The Art and Science of Intergalactic Warmongery
A practical guide to turning your megalomaniacal urges into an intergalactic reality.
My first invasion, let’s start with that. There was a planet somewhere beneath the grey soup we were falling through. I, the beloved leader of the Molagrian Empire, was leading the invasion. My entire armada was in formation behind me, taking a beating from the plasma flack the locals were firing in a feeble attempt to discourage us.
Finally it was happening. I’d been planning for over two years. Building up the military from scratch, squeezing money out of widows and capitalists and making promises for the rest. Haggling with roboticists and generals endlessly over the best way to take the planet. And then, the very moment the engines cut out and we started falling, it was all worth it. I remember a feeling washing over me. Transcendence. Omnipotence.
You’re going to love it; all systems armed and each city allocated to your legions, every defensive structure set to be destroyed by orbital bombardment in the next few minutes. Your troopers, bundled into their dropping pods, clutching their ion rifles like talismans in the darkness and falling into that heavy gravity, each one eager to taste the blood of your enemy. It was wonderful. Hell, I have an erection even as I’m dictating this to my secretary. She looks uncomfortable. This is awkward now.
Moving on. The initial attack isn’t even the best part of an invasion. Not for me, my favorite part comes later, when you’ve decimated the adversary and the planet’s gone quiet. You’ve got the drones out, hunting down the errant antagonists still in hiding. Your forces have killed the Praetorian Guard and pulled back on your orders; allowing you the honor of walking up the stairs to the emperor’s bedroom where you can lovingly wrap your tentacles around his head. And then, simply squeeze the life from him.
The Cardonian emperor was still wearing his pajamas when I found him. That’s a pretty good indicator of how surprised he was with our arrival. They were so soft and squishy, those Cardonians. I used to hug my hatchlings harder when saying goodnight to them.
While listening to the sound of his heart failing, a pretty melody if there ever was one, off in the distance I could hear the occasional plasmatic drone fire. I remember thinking that I was truly happy for the first time in my life. That was a good moment. I’ve done it again of course, hundreds of times, but that first one was…it was just special. It was like drawing my first breath after a lifetime of suffocating.
Nothing else in your life will ever measure up, not your first act of chemical genocide, or even intercourse with a living and willing participant. It’s the single finest moment any being can hope to achieve as a mortal in this universe. And I can give it to you; if you want it badly enough; if you’re willing to take my word as gospel and eschew that moralistic bullshit you’ve been preprogramed to believe that you believe in.
You need to do more than just simply read this book. You need to study it, absorb it: considering every point offered within. For if you master these battle-tested strategies, you can start a life dedicated to intergalactic warmongering. And what a life that will be.
Field Marshal S. Myrston
As a young cadet, Private Myrston led troops against the Victoriana rebellion where he earned a reputation as a fearless soldier and cunning tactician. His meteoric rise to emperor of the Molagrian Empire was paved with sound battle strategies, a winning smile and clever assassinations of several superior officers. As emperor, Myrston sought out and engaged in several hundred conflicts during his reign. It was during this period when he mastered several forms of invasion, administration and religious manipulation for profit. It was only through his iron fist and acute spreadsheeting skills that the Molagrian Empire was forged. In this text, Myrston has plagiarized wildly from Molagrian and Nebraxian textbooks to provide you with a concise set of tenets to guarantee intergalactic success. A recent arrival on the planet, he has taken human form and does not work for the Republican Party in the Unites States where his skills in planning and executing invasions has not helped them in some of their more recent endeavors. In his spare time he enjoys reading human military history, brewing and drinking coffee and rutting with cheap prostitutes. He has no surviving spawn or significant others which he proudly attributes to his paranoia and sound reasoning skills. He is the author of the highly unsuccessful: Why your children are going to kill and eat you; and the autobiographical love story that helped to popularize modern book burnings in several countries: Crumbs from Mereika’s Table.The Art and Science of Intergalactic Warmongery is out on March 25th
Paperback, Mar 25, 2016
978-1-78535-163-1
AMAZON US
e-book, Mar 25, 2016
978-1-78535-164-8
AMAZON US
Categories:
0 comments on this article
Leave a comment
