, sir. We have enough tracking data to guess their general location using the preliminary A.I.. I’m going to try to infiltrate them with a team I’ve already prepared for the dispatch.
HighestGlories: Subspacers?
Aqan01: Naturally, sir. We need to let likes take care of likes.
HighestGlories: I can appreciate a minimalist approach. Who are they?
Aqan01: I’ll put forward the dossiers.
Attached:
HighestGlories: One moment while I look over this.
Aqan01: Of course.
HighestGlories: This is good, Aqan. Very good. If they can get the jump on it, maximize a distraction, they’ll do the job fine.
Aqan01: I agree, sir. They’re the best I found, and they’ll be well supported with information. We have enough data to understand what to hit in the ship, and we do have the weapons available to make it happen.
HighestGlories: How wonderful this all is.
Aqan01: I don’t understand your meaning, sir.
HighestGlories: When I was young, humanity was so afraid, so small. We’d look at things like these and say they weren’t real, nightmares that crawled out of the brinks of our perverse imaginations to torment us.
Aqan01: They are truly horrible, sir.
HighestGlories: But now, the more we understand, even things as massive as gods begin to lose their previously-untouchable power.
Aqan01: We are becoming like her in a way, sir.
HighestGlories: She was never afraid. Bless her heart. I know she wanted to be. To be like us and share our problems, but she was too vast, too limitless to feel it.
Aqan01: She’s truly blessed you with an undying faith, sir.
HighestGlories: You will believe ever more when you see what I have seen.
Aqan01: I look forward to it, sir.
HighestGlories: Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. You’re one of the few scribes I know will always take the blame when it goes awry. It’s the mark of honesty, a good heart, and someone that truly wants to better the world through responsibility.
Aqan01: Thank you, sir. It means a good deal coming from you.
HighestGlories: Gladly. Is that all the business?
Aqan01: Yes, sir.
HighestGlories: Until next time, then. I’ll be looking forward to a more optimistic report.
Aqan01: You can count on it, sir.
-To Be Continued-
About the Author:
This is Kell Inkston, kiddo. 100% Homegrown Head Analyst.
Kell’s totally into talking to readers.
After all, what else is there to do?
Kell’s not gonna write all day, please.
Kell’s got a job.
And even though that job includes writing all day…
It’s still a hard pass from Kell with that dumb responsibility stuff.
That said, Kell would really like it if you would join its Facebook group.
Lots of cool things happen there.
And no weird, bad things.
None at all.
What’s this group, you ask?
Why, it’s https://www.facebook.com/groups/KellInkston/, you dummy.
Everyone knows that.
…Never mind.
It turns out that not everyone knows that after all.
Kell apologizes for being so presumptuous.
Kell asks for your forgiveness.
Kell Inkston, The Navigator's Throne
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“Nothing’s a waste,” The Captain says, “so long as you learn from the mistake.”
The Dark Lord Gets His, and The Action Falls
The doors to the slug’s wonderfully lavish office burst open under the crippling boot of the legendary captain: The Captain.
“Good evening,” The Captain greets with a slurring wave.
The Dark Lord, doing its best to tie the next Feast Swine onto a spit for cooking, waves its body over in shock. Initially, it was shocked because it thought one of the villagers came in looking for their pig, and he’d have to come up with some excuse for why it’s about to eat it, but The Captain makes the invertebrate far more nervous.
“O-oh my! You’ve r-r-r-returned victorious!” the slug squeals, poorly veiling its horror.
The Captain takes up his pistol from his coat with Dunklestein right behind him. “I don’t like it when colorful dragons like you try to sacrifice my crew to eldritch sea gods.”
The slug, trembling in terror, does its very best to join its squishies together in a pensive joining of the hands. “Ahh, well, you see. I wasn’t really talking about that Mermaid’s Tear. I was really, actually talking about… the uh…-”
“Got ya, lad. Business is done,” The Captain says. Everyone who’s been crewing on The Nocturna for a while knows not to get in The Captain’s way when he speaks with a crude level of brevity like this, but this slug’s never jobbed for The Nocturna before.
“Oh, well, maybe you’d like some…” it watches The Captain raise his pistol. “Feast… Swine?” it says, looming directly over to the poor, squealing piggie attempting to undo its binds.
“If you’ve enough salt to flavor it,” The Captain says with a critical, specifically-criminal tone, which he’s executing quite well despite how difficult it is for him to see anything right now.
“O-oh willows,” is the slug’s last words.
The office fills with gunfire, and The Dark Lord of the island is given a lifetime’s worth of lead poisoning.
“Gat, bitch,” Dunklestein says, not so unlike a gang member.
The Captain refills his cylinder with another eight shots. “Well, this has been a strange adventure,” he says, admiring the scent of the smoke from his gun for a second.
“Yeah,” Dunklestein says, finishing his own reload and slamming the door shut behind the two of them. “I’m sure the humans’ll be thrilled.”
“If its first idea was to go sacrifice us to the local mermaids, then yes, I think they’ll be fairly pleased.”
“So what are we here for, Cap?”
“Just to make sure it wouldn’t redirect us with its layline trickery… and to take all its artifacts.”
“Classic Cap,” Dunks says with a scoff. “You’re always after the magic.”
The two walk through the office, and easily finding the secret entrance to The Dark Lord’s mysticarium.
“What a slob,” The Captain notes, disgusted at the now rife scent of Feast Swine skeletons littered about stacks of old books and poorly graphed curse scrolls.
The current Feast Swine, having worked out of its ropes, pokes its head into the room alongside them with an expression of pure piggish horror.
“So anything good here?” Dunklestein asks.
The Captain stares blankly for a moment at a few devices and book names. “To be quite honest with you I’m way to high to see straight.” He points to a book. “Read this one out to me?”
With a smarmy frown the shark man picks up the volume. “Reciting The Keys, R.L. Storn.”
“Absolute beginner,” The Captain mutters to himself, stepping away and right to a stone table in the center of the room, holding a trio of weird, non-Euclidean stone shapes “Fair enough then.” The Captain shoots one of the stones, causing the other two to fall, which he picks up and places into his coat. “Might as well burn it down so none of the humans get any bright ideas. They can get along fine without magic.”
“Yeah?”
“They have farming, sunbathing, and Feast Swine.”
The Feast Swine squeals in shock, causing The Captain to reach down and pat the trembling little piggie. “Don’t worry,” he says with a gentle encouragement, “death isn’t all that bad. Take it from an authority.”
He gets back to his feet and starts out. “On we go.”
“Go where, Cap?”
The Captain fishes out The Mermaid’s Tear from his coat: a stone slab that contains writhing, aquatic calligraphies with eldritch, unspeakable truths relayed. “For the first time in centuries,” The Captain starts, “exactly where I want to be going,” he says with a soulless, limitlessly-ambitious voice, scraping like a hundred thousand souls against one another.
T.L. #883,231 c9
. . .
HighestGlories: I read your report of the incident.
Aqan01: Very good, sir.
HighestGlories: I’ll admit that I wasn’t expecting subspacers to be capable of using high R.W. elements against our forces so easily.
Aqan01: Indeed, sir.
HighestGlories: I also understand that these subspacers in question were in fact employ to Requisitions.
Aqan01: Yes, sir.
HighestGlories: And you’re very certain that the tag on The Reaper was positive?
Aqan01: Absolutely, sir. In fact it was the only reliable piece of data we were able to pull, sir.
HighestGlories: That’s very troubling.
Aqan01: I understand, sir.
HighestGlories: You also realize this means that “The Eversea” sector is getting a Class Four Alpha because of this? The threat is now too high if The Reaper Amalgamation is present, we’re going to have to put on some more pressure.
Aqan01: I will be capable of the task at hand, sir.
HighestGlories: I have no doubt of it. You’re the best we have in this line. Please tell me how you’re planning on dealing with this.
Aqan01: If I may ask, I assume this classification will be official, and will come with the funding increase?
HighestGlories: Naturally. Victory doesn’t happen without a little time and money.
Aqan01: Very good, sir. We have enough tracking data to guess their general location using the preliminary A.I.. I’m going to try to infiltrate them with a team I’ve already prepared for the dispatch.
HighestGlories: Subspacers?
Aqan01: Naturally, sir. We need to let likes take care of likes.
HighestGlories: I can appreciate a minimalist approach. Who are they?
Aqan01: I’ll put forward the dossiers.
Attached:
HighestGlories: One moment while I look over this.
Aqan01: Of course.
HighestGlories: This is good, Aqan. Very good. If they can get the jump on it, maximize a distraction, they’ll do the job fine.
Aqan01: I agree, sir. They’re the best I found, and they’ll be well supported with information. We have enough data to understand what to hit in the ship, and we do have the weapons available to make it happen.
HighestGlories: How wonderful this all is.
Aqan01: I don’t understand your meaning, sir.
HighestGlories: When I was young, humanity was so afraid, so small. We’d look at things like these and say they weren’t real, nightmares that crawled out of the brinks of our perverse imaginations to torment us.
Aqan01: They are truly horrible, sir.
HighestGlories: But now, the more we understand, even things as massive as gods begin to lose their previously-untouchable power.
Aqan01: We are becoming like her in a way, sir.
HighestGlories: She was never afraid. Bless her heart. I know she wanted to be. To be like us and share our problems, but she was too vast, too limitless to feel it.
Aqan01: She’s truly blessed you with an undying faith, sir.
HighestGlories: You will believe ever more when you see what I have seen.
Aqan01: I look forward to it, sir.
HighestGlories: Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. You’re one of the few scribes I know will always take the blame when it goes awry. It’s the mark of honesty, a good heart, and someone that truly wants to better the world through responsibility.
Aqan01: Thank you, sir. It means a good deal coming from you.
HighestGlories: Gladly. Is that all the business?
Aqan01: Yes, sir.
HighestGlories: Until next time, then. I’ll be looking forward to a more optimistic report.
Aqan01: You can count on it, sir.
-To Be Continued-
About the Author:
This is Kell Inkston, kiddo. 100% Homegrown Head Analyst.
Kell’s totally into talking to readers.
After all, what else is there to do?
Kell’s not gonna write all day, please.
Kell’s got a job.
And even though that job includes writing all day…
It’s still a hard pass from Kell with that dumb responsibility stuff.
That said, Kell would really like it if you would join its Facebook group.
Lots of cool things happen there.
And no weird, bad things.
None at all.
What’s this group, you ask?
Why, it’s https://www.facebook.com/groups/KellInkston/, you dummy.
Everyone knows that.
…Never mind.
It turns out that not everyone knows that after all.
Kell apologizes for being so presumptuous.
Kell asks for your forgiveness.
Kell Inkston, The Navigator's Throne
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