Intergalactic conquest with an AI

He appeared relaxed, or at least, as relaxed as someone in his position could be. His humanoid octopus form stood tall, his skin an iridescent blue that reflected the ambient light. He held a glass of some expensive-looking liquor in one hand, swirling it absentmindedly as he gazed out over the city.

Kneeling before him was a woman, her head bowed as she performed a degrading service at his crotch. He showed no interest in her other than as a fleeting distraction, his focus entirely on the glowing cityscape before him.

The silence in the room was broken by the sound of the office doors sliding open. A guard clad in pitch-black power armor stepped inside, his heavy boots clanking softly against the floor. He immediately brought a hand to his chest, bowing in respect.

The CEO didn't bother turning around, nor did he show any concern for the situation he was caught in. His voice was cold, detached. "Is it done?"

"My lord," the guard replied, his tone formal and steady, "we have confirmed the destruction of the cruiser where your wife was located. However..." He hesitated briefly before continuing. "We have lost contact with our biological weapon."

The CEO paused for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the skyline. He slowly raised the glass to his lips, taking a sip of the amber liquid.

"I see," he said, his tone betraying neither anger nor surprise. "That weapon was experimental. I suppose it was always a risk to unleash it on such a chaotic battlefield."

The guard remained silent, awaiting further instructions.

"Still," the executive continued, finally turning around to face the guard. His glowing yellow eyes locked onto the armored figure with an unsettling intensity. "I expect you to recover whatever remains of it. Whether it's data, tissue samples, or fragments of its core, I want everything."

"Yes, my lord," the guard said, bowing his head further.

The executive's gaze shifted briefly to the woman still kneeling before him, her movements faltering as the conversation continued. He let out a faint sigh of irritation. "And get her out of here," he added dismissively, gesturing toward her with his free hand. "She's served her purpose."

"At once, my lord," the guard replied, signaling for another soldier outside the door to escort the woman out.

As the door closed behind them, the executive turned back to the cityscape, his mind already racing with plans. The loss of the biological weapon was a setback, but it wasn't the end. If anything, this was just the beginning.

The CEO sighed as he settled into the sleek, custom-made chair behind his enormous desk. The panoramic view of the glowing city behind him only added to the ominous ambiance of his high-tech office.

With a flick of his wrist, a holographic keyboard materialized in front of him. His fingers moved swiftly, inputting a complex password that caused the air in the room to shimmer.

Four 4D holographic images began constructing themselves, forming into the shapes of four individuals who now appeared as lifelike projections within the room. Each one carried an air of power, their presences undeniable despite being nothing more than digital renderings.

"Gentlemen," the CEO began smoothly, swirling his glass of liquor before taking a casual sip. "While the operation to eliminate Sharon was a success on the surface, I cannot confidently say that she is truly dead."

One of the holograms, a burly man with a scar running down his face, slammed his fist on what would have been Percival's desk. The sound of his rage reverberated through the holographic projection as though it were real.

"What!?" he bellowed. "Don't joke with me, Percival! We supported this plan of yours because you swore it was foolproof! What kind of excuse do you have now!?"

Percival, unfazed by the outburst, leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette with a flick of his gold-plated lighter. He exhaled a stream of smoke, his calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the seething hologram in front of him.

"Oh, please," he said lazily, waving the cigarette like a conductor's baton. "Let's not make a big drama out of this. The alliance between me, you, and the four viceroys isn't so fragile that it'll crumble over one minor setback."

"Minor setback!?" Another hologram, this one a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a sharp suit, interjected, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"This isn't just some small inconvenience, Percival. Sharon is the only daughter of that old viceroy who happens to be a Tier 7 powerhouse! Do you have any idea what that means? We cannot afford even the slightest risk of failure."

Percival smirked, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "So what if he's a Tier 7 powerhouse?" he retorted, his voice low and sharp. "I'm also a Tier 7 powerhouse. If it comes to a clash, I'll show him that his age doesn't make him invincible."

In a sudden display of petulance, Percival hurled his wine glass toward the middle-aged hologram. The glass passed harmlessly through the projection, shattering against the wall behind it.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"So what if you're a Tier 7 powerhouse, Percival!?" A new voice interjected sharply. This time, it was feminine, belonging to a woman in the third hologram. Her holographic form leaned forward, her tone scathing.

"Are you so drunk on your own power that you've lost all sense of reason? If you and that old man clash, our company's power will collapse! And do you think the other megacorps will sit idly by? They're sharks, Percival. Sharks are waiting for blood. If we show even a hint of weakness, they'll tear us apart."

Percival raised his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk on his face never left. "Oh, please forgive me, my lady," he said with exaggerated politeness. "I was merely a bit... agitated by the situation. But I'm calm now."

He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke in deliberate, swirling rings. "Here's what we'll do: we'll send a recovery team to the crash site of the cruiser. They'll search for evidence, remnants of Sharon, DNA, anything we can use. If she's still alive, we'll make sure she doesn't stay that way for long."

"Hmph! You'd better fix your mistake, Percival," the middle-aged man snapped, his tone icy as his hologram began to flicker and fade. "If this comes back to bite us, you'll be the one answering for it."

The other two holograms nodded in agreement before disappearing as well, leaving the room silent, except for the fourth hologram.

This one didn't carry the same air of cold authority as the others. The figure was a woman, her holographic form radiating a sickly warmth. Her voice was syrupy sweet, with an unsettling undertone that sent shivers down the spine.

"Don't listen to them, honey," she cooed, tilting her head slightly as her holographic hand reached toward Percival as if to stroke his cheek. "They're just a bunch of annoying old men and grannies, always whining about this and that."

Percival's smirk softened into something resembling a creepy, boyish grin. "I know, Mom. Don't worry," he said, his voice disturbingly cheerful. "I'll take care of it. I'll make you proud."

The woman's hologram giggled, a sound that was as unsettling as it was out of place. "Aww, that's my little Perci! Mommy's so proud of you already." Her tone turned almost sing-song. "And guess what? Mommy's bringing you lots of love soon. I've even bought some new slaves for you to play with."

Percival's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light. "I can't wait, Mommy."

The woman's hologram blew him a kiss before fading away, leaving Percival alone in the dimly lit office. The cigarette in his hand burned down to its last embers as he leaned back in his chair, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

He tapped a few more commands into the holographic keyboard, sending orders to his subordinates to begin the recovery operation. His gaze shifted to the neon-lit city outside, his reflection in the glass twisted into a sinister smile.

"Sharon," he muttered to himself, his voice low and venomous. "If you're still out there... I'll make sure you regret it."

And with that, Percival leaned forward, ready to orchestrate the next move in his dark, twisted game.

Meanwhile, Carlos, who had chosen to stay behind with the humans to oversee Ys's treatment by their medical teams, wandered through the halls of the cruiser.

Though the situation was tense, Carlos was always someone who could find a way to relax or, at least, appear to. After making sure Ys was stable, he decided to head toward the hangar bay to get a change of scenery.

The sound of raucous laughter and lively chatter greeted him before he even reached the hangar doors. Pushing them open, he found the source of the noise—a group of pilots, engineers, and technicians gathered near one of the fighter maintenance areas.

Among them, the red leader, the self-proclaimed "Ace of the Human Empire Fighter Squadron," was at the center of attention, holding a drink and basking in the glow of their admiration.

"Hahaha! And that's how I took down my 30th beast down there!" the red leader said with a triumphant grin, raising his drink as the group around him erupted into cheers. "I'm telling you guys, this time it was pretty hard!. I even thought I was gonna die for a second there."

"Hahaha, there's no way that's true, Captain!" one of the younger engineers chimed in, practically bouncing with excitement. "There's no enemy out there who's a better pilot than you! You're the ACE of the Human Empire Fighter Squad!"

"Yeah! That's right, Captain!" another pilot said, raising his own drink in a toast. "You're our ACE! The pride of the fleet!"