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DARKSIDE: The United States of Anarchy; "The Fist of Darkness."

[Version Control : Original.]

[Disclaimer: This text is intended for adult audiences, if you are

not of age to view it, be somewhere else. This series of stories

explores the darker aspects of the human experience, if that might

offend you, then you were warned, and it isn't my problem. -- KTM]

Anything can happen in the Multiverse. Even a world that

is much like ours, but which somehow... isn't. A world that is a

magnet for the blackness in the dreams and souls of humankind. A

world known as: The Darkside.

The World's economic system depends on a delicate

interlocking system of mutual trust and financial debt. When

those bonds shattered, the governments and monetary institutions

crumbled. Even the most idealistic civil servants left their jobs

when their families were gripped with hunger. The Survivors of

the Chaos would come to call their nation the United States of

Anarchy.

Chapter 11. "Within The Fist of Darkness." -- by KTM.

The severe autumn was shaping up to be yet another hard

Winter. As the privations of the season began to clamp down on

the North, everyone felt the lack of the fuel and supplies that

were readily available under the old economic system. The

Empire wasn't hurting much, because the Emperor supported them.

Months after Robert had tamed the nuclear weapons, his

Black Legion, now 15 divisions strong, were ready to move against

General Stark's conventional forces. Robert's military numbered

in the many thousands, with most of the able bodied men and many

women in his four state Empire joining it, in order to fulfill the

full employment requirement. Even the Power Team had a role in

the Legions, as the premiere Special Forces unit.

But Stark's soldiers felt the lack of the taxpayer's

tributes, and raided the civilians of the surrounding communities

near them for basic supplies. Many areas in the North Eastern

U.S. suffered these attacks, causing them to plead with the Dark

man to deliver them. He was willing to oblige, but while the

Empire prepared for the coming Campaign, the innocents outside it

were suffering.

Sergeant Brad Donovan loved going to town for supplies.

His Platoon was composed of first class fuck-ups that the old Army

wanted to get rid of. They were in his care because only Brad

could control the rowdy bastards. The "regulars" considered them

criminal scum, and their Platoon was dubbed "The Rats".

One of them, Corporal Steven Leigh, was accused of raping

a little girl in the foreign country he'd been based in. The

scandal had been embarrassing, but they couldn't prove he did it.

Still, the PR was so bad, they'd sent him home, for a face saving

Court-Martial.

Donovan's band proved efficient at sniffing out goods

civilians tried to keep for themselves. This success did a lot to

change their previous record of being slackers and thugs. Brad

wasn't babysitting bad-boys anymore; now he led men perfectly

suited for 'requisitioning' missions. Every sort of leverage and

threat was tried to get the supplies, but it was Corporal Leigh

who found the most effective means of all.

The Rats came into town for warm clothing and blankets.

Donovan provided the diplomatic angle, while two ex-MP's, Rillburg

and Renes, served up the threat of violence over the barrels of

their machine guns.

"Look Mr. and Mrs. King, under the National Economic

Emergency Act passed by the U.S. Congress, you're required to

render what assistance the Military requires," Sergeant Donovan

said, patiently. "You're the community leaders, and we're not

leaving until we have what we came for."

He nodded to where the former MP's leaned against the

doors of the town's council chambers. "Here is the legal

requisition of supplies from my commander. I'm not going back to

base without the materials it specifies."

"Yeah," Private Doug Renes said, fingering his weapon, "it

might be...unhealthy. For us, and for you." The Rats shifted

uncomfortably, remembering the dire threats that had made about

summary executions if they didn't deliver the winter supplies.

Tom King had learned not to raise his voice against them.

He'd gotten a black eye for it last time. "Sergeant, what you see

here is everything we can spare. That has to be good enough; we

can't give you anymore. Just tell your Captain that's all there

is, he'll understand."

"It's you who don't understand," Private Kyle Rillburg

said. "If we don't come back with *everything* the Captain wants,

he'll take it out on our hides, and frankly, King, I'd rather

take it out on yours."

"You expect the Military to serve the public," Donovan

said, "right?" King nodded. "When the public was paying taxes to

support the Military, that was true. But that isn't happening

anymore, King, and we're not asking for charity. I'm three months

in arrears of my pay, and I'm willing to take it in goods. Since

you aren't supporting us with your taxes, we'll take your

possessions -- at gunpoint, if we have to."

"Won't be necessary, Sarge," said another voice. "I

think I can speed up this procedure."

Sergeant Donovan looked over where Corporal Leigh was

herding in two girls. One, young and docile, went where he told

her to. The other was an angry teen who only went with him

because he held a belt that throttled her neck.

"Tanya!" King said, "C'mere darling. Get away from him!"

The quiet girl started to take a step to her father, but

stopped at a soft word from Leigh, "Bang." She hung her head and

looked away from her dad.

"Damn you," King said. "What are you doing with her? And

that's my niece, Carol!"

"Yes, Corporal," Donovan said, "what are you doing?"

Steven Leigh handed the teen's leash to a Private, and

went to speak quietly with the Sergeant. "I've thought of a

better way than just shooting them and starting over. Let me wing

this, and he'll fall all over himself to give us what we ask for."

Brad narrowed his eyes, but then he nodded. "Do it."

The Corporal turned to the frantic father, who was being

held back only by machine gun barrels. "Mr. King," Steve said.

"These two lovely young girls will be giving some 'hospitality' to

a few of the Country's finest. Once you've provided everything on

the list in acceptable quality, they will be released.

His cold smile sent shivers down Donovan's spine. "I hope

you take longer than 30 minutes, 'Dad'. That's about my minimum

for a good solid fuck!" The younger girl shuddered.

"You monster!" Tom King shouted. "Let them go!"

Steve looked at his watch, and handed the girl a large

tube of KY jelly from his pocket. "Time is counting down, Mr.

King, but if you stick around for about 5 minutes, you should be

able to hear your daughter's virgin scream."

King moaned in frustration. Donovan told the B squad to

guard the Town Council's outer doors, and led A squad into the

inner Council room with the girls. As they closed the doors, he

said, "You're a sick sonofabitch, Steve."

"Better believe it, Sarge," Leigh said. "Better to pop

their cherries than for us to face a fuckin' firing squad. You

joining us?"

"No, Corporal," Donovan said. "I'm Christian, and that

would be a sin. But I'll stay, to make sure you're not getting

too rough."

"You like to watch, Sarge?" Leigh said. "I never would

have guessed. C'mon boys, let's have some pussy."

Some of the men hesitated, and Donovan assured them,

"Don't worry. Corporal Mac knows if one squad gets something

extra, the other will get their turn next time."

The girls were stripped, and laid back on the tables.

Nylon ropes secure them, while the soldiers ditched their ragged

uniforms. The Corporal stated smearing the KY over the pink lower

lips of the younger girl, who was maybe 14. Then his slick hand

started sensuously rubbing his stiff meat. Tanya watched him like

a bird watches a snake. When he finished, his cock strained

upward against his belly, leaking precum.

Leigh climbed between her legs, smiling. He pushed his

hard cock down, so it dragged through her sparse bush. She

shrieked a little at the touch of his hot flesh, then gasped as he

started rubbing it steadily across her little clit. He kept up

the steady rubbing until her entrance wet slightly.

He began pushing his rigid cock lower. Deep between her

cunt lips it slid, until his head found her slot and began to push

inside. She started struggling uselessly at the merciless

pressure of the intruder within her innermost folds. His hips

slowly sank down as he pushed in, then stopped with a grin.

"I thought you were a virgin," he said. "Today, you're

gonna become a woman around the head of my cock!"

"Oh god no please," she babbled, "no don't, please!"

Donovan noticed his men were jacking their meat, anxiously

waiting for their turns. His own cock ached as well, so calmly he

opened his trousers and began to rub his hard prick. The men
looked at him wide-eyed, because he easily had the biggest meat in

the room.

He looked over at the older girl, where two buddies were

working on her together. She looked about 17, and one was eating

her pussy, while the other was kneading and slobbering on her

tits. "Look guys," the Sergeant said, "we don't know how long we

have here, so why don't you start teaming up on them?"

"Alright!" one of the younger men said, and pushed over to

where the corporal was teasing Tanya's clit again. He grabbed a

handful of her small firm breast, and held his commando knife

across her throat, aiming his cock at her face. "Open up, pretty

thing, I want your mouth."

She moaned, "Don't hurt me. Please! God, no..."

He pushed his dripping hardon against her mouth and

forced it open. He shifted the knife closer, "Don't you bite me,

bitch."

Leigh watched, and as the other man entered her mouth, he

plunged fully into her virgin cunt. Her muffled scream of pain

made it easier for the soldier to push his dick in. Another man
began to work on her tits, while a forth put her unresisting hand

around his meat, so she pumped his meat with him.

On the other table, the buddies were sandwiching Carol.

The one under her eased her ass down on his thick greased cock.

His partner knelt straddling him, with his dick poised to jam in

her cunt. Two more were taking turns playing with her big tits
and fucking her mouth.

Soon, every man in the room had at least a girl's hand

wrapped around his cock, if not his cock in one hole or another.

All, that is, except the Sarge, who stood back and watched it all,

slowing beating his big cock.

The soldier with the knife groaned, grinding his pelvis in

Tanya's face, pumping his jizz as deep as he could. As soon as he

stepped away, another man put his cock into her mouth. Corporal

Leigh was still slowly fucking her. He had stamina, and the girl
was struggling so delightfully under him.

He sped up his tempo a bit, and she gasped in pain,

wailing that he was killing her. "No, cunt. I'm fucking you.

There's a difference." She only moaned in response.

He began slamming her hard, as her mouth was invaded by

the third cock since her ordeal began. She was starting to learn

how to breath even with the men's thick penis jammed down her

throat. Leigh grabbed her hips and brutally rammed her, grunting

as he pushed all the way in, and pumped his cum deep inside.

One of the younger guys holding Tanya's hand around his

shaft bucked, as he shot his wad on top of her. Leigh still lay

on her, rocking his hips a little with his eyes closed. Someone

tapped his shoulder to cut in, and the Corporal snarled back at

him, making the soldier back up a step.

"Now, Corporal," Donovan said. "Remember, it was your

idea to share the girls, right? You've had a turn, move aside."

Leigh scowled, but he climbed down, and used the girl's

skirt to clean his pink-stained cock. Then he got dressed, and

sat near the door with his machine gun. He was done for the day,

and someone had to keep guard.

"Something wrong, Steve?" the Sergeant said, still

stroking himself.

Leigh answered without looking at him. "Like you, Sarge,

I got my standards. Me; I don't ever take sloppy seconds. Once

someone else gets her, I don't want her anymore."

"Your loss, Leigh," one of the others said, but the

Corporal only shrugged.

Donovan continued to stroke, wondering how things were

going outside.

Corporal Mac hadn't seen a civilian so eager to fulfill a

Military order in his whole career. King had made a flurry of

phone calls and sent his wife off with several messages. Quicker

than they'd been told was possible, the supplies started arriving.

He knew there would be a next time, so when the stuff

came, he took his time evaluating it. He wanted good quality, and

at the same time make sure the guys had lots of time to enjoy. He

rejected a quarter of the goods, making King practically scream at

him to get on with it.

Mac said, "We deserve only the best..." a scream of

passion from Carol interrupted him, "...which it seems they're

getting in there. Doesn't it make you proud, to know your family
is giving their all in the service of their country?" He gave a

wicked smile while the men solemnly saluted the inner council

room.

"Mr. King, the longer you stand here and argue with me,

the longer this is going to take. He hooked his thumb to the

doors, "And that will take longer, also. So go ahead, man. Yell

at me. My buddies have been needing some fresh pussy."

The councilman looked apoplectic, but Mac cooly continued.

"Now, Mr. King, we don't have all the required blankets yet, nor

the clothing we need. I suggest you get busy calling some more."

In the inner room, the men were slowing down. They'd all

had a turn or two at the girls, and some were dressing, as the

rest finished up.

Donovan was starting to sweat. He was starting to feel an

need to come, and that meant he should stop. Leigh smirked when

Sarge's mouth twisted, and the big man slowed down his pumping.

"Ya know," the Corporal drawled, "it's a sin to waste it."

Donovan frowned at the pedophile. "I know. That's why

I'm stopping."

Leigh handed his gun to another, and went to Tanya. "I

think I know how you can get off, *and* avoid a sin," he said.

"What do you mean?" Donovan said.

"Fornification is a sin," Leigh said. "And so is wasting

your spunk. So why don't you point your canon over here at this

cunt, and cum on it. You haven't put it in her hole, but your

little guys can swim around in that swamp, and have as much a

chance as any of ours to knock her up. That wouldn't be wasting

it, would it?" Leigh spread her legs wide open, and gestured at

her sopping cleft.

The other guys said, "Right on, Sarge! Do it!"

"Don't tempt me, Corporal," Donovan said with a scowl.

"See anything wrong with my logic?" Leigh said.

"No, I don't," the Sergeant said. "I think you're right."

He went over to the girl, and began pumping in earnest, holding

his cock so his cum would pump onto her wet cunt. His fist flew

on his shaft, and with a grunt he shot on her. With careful aim,

he didn't lose a single spurt to the floor. He sighed with

relief, and walked away, his conscience clean.

When A squad came out, Corporal Mac reported they had all

the supplies they had been sent for. Donovan nodded to the

distraught father, and told his men to pick up the supplies and

head back to base.

This was the way the Rats became famous for always getting

the goods with their methods.

Robert was thoughtful as Tom King gave his report of the

incident concerning his daughter, along with heartfelt letters

describing dozens of similar events. The victims asked for the

Dark man's help, because as bad as he was personally, the common

folk of the Empire were better off than those suffering under the

tyranny of General Stark's 'protection'.

"Thank you, Councilman," Robert said. "I think that you

can expect an intervention in this matter, and soon. I can't give

you specifics, but my actions will be decisive."

"As soon as you can, sir," Mr. King answered. "We're

counting on you."

Operation: Ratcatcher was set for mid October, and with

the careful planning that had led up to it, the day of the mission

began flawlessly.

The six minor bases throughout the American North East

were each to be attacked by two Legion Divisions. The greater

numbers on the Empire's side were meant to overwhelm the

resistance and get things under control as quickly as possible.

The main target, however Stark's base at NORAD HQ, inside

Cheyenne Mountain, which would be the toughest nut to crack.

Accordingly, this strike force consisted of 3 full Divisions of

the best troops the Empire had, and the Power Team, accompanied by

Wolf, a part time member, and led by the Emperor himself.

At 05:00 CST on the 15th, all seven bases were struck

simultaneously. There was no way the enemy could support or even

warn each other, as each was soon fully engaged. The Legion had

more troops, but those that Stark had were more experienced, and

better trained with the larger weapons of war, like tanks and

artillery.

While the conventional forces squared off, Robert led Wolf

and the Power Team past the battle line and through the long

tunnel that ended at the massive doors that shut off the heavily

shielded installation inside.

The Dark man gave them their final instructions. "Wolf,

you stay here with the Team, they'll need your help more than I

will." The shaggy man nodded, and gave a nod to Teke, as well.

He'd already worked out with the Telekinetic who was in charge

between them.

"Teke," Robert continued, "I'm going on ahead to open the

way. The team will stay here to hold the access to the Mountain.

If the Legion wins decisively and reaches your position, go ahead

and come in after me. If the tide turns against us, lend a hand

and hit the enemy from the rear on your own judgement. Is that

understood?"

"Yeah, Chief," the black man said. "Go in there and stick

it to 'em. 'Hear?"

Robert nodded and turned to the great reinforced doors.

With a quick gesture they ripped open, causing some small tremors

on this part of the mountain. He flicked of his long blue cloak,

and disappeared inside the jagged rift. The sound of his mayhem

as he headed back down the tunnel soon faded, but the rumbling

tremors continued.

Charity, and the less combat oriented Team members stayed

in the entrance tunnel to get as much cover as possible. Lady Web

needed to stay as close to the entrance as possible, though, for

when she was needed. Her mind-linking gift only activated within

line-of-sight range, at present. It was too short a range for

Seeker to assist, and still stay at home. They had needed her,

though, and so she had come along.

A small shower of rocks alerted them that there was

trouble in the area. Seeker said, "Look out!" as a bunker opened

up on the mountain above them, and from it a dark tank emerged,

blowing loose dirt around it in a wind blast as it _floated_ out

of the entrance.

The powerful fans on the smooth trackless bottom of the

tank angled aftwards, and the armored vehicle began to slide down

the slope towards them like a stick of butter on the off-ramp to

Hell. Two armored men appeared at the bunker entrance, and they

began leaping down to either side of the tank as if they only

felt the Moon's gravity. Both the hover-tank and the power suits

were dark colored, with bright green 51's painted on them.

"Lady Web!" Teke shouted, "link us up!" They blinked as

the connecting Web surrounded their minds, and gave them instant

communication with each other. Sapphire and Osprey, the two

flyers in the group, started getting altitude, while Warp ducked

down and checked his supply of packet bombs. Wolf stood his

ground, with the great battleaxe Robert had made for him held

ready.

When the tank hit the bottom of the slope, the team had

already moved. The tank slowed as it reached the level, and it

appeared to plant in one spot and swivel it's main gun around in

an attempt to cover the ground based targets that were in the

area.

It's movements were jerky and unsure, and Charity reported

that the tank crew and the suited men lacked confidence in their

equipment, and were nervous. Teke began to take advantage of the

information, by giving hard randomly directed shoves against the

big machine.

The crew tried to recover Turbine control and aim the guns

despite the unexpected jolts. The armored men headed down to take

their defensive positions by the tank, when Warp popped in and out

around it, slapping on a dozen stick-on bombs, including a big one

shoved inside the turret's main barrel.

"What are the fuses set for?" Teke yelled at Warp, as he

threw up a PK shield against a spray of machine-gun fire.

"Ninety seconds, boss!" Tim called. I wanted it to be

soon, but still give us time to get outta the way."

"Good thinking," the black man said. "Look, our flyers

will handle the jumpin' beans coming down the hill. I gotta keep

pushing this thing around, so they stay off balance. You and Wolf

need to give them something to focus on. Are you two up to it?

It's dangerous."

"I *like* danger," the wolfman grinned, lifting his axe.

"Like they even have a chance at targeting me!" the teen

sneered confidently.

"Okay then," Teke said. "Keep 'em hopping boys!" Wolf

and Warp led the tank away from the mountain, and away from the

power suits racing to re-enforce it.

The tank's crew desperately tried to get a bead on

*someone*, as they were thrust around inside their metal shell by

a few tons of telekinetic force. From one side or the other, from

above or below; they could never predict where the lurch was

coming from next. All the while, timers counted down on the bombs

stuck onto the tank's exterior.

Tim started counting down the last few seconds through the

Web, "Five, four, three, two, one!"

BOOM! The tank was rocked again, then suddenly it fell

the two feet that it hovered above the ground, the main barrel

bent and useless.

Teke waited, but the tank stayed silent. He levitated

himself and Wolf to the hatch to greet the crew when they came

crawling out.

The armored men had nearly made it to the tank when the

flyers came back down. With a piercing whoop, Osprey stooped on

one of them, ruddy phantom wings folded close. Her specialized

telekinesis assisted her clawed gloves to clamp on the back of the

suit. She fought to pull him up as high as she could before he

could get a weapon aimed at her. Twenty feet, thirty, forty and

climbing steadily, she continued to rise with her prey.

Sapphire had been charging his power beam the whole time

that they'd climbed. When they had dived at the power suits, he

had cut lose with as strong a blast as he'd ever fired, right at

his target's chest. The bright blue shaft dazzled his eyes, and

he skimmed by fast over the head of his target, wincing as he

expected to hear the sound of gunfire, or worse.

When he spun to look behind him, all he saw was some

drifting dust where the soldier had stood. He made a double loop

in mid air to get a closer look, using the gradually fading blue

sparkles that trailed after him to give himself some partial cover

from any assault. The armored man had been driven a foot or two

into the mountainside, smoking. The soldier twitched feebly,

obviously stunned. Ali turned to assist his partner.

Osprey had her target half a football field up in the air,

and was aiming for an especially rocky area. Sapphire showed off

his speed and maneuverability by flying behind her, and

occasionally looping in front of them to tease the guy into

shooting at him.

"What are you going to do with him?" the Middle-Easterner

asked.

"I don't know, yet," Karen said. "He's not a turtle or a

walnut, but do you think his shell will crack if I drop him?"

"Maybe," Ali said. "But you're only fifty yards up. You

might want to try a hundred yards before you let him go. Or even

a half a mile." He grinned at her, knowing their conversation was

for the benefit of the prisoner.

"Oh God, don't," the man begged. "I surrender. I can't

take a fall like that. Not in this untested, "New Technology"

piece of shit...!"

"We accept your surrender," Osprey said, "but take off

your helmet first."

"Why?" the soldier said, lifting his headgear.

"So it will be far more certain that you'll die, if I have

to drop you because you cross us, you imperialist swine." The

guy's hands froze. "Do it!" she snapped. He did.

"Say," Ali said, "wouldn't *we* be the Imperialists?

After all..."

"Oh, shut up, Sapphire," Karen said, giving him a

disgusted look as they flew downward.

Robert hadn't expected to face much pitched resistance to

his penetration of the Mountain, but he was finding that people

were hiding from him. It wasn't helping, of course, he could

sense them through the walls, but he didn't really care. He

wanted General Stark, and found him in the big Operations room,

that resembled scenes in movies like Wargames.

Just at the entrance were two close ranks of soldiers who

were determined to kill the intruder, or die. Robert didn't like

either of the choices, so he put them into a deep, coma-like

sleep. The only time he'd killed lately, was when he was taken by

surprise. Robert came fully into the room, and saw the General's

iron-grey hair had gone completely white. The officers and

soldiers manning the consoles looked nervous at his appearance.

"Hold it right there, you perverted freak," the General

ordered him. Robert wanted to know what the man had to say, so he

stayed where he was. The General laughed harshly, "Well, I've got

you now, Black, and this is MY palace, so I call the shots. I'm

going to take down your little empire, just as my men are taking

out your pathetic 'Legions'.

Robert didn't bother to correct the General, but the facts

were that the commander of Stark's forces outside had just

capitulated, and the Power Team had the "Special Weapons" unit

well in hand.

"See all those lights up there?" Stark asked him. "They

represent multiple warhead nuclear missiles, waiting to be fired

at my command. The majority of them are aimed at that so-called

Palace of yours, but at least three are pointed at each of your

Black Towers. With a press of this button, I will take out your

precious "Empire", and make your home into a crater."

"Go ahead and press it," Robert said casually. The

men in the room looked at him with surprise.

"And don't think your begging will stop me either, Black,"

the madman babbled, not hearing what Robert was really saying.

"Even if you crawled and kissed my feet, I'd still do it. It's my

duty as an American to wipe your obscenity off the map."

"I didn't know you had a shoe-fetish, General," Robert

said. A few smothered snickers were heard in the room. He

raised his voice, "I said, 'Go ahead and launch'. I don't care.

Jenners told me about your plan months ago, and I've disabled your

toys. They won't launch."

"You're lying! You couldn't! It isn't possible!" the

General screamed. "I'll call your bluff right now!" His finger

stabbed the flashing switch to launch the armed missiles, then he

turned to gloat at Robert.

Robert calmly watched the man's manic expression as the

General described, in lurid detail, the devastation that was even

now hurtling to obliterate Robert's cesspool of sin.

He was literally drooling when one of his officers tried

to get his attention, "General... Sir... General!"

"What do you want!" Stark shrieked at him.

The Colonel flinched. "They didn't launch! We've got

errors across the board. Not a single base has confirmed a

launch. It's over."

"Why didn't they launch?" the General demanded shrilly,

grabbing the Colonel's shirt front.

"We don't know yet, sir," the Colonel said as the General

shook him in rage. The younger man grabbed the General's wrists

and held him still. We've got technical crews looking into it."

"We've got a report," someone yelled across the room.

"Put it on the speakers," the Colonel said, as he released

the General, and pushed him away.

"The fuel tanks are full," a man said over the loud

speaker. "So why the hell...?" he muttered. A clattering noise

was heard. "Well, fuck me. I don't believe it. The engine

housing is *empty*. There's no fucking motor in this thing. This

missile isn't going anywhere... I don't have any spares."

"There's no warheads in the nose cones, either, General,"

Robert said. "Your man is right. It's over."

"Never!" the General shouted, spittle flying. He drew his

pistol, and started firing at the Dark man. Robert thoughtfully

kept the bullets from ricocheting. The General put another clip

in his gun, and kept firing, but Robert just stood there. "You're

a dead man," the General laughed. "I killed you. I saved the

Nation!" He swaggered over to where his imagination showed him

Robert's bleeding corpse.

"And you are mad," Robert said. "And you will always be a

threat to those around you. It ends now." With a sudden move, he

shoved the blunt head of the black Rod into the General's gut, and

made the darkness flare. When the room's light tentatively crept

back to the vicinity of the Emperor, he stood alone, except for a

pile of ash and char at his feet.

"You are all my prisoners," he said to the men in the

room. "And will be tried for whatever crimes and atrocities you

may have committed." He turned to the Imperial forces that were

entering the room. "Welcome to Cheyenne Mountain!" he said.



Later, the Operations room was empty, save for Robert. He

was playing with the displays, and fiddled until he got a screen

that pleased him. "It's time for another step outward," he mused.

The display highlighted the American Northern States above

the Mason-Dixon line, plus Missouri, from the Atlantic Ocean to

the Rockies, that were now under his control. Nearly half the

Nation, or 24 States were soon to be in his Empire, in addition to

the six Canadian Provinces bordering those states.

Yes, that would be fine. It was time to consolidate for

now. After awhile, when he was comfortable again, it would be

time to plan and grow once more.

February, 1998 - Darkside: United States of Anarchy, Part 11 of 20.

Series Continues after #20 in Darkside: Imperial States of America.

Archived @ "ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/World_of_the_Darkside";

Or www.asstr.org/~World_of_the_Darkside & www.greyarchive.com.