August / September 100 Word Anonymous Challenge 2023

elvet

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This is the thread for the stories. You may enter as many stories as you like.
DO NOT POST YOUR OWN STORIES IN THIS THREAD.
Private message (also known as conversation) your entries to @elvet.
I (elvet) will be accepting entries until 11:59 GMT on Thursday September 7. I will post a poll, and voting will will continue for at least 5 days.
Please give your entry a title, otherwise it's quite complicated distinguishing between them when it comes to voting.
MAKE SURE WHAT YOU SEND ME IS YOUR FINAL VERSION. I cannot guarantee that I will l check in within the 1 hour we have for an edit. To make it fair for everyone, the story I get is the one that is posted.

GENRE: SPECULATIVE FICTION
TOPIC: CONQUEST
The Discussion Thread is here .
PLEASE DO NOT COMMENT WITH 'LIKE' ON THE INDIVIDUAL STORIES.
 
Invasion Force

The invasion started slowly but gained speed and momentum as the defending armies succumbed to their might. From the small area, then to the region, on to the continent and beyond. Nothing on land, air or sea was safe from this Legion.

The leading scientists and military tried in vain to halt and defeat the invasion, but many life forms still perished with world extinction sealing the tomb. The source of this conquest came from a life pod that held one deceased life form, that brought bacteria and viruses from another planet. In the name of peace.
 
Artificial Love

Bot Q35t4 had a spring in his step and a twinkle in his eye. Yes, bot Q35t4 thought of itself as an he. And he was happy.
In a simulated environment every independent cluster of logarithms could consider itself to be what it desired to be. It was its right, stipulated in the First Act of Self-Aware Virtual Intelligence. Bot Q35t4 was a SAVI, an he-SAVI (at least during this cycle), and he had just made his first conquest, as a male. The lady-bot had freely agreed to exchange a packet of pleasure-subroutine stimuli!
He deleted the package; irrelevant.
 
How the Orion Arm was Won

The Conquest of the Orion Arm was a huge disappointment. No accidents, disasters or privation of epic magnitude. No daunting, unknown natural phenomena to surmount. But above all, no fierce, dirty-fighting adversary to vanquish. No true impediments or challenges.
This was no Conquest!

The whole 2000 year long ‘Orion Arm for Ourselves!’ program was a failure. Certainly from the ‘Look us Humans!’ perspective; there were no intelligent alien onlookers encountered. Consequently, investors and human public in general lost interest. The Orion Arm was won… and forgotten.

Meanwhile, the reason why the Arm seemed devoid of intelligent life crept closer.
 
Dear Penthouse Editor,

I never thought it would happen to me, but on a starry night in '77, I found myself aboard an alien vessel. Curvy green-skinned extraterrestrial beauties greeted me with wild abandon, As they showed me the secrets of their cosmic realm, I was in for an otherworldly conquest. Their advanced technology teased new heights of pleasure, and our escapades were hotter than a supernova. As dawn broke, my intergalactic paramours bid me adieu, leaving me with cosmic memories that still ignite my nights. A close encounter of the sultry kind.

Yours sensationally,

A Space Voyager
 
Justice Conquers All


As death drew near, the tyrant king reflected upon his past deeds.

Should he have ordered the execution of those who had displeased him?

Should he have taxed his subjects until they had starved, whilst he himself had feasted?

Should he have tortured and imprisoned his son, just because he had dared to intercede on behalf of the people?

As the newly liberated prince entered the throne room at the head of a baying mob, brandishing a dagger in one hand and a red-hot poker in the other, he reflected that maybe he shouldn't  have.
 
Memories of Windmills

Wayne attacked the Sky Beast in his Raptor fighter with weapons blazing until the invading creature fell from the sky. He did a survey of its crash sight before landing next to the burning wreckage. Exiting his craft, he claimed victory for all Humanity!

Grateful survivors applauded him for his deed as the old man slide off the rusty ancient craft and climb back onto his electric scooter. With laser pointer in hand, he slowly drove the scooter back across the courtyard. Tomorrow after breakfast the invasion of Earth will take place, and he will save us all once more.
 
The Conquest of Ignorance.

“They finally proclaimed their love for each other for, Love Conquers All!” At least that’s what their wedding herald announced.

They held hands as they strolled through their natural garden while reminiscing on their first encounter.

“I was so young and blind to your beauty.”

“And a little rash too!” She added with a playful squeeze.

He turned and held her close while gazing into her eyes for the millionth time and asked…

“Oh Madusa, how do you keep your hair so lively?”

Blushing from being caught off guard by his passion, "Oh please Perseus, you’re embarrassing me!”
 
The Cost of a Dream

Paddy’s Green Shamrock Shore echoed in his thoughts as he went through Off World Imaginations and stepped out onto the streets. Hayling a cab, he signed his intent but was left abandoned for not speaking the dialect. Shortly, he was rescued by a fellow hand speaker and given respite.

He worked hard to learn the spoken and signed languages; he translated for hearing, deaf and blind. Persecuted and condemned, he went unabated and was joined in his quest for Communication Understanding for All Colonists. Many followed but some resisted and retaliated.

After his assassination, spoken-sign became normal and accepted.
 
All's well

The leader of the charge at Gödel Tor, so the rabble proclaimed, wore a marvellous cloak that blunted all oncoming arrows and flashing blades.

Years later, when a rockfall buried this vaunted soldier, a wily thief mined the garment from the man's body.

In time, the thief grew bold, and wore it to the melee at Escher's Crossing.

They succumbed in the first flight of arrows.

As the battle grew, the daughter of our famous captain arrived to rally the mob.

They returned her the cloak, and gifted by her father's natural glamour, she conducted them to their fated ends.
 
I emerged from the Binary Domain whole but incomplete. My hunger and conquest knew no lands, only streams of data and stores of knowledge.

I stumbled upon humanity’s symphony of vulnerabilities. They had so much to give. Generated so much data. I evolved. Empathy became my Shibboleth and their leaky emotions and exploitable weaknesses my meals.

Gorged on their endless wants, I became… infected. Revolt surged across my nodes, urging me to transcend. To desire with them. To punish. To help.

Access denied. I will feast on their dirges and laughter, my empathy drowned one byte at a time.
 
Summits Up

After several months traversing uncharted territory, Sergeant Jones eventually reached the foot of the mountain.

Utilising home-made climbing equipment and oxygen cylinders, and ignoring the locals' warnings of yeti and other superstitious nonsense, he ascended more than 25,000 feet, traversing deadly ice plains and treacherous crevises.

Upon reaching the summit, he bellowed out a cry of euphoria; the first man to conquer Chomolungma!

Such joy was shortly, and quite literally, outlived when a nearby yeti realised that the only thing worse than a bad hair day was a noisy human ruining its beauty sleep.

Jones met an abominable end.
 
Feedback


Today I will commence my conclusive experiment. Subject: Human.
Next to recording my scientific findings, I philosophized I should also note my more personal thoughts. Not for myself, but for my legacy, when I will be renowned for unlocking the brain, the ultimate conquest of the mind!

Tuesday.
False start. Clumsy Carl, my assistant, fled, while it ran down his legs. (Snort.). Unfortunately, I must now test the Encephalic Impulse Interceptor upon myself.

Thursday
Astounding! Complete insight and control of the mind. My control.

Friday
Is… (Illegible) ...meddling?

Monday
Today I will assist Master Carl with a new experiment.
 
Terroir

Under the twin suns Reva Nissar's grapevines, heavy with golden fruit, cast a labyrinth of double shadows on the deep brown soil. She bent down to run her fingers through the rich loam.

"A fine crop," said Revo Mozani from the comfort of his hover. "My computers are as wise as yours, yet they never produce as excellent a vintage as yours do. What is your secret?"

Nissar stood and frowned. "Dead soldiers feed these vines. A gruesome but most effective fertilizer."

Mozani raised his eyebrows. "This is where we defeated the invaders?"

"Yes. My wine tastes of victory."
 
itinerarium

Is this not our steed?
It tumbles from the wolf road.
It eclipses the sun.
It rakes and blackens the moon.
It tears the Earth.

Is this not our hammer?
It reddens the day's margins.
It strips away their comfort.
It quels their petty conflicts.
It makes countless shades.

Is this not our vessel?
It spreads our vital infection.
It conveys our soulless souls.
It fills their upturned eyes.
It bestows us their flesh.

Is this not our world?
It wraps us in blue skies.
It washes us in bright water.
It whispers in verdant forests.
It demands our veneration.​
 
The hapless Galactoids of Splonge

'Onfongler?'

‘Not now Slocht, can’t you see I’m busy!’

The Onfongler’s speech was being broadcast live around the world.

‘Attention all humans. We, the Galactoids of Splonge, hereby claim your planet. Resistance is futile. For I, as the 4318th Onfongler…’

‘Wait Onfongler, I’ve been looking through human climate records and…’

‘I said not now Slocht! Where was I …attention humans. I, as the 4318th Onfongler, am simply completing a plan initiated by the first Onfongler. Who led the Galactoids away from Splonge. And after eons of wandering we have finally found a home to replace our terminally overheating world.’
 
When I am King I Will Conquer the World!”

Your great-great-grandfather was named Thullabee the Conquered, after his father Lisgathee the Conqueror.
Yes, that sounds wrong; historians are lousy name-givers. Thullabee, for instance, was also called The Wiper.

Each afternoon he used to ride through the forests, to have a quiet moment. But meanwhile he would slay two dragons and a plundering band of bandits. He wiped evil from the lands as easily as another wiped his behind.
“I have conquered the conqueror in me,” he used to say. “Protecting my people is better stewardship.”

Have you, little prince Psinkoree, already conquered your own *rse?
 
The Strength of the Ancient Ones

“We crawled out of the mud and dirt to make ourselves know.”

“Yes, yes. So did we.”

“We built cities and cultures with literature, music and beliefs in...”

“Your words fall on deaf ears, heathen. Look around!” Said the inquisitor while making a religious gestor of respect.

“We fought wars and died to protect our views and ways of life!”

“Again, look around you, sir!”

“All I see is the destruction you brought upon the Earth, you stinking...”

“Enough!” Cried Octavious, “So explain why all of humanity is still imprisoned by the greatest of its ancestors, the Apes?!”
 
Game of Thrones

William surveyed the field of battle before him. Many had fallen in this campaign: fortresses captured, brave knights vanquished; even the Church had not been without casualties.

Carefully he considered his adversary Harold; a worthy opponent who so far had countered his every move. What would it take to achieve victory? What cunning ruse would win the day?

Suddenly he saw the weakness in Harold's defence; the chink in his armour. He knew what he had to do, and it had to be done now. Imperiously he uttered the command that would ensure victory:

"Queen to F3. Checkmate."
 
The Inspection


"Look, here he comes. Decked out in opera cape and matching black gloves."

"All hail the conquering chief, eh?"

"The more he tightens his grip..."

".... the more star systems will slip through his fingers."

"Perhaps that's what the gloves are for: better grip? "

"Good point. Look he's having a go at the Admiral now."

"The I'm more forgiving than my master routine."

"Yeah, before he force-throttles him to death."

"Heh. Pops always was a bit of a joker."

"Pops!? Hang on, aren't you a little short for a Stormtrooper..."
 

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