Of Arbiters and Arbitration (unmaking quest)

[Ridley]

The hot sun beat off Ridley’s carapace with a pleasant warmth. The stifling, dry, arid air of the desert would have been unappealing to the average human, but Ridley was nothing approaching average or human. To him, the desert air tasted of freedom and open space.

The unmaking that had left him without his wings had left him unable to truly taste the world held only to an elite few, and as the Raptor soared through the air with regrown wings, he relished the feeling of the wind sweeping past him, the scream of the air as he tore through it at high speeds. If Ridley had been a more sentimental creature, he would have wasted his time with some acrobatics, simply enjoying the feeling of traversing the air.

But Ridley the Space Pirate General was going to be trapped as Ridley the Leader of No One and Nothing - save a small scientist with a crippling caffeine addiction.

No, Ridley was destined to rule as pirate king once more. And he would not obtain his fortune by standing in the still desert air. The Dragon gave an errant sniff, enjoying the hot desert air, before turning his eyes to a familiar scent.

The faintest hints of the corroded metal and disgusting corpses unearthed and shown the air again lead him back to the Vault - The Xenomorph hive that had nearly claimed Ridley’s hive, and the current, temporary lab of one Olivia Octavius.

---

The trip down through to the vault was as desolate as Ridley remembered it. The long tunnel opened as he put in the familiar access code. The alien face he had discovered as the code to this vault long ago remained the preferred password - it tended to confuse even intelligent humanoids, as Liz had quickly shown. The Pirate General, who’s thoughts tended towards shapes and

The inner vault began to rumble open, and Ridley, rather than waiting for the vault to open, took flight, soaring overhead as he readied his body. The Space pirate’s goal was to confer with the doctor and get an update, but the trip to actually meet her was far down in the vaults below.

Thus, as the doors opened, Ridley waited until he was high in the clouds before swooping down like a hawk, diving as he picked up speed. By the time the vaults were open, Ridley’s mighty form accelerated through the entrance like a violet rocket.

The darkness of the vault around Ridley passed in a flash as the wind warped behind him. It took him only seconds to reach the bottom, and the whistling of the wind through the tunnels created a ghastly wail as Ridley landed like a hurricane in the midst of the hive.

Ridley’s grin widened as he heard the screaming of the wind through the chamber. It announced his return better than the loudest doorbell, and it didn’t take long for the new, pressurized doors of the chamber to open and reveal…

“...What are you wearing?” Ridley asked, lips curling back in disgust as he saw the good Doctor Olivia.

“It’s called being comfortable?” Olivia asked amidst a puffy layer of sweater, fuzzy slippers still showing. “I didn’t know you’d be coming so quickly, and, well, I’m waiting for a few of my projects to develop, so I’ve been enjoying a little intellectual puzzle and figured I didn’t need to be wearing my normal clothing to do so.”

“I thought you found it hot here.”

“I installed a cooling unit, but it’s been a little chilling since I installed it.”

“So turn up the heat.” Ridley snapped.

“Oh, no can do, the new invention I’m testing-”

The Doctor continued to speak, but Ridley’s hearing suddenly started to fade at the same time his vision did, loud tinnitus filling his ears as the room turned temporarily white.

“-dley. Ridley!” The doctor cried, but the Pirate lacked even the strength to answer…

654/2500 words

 

[Ridley]

Ridley’s first grasp at sanity came at the price of waking up to the smell of rotting Xenomorph. “Ventilation…” The great dragon growled.

At the first sign of a word, Olivia appeared without another thought, quick to move. “Oh, good, you’re awake! I was so worried, but after I scanned your brain and found no signs of mental deterioration, I was relieved! But then I realized, y’know, magic’s a thing here and I was back to square one aaaand you probably want me to stop talking, since you just woke up and all.”

Ridley looked back at the doctor with that last statement and produced an indulgent smile. It had taken him only a year, but the training had held.

Olivia gave a shrug and a smile, before asking “So, are we under some sort of attack, Lord Ridley? Or did you contract something?”

The Space Pirate General did not immediately respond, crashing back onto his talons as he craned his neck forward. Did he contract something indeed?

The struggle to maintain his distinct personality, his feral power, under the crushing grip of Darkseid’s might had been one of the most difficult fights in Ridley’s life. Embarrassingly, that battle left him broken underneath the heels of some two-bit fire mage and…

Well, Ridley would bury that memory for now, lest he find himself trapped on a quest for revenge. A destitute pirate with his revenge finally fulfilled was still destitute. Musashi Miyamoto’s head would have to wait until he had the appropriate starship to mount it on.

Nor was it important to his recollection. That knowledge, that feeling burning in his mind at the time had felt… nostalgic. It lent a call to something primal in Ridley’s soul that still boiled. The influx of knowledge, the feeling of purpose, the guidance given by an unseen hand. Ridley knew where to go, now, what he was meant to do and discover, and it felt as though it had been seeded in his own head since the moment of his hatching.

It felt exactly like he had not long ago, when he’d been forced to scratch away his own skin like a giant scab, when he tore at his eyes and ripped at his very bones at the fallen Arbiter’s command. All to humble him to lord Darkseid, reduce him to a plaything of Ash, rotted meat and hatred.

And disgustingly, it had worked.

His hiss of displeasure snapped himself back to reality as Olivia jumped back and the motion startled him to attention - and to sanity. Ridley’s intellect was in full gear now, processing what he knew now, and the thought caused his stomach to gurgle. He bared his teeth, tapping his talons on the floor as the reality of the situation set in.

This was the same irritating tickle, the same loathsome understanding, but it lacked something important. Ridley was still Ridley - whatever or whoever this was, they weren’t corrupting his essence - a choice, then. A deal.

The Arbiter of this world - if it really was the arbiter of this world and not some deceiver - had entrusted this to him, then. He imagined most creatures would be honored.

But the Arbiter had yet to offer anything from it’s side of the table.

He’d had his fill of witlessly serving another under Darkseid. Ridley had no intentions of once again serving the wishes of one of these beings as a mere footstool.

If he chose to face Darkseid, and when the dark titan was made to bow beneath his feet, it would be of Ridley’s own volition, not the local god of a ball of sand screaming in his ear.

“The arbiter of this world has spoken to me. And it’s deals are left wanting…”

“Oh, like the Darkseid guy you worked for on the island?”

Ridley’s eyes turned, pinning at the woman standing underneath him.

“What?! I watched the show. Lord Darkseid. All the unmaking corruption. That incredible piece of engineering you wore to become Meta Ridley? Which, by the way, I have some ideas-”

“Discussions for another moment. Show me the plans later.” Ridley snaps. “The arbiters are pleased to mess with the minds of others. This one wished me to take my revenge.’

“...So why don’t you?”

“Because pirates don’t work for free!”

Liz looks thoughtful at the statement, before giving a nod. “...Yeah, that tracks. So we aren’t going to start a tussle with the unmade?”

“Short of them mounting a full-scale assault on the Vault-”

As though on cosmic cue, a Loud ringing went through the complex.

“Proximity sensors?” Ridley snapped.

“Energy-based sensors, actually. They notice things with high concentrations of energy-” Olivia explained with a smile, looking down to a pad filled with glowing buttons and texts, before looking up and…

“-Oh. He’s already left.”

Olivia sighs, as she takes off her coat, revealing the metal pack underneath. “...I’m going to go put away my slippers before they get destroyed. I can’t have a day without a brawl with the big guy around.” The scientist mentions with a pout… before a large grin crosses her features. “Well, time to give Darkseid a thorough second opinion on his weapon designs!

1526/2500 words

 

[Ridley]

The harbinger of destruction and hatred. The power that could not be tamed or quenched even in defeat. Methuselah had often wondered, since joining the Coven, if Ridley truly understood what he had created. What he had fostered.

Methuselah gave a smile. Those who watched Ridley’s destructive rampage had been emboldened themselves. Before him and the other unmade generals, so many had been unable to see the beauty of being unmade. The glorious destruction and chaos that could be sown. Most of the unmade at Markov had been relatively stupid and single-minded, just tools for Darkseid.

When they saw the commanders, the horror of pennywise, the work of The Urban Lich, or the spark of Snake Lady it truly brought across the sheer beauty unmaking brought with it. In looking to combat The unmaking Karl Jak had made quite the shining recruitment poster for some.

The assault that was to be made on Ridley’s current base of operations was certainly not about to cause him to be unmade, of course. It was just meant to sting and anger. It wouldn’t do to have such an asset sitting within his lair sulking afterwards.


He needed to hate Darkseid as he’d once hated his enemies, for in doing so he’d lead himself back into their loving arms. And once he’d been re-absorbed into the fold they would lead a trail of death that would extinguish the sun.

Samuel took a long, slow sip of his tea. He, like other commanders of his breeding, would not march with the brave sacrifices of his coven, the rank and files standing weapon in hand, ready to take on a beast they had no chance of slaying. As he studied several view-screens, he watched and waited in the distance. It was time they see how much Lord Ridley had grown - or weakened - since his recovery in syntech. If they were lucky, the lack of those blasted collars would allow the dragon to stretch his wings.

As the explosives went off, and the vault was exposed to the sun, he raised his cup in reverence.

“To Lord Darkseid.”

1,877/2,500 words

 

[Ridley]

Ridley stood stock-still, waiting for his newest challengers to come. He’d crouched down here, in the darkness of the caves, with a profoundly terrible mood brewing in his soul. Hatred and anger swirled.

The familiar pang of hatred against Darkseid, and everything he’d twisted the dragon into.

A new disgust for the arbiters of this world, trying to hire Ridley.

The utterly insulting smell of these plain and simplistic cultists trying to kill him, lord Ridley!

And most of all, the understanding that here, Darkseid and the Arbiters were the powers that be, going unchallenged.

It made Ridley want to vomit. False thrones made for false gods. The Power of the crossroads, this accursed hell, had been made bare for Ridley, and part of him wanted to burn it all down for it’s rancid stagnancy.

Most of all, though, Ridley hated the knowledge that in the midst of this power struggle, this epic little stratagem, his own foresight had left him a pawn in Darkseid’s games. He was no King, but simply a harbinger of Darkseid’s will. A shadow, handed whatever pawns he had to spare.

For what was the sulking dragon but a simple basement dweller with a scientist building arms for an army he had not yet assembled?

He had been burned, engulfed in flame, and after licking his wounds, he had spent his time - searching. Looking. Trying to find the one who had caused those problems.

the hunter.

But there were more hunters here, more he needed to crush, and he left the Island without the skulls of Flynn Taggart or Musashi Miyamoto. He’d been forced to rely on incompetent troops, terrible equipment, and eldritch forces he controlled only through force of will, not true camaraderie.

Ridley had let his obsession distract him from his true place. Samus was gone. She likely didn’t have access to the arbiter’s slice of heaven, for if she had, Ridley would already have seen evidence of her coming. There was no final battle that would prove his strength, his victory.

But there did not need to be. Samus had taken nothing from him. He was just as vicious, just as quick, just as cunning as ever. Ridley was more than some bounty hunter’s foil - he was the space pirate king! A leader! A conqueror! A commander that was feared and hated by the federation for forty years!

The Arbiter had tried to draft him against Darkseid, but this war was not waged in her name, nor any of the Stagnant arbiters. Ridley would use his power for his own sake, turn the crossroads on his head, and teach these fools who chose to see him as a pawn that Lord Ridley was no game piece!

He was the shark at the table, and it was time to show them his real hand.

---

High inquisitor Ananias turned to the rest of the cultists with a smile. The plan was simple - they were to infiltrate Lord Ridley’s base, obtain him, and then bring him back to the Great Eagle of Omega, that he would be unmade just as planned. Lord Darkseid had commanded, he knew, and as Lord Darkseid wished, so he would have.

Ananias gave a silent grin as he motioned to his team to get moving. Their execution would have to be quick, coordinated, and silent, he knew. Sister Sapphira worked hard to gain them enough intel to know of Ridley’s sleeping chamber, and the suits they’d built would shield them from Miss Octavia’s relatively simplistic alarm systems.

They’d all been issued form-fitting black suits that would shield them from even the dragon’s gaze until they were all in position. Their pneumatic Spearguns had been enchanted with magics that would set the great general into a blissful sleep. Within the night, Lord Ridley would be theirs, and on the way back to his rightful position as Lord Darkseid’s right hand.

“C4 charges ready?” Ananias asked, looking back to the rest of his team with the calm, assured smile of a veteran of a dozen missions.

He looked back just in time to see a horror scene. A tail flicked from the darkness and sliced the heads from all eight of his team members in one smooth motion, missing only his head.

Brother Ananias’s confidence died in his throat as he looked up. How had Lord Ridley seen them. They’d been assured the magical concealment would keep them hidden from his sight at night…

The Veteran cultist noticed it, then. The faint motions of his nose as he sniffed the air, flicking his tongue.

“I missed one.”

“L-lord Ridley. We’re here to… bring you back to the fold!” The Cultist managed, hoping, pleading that this was just one of Darkseid’s tests. He would have to bring back the dragon, or not come back at all, he reasoned, but there was no real need for it to be a fatal trip.

“Fold?” the Dragon’s response came back, and Brother Ananias’s muscled body was Suddenly grabbed and pinned to the floor as easily as a ripe banana.

“...Y-yes. As one of Darkseid’s generals-”

Ananias let out a scream as pain shot through his spine. “Y-you’re…” the cultist mouthed, as Ridley’s talons folded about his midsection.

“Then show me… Exactly how you fold.”

The Cultist tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, as the pirate bent his newest acquisition’s torso backwards.

The pain mounted, second by second, before reaching a crescendo as the Beast finally pushed his spine to it’s limit and the disks of his spine snapped like a twig, one after the other.

“When I finally let you die, Hope against hope that Darkseid has more pity for your pathetic carcass than I do.” Ridley growled….

Brother Ananias lacked the words to speak, but as the last excruciating moments of his life flashed before him, as his ribs finally cracked out of their place in his body and his organs fell from their places, he supposed, in his last instance of conscious thoughts, that Lord Ridley had given him pretty good advice.

2,897/2,500. Quest completed!