7: The Magnificent Raiders of Dimension War 1

By Dante D'Anthony

4217, a dark age in the galaxy after a series of wars have left civilization battered. The wars' horrors have opened a portal from another Dimension and strange shape-shifting psychic vampire demons ("Hyper-Bogies") are swarming in, possessing the bodies of humans and eating their souls.
The most powerful government in the Galaxy, the Transhuman Overlords, are covering it up for fear of panic and further breakdown of civilization. One Transhuman Overlord, however, presses against the Overlord Council and sends a Female Super-spy (Sulla) and a Fleet general (Ossa) on a mission to find the Bogies and a way to fight them.
Sulla and Ossa spread out across the galaxy, teaming up with a psychic archaeologist, dangerous smugglers, and even more dangerous gangster/pirates, on a series of adventures to unlock the mysteries of the Bogies.
Caught between the Transhuman Overlord Council and the Imminent complete breach our dimension by the soul eating Bogies, the future of the Human race depends on the dash and dare and courage of this strange collection of Magnificent Raiders.

David was staring. “You’re a masterpiece, Sissy-a real work of
art. Beauty and the beast all rolled into one...our very own femme
fatale?
“You have two things to remember lest you go AWOL on us.
One- you’re body is real. You’re a genetically engineered
superwoman. Your lifespan, without enhancement is five centuries.
So you have something to live for. I’ve pressed the Overlord
council to waive entirely the charges for treason that had been
pressed against you from your previous incarnation. Secondly, well,
there’s this.”
He tossed a small purple cube over on the bed.
“I suggest you don’t look at it until you’ve given yourself a few
days to acclimate yourself to the real universe again. It’s rather
disturbing.
“We’ve commandeered you a small ship, nicely appointed I
might add. Aspects of your former self will start to begin to come
back into your awareness over time. Yes...you’re sensing it now.
Yes dear, you were a woman.”
Suddenly they were not alone. Lourdes was standing in the
middle of the room. “Well David, can’t tear yourself away from her
now that we’ve restored her can you? Tsk, tsk, love never dies, after
all this time. She betrayed you once, and now here she lays in full
glory. Only you would have given her another chance. Off with her
then! The transfer is complete; she’s in the flesh now, going on and
kiss her goodbye.”

Cicero looked over and saw a flash of annoyance in David’s
eye, but the sardonic and cold heart that never melted remained on
the lips. “Kiss kiss” he said. He formed an “O” with his mouth as if
to blow her a kiss and he faded away.
Now Lourdes was staring. “Devil woman, ha! Look at you. He’s
given you it all back and more. The irony. Well Lisa-“
Lisa!
“You’re Lisa Lynne Sulla. You’re an art dealer officially; black
market unofficially. I want to know what the empath is doing,
which is problematic for you...but if anyone can wrap a lie around
a promise and slip it between his ribs with a kiss-well...never mind.
Since your personality is subdued under layers of memory blocks
he’ll have a...devil of a time sorting you out.
“One more thing- I’m not as much as a lovesick puppy as Omm
was- you’ll not get a centuries in virtreal as a tortured construct if
you cross me. You’ll get a virtual hell, and I’ll make sure you’re the
last living thing on the planet before that hell goes offline. Got it?”
Lisa said softly: “Got it.”
Lourdes looked at the purple cube on the bed. She frowned.
“Then there’s that.” A dark shadow swept across her face like the grave, and she was gone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dante D'Anthony
• Release date: Jul 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301218523

Dante D'Anthony

From South Buffalo New York. Producer, writer, artist. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm4873327/Currently heading up the launch of the “Pandoran Age Chronicles” franchise and the “Magnificent Raiders of Dimension War 1” feature film. D’Anthony has worked in Finance, NYSE Licensed broker with AG Edwards. He has worked in Commercial finance and project development in Miami with $70M in assets under management as the personal assistant to the owners at DCA International Real Estate and several high end Design, Architectural, and Development firms working on numbers of projects from conception through all aspects of Design Development, Financing, and Project management. In 2003 he won the Florida Communities Trust Grant ($6M) with his designs for parks in Southwest Ranches Florida. He has owned and managed two art publishing companies that have published art on clothing with national retailer accounts while maintaining ongoing bricks and mortar galleries. His current venture (a full animated studio launch) with a major Hollywood Producer involved includes a complete matrix of a feature film and merchandising franchise and a full console video game. Education: Undergraduate work at SUNY Buffalo, across from the venerable Albright Knox, Bachelor of Science in Design 1985 with a Concentration in Urban & Environmental Design. Included were seminars in Urban Planning and Design, and studios Interior Des, minor in Art History. At FIU in Miami graduate level Coursework in Fine Art & Special Education (continuing certification for Florida Department of Education) included figure drawing studies under the noted Richard Duncan. Additional Graduate Work in Architecture, Florida Atlantic University School of Architecture. NYSE Series 7 broker License, A.G. Edwards And Associates. U.S. Army reserves Corporal.

Book preview

Copyright © 2013

Chronos Productions Motion Picture Studios

All rights reserved

SMASHWORDS EDITION

For Michelle

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 6

–Dante D’Anthony 6

The Yellow Jaguar 8

Rip orbit, Sagittarius Arm, 4217 8

And you will know us by the trail of our dead 19

Chrysalis Isla, Orion Arm 4217 19

Deneb IV 40

SILURIAN NEBULA 60

ABOUT THE AUTHOR 102

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To all the people gone, who in their own original ways were Magnificent Raiders.

–Dante D’Anthony

Roy Rudder

The Yellow Jaguar

Rip orbit, Sagittarius Arm, 4217

Blowfish brains and dancing dolphins!

Why the Captain had decided to go off on his own, on some trip down memory lane, when the entire galaxy was poised on the edge of horrific invasion from extra dimensional soul sucking things that could rip you from normal space, drag you into their bizarre folded and curled dimensions like Hermit crabs from hell snatching a slug, and digest your soul in a series of primordial, acidic nightmares that could last for centuries, well, Sagamore Salvatore couldn’t fathom.

Mingya!

His mind raced for various curses of various worlds but little came to mind. But there it was. Inexplicable; an enigma wrapped in a mystery with a couple of holes drilled in it so it was an extra pain in the petard.

The Captain’s com was being shielded-someone was blocking communication, and the Captain probably wasn’t even aware of it.

A trap.

Sag moved down the dark brick and stone alley of the red light district like he owned it. He sneered with disdain; Outworlds. Lame preindustrial Architecture, bad organic booze-if you’re going to sin, why there?

He saw the neon and second rate hologram:

The Yellow Jaguar

Steve Allman

He knocked once; a blue face appeared in a peephole. What?

What?? You gotta be kidding me. Sag swung one back kick and the door collapsed. His motion never ceased. The Blue face was hit once, twice, three times. The man had grabbed a rifle but it was too late.

Sag had his disser out, the man’s arms twisted around his back, and the disser pressed against the back of his head before he could engage his rifle.

Tell me where my Captain is. Tell me where my Captain is NOW! Sag bellowed. The whole nightclub became silent.

Winteroud Sole stepped through the door after Sagamore, and adjusted his collar. Well! I see we’ve made our entrance, and a grand one at that.

Mr. Gibbon followed in behind and the whole club was doubly shocked. Androids, even chromium thirty-second century androids were a rarity this far from Cyborgian Central and the Republics.

Gibbon looked over at Sagamore who still held the bouncer with his disser at his head. Then he looked at the club full of gawking patrons. He raised his chin, What?

Where is my Captain?! Sagamore bellowed again.

It was Sole who answered, looking up at the ceiling, He’s upstairs talking to Jane.

At the sound of the name Jane, every face in the club turned away and the bouncer added, Now you know. If you let go of me, I’ll take you to see Jane.

Even through the ceiling, through the decades, Sole could feel Vincent’s memories of this place and Jane hammering like an iron and nickel asteroid hitting the dark, icy atmosphere of some ammonia seas and ice crust moonlet in mining camp nightmare: Vince and Andrew clambered up a winding stair of fern wood, worn with smooth indentations. They went up, and then through a series of locked chambers. Jane was waiting. An ancient prune of

humble origins, she'd amassed some wealth through patience and stealth, but hungered always for something more. She looked at Vince as if he brought fond memories of her younger days...

Sole recognized the winding fern wood stairwell from Vincent’s memories. The coral table- the room had changed not at all.

Vince was standing alone with Jane. She was not, however, the gnomish creature of Vincent’s memory. She was young and fabulous. Somehow Jane had changed. She’d had a complete body replacement-either her brain or her consciousness implanted directly into a new body.

Then, suddenly, Sole knew-yes, the brain had been transplanted. And the body; she was a clone of herself. She had been fabulous-now she was fabulous again.

Sole’s mind spun in the shock and disbelief Vince was feeling-for here, in Jane’s Yellow Jaguar club-the truth of what she had done was like a sudden reckoning of having conversed with the dead.

Jane had become Leyla Veronica. Vincent’s memories again flayed Sole consciousness with incongruity:

Leyla Veronica lived with Vincent in a terraced apartment that hung, with thousands of others afforded shelter and shade, among sequoia- like arboriforms whose roots were twisted down and down into the soil since before the dawn of human flight. The towers and their hanging apartments had been magnificently commingled with the ancient trees with a minimum of environmental