[DAC] The Board Room

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Karl Jak

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Karl Jak stood in a room with Hela, ‘Stephen XVII’ Juunanagou, and PJ.

“So how am I doing today?”

Seventeen chuckled for reasons he didn’t quite understand as he looked at the two older women in the room and the game’s host. “So you’re Karl Jak?” He asked as he put his boots up onto the conference table and took a sip from a large plastic cup of Diet Mountain Dew. “I always had something else in my brain when I heard you talk.”

The producer slid into a chair near the front of the table and scooped up a nearby glass of wine. “You don’t remember the old place, do you?”

The cyborg furrowed his brow. “You mean home? With the monkey people and those fucking icicle aliens and the slug farmers? Why wouldn’t I remember that place?”

Karl Jak took a long sip as he stared the young man in the face. The expression and the tone made it clear that Seventeen wasn’t lying. “You don’t remember the place with that white guy? The one who made all the ominous threats about entertaining him and living forever?”

“I don’t think he does,” PJ interjected as she sipped a Dieta Montaña Rocío and glanced at the woman in green who sat opposite Karl Jak.

“Do you?” Karl asked PJ, drawing her focus back to him and prompting the woman to furrow her brow in a not altogether dissimilar manner to the young cyborg.

“The place with the monkey people? Actually, yes,” PJ chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired cyborg. “You someone I know?” She asked him, prompting him to shrug his shoulders as he sipped a nearly identical neon green beverage.

“Apparently this guy knows both of us,” Seventeen laughed as he pointed to the producer.

Although he rolled his eyes, Karl then proceeded to nod his head. “I know multiples of you. Both of you,” he laughed. “I’m sure there are even more out there… a hundred thousands of both of you in the grand ole multiverse that is reality.”

“Whazzat mean?” Seventeen muttered as he looked over at PJ. “You follow anything this guy says? He’s always so straightforward when he’s gushing over violence or shit-talking people who made poor choices.”

“I’m just here for the money,” PJ shrugged.

From the end of the table, a tankard of ale crashed down onto the reinforced wooden surface. “You are all prattling idiots.” Hela punctuated the insult by loudly burping before reclining back into her chair. “Where is my payment for operating that bar so efficiently?”

“You mean your blackmail?” Karl Jak laughed as he reached under the conference table and picked up a trio of briefcases. “Here,” he replied as he tossed one to each character. “Personally counted by yours truly.”

“Do I have to share this with B?” Seventeen asked.

“You have a B in your life too?” PJ chuckled.

“I also have a ‘B’,” Hela interrupted as she grabbed the case. “Her name is Rominia. Nice coat. Sheds a little too much though,” she concluded before losing herself in a fit of laughter.

“Isn’t this adorable,” Karl Jak spoke from the head of the table. “Doesn’t this just feel natural, folks? Like we’re all one big, happy family.”

“I’m fairly positive that I hate you,” Hela deadpanned from the other end of the table.

Karl scowled. “Hush, gender-bent sorcerer. You’re just jealous you came to the party late.”

Hela frowned. “I could break you in half, you court jester.”

“Do you flirt this way with everyone?” Karl asked as the two others started to chuckle. A necrosword whizzed across the conference table before poofing out of existence a few yards from a now laughing Karl Jak. “I am a literal cosmic space god, Girl. Relax and drink your beer.”

Hela, more startled than upset, leaned forward and stared at the executive producer. “Where?”

“We’re in Syntech Main… you’re not that drunk.”

“That power. I need it.”

“You still got a couple hundred thousand more words to go, Ma’am. And something tells me these two will slow you down.”

Seventeen tilted his head. “Hey, I don’t know angry lady over there,” he remarked. “I’m on Erde.”

“Yes, and I preferred you when you were science-fiction themed,” Karl Jak retorted.

Hela had settled back into her chair—a heavy scowl on her face as she gulped from her tankard. “I will have that power.”

Karl chuckled. “In another world, I once knew this little red fellow who got pretty close.”

“What happened to him?” PJ inquired as she sipped the soda.

“His world had grown rotten at its core, and the saline content, festering over the years, eventually tore it apart.”

“Sounds terrible,” the older soldier replied.

“Quite,” Karl Jak shot back. “But I want to say he’s probably around here somewhere. You can never keep a good character down for long, you know.”

“I feel like I do know,” PJ muttered before staring off into her fizzy drink.

“Yes, of course you know,” Karl snickered.

“When do I get to leave here?” Hela interjected. “I have a sick child to take care of.”

“The one you transferred from our state-of-the-art facilities?”

“Did I ask for your opinion?”

Karl tittered as he finished his glass of wine. “Of course not. I recommend you visit our gift shop on your way out, though. I’m sure you will find plenty of excellent reading material to share with your… child.” Sitting back, he smiled to each of his guests. “I’m sure that we’ll all be seeing each other sooner rather than latter, but for now, we best bid adieu

Hela sneered in response as the room fell into silence, with the only interruption being the intermittent slurping sounds of PJ and Seventeen as they finished their small jugs of soda.
 

Karl Jak

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The board room had emptied of what was obviously the best assortment of characters Karl Jak had ever had drinks with, and in their place, a gilded blowhard sat at the far end of the table.

“I’m here,” Gilgamesh sneered. “You had me waiting for hours just so you could talk with those blowhards?”

Karl chuckled. “One of them was your friend… you remember that, right?”

Gilgamesh threw his head back in a haughty laugh. “Her feelings won’t be hurt. She’d make fun of me if the opportunity arose.”

“She did… at least sixteen times,” Karl smiled as he reached under the desk and grabbed a briefcase with golden trim on the edges. Placing it on the table, he pushed it across to Gilgamesh, who popped it open and grinned at the shiny, golden championship belt that lay within.

“Nice bauble for the mantle,” he remarked as he looked back up at Karl. “Where’s the real gold? And the weapons of mass destruction.”

Karl took a sip from his wine glass as he crossed his legs. “My dear Gilly… did you not read the wording on that contract you signed when we paid for part of that city of yours?”

Gilgamesh frowned. “Yes, I have your garish adverstiments and signage, as was outlined in the terms.”

“No. The fine print.”

The king tilted his head as Karl grabbed a fat contract and pushed it down the table. A beat later, the producer rolled a magnifying lens down into Gilgamesh’s hand. “Page 46. Section IX. Subsection B. Annotation Delta. Let me know when you find it.”

It took the blonde a few moments of sifting through the papers before he found the section. “As per this agreement, all future earnings by Syntech-sponsored participants in seasons of Dante’s Abyss will be null and void.” Gilgamesh glanced up from the paper. “What is this treachery?”

Karl gasped as he placed a hand over his heart. “Read more.”

Gilgamesh looked down. “Unless the entrants waive their ‘Syntech-protection status’ at registration.”

The man in the purple suit chuckled. “You didn’t read the registration document, so you didn’t waive those clauses.”

“Those damn papers are always the same!”

“You offend my legal team,” Karl laughed. “It’s okay, Gilgamesh, your earnings will go to a good cause. We’re going to make several hundred donations to orphanages, free clinics, environmental agencies, and urban development projects across the Crossroads. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be the next big philanthropist of the Crossroads! Isn’t that beautiful?”

“I hate you,” Gilgamesh said with a scowl as he crossed his arms over his chest like an overgrown child.

“Love you too,” Karl tittered. “More ale?”

“Yes. Make it three,” Gilgamesh grumbled as he popped open the briefcase and distracted himself by staring at his shiny prize (his only prize).
 

Karl Jak

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Karl had retired back to the underground complex that lay beneath Syntech Main. Elsewhere in the facility, other Karls were busy overseeing the gradual shuttering of the Convention Facility and the exodus of all the Comet’s many visitors. More Karls were executing ‘clean up’ protocols on the Conquest landmass to ensure that anyone who was still alive could be relocated elsewhere in the Crossroads. Once that operation was finished, they’d be discarding the landmass into the system’s star, because the last thing Karl needed was a rehash of ‘infected planetoid tries to eat its visitors.’ If he wanted any of that, he could visit the Syntech video library.

“Are you certain that you don’t want to preserve the rock?” Kevin asked. “Our science department could likely still benefit from core samples.”

“They’ve had two years to play with it,” Karl replied as he looked at a large screen that displayed the landmass from its faux orbit. “We have enough data. Throw that thing into the sun, because the last thing we need is another episode of the unmade once again almost taking over the place.”

Kevin adjusted his glasses before turning his eyes down to his tablet. After a few screen taps, he glanced back up at his boss and nodded his head. “Scheduled for three days from now. That should be enough time to evacuate the remaining non-combatants, collect the organic samples, and hook up the relocators.”

“CC me on all the important office correspondence,” Karl replied as he gestured for Kevin to follow him toward the other side of the room. “How’s the project proceeding?” He asked as he scanned his keycard at the reader and waited for the pneumatic doors to pop open. Once he was over the threshold, the overhead lights of the laboratory complex gradually clicked on—beginning just over the heads of the two men and extending down the football field-sized chamber. As each row of lights turned on, they cast a pale glow over the innumerable collection of stasis tubes that lined both walls of the room.

“Isn’t it just wonderful, Kevin?” Karl Jak laughed as he walked over to the nearest tube and placed a hand on the glass. On the other side, suspended in a bluish liquid and hooked up to a plethora of tubes and monitoring devices, was one from a veritable horde of ‘Über Jasons’ cooked up in one of Syntech’s various R&D sub-departments. “Has the new variables and data been uploaded to this batch?”

“Those processes are running as we speak, Sir,” Kevin remarked as he turned the tablet around to let his boss see the progress screen. “And, if I must say, Sir, it was a masterstroke to use the losers from the contest as a means to gather more combat data.”

“Well,” Karl chuckled as he stepped away from the tube. “As we both know, I didn’t expect just three contests there.”

“Yes, the Gilgamesh betrayal put up lots of numbers on social media throughout the whole event,” Kevin remarked as he once again flashed his boss the charts. “Did you know the number one trend on MulTwitter has been #GoldIsGood? Those leaks you did about all of those ‘donations’ by Gilgamesh really seemed to have been cobbled up by most Crossroads news networks. I heard Scrooge McDuck even issued a public statement applauding the ‘Philanthropic King of Uruk’.”

Karl chuckled as he tapped a finger to the side of his head. “Isn’t he just such a model citizen, Kevin? Truly a shining star about how Dante’s Abyss is a powerful platform that can influence lives.”

Kevin smiled faintly. “And here I thought you just liked to watch him squirm.”

“Can I not have my cake and eat it too, Kevin?”

“You DA Boss, Sir, so I guess you can.”

“That’s the attitude, Kevin.”

***​

Roughly thirty minutes later, Karl Jak stood outside his office. “When will the latest X-Series be ready for deployment, Kevin?”

The redhead’s features twisted up for a few brief moments as he fished out some emails and documents on his tablet. “Uhhh… four days, Mr. Jak. That should be enough time to update the firmware, download the newest data, and ensure that they’re structurally sound and properly responding to the guidance programs. R&D recommends a trial run.”

“Trial runs bore me,” Karl groaned. “CC me on the report and include your annotations, if you please.”

“Of course,” Kevin replied. “Anything else, Mr. Jak?”

“Go have some drinks with the rest of your team, Kevin,” Karl answered. “I want to take some time to myself before I attend the afterparty.”

“Understood. Take care and see you later, Sir!”

Karl simply nodded and shooed away Kevin as he slid open his door and vanished into his office. Making his way to his desk, the CEO slumped down into the oversized chair and let out a sigh.

“Well, we did it.” He spoke as he rubbed his temples for a few moments. “Didn’t quite play out how we expected it to, but then again, very little has over the last few years, am I right?”

Setting his hands on the desk, Karl scowled. “Wait, you have nothing to say? You usually always have a quip,” he muttered as he twisted his chair and frowned at the bronzed head with the pike jabbed through it that decorated the left corner of his oversized desk. “Come now, Mr. Witt, you go coy on me? So sad.” Karl poked Mirage’s decapitated head in the nose and smiled.

“The house always wins, Mr. Witt.”
 
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