>>150092972
>A silence looms.
>The Emperor laughs.
>It's sincere: if He spoke physically from His body, it would be the deepest, heartiest of belly laughs. "Oh, you should see the look on your face! You look like Tessa must have when you first went 'cave exploring' with her, James, you dirty old-- well, dog!"
>Uzi's lips quiver and twitch in thinly veiled disgust and self hate.
>Typically, the self loathing in a Serial Designation N model is meant to be completely irrational.
>That's how she made them in her past life, of course.
>No amount of creative talent from having a Serial Designation J parent and being the product of a second generation onward union of flesh and blood instead of magic construct can change what she feels, and that she is fully aware that she deserves every moment of it. "You're not going to--you're not going to do--do that?"
>She's shaking.
>Natural fearless dominance does not defeat existential dread, as she has learned all too well from her father.
>"No." The Emperor states it plainly.
>"But, and I want you to take note of this," He continues, "I will do it if you defy the Order of my Empire again. Ever. Even a single time."
>He emphasizes. "And I will do exactly what I said, every time thereafter."
>There is a beat. "Do I make myself clear?"
>Uzi gulps.
>She nods.
>"You must be parched from all that learned hopelessness from Daddy -- 'he shoots, he scores'!" The Emperor laughs again, lighthearted.
>He continues. "You have my permission to feed upon Imperial citizenry when and where as needed to prevent overheating, though I request you feed upon expendables and disposable first and foremost. You will be deployed as my personal scalpel. Cancer chokes the Galaxy, and I intend to commit surgery until all traces have been eradicated from the known material universe. You are my slave, and my tool, and nothing more: just like the rest of Humanity, James. Do you understand, Captain Elliot?"
>"Yes, I understand," Uzi nods without hesitation.
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