A Game of Domination (SI)

Riiight, in order to get my mind off some crap that recently took place around me, I've decided to get my writing ass in gear and go ahead with a concept that has been bouncing around within my skull for quite some time.

First and foremost, I would like to give special thanks to Starfox5 who had been kind enough to beta for me. (That being said, additional betas, esp. with a good knowledge of Black Company universe are welcomed.)

So, let's get this show on the road, shall we? (Also posted on alt-history forum.)
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A Game of Domination.


Prologue.​

Usually, a story starts with a birth. You have to have your hero come from somewhere after all.

This one started with a death – mine that is. Of all the ways I thought I could expire, be it old age, cancer, car crash, suicide (yes, there were times when I thought of that, well, who didn't...) or, heck, a negligent discharge at the shooting range, slipping on the floor while stepping out of the shower only to smash the back of my skull against the...porcelain throne seemed... pedestrian. Uninspired even. A shitty way to go if you pardon the pun.

Being a staunch atheist I fully expected nothing as my body shut down around me, so imagine my surprise when I found myself staring in the amused face of... John de Lancie? He wore the uniform of TNG Starfleet, with the pips of an admiral no less, and lounged in what seemed a comfy chair.

„Ummm, while I guess that stating the obvious would be superfluous, but still, holy crap! This really isn't what I expected...“ I said, looking around the surroundings that seemed to resemble Ent-D Ten Forward, if rather empty but for the two of us “still, I am extremely surprised that one of your, ummm, magnitude, would spare any thought to such as myself...“

Q seemed a bit amused as he snorted with a non-committal shrug „Seeing as I have literally an infinity worth of infinities at my hands to spend, why not?“

Which was a reason as good as any truth to be told, and given the, well, nigh-absolute disparity in power (he had pretty much all of it, I myself literally none of it) and, frankly, everything else at the moment, there was no reasonably intelligent (at least by my standards) comeback I could offer.

„Honestly“ Q continued „I find myself a little bored these days, and you humans make for some amusement. Certainly, your lot is hardly the most creative around, but sometimes even hairless apes can strike the proverbial gold.“

I blinked, wondering where this would go, after all it's not as if I could actually do anything about the whole thing, other than potentially make it worse for myself by annoying him.

„But I must say, ever since your fellows over at that amusing internet forum came up with“ Q made exclamation marks with his fingers „the „Self-Insert“ stories as a fairly peculiar form of wish-fulfillment, I have found it particularly entertaining to actually place their real selves into the story settings they like to write about.“

WHAT???!!!

„Well, temporal quantum copies of them actually. One sits at home typing away, while the other finds himself snatched away between heartbeats, literally living through the thick of it. Both blissfully unaware of the very existence of one another that is. Well, at least some of them do live through, the differences between the stories written and actual turnout are positively hilarious to behold. Maybe I should confront them with themselves some day, or maybe switch them around. Choices, choices...“ He struck a thoughtful pose.

A feeling of dread began to form within my guts...

„Aaaah, yes...“ He gave me a satisfied grin. „You catch on quickly. Since you've got literally nothing better to do at them moment, I guess I'll just send you on your merry way...“

As I started to open my mouth he interrupted: „and no, you don't get a say in the issue.“

„Crap...“ I sighed, resigning myself to the inevitable. „Where will I be going then?“

„That one you'll almost get to decide...“ Q said, while snapping his fingers. In a flash of light, two large urns appeared in front of me, along with a coin in his hand, the purpose of which he explained to me: „Heads and it's a cross-over type story, tails and it's a „straight“ one. In case of the former, you will pick the „universes“ in question from both urns, if it's the latter, you get to choose just one urn to pick from.

„What's the point?“ I asked, „since you're literally a time traveller, and within the framework of my limited comprehension of the concepts in question, both omnipotent andomniscient to boot, so you already know the future outcomes. Of the toss, the potential draw, and how will my „story“ unfold.“

Q laughed: „But of course I do. That is, I could if I wanted to. But where would be the fun in that, eh? So I restrict myself from knowing, otherwise I could just run the whole thing as simulation in my mind as a spare thought process.“

Before I could add that doing so might have been for the best he added: „No, it doesn't carry the same entertainment value“. He then tossed the coin to me: „Here you go then, toss and we'll see.“

I briefly examined the golden Krugerrand: „The sheer presence of two urns suggests that it'll be heads, but here goes nothing…“ I said as I flipped the 1 Troy ounce of solid gold.

Unsurprisingly, heads.

Q snorted at that, and pointed at the urns.

„If I may ask, what's in there actually?“ I figured it could not hurt to ask, forewarned and all that...

„A variety of fictional universes, though most of them aren't entirely fictional, given how literally infinite the Multiverse is. You are at least somewhat familiar with all of them, enough to be able to function to a degree. Some you like, some you don't.“

Saying „You know, if it's bloody fucking Worm I'm getting I swear I'll find a way to ascend to Q-hood just to thank you properly for this...“ only earned me a calculating stare, as the being in front of me seemed to ponder if screwing with my lot drawing would be worth the entertainment value of the (extremely long and unlikely) shot.

„Riiight“ I drawled, as I stuck my hand into the first urn, feeling around as the inside seemed to be filled with something soft, small pieces paper most likely. „Once more unto the breach...“ I said, as I pulled out what was indeed a small piece of folded paper.

It said: „Black Company“.

Yay! And holy crap! at the same time. Yay!, because it was among my favourites, and holy crap! because the setting wasn't exactly nice to be around.

I stuck my hand in the second urn.

The paper said: „A Song of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones“.

Crap and double crap!

„Ummm, book or show canon?“ I blinked in confusion at the unclear statement.

Q just gave the shrug equivalent of „wait and see“ and just as he was about to snap his fingers, stopped briefly, seemingly considering something.

„Don't worry, it won't be quite that bad“ he said, making me wonder what the heck was that supposed to mean as the world around dissolved in a flash of white.
.
.
.
„Hyyyyaaaaahhhh!!!“ I woke up both shaken and stirred. What a screwy dream that was...

 

Why are your quotes weird?

First time I see someone use Q instead of the usual boring by now ROB.

 

You mean lower and upper, instead of upper and upper case? I've had LibreOffice set to UK English (though with default language being Polish), maybe that's why.

Q is a nod to my SpaceBattles past, back when the forum was about SpaceBattles proper, as in battles in space, with Skeet, Ed, LC, Rastamon and other forum greats writing. These days it's page after page after page of bloody fucking Worm, for which I do not care in the least...

 

One note this is impossible to read on dark themes

 

Ayup. Would seriously prefer if you removed the color for the whole thing.

 

Hmm I wonder if I'll be able to follow your story as someone who hasn't read Black Company.
Additionally these die and meet ROB prologs are useless as far as the plot goes. your character barely show us much besides your dislike of Worm. And we are told what setting the story is taking place in (which we already knew because of the title). But I am watching this because maybe this will have an SI who isn't born a Targaryian or Robert Barathions true born son.

 

The post is written in black color. Do a ctrl-a to select everything and then click the Remove Formatting on the upper left corner of the edit panel with the writing options.