V S M That Fawful Pirate

[Ridley]

A shadow appeared beneath the dreadnought - a shadow that had moved from secret tanks hidden within Mesa Roja, a darkness that flew through the void with nary a sound. The massive doors hummed to life, blue shielding popping and crackling in the void - not to Stop the leviathan that now flew through the doors, of course, but to stop the far weaker creatures within from dying to atmospheric decompression.

Within, a line of salutes were made, yet the titan heeded them not, as the creature crashed through the ship with a determined thump to it’s every step.

The Dreadnought’s command crew worked diligently in their stations. The Crew primed navigation systems, readied comms, sent out pre-arranged signals to several buyers, sellers, business partners and diplomats across the void, Powered up weapons and additional systems to standby, all whilst the chief engineer made sure the Afloraltite warp drive was primed to jump at a moment’s notice.

“Get everything perfect! Lord Ridley will arrive in only a moment! And for god’s sakes, Vissix, stop shaking!”

“I’m just n-n-nervous. Ridley is usually in a bad mood after one of these…. These…” The Chief weapons officer whined, only to be cut off by a harsh voice.

“Captain on the Deck!”

Security officer Visigoth strode forward with purpose, opening the door ahead of time, as Ridley’s massive frame strode through the door. The applause was given by every single officer as he arrived.

“Incredible show, sir! Really showed em who the greatest boss in space is” Jervix called out with a crustacean grin.

“You and Lilith really hammered them there~” Comms officer Ratt spoke up.

“Ship ready, sir. On your orders. To move.” Navigations officer Laice spoke up.

“That f-fusion cannon… we should try to steal that, L-lord Ridley!” Vizzix spoke up, as they devolved into various congratulatory babble in their own way.

Ridley held up a talon, glaring at the group, and silencing the crew in one swift motion.

“The ship has yet to go aflame. Does that mean you were unusually competent… or simply too lazy?” Ridley rasped, striding to his throne. Only silence followed, as he sat down in his chair.

“That was a joke. laugh.”

“Ah… ehehehe…. Hahahaha!” the gathered officers began laughing, not so much out of the joke as out of the nervous terror of their lives almost ending being replaced with a giddy level of relief.

“Prep the ship to go to Warp. We head to Inverxe while our little gem project finishes. On my mark.” Ridley continued, looking across the bridge one more time. He was back where he belonged. Not just in the fields, taking blood and ravaging worlds in the flesh.

No, he was the Pirate King. Where he sat, his throne. He was back where he belonged.

 

[Fawful]

Fawful breathed in deep, then exhaled. His breath blossomed into fog as the air hissed between his giant white teeth. He was grinning wide. For why would he not be happy? Adrenaline pumped through his beany veins as he was engaged in combat. Nothing made him happier than the possibility of conquest.

This was tricker, however.

Fawful was hunting what was known to most as a Xenomorph. They were horrible creatures, really. They were vaguely humanoid, but far from human. They had no eyes, seeming to rely mostly on hearing. They had a long protruded head and jagged teeth. Behind them, there was a long, prehensile tail that was sharpened like a giant needle. Quite the prey, but not strong enough for the Warlock King.

Fawful cackled again as another array of plasma bolts shot out of his headgear. They scattered across the Xenomorph’s armor. The Xenomorph hissed and roared in response, lunging at Fawful. But Fawful was just out of reach, flying high in the air. Fawful continued to soar in a circle, strafing the Xenomorph as he covered the beast in balls of plasma. The Xenomorph was starting to leak green blood, which steamed fascinatingly against the snow.

“Eeyah hah hah hah!” Fawful laughed, “Still some fight in you, I see! Best not get too close.”

The Xenomorph roared again, revealing a tinier head with teeth inside. He lunged much further than he did before, fully tackling Fawful out of the air.

“Fink-rat!” Fawful snarled as he rolled away on the ground. The headgear got mangled in the tussle, and the Xenomorph tossed it aside.

“Drat,” Fawful said, “Very well. Now is when I ram you!”

Fawful flung himself into a combat roll, bumping uselessly against the Xenomorph’s knee.

“Fink-rat,” Fawful repeated, repeatedly and uselessly kicking the Xenomorph.

The Xenomorph picked up Fawful with hardly any effort, gripping him tightly with its claws. Its second internal head started to extend out menacingly.

“Headgear?” Fawful cackled.

There was another blast from the mangled headgear, and it shot straight through the Xenomorph’s chest. There was a gaping hole where its torso used to be, dripping with green blood. Fawful spat in disgust as his cloak caught some of the green blood.

Fawful fell on the ground as the Xenomorph dropped it. The alien collapsed on the ground in a crumple. Fawful watched with disdain as his already ragged cloak grew more holes from the blood.

“Acidic blood,” Fawful scoffed, “It burns like too many chili peppers in an already spicy curry.”

Fawful looked off into the distance. He needed to fix his headgear, then collect some of this acid. There must be a nest of some sort where these things were being bred. He would be in immaculate danger.

No, he was the Warlock King. Where he roamed, his domain. He would find where he belonged.

 

[Ridley]

“You have my grocery list ready, right, Lord Ridley?” Olivia’s voice chirped through the comm-bead, and Ridley’s slitted eyes narrowed into a glare, examining the chitinous installations layered across his being.. To fend off the xenomorph’s acid, it fell to Ridley to install certain equipment into his frame, Including a sheathing for his talons and a helmet to protect his face from the vile substance. Though his kill team lacked these armaments, the power of laser blasters and good sense would have to do for the group as they moved forward - with the exception of the VIP of this run.

“So, we just gotta wrestle down a girl xenomorph, then bring ‘er home, and the boy xenomorphs’ll see she’s pretty and stop fightin’ us?” Flak Called out, smashing his metal-clad fists together.

Ridley growled at the statement. The Army general was a potent asset and held the key to an easy victory should they be overwhelmed with his advanced prototype - but he was also unfailingly annoying and stupid. As he mingled with the men and exchanged all manner of stupid jokes he wasn’t even certain the brute got himself, his mood was worsened by the distressing realization that his regular infantry were not much smarter themselves.

He was surrounded by idiots.

“We have the tools. Just lead us, Olivia. Time is not on our side!” Ridley snapped. The Beast stomped forward as Ridley’s tail lashed from side to side, talons digging into Inverxe’s craggy earth as he passed no small amount of withered plant life. The unmaking had clearly been there - he and his men already having encountered a few unmade necromorphs and zerg working in perfect concert with each other. It was only a matter of time before this nest was spoiled as well by Rose Quartz’s unnatural power, and he had no intention of losing his quarry to some spoiled gemstone in Darkseid’s personal collection.

“Alright. I’m noting a set of xenomorph signals further in. As well as some signs of the unmade and… hmm. Something else. Unknown humanoid life signals, but they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen… if it’s something interesting, bring it up here for me, will you?”

Ridley snorted. “Keep focused on the job here, doctor. You’ve already been spoiled recently.” The wyrm chided. That gemstone had been anything but easy to get, to say nothing of the job already being a recovered xenomorph queen.

“Poo!... Still, be careful, Ridley. They seem to be headed towards the Xenomorphs, instead of away, like most of the sane population.”

Ridley pondered that. Someone unaware, well-armed, suicidal, or just very stupid. A host of potential complications might arise from their unexpected guest’s intrusion on the scene, and the dragon tilted his head before… sniffing. Once, twice, then thrice.

He was surprised, yet not amused, at what he smelled.

“Find anything?” Flak asked.

Ridley’s eyes narrowed to an intense glare, unable to fathom what he smelled.

“The scent of… beans.”

Flak stared for a moment into Ridley’s eyes.

“...What?”

 

[Fawful]

Fawful the Terrible, the Warlock King, cackled madly, clearly frightened.

“Erm-hrm,” he grumbled, “Perhaps I was a tad overzealous…?”

By his count, about three Xenomorphs were approaching him, but there were plenty more in the back, waiting to pounce on Fawful. His headgear crackled with static electricity - Fawful didn’t need to be a master engineer to realize that it was falling apart. Of course, he was a master engineer.

But he was also a mage.

Fawful felt the tingle of a whisper in the back of his head.

“Listen…”

Fawful backed up against a wall, eyeing the Xenomorphs.

“Y-yes?”

“You can hear me…”

“Yes. I can hear you.”

“Such… magnificence… awaits us…”

“Who are you?”

“Grab my haft… We will unleash great furies…”

It was at this moment that Fawful noticed a glint in the webbing behind him. Fawful scrambled over and snatched at it.

It was a beautiful dagger. All told, it was in the shape of an S - the blade was curved upwards, almost like the talon of a large predator. There were some sort of glowing blue runes carved into the blade itself that shone in the darkness of the caverns. The crossguard itself was also a blade with four equidistant spikes. At the top of the hilt was a slitted eye. Fawful could’ve sworn it moved.

For a moment, Fawful knew what it meant to love.

“Yesss…” the voice whispered, “Do you feel the power coursing through you?”

Fawful chortled contentedly. “Yes.”

“Now… go forth and destroy those who oppose us.”

Fawful chortled and lifted the dagger above his head. The Xenomorphs looked at each other, puzzled at the Beanish madman, before one dared to pounce with its lance-like tail.

Fawful responded by slamming the dagger into the ground. It released a burst of purple fog that blasted all the Xenomorphs back, tumbling over their tails and clawed limbs. The Xenomorphs hiss-snarled and started charging at the invader, who had suddenly found the urge to fight. Fawful cackled, raising his hand and pointing his hands at the beasts. One by one, they started to crumble to their knees, gripping their heads.

“YeHAHAHAHAHA!” Fawful guffawed, “This power is befitting of me, Fawful! The WARLOCK KING!”

Fawful stabbed one of the writhing bodies of the Xenomorphs with the dagger. He knew without knowing the blade was called Xal’atath, and that it did not like being used to stab. But Fawful cared not. He yanked the blade out and licked the acidic blood off of it in the heat of the moment.

“Agh. AGH!” Fawful gagged as he spit out the blood. “That burns like so much horseradish. AGH! I regret my decision.”

“Beware…”

Fawful lifted Xal’atath to his ear. “Yes?”

“There is… another…”

“Ah, the leader of the Xenomorphs, eh?” Fawful chortled, “Anyone else?”

“I detect no other sentient life forms…”

“Nobody else? Surely there’s at least ONE more creature out there.”

“None…”

Elsewhere, Flak rubbed out his ear.

“Very well. Time to meet this threat head-on! I have FURY! YAHAHAHAHA!”

 

[Ridley]

“Gwah! Lord Ridley!” Flak’s oafish voice cried out through the caverns.

The Dragon turned one eye towards Flak, still focused on the xenomorphs ahead. Bits of acid still sat upon his tail, and he finally flicked the burning nuisance away after several flits of his tail. He brought his wings closer as he tried to identify his general’s distress…

Only to be disgusted by an orange-yellow cone of biological material.

“That was in my ear, man!” Flak swore, holding the mass of wax up and shaking it violently, as though this would somehow change Ridley’s opinion on it.

A low growl and a turn away was Flak’s only answer as they started to head further into the caverns, a honeycomb of twisting caverns that Ridley needed to fully concentrate on moving through in order to properly navigate. He planned to follow the scent of this creature to it’s origins, but the strange air in the caverns of Inverxe caused scent to waft to and fro, and with the small holes present in the passages here,

It was only a few moments before Flak yelled out for Lord Ridley again and it took a reminder to himself both that Flak was valuable and extraordinarily difficult to kill that kept Ridley’s murderous urge in check.

“Ridley! Lord Rids!”
Ridley’s teeth grinded as he gave a low growl in acknowledgement. If Flak understood how close he was to the verge of death, his large grin and exaggerated wave didn’t show it as he called out, before pointing to the right.

“Lookit this green dude!”

The Space Dragon’s eyes flitted back, and rage filled him - not rage at the creature, but rage that Flak, his general, was completely correct. It appeared the eyes of a moron were more useful than the nose of a genius in this maddening set of caverns.

The Green creature was already charging him, the gibberings of a madman spilling forth.

“Taste now the Gluttonous discharge of Regicide! I am now being the instrument of your DOOM!”

“Eyy Rids! Look at how funny this green guy talks!” Flak responded with a giggle, coming closer as he poked at the top of the helmet - a tooth-filled top that immediately leapt down and took a bite on Flak’s head, the brute struggling to pull it off the steel of his own helmet.

“Ow-hey-Stoppit that hurts!”

“I am having no time for Fink-rats who’s heads have such pointiness! Your speaking will be when spoken to!” The green creature spoke up, the Toothy helmet holding Flak’s face in a deadly vise.

Ridley’s eyes narrowed at the small, fat bean of a humanoid. For all his criticisms of Flak, there appeared to be far worse conversational partners he could have had in this universe.

The creatures’ bizarre robotic headwear threw Flak into a nearby wall, and the WYVERN general fell still and silent.

Ridley would have to consider cutting his pay, later. For now, he crept onto all fours, approaching the creature with narrowed eyes.

“You will be doing the bowing to Fawful now.”

Ridley’s response was a sharp grin, flaring his wings as the creature’s headgear powered up. Fawful blasted backwards with a cackle as his jump packs ignited, firing a pair of Plasma blasts at his larger opponent as he circled the large upper area of the cave, intending to utilize aerial superiority to overwhelm his opponent.

Ridley responded with a primal roar, plasma bursting from his maw and overwhelming the feeble blast of plasma, before flapping his wings, sending a burst of wind that sent his surprised opponent flying, slamming into the cavern wall with his headgear sent clattering off to the side.

The Violet beast’s fire still burned in the scattered darkness of the caverns, leaving a pale orange light as flames danced among the moist fungus set alight. He stepped forward with a slow, purposeful gait, as the little bean man tried to scurry farther back on battered knees. He must have already been on his last legs, Ridley decided on seeing his injuries. Or, perhaps his kind was merely that fragile.

The Dragon’s tail glinted in the light, ready to skewer the worthless vegetable through the chest.

“Kneel.” Ridley spat, his draconic voice shocking the beanish creature as he dragged himself to his feet, his cracked glasses neatly mirroring his beaten condition, his knees shaking under his own weight as blood spilled from behind his teeth.

Instead of a look of submission, though, the creature’s grin widened, as a cruel dagger Ridley had not seen him holding before slipped to his hands.

“Not while we have Fury!” the beanish cackled, as he struck with a vigor that surprised the dragon.

The knife moved quickly - too quickly - and a dark aura erupted around fawful. A surprised shriek escaped Ridley’s jaws as the Enchanted blade dug deep, and his mind raced to the dark magic he had once employed as part of the unmaking.

The creature seemed to stand straighter now, his wounds mending as he cackled mightily. Dimly, Ridley realized he was being used as a conduit to heal the little creature.

“Now is the time when the oafish tyrant’s cockiness becomes the seasoning on the burger of my come-back!”

Fawful cackled, advancing on the wounded dragon, who’s eyes narrowed in preparation for a fight.

Fawful stepped forward, cackling, as the blood dripped from his knife, hand raised for another slice…

And face suddenly and firmly smushed with a massive, meaty fist. Fawful screamed as Flak’s bowling balls for fists added another concussion to Fawful’s considerable tally, the beanish sent flying like a pin-ball.

“At least I know which way the words go you shrimpy little nerd!”

Fawful’s response was merely a crushed sigh of pain and exhaustion, as the beanish lost consciousness, ass up in the dirt.

Ridley’s eyes caught Flak’s smug stance at attention. Perhaps he might need to increase Flak’s pay-cheque, after all.