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lost story for /u/neolordie

thank you! this helps... seriously! it gives me some hope and feedback that i'm not completely nuts (if i'm asking the question, i'm probably safe... probably :), plus there's the off and odd chances that run wild sometimes.
i'm enjoying writing today, so please forgive me my liberties as i start to tell a story. some of it you inspired! i'm not done with it, but i enjoy it, and the act of writing is the ends and the means; this story is coming into existence because i am enjoying my play...
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// current tail. betwixt here and the footnotes seperator, there be unfinshed dragons. and that you heard the elevator version of that pitch waaay back, 5, maybe 6 years ago, before she was a notable cto giving a keynote address to a large and prestigious* ) vr gametech conference this one. ke back when there were 2 founders and a part time employee with a mohawk and studs in his head
run in to someone at a conference in a little out of the way bar where it's just a bit quieter and you can hear yourself think
 
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submitted by krista to lostcomments [link] [comments]

Angélica Gorodischer - Three Stories [Translated by Lorraine Elena Roses and Marian Womack]

The Resurrection of the Flesh [Tr by Roses]

These first two tales published in Secret Weavers: Stories of the Fantastic by Women Writers of Argentina and Chile, edited by Marjorie Agosin (White Pine Press, 1992):
She was thirty-two, her name was Aurelia, and she had been married eleven years. One Saturday afternoon, she looked through the kitchen window at the garden and saw the four horsemen of the Apocalypse. Men of the world, those four horsemen of the Apocalypse. And good-looking. The first from the left was riding a sorrel horse with a dark mane. He was wearing white breeches, black boots, a crimson jacket, and a yellow fez with black pompoms. The second one had a sleeveless tunic overlaid with gold and violet and was barefoot. He was riding on the back of a plump dolphin. The third one had a respectable, black beard, trimmed at right angles. He had donned a gray Prince of Wales suit, white shirt, blue tie and carried a black leather portfolio. He was seated on a folding chair belted to the back of white-haired dromedary. The fourth one made Aurelia smile and realize that they were smiling at her. He was riding a black and gold Harley-Davidson 1200 and was wearing a white helmet and dark goggles and had long, straight, blond hair flying in the wind behind him. The four were riding in the garden without moving from the spot. They rode and smiled at her and she watched them through the kitchen window.
In that manner, she finished washing the two teacups, took off her apron, arranged her hair and went to the living room.
"I saw the four horsemen of the Apocalypse in the garden," she told her husband.
"I'll bet," he said without raising his eyes from his paper.
"What are you reading?" Aurelia asked.
"Hmmm?"
"I said they were given a crown and a sword and a balance and power."
"Oh, right," said her husband.
And after that a week went by as all weeks do--very slowly at first and very quickly toward the end--and on Sunday morning, while she made the coffee, she again saw the four horsemen of the Apocalypse in the garden, but when she went back to the bedroom she didn't say anything to her husband.
The third time she saw them, one Wednesday, alone, in the afternoon, she stood looking at them for a half hour and finally, since she had always wanted to fly in a yellow and red dirigible; and since she had dreamed about being an opera singer, an emperor's lover, a co-pilot to Icarus; since she would have liked to scale black cliffs, laugh at cannibals, traverse the jungles on elephants with purple trappings, seize with her hands the diamonds that lay hidden in mines, preside in the nude over a parade of nocturnal monsters, live under water, domesticate spiders, torture the powerful of the earth, rob trains in the tunnels of the Alps, set palaces on fire, lie in the dark with beggars, climb on the bridges of all the ships in the world; finally--since it was sadly sterile to be a rational and healthy adult--finally, that Wednesday afternoon alone, she put on the long dress she had worn at the last New Year's party given by the company where her husband was assistant sales manager and went out to the garden. The four horsemen of the Apocalypse called her, the blond one on the Harley-Davidson gave her his hand and helped her up onto the seat behind him, and there they went, all five, raging into the storm and singing.
Two days later her husband gave in to family pressure and reported the disappearance of his wife.
"Moral: madness is a flower aflame," said the narrator. Or in other words, it's impossible to inflame the dead, cold, viscous, useless, and sinful ashes of common sense.

The Perfect Married Woman

If you meet her on the street, cross quickly to the other side and quicken your pace. She’s a dangerous lady. She’s about forty or forty-five, has one married daughter and a son working in San Nicolas; her husband’s a sheet-metal worker. She rises very early, sweeps the sidewalk, sees her husband off, cleans, does the wash, shops, cooks. After lunch she watches television, sews or knits, irons twice a week, and at night goes to bed late. On Saturdays she does a general cleaning and washes windows and waxes the floors. On Sunday mornings she washes the clothes her son brings home—his name is Nestor Eduardo—she kneads dough for noodles or ravioli, and in the afternoon either her sister-inlaw comes to visit or she goes to her daughter’s house. It’s been a long time since she’s been to the movies, but she reads TV Guide and the police report in the newspaper. Her eyes are dark and her hands are rough and her hair is starting to go gray. She catches cold frequently and keeps a photo album in a dresser drawer along with a black crepe dress with lace collar and cuffs.
Her mother never hit her. But when she was six, she got a spanking for coloring on a door, and she had to wash it off with a wet rag. While she was doing it, she thought about doors, all doors, and decided that they were very dumb because they always led to the same places. And the one she was cleaning was definitely the dumbest of all, the one that led to her parents’ bedroom. She opened the door and then it didn’t go to her parents’ bedroom but to the Gobi desert. She wasn’t surprised that she knew it was the Gobi desert even though they hadn’t even taught her in school where Mongolia was and neither she nor her mother nor her grandmother had ever heard of Nan Shan or Khangai Nuru.
She stepped through the door, bent over to scratch the yellowish grit and saw that there was no one, nothing, and the hot wind tousled her hair, so she went back through the open door, closed it and kept on cleaning. And when she finished, her mother grumbled a little more and told her to wash the rag and take the broom to sweep up that sand and clean her shoes. That day she modified her hasty judgment about doors, though not completely, at least not until she understood what was going on.
What had been going on all her life and up until today was that from time to time doors behaved satisfactorily, though in general they were still acting dumb and leading to dining rooms, kitchens, laundry rooms, bedrooms and offices even in the best of circumstances. But two months after the desert, for example, the door that every day led to the bath opened onto the workshop of a bearded man dressed in a long uniform, pointed shoes, and a cap that tilted on one side of his head. The old man’s back was turned as he took something out of a highboy with many small drawers behind a very strange, large wooden machine with a giant steering wheel and screw, in the midst of cold air and an acrid smell. When he turned around and saw her he began to shout at her in a language she didn’t understand.
She stuck out her tongue, dashed out the door, closed it, opened it again, went into the bathroom and washed her hands for lunch.
Again, after lunch, many years later, she opened the door of her room and walked into a battlefield. She dipped her hands in the blood of the wounded and dead and pulled from the neck of a cadaver a crucifix that she wore for a long time under high-necked blouses or dresses without plunging necklines. She now keeps it in a tin box underneath the nightgowns with a brooch, a pair of earrings and a broken wristwatch that used to belong to her mother-in-law. In the same way, involuntarily and by chance, she visited three monasteries, seven libraries, and the highest mountains in the world, and who knows how many theaters, cathedrals, jungles, refrigeration plants, dens of vice, universities, brothels, forests, stores, submarines, hotels, trenches, islands, factories, palaces, hovels, towers and hell.
She’s lost count and doesn’t care; any door could lead anywhere and that has the same value as the thickness of the ravioli dough, her mother’s death, and the life crises that she sees on TV and reads about in TV Guide.
Not long ago she took her daughter to the doctor, and seeing the closed door of a bathroom in the clinic, she smiled. She wasn’t sure because she can never be sure, but she got up and went to the bathroom. However, it was a bathroom; at least there was a nude man in a bathtub full of water. It was all very large, with a high ceiling, marble floor and decorations hanging from the closed windows. The man seemed to be asleep in his white bathtub, short but deep, and she saw a razor on a wrought iron table with feet decorated with iron flowers and leaves and ending in lion’s paws, a razor, a mirror, a curling iron, towels, a box of talcum powder and an earthen bowl with water. She approached on tiptoe, retrieved the razor, tiptoed over to the sleeping man in the tub and beheaded him. She threw the razor on the floor and rinsed her hands in the lukewarm bathtub water. She turned around when she reached the clinic corridor and spied a girl going into the bathroom through the other door. Her daughter looked at her.
“That was quick.”
“The toilet was broken,” she answered.
A few days afterward, she beheaded another man in a blue tent at night. That man and a woman were sleeping mostly uncovered by the blankets of a low, king-size bed, and the wind beat around the tent and slanted the flames of the oil lamps. Beyond it there would be another camp, soldiers, animals, sweat, manure, orders and weapons. But inside there was a sword by the leather and metal uniforms, and with it she cut off the head of the bearded man. The woman stirred and opened her eyes as she went out the door on her way back to the patio that she had been mopping.
On Monday and Thursday afternoons, when she irons shirt collars, she thinks of the slit necks and the blood, and she waits. If it’s summer she goes out to sweep a little after putting away the clothing and until her husband arrives. If it’s windy she sits in the kitchen and knits. But she doesn’t always find sleeping men or staring cadavers. One rainy morning, when she was twenty, she was at a prison, and she made fun of the chained prisoners; one night when the kids were kids and were all living at home, she saw in a square a disheveled woman looking at a gun but not daring to take it out of her open purse. She walked up to her, put the gun in the woman’s hand and stayed there until a car parked at the corner, until the woman saw a man in gray get out and look for his keys in his pocket, until the woman aimed and fired. And another night while she was doing her sixth grade geography homework, she went to look for crayons in her room and stood next to a man who was crying on a balcony. The balcony was so high, so far above the street, that she had an urge to push him to hear the thud down below, but she remembered the orographic map of South America and was about to leave. Anyhow, since the man hadn’t seen her, she did push him and saw him disappear and ran to color in the map so she didn’t hear the thud, only the scream. And in an empty theater, she made a fire underneath the velvet curtain; in a riot she opened the cover to a basement hatchway; in a house, sitting on top of a desk, she shredded a two-thousand-page manuscript; in a clearing of a forest she buried the weapons of the sleeping men; in a river she opened the floodgates of a dike.
Her daughter’s name is Laura Inés, her son has a fiancée in San Nicolás and he’s promised to bring her over on Sunday so she and her husband can meet her. She has to remind herself to ask her sister-in-law for the recipe for orange cake, and Friday on TV is the first episode of a new soap opera. Again, she runs the iron over the front of the shirt and remembers the other side of the doors that are always carefully closed in her house, that other side where the things that happen are much less abominable than the ones we experience on this side, as you can easily understand.

The Unmistakable Smell of Wood Violets [Tr by Womack]

Translated for the first time in Ann and Jeff Vandermeer's Big Book of Science Fiction (Vintage, 2016):
The news spread fast. It would be correct to say that the news moved like a flaming trail of gunpowder, if it weren't for the fact that at this point in our civilization gunpowder was archaeology, ashes in time, the stuff of legend, nothingness. However, it was because of the magic of our new civilization that the news was known all over the world, practically instantaneously.
"Oooh!" the tsarina said.
You have to take into account that Her Gracious and Most Illustrious Virgin Majesty Ekaterina V, Empress of Holy Russia, had been carefully educated in the proper decorum befitting the throne, which meant that she would never have even raised an eyebrow or curved the corner of her lip, far less would she have made an interjection of that rude and vulgar kind. But not only did she say "Oooh!," she also got up and walked through the room until she reached the glass doors of the great balcony. She stopped there. Down below, covered by snow, Saint Leninburg was indifferent and unchanged, the city's eyes squinting under the weight of winter. At the palace, ministers and advisers were excited, on edge.
"And where is this place?" the tsarina asked.
And that is what happened in Russia, which is such a distant and atypical country. In the central states of the continent, there was real commotion. In Bolivia, in Paraguay, in Madagascar, in all the great powers, and in the countries that aspired to be great powers, such as High Peru, Iceland, or Morocco, hasty conversations took place at the highest possible level with knitted brows and hired experts. The strongest currencies became unstable: the guarani rose, the Bolivian peso went down half a point, the crown was discreetly removed from the exchange rates for two long hours, long queues formed in front of the exchanges in front of all the great capitals of the world. President Morillo spoke from the Oruro Palace and used the opportunity to make a concealed warning (some would call it a threat) to the two Peruvian republics and the Minas Gerais secessionist area. Morillo had handed over the presidency of Minas to his nephew, Pepe Morillo, who had proved to be a wet blanket whom everybody could manipulate, and now Morillo bitterly regretted his decision. Morocco and Iceland did little more than give their diplomats a gentle nudge in the ribs, anything to shake them into action, as they imagined them all to be sipping grenadine and mango juice in the deep south while servants in shiny black uniforms stood over them with fans.
The picturesque note came from the Independent States of North America. It could not have been otherwise. Nobody knew that all the states were now once again under the control of a single president, but that's how it was: some guy called Jack Jackson-Franklin, who had been a bit-part actor in videos, and who, aged eighty-seven, had discovered his extremely patriotic vocation of statesman. Aided by his singular and inexplicable charisma, and by his suspect family tree, according to which he was the descendent of two presidents who had ruled over the states during their glory days, he had managed to unify, at least for now, the seventy-nine northern states. Anyway, Mr. Jackson-Franklin said to the world that the Independent States would not permit such a thing to take place. No more, just that they would not permit such a thing to take place. The world laughed uproariously at this.
Over there, in the Saint Leninburg palace, ministers cleared their throats, advisers swallowed saliva, trying to find out if, by bobbing their Adam's apples up and down enough, they might be able to loosen their stiff official shirts.
"Ahem. Ahem. It's in the south. A long way to the south. In the west, Your Majesty."
"It is. Humph. Ahem. It is, Your Majesty, a tiny country in a tiny territory."
"It says that it is in Argentina," the tsarina said, still staring through the window but without paying any attention to the night as it fell over the snow-covered roofs and the frozen shores of the Baltic.
"Ah, yes, that's right, that's right, Your Majesty, a pocket republic."
Sergei Vasilievich Kustkarov, some kind of councilor and, what is more, an educated and sensible man, broke into the conversation.
"Several, Your Majesty, it is several."
And at last the tsarina turned around. Who cared a fig for the Baltic night, the snow-covered rooftops, the roofs themselves, and the city of which they were a part? Heavy silk crackled, starched petticoats, lace.
"Several of what, Councilor Kustkarov, several of what? Don't come to me with your ambiguities."
"I must say, Your Majesty, I had not the slightest intention--"
"Several of what?"
The tsarina looked directly at him, her lips held tightly together, her hands moving unceasingly, and Kustkarov panicked, as well he might.
"Rep-rep-republics, Your Majesty," he blurted out. "Several of them. Apparently, a long time ago, a very long time, it used to be a single territory, and now it is several, several republics, but their inhabitants, the people who live in all of them, all of the republics, are called, they call themselves, the people, that is, Argentinians."
The tsarina turned her gaze away. Kustkarov felt so relieved that he was encouraged to carry on speaking:
"There are seven of them, Your Majesty: Rosario, Entre dos Rios, Ladocta, Ona, Riachuelo, Yujujuy, and Labodegga."
The tsarina sat down.
"We must do something," she said.
Silence. Outside it was not snowing, but inside it appeared to be. The tsarina looked at the transport minister.
"This enters into your portfolio," she said.
Kustkarov sat down, magnificently. How lucky he was to be a councilor, a councilor with no specific duties. The transport minister, on the other hand, turned pale.
"I think, Your Majesty...," he dared to say.
"Don't think! Do something!"
"Yes, Your Majesty," the minister said, and, bowing, started to make his way to the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" the tsarina said, without moving her mouth or twitching an eyelid.
"I'm just, I'm going, I'm just going to see what can be done, Your Majesty."
There's nothing that can be done, Sergei Vasilievich thought in delight, nothing. He realized that he was not upset, but instead he felt happy. And on top of everything else a woman, he thought. Kustkarov was married to Irina Waldoska-Urtiansk, a real beauty, perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of Holy Russia. Perhaps he was being cuckolded; it would have been all too easy for him to find that out, but he did not want to. His thoughts turned in a circle: and on top of everything else a woman. He looked at the tsarina and was struck, not for the first time, by her beauty. She was not so beautiful as Irina, but she was magnificent.
In Rosario it was not snowing, not because it was summer, although it was, but because it never snowed in Rosario. And there weren't any palm trees: the Moroccans would have been extremely disappointed had they known, but their diplomats said nothing about the Rosario flora in their reports, partly because the flora of Rosario was now practically nonexistent, and partly because diplomats are supposed to be above that kind of thing.
Everyone who was not a diplomat, that is to say, everyone, the population of the entire republic that in the last ten years had multiplied vertiginously and had now reached almost two hundred thousand souls, was euphoric, happy, triumphant. They surrounded her house, watched over her as she slept, left expensive imported fruits outside her door, followed her down the street. Some potentate allowed her the use of a Ford 99, which was one of the five cars in the whole country, and a madman who lived in the Espinillos cemetery hauled water all the way up from the Pará lagoon and grew a flower for her which he then gave her.
"How nice," she said, then went on, dreamily, "Will there be flowers where I'm going?"
They assured her that there would be.
She trained every day. As they did not know exactly what it was she had to do to train herself, she got up at dawn, ran around the Independence crater, skipped, did some gymnastic exercises, ate little, learned how to hold her breath, and spent hours and hours sitting or curled into strange positions. She also danced the waltz. She was almost positive that the waltz was not likely to come in handy, but she enjoyed it very much.
Meanwhile, farther away, the trail of gunpowder had become a barrel of dynamite, although dynamite was also a legendary substance and didn't exist. The infoscreens in every country, whether poor or rich, central or peripheral, developed or not, blazed forth with extremely large headlines suggesting dates, inventing biographical details, trying to hide, without much success, their envy and confusion. No one was fooled:
"We have been wretchedly beaten," the citizens of Bolivia said.
"Who would have thought it," pondered the man on the Reykjavík omnibus.
The former transport minister of Holy Russia was off breaking stones in Siberia. Councilor Sergei Vasilievich Kustkarov was sleeping with the tsarina, but that was only a piece of low, yet spicy, gossip that has nothing to do with this story.
"We will not allow this to happen!" Mr. Jackson-Franklin blustered, tugging nervously at his hairpiece. "It is our own glorious history that has set aside for us this brilliant destiny! It is we, we and not this despicable banana republic, who are marked for this glory!"
Mr. Jackson-Franklin also did not know that there were no palm trees or bananas in Rosario, but this was due not to a lack of reports from his diplomats but rather a lack of diplomats. Diplomats are a luxury that a poor country cannot afford, and so poor countries often go to great pains to take offense and recall all the knights commanders and lawyers and doctors and even eventually the generals working overseas, in order to save money on rent and electricity and gas and salaries, not to mention the cost of the banquets and all the money in brown paper envelopes.
But the headlines kept on appearing on the infoscreens: "Argentinian Astronaut Claims She Will Reach Edge of Universe," "Sources Claim Ship Is Spaceworthy in Spite of or Because of Centuries-Long Interment," "Science or Catastrophe?," "Astronaut Not a Woman but a Transsexual" (this in the Imperialskaya Gazeta, the most puritan of the infoscreens, even more so than the Papal Piccolo Osservatore Lombardo), "Ship Launches," "First Intergalactic Journey in Centuries," "We Will Not Allow This to Happen!" (Portland Times).
She was dancing the waltz. She woke up with her heart thumping, tried out various practical hairstyles, ran, skipped, drank only filtered water, ate only olives, avoided spies and journalists, went to see the ship every day, just to touch it. The mechanics all adored her.
"It'll work, they'll see, it'll work," the chief engineer said defiantly.
Nobody contradicted him. No one dared say that it wouldn't.
It would make it, of course it would make it. Not without going through many incredible adventures on its lengthy journey. Lengthy? No one knew who Langevin was anymore, so no one was shocked to discover that his theory contradicted itself, ended up biting its own tail, and that however long the journey took, the observers would only perceive it as having lasted minutes. Someone called Cervantes, a very famous personage back in the early years of human civilization--it was still debated whether he had been a physicist, a poet, or a musician--had suggested a similar theory in one of his lost works.
One autumn dawn the ship took off from the Independence crater, the most deserted part of the whole desert republic of Rosario, at five forty-five in the morning. The exact time is recorded because the inhabitants of the country had all pitched in together to buy a clock, which they thought the occasion deserved (there was one other clock, in the Enclosed Convent of the Servants of Santa Rita de Casino, but because the convent was home to an enclosed order nothing ever went in or out of it, no news, no requests, no answers, no nothing). Unfortunately, they had not had enough money. But then someone had had the brilliant idea which had brought in the money they needed, and Rosario had hired out its army for parades in friendly countries: there weren't that many of them and the ones there were weren't very rich, but they managed to get the cash together. Anyone who was inspired by patriotism and by the proximity of glory had to see those dashing officers, those disciplined soldiers dressed in gold and crimson, protected by shining breastplates, capped off with plumed helmets, their catapults and pouches of stones at their waists, goose-stepping through the capital of Entre Dos Rios or the Padrone Giol vineyards in Labodegga, at the foot of the majestic Andes.
The ship blasted off. It got lost against the sky. Before the inhabitants of Rosario, their hearts in their throats and their eyes clouded by emotion, had time to catch their breath, a little dot appeared up there, getting bigger and bigger, and it was the ship coming back down. It landed at 06:11 on the same morning of that same autumn day. The clock that recorded this is preserved in the Rosario Historical Museum. It no longer works, but anyone can go and see it in its display cabinet in Room A of the Museum. In Room B, in another display case, is the so-called Carballensis Indentic Axe, the fatal tool that cut down all the vegetation of Rosario and turned the whole country into a featureless plain. Good and evil, side by side, shoulder to shoulder.
Twenty-six minutes on Earth, many years on board the ship. Obviously, she did not have a watch or a calendar with her: the republic of Rosario would not have been able to afford either of them. But it was many years, she knew that much.
Leaving the galaxy was a piece of cake. You can do it in a couple of jumps, everyone knows that, following the instructions that Albert Einsteinstein, the multifaceted violin virtuoso, director of sci-fi movies, and student of space-time, gave us a few hundred years back. But the ship did not set sail to the very center of the universe, as its predecessors had done in the great era of colonization and discovery; no, the ship went right to the edge of the universe.
Everyone also knows that there is nothing in the universe, not even the universe itself, which does not grow weaker as you reach its edge. From pancakes to arteries, via love, rubbers, photographs, revenge, bridal gowns, and power. Everything tends to imperceptible changes at the beginning, rapid change afterward; everything at the edge is softer and more blurred, as the threads start to fray from the center to the outskirts.
In the time it took her to take a couple of breaths, a breath and a half, over the course of many years, she passed through habitable and uninhabitable places, worlds which had once been classified as existent, worlds which did not appear and had never appeared and probably would never appear in any cartographical survey. Planets of exiles, singing sands, minutes and seconds in tatters, whirlpools of nothingness, space junk, and that's without even mentioning those beings and things, all of which stood completely outside any possibility of description, so much so that we tend not to perceive them when we look at them; all of this, and shock, and fear more than anything else, and loneliness. The hair grew gray at her temples, her flesh lost its firmness, wrinkles appeared around her eyes and her mouth, her knees and ankles started to act up, she slept less than before and had to half close her eyes and lean backward in order to make out the numbers on the consoles. And she was so tired that it was almost unbearable. She did not waltz any longer: she put an old tape into an old machine and listened and moved her gray head in time with the orchestra.
She reached the edge of the universe. Here was where everything came to an end, so completely that even her tiredness disappeared and she felt once again as full of enthusiasm as she had when she was younger. There were hints, of course: salt storms, apparitions, little brushstrokes of white against the black of space, large gaps made of sound, echoes of long-dead voices that had died giving sinister orders, ash, drums; but when she reached the edge itself, these indications gave way to space signage: "End," "You Are Reaching the Universe Limits," "The Cosmos General Insurance Company, YOUR Company, Says: GO NO FURTHER," "End of Protected Cosmonaut Space," etc., as well as the scarlet polygon that the OMUU had adopted to use as a sign for that's it, abandon all hope, the end.
All right, so she was here. The next thing to do was go back. But the idea of going back never occurred to her. Women are capricious creatures, just like little boys: as soon as they get what they want, then they want something else. She carried on.
There was a violent judder as she crossed the limit. Then there was silence, peace, calm. All very alarming, to tell the truth. The needles did not move, the lights did not flash, the ventilation system did not hiss, her alveoli did not vibrate, her chair did not swivel, the screens were blank. She got up, went to the portholes, looked out, saw nothing. It was logical enough:
"Of course," she said to herself, "when the universe comes to an end, then there's nothing."
She looked out through the portholes a little more, just in case. She still could see nothing, but she had an idea.
"But I'm here," she said. "Me and the ship."
She put on a space suit and walked out into the nothing.
When the ship landed in the Independence crater in the republic of Rosario, twenty-six minutes after it had taken off, when the hatch opened and she appeared on the ramp, the spirit of Paul Langevin flew over the crater, laughing fit to burst. The only people who heard him were the madman who had grown the flower for her in the Espinillos cemetery and a woman who was to die that day. No one else had ears or fingers or tongue or feet, far less did they have eyes to see him.
It was the same woman who had left, the very same, and this calmed the crowds down at the same time as it disappointed them, all the inhabitants of the country, the diplomats, the spies, and the journalists. It was only when she came down the gangplank and they came closer to her that they saw the network of fine wrinkles around her eyes. All other signs of her old age had vanished, and had she wished, she could have waltzed tirelessly, for days and nights on end, from dusk till dawn till dusk.
The journalists all leaned forward; the diplomats made signals, which they thought were subtle and unseen, to the bearers of their sedan chairs to be ready to take them back to their residences as soon as they had heard what she had to say; the spies took photographs with the little cameras hidden away in their shirt buttons or their wisdom teeth; all the old people put their hands together; the men raised their fists to their heart; the little boys pranced; the young girls smiled.
And then she told them what she had seen:
"I took off my suit and my helmet," she said, "and walked along the invisible avenues that smelled of violets."
She did not know that the whole world was waiting to hear what she said; that Ekaterina V had made Sergei Vasilievich get up at five o'clock in the morning so that he could accompany her to the grand salon and wait there for the news; that one of the seventy-nine Northern States had declared its independence because the president had not stopped anything from happening or obtained any glory, and this had lit the spark of rebellion in the other seventy-eight states, and this had made Mr. Jackson-Franklin leave the White House without his wig, in pajamas, freezing and furious; that Bolivia, Paraguay, and Iceland had allowed the two Peruvian republics to join their new alliance and defense treaty set up against a possible attack from space; that the high command of the Paraguayan aeronautical engineers had promised to build a ship that could travel beyond the limits of the universe, always assuming that they could be granted legal immunity and a higher budget, a declaration that made the guarani fall back the two points that it had recently risen and then another one as well; that Don Schicchino Giol, the new padrone of the Republic of Labodegga at the foot of the majestic Andes had been woken from his most recent drinking bout to be told that he had now to sign a declaration of war against the Republic of Rosario, now that they knew the strength of the enemy's forces.
"Eh? What? Hunh?" Don Schicchino said.
"I saw the nothingness of everything," she said, "and it was all infused with the unmistakable smell of wood violets. The nothingness of the world is like the inside of a stomach throbbing above your head. The nothingness of people is like the back of a painting, black, with glasses and wires that release dreams of order and imperfect destinies. The nothingness of creatures with leathery wings is a crack in the air and the rustle of tiny feet. The nothingness of history is the massacre of the innocents. The nothingness of words, which is a throat and a hand that break whatever they touch on perforated paper; the nothingness of music, which is music. The nothingness of precincts, of crystal glasses, of seams, of hair, of liquids, of lights, of keys, of food."
When she had finished her list, the potentate who owned the Ford 99 said that he would give it to her, and that in the afternoon he would send one of his servants with a liter of naphtha so that she could take the car out for a spin.
"Thank you," she said. "You are very generous."
The madman went away, looking up to the skies; who knows what he was searching for. The woman who was going to die that day asked herself what she should eat on Sunday, when her sons and their wives came to lunch. The president of the Republic of Rosario gave a speech.
And everything in the world carried on the same, apart from the fact that Ekaterina V named Kustkarov her interior minister, which terrified the poor man but which was welcomed with open arms by Irina as an opportunity for her to refresh her wardrobe and her stock of lovers. And Jack Jackson-Franklin sold his memoirs to one of Paraguay's more sophisticated magazines for a stellar amount of money, which allowed him to retire to live in Imerina. And six spaceships from six major world powers set off to the edges of the universe and were never seen again.
She married a good man who had a house with a balcony, a white bicycle, and a radio which, on clear days, could pick up the radio plays that LLL1 Radio Magnum transmitted from Entre Dos Rios, and she waltzed in white satin shoes. The day that her first son was born a very pale green shoot grew out of the ground on the banks of the great lagoon.
submitted by MilkbottleF to shortstoryaday [link] [comments]

Mara Jade - Assassin and Slave

Intro: Mara's Submission
Mara's Recap
Mara's POV
It was fourteen months after the Hutts came into power, and she didn't like the new galactic order one bit. She didn't care what the polls said, Hutt rule would destroy the galaxy. Mara had dealt with Jabba during his previous dealings with the Empire. She had been the one to pay him one billion credits in exchange for rebel base and fleet locations as well as access to Jabba's hyperspace routes. {C During this time, she had watched the capture and enslavement of Princess Leia Organa with glee. She had thought the bitch would get what she deserved and suffer terribly while in the Hutt's grasp. The next time she had met with Jabba to deliver Mon Mothma for him to execute, quietly, she had found Leia still bound to the Hutt. Strangely, she hadn't seemed miserable. Leia had sat by Jabba's side obediently wearing almost nothing, covered with tattoos that mark her as Jabba's favorite, and seemed very happy. Mara had deduced that Leia had been broken easily and was still depressed on the inside.
While talking with Jabba, she had thought she had seen a look of lust in his eyes while he looked at her, but had believed she was just imagining things. She had been wrong. A year after Jabba accepted the deal from the Empire, he had betrayed them. Declaring war, he ordered a swift and decisive invasion. Amazingly, within a month the once invincible Empire had been brought to it's knees. Jabba now ruled from Coruscant. Mara had gone on the run after the emperor was killed, but had been captured three months ago by bounty hunters and brought to Jabba. To her surprise, she wasn't imprisoned or killed for being a prominent member of the former empire, but had been added to Jabba's slave harem.
Mara had been horrified to discover that Leia now was queen of the harem. Leia claimed Jabba treated them well and they all were very happy here. Mara didn't buy it. For three months, Mara had resisted. She obeyed no orders. She simply sat in the harem in one of her incredibly revealing costumes; a tight black netting that 'covered' her assets, a red golden arm bracelet, and somehow everlasting make-up. Mara was not practicing, not dancing, and not pleasing. Jabba did not have her executed or even punished, but he had told Amanda, the harem mistress, to have her 'tamed' five days from now, before the next Hutt Council meeting.
Amanda had taken to spending long nights with Mara in an attempt to break her. Mara refused. She had told Amanda that she had special abilities and might be able to set them all free. Amanda had replied that Jabba was inescapable and that she would rather die than leave his service. Stupid brainwashed girl. Mara didn't buy this immortality or unbreakable collar crap. Sooner or later, she would get out of here.
"Mara, soon you will put aside this rebelliousness of yours and serve The High Exalted One. Trust me, he encourages your spirit, but you must put aside your pride and recognize him as the god he is," Amanda was saying. "Never, I will not obey him!" Mara yelled. Amanda sighed. This would take a while.
A Change in Plans
Leia's POV
Across the palace, Leia was currently relaxing with her master. After sharing some Huttese wine with him, he lowered his hookah to her mouth. "Oh, thank you master!" Leia squealed, eagerly taking a hit. She fell back against him laughing uncontrollably as her high spread through her. "Are you enjoying yourself, my pet?" her master asked her. Leia smiled. "Yes master," she replied. And she was. This was what she lived for.
Fun, pleasure, and pleasing her master. That was her life. She reflected back to a time she barely remembered. At various periods in her life, she had been a princess, senator, and famous Rebel Alliance leader. None of it had mattered. Her life had only gained meaning when her master's gaze had signaled her out, when he had ordered her brought to him. Foolishly, she had scoffed at him, claiming he would regret enslaving her. He didn't, and neither did she.
He continued to enslave new, lucky girls, and Leia and her best friend Amanda had tamed them most of them easily. The harem now numbered two dozen human and twi’lek slave girls. Leia made twenty five. Only one girl still resisted. Her beauty more than equaled that of the other slaves, was on par with Amanda's, and was only clearly surpassed by Leia's. But she was a problem. Three months, and she still resisted. Jabba wanted her ready in five days, and poor Amanda had been forced to stay up late for two weeks now, trying to teach Mara her place. So far, Amanda had reported little progress.
Suddenly, Jabba tugged her leash. Shaking off her high, Leia knelt before her master. "What do you wish of your pet, high exalted one?" Leia asked. Jabba rubbed her shoulder. "Now you will pleasure me, for we shall not spend the night together," Jabba said. Leia was stunned. "What do you mean, master? Has your pet displeased you? If she has, please tell her how so she may correct herself. If her offense is too grievous, she will gladly accept death as her punishment," Leia begged, worried that she had failed her master.
"No, you have not displeased me. But I sense Mara cannot be broken by you or Amanda alone. Tonight, she must sleep with me and realize what I can offer her. You must spend the night in the harem," Jabba regretfully told her. Leia nodded shakily, accepting his decree. "Since we will not be together later, you must please me now," her master ordered. Grinning, Leia began an intense evening with her master, determined to make the most out of this situation.
After Jabba had finally had his fill of her, he sent her to fetch Mara. "I'll see you tomorrow I guess" said Leia rather sad "Fear not my dear, tomorrow you will sleep with me again" said Jabba. Leia looked up with a smile and gave him a big kiss on the lip. She the reluctantly left her master's side, but not before shacking her butt for him and giving him a sexy wink, and left for the harem. Entering, she found Amanda and Mara sitting on the couch, the former engaged in a fruitless attempt to tame the latter. The second she saw her harem queen enter, Amanda immediately fell to her knees. Recognizing her better, Amanda touched her forehead to Leia's foot. Leia smiled at her approvingly. Amanda was an excellent harem mistress and a loyal best friend.
Mara, on the other hand, defiantly remained on the couch. In her superior queen tone, Leia said, "Mara, The High Exalted One demands that you spend the night with him tonight, alone, for he senses it is the only way to tame you." Mara walked off the couch and passed by Leia. "Hutt slut," Leia heard Mara taunt. Leia considered reprimanding her, but decided to let it pass. Mara would have learnt her place by the end of the night, and besides, Leia considered the term a compliment. As Mara left, Leia looked down at her obedient best friend. They had an interesting evening ahead of them.
A Talk with Jess
Mara's POV
Furious, Mara stormed out of the harem. As she began to consider if she should indeed obey Leia's order, she heard an unwelcome voice. "Mara! You ready to go?" asked Jess, walking up to her. "What are you doing here?" Mara demanded. "Well, her highness asked me to escort you to your meeting with our glorious master. Now come on, or you'll be late!" Jess said.
"Listen Jess, I'm not going. I don't want to spend the night with that slug!" Mara declared. Jess reeled back as if struck. "Mara! How can you insult The High Exalted One? After all he does for us? If you don't come, I will have to ask her highness for guards to escort you. Don't make me do that," Jess asked. Mara knew she wasn't lying. Fine. She would rather enter with dignity then in the clutches of Jabba's henchmen.
"Alright, let's go," Mara conceded. She began to walk down the hall. The ever-perky Jess smiled and ran in front of her. This only served to annoy Mara. "Jess, why do you call that rebel scum her highness? Leia's not even here, and it's not like she deserves that title," Mara asked, walking slowly towards the throne room. Jess glowered at her. "Because Mara, our queen deserves more respect than anyone besides our master. Trust me, she is the greatest thing that has ever happened to our harem. I know what a cruel leader can do, Mara, and it's not pretty," Jess answered.
"But Jess, she's just a slut for a ruthless crime lord. Don't you see how low she really is?" Mara intoned. Jess stopped walking. Her cheeks flushed red, and her face took on a look of extreme anger. "Careful, tyro," warned Jess with barely contained fury, "I may not be mistress or queen, but I am still a senior slave here and your superior, remember that. I will not stand here and let you continue to insult my master and my queen. Now apologize, or I will ask her highness to punish you. She will, I promise you that."
"And how will she do that?" Mara challenged, "Jabba obviously doesn't want to beat me, clearly to trick me into thinking he is merciful." Jess flashed a wicked grin. "No. We don't do that here. The High Exalted One cares about us far too much to hurt us. It hasn't happened in over fifty years. But her highness has ways. She can restrict your privileges and prevent you from having any fun with your sisters whatsoever," Jess fired back.
Mara fumed. To her shame, she had grown attached to the luxuries of the harem and the intimate games between these misguided women during the three months she had spent with them. Taking a deep breath, Mara said, "I'm sorry." Jess smiled, gestured for her to keep walking, but still maintained a guarded mood. Mara hesitated, then asked, "But don't you ever hope to get out of here? To have freedom? Listen, Jess. I was an important asset to the emperor and my powerful abilities could aid us in getting out of here. I could kill the guards out front. You, me, and the rest of the girls could walk out, steal a ship, and go to a Hutt-free planet. Please Jess, don't you ever wish for a life free of your master?"
Jess sighed. "No, Mara. I don't. Ever. If somehow I was teleported half a galaxy away, completely free and with a million credits to my name, the first thing I would do is get on a ship and come rushing back, then beg our master to let me return. I know what you think, but I am not brainwashed Mara. I've experienced a privileged life without slavery, and I have to say, being a pet to The High Exalted One is ten times better. Soon you will realize this as well. Our master cannot be resisted, only obeyed. In return, he gives us a life free of worries, free of fear, and free of danger. And on that note, we're here!" Jess exclaimed, as they were now just outside the throne room doors. "Have fun Mara," Jess said, gently pushing her inside.
A Deal
Mara stepped inside, and was greeted by an almost empty room. Only one being still remained at this hour, and it was to him that Mara's gaze was drawn. Jabba the Hutt reclined on his massive throne, grinning at her. "Ah, my rebellious pet has joined me," his voice boomed around the room. "Come to me, my lovely," he ordered. Mara did so, stopping in front of his dais.
"Do you wish to please me, my lovely?" he asked her. Mara shook her head. "No, but this will definitely please me!" Mara yelled. She hadn't been lying to Jess when she said that she had powerful abilities. Now she had Jabba alone, and this was the perfect time to use them. Channeling her anger, she released a torrent of blue lightning at Jabba. He may have been strong, but Mara knew he had no defense against this. The lightning reached Jabba's skin.....and fizzled out into nothing. Mara struggled to keep up her barrage, but the lightning refused to have an effect on him. Breaking off the attack, all she could do was stare in amazement.
"How?" Mara asked, stunned. Jabba laughed. "You are not the first beautiful woman to hopelessly attempt to kill me," Jabba boomed, "And, like the first, you shall know my mercy." Mara could not resist as invisible hands grabbed her and forced her face inches from Jabba's. Powerless, she watched her master's great tongue extend out of his mouth and reach towards her. Her face could still move, but she could not avoid her master's kiss.
"No pleas..." Mara begged, but Jabba's tongue intruded into he mouth. His powerful tongue quickly overpowered hers and took control of her mouth. Mara had no choice but to submit to his assault. Strangely, after a while, she began to enjoy it, though she still struggled to break away. Jabba's tongue finally withdrew. "Did you enjoy that, my pet?" he asked her. Mara's cheek's flushed, but she did not respond.
The invisible hands holding her lifted her onto the throne, right before Jabba. There was no question, it was obvious Jabba was an extremely powerful force user. Mara had been personally trained by the emperor, but it seemed she was no match for Jabba. "Now you will pleasure me, my lovely, and finally accept your place," he told her.
Mara laughed at him. "Even if I enjoy my time with you, which I doubt, it wouldn't make me appreciate you," she scoffed at him. "You will Mara. For three months you have yet to experience the pleasure I can give, but that will now change. You have seen how happy and pampered my other pets are. You think it is a trick, but after tonight you will realize what an honor it is to serve me," Jabba said. Mara scowled at him. "So you say, but I am not as weak as the rebel bitch that you keep on a leash," she warned.
This greatly angered Jabba. "Do not insult my favorite!" his voice boomed. Mara lowered her eyes to the floor. "Yes, master," Mara accepted. Then she realized what she had just said. She had never called him 'master' before. Jabba petted her shoulder. "Now, you will obey my every command," he ordered. Mara regained her composure. "No, I won't obey, I'd rather die. You'll just have to kill me," Mara said. Jabba laughed. "Shall we make a deal, slave?" he offered. Mara considered him. "What kind of deal? she questioned.
"You will obey my every command tonight. In return, tomorrow morning, you will be free to leave," Jabba offered. Mara was stunned. "I don't believe you, I know you want me badly, I don't think you would give me up just for one night of passion," Mara challenged. Jabba grinned. "You will not be leaving. I said you would be free to go, I didn't say you would want to," he replied. Mara laughed. "You honestly believe that? I still have resources across the galaxy, I won't want for anything if I am on my own again. Why would I even consider staying?" Mara asked.
"Because you will not be able to bare leaving your rightful place. I am so confident that you will beg to stay that I offer you this. In the morning, you will accept your place as my pet and begin your life as a willing slave," he said. Mara grinned. "I doubt it," she defied. Do you accept my terms?" Jabba asked. Mara was amazed. This slug's overconfidence would be his downfall. "Very well. I look forward to leaving your revolting presence forever tomorrow," she promised. Jabba stroked her shoulder.
A Night with The Exalted One
"Remove your clothes," he ordered. Now free to move, Mara reluctantly did so, removing her red bra and bikini and tossing them to the side, leaving her naked before her master. "Suck on my tail," Jabba commanded. Mara hesitated, but knew this would be worth it. She crawled to his tail and took it into her mouth. Immediately, she was surprised by how..bearable.. this was. She sucked while awaiting his next command. "Now massage it," Jabba ordered. Mara took his tail out of her mouth and began to stroke it. She was amazed by how firm and muscular it was.
That was how the night went. As the time passed, Jabba gave her more and more vulgar commands. And Mara soon realized one thing; she wasn't disgusted. Despite the fact that she had had nightmares about doing this, it wasn't repulsive by any means. Still, Mara didn't understand how Jabba was planning to use the night to make her stay, until his commands changed. Jabba began to order her to do things that specifically benefited her. She began to experience an emotion she had never truly felt before: pleasure. And she loved it.
Mara immediately suspected he was just giving her these specific orders just to give her a favorable impression of a night spent with him, but logic quickly disproved this theory. The acts he made her do were so enjoyable, so perfect, that it was doubtless that he was used to giving them to his other slaves. Jabba was clearly accustomed to ensuring his slaves were satisfied, even if he didn't need to be to obtain pleasure for himself. This led Mara to a shocking conclusion that he cared that his slaves were happy. She didn't have much time to ponder this, though, as Jabba kept her busy.
Remember what the emperor taught you, remember how important you were to him, his first and only Hand, Mara thought to herself. Yes, that was right. Mara already had dedicated herself to a master, a kind and just one, and this slug's dethroning of him proves he is truly evil. And then, Mara's beliefs of her early life were shattered. Jabba began to enter her. With his every thrust, a new vision appeared in her mind, each one quick and clear.
She saw the emperor training numerous Hands, all told they were the only one. She then witnessed the emperor torturing a prisoner with sadistic pleasure. Scene after scene flooded her mind. Atrocities committed by the empire, the cruelty of the emperor, people suffering under his rule. Her entire life had been a lie. All the hard work and effort she put into it had only served evil.
She considered the possibility that Jabba had just created these visions and that they were all lies. But she realized how crazy that was. Creating untrue visions in the force was possible, but extremely difficult. If Jabba could do this, he could definitely use dark side mind control. Why didn't he just use it on her and all his pets? They'd be easy to dominate. All thoughts in their heads would cease, replaced by an urge to do whatever he said, with zeal. The fact that she could think these thoughts right now proved he was not using it on her. Even though he easily could and still receive the same pleasure. But why?
The answer crashed into her mind like a tidal wave. It was because he cared about her, cared about his slaves. It was the only explanation. He could dominate their minds, take pleasure from them and make their lives a living hell. But he didn't. He wanted them to be happy, wanted them to have a wonderful life in his harem. She should have realized it sooner, when Jabba had grown so angry when she had insulted Leia. It was because he cared about her! As the visions ceased and she reached her climax, Mara now knew where her place was.
"Ahhhhhh!" she moaned as she collapsed into Jabba's side. He gently rubbed her shoulder, giving her a minute to recuperate. After she had mostly recovered, Jabba asked, "Will you now serve me, my lovely, as my slave and as my pet?" Mara looked up at him. She had thought him repulsive, disgusting. How foolish she had been. With her realization, Jabba now appeared to her as the most attractive being in the galaxy. He truly was a far superior being.
Mara knelt before him, "Yes, master, your pet will serve you forever. She begs to be accepted as one of your slave girls. Please forgive her earlier disrespect and take her as your slave, she knows her place now," Mara said. "I accept. Welcome to your new life. I am sure you will please me again soon. Return to the harem I graciously provide for you, I am sure your queen will be glad of your new mindset," Jabba said. Mara rose and bowed deeply. "Yes master," she said.
Return to the Harem
Mara entered the harem. The room was completely quiet. The lights were almost all turned off, only a very dim glow illuminated the room. Making her way past the pools and sofas, she opened the door to the lift. She knew where she was going. Leia and Amanda were constant companions, it was obvious they would be staying together in Amanda's room. The lift made its way silently past the night rooms, where all of the non-senior slaves slept with the guests they had managed to charm. The lift stopped on the fourth floor, where all of the senior slaves' rooms were.
Mara stepped out, walking quietly down the hallway, so as not to disturb the senior slaves and their guests, who slept together in the luxurious, private rooms. At the end of the hallway was Amanda's room, the biggest of them all. Mara walked to the door. What should she do? Knock and probably disturb everyone, including Leia and Amanda, from their sleep, or barge in? Mara decided to open the unlocked door slightly. Peeking inside, she discovered Amanda snuggled in Leia's arms and laying on her left breast, both asleep and naked.
Mara silently walked in silently, then slowly closed the door behind her. She wondered of she should wake them up, but they looked so comfortable; she didn't want to disturb them. Still, she was very tired, and needed to sleep. Mara decided to simply lay on the soft carpet floor and close her eyes. As Emperor's Hand, she had slept on worse.
Mara soon fell into a deep sleep. She dreamt that Amanda and Leia shunned her, refused her. Mara and Leia had been on opposite sides before, and that worried her. She wanted to apologize for her earlier behavior and become friends with them, but she wasn't sure she would be accepted. In her dream, Leia threw her out of the room, then when to Jabba and had Mara thrown out of the palace altogether. A day ago, Mara would have jumped at this, but now it terrified her.
The alarm clock beeped at 9 am. Mara, with her assassin training, woke up first. By the time Leia and Amanda stirred, she was already kneeling at the foot of the bed. Her sisters started to moan and yawn. "Thanks for listening your highness," Amanda yawned. "Of course Amanda, last night was...Mara! What are you doing here?" Leia asked. She seemed startled, but not angry.
Mara bowed her head. "I have come to repent for my actions, your highness. I see the truth now, as you promised I would. Rebellion, Empire, none of it matters. All I care about is pleasing The High Exalted One. I am sorry for what I said to you, your highness, and to you, my mistress. Will you accept me?" Mara asked. Leia and Amanda smiled at each other. "Welcome sister," Leia said, climbing out of the bed. Mara began to kiss her queen's feet.
Leia let her go on for a bit, then ordered, "Rise, Mara." She obeyed. Leia leaned in, then gently began to kiss her. Mara responded. After a couple seconds, Leia pulled back. "Our former allegiances no longer matter Mara, and I am happy to call you sister," she said. Mara smiled. "Thank you, your highness," Mara replied. Leia then looked at her questioningly. "But Mara, why did you sleep on the floor? There's plenty of room in Amanda's massive bed," Leia asked.
Mara smiled. "I didn't want to disturb you, and I wanted to be here when you woke up. I've slept in worse before," she explained. A frown appeared on Leia's face. "Oh Mara! You must have been freezing, sleeping in your costume with no blanket on! Understand Mara, that you're living a life of luxury now. You're entitled to sleep in a comfortable bed for the rest of your life," Leia answered. "And we would have enjoyed your company," Amanda chimed in.
"It's not too late. Why don't we have some fun together? What do you say, Mara?" Leia offered. Mara was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was the only one in the room clothed at all. Removing her costume, she said, "It would be my honor, your highness.” Leia, Amanda, and Mara got into Amanda's personal hot tub. Mara was soon introduced to all of their favorite games. In their favorite, the giggle game, Mara's training allowed her to outlast Amanda.
"Hahahaha, yes, yes!" Amanda said, "Damn, Mistress Leia was the only one who could ever beat me. Let’s see you play her!" Mara tried her best, but Leia's face didn't move an inch. On Leia's seventh turn, her resistance finally collapsed. "Hahahaha, you win, your highness," Mara admitted. "Of course I did, now let's see if you both can't beat me!" Leia challenged playfully. It took a while, but even Mara and Amanda working together couldn't make Leia move an inch. First, Amanda giggled, then Mara. Leia wasn't the queen for nothing.
After two hours, the girls prepared for dance practice. "I take it you'll finally be joining us?" Amanda asked. Mara grinned. "I have a lot of experience, I'm sure I'll impress you," she promised. Putting back on her clothes, Mara walked out of the room and into her new life.
Mara's New Life
First Practice
Amanda's POV
Amanda followed Mara out of the room and into the harem. She was extremely happy. Mara was the first new girl since the taking of Coruscant to be added to the harem, though she wouldn't be the last. The High Exalted One eventually desired one hundred beautiful girls to be his pets. He planned to accomplish this within the next year, during which he would make the harem twice as large as it already was. The additions was planned to start in several days, and would take a week. Right now, not including Leia, twenty-six or so slave girls resided in the harem. Six girls slept in their personal rooms, while the other twenty slept on the second and third floors. The 10 rooms on these two floors were identical, but the third floor was reserved for girls with guests.
The harem could accommodate them all, for now. But on nights with no festivities (Parties were only held five nights a week now, due to Jabba's duties as Emperor), the girls just barely fit, doubling up in the second floor rooms. Another girl and they would be over packed. The new addition would fix this. The main harem area would be considerably expanded, but that wasn't the main addition. The number of rooms on the third floor would be increased to 100 and the number of rooms on the second floor would increase to fifty. That way, even when 100 slaves slept in the harem, there would be enough room even if they all slept on the second floor (they preferred to double up.) Each room on the second and third floors would be of better quality than any other room in the galaxy, and the senior rooms on the fourth floor would be even better than that.
Looking around, Amanda surveyed her sisters. Leia sat on her favorite blue silk couch that had essentially become her throne, watching the others dance. Amanda led the practice, keeping a close eye on Mara. True to her word, Mara's skills were impressive, she would be a wonderful addition. Mara had been extremely difficult to train, but the rewards were extremely gratifying. At long last, Mara had seemed to accept the truth.
What was up to Amanda now was to see that Mara adapted well to her new life. She knew it would not be hard. A life free of all responsibilities besides pleasure was an easy one. Here, they were not poor peasant girls or over-worked members of the nobility. Here, they were goddesses of lustful passion, desired by every man and envied by every woman who entered the palace. Most importantly, they were beloved by The High Exalted One himself. In return, they loved and worshiped him for the god he was.
For the hundred thousandth time, Amanda mentally thanked her master for bringing her here. At best, she would now be an old woman with white hair and wrinkles running across her body, a shadow of her former self. The worse and more likely scenario was that she would be already dead, a forgotten corpse in a Bespin dump. Instead, she was here, seventy-six years old, looking not a day older than twenty-one.
Amanda had always had a master, of course. Jaxton and Vol, the two smugglers who had found her and made her strip at the casino. Her father, what was his name again? She didn't remember and she didn't care. All she remembered was how horrible he had been, how he had abused her. Looking around at her twenty six sisters, she knew none of them had been quite as broken as she was, but all still loved and embraced their new lives. Now, Mara did as well.
Leia suddenly beckoned Amanda over. Leaving Jess in charge of the dance practice, Amanda walked over to and knelt at her Queen's feet. "What do you think of Mara?" Leia asked. Amanda smiled. "She is very impressive, your highness. She will be more than ready for the Council meeting," Amanda assured her. "Yes, I am sure she will," Leia agreed. "Now I will return to my master, ensure Mara and her sisters are ready," Leia ordered. Amanda bowed her head, "Yes, your highness," she said. Leia left to return to Jabba, while Amanda went back to the practice area. They had work to do.
Leia and Jabba
Leia's POV
As soon as Leia entered the throne room, Jabba's large powerful eyes immediately focused on her. "Come to me, slave," Jabba commanded in his deep Huttese voice. Leia approached slowly, then bowed low before her master. One of his stubby arms reached out and cupped her chin, and Leia found herself staring at her great master's face.
Leia looked at him, her Hutt master. His red, reptilian eyes, massive slimy body, and large powerful tail; Leia wondered how such a perfect and powerful being had ever come into existence. She knew it was beyond her comprehension. "Your master has missed you slave, now take your place beside him," he ordered. Leia slowly climbed onto the dais, then sat up and awaited hid first command.
Her relationship with Jabba was complex. He loved her, cared for her, and needed her, but he also treated her as a slave; an inferior being who was expected to obey his every command without hesitation. Leia wouldn't have it any other way. She obeyed this slug, this amazing, attractive, perfect slug, because he was her rightful master. He was all she lived for. She loved him, appreciated him, and worshiped him for being the wonderful master he was.
As Jabba's meetings began and Leia did her job, acting as a piece of furniture or trophy on the throne and staying silent, she continued her musings. Her life was perfect, she was fulfilling her destiny to serve Jabba as his favorite slave, and yet; Leia was starting to have her doubts. Not of her master, she would never doubt him, but of herself. Every day, she sat in front of Jabba. And every day, he grew fatter, grander, and more powerful. And as his size grew and his shadow towered over her, she questioned her ability to satisfy him.
Leia was beginning to doubt her worthiness for the honor that was being Jabba's favorite pet. She knew of course that if she wasn't no woman was. Leia loved Amanda, Mara, and all her sisters, but she was well aware of her superiority to all of them. Still, she wondered if her master should simply keep two or more favorite pets at a time. She knew this would be a great dishonor in the Hutt culture, but it might be the only option. Leia didn't voice these concerns to her master, though. She knew it was not her place to question him or give him suggestions. But if he ever asked, Leia would tell him of the doubts she was experiencing. For now though, she enjoyed this time with her master. She leaned her back into his belly, and his slime immediately began to stick to her skin. She had missed that feeling.
As the day wore on, Leia could tell her master desired her. His hungers were great, and she hadn't pleasured him for nearly twenty four hours. Sensing this, she began to sit in even more sexy positions, enchanting her already wonderful curves. After every meeting was done, she leaned back and grinned at him, then licked her tongue along his fat chest, running it across his slime. Leia could tell he was getting very aroused. His massive tongue constantly licked his wide lips, and Leia knew he was giving her lustful, even perverse, glances every five seconds. After his last meeting was finally done and dinner was over, Jabba dismissed everyone from the throne room. They all knew why. Two years ago, Leia would have been extremely embarrassed by this, now she was proud, proud everyone knew that she was the Hutt's concubine. After they had left, Leia's leash tugged her around.
Leia was pulled to within inches of her master's face. His fat, dripping tongue oozed out of his mouth and began to kiss her across her face. Instead of recoiling, as she would have done two years ago, Leia accepted the tremendous honor of receiving the Hutt's affections, kneeling down before him and letting his tongue soak her face. She was giggling, which Jabba loved hearing. After ten minutes, the Hutt finally ceased.
Leia was pulled upright again, at which point her Hutt master belched right into her face. She smiled as she inhaled the rancid breath, as her nose had adapted to love the smell. Lowering her head, her face dripping with slime, she remained silent. Her master hungered for her, and tonight he would be eager to display his mastery of her. "You are mine!" his voice boomed, "And I will do with you what I want!" "Yes, I am yours, master," Leia said submissively, accepting his dominion of her. Jabba laughed. "I know," his voice boomed. His tail appeared in her face, and she immediately took it into her mouth, licking and sucking it with all of the intensity she could muster.
To her, Jabba was more than her master, he was her god. Some would this was crazy, but Leia had her reasons. Her life was dependent on his generosity. If he wanted to, with a flick of his wrist he could end her. She was putty in his hands, every aspect of her life was determined by him. And he was always present. Somehow, probably due to his supreme command of the force, he was always there at the back of her mind. The leash, too, added to his constant presence. Before, she had hated it, now it was her favorite part of her costume.
After pleasing her master for hours, he was finally satisfied. Hoping she had done her job well, Leia fell into a deep sleep.
Discontent
Early Awakening
Mara's POV.
The night after the Hutt Council meeting, Mara stirred. The clock showed four in the morning, she had gotten up five hours early! There was no commotion in the harem, the alarm hadn't gone off by accident, and even the usually bustling Coruscant skyline, visible out of the rooms' many windows.
For a second, Mara was startled to find two smooth arms wrapped around her, then she remembered the previous night. Turning over, she looked at her bed companion. Amanda was sleeping peacefully, as of yet unaware of Mara's awakening. Unlike the rest of the non-senior slaves, Mara wasn't doubling up with anyone in one of the opulent second floor rooms.
Usually, she would have been quartered on the third floor, with a court guest, but their had been no festivities the previous night. Instead, she was currently on the fourth floor. Seven bed rooms there were set aside for the senior slaves; Jess, Lyn Me, Melanie, Rystall, Diva, and Amanda. The seventh had not yet been awarded.
These rooms were far superior to the ones on the lower floors, which were extremely luxurious in their own right. Amanda's was the largest and most luxurious of them all. Amanda's invitation had surprised Mara. The senior slaves were proud of their extra luxury, and didn't usually share it with the lower slaves. Amanda and Mara didn't need to be alone to be intimate with each other (which they had been.) Modesty and privacy were non-existent in the harem. Amanda, however, had explained that she wanted some extra "quality time" with the beautiful Mara, and had invited her to stay in her room as a reward for performing so well during the Council Meeting earlier. Mara, of course, had been in no position to refuse her mistress.
Amanda's beautiful face finally stirred, and she stretched and yawned. "Mara?" she asked sleepily, "What's wrong?" "Nothing, mistress. I guess I'm just used to waking up earlier," Mara explained, which was true. As emperor's hand, she had generally slept five hours a night, not the ten her sisters were used to.
"I know it's hard, Mara, but you're not an assassin anymore, you can sleep late now," Amanda scolded. "Sorry, mistress," Mara replied. Amanda smiled. "Now go to sleep, love you," Amanda ordered. Mara turned over. "Love you to," she said, closing her eyes. With difficulty, she went to sleep.
Unusual Emotions
Amanda's POV
The next afternoon, Amanda surveyed her sisters. Dance practice had just ended, and they were all free to enjoy themselves. Jabba would be going on some sort of trip tonight, so the evening festivities had been cancelled. Some were kissing or playing other 'games'. Others were sipping soothing wine from glasses of perfect crystal. Still more were swimming or dosing in one of the ten pools. Leia was currently reclining on her favorite silk chair, sampling some wine herself, thinking about her previous night with her master. She was alone, but at her command, two newer slaves came over. At her orders, they began to serve her. One began to comb Leia's hair, which had gotten wet from a swim in the pools. The other went over to one of the fruit bowls and pulled out a bunch of grapes. At Leia's prompting, she began to feed them to her.
Leia closed her eyes and grinned while her sisters served her. Amanda smiled. Leia had certainly gotten used to being harem queen. Though completely and utterly submissive to her master, Leia now conducted herself as royalty while among her sisters. Amanda could not have been prouder, having trained Leia since her arrival. She had introduced Leia to their ways, taught her to dance, shown her their games, and then watched Leia surpass her and take her rightful place.
Yet Leia was not the same as traditional royalty. She demanded the same respect and diffidence, but her attitude was very different. Normal royalty were constantly on guard and stressed, always looking for ulterior motives. Leia did not. She may have while princess of Alderran, but the Queen who was being fed grapes right now was greatly changed from the reserved former Alderran royal. Her intellect, except that which involved pleasing her master and running the harem, had dimmed considerably. Her eyes had lost their luster of intelligence, no longer calculating or concerned with anything or anyone.
Except Jabba and her sisters. Her master was the ruler of the galaxy, he handled the matters that required political and intellectual intrigue. Leia had other concerns. She kept the harem running and pleasured her master, two tasks that suited her new personality very well. She didn't care about galactic affairs, she cared about being a good slave to her Hutt master, and that was how it should be. In two years here she had forgotten all she had learned while Princess of Alderran. Leia had told Amanda that she didn't care that she wasn't nearly as bright as she used to be; because it was required to run the best harem in the galaxy in the way that a Harem Queen should. In that, she was unequaled. And that was all that mattered.
Looking around, Amanda spotted Mara. She looked...well, discontent. She was sitting on the edge of a pool, occasionally chatting with another slave, but mostly remaining silent and glum. Amanda was puzzled by this. Tamed slaves did not experience unhappiness. Amanda could barely comprehend it. It was like her brain was saying Does not compute. On the verge of panic, Amanda reeled around to look at Leia, but she was already gone....
submitted by Slippery_Dancer180 to jabbaleia [link] [comments]

A Defense of the Theory of Guaranteed Bilateral Annihilation

This is the final part of this series. Made the bad life choice of not taking a nap after my calc final today to write this.
I MADE THIS FOR YOU
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Enjoy
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“And that is the theory of Guaranteed Bilateral Annihilation.” Retty looked around at the audience sitting attentively in the hall in which she was defending her dissertation. The way the dissertation defense works at educational institutions in the Collective is the doctoral candidate essentially gives a lecture on the subject, answers questions from a board of experts in the field, and then answers questions from anybody else that decided to attend. They are completely open to the public, free of charge. Really, once a doctoral candidate has received a date for their dissertation defense, they pretty much have the doctorate. The Defense is more of a formality. An average defense would only take about an hour or two and would usually take place in a smaller lecture hall, with maybe thirty or forty people other than those on the expert panel showing up - and these people were usually family and friends that were guilted into being there.
Retty’s defense was different. Originally it was in XEN-002, the smaller of the two lecture halls in the Xenology building. Rumors about Retty’s topic started to spread, making waves through the field, and before long, there were well over a few thousand experts, students, history buffs, and other complete randos that were planning on attending the defense. It had to be moved to the Grand Hall, a multipurpose concert hall with well over five-thousand seats. Usually it was reserved for graduations, orientations, concerts, and famous guest speakers. A dissertation defense in the Grand Hall was unheard of. That being said, a large portion of the attendees probably came from the freshman-level xenology weedout classes, as a few of the professors offered extra credit to those who attend and write a short report on her defense and why they think it is significant.
“First, I would like to ask the panel if there are any questions.” Her voice reverberated throughout the hall, being diffused by all of the different shapes in the audience. It made her feel powerful. Larger than life. As though she was significant. And yet, she was still only one of a few trillion in the Collective.
A few moments of beautiful silence were broken by an old, worn voice that sounded like it was made of leather, gravel, and a lifelong addiction to death sticks. That must be professor Yutraba, the university’s resident historian representing the Kilvrew species. He was selected to be on the expert panel because his species is the only one known to have used nuclear weapons in active combat and not end up destroying themselves in an irradiated holocaust. Before the Humans, that is. They were able to ban the technology soon after they saw the destruction it caused.
“First off, Candidate Retty, let me just say that your presentation was captivating. I think I speak for all of us when I say that it was easily one of the most interesting dissertation defense presentations I have ever witnessed.”
That made her feel nice. It gave her a little bit of a sense of closure. “Thanks, Professor Yutraba.”
He began to speak again. “What I would like to know is what the Humans’ opinion on the use of nuclear weapons in combat situations is. I feel like they would have never been able to reach a stable state of Guaranteed Bilateral Annihilation if their opinions on the use of the weapons was too negative. You mentioned they were used on multiple accounts before the Cold War began against the… uhh…” he shuffled through his notes real quick. “...against the Japanese. Do you think the Humans who made the decision to use these weapons were justified in their choice?”
“First off, let me just say that personally, I believe there is never a justification to use nuclear weapons in combat. But yes, they were used twice in combat against the Japanese. That was before the extent of the damage they would cause was actually known - similar to your own species, if I am not mistaken.” He nodded in agreement when she said that.
cut to thirty minutes earlier, when Retty was explaining how WWII ended
“It is 1945, and the end of the Second World War, the bloodiest war the Humans have ever fought in their entire history, had come down to the surrender of a faction known as the ‘Japanese.’ Similar to the Uboontoo clan of the Linucks…” She made eye contact with Vic in the audience, who was chuckling for some reason. “...the Japanese had a fierce, honor-bound warrior culture, with military leaders having immense influence in their government. Every Japanese citizen that was capable of defending their homeland, including women and children, was prepared to fight tooth-and-nail. The Japanese had even resorted to suicide attacks on American ships. By the way, for those of you with weak stomachs, I suggest you avert your eyes for a minute.” She showed the audience the famous footage of Kamikaze pilots flying their aircraft into ships. She didn’t see a single audience member turn away, but she did hear a few gasps and see a few winces.
“Their rivals, the Americans, who had been pushing the Japanese borders back to their homeland over the past few years, were planning on invading the Japanese home islands. Millions of casualties on both sides were projected.” As she was saying this, she pulled up images and footage of the Japanese on the gigantic screen behind her. Some showed school children being taught how to fight. Some showed footage from the Guadalcanal Campaign, showing fierce fighting from both the Japanese and the Americans. Some showed airplanes being shot out of the air, leaving a trail of fire and smoke behind them until they hit the water.
“It was at that point that the Trinity device was successfully tested in the middle of a desert in the American mainland on July 16, 1945. The Americans saw their new superweapon as a way to get the Japanese to surrender without having to invade, possibly saving millions of lives in the process. The Americans selected a set of Japanese cities with military significance and warned the citizens of those cities that they were going to be destroyed and that they should evacuate.” She pulled up an image of one of the leaflets that was dropped over the targeted cities.
"Read this carefully as it may save your life or the life of a relative or friend. In the next few days, some or all of the cities named on the reverse side will be destroyed by American bombs. These cities contain military installations and workshops or factories which produce military goods. We are determined to destroy all of the tools of the military clique which they are using to prolong this useless war. But, unfortunately, bombs have no eyes. So, in accordance with America’s humanitarian policies, the American Air Force, which does not wish to injure innocent people, now gives you warning to evacuate the cities named and save your lives. America is not fighting the Japanese people but is fighting the military clique which has enslaved the Japanese people. The peace which America will bring will free the people from the oppression of the military clique and mean the emergence of a new and better Japan. You can restore peace by demanding new and good leaders who will end the war. We cannot promise that only these cities will be among those attacked but some or all of them will be, so heed this warning and evacuate these cities immediately."
She gave the audience time to read the leaflet before changing the image, but she kept speaking while they were reading. “Thousands of these leaflets were dispersed throughout Japanese cities. The Americans were against killing civilians during wartime, but they would not be spared if they had a chance to evacuate and didn’t take it. A few days later, this bomb, named Little Boy…” She changed the image on the screen to one of Little Boy. “...was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima. It released sixty-three terajoules of energy. Everything near it was glassed. Those lucky enough to be close to ground zero were vaporized immediately by the flash. Those caught farther away were left with severe burns if they weren’t killed when the blast destroyed whatever structure they were in. Those that survived still would have to deal with both the massive firestorm that engulfed the city of rubble and the radiation sickness that slowly incapacitated those that were contaminated. The destruction was so severe that many Japanese who hadn’t witnessed the explosion or the damage it caused in person didn’t believe the reports they were hearing. It was at this point that the Americans dropped more leaflets, this time warning of a new weapon of unimaginable power.” She changed the image again to the next leaflet.
"America asks that you take immediate heed of what we say on this leaflet. We are in possession of the most destructive explosive ever devised by man. A single one of our newly developed atomic bombs is actually the equivalent in explosive power to what 2000 of our giant B-29s can carry on a single mission. This awful fact is one for you to ponder and we solemnly assure you it is grimly accurate.
"We have just begun to use this weapon against your homeland. If you still have any doubt, make inquiry as to what happened to Hiroshima when just one atomic bomb fell on that city.
"Before using this bomb to destroy every resource of the military by which they are prolonging this useless war, we ask that you now petition the Emperor to end the war. Our president has outlined for you the thirteen consequences of an honorable surrender. We urge that you accept these consequences and begin the work of building a new, better and peace-loving Japan.
"You should take steps now to cease military resistance. Otherwise, we shall resolutely employ this bomb and all our other superior weapons to promptly and forcefully end the war."
As Professor Yutraba read this next leaflet, it sent a chill throughout his entire body. This reminded him of the documentaries he had watched while growing up about his own species’ use of nuclear weapons during the Areal Badlands conflict nearly two-thousand years ago.
“Three days after dropping Little Boy on Hiroshima, the Americans dropped a second bomb named Fat Man…” She pulled up a picture of the very appropriately-named bomb, displaying its plump, round shape. “...on the city of Nagasaki. While it had a higher yield than Little Boy, about ninety-two terajoules, it hadn’t been aimed as well and did less damage. Still, it killed thousands of people and turned a large part of the city into a firestorm fueled by rubble.”
"Japanese leaders still wouldn’t surrender, though. America had another seven bombings planned. It was thought that the Japanese surrendered because the Soviet Union, a faction with similar power and influence to the Americans, declared war on the Japanese, and not because of the nuclear weapons. The bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed over two-hundred thousand Humans, with roughly half of the deaths occurring within a day of the bombs being dropped.”
cut back to Retty’s first question
“As for whether or not the Americans were justified in their use of the bombs, there are strong arguments both for both sides of the debate. Those saying the use of the bombs was justified claim that their use saved millions of American and Japanese lives that would have been lost in an invasion. Also, the use of the bombs limited destruction to two highly-confined areas, meaning the cost of rebuilding Japan after the war would be less. Those arguing against their use claim that, while the bombs contributed to the Japanese surrender, the main reason they surrendered was because Russia declared war on them and they knew that fighting a war on two fronts with two of the most powerful militaries in the world would be foolish. It is also claimed that an invasion wasn’t necessary, as a naval blockade, firebombing raids, and time would be enough to collapse the Japanese war machine, thus rendering the ‘millions of lives saved’ argument invalid. This topic is still hotly debated by the Humans, and has been for nearly eight-hundred years.”
“To answer the other part of your question, the Human opinion of nuclear weaponry is highly negative,” Retty emphasized the word ‘weaponry.’ “...but they know that without it, they would not even be close to as advanced as they are today.” Professor Yutraba looked intrigued at Retty’s statement.
“All of the Human anti-nuclear movements during the Cold War failed to ban nuclear development, because out of the research they did to develop more and more powerful weapons, they gained valuable knowledge on a new source of cheap, relatively clean energy. Almost the entire foundation of the information they have right now about nuclear physics was gained during the Cold War through an intense program of weapons testing. Almost every major advancement they made over many fields was a result of the Cold War.”
“Their massive thermonuclear warheads taught them about fusion, which was powering most of their ships at the same time as many species much older than the Humans were, and still are, using fission reactors. By the time those other species started using fusion reactors, the Humans were already moving on to antimatter and experimenting with black-hole reactors. Modified missiles, not purpose-built vehicles, first put Humanity in orbit around their home planet. They even found, as I mentioned in my presentation, a way to use nuclear detonations to travel to multiple nearby stars at subluminal speeds.”
“So while the general Human opinion of nuclear weaponry is extremely negative, they realize that nuclear weapons development was a necessary evil.” Professor Yutraba looked satisfied with Retty’s answer.
“Wonderful answer, Candidate Retty. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Professor.” Retty turned to address the rest of the panel.
“Are there any other questions?”
There was a brief pause, and then a delicate but confident voice on the end piped up. It was Dr. Neeb Roweel, a fellow Xenology researcher of the Intellectual Caste of the Guth, a species of small, furry quadrupeds. Retty had her for one of her undergraduate classes and enjoyed her company, as she had an immense capacity for empathy and a desire to understand another being’s feelings that it seemed like no other intellectual shared.
“I have one, Candidate Retty. I honestly cannot fathom the fear that the Humans must have lived in during this time in their history, and I’m sure the audience cannot either. Would you be able to elaborate on this fear and how you believe it changed Human society?” Retty knew this would be the sort of question she would get from Dr. Roweel. She had prepared.
“Imagine, for a second, you are a Human parent living during the Cold War. For the first time, your species has the ability to destroy itself completely. Literally at the press of a button.” She watched as some of the audience members tried imagining what that was like. “Everybody you know. Everybody you love. Your mate. Your children. Destroyed. Vaporized. Glassed. By an enemy you have no personal beef with. And the worst part? There is nothing you can do to stop it. You might have a thirty-minute warning, and that is the best-case scenario.” She pulled up a video. It was a compilation of selected scenes from The Day After and Threads. “These are scenes from two culturally-important Human fictional works. Please, just watch them. It really puts things into perspective.” The compilation was about five minutes long, but nobody dared interrupt. It was too much for a few who weren’t from species that made fictional movies. They had to walk out and get some air.
After the compilation was over, Retty changed the mood a little bit. She put up another clip. It was a black-and-white cartoon with an anthropomorphized, shelled creature that appeared to have the ability to protect itself from danger by retracting into its shell. There was an upbeat song playing along with the cartoon.
There was a turtle by the name of Bert
And Bert the Turtle was very alert
When danger threatened him he never got hurt
He knew just what to do
He'd duck and cover, duck and cover
He'd hide his head and tail and four little feet
He'd duck and cover!
He hid beneath his little shell until the coast was clear
Then one by one his head and tail and legs would reappear
By acting calm and cool he proved he was a hero, too
For finding safety is the bravest wisest thing to do
And now his little friends are just like Bert
And every turtle is very alert
When danger threatens them they never get hurt
They know just what to do
She let the cartoon play all the way through as she saw confused looks in the audience multiplying faster than Barrits during Springtime.
“This, ladies and gentlemen, is an example of how the Humans inspired a sense of hope to counter their fear. It is called ‘Duck and Cover.’ It is an example of one of the informational programs that taught the public how to survive a nuclear attack. Governments also built blast shelters and fallout shelters that would keep the people safe for a short amount of time. Some Humans even built their own bomb shelters in their homes!” Now that the subject of death, loss, and destruction had been put behind them, the audience visibly relaxed a little.
“In general, though, no species, not even one as remarkable as Humanity, can live in permanent fear. The average Human realized that they wouldn’t be able to do anything about the situation, so it made more sense to distract themselves from the possibility of a fiery, radioactive death. They needed to focus on other, more short-term issues anyway, like earning money so that they can feed themselves and their family."
"Another way the Humans would cope was through fiction. Similar to many other species in the Collective, Humans have a very active imagination. They can use this to escape into a world of humor, fantasy, action, and drama to distract themselves from stressful situations. Some of their most significant cultural works came from the Cold War period, like the Star Wars saga. Even though most of them are fictional, you can learn a lot about Humanity by watching their movies.”
She paused. “Does that answer your question, Dr. Roweel?”
“I found your response to be very interesting, Candidate Retty.”
“Thank you, Dr. Roweel.”
“Candidate Retty,” Called a monotone voice from the middle of the panel. It was Dr. Reevee. Retty could never really get a read on Dr. Reevee. He just seemed so… neutral. On everything. She couldn’t remember the name of his species for the life of her, but she did know that they are notorious for being hard to read. It’s part of their culture. They are usually found in two places - governments and casinos. Dr. Reevee probably wanted to break the stereotype and become a sociology professor. He still never expressed any feelings and had an appearance that was neither threatening nor comforting, just like the rest of his species. They were even omnivorous and had grey skin!
“Yes, Dr. Reevee?” Responded Retty, remaining as neutral as possible, so as to not offend him or his species in any way.
“Judging by Humanity’s history, how do you think their involvement will affect the future of the Collective, should they advance from their current status as a provisional member to a full member?” He asked in a robotic voice. She couldn’t tell if he was concerned or hopeful about Humanity’s future role in the Collective.
She thought for a moment. That was a tough question! Interpolation is easy to do with some degree of accuracy, but extrapolation is much harder. Predicting the future is much harder. Retty decided to answer the question, but she did so in a very ambiguous way. She wasn’t sure if it was out of respect or spite of his culture. Or maybe she just didn’t want to answer it for real.
“I believe Humanity will bring about great change within the Collective. It is impossible to say without uncertainty, though. Humanity is different from any species we have come across so far. They have a thought process that is unlike anything ever seen before - they seek solitude like a predatory species, crave companionship like a herd species, and through the use of their social networking technology, they could even be considered a pseudo hive-mind."
"Throughout their history, they have taken the things that threaten the destruction of their species and figured out how to use them for salvation, and they have taken the things that promise the salvation of their species and figured out how to use them for destruction. When exploring the unknown, it’s like they instinctively know know when it is appropriate to take small steps and when it is appropriate to take giant leaps.” After listening to her response, Dr. Reevee appeared to have no strong feelings one way or the other. She continued.
“They are the species that wasn’t sure whether or not a nuclear detonation would set their atmosphere on fire, so they went ahead and tested it because ‘there’s only one way to find out.’ They are also the species that pioneered some of their extremely advanced medical technology with the singular purpose of finding a better way to cure self-induced alcohol poisoning."
"Something about the way they think makes them instinctively act with daftness when trying to be smart, but at the same time, it makes them instinctively act smart when doing something daft. Putting it bluntly, they are both moronic geniuses and genius morons.” Retty looked over to Vic in the audience, whose wide smile was showing off his pure-white teeth. Looking back to Dr. Reevee, thought she saw the corner of his mouth move into a half-smile for a split-second, but he caught himself and returned to his neutral state, feeling indifferent about whether or not anybody noticed his slip-up. She took this as a sign that his feelings for her answer were slightly positive of neutral.
“The effect they have on the future of the Collective all depends on we decide to do. If we accept them into our fold with open arms, the thought processes that we will need to use in order to understand what they are doing are going to make us uncomfortable, but we will progress faster than we ever have before. If we don’t fully accept them into our fold, they will leave us alone and we will be comfortable with our normal ways of doing things at our leisurely pace, but Humanity will surpass the Collective and we will become obsolete. We have a choice, and the time to make it is now. We don’t know what will happen if Humanity becomes the technological driver of the Collective, but as some prestigious Human physicists once said, ‘there’s only one way to find out.’”
submitted by ThePinkWombat to HFY [link] [comments]

Crucible of Interstellar War: Chapter 4

First: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/bpp21i/crucible_of_interstellar_war_chapter_1/
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Previous: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/bq357i/crucible_of_interstellar_war_chapter_3/
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Lieutenant Travis Beaumont tapped his fingers on the arms of his seat while he waited for the end of his twelve hour shift. He and his partner were the only crew of this tiny scout ship, and their orders were to sit here and wait for the arrival of an Alien armada. They had run simulations like this tens of thousands of times, but this was something different. He had been ordered to listen in on local communications, and to forward any mission critical data that the ship’s virtual intelligence might have missed. The VI never missed anything, at least as far as he knew, but command preferred their pilots to remain attentive at all times, and so this was how they kept him occupied during his shift.
He currently had the most powerful man in the galaxy shifting rapidly between screaming at him, begging him, threatening to blow his ship apart, and offering him wealth beyond imagining. Emperor Zhang was desperate to find out when the Alliance fleet would arrive, but by design Lieutenant Beaumont and his partner had absolutely no idea. A scout only knew what he saw and passed along. He didn’t even know the location of the fleet he had left behind, or it’s complement. The scout crews were kept in isolation, with only the other scouts for company. The ship’s VI controlled the scout ship from takeoff to hyperspace, and the only coordinates stored in the computer were their destination, and a comms buoy where they would return to in order to receive the location of the fleet.
Just as the emperor began to scream unlikely details about Lieutenant Beaumont’s mother, Beaumont slammed his hand on the big red button in his cockpit. The scout ships long range sensors had detected an unknown fleet traveling exponentially faster than light… in real space.
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Fleet Admiral Preston Krause face was bathed in red light as his heads up display flared red until he brought up the feed from the scout ship. Less than a day had passed since the arrival of the refugees and the scouting reports had come back, and now it was time to watch Earth burn. He casually flicked the feed over to the navy-wide priority broadcast system, while inside his heart ached. The only way he had a chance of pulling off his plan was if he could continue the deception the bureaucrats had started. As long as the men and woman under his command believed that this was a new simulation, or at least that there was a good chance it was, they would follow his orders without question. Who would risk their careers by cracking under pressure over reaching the mission review lobby a bit earlier? Who would desert to run to be with their families when they would be brought up on charges as soon as the simulation ended?
This was the greatest deception the bureaucrats had ever pulled off. They got young men and women to sign away their lives for ten years, go to boot camp and then step into a freezer and wake up at the end with only three years of pay. They had no expenses while in cryo-training, so it was a large lump sum for most, but an absolute steal for the interplanetary budget. There was no supply chain while they were in cryo, no munitions wasted on training, and at the flick of a button they would have the best trained army, marines, and navy ready to go in peak condition, at a fraction of the cost and unwaveringly loyal as they would all believe it was only a test.
So as the broadcast went out to the fleet, and the admirals of the other eleven fleets under his command checked in and confirmed that all the captains in their fleets were broadcasting the feed to their entire crew, Fleet Admiral Preston Krause began the most dull and disinterested tactical assessment of his career. He couldn’t say the words, but he used his tone to convey he thought this was the most ridiculous enemy they had been matched up with yet, while also sternly reminding them all that the aliens were extremely overpowered and to prepare themselves for the longest campaign they had ever fought. At the end, he deactivated his camera and microphone just after ordering the entire navy to observe the destruction of earth and reflect on countermeasures and tactics of how to slow down the alien juggernauts.
Their extensive training, professionalism, and competition for promotions and bonuses would ensure they would take the fight seriously, his words were only to quell panic and prevent dissent and discord. He sent similar broadcasts to the army and marines, and then closed out every last alert and window on his HUD except for the feed from the scout ship in the Sol system. Only an emergency alert would get to him, and even then only after the captain of the Vigilant Titan had checked to ensure it was truly urgent.
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Lieutenant Travis Beaumont watched as streaks of light burned across the stars in front of him. Seeing the afterglow of real-space FTL was surreal. By the time this streaks of light had reached his eyes, the alien armada had already dropped out of FTL near Pluto. Going off the briefing he had received before their departure from the First Fleet, they had eight “dreadnoughts”, each ten kilometer long monsters. They were more than twice the length of the Vigilant Titan, and many times the volume and tonnage. From largest to smallest the rest were twelve “cruisers” each slightly larger than the Vigilant Titan, twenty two-kilometer long destroyers, thirty five one-kilometer frigates, and over fifty corvettes.
The scout ship had deployed stealthed observation satellites all across the system, and the fleet began to systematically destroy everything in their path. Laser fire shredded the science stations in orbit, and heavy plasma fire carved deep craters into the small planet, erasing all human presence from existence.
They launched themselves to FTL speeds and streaked across the solar system to Neptune, where they steadily destroyed everything mankind had built there. They continued, to the gas refineries of Uranus, the resort casinos over Saturn, and they bombarded the titan shipyards in orbit of Jupiter so ferociously that the very moon which had been mined to create the first interstellar colony ships broke apart. Next was mars, and while she had never been truly terraformed, bio-domes covered much of the planet and had housed a billion souls in her prime. They tore her apart.
Plasma raked across her rusty brown plains as lasers shattered glass domes. For two days, the Aliens carved chunks out of the first planet colonized by humanity, and when they turned to jump to FTL, her surface had been turned to jagged glass.
Everyone watching the destruction unfold waited for the armada to lay siege to earth, but instead they appeared over Venus, then Mercury, but still they ignored Earth as if she wasn’t worth their time. The fleet broke apart, and scoured the solar system. The solar observatories, the satellites in the Lagrange points were swept away like dust caught in a tsunami. As each of the alien ships cleared their designated areas, they gathered together around mars. When the fleet was fully formed once more, they jumped to FTL, and emerged just in front of the ramshackle fleet of relics.
The defense fleet fired off a single futile salvo, a variety of cannons, missiles, and barely a few mass driver slugs, before they were torn apart by laser fire. The dozens of orbital defense platforms around the planet fared better as they concentrated fire on a frigate, and even as the guns firing them were torn apart, the slugs hammered the frigate’s shields. It took twenty slugs to shatter the shields, and the rest blasted through the ship, tearing massive holes in her wings and her body. They shifted their aim as the alien ship broke apart, and while only half of the orbital platforms remained, they managed to finish off one more frigate before the last cannons of the empire fell silent.
The birthplace of humanity, the crown jewel of the Asiatic Empire, traded her life away for a mere two frigates. The alien fleet slowly encircled the doomed planet, as if taunting her with their superiority before lances of charged plasma tore into the cities. From orbit, it looked calm and methodical. Cities were targeted in order of largest to smallest, and the first to perish was Beijing. All it took was a sustained lance of light and then an urban center was reduced to molten slag. But on the ground, it was chaos. The atmosphere boiled, all of the people unable to get off world before the end were fleeing for their lives after the evacuation order had been given, and even as they ran or sped in cards miles away from the cities, the flash of heat turned the lucky into ash, and covered the unlucky in searing agony.
After two days, with every major urban center destroyed leaving massive regions barren of life, the troop transports descended to the planet. Hundreds of thousands of nearly humanoid white and blue armored troops emerged, and began to slaughter everything in front of them with laser fire. Were it not for the quadruped-like extra joint in their legs, and their slender limbs, they could be mistaken for humans. They systematically searched the smaller cities, towns, and what little countryside remained for survivors, and without exception they cut them down. Soldiers, civilians, men, women, young, and old, surrendered or fleeing, it was all the same to the alien army.
The invasion lasted for weeks, although from the first day there was no question of who was in control of the planet. Between the satellites, and the dwindling survivors broadcasting pleas for escape or salvation, the men and women of the Alliance armed forces saw everything they needed to. Even if it was simulated, they had been numbed to the horrors of war long ago. They were watching the tactics of the enemy, to learn how best to fight, but for many a chill ran down their spine, and the felt a sliver of doubt.
As the last man on earth died as a cave network was collapsed on top of him, the ships slowly turned to face the stealthed recon satellites, and with a single shot each one was taken out, and even as the stealthed scout craft prepared it’s engines for launch, a single laser bisected it and detonated its reactor. The Aliens had wanted them to watch, and they were coming for them next.
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Next:
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Thanks for reading, hope I'm not dragging it out too long, like I've mentioned: Short really isn't my strong suit.
​
Hope you enjoyed it~
​
Skaeger
submitted by Skaeger to HFY [link] [comments]

[GW 2017] JP Megathread

Table of Contents

  1. GW Schedule
  2. GW Countdown Lucky Draws
  3. FF30th Anniversary Parade
    1. FF30th Anniversary Dungeon
    2. Crystal Tower ~Demon Lord Advent~
    3. The Golden Vault and Playground Roulette
    4. Omega Time Attack Dungeon
    5. FF30th Mythril Dungeon
    6. Omega MO Battle
  4. FF30th Anniversary Fest
  5. FF30th Anniversary 30-pull Gift
  6. FF30th Anniversary Draw
  7. Crystal Tower Selection Draw
  8. FF30th Login Bonus
  9. Misc
currently, this megathread has incomplete information, this will be slowly updated throughout the event please check back frequently for updates!

GW Schedule

There will be an in-game schedule to check as well, similar to last 2 fests. 
===== April ===== 25/04 - Lucky Draw #1 (Healing BSB) 26/04 - Lucky Draw #2 (BSB/USB/CSB) 27/04 - Lucky Draw #3 (6*) 28/04 - FF30th Anniversary Dungeon starts - Crystal Tower starts - Orbfest #1 starts (Summon/Ice/Earth & Fire/Dark/White) - Orbfest #3 starts (Scarletite/Adamantite) - FF30th Festival B1 starts - FF30th Gift 30-pull starts - Mythril Dungeon x2 starts - Omega Time Attack Battle 29/04 - FF30th Daily Log-in starts 30/04 - FF30th Festival B1 ends - FF30th Festival B2 starts - FF30th Baseball Mythril ===== May ===== 01/05 - FF30th Selection Draw starts (Gem only) - Crystal Tower Part 2 starts - Omega MO Battle 02/05 - FF30th Festival B2 ends - FF30th Festival B3 starts 03/05 - Orbfest #1 ends - Orbfest #2 starts (Black/PoweWind & Holy/NE/Lightning) 04/05 - FF30th Festival B3 ends - FF30th Festival B4 starts 06/05 - FF30th Festival B4 ends - FF30th Festival B5 starts 08/05 - Orbfest #2 ends - Orbfest #3 ends - FF30th Festival B5 ends - Crystal Tower Draw starts 15/05 - FF30th Anniversary Dungeon ends - Crystal Tower ends - FF30th Selection Draw ends - Roulette ends - Crystal Tower Draw ends - FF30th Gift 30-pull starts

GW Countdown Lucky Draws

Starting from 25/04, there will be 3 Countdown Lucky Draws held with a new one each day. The Lucky Draws are:

FF30th Anniversary Parade

To commemorate the 30th anniversary of Final Fantasy, a host of events will be held in FFRK!

FF30th Anniversary Dungeon

This dungeon event will trace the memories of 17 mainline Final Fantasy titles by reliving the first boss fight of each game. The difficulty is set at D30 and bosses will award Mythril and accessories for its series.
Clearing all 17 bosses will unlock a special boss, defeating this boss will award you Tyro's Final Fantasy Grimoire that teaches him his 2nd Ultra Soul Break!

Crystal Tower ~Demon Lord's Advent~

In this challenge event, players will face five bosses on different levels of the Crystal Tower:
  • FFIII Xande (Brave Synergy for FFI-II-III)
  • FFVIII Tonberry King (Brave Synergy for FFVII-VIII-IX)
  • FFVI Omega Weapon (Brave Synergy for FFIV-V-VI)
  • FFXIII Alexander (Brave Synergy for XIII-XIV-XV-Type0)
  • FFXII Hashmal (Brave Synergy for X-XI-XII-Tactics)
Each boss will have different RS, but Core characters will always have Brave Synergy. You cannot exit the Crystal Tower once you start challenging it, so please be prepared to clear it all in one go.
Reaching the top of the tower will let you challenge the FFI's final boss Chaos, with Brave Synergy unlocked for all realms. However, you can only challenge Chaos with a party from the 25 characters you have selected before hand for the Gatekeepers, so please plan well.
Additionally, Crystal Tower will have a Classic and Elite version. The Elite version will unlock on 01/05.

The Golden Vault and Playground Roulette

The Golden Vault returns from last year along with the Playground Roulette. Take this chance to gain massive amounts of materials, orbs, gil and experience! Occasionally, special Goldor enemies will spawn that drop Casino Chips to be used for the Playground Roulette for amazing prizes!
This time, a new D120 difficulty is unlocked while the lower D60 difficulty is removed, so each phase only has 4 difficulties, D15, D45, D90 and D120. The new D120 difficulty will cost 120 stamina, but the spawn rate of Gigantuars and Mini Cactuars are increased drastically. Also, Goldors will not drop only Chips now, they can also drop orbs as well.
Additionally, this year's Golden Vault will have a slighly different schedule:
  • 28/04 15:00 JST - 03/05 14:59 JST - Summon, Ice, Earth + Fire, Dark, White
  • 03/05 15:00 JST - 08/05 14:59 JST - Black, Power, Wind + Holy, Non-elemental, Thunder
  • 28/04 15:00 JST - 08/05 14:59 JST - Upgrade Materials
Prize list for Playground Roulette:
Gold Roulette Prizes:
1x 6✭ Peace Ring (Accessory) - RES +20, Major Paralyse resistance 3x Crystals of each type 5x MC3 Lodes 30x Legend Motes of each type
Silver Roulette Prizes:
1x 5✭ Golden Sword (VII) 1x 5✭ Dealer Suit (Core) 5x Rosetta Stone 1x 5✭ Divine Cross (Knight) - 2xST Holy physical damage, self Draw Fire. Uses Major Holy/PoweNon-elemental Orbs 10x Major Orb of each type 10x Major Growth Egg 7x MC2 Lode 30x 4✭ Motes of each type
Bronze Roulette Prizes:
20x Greater Orb of each type 20x Growth Egg 15x Greater Growth Egg 10x Hero Soul 10x MC1 Lode 50x 3✭ Motes of each type
Total Prizes: 1,032 (103,200 chips for all)
After redeeming all the prizes, extra chips can be redeemed for 10 gil each.

Omega Time Attack Dungeon

Omega returns again to challenge players. This time, his difficulty is upgraded to [Extreme] with a Time Attack component attached and bonus rewards awarded (100k gil@30s, Giant Scarletite@1min, Giant Adamantite@2min) based on the clear time. The fastest players to defeat Omega will be put on an official wiki leaderboard as well.
[Extreme] Omega will also award a 6✭ Extreme Omega Insignia - MND +20, moderate Holy resistance upon clearing it.

FF30th Mythril Dungeon

The Mythril Dungeon returns! This time, defeat the Magic Pot to gain 30 Mythrils in celebration of FF's 30th Anniversary. Not only that, a second 30 Mythril Dungeon Magic Pot will award another 30 Mythrils to commemorate the Crystal Tower Tokyo collaboration!

Omega Time Attack Dungeon

Omega will also come as a MO battle for the first time in this event. Challenge Omega and defeat him three times to earn 40 4★ Motes of each type!

FF30th Anniversary Fest

Features Ultra Soul Breaks with EX modes for 15 mainline Final Fantasy protagonist/heroes with EIGHT new USB's unveiled!

Banner 1 (28/04 - 30/04)

Relic Character Soul Break
Lightbringer Firion (II) USSB "Double Trouble" 10xST Holy/Non-ele physical dmg, EnHoly, self EX Mode "Loyal Retainer"
Kiku-ichimonji Luneth (III) USSB "Memory of the Wind" 10xST Wind/Non-ele physical dmg, EnWind, self High Quickcast 1 and EX Mode "Gale"
Braveheart EX Warrior of Light (I) USSB "Bitter End" 10xST Holy/Non-ele physical dmg, EnHoly, self EX Mode "Light's Blessing"
Ragnarok Warrior of Light (I) LCSSB "Shield of Light" 11xST Holy physical dmg, party HP Stock 2000, activate Holy-element Limit Chain
Sun Blade Firion (II) BSSB "Weaponsmaster" 0CT 4xAoE Holy/Non-Ele physical dmg, party Magic Blink, Burst Mode
Aegis Shield Ingus (III) BSSB "Oathsworn Espada" 4xAoE Earth/Non-ele physical dmg, self ATK/DEF +30%, EnEarth, Burst Mode
Arc Mirage Meia (I) BSSB "Summon Famfrit" 6xAoE WateNon-ele summon magic dmg, EnWater, Burst Mode
Gigantaxe Guy (II) BSSB "Gigant Break" 6xAoE Earth/Non-ele physical dmg, Imperil Earth, Burst Mode
Rune-Graven Bow Maria (II) BSSB "Meteor XVI" 8xST Earth/Non-Ele magic dmg, EnEarth, Burst Mode
Demon's Rod Emperor (II) BSSB "Winds of War" 6xAoE Wind/Dark magic dmg, EnWind, Burst Mode
Shura Gloves Refia (FFIII) BSSB "Dance of Carnage" 8xST Fire/Non-ele physical dmg, self Crit=50% , EnFire, Burst Mode
Matoya's Broom Matoya (I) BSSB "Inner Eye" 8~10xST Fire/Ice/Lightning magic dmg, additional 2 hits if weakness, Burst Mode
Steel Gloves Master (I) BSSB "Show of Courage" 10xST physical dmg, self Guts and Critical=50%, Burst Mode
Gladius Leila (II) BSSB "Poison Cloud XVI" 8xAoE Bio/Non-ele physical dmg, EnBio, Burst Mode

Banner 2 (30/04 - 02/05)

Relic Character Soul Break
Apocalypse Terra (VI) USSB "Omen" 10xST Fire/Non-ele magic dmg, EnFire, self EX-Mode "Magitek Warrior"
Chicken Knife Bartz (V) USSB "Chosen Traveller" 10xST Wind/WateFire/Earth physical dmg, EX Mode "Spellblade Barrage"
Lightbringer P.Cecil (IV) USSB "Sacred Cross" 10xST Holy/Non-ele physical dmg, EnHoly, self EX-Mode "Paladin"
Fairie's Bow Rosa (IV) USSB "Blessing of the Goddess" 0CT Medica h85, Party HP Stock 2000 and Magic Blink
Apocalypse P.Cecil (IV) BSSB "Radiant Blast" 8xST Holy/Non-ele physical dmg, self Sentinel, Burst Mode
Grand Helm Bartz (V) BSSB "Woken Water" 8xST WateNon-ele physical dmg, EnWater, Burst Mode
Ragnarok Celes (VI) BSSB "Triumphant Blade" 8xST Holy/Ice physical dmg, self Grand Cross and ATK/DEF +30%, Burst Mode
Fairy Tale Mog (VI) BSSB "Love Serenade" Party Haste and MAG/MND +30%, Burst Mode
Strago's Cloak Strago (VI) BSSB "Lore" 7xAoE WateWind/Earth magic dmg, EnWater, Burst Mode
Asura Rod Krile (V) BSSB "Tomorrow's Promise" 6xAoE Fire/Non-ele magic dmg, EnFire, Burst Mode
Gogo's Rod Gogo (V) BSSB "Deep Aqua Breath" 6xAoE WateNon-ele magic dmg, EnWater, Burst Mode
Magical Brush Relm (VI) BSSB "Star Prism" 3xAoE Holy/Non-ele white magic dmg, Medica(h55), party Guts, Burst Mode
Cat Claws Yang (IV) BSSB "Seven-Star Heavenly Fist" 7xST Earth/Non-ele physical dmg, EnEarth, Burst Mode
Chocobo Suit Palom (IV) BSSB "Tri-Disaster" 8xST Fire/Lightning/Ice magic dmg, +2 hits when Imperil/Weakness, Burst Mode

Banner 3 (02/05 - 04/05)

Relic Character Soul Break
Force Stealer Cloud (VII) USSB "Ultimate Cross Slash" 5xST Wind/Dark physical dmg, self Critical=100% and EX Mode "SOLDIER"
Masamune Zidane (IX) USSB "Grand Lethal" 10xST random Wind/Non-ele physical dmg, Imperil Wind, self EX Mode "Master Thief"
Conformer Rinoa (VIII) LCSSB "Shiva" 11xST summon magic Ice dmg, party Quickcast 2, activate Ice Limit Chain
Ice Brand Squall (VIII) USSB "Brutal Shell" 9xST Ice/Non-ele physical dmg, self Quickcast 2, self EX Mode "SeeD"
Ultima Blade Cloud (VII) BSSB "C.Motorcycle" 8xST Wind/Non-ele physical dmg, EnWind, Burst Mode
Axis Blade Squall (VIII) BSSB "Cold Blade" 8xST Ice/Non-ele physical dmg, EnIce, Burst Mode
Crystal Cross Rinoa (VIII) BSSB "Angel Wing Icetomb" 8xAoE Ice/Non-ele magic dmg, EnIce, Burst Mode
Sargatanas Zidane (IX) BSSB "Solution 9" 9xST random ranged Wind/Non-ele physical dmg, EnWind, Burst Mode
Yoshiyuki Shin'uchi Sephiroth (VII) BSSB "Octaslash" 8xST Dark/Non-ele physical dmg, EnDark, self Shield 2, Burst Mode
Staff of Ramuh Garnet (IX) BSSB "Thunderlord's Ordeal" Party ATK/MAG +30%, AoE Imperil Lightning, Burst Mode
Viper Halberd Cid (VII) BSSB "Dragon Dive" 10xST Wind/Non-ele Jump physical dmg, EnWind, Burst Mode
Vincent's Glove Vincent (VII) BSSB "Galian Beast" 6xAoE Fire/Non-ele physical or magic dmg based on higher of ATK/MAG, party Radiant Shield, Burst Mode
Enhancer Steiner (IX) BSSB "Knight's Honor" 8xST Fire/Non-ele physical dmg, EnFire, Burst Mode
Quistis's Dress Quistis (VIII) BSSB "Hail to the Queen" 8xST random Bio/Non-ele magic dmg, EnBio, Burst Mode

Banner 4 (04/05 - 06/05)

Relic Character Soul Break
Ace Blitz Tidus (X) USSB "Nostalgic Memories" 10xST WateNon-ele ranged physical dmg, EnWater, self Instant Cast 1 and EX Mode "Ace"
Federation Signet Staff Shantotto (XI) USSB "Transcendant" 10xST Lightning/Ice/Fire magic dmg, EnLightning, self EX Mode "Doublecast Magic"
Yagyu Darkblade Vaan (XII) USSB "Cruel Azul" 0CT 10xST random physical dmg, enemy ATK/RES -40% , self ATK/RES +30% and EX-Mode "Sky Pirate"
Conductor Yuna (X) USSB "Song for Spira" Medica h85, party Raise 40% HP, Guts and Haste
Tactician Magician's Cuff Shantotto (XI) BSSB "Play Rough" 6xAoE Lightning/Fire/Ice magic dmg, EnLightning, Burst Mode
Summoner's Garb Yuna (X) BSSB "Tenets of the Fayth" Medica (h50), party MAG/MND 30%, Burst Mode
Orichalcum Dirk Vaan (XII) BSSB "Ark Blast" 0CT 5xST ranged physical dmg, enemy MAG/DEF -40%, Burst Mode
Spica Balthier (XII) BSSB "Ultimate Fires of War" 8xST random Fire/Non-ele ranged physical dmg, enemy Imperil Fire, Burst Mode
War Blade Auron (X) BSSB "Tornado" 6xAoE Fire/Non-ele physical dmg, EnFire, Burst Mode
Soboro Sukehiro Ayame (XI) BSSB "Meikyo Shisui" 8xST Ice/Non-ele physical dmg, EnIce, self ATK/RES +30%, Burst Mode
Temple Knight Army Sword Curilla (XI) BSSB "Intervention" 6xAoE Holy/Non-ele physical dmg, party ATK+30% / DEF +50%, Burst Mode
Perseus Bow Fran (XII) BSSB "Gaze of the Void" 5xAoE ranged physical dmg, enemy Hyper Break, Burst Mode
High Summoner's Elder Staff Braska (X) BSSB "Tri-Summoning Fury" 8xST random Fire/Lightning/Non-ele summon magic dmg, Enfire, Burst Mode
Dalmascan Saber Reks (XII) BSSB "White Fall" Party ATK/DEF +30% and Haste, Burst Mode

Banner 5 (06/05 - 08/05)

Relic Character Soul Break
Sword of the Wise Noctis (XV) USSB "Awakened Armiger" 10xST physical dmg, self Stoneskin 100% HP and EX Mode "Royal Power"
Apocalypse Zeta Alphinaud (XIV) USSB "Teraflare" 7xAoE Wind/Dark summon magic dmg, EnWind, self EX Mode "Trance Bahamut"
Razor Carbine Lightning (XIII) USSB "Army of One" 10xST Lightning/Non-ele physical dmg, self High Quickcast 1, EnLightning and EX Mode "Flash"
Kaiser Knuckles Zeta Yda (XIV) USSB "Tornado Kick" 8xST Earth/Fire physical dmg, EnFire, self Instant Cast Monk 3 and Physical Blink 3
Prince Battle Attire Noctis (XV) BSSB "The Power of Kings" 0CT 10xST physical dmg, self ATK/DEF/RES +30%, Burst Mode
Enkindler Lightning (XIII) BSSB "Focused Bolts" 8xST random Lightning/Non-ele physical dmg, enemy Imperil Lightning, Burst Mode
Feymark Snow (XIII) BSSB "The Hero is Coming!" Party ATK/MAG +30% and Haste, Burst Mode
Kaiser Knuckles Yda (XIV) BSSB "Forbidden Chakra" 8xST Fire/Non-ele physical dmg, enemy Full Breakdown, Burst Mode
Veil of Wiyu Alphinaud (XIV) BSSB "Aerial Blast" 8xST Wind/Non-ele summon magic dmg, EnWind, Burst Mode
Lilith Rod Papalymo (XIV) BSSB "Enochian Firaja" 8xST Fire/Non-ele magic dmg, EnFire, Burst Mode
Folding Epe Nabaat (XIII) BSSB "Sacrifice Pawn" 9xST random Dark/Non-ele magic dmg, enemy Imperil Dark, Burst Mode
War Sword Gladiolus (XV) BSSB "Tempest" 6xAoE Earth/Non-ele physical dmg, EnEarth, Burst Mode
Hope's Gloves Hope (XIII) BSSB "Explosive Fist" 6xAoE Holy/Non-ele magic dmg, multiplier scales inversely with no of enemies, 60% Stun, self MAG/RES +30%, Burst Mode
Ironworks Magitek Repeater Cid Garlond (XIV) BSSB "Grenado Shot" 7xAoE Earth/Non-ele ranged physical dmg, Imperil Earth, Burst Mode

FF30th Anniversary 30-pull Gift

One time only, 30-pull free gift gacha banner with a guaranteed OSB will be opened to all players from 29/04 to 15/05 as a special present for FF30th Anniversary and Crystal Tower Tokyo collab. The pool of relics available in this draw will be all SSB, BSB and OSB relics released up to the FFV event "Four Hearts".
Relic Pull thread

FF30th Anniversary Draw

Special FF30th Anniversary Draw that lets you choose a Burst Soul Break from more than 100+ characters! Unlike other draws, this draw is Gem-only and will be a one time draw with all relics up to the FFV event "Four Hearts" up for grabs in the pull. The banner will begin on 01/05 and end on 15/05.
The selection list contains 116 Bursts from the following characters:
FF1: WoL, Master, Sarah, Matoya, Garland FF2: Firion, Gordon, Maria, Minwu, Leon, Emperor FF3: Luneth, Arc, Refia, Ingus, OK, Desch FF4: Pecil 1, Decil, Kain, Golbez, Ceodore, Edge, Edward, Palom, Yang, Rydia, Rosa FF5: Bartz 1, Bartz 2, Greg, Galuf, Faris, Gogo, Lenna, Exdeath FF6: Terra, Kefka 1, Shadow, Setzer, Celes 1, Cyan, Sabin, Relm, Locke FF7: Cloud 1, Tifa, Red XIII, Vincent, Cid, Yuffie, Sephiroth 1, Zack, Reno FF8: Squall 1, Zell, Rinoa 1, Laguna, Quistis, Irvine, Fujin, Raijin, Selphie, Edea FF9: Zidane 1, Dagger 1, Vivi 1, Steiner, Eiko, Quina, Amarant, Kuja, Beatrix FF10: Tidus, Yuna 1, Wakka, Kimahri, Auron 1, Rikku, Seymour, Jecht, Paine FF11: Shantotto, Lion, Curilla, Ayame FF12: Vaan, Ashe, Balthier 1, Fran, Basch, Gabranth, Larsa, Vayne FF13: Lightning 1, Snow 1, Sazh, Hope 1, Serah, Fang 1, Noel, Raines FF14: Y'shtola, Alphinaud, Yda, Papalymo, Minfilia FFT: Ramza, Delita, Ovelia Rapha, Mustadio, Gaffgarion, Marach, Agrias Core: Tyro
Relic draw thread: https://www.reddit.com/FFRecordKeepecomments/68kb1c/ff30th_anniversary_selection_draw_jp_relic_draw/

Crystal Tower Selection Draw

Crystal Tower selection banner with a one time only, 11-pull special draw that allows you to choose one Burst as a bonus. The Bursts are chosen from each of the realms represented by the Crystal Tower floors (Flr 1 to 5), with a healing burst and damage burst from each floor chosen for up to a total of 15 Bursts. Held from 08/05 to 15/05.
The selection list will be:
Echo BSB1 Leila BSB Cloud of Darkness BSB Porom BSB Krile BSB Edgar BSB Aerith BSB Seifer BSB Freya BSB Lulu BSB Prishe BSB Penelo BSB Vanille BSB Thancred BSB1 Orlandeau BSB
Relic draw thread: https://www.reddit.com/FFRecordKeepecomments/69wawp/crystal_tower_selection_jp_relic_draw_thread/

FF30th Login Bonus

Special daily login bonus to celebrate FF's 30th Anniversary. Login Bonus list is as follows:
  • Day 1 - 3x Hero Souls
  • Day 2 - 10x Greater Growth Eggs
  • Day 3 - 3x Memory Crystal Lode
  • Day 4 - 10x Giant Scarletite
  • Day 5 - 5x Mythril
  • Day 6 - 3x Memory Crystal II Lode
  • Day 7 - 3x Major Growth Egg
  • Day 8 - 1x Memory Crystal III Lode
  • Day 9 - 10x Giant Adamantite
  • Day 10 - 30th Anniversary Potion accessory

Misc

In conjuction with the celebrations, a host of real life events are being held as well.
  • Crystal Tokyo Tower (28/04 19:00 - 23:00) Tokyo Tower will be lighted up for the campaign to look like Crystal Tower with special prizes in-game given out to players when it happens. The Animate branch at Tokyo Tower will be selling premium FF30th goods as well.
  • Tokyo Tower 4D Battle Projection (28/04 - 07/05) The Tokyo Tower Main Observatory will be holding a 4D Battle Projection event featuring scenes from the FF series bosses over the Tokyo night sky.
  • FFRK x FF30th Anniversary Special CM (29/04 20:00) A special FFRK CM with narration by Takahiro Sakurai and Maaya Sakamoto will air during this time nationwide on CX channel.
  • FF30th Commemoration Baseball Match (30/04 13:00) Special baseball match between Yokohama DeNA Baystars and Hiroshima Toyo Carp to commemorate FF30th. The opening bat will be done with a Buster Sword. 5 mythrils will be sent to all players in FFRK as well.
Twitter Stamina Refresh Campaign
From 28/04 to 08/05, you can get a free stamina refresh daily by posting a tweet from in game. The stamina daily refresh will reset at 05:00 JST (that's the daily login reset) each day.
submitted by CareerSMN to FFRecordKeeper [link] [comments]

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