The More Detestable of Two Worlds
The arid valley resonated with tens of thousands of bellowing, chanting imps. Huge crowds of sniveling goblins had shown up in a grotesque cluster, facing west beyond the shanty towns as they banged their weapons and stomped their feet in raucous celebration. They made the thinnest of pathways for a select group of Green Bandits to shuffle through. The crew from the skiff pushed several carts chock-full of extremely expensive silver from the meeting with Saikano up north. In the center of this group was Jex, hobbling with the aid of a rickety crutch. While the massive populace cheered the exchange that was about to go underway, several hundred of them took a moment to jeer and spit at the dismembered imp, relishing in his humiliation. Jex shuddered, nevertheless stumbling forward as he struggled to keep up with his fellow crew members.
Over a hundred meters to the east, the skiff was parked beside a series of rusted metal towers. Almost every imp in the valley had their eyes pointed west towards the misty edge of an expanse of swamp land. As a result, very few had the opportunity to see a cybernetic pony climbing up one of the towers above and behind them. Roarke pressed her body in tight between the red iron crossbeams. Perched there, she stared out upon the crowded valley, her helmet reflecting the gray sheen of an overcast sky.
Eventually, Jex's group came to a stop. The goblin in question had to lean against a stack of decrepit crates, catching his breath. Suddenly, the crowd quieted down, allowing for the sound of clattering metal limbs to tickle Jex's ears. The imp shuddered, a sharp chill running up and down his spine. With chattering teeth, he looked up in time for his body to be encompassed in a bulbous shadow.
What looked like a polished steel egg on spider limbs strolled up to the scene. The mech suit approached the carts full of silver and lurched to a stop. Seconds later—Schlooomp!—the forward panel slid down, venting steam. Haman's fat, fat torso appeared within. As the steam dissipated, every imp could see the glint across his mucus-laced eyes. He spoke with multiple chins wobbling. “Took you long enough. You didn't shag any of the deer before coming back, hmm?”
The crowd immediately surrounding the scene laughed with grunting, sniveling breaths.
Jex gulped and stared down at the gravely earth.
“They wouldn't let us take it back in the battleship, boss,” the leader of the crew said, bowing his head. “They wanted us to leave the vessel in patrol of Southern Val Roa.”
“Lemme guess...” Haman wheezedly inhaled from a long straw and exhaled steam from his crusty nostrils. His mech suit leaned forward with an audible whirr. “Concerns over this... 'Noble Jury?'” He turned and smirked with three chins at Jex. “And just whose fault is that, I wonder...”
Jex clenched his teeth. Around him, the crowd angrily shouted: “RUNT! RUNT! RUNT! RUNT!”
Haman lifted a metal claw from beneath his chassis. “Now now... give the maggot some credit. He and his remaining limbs have been most faithful to me, even as a lowly steam chugger.” Haman's eyes narrowed as his leafy ears twitched. “With luck, he'll be promoted to the task of sterilizing my suit's fecal tubes.”
Laughter. The valley shook. Jex slumped in his place and said nothing.
“Boss...” The goblin standing before Haman gestured. “Is it true that the last two battleships are complete?”
“Just about. Now for the meaty part.”
“Would you let me do the honor and summon the Lounge?”
“Already done, Bandit.” Haman pivoted about while his mechanical legs lifted the egg-shaped chassis higher. “BEHOLD! GOBLINS OF THE CARTEL!” His suit's speakers crackled to a deafening degree while he gestured towards the cloudy sky. “OUR HOUR OF VICTORY IS NIGH! YOU HAVE SWEATED! YOU HAVE TOILED FOR SILVER! BUT NOW... now...” He bore a grotesque smile. “The skies shall rain fire on the weak, the ignorant, the putrid filth who do not deserve the resources in their hooves. And if it takes a few skin-shedding lizards to get there... then so be it.”
The valley broke out into uproarious applause.
Jex tilted about. He squinted towards one of the towers.
From a distance, Roarke shook a metal-cased limb.
Jex twitched and faced west once more.
Thunder rolled overhead.
Curious, Roarke tilted her head up. Her glossy helmet reflected several dark clouds... clouds that were churning and descending upon Haman's position.
“Hmmmm...” Her muffled voice muttered. “A little dramatic, but I approve...”
“Shnorrrrrrrrr!” Josho's mouth hung open in his fat face.
“... ... ...” Booster Spice glared ahead while gripping Whizzball's constrols. Slowly, he pivoted his head and glanced to his right.
“Grkkk-snkkkkt... Shnorrrrrr!” Josho continued to bellow.
Booster sighed. He glanced to his left.
“Mmmm...” Eagle Eye was curled up against him, his dainty eyelids fluttering. “Mmff... d-don't sweat it, Ebon...” His lavender muzzle curled into a smile. “...I'll scrub the stain out...”
Booster clenched his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and glared ahead harder.
“Shnorrr-rrrrrrrkkkk-skkkt-Shnorrrrr!”
“Wuh oh... you dropped the shampoo, Ebon. Ya silly goose. Heeheehee...”
Booster's teeth were grinding to the point of producing sparks. At last, he jerked a hoof up, grabbed a tiny red lever, and gave it a yank.
WREE-WREE-WREE-WREE! The entire cockpit echoed with a blaring siren, accompanied with flashing lights.
Both Eagle and Josho jerked awake on either side of the pony.
“Duaaaaah!” Josho's eyes rolled around. “Anus!”
“We were j-just getting washed up!” Eagle's voice cracked. “Honest!”
“The Hell...?!” Josho squinted at the flashing lights.
“Ahem...” Booster jerked the lever back, silencing the alarm in a blink. “That's more like it.”
“Augh...” Eagle rubbed his ears, wincing. “It's like someone poured hot lava into my skull!”
“You got a death wish, nerdballs?” Josho grumbled.
“Only if I intend to fly into this by myself,” Booster said.
“Into what?”
The pilot pointed straight forward. “Take a look for yourself.”
“Whoah...” Eagle blinked.
Looming beyond the glossy curved windshield of the Lounge sphere was a fluctuating horizon of bright red sparks. The sky above was a turbulent swirl of tempestuous eddies and anvil clouds. Lightning continuously struck the frosted landscape in angry blue forks, permeating the atmosphere with endless thunder and noise.
“Not exactly a honeymoon getaway,” Josho muttered.
“Is this it?” Eagle flashed Booster a curious look. “Are we at the coordinates?”
“Just about,” Booster said. He adjusted his green goggles with a smirk. “There's still some distance yet to cover.”
“Uhhhhhh...” Josho nervously eyed the rattling console equipment as turbulence picked up all around Whizzball. “Just how much distance?”
Booster sighed. “Pretty dang far.” He glanced aside. “I honestly don't think I can even land this thing once we get to our destination.”
“So... what, then?” Eagle Eye's brow furrowed. “We find a spot, get low, and jump out?”
Booster beamed. “Why, what a great idea!” He winked. “Good thing you two are the most nimble out of Jurists.” He looked ahead. “Aside from Rainbow Dash.” He gulped. “And Roarke...”
“Terrific,” Josho grumbled. “I like finding out how suicidal a mission is at the last second.”
“If something was actually built out here, then that's a good sign,” Booster said.
“How so?” Eagle asked.
“It means someone was somehow capable of landing here and taking off again.” Booster's eyes narrowed. “If they can do it, then so can we.”
“Yeah, but what if that someone is a mutated alicorn with shape-shifting powers?” Eagle muttered.
“Well, that's up to you two to discover, isn't it?”
“Look, less sass and more brass!” Josho remarked. “We'll snoop out what we have to. Just make sure you hang out low enough to pick us up once we're done.”
“You shouldn't have to worry about me,” Booster said. He squirmed. “Unless...”
“Yeah, what?!” Josho glared.
Booster bit his lip. “Well, if any single one of those skystone shards down there was to be energized out of nowhere, it could conceivably cause a cascade that would sweep through the entire plateau and inevitably overload the atmosphere with mana and render all flying equipment useless.”
“Great...” Josho sighed. “I love how you give us the worst case scenario first.”
“Oh, that's not the worst case scenario.”
“Buh?”
“Theoretically, a skystone cascade could magnetize all of the metal in Whizzball, splitting it apart in random directions, consequently shredding all organic life to ribbons within four hundred meters of the resulting shrapnel explosion.”
Eagle Eye shivered. “Why isn't Rainbow Dash doing this mission, again?”
“'Cuz I think she's had enough of friggin' caves in weird places,” Josho muttered. “Assuming it is a cave.”
“I seriously doubt it's a summer home.”
“Are we done with this jocular conversation?” Booster asked.
“Oh, by all means, egghead.” Josho gestured with a hoof. “Bring us all to our graves.”
“I thought you'd never ask.” Booster adjusted his goggles one last time, squinted, and pushed at the controls. “Here we go...”
And the vessel descended swiftly into the turbulent air directly above the jagged landscape, piercing past the last layers of arctic snow.
Above the hundreds and hundreds of goblin heads, the cloudy skies turned cloudier. Thunder broiled, echoing with a deep bass roar across the troposphere.
Roarke glanced left and right, watching with pensive curiosity. At last, she heard a loud gasp rip across the crowd. Her head peered towards the southwest.
Something glossy and black descended through the bottom layer of clouds, and it was then that Roarke realized that the inclement weather had merely been a cover. A veritable pearl of onyx black lowered with inky grace. It wasn't alone. Two more spheres just as large also descended. Soon, all three vessels loomed eerily above Haman and his position.
The windy air crackled from thousands of rifles being cocked and primed.
Haman raised a metal limb from beneath his suit, ordering his lackeys to hold their fire.
Jex couldn't help but tremble, his wide eyes plastered towards the three creepy black marbles looming just above.
A full minute passed. Then a noticeable flicker of amber light shot across the trio of naga vessels. With a hiss of steam, the front of the middle sphere rolled back, revealing two dozen suited figures standing on the exposed platform, glowing rifles at the ready. Slowly, the middle craft lowered until it was within a foot of the gravelly floor of the plateau. One lizard crawled out from the rest, his dark threads shimmering from underneath with eerie yellow light. He leapt off the ship's platform, forward-flipped, and landed nimbly on all fours. Six other figures jumped down beside him, immediately standing up with weapons held at the ready. Slowly, the leader also stood, cracking his joints and tail as amber mist vented out from his suit. He strolled forward on his hindquarters, approaching Haman in the center.
From a distance, Roarke flicked her right forelimb. A conical device protruded from the metal sheathe surrounding her fetlock. Clutching the rusted crossbeams of the tower, she dangled upside down, aiming the device at the meeting from a distance. The inside of her helmet crackled as she picked up the sounds and voices of the ensuing conversation.
Haman grinned at the Lounge's representative. “You reptiles do love to make an entrance.”
Without flinching, the naga's helmeted face stared back up at the obese goblin. “Scrkkk—We are not here for inane prattle, imp. If you have silver, then we have skystone.”
“Most certainly! We are both business men! I have the silver right here—”
“And I have the sky full of spheres.” The naga pointed a clawed finger. “No double-crossing, or by Quezaat's honor, my brothers will turn all of your putrid quarries into one giant crater.”
Jex trembled, glancing Haman's way.
“Honestly, friend...” Haman's chins wobbled as he gestured with a metal hook. “After all the progress we've made, you still do not trust the word of the Cartel?”
“Crkkkk—The Lounge has no business fraternizing with a race of creatures who defecate out both ends.” The naga closed his gloved fist. “Give us the silver already. My ears are poisoned with each second I spend listening to your detestable breathing.”
Haman blinked... then frowned. He took a sip from his straw, breathed smoke between himself and his “guest,” then gestured towards the crew from the skiff.
In swift order, the goblins rolled the carts forward, sitting them before the suited lizards.
The lead naga swept his arm forward. Two associates holstered their rifles, crawled forward on four legs, and perched atop the crates. Reaching into their belt pockets, they produced identical sensors and swept them over each bar of silver. Over the course of the next five minutes, they scanned each and every ounce of metal with utmost scrutiny.
Haman fidgeted impatiently in his mech-suit. Every now and then, he glared the lead naga's way.
The lizard kept his mask trained on the head goblin the entire time. He stood still as a statue, unmoving, unflinching, save for the slowly pulsating glow of yellow light beneath his suit-parts.
Haman sighed, clattering a metal claw or two in an anxious manner.
At long last, the two Lounge associates finished their scanning. They stood up, tails slack, and gestured at their leader.
The naga watched their signals, then gestured. At last, he spun around—his most dramatic movement yet—and aimed what looked like a tiny gun at the two lounge spheres flanking his. Instead of firing anything, it simply fired a tiny beam of light with a melodic beeping noise.
With hisses of steam, the two spheres opened, lowering to the earth. The watching goblins cooed with renewed interest as a distinctly yellow glow shone upon their grimy faces. In swift order, dozens of naga wheeled out six carts containing large chunks of bright amber stone.
“They...” Haman's chubby face grimaced. He stared daggers at the Lounge leader. “They're so small.”
“Scrkkk! They are large enough, goblin,” the naaga said. “Assuming you fitted your rusted behemoths with the engineering specifications that we underlined, then they will efficiently empower your ship to lay waste to whatever you deem less perfect than yourselves.”
“Compacted skystone, I take it...” Haman paced slowly around one of the glowing shards on rattling limbs. “Hmmmm... The possibilities here are certainly... tasty.” He grinned droolingly.
“Relish it however you wish.” The naga gestured towards his compatriots, and they began hoisting the silver into the flanking spheres. “It makes very little difference to the Lounge.” He turned and began walking towards his center vessel.
Haman pivoted to face the retreating lizards. “That's it?” He smirked. “No threats? No overly-glorified speeches about goblin double-crossing?”
The naga leader froze. Slowly, he turned around, his helmet flickering yellow from inside. “Scrkkkt... No...” He slowly shook his head. “No speech. No warning. For it is not necessary.”
“Well, a last-second show of confidence is better than none.”
“Rein in your forked tongue, creature,” the reptile said. “We know that you would have our swamplands rendered to burning sludge. But such will not happen. You will collapse and destroy yourselves before you even set out on this 'glorious revolution' of yours.”
Haman chuckled. “Come now. That's a little near-sighted, don't you think—”
“The Lounge does not forget. Our souls are the stewards of history. Imps crawled out of filth and they will return to it. Your lives burn out like shallow candles, and the same can be said of your toilet civilization. A species that seeks power for all its glory without considering its cost is doomed from the very start. Believe me. The Lounge has had brothers who have suffered the consequences of unchecked ambition, and their legacy is forever a blight upon the glory of Quezaat. I don't care what you intend to do with the skystone. In the end, you'll be nothing but a carbon stain on this blighted world, and we'll be a thousand silver bars richer. The Lounge already knows who the victors are, and history will reflect.”
Haman sat in place, wordless. Only glaring.
The imps shuffled awkwardly in the ensuing silence. Jex had his head bowed the whole time.
At last, with a wave of his gloved hand, the naga leader ascended into his sphere, followed by his lackeys. With mutual hisses of steam, the three vessels sealed shut, then slipped icily into the thunderous clouds. Within a minute, the stormfront rolled back, returning the atmosphere to its dull gray malaise.
Taking a deep breath, Haman swiveled in his chassis and spoke towards his subordinates. “Load the damnable crystals up.”
“Y-yes, boss!”
Haman strolled forward, frowning into the distance. “I'll be taking the Gamma Battleship.” He sneered. “By the end of this week... lots and lots of deer are going to die.” SCHLANKKK! His chassis sealed shut.
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Aw man. I was hoping Roarke would take a shot at the Lounge ships so they would blame the Cartel. That would've been fun to watch.
Wow. The Bad, the Ugly, and the "Holy Shit."
Thirty wide-arm pushups, ):(. Knock 'em out!
At this point I'm really just waiting for this whole thing to fall apart and it to go completely crazy. We are close to a tipping point and we aren't even half way into the book yet.
I've had some bad experiences with sunda driving, but I'm so glad I didn't have any as bad as that.
You know, I know they're big and all, I just can't take the goblin warships seriously with the Tarkington on its way. Or even if it wasn't.
Well, looks like the Lounge learns...not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
Hmm, the Lounge still seem a bit touchy about the whole Razzar incident. I wonder if they're still mad at the Jury.
Also:
I'm just going to pretend quietly to myself that I'm now a battleship.
Why is it that important whether the Whizzball can land? Josho can teleport, right?
Wow, The Lounge are certainly foreboding.
Though to be honest, I chat wait to see the goblins fail spectacularly either by their own hand or Roarke's.
Enjoyable chapter.
5335464 I guess mana interference or some junk.
5335190
i was expecting that, or a sniper round to Haman's head and
*poof*
gone is Roarke
At this point I don't know what to think about Jex anymore. Maybe between "poor guy" and "it was coming to you".
Looks like the Lounge definitely took care with the air con on the ship. Very impressive indeed. As is the Master Alarm. One pity for the location being headed for, Wizball will always remain a shere, unless something very unfortunate with excessive skystone discharge demands otherwise. Then its most definitely going to be, See You Later, Navigator.
Id try and make a horrible tech joke about gamma-butyrate and Rourke giving Haman a bad acid trip by doign something SG with the skystone engine, but I forgot what the details of the compound was.
Shes waiting, shes waiting, shes waiting, like the laser cannon and the spider.
Well, I don't have anything constructive to add right now, except: "yeee-heee-heee! battleships!"
Also, that's definitely not the last we'll be seeing of the Lounge. That message, with how pissed off sounding that guy was...they'll be back.
Wow, Eagle. You've been away from Ebon for... what? A few days or so? And you're already having those kinds of dreams? Ebon had better rest up while he can.
Also, the dramatic, ominous build-up is getting pretty intense. Methinks hell shall be unleashed soon, and it shall be batshit insane.
5335464
5335551
I don't think they wanna risk Josho accidentally charging the Skystone.
5335874 We shouldn't have to speculate about it. It should have been addressed in the chapter.
Ten bits they'll find another Pegasus Sex Crater past all the skystone.
5335881
Wasn't it?
...
Oh it wasn't.
Well, I inferred as much from this part:
5335891 Maybe, maybe they will find a lovely fruit bat colony.
They will bow to their new fruity overlords soon enough.
5335881 The author can address whatever he damn well pleases.
5335932 If he wishes to give the impression Josho and the others have forgotten that the stallion can teleport, he sure can. We could also speculate on what caused this selective loss of memory. Perhaps it will be crucial in the final chapter of the book.
5335693 Pissed off... no. It seemed more Matter-of-fact to me. Like he was speaking from experience, having seen similar things happen. I guess it could be seen as a half assed warning, but it didn't seem like a threat.
Well not to me anyway.
5335893
I'm inclined to agree. Though that would depend on if teleporting would give off enough residual mana to actually energize the skystone enough.
5335932 And we can criticize whatever he chooses not to address. Don't be hostile.
5336013
Doesn't even seem like a warning to me. More a "you will fail, and I will sit here being all like I told you so you idiot".
Side note
They at least learned from Razzar's mistake. Or at least recognize his stupidity.
5336013
And in how much energy is needed to start a chain reaction.
I have a feeling I know who he's talking about...
5336369
If my calculations are correct (and they always are) that amount of energy is roughly... lets see, carry the one, account for this
1.21 Jigawatts
5336762
Great Scott...
Tis' a good thing that lighting bolts can be created at will, then.
This big thing is about to happen in one day, and we are not even halfway through the story.
Watch 'em run amuck,
Catch 'em as they fall,
Never know your luck
When there's a free for all,
Here a little `dip'
There a little `touch'
Most of them are goners
So they won't miss much!
There's your chance, girl.
Jabba The Hutt is the epitome of sophistication compared to Haman.
Go away, Josho. We already have too much fat and chins in this chapter.
Don't use that word near Rainbow Dash.
The Lounge are cool. I hope we see them more.
5335446 HA!
I wonder if the Lounge knew Roarke was there...
Am I the only one who visualized the camera panning and an eagle screech when Roarke was climbing up the tower?
Ouch, Haman got quiet the burn, in front of all his people too. Hope it gives some goblin the confidence to light him up, all that fat will burn nicely.
Such is the fall of tyrants.
5335891
dunno about you but I've got my fingers crossed for a batpone version on the dark side of the world
5338748
>batpone
>sex
>crater
>
does roarke have a snipin rifle
Interesting statement, lizardman.
Being many days behind, I usually wait until the new chapters to comment, but...
Damn, that speech was nice. "Shallow candle"? "Toilet civilization"? Excellent imagery.
5338748 Did someone say "
BestBat Pone"?Only up to chapter 78...
5335321
Terrifying. They are definitely on their own side. And they're in Val Roa. Still hunting changelings.
5336661
You do.
Who wants to bet on whether or not the midnight armory is inside a cave?
The Lounge know what they're talking about.
-Spirit
The Lounge are as nice as usual. I wonder if anything has changed since the last time we saw them. I caught a possible mention of what happened to Razzar, but I can't me too sure.
5911301 Well either earlier in this story or near the end of the last one it came up that Razzars Group was a splinter group that had broken off and abused it's power and technology for power and profit. and the survivors for that group mentioned returning to what they were meant to do which implies they returned home so it's very plausible they know what happened to him.
Jex knows that the lounge is right. He's experienced it first hand, and roarke has... Opened his eyes just a bit further, and now he can no longer pretend to be blind to the way his race is caving in on itself.
I thought that only Pegasi could manipulate the weather. So how did the Lounge manipulate those clouds for that show?
Each faction thinks it will come out on top. Only time and the jury will decide.
6260755
You'd be amazed what you can do with fans and electromagnets.
Hmmmmmmmm. Prowse did mention they'd picked up some more reinforcements Rainbow would be glad to see.
... or it's just those annoying lizards again.
So that's why they have that lever.
As far as insults go, this was a very good one.
07/12/2017
17:08 UTC