Chapter 187: Emperor Milleous: It's Over
The Incurseans were a race of warmongering extraterrestrials that bore an uncanny resemblance to bipedal, heavily armored frogs and toads.
Deep within the cold, metallic bowels of a massive Incursean dreadnought, the harsh claxon of alarms blared. An Incursean soldier, his warty green skin slick with nervous sweat and his left arm hanging limply at his side, sprinted frantically down the dimly lit corridor. His heavy boots clanged against the steel grating.
Up ahead stood the only figure on the ship who didn't share their amphibious biology. The injured soldier gasped for breath, waving his good arm. "Commander! Commander Raff!"
Commander Raff turned slowly. He was an imposing cyborg draped in a sweeping black robe. His entirely mechanical body hummed with quiet, lethal energy, while his organic brain floated visibly within a reinforced glass dome atop his shoulders.
"You are supposed to be on a classified mission," Raff said, his synthesized voice dripping with cold displeasure as he eyed the battered soldier.
The soldier snapped a sloppy salute, wincing in pain. "Brock, personal guard to Princess Attea, reporting! Sir, we were ambushed during our reconnaissance mission against the enemy. It was the bounty hunter... Sevenseven!"
"Sevenseven?" Raff's robotic posture stiffened. A deeply ominous premonition sparked within his exposed brain, sending a flurry of electrical impulses through his neural fluid. "Where is the Princess?"
Brock swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "We... we found fragments of Her Highness's battle armor at the combat site."
The heavy, unspoken implication hung in the sterile air: the Princess might already be dead. With trembling, webbed fingers, the guard retrieved a tattered, scorched piece of purple fabric and offered it to the cyborg commander.
Raff stared at the ruined cloth resting in his metallic palm. If he had tear ducts, he would have wept. If he had temples, he would have rubbed them. Instead, he just felt a phantom headache throbbing deep within his floating cortex. "How much longer can we... conceal this from the Emperor?"
As if summoned by his worst fears, a booming, gravelly voice echoed through the dreadnought's intercom system. It was the supreme ruler of the Incursean Empire himself. "Commander Raff! Get in here and answer me!"
Raff and Brock exchanged a long, silent look. The secret was officially out of time.
The heavy blast doors ahead hissed open automatically, revealing the sprawling, opulent throne room. Raff strode in, the terrified guard trailing closely behind him.
"Your Majesty, Emperor Milleous," Raff began, bowing low. "The shining lighthouse of the Incursean Empire, the undisputed destroyer of the Milky Way Galaxy, the supreme master of the Conquest Ray... all things in the universe must bow down to your—"
"Skip the flattery! My daughter is missing!" Emperor Milleous roared. The massive, bloated toad-alien sat slouched upon a disgustingly luxurious golden throne, his thick, warty fingers impatiently drumming against the armrest.
Raff's mechanical heart sank. The old tyrant already knew. Helpless to change the narrative, the cyborg attempted to smooth things over. "Please, do not worry, Your Majesty. The bounty hunter Sevenseven is a professional. He might have only captured Her Highness alive for a ransom."
It was a flimsy hope, but it was all he had.
"Attea would never surrender!" Milleous bellowed, spittle flying from his wide, amphibian mouth. He thrust a fat, accusatory finger directly at Brock. "This is all your fault!"
"Your Majesty, Emperor Milleous, please! Spare me!" Brock dropped to his knees, his green face draining of color. He was completely terrified, pressing his forehead against the cold floor.
"Spare you? You dare to beg for mercy after losing my only heir?" Milleous sneered, his yellow eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Very well. I'll grant you a quick death!"
A hidden panel slid open on the golden armrest, revealing a glowing red button. Milleous slammed his fist onto it. Instantly, a blindingly bright laser beam shot down from the ceiling, striking Brock dead center. With a sharp crackle of ozone, the guard was vaporized into a pile of smoking ash.
"And you, my so-called right-hand man!" Milleous leaned forward, his massive bulk shifting as he glared down at Raff. "Go find my daughter! Now!"
"Uh... right away, Your Ultra-Violent Majesty," Raff replied smoothly. He wasn't being sarcastic or suicidal; among the hyper-militaristic Incurseans, 'violent' was the highest form of praise.
"Sevenseven is a sworn enemy of the Incursean Empire," Milleous muttered, rubbing his warty chin as he began to ponder the situation.
Raff couldn't help but interject, his synthesized voice dry. "With all due respect, Sire, you have a staggering number of enemies. Many of whom you haven't even gotten around to dealing with yet."
"Exactly!" Milleous barked, ignoring the subtle shade. "Head to the nearest galaxy and search every miserable dirtball if you have to! Find her! Otherwise, I will personally see to it that you are dismantled piece by piece!"
Meanwhile, back on Earth.
The cool night breeze swept across the neon-lit parking lot of Mr. Smoothy. Inside Kevin's sleek, black-and-green muscle car, the crew was lounging comfortably, slurping down oversized, brain-freezing fruit smoothies. The current debate: how to waste the upcoming weekend. The options were the lake or the local auto show.
Kevin, gripping the steering wheel like it was a holy relic, was fiercely advocating for the auto show. Gwen, sitting in the back, was equally adamant about a relaxing trip to the lake.
That left Klein and Ben as the tiebreakers. Knowing better than to try and force Klein into doing anything he didn't want to do, Kevin and Gwen immediately turned their combined, high-pressure tactics onto Ben.
"We're going to the lake, right, Dweeb?" Gwen asked, her tone sweet but laced with a very clear threat.
"If you're a real man, Tennyson, you'll back me up for the car show!" Kevin countered, glaring at him through the rearview mirror.
Caught in the crossfire of their threatening glares, Ben instinctively shrank back into the leather upholstery. He cast a desperate, pleading look toward the passenger seat, silently begging Klein for a bailout.
Klein just took a slow, deliberate sip of his smoothie, his expression a mask of absolute, uncaring neutrality.
Before Ben could be forced to choose his own executioner, a blinding flash of teleportation light erupted right outside the windshield.
A squad of heavily armed Incursean soldiers materialized on the asphalt. Without missing a beat, the frog-aliens raised their energy rifles, aiming the glowing muzzles directly at the black-and-green muscle car, gesturing aggressively for the occupants to step out.
Klein sighed, lowering his smoothie cup. He pressed the button to roll down his window, leaning his elbow on the frame. He fixed the lead Incursean with a flat, deeply unhappy stare.
"Frog," Klein said, his voice quiet but carrying a weight that made the air feel suddenly heavy. "If you don't lower that gun in the next second, I'm going to turn you into a very dead frog."
The lead soldier squinted through the window. The moment he recognized the face staring back at him, his warty green skin instantly drained to a sickly, terrified purple. He let out a strangled croak and dropped his heavy energy rifle directly onto the pavement. It clattered loudly against the asphalt.
It was a well-known fact across the cosmos that the Incursean homeworld had been destroyed long ago. The surviving race lived entirely as a nomadic, space-faring armada, boasting tens of thousands of heavily armed dreadnoughts.
Or, at least, they used to have that many. That number was currently sitting at exactly half, entirely thanks to a previous, rather explosive encounter with the very human sitting in the passenger seat.
Another brilliant flash of light illuminated the parking lot. Commander Raff materialized right behind his trembling troops.
"Hey, it's Raff!" Kevin's eyes lit up with recognition. He glanced over at Klein, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Let's go see what the toads want," Klein said lazily. He pushed the car door open and stepped out into the cool night air. Ben, Gwen, and Kevin quickly followed suit, piling out of the muscle car.
"S-Sir. You're here too." The moment Raff's optical sensors locked onto Klein, the cyborg commander visibly stiffened, his mechanical joints whirring with sudden tension.
He had every reason to be nervous. The human standing before him was a walking natural disaster. He was ruthless, overwhelmingly powerful, and had single-handedly beaten the hyper-aggressive Incursean Empire into absolute submission. They had bowed to him simply because the alternative was total extinction.
"Raff, buddy! How have you been lately?" Kevin strolled forward, casually throwing an arm around the cyborg commander's rigid, metallic shoulder like they were old drinking buddies.
"Hey, cousin, who's the walking fishbowl?" Ben leaned over, whispering curiously to Klein.
Gwen didn't say anything, but she crossed her arms, her green eyes fixed on the cyborg with equal curiosity.
Klein kept his explanation simple and dry. "He's the second-in-command of the Incursean Empire. They rule over forty galaxies. We occasionally sell them living supplies on the black market. Kevin usually handles the transactions."
Ben blinked, looking back at the imposing cyborg with a newfound sliver of respect, and nodded slowly.
Klein shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze shifting back to Raff. "So, what are you doing on Earth?"
"The bounty hunter Sevenseven has kidnapped our Princess and brought her to this planet," Raff explained, his synthesized voice tight. "Since Kevin is my only reliable human contact on Earth, I came to seek his assistance. I... I did not expect..."
To run into the literal God of Plagues, Raff finished silently in his head. Why aren't you out wandering the far edges of the universe where you belong?
Raff felt a deep, existential wave of bad luck washing over him. Not only was he taking the blame for the Princess's disappearance, but now he had to handle a rescue mission while standing right next to the most dangerous being in the known universe.
"Wait, Sevenseven?" Gwen frowned, catching the familiar naming convention. "What's his relationship with Sixsix?"
Raff saw no reason to hide the intel. "They are of the same race. Sotoraggians. However, Sevenseven is significantly more dangerous and far more heavily armed."
"Right. Because seven is bigger than six," Gwen deadpanned, rubbing her temples. She couldn't help but complain. The naming conventions of these alien bounty hunters were just too ridiculous.
"So, if you want my help, what is that bloated toad going to give me?" Klein asked, his lips curving into a faint, predatory smirk. He was genuinely curious about what Emperor Milleous could offer. It was a royal rescue mission, after all. The reward for a Princess had to be substantial.
Can I tell him that if he doesn't help, Emperor Milleous plans to blow up the Earth? Raff thought frantically.
He immediately dismissed the idea. He could absolutely guarantee that if he uttered that threat out loud, it wouldn't matter what happened to the Princess. Both he and Emperor Milleous would be dead before the hour was up.
He hadn't planned for Klein to actually be here. The original plan was just to hire Kevin. Now, he had to pivot. He would try to stall, muddle his way through the conversation, and then frantically message Emperor Milleous to empty the royal treasury to pay this monster off.
Just as Raff opened his mouth to negotiate, the communication console inside Kevin's car suddenly flared to life, hijacking the radio frequency.
"Attention, Earthlings!" a booming, arrogant voice roared through the car's speakers. "I am the great Emperor Milleous! Your pathetic little errand boy, Sevenseven, had best return Princess Attea to me within the hour! Otherwise, I will use my invincible Conquest Ray to blast your miserable mudball of a planet into cosmic dust!"
Your Majesty, you absolute idiot!
Raff's mechanical shoulders slumped. He felt a deep, soul-crushing sense of helplessness. It was the exact feeling of being paired with a completely useless teammate who had just actively triggered a landmine.
As expected, the threat hung in the cool night air for only a second before a dark, dangerous hint of playfulness flashed in Klein's eyes. He slowly turned his gaze back to Raff, his smile widening just enough to show teeth.
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