THE INVASION LANDS

He walked among the crowd. Conversations flowed around him, mostly about paperwork. No one asked how to fight. They asked how to file.

He looked up at his hovering transports, sleek and lethal. One of them blinked hazard lights. A parking enforcement drone floated by, scanned the transport, and printed a ticket that fluttered down. VIOLATION: DOUBLE-PARKED IN LOADING ZONE. FINE: $75. The drone affixed another to his armor. He tore them both in half. The drone photographed the act and filed a report.

THE CONFRONTATION

The door opened again, and High Commander Vex'thar entered. His armor was scuffed from the landing, a few dents from the chaotic touchdown.

"You are Mildred Higgins," he said. His voice carried the weight of command, translated through his implants into English with a slight metallic echo.

"Director Mildred Higgins," she corrected automatically. "Department of Consumer Experience Management. And you are?"

"Vex'thar. High Commander of the Mindrender Dominion."

She nodded, as if acknowledging a colleague at a interdepartmental meeting. "Pleased to meet you. Though I must note this detention lacks proper paperwork. No Form IC-1 filed, no witness signatures, no chain of custody documentation."

Vex'thar's tendrils flexed, a ripple of irritation passing through them. "We do not require your forms."

"Everyone requires forms," Higgins said calmly, her voice steady as she reached for an invisible stamp. "Even conquerors. It's how we maintain order. Without forms, there's only chaos.

THE REVOLUTION

Outside, a Dominion dropship roared overhead. Its hull bore neon spray paint: LOCAL 47. The stencil dripped. It glowed. Another ship hovered behind, still pristine, still loyal. The two ships circled each other like predators unsure if they were also packmates.

Kr'thax stepped to the window. The city below looked like a diagram scribbled by multiple hands. Other barricades forming. Other queue ropes. Other ships landing to set up tables. Chanting wove together: "WHAT DO WE WANT?" "CLARITY." "WHEN DO WE WANT IT?" "AFTER APPROVAL."