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Unwelcome Interruption

2041.

“How are you doing tonight, Mr. t'Osgar?”

Mr. t'Osgar, a Regulian in the prime of his youth, sat in a leather chair on the set. In a blink of an eye, the facade of a cozy hunting lodge with a roaring fire became something more real. The cold sands of winter in Haven seeped through the window, it was never possible to keep them out, and the smell of fresh blood and searing meat wafted from offstage.

Another blink. Mr. t'Osgar was in the corner, staring at himself on the chair. A bruise across his muzzle flared up, angry cursing came from the abattoir.

Did he ever feel small…

“Mr. t'Osgar? Primath?”

Eyes fluttering, Primath shook his head and ran a paw through his golden mane, patting down a stray lick of fur.

“My apologies,” Primath cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his hot pink suit. “I confess, I have never been one for interviews, not to be an ungracious guest. I have always been more of a thinker.”

Twirling a claw beside his temple, Primath continued, “Endless, endless ideas just…bouncing away up here, you know? I can never have enough time for all of it.”

“Well…” Padri, the yellow-furred Vulpeculan hosting the show, tapped his claw on his desk and the tiniest twitch of a grin crept up his black lips.

Primath braced himself.

“If only you had thought more about your choice in clothes!”

The audience chuckled.

“Hey!” the host stood up and jeered towards the crowd. “Hands up, who here has spectrum implants? Alright, we got a few…tell me, what hurt more: the surgery or looking at this pink disgrace?”

Padri’s jokes were all scripted and approved by System To System Media, Primath was aware of them. They were light hearted and jocular, but not meant to be overly mean.

Though his choice in fashion being notable enough to make it as a joke on a script came as a surprise to him on first reading.

“Nothing…” Primath’s throat clenched, “...hurt more than the surgery! Certainly not my pink delight!”

Primath’s voice was overcome by the audience who were still laughing and shouting out comments about how awful his clothes were.

“Pink delight!” Primath called out again.

There was a beat of pure silence. Padri clacked his claws.

“But uh…we’re not here to roast your style,” Padri tugged at the red bow-tie clinging to his throat. “We’re here to discuss the groundbreaking, epic-scale, role-playing game, Utopian System, due to hit the Extranet in 2035! Hey, uh, Primath, what year is it?”

The crowd chuckled.

“Uh…yeah, so, initial release dates are…for a project that’s really, really passion-driven you can never really take the initial…” Primath’s tongue felt like sandpaper. “...look, our vision is bigger than a solid release date, okay? It means more than that, it means-”

“Getting your father arrested for treason and his money cut off?”

“Look, that was only a small factor and he was acquitted!”

“And his money?”

Primath had a snappy joke to respond with, but it was stuck, stuck lurking in hiding in the back of his brain and not coming out.

“He uh…felt that investment…economy…the economy could be invested better elsewhere in the economy.”

“Pheeeeeew,” Padri whistled. “Folks, I haven’t seen someone bomb this much since the invasion of Earth!”

“Ooooooooooooo!” the crowd sneered.

“Hey!” Primath pointed a claw. “A lot of good people died in that war, good people! You know how many humans I got on my dev team? You know how many had relatives who died when we came in, guns blazing?”

“I didn’t-”

Primath’s heart swelled. The sneaky little Vulpeculan was on the ropes now. His people could tell a good joke but when you pushed back…

“I’m making a game about a better world, okay? And I have a team made up with species parity across the Regulian Empire! And you better believe that emancipating Ursine and Equuleians after the war wasn’t easy!”

“Easy when you’re rich and-”

“Do you even know how many dinners I had to arrange with private investors to get them to approve that? How many parties?”

The crowd laughed and Primath grew proud.

“Sure, it may not be a System to System project, but it means a lot to me and countless aliens who have invested in our dream!”

Primath stood up and swept his paw across his pants, clearing off invisible dust.

“And with that, I say, good day!” Primath pointed at the crowd. “And I’ll see you all at the launch party, everyone’s invited, okay? Tell the galaxy, tell Jolt, Hashtag Everyonesinvited!”

As Primath exited without so much as bowing towards the host, the crowd roared. Primath held his head, high off the scent of public victory, and strutted backstage.

“Mr. t'Osgar,” a scrawny, short Sirian with brown fur started to jog beside him, “it’s-”

“I’m done here,” Primath whipped out a phone and pretended to take a call. “Tell it to my assistant, okay?”

“Wh-” the Sirian paused, “no, it’s-”

“Assistant!” Primath roared and pushed open the emergency exit door, emerging into a back alley.

Immediately, the Regulian put away his phone and waved triumphantly.

Look stoic for the Regulians…smile for the others…

But there was only one reporter in the alleyway, who quietly took one picture the moment Primath realized he had not retained the crowd of paparazzi he had paid for earlier, and then scampered off.

The door shut behind with a loud clang.

“Gary, Gary, Gary…” Primath rumbled.

Emerging out of the alleyway, Primath lost all hope for a surprise ambush by the press and found himself on a concerningly empty street in downtown Hashan’s Hope. Only a few random folk and a black limo were there and Primath quickly abandoned hope of attention and got in the car.

“Lets get the fuuuuuck outta here,” Primath slurred at the driver, who was behind a one-way mirror, invisible to passengers. It was a System to System car and Primath’s dad had some particular obsession with never laying eyes upon drivers, viewing them as less than normal employees and servants. “Chop, chop!”

“Sir,” a voice so muffled by static that one could not even identify which species it was whispered, “I’ve gotten calls from your assistant, he said-”

“Gary can wait!” Primath slapped the mirror. “It’s only a five minute drive, lets goooooo, okay?”

“Very well, sir.”

The limo hummed to life and floated across the road, turning a corner. The studio’s massive sign passed by the limo, advertising itself with the name Primath had grown up with.

System to System Studios.

A statue of Grand Duke Aloth t'Osgar Jr. stood proudly in front of the glass entrance, surrounded by fountains, including one that shot an arc of water behind it; imitating the Imperial Arch in a bit of jocular treason against the Emperor.

Flicking his middle finger up at the marble image of his father, an insult a human taught him, Primath sneered. This place was his father’s worst investment, as far as Primath was concerned, a dead weight across the company’s portfolio of tech companies including a near-monopoly on Crown Extranet contracts. Who needed conventional news and talk media?

Where are all the crowds?

The entire planet itself was the capital of the Empire but Hashan’s Hope was the capital of the capital. It almost felt to Primath like everyone had stayed indoors just for the sole purpose of not seeing him.

It’s okay, once the hashtag starts trending on Jolt, it’ll all be worth it.

Primath looked at his datapad for any alerts on Joly, saw none, and shut off his device.

Pressing the call button on the speaker of the limo, Primath spoke.

“Hey, uh…so you know I’m not like my dad, right?”

There was nothing but silence from the other end.

“Soooooo, if you want to talk about your family and stuff, or what shows you’ve watched, that’d be cool,” Primath stretched his legs. “You seen the latest trailer for Utopian System? Think we cruuuuushed it, gonna be hot!”

“Sir,” the hazy voice rasped, “we’re given explicit orders for no small talk, I would ask that you respect that.”

“Hey, look, when I take over, that’s all going away! A big, bright, brave new world! If pops fires you, just give me a call and I’ll get you a job at Utopian Interactive! If you’re a slave, just say my name and I’ll make some calls. I’m not like the old man, okay? Okay?”

“Thank you, sir,” there was a pause. “But for now, I would prefer to respect your esteemed father’s wishes.”

“Totally get it!” Primath paused and then leaned back into the speaker. “You might like Utopian System though, it’s, you know, got a lot of action and killing, but it’s set in an alternative, more equitable world, where every alien in our galaxy is its own faction, independent and uh…you can work together on equal terms to fight the Lacertans. It’s like…really just out of this world you know, because it’s a whole other world?”

“We’re here.”

The limo suddenly came to a stop.

“Good talk, good talk, hey, can I give you a tip?”

“I would prefer not, it’s against your father’s policy.”

“Invest in System to System right now. Something big is coming and you wanna get in on it. It’s gonna be out of this galaxy.”

Primath stepped out of the limo and gazed upon his personal glory.

Utopian Interactive. The name blazed across the crown of the glass complex towering in bright, neon lights that slowly switched across the color spectrum. It was more of a tiny town, crammed into a campus, complete with a quarters, a restaurant, bar, recreation complex and even a tiny forest in the courtyard.

Primath sniffed the air, taking in the sweet pollen of the forest. The cost of irrigating the place on an arid planet like Regulus Prime was worth it just for the rare bit of calm it brought him each day.

Barging into the lobby, Primath announced his presence.

“Hey, who caught the interview with everyone’s favorite CEO?”

Once again, there was no one around. The lobby and programming rooms were part of an open concept design, one where Primath could look across from one end of the room and gaze upon every link in the chain of his business, and every inch of it was empty.

Primath could smell his employees had been there, a veritable buffet of scents. Perhaps they were taking a Dynamic Lunch, Primath let them do as many of those as they wanted as long as they reached productivity goals.

“Alright guys, keep cruuuushing it!”

Stepping up the sweeping staircase with polished quartz steps, Primath emerged onto the executive floor, which overlooked the entire area below. Upon approaching his office, Primath finally saw the first sign of life.

“Sir!” the human receptionist stood up. His eyes were red, tears soaking his cheeks. “Did you get my messages?”

“Gary…” Primath planted his paws on the human, who was utterly dwarfed by the much more powerful Regulian, “...I love you man, I really do, but the press turnout today was a bummer!”

“Gary?” the human paused. “Your dad sold Gary to the Emperor’s harem, I’m Rick.”

Primath paused, sniffing at the air in front of the human’s face. He smelled exactly like Gary. Were they related?

“You hired me last week and uh, I’m not a slave so I don’t think you can sniff me like that without asking…I mean, I don’t care but HR…” Rick cleared his throat. “But that’s not-”

“Rick, okay,” Primath patted him on the shoulder, “you’re new, that’s cool, we all make mistakes but…man…just make sure we get a refund on the press, okay?”

“Right, about that, I think they-”

Primath opened the door to his office, the only room that had solid walls allowing for privacy, “Hey, so where is everyone? I don’t care if they’re taking a lunch, you know, I try to treat everyone cool, right? Just would kinda like to know.”

“Well-”

Sitting on his chair, Primath kicked up his feet onto the top of his desk and peered at the ten monitors flashing away. Some were showing footage of the game in development, others were showing stock prices, but most were locked onto specific cameras set up across the office.

And the lunch room was packed to the brim with just about every employee, huddled around the television. Equuleians and Ursines in the back while humans and Vulpeculans nearly had their noses pressed up against the screen.

“Sir!” Rick finally managed to get a word in. “It’s your father…”

Colonel Uloth t’Osgar always was keen on watching the massive red sun of Beta Carinae vanish beneath the horizon each night. It brought out the romantic in him, watching the most distant star under Regulian heel vanish into the night and bathe his post in darkness.

This was the first bulwark that would be targeted should the enemy come, Uloth always figured.

It didn’t matter that the Empire had no enemies after the removal of the Lacertans, none except those that lurked within. One day a new enemy would come and Uloth would be there, the very first soldier of the Regulian Empire, ready to fend them off and defend every soul to his dying breath.

The path of a soldier was not an easy one. It was an honor, a duty, and a calling.

“...One that every citizen should aspire to…”

Uloth tapped the screen and the now-dark horizon vanished, replaced with a word processor. The Colonel lowered the microphone from his muzzle and frowned, observing all of the spelling mistakes the dictation software had left behind.

“By the Emperor…” Uloth scowled, slowly scrolling through and correcting each error one by one, “...nothing works anymore, we’re truly an Empire in decline.”

“You’ve conquered the known galaxy and you think you’re in decline?”

Uloth peered back at his slave, Snow, a white Equuileian with rippling muscles. A steel collar was wrapped around Snow’s thick neck, while he twirled a loose leather harness around with his hand.

“The conquered would not understand,” Uloth huffed, sticking out his chest. Much like the rest of the t’Osgar clan, he had golden fur that was radiant even under the dim light of the computer monitor. There was not so much a blemish or scar on the Regulian’s athletic body, something Uloth took pride in as a sign of his victories. “The strong need goals, new conquests, lest we turn weak. One day, Emperor forbid, if father were to pass…I think a bit of strength would do the company quite nice.”

Snow flexed his muscles and grinned, showing off his square, polished teeth, “Care to wrestle to see who’s stronger?”

Uloth snorted with laughter, “It is more than mere strength of body. It’s a matter of strength of will, of mind, of-”

“-superalien will. Yes, I’ve read your Jolt feed.”

Uloth paused, a message came in on the datapad. He only needed to see the header, that was enough to get him to push himself off of the bed and stand up straight.

“I have to go…”

Buttoning up his uniform and covering up his chest, Uloth’s paws began to shake.

“Back to Beta Carinae?” Snow asked. “But your shore leave is supposed to be-”

“No,” Uloth swallowed. His throat was closing in on itself, why was it so hard to say it?”

The Regulian walked up to the wall of his bedroom and leaned his forehead against it.

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tight against the powerful body of his slave. Uloth closed his eyes, taking in the earthy musk of his slave, imagining there was nothing there but the two of them.

Just darkness and them.

“It’s father…”

“Stay with me!”

The world was spinning and shaking in ways that Quroth could never imagine. The news on Jolt shocked him, sending him flopping to the floor of the limo in convulsions.

The drugs didn’t help either.

Quroth wasn’t sure what he’d injected, just that it was some kinda painkiller, hell, chances are even Ilayo didn’t know. Quroth sure as hell hoped the Vulpeculan did know, because he was rooting through his backpack and tossing a hospital’s worth of drugs out.

“Help…” Quroth choked, spitting out foam. “Filter p-”

“Filter pills interact with these, just shut up and stay with me!” Quroth held a large syringe in his jaw as he continued to root through.

The driver was quiet, just as Quroth’s father liked them. He was no doubt watching one of his bosses’ sons die right before him and there was nothing he could do or say.

“Okay!”

The smell of alcohol invaded Quroth’s nose, briefly waking him up out of his stupor just in time to see Ilayo raise the syringe high and plunge it down into Quroth’s heart.

It didn’t hurt, not even a little bit, which just made Quroth feel even more dead. Surely he was dead, right?

Quroth breathed in. His muscles went still, save for a few nervous twitches. His throat was dry, but no longer caving in on itself.

He was alive, somewhat.

The syringe slowly slipped out of his chest, followed by a spurt of blood. Ilayo pressed a pad onto the wound with one paw and grabbed a roll of gauze with the other.

“Put your paw here,” Ilayo grabbed Quroth’s paw and put it on the pad. “Press down.”

Quroth obeyed as the Vulpeculan began wrapping gauze around his master’s chest.

“Can’t believe I learned about his death on fucking Jolt.”

“He’s not dead.”

“Father said…” Quroth blinked. His stomach still felt queasy, this wasn’t the right time for this to happen, “...you know what he said?”

“No.”

“Everything will go to me, you know?”

“I told you, he’s not dead.”

“No…but…”

“Don’t talk like that,” Ilayo patted Quroth on the cheek. “We’re here, can you stand up?”

“Feels like a million Equuleians stomping on my brain…”

“Can you stand?”

“Ugh…” Quroth curled his toes and stretched his legs, “...yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll wait in the car,” Ilayo leaned in and pressed his black nose against Quroth’s forehead, “be strong.”

“Come with me…”

“You know your father despises me.”

“He won’t know.”

“He will.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Ilayo flung the door open and the blue sun of Regulus Prime immediately assaulted Quroth’s eyes, causing him to shy away in pain. Snarling, he reached for a pair of large, round sunglasses and slipped them onto the bridge of his muzzle. It helped a bit, just enough to get him out of the car.

Quroth’s legs were wobbly but he ran straight to the hospital doors and banged on them.

“Lemme in, lemme in!”

A female Regulian with orange fur and stripes appeared behind a security booth’s plexiglass next to the door, “Name?”

“Quroth Fucking t’Osgar! Got two whole wings with our name on it, so let me in!”

The guard wrinkled her muzzle but complied, opening the doors with a sharp beep. Quroth ran inside, immediately banging his shin on a wheelchair that was lying in the hall and thankfully not in use by a patient.

“Fuck!” Quroth cursed, but continued his sprint down the hall.

Barging into an empty elevator, Quroth rapidly pressed the button for the fifth floor along with the door close button in succession.

“Fuck, come on, come on!”

The doors finally began to close and a voice called out.

“Hold the door!”

Grabbing the rim of the elevator door, Quroth forced it to open back up. A doctor and a pair of nurses, all Lupiad, rushed in a Regulian on a stretcher. Dried foam curled up at the corners of the Regulian’s lip, even through his coat of fur, Quroth could see how pale he was.

Was this how I looked?

“Thank you,” one of the nurses whispered before returning to the patient.

Quroth couldn’t keep his eye off of the patient, not until the elevator stopped off at the fourth floor and he was rolled away. Quroth sat in silence, alone, until the elevator reached its final destination.

Pushing his way past the doors the moment they cracked, Quroth turned and sped down the hall, ignoring a nurse calling out from her station that he needed to check in.

Quroth immediately came to a halt upon seeing a familiar crowd standing in the hall.

Primath with another god-awful suit, yakking away on his phone about his business.

Uloth in his uniform, reeking of Equuleian sweat. The toy soldier standing proudly.

And the worst of all, Valerie. The human slave was standing there, firmly blocking the door where their father was staying, her sparkling golden collar with diamonds giving a clear message of the level of trust and power she had despite being a slave. Along with her sharp, gray business suit, it was clear she was much more than a mere fuckslave.

“Ah, you’re here,” Valerie pushed her thin spectacles up across her nose. She was about the same age as the Regulian sons, but the first traces of gray hairs and crows feet were showing on her otherwise porcelain smooth face. “That’s everyone except…”

A little jingle rang from Valerie’s purse and she unclasped it, pulling out a datapad.

“Would you get a table, please?” Valerie pointed at Quroth.

It pissed him off something fierce, but Quroth restrained himself. Last thing he needed was an aneurysm after his overdose. He grabbed a little end table by a nurse station and placed it against the wall.

Valerie balanced her datapad on the table and leaned it on the wall before hitting accept on the call.

A giant black nose appeared on the screen.

“The fuck is he doing here?” Quroth muttered.

“He is legally adopted even if the circumstances were not…” Valerie cleared her throat, “...ideal.”

“Hello? Hello?” a loud voice barked. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes!” Primath shouted. “You’re too close to the camera.”

“HELLOOOOOOOO!” the voice shouted again. “CAN YOU HEAR ME!?”

Clutching his forehead, Quroth tried to suppress his headache, “He’s got the speakers off…”

“Daglow!” Uloth shouted. “Your speakers are off!”

“Fucking genius over here,” Quroth muttered.

The black nose suddenly pulled back and a pair of blue eyes at the end of a long, black muzzle appeared, their pupils growing large.

“OH!” the Lupiad exclaimed. “I’VE GOT THE SPEAKERS OFF!”

There was a sharp tap and Daglow’s entire face finally came into view. The Lupiad was as dark as night and covered in soil and hay, his shirtless chest on display for all to see. In the background, Equuleian slaves could be seen toiling in grain fields under the blazing hot sun of Haven, Aloth’s personally owned planet and the fiefdom of his Grand Duke title.

“Can you hea-”

“YES!” Quroth snapped.

“Sheesh, no need for the attitude, brother!” Daglow licked his nose. “Sorry I’m late to call, work on dad’s crown jewel never ends! What’s going on?”

Valerie brushed aside a strand of blond hair from her green eyes, “Earlier today, while performing an interview at System to System Studios, your father, my master, the Grand Duke of Haven, began acting strange. He managed to survive the interview but upon getting backstage he collapsed.”

“The fuck!?” Primath shouted, curling his muzzle back. “Dad was at the studio!? No one told me!”

“It was listed on the inner family shared calendar,” Valerie closed her eyes. “I don’t think a request for your new assistant to get access was given yet.”

“I am going to kill whoever fucked that up!”

Valerie stared firmly at Primath before continuing, “The Grand Duke was admitted here and was found to have suffered a severe stroke and the prospects…I am sorry.”

“Just…” Uloth’s jaw quivered, “...I mean, just…he survived the heart attack, just had to get another heart and…”

“As of right now, his brain…” Valerie cleared her throat, “...there is very little doctors can do. There’s always a chance he could break out of his coma but it’s very much a dice roll at this point.”

“No way,” Primath looked over at the door, “dad? Dying? No way, not at a chance, you don’t know him like we do, okay? He’s going to break out of this and he’ll be back to terrorizing the world, you’ll see!”

“As the Grand Duke’s personal assistant and legal counsel,” Valerie pulled out a sheet of paper and flashed it in front of the siblings, “I’m to take control as power of attorney and executor, should the worst come to happen.”

“Executor?” Quroth raised his brow. “When the fuck did that happen?”

“What kind of ruse is this?” Uloth demanded, puffing out his chest.

“Come on, guys, come on,” Primath stood between his two brothers. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation. If dad trusted her…”

“WHAT’S GOING ON!?” Daglow barked.

“Dad’s slut is gonna pull the plug on him!” Quroth shouted over his shoulder.

“Classy as always, Quroth,” Valerie rolled her eyes.

“If you so much as do anything to harm dad, I’ll…” Uloth snorted and snarled.

“I intend to honor his wishes and keep him on life support indefinitely.”

“Wait, really?” Uloth softened his posture.

“That’s great!” Daglow exclaimed. “Dad’ll come back even if it takes a hundred years!”

“Wait, uh…” Primath smacked his lips, “...I’m not sure how to…uh…if he’s on life support that means…”

“Just say it, the will,” Quroth snapped. “You want to know about the will.”

Valerie nodded, “Since the Grand Duke is on life support, obviously his will cannot be acted upon until…the worst happens.”

The room was silent. The tension in the air was intolerable and each of the siblings wanted to say what was really on their mind without disgracing themselves.

“So…” Uloth crossed his arms behind his back, “...dad will keep on fighting.”

“So who the fuck is in charge of the company?” Quroth demanded. He paused and then opened up his mouth to continue, but then let his unspoken statement die in his brain.

It would be crass to point out that father had promised everything to him and him alone.

“System to System will get an acting CEO until a vote can be called on an interim CEO. Your father declared that should be me.”

“What the fuck!?” Quroth shouted.

“Right, uh…” Primath licked his lips, “...it’s uh, nothing against you personally but…you’re a slave and…”

“There’s no law against it if acting in one’s master’s name,” Valerie passed the paper to Primath who immediately began scanning the document. “I’d suggest you familiarize yourself with this before the next board meeting. I’m sure you can all come to an agreement on who should be interim CEO.”

Nodding her head, Valerie stepped to the side.

“But first, you must pay respects to your father.”

The human slowly stepped away, her heels clicking as she went further down the hallway. The brothers, save for Daglow, watched her vanish from sight.

“What just happened!?” Daglow demanded.

“I think we just got played,” Quroth said.