In a Galaxy far, far away; time is being shredded, and the Universe on the whole isn’t happy about it, but minds immeasurably superior to ours, slowly and patiently; drew up their plans against us, and the impending catastrophe.
The self-appointed Council of time: discovered that timely abominations were placed in the corrupted time lines, and by persons unknown.
The Cause was Unknown.
The Reasons were Unknown.
Even God doesn’t know why it was done.
Recruiting the recently deceased, who insisted they weren’t dead, the planners of our salvation then put a young girl in charge of the recovery Project to retrieve the Relics.
The girl’s name was Romana who was only 128 years old, and this was her first mission outside her own time line, but she was the most qualified person they could find.
What could possibly go wrong?
In the Library.
Romana read the mission briefing papers for the umpteenth time and knew them off by heart now, but was feeling very nervous.
… She had *never* been personally involved with the (Barbarians) before, and the Neanderthals from this age: certainly rated high on the score board of what her society considered, backward folk.
A deep resonating boom echoed through the room she was in and it broke her concentration for a second as it threw her slightly forward.
Sighing deeply, she knew it was just the bombs going off.
Regaining her stance, the weary woman once again looked at the papers in her hand, and re-read paragraph fifteen again with a scowl on her face.
She didn’t like it: not one little bit.
Looking round, Romana considered that the primates from this time line were so predictable! – That’s how they could trap them so easily. She knew that any minute now: They’ll come running in here in a state of total panic.
Like trapped animals looking for an escape route.
But there wasn’t one.
There would be no escape for any of them.
Her smile turned into a cruel grimace as she reflected that their miserable lives were about to turned inside out, and in here: they would be hers to do with as she pleased.
Coming out from her reverie, she glanced sideways at the huge silver sphere she was standing next to. The sphere, slowly revolving in its silver lattice stand: buzzed lightly.
Romana frowned, and looked down at the sheets in her hand, then nodded to herself at its suggestion. Reaching back she placed them discreetly behind the rostrum, saying as she did. “Yes: it wouldn’t give the right impression to be seen with them. For this to work: I must be seen to be strong, I must dominate them from the outset.” Looking round at the ball as it buzzed again, she smiled at it and said. “No, they are only animals: they will be easy to train.”
Turning back round, she waited patiently; but was eager for God’s glorious Mission to begin.
In the other [Place].
The Overlord shaking with fury read the reports: it had started, and they’d missed their window of opportunity to stop it before it had even began.
Growling, the most powerful being on Earth raged in anger. Physically spitting out its rage, the enraged royal personage crumpled up the paper in the royal hand, then taking careful aim; threw it at the runner who had brought the news.
The seething royal being considered that they’d been wrong footed yet again by that wasp of a boy, and his latrine ridden sons.
With that, the royal fist slammed down on the thrown, and the words echo round the vast room. “Someone’s head will roll for this!”.
No one in the room moved.
The Court, as one cowered, as they all saw the royal fingers drumming on the thrones arm. Everyone knew what the royal blood line was thinking about. It was the method of the head’s removal, and how it would happen.
On cue: a cruel smile then crossed the Overlord’s tight lips as several tried and trusted methods emerged. After several seconds of deep contemplation, the royal blood line looked round quietly saying. “Yes, Someone’s head will roll for this, but slowly! Very slowly!”
The anger that the royal personage was feeling, finally left. Calming down and sighing loudly, the Overlord considered that even though they’d missed this moment, knew there would be others, and as that thought crossed the royal mind, another loud sigh was emitted.
The Overlord considered that they were good at waiting. They had waited this long, a few more years wouldn’t really matter.
** And anyhow (Project Purge) was almost in place, and the scatter gun approach was bound to take them all out, and in one sitting.
The royal personage’s mouth tightened into a cruel smile at the delicious thought, then the royal face practically beamed with unbridled pleasure as the buffoon Commander, who headed up the useless espionage department was brought in, along with his bowing and scraping second in tow.
Arching an eyebrow, the royal mind stripped the servant’s skin bare quite quickly, before they all collectively started the task in hand of removing the buffoon’s head with blunt dinner knives, and the first one to finally deal the death blow: lost, their own lives as forfeit.