[Game] Party to Treason

[Despair's Archon of Memes]

... Do me a favor and just kill me. ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU GUYS WANT, ANYWAY?!

[Florien]

FUCK YEAH! Ya fuckin' fell for it. Ah GOT y'all! Eridan's a given, an' ya implicated mah junior officers! Now y'all are gonna be tortured until Ah feel better about mahself, we can clean this up, an' forget about all of this. Ah've got this all on video. Ah've got yer confessions on video. Ah've got recordins, Ah can authorize break ins, Ah can have all y'all who betrayed us assassinated. Ya fucked up! Ya fucked right up, yer audits aren't even in yet! Yer fuckin' idiots!! Ah'll get mah wings now for SURE! No more "jus' a sword" fer me!

Lanthanide is pacing around her office over the viewscreen, gesticulating wildly as she condemns the stupidity of the rebels, when three gunshots ring out over the audio feed.

Lanthanide is incapable of facial expressions, but her sudden stopping does seem to indicate surprise as she turns to face whatever just happened, three holes in her uniform having appeared, plasma leaking out of them.

Ah... you?

...

Then a fourth gunshot hits her through the head, and whatever forces are confining her plasma body break apart, leaving only some tungsten structures and the symbol that passed for her face behind, her uniform melting, her body exploding in a series of jets, igniting some parts of the room she's in. Fire extinguisher foam quickly covers the fire, and there's a pause as Colonel Valdragon steps into frame, flanked by two guards who grab what's left of Lanthanide, holding a smoking gun.

Erase the footage, burn the documents. Lanthanide was officially a traitor who got what she deserved. The rebel threat was officially worse than previously imagined, and we had to purge the entire board of directors.

The doors to the war room lock, shutters descend over the windows. All ten people are trapped inside.

Good job, Steve. You read the documents and kept going after my agent was eliminated. Good job, Eridan, George, Pinky, Brain. You did fine setting this up. I will not apologize for not telling you and for coming after you during your whole cover-up debacle. Frankly, I would much rather kill you all to keep my running of this little coup attempt as secret as possible, but you managed to buy enough time for me to purge a captain who was getting far too close to the truth. She'd have turned me in in an instant to get her wings. I don't want to reward you, but killing you would be bad for me also. So I'm going to get you into the escape line. You'll be smuggled out. Assuming you survive the inevitable multiple assassination attempts the Alliance uses on Ex-regime personnel who flee the country, you should be reasonably safe. Maybe you can even write a book or something. As for the rest of you, you're not leaving this room. If you attempt to, it doesn't end well for you. Stay put while I decide what to do with you.

One door opens, leading to a balcony.

Rebels, out that door. I'll beam you aboard a craft. Anyone else tries to go through, only death awaits. I'll seal the door behind, and you can try to convince me why you should be spared. Maybe I'll be merciful.

[Despair's Archon of Memes]

... I... I don't deserve mercy. I failed everyone I could have ever failed..
Just kill me now. I'm no better than fucking dirt.

Monaca just... Cries in complete despair over everything that has just transpired...

When I had the power to influence everything... To guide everyone... I FUCKED IT UP. HARD. ... I couldn't do it! I couldn't do this! I couldn't save anyone at that island... I couldn't succeed Big Sis... I couldn't even do this job! I'm a fucking failure! And nothing more!

Monaca just crawls over to Valdragon...

So please... Kill me. End my pitiful and worthless existence. So no one has to suffer under my ineptitude.

[Mr. Lee Hammer]

You sure I can't choke that little brat to death?

Regardless, George decides to forget about Asuka. He's won. He listens to Valdragon as he goes out the door as instructed. Probably the first sensible thing he does all throughout the game.

[MadeOfMilk]

Steve walks towards the open balcony, a confident swagger in his step. However, before finally stepping outside, he stops in the doorway, turns to the Loyalists, and salutes them while blowing raspberries.

That's the last any of the hapless Loyalists ever see of Tankman Steve. Nothing but mockery before he finally leaves the War Room for good.

[wingedcatgirl]

Mark is still out cold, not seeing any of this. If he wakes up to see the rebels gone, he'll probably believe whatever explanation he gets.

He obviously can't argue this angle to Valdragon, though, since a: he is out cold and b: it relies on his own complete ignorance of what Valdragon is actually doing. But perhaps the Colonel will notice it on his own.

[Cassie]

Bandu is seething, sobbing, catching mold, and is probably gonna suffer the consequences of earthquaking the building earlier than 35 years.

[PointMaid]

:( I'm sorry for deceiving you all. But, Brain, well. He's my best friend. And he wants to take over the world, er, the Alliance, so...

...I'm not sorry. We save our own skins and, incidentally, get a little closer to talking over the Alliance. Come on, Pinky.

The mice hop down from where they were, scurry over to the balcony, and through the door.

[Zanreo]

"...What you say? What the FUCK you say? And now... trapped? How did he not see this coming... how did they not all?

[Kennifer]

Eridan, now grinning wickedly, heads out the door with an overly dramatic swish of his cape.

[Florien]

Excellent.

You never should have trusted the chief medical examiner or coroner or whatever. That position is always up to something, I promise you. Selling organs or doing something more devious than that. Not that it matters, you're not going to get out.

The door to the balcony shuts behind the last of the rebels, who are promptly beamed out to be (presumably) smuggled away.

Anyway, seeing as it's a fact that there were ten here and that some of you will be missing... there can't be any bodies left. You can keep pleading for mercy, but it doesn't matter. I armed the explosives in the walls before any of you even left. Your bodies will not be found, because there won't be any bodies left. Then the building should collapse, and Allfield will get a new board of directors, and you shall go down as being traitors all. Your legacy will be a ruin and nothing else. Goodbye.

The monitor turns off, leaving only a black screen and a sense of hopelessness.

You have one hour before the end. There is nothing you can do.

Any last words?

[Despair's Archon of Memes]

... Just end it all. I don't care anymore.

Monaca just closes her eyes, fully embracing her fate...

So this is how I die... The Li'L Ultimate Failure.

Monaca just spreads her arms and feet out on the floor... Anxiously waiting for the sweet release of death itself... What little of an impact Monaca had made... Is now in complete shambles. Her reputation as the successor to the Ultimate Despair... Her memories upon the island where she first encountered the Alliance... And the events that transpired to lead up to this... All of it... Enveloped in eternal darkness.

Monaca... Just smiles, and proceeds to fall into a deep slumber... That she fully knows she will never wake up from...

[wingedcatgirl]

... Nope. Mark stays passed out. Probably a mercy, honestly.

[Florien]

Nothing was going to end well.

Lanthanide is dead. The rebels are fled. The loyalists await their death in the room. They tried their hardest to save the Alliance even on its lowest levels, but already a crisis is underway.

They will not be alive to see it conclude.

Then the last minute ticks by. A series of fireballs engulf the Allfield government building's top floor, killing all remaining members of the board, their bodies blasted to shreds. The floor caves in, and the building's top leans and falls down through the lower floors, as the entire main building falls apart. Smoke rises from burning ruins as a small spacecraft heads outside of range of the planet. Allfield will survive without the board for a while. It will have to. Hundreds will die in the ensuing chaos, more than died in the collapse of the building, at any rate.

Security forces move in to clean up the mess. Allfield becomes an embarrassing blip in an otherwise generally good record of Alliance controlling of rebel situations. In time, the events will be largely forgotten, at best confined to a few biographies about the time the escapees spent there, assuming they evade the inevitable assassination attempts, by poison, by bullet, and by other such things.

Some weeks later, in a long-unused boardroom in a space-station office, built in space more for the prestige than actual use, some Political Officer Captains, including Lanthanide's replacement, gather.

Colonel Valdragon opens the meeting.

Four of you are against me. One spying on me, sent, no doubt, by my commander. Three who will be moving to aid that spy however possible. I intend to find out which ones those are, and remove you. Bloodily. Know only that I cannot afford to merely replace all of you, and that is the only reason I haven't had you all shot yet. So, what are you going to do about it? I'll tell you what I'll be doing about it. I'm cutting you all off from the Alliance until I can find the traitors. I will be screening your work for coded messages, and when I'm done, I'll know exactly who among you are betraying me.

End of Party To Treason One.