The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower [PA Multicross SI]

[TCGM]

The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 19
Protracted Ruling​

I ascend into the sky over Bethesda's various buildings with a genuine smile on my face.

I did good, a lot of it. Thousands of people now have no need to worry about money, probably for the rest of their lives, and can work on their passion without much oversight. Plus they've only got very rough guidelines on what I even want them to do.

I basically just turned Bethesda and all its geeks, nerds, and designers into a Skunkworks. A gaming one, sure, but I have no illusions that they won't be incredibly useful down the line in other ways. I've just laid the foundation of the research group I sort of barely thought of in the heat of the moment who'll take all the cool tech I get and make it useful.

You know, once they get the most ambitious game in the history of the planet up and running.

And I cannot wait to tell Kayaba. His face? I'm going to put that on all my social medias, and I will title it something appropriately hilarious!

Huh, someone is calling me. Oh, Elsa is calling me.

Guess she's done with her spy report? A quick check shows that yes, the jet is back on course. It's even flying in a path that would make sense if it had been forced to land at Phoenix for repairs.

Or whatever asinine excuse she'll make up.

She probably won't even be lying, from a certain point of view.

"Hello, this is your best alien overlord speaking, I can't come to the phone right now but know that I'm putting your call in a very important queue. Please enjoy this music while you wait."

She's not going to buy this. I know she isn't. But that doesn't make this any less necessary.

"Planetcaller, I know you're there, your phone is just a program you run inside yourself-" my bodyguard and/or personal assistant begins, but she gets cut off as I quickly pull up and start streaming what has to be Humanity's crowning achievement across the entire omniverse.

DUH DUH DUH, D-D-D-D-DUH

Elsa is entirely silent as the first drum hits of one of the most recognizable, simultaneously loved and hated, and indicative things we've ever made blast out of her cell phone.

The violin joins in. My grin grows. Elsa, meanwhile, is not happy.

"No."

"YES!" I say over the music.

"You didn't."

"I totally did."

"We're no strangers to love… you know the rules, and so do I!"

"I hate you." The vehemence in her voice is possibly the most delicious thing I've eaten since becoming a death robot.

"No you don't!"

...Upon momentary reflection, what I've eaten so far consists of hot chocolate, a bullet, and my assistant's misery filled tears.

Not even the Holy Nectar of the Gods is enough to keep my taste buds satisfied. Or, well, whatever passes for them in this nanite form. I honestly designed them, saved the things, applied them to my new body and promptly ceased giving a shit.

I need to go get a pizza.

"You're rickrolling me OVER A PHONE CALL!" Elsa shouts back, shattering my dreams of noms.

"And myself!" I add on, entirely pleased with myself.

Yeah, that's right, Writer Me. Suffer.

All you reading this, suffer too.

"A full commitment's what I'm thinking of. You wouldn't get this from any other guy!"

"Turn that off or I swear I will find a way to freeze you."

I shrug to myself and cut the music. She can try. It won't work, but no need to antagonize her even further.

Yet.

"Thank you," Elsa seethes.

"So, what's up?" I ask. A ping to the GPS system places me over the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and I've got a lot of flight left to get to where Elsa's jet currently is.

...Is it my jet? I'm pretty sure it's my jet, actually.

Whoever's jet the sleek craft is, I am on the other side of the country from it at the moment. Thus the flying at several machs.

"What's up is you have an entire brand new country that you lead and you need to, you know, lead it!" she declares.

"Do I, though?" I ask, musing on the topic.

"...What? Of course you do!"

"Really?" I'm actually skeptical now. "What exactly needs my leadership? I mean aren't states pretty autonomous anywa-"

"I see what you're doing and no, just because our states are very self run, that doesn't mean you aren't important," Elsa interjects, shutting me down. "Yes, the governors can run their states. Yes, they probably prefer that. But for the large scale stuff? The things which the entire country has to come together on? No. We were US states literally a week ago, even if at some point in the future you get a more automatic system going we aren't there now so you are important, Mister President."

My eyebrows rise to the top of my face and I can't help it, I'm impressed. "Wow."

"Wow what."

I realize how bad that sounded and wince. "No, I mean it. Wow. That was… can you write my speeches in the future?"

Elsa cautiously, warily humors me. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I don't like writing them and you're damn good at it?" I fire back rhetorically. Honestly I'm a bit offended that she might think I'm shitting on her ability to write speeches of all things.

"...Oh," Elsa's voice comes out small and a little embarrassed. "Well, thank you."

Silence reigns for a few moments.

"I'm not writing your speeches for you," her decision arrives, reluctance clear in her voice.

I sigh. Oh well, I'll just have to get some other sucker to do it. "Worth a shot," I easily

"Hmm." Elsa's tone is back to one of amusement and I let out a breath of relief. "So, as I seem to have fallen into the role of your Chief of Staff, I've been taking the liberty of gathering up what we need to go over while you've been off… taking over game companies?" She sounds confused and surprised at that, then I can practically feel her disapproval. "Planetcaller."

"Hey, they love me now," I defend myself.

Elsa sighs, a long, suffering infused expulsion of air. "Right. We don't exactly have an Oval Office and both of us are currently flying- you are flying, right?"

I look down at the clouds racing by under my feet and grin. "I am among the sky fluff, yes."

Elsa's eyes roll. I know that by instinct and verify it with a check of the jet's sensors. "Well, there's not much more secure a location than a place nobody can get to you or overhear you, and I know this line is secure from my end. I doubt anything on the planet can compromise your end's security even if it's because you're alien tech. And we're both tentatively not busy for the time being, so we can handle some of this now. Unless you have somewhere else to be?"

"Not right now. I'm actually on an intercept course for you," I inform her.

"Okay good. I don't think we've got enough time to go over it all if that's the case, but if we don't make a dent soon you'll be able to build another Beacon out of paper."

I groan out loud. "Fine, but I am going to stop for pizza on the way," I warn her.

"...You don't even need to eat."

"Pizza is tasty. Call it a mental health supplement."

"Vegetable, mental health aid, what's next, a drink?" Elsa mumbles to herself. I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear that, but I can't let this opportunity go to waste.

"Don't tempt me."

Elsa says nothing. Instead, I hear a thump and the rustle of a stack of paper being thumbed through.

The sound which is somehow loud enough to be picked up by her microphone.

...That sound which is still going.

"Elsa?"

It hasn't stopped.

She's not saying anything.

"...Elsa, how much paperwork do you have?"

Still no response.

"Elsa?" I nearly squeak.

"Settle in. This is going to be a long flight," she finally declares.

My little wail of misery doesn't stop her from making another thump, this time of a thick stack of paper on another thick stack of paper, nor does it keep her from starting to read.

"To the Office of the President of Name Pending…"

The only solace I have in this new, fresh hell is that I've already decided that as punishment for spying on me, Elsa will be doing my paperwork for me.

Because as much as she has on hand right now? What she'll have to process after I make my decisions here is a magnitude more.

Enjoy this victory while it lasts, my dear bodyguard. But I shall have the last laugh.

 

[edboy49]

Good chapter.
Nice to see this is back.

 

[theonebutcher]

"My dear staff... To the fun things first: The Budget."

Groans around the table.

"No. This is important and needs to come first: State Taxes: Remain as is. The States need to adjust to the new situation and they can do it better with a full treasury. They can do it better when they aren't trying to reform their Tax code, they can do it better when they aren't balancing their entire budgets anew in the middle of the year. Put out a suggestion, not a law, not an order, not a regulation, that they try to make the transition smoothly.

"Now federal Taxes. They are on the way out. Why? The defense budget: Gone. We will make treaties with NATO, trading fuel for a defense pact in case my own Armies, privately owned and mechanical, should ever fail or be unavailable, but I can project Force from a galactic scale down to the scale of superheavy tanks. Think Landbound heavy cruisers. Anything smaller scale runs into problems with diminishing returns. Its more expensive for me to field, say, ten Abrams Tanks than four superheavies. Not that expensive, mind, but a good Army is as efficient as possible, no matter the amount of overwhelming force you can bring to bear.

"Schools? Free energy, peerless internet connectivity, I have the patent for the Nerve Gear, they can apply for new construction done by my drones free of charge. Student loans? Good grades can pay them back partially.

"Pensions? As rent and utilities drop they don't need to be raised for a while.

"Now, the Federation will produce energy, hydrogen, oxygen and carbon filtered from the atmosphere. The energy will be available more cheaply for industries that settle within our borders. The public Transportation system will have two branches, a technical and a personell branch. The technical branch will be government owned, vehicles provided and maintained by the federation. They will also take over most, but not all road maintenance. There need to remain humans trained in the maintenance of infrastructure, otherwise I would be a single point of failure. The personell branch will be a private service provider. Drivers, conductors, caterers, cleaners. All privately owned and regulated.

"At nine cents per Kilowatt hour the US Federal revenue equals it's energy budget. And that is before lower prices increase demand. I trust you can make this work."

 

[SystemSearcher]

Student loans? Good grades can pay them back partially.

Click to shrink...

This specific point was the point where I realized that you're severely underestimating just how far Planetcaller is willing to yeet the Status Quo.

 

[TCGM]

Good chapter.
Nice to see this is back.

Click to shrink...

hugs

--snip--

Click to shrink...

Good enough for an omake so in it goes! Thanks for writing it, even if it's probably not going to go down this way.

This specific point was the point where I realized that you're severely underestimating just how far Planetcaller is willing to yeet the Status Quo.

Click to shrink...

...Loans?



Where we're going we don't need... loans.

 

[theonebutcher]

Oh boy, if you're going to yeet too much and scrap a system like that... You'll have to do a LOT of paperwork.

 

[TCGM]

Oh boy, if you're going to yeet too much and scrap a system like that... You'll have to do a LOT of paperwork.

Click to shrink...

*Elsa will have to do a lot of paperwork

 

[theonebutcher]

You do know that Elsa can... you know... quit? And then you have Croneyism. There's a reason Dictators tend to suck.

 

[TCGM]

You do know that Elsa can... you know... quit? And then you have Croneyism. There's a reason Dictators tend to suck.

Click to shrink...

You're right, she could quit being the right hand woman of the most powerful person on the planet, the guy who gives her cool superpowers, and who is changing the entire planet for the better.

She'd need a new IQ assessment, but it is indeed possible.

And the reason most Dictators suck is because they want power.

Planetcaller doesn't.

 

[theonebutcher]

Uh, not just because of that. There's been a lot of Kings who didn't want power and who sucked. Bureaucracy is often evil.

 

[sinepost]

Uh, not just because of that. There's been a lot of Kings who didn't want power and who sucked. Bureaucracy is often evil.

Click to shrink...

I have to say that his flailing about with his efforts to secure Bethesda IP didn't exactly fill me with confidence in his capability either. People can most definitely be incompetent at stuff without being evil or stupid.

 

[adaw]

Enjoy this victory while it lasts, my dear bodyguard. But I shall have the last laugh.

Click to shrink...

I have a strong feeling that you'll end up handing those states back over in return for more fun companies.

Where we're going we don't need... loans.

Click to shrink...

The Robber Barons insatiable appetite for material wealth hasn't just been met, it's been exceeded. He can only nap away with an overstuffed tummy, too prosperous to even think of gouging those with less power than him - this is an ideal of the post-scarcity economy.

 

[TCGM]

The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 20
Work All Day Makes Crack A Dull Toy ​

"...The Japanese Embassy wants to know if it will be allowed to continue existing within Name Pending." Paper shuffles, a lot of it, and then Elsa sighs. "And so do all the other embassies within California. There's even some countries without embassies asking if they can convert a few of their dedicated cultural sites into new ones."

"Of course-" I say in between bites, "-they can-", yet another munch goes out across the phone call, "they just need-", gulp, "-to pay-", yet another munch, "-whoever owns them right now."

Elsa sighs again. "Would it kill you to not intentionally broadcast the absolutely most fake eating sound effects I've ever heard in the middle of a very important conversation just to annoy me?"

I'm silent for several long seconds, astounded that she realized what I was just doing. Those were some good sound effects! I even paid for them!

"Planetcaller."

I shove the last piece of deliciousness down my thankfully unending maw while sending her a reply. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I innocently declare.

"Sure. The Embassies?"

I shrug automatically before I remember that she can't actually see me. "Again, sure, I don't care. As long as they follow the laws we set when they're not on their little islands of sovereignty."

Elsa's quirked lips are somehow audible. "That's usually how Embassies and their staff work, yes. Speaking of, do you have some… I don't know, enlightened set of alien laws you want to pass by me for a look before you blunder your way into announcing them into actual law on live TV?"

I pointedly ignore her snark, as is my right as Best Supreme Ruler, and honestly think about her question. Do I have some prepared? Not really. I didn't exactly enter this reality planning on doing anything important, much less creating law.

Then again… Maybe I already have what I need, from when I was Writer Me.

I direct the nanites in the jet flying just a few kilometers in front of me to print a stack of papers with a decent amount of text on them above Elsa's head and drop it on her desk.

Her shriek is hilarious.

"... I…! I am so going to get you back for that," she seethes into the phone. "Just as soon as you get here. In the meantime I'm going to review these 'Terran Morlawls' to see how badly I'm going to need to bullshit to get people to accept them."

"Thanks buddy! You're the best!" I fire back at her.

"Also, I don't care how long you pout at me, we're not calling them that," she adds on.

I pointedly do not pout, and claims to the contrary are total BS. "But it'll annoy so many other heads of state!"

She just grumbles at me and hangs up.

...I don't think she'll actually have any issues with what's in the Morlawls, just with the name. I'm not even attached to the name that much, really, I just wanted to see how she'd respond. I spent quite a long time tweaking the actual laws in the list as my original self. Most of the potential issues with what they propose and mandate come from implementation and overcoming opposition to them, their actual systems and checks are mostly self balancing once running.

And hey, that's what a benevolent dictator is for, right? I even have the tech and power to just sidestep anyone who tries to stop their fellow human from having a good life, ignoring them entirely instead of rolling over them.

But if they piss me off enough… well as I told Kate, that would be devastating for them, and annoying for me.

I'm not really interested in thinking about that right now though, so let's see how I can freak out Elsa's pilots.

… OOH, I know!

I accelerate well past her jet and line myself up, T-posing on the clouds to assert dominance.

Gotta tell you, Commander who can swim in volcanoes or not, there's still something terrifying about an aircraft fifty times your size flying straight towards you.

Even though I know for a fact this isn't going to hurt, I instinctively close my eyes and brace for impact.

---

"Copy that Reagan, we'll see you in an hour," Pilot Guy continues his conversation with the airport ATC team who likely doesn't want to hear from me again.

"So James, what do you think of our new alien overlord?" Copilot Girl asks, amusement clear on her face and her grin knowing.

James sighs and pinches his nose. "Look, Kim, you're the third person to tease me about this. I know I regularly praise fictional new overlords online but I never thought it would actually happ-"

THOOM

The entire hull of the jet rocks with an impact, a deep, resounding boom not unlike a gong being struck by a tank shell nearly blowing out the mics of the two pilots. Elsa, James, and Kim nearly jump out of their seats.

But nothing else, because I didn't really hit the plane that hard. I both chickened out at the last second and realized it would likely be pretty bad for a jet not made out of me to hit me at the speed it was approaching me.

So I just shook the plane a little and rang the hull with copious use of nanotech bullshit.

Elsa scrambles to get up as the two pilots nearly panic. They quickly glance over their instrument panels trying to find the fault.

"Everything's…. okay?" James almost asks. "Confirm, copilot?"

"I confirm. Instruments are all… clear," Kim affirms with a tone no less confused than his, though clearly her heart is still settling down. "Huh."

There isn't any fault, of course. The jet is fine, and still on course.

"What the hell did we hit?" James asks, still scanning the panels for anything at all.

Kim looks up to reply to him and happens to glance out the cockpit windows. Her mouth drops open. Then she starts to get angry.

Uh oh.

Before she can no doubt start chewing me out, Elsa comes barreling into the cockpit. "What happened? Is everything okay?" she asks rapidly. "Can I help?"

James turns back her way and blinks. He shakes himself out of his monetary surprise at seeing her in their cockpit. "I'm not sure, Ma'am. We're pretty sure we hit something but-"

Finally, Kim manages to come back to herself and closes her mouth. She crosses her arms, then glares forward with all the daggers she can provide. "Actually I'm pretty sure something hit us," she deadpans.

Elsa and James look at her, then follow her glare out the right front cockpit window.

Where I'm pressed up against the glass, waving like an idiot, with the biggest grin I've ever worn on my very, very smug face.

It takes them approximately three seconds to process that yes, I am outside the jet, and yes, I'm hanging onto the nose with no regard for physics or the high speed wind caused by the jet's flight speed.

"Hey guys," I remotely say inside the cabin, timing my mouth movements to match my voice, "fancy running into you up here. How're the kids? Weather all fine? I kinda hit a nasty pocket of lightning coming out of DC, could you give me some directi-"

And that is as far as I get, because Elsa manages to figure out relative scope matter formation just to yeet me off the jet with giant shards of ice.

I'm so proud of her.

 

[Kaseywolf]

Hey. Yeah you author guy. Post more feed my gluttony.

Good luck writing!

 

[Mastersgt]

Man. I like PA-Commander multi-cross stories. I kinda wish someone would do an Inspired Inventor multi-cross in the same vein. Like Hiver, Drich, Fusou, Faith, etc... But with Inspired Inventor instead of as a PA-Commander. Heck, they could MAKE themselves a PA-Commander.

 

[Zeushobbit]

And that is as far as I get, because Elsa manages to figure out relative scope matter formation just to yeet me off the jet with giant shards of ice.

I'm so proud of her.

Click to shrink...

They grow up so fast.

 

[ShadowFireZelda]

The entire economy and culture of humanity is going to revolve around that MMO.

Click to shrink...

Actually the premise of a lot of LitRPG novels. They need to solve the issue that the actual SAO had from the very minute they escaped Aincrad. Why the fuck do I care if the main character wins this video game? There need to be stakes, so having real money tied up in the game is a common trope.

 

[TCGM]

The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 21
The Beginning of Something​

There's one in every city. Every town. Anywhere humanity congregates… an area of destitution and undesirables manifests.

Maybe it's just full of people down on their luck. Perhaps a branch of organized crime has claimed dominion over the area. Sometimes, the society, economy, or other factors of the country or polity such an area finds itself in necessitates its existence.

No matter what horrible reason there is for such a place to exist, there is always one. In larger locations, there are a lot more than one.

And some futuristic civilizations have entire areas or layers of a planet in question left away from the good ones, where those in power shove all those who they do not wish to see.

Warhammer, Star Wars? I'm looking at both of you.

I may not be on those particular worlds, yet the cries of inequality and destitution still ring true here. This Earth, just like mine, has such areas.

And I may act… no, scratch that, I definitely act aloof and like I don't care very much. But I do.

I remember my own time amongst such areas. I remember how damn hard it was to exist, to live, to survive. And I refuse to allow any such areas within my new country.

This is what you get, Elsa. This is the result of you giving me a lecture on responsibility.

You want me to be responsible? So be it. You might not be so glad that you did.

Yeah, that's right Nikki, I'm stealing your damn line. Bite me.

So what if I'm slightly annoyed at Elsa. I'm doing something good and right. If one of the reasons I want to do it is because I'm annoyed at my assistant, that's totally fine.

I can hear you snickering, Writer Me!

And so it is that I begin my first true project within this universe. I'm going to start in California, then expand across my domain. The waves this will cause are immense, many, and deep, but I'm past the point of caring at the moment. Maybe I will later.

…Probably won't.

The quantum communication channel to my tower, my Beacon, sits alive and well in the back of my mind. I can access it as easy as any other unit of mine. It's been some time since I acted like a Commander. Time to put the mantle back on, just for a little while, and save a whole lot of lives. Then I'll go back to trolling people.

As if this itself is not going to troll everybody on the planet, lol.

My Beacon looks like a single structure, but it actually isn't. Everyone saw it rise out of that pool of nanites and believed that construction was occurring. They're not wrong, but also no.

My Beacon is a prototype, the first building I've actually designed. It isn't strictly a single piece. The walls, the floors, pretty much everything about it is actually just nanites. Nanites formed and locked into various shapes, with material properties that mimic what they look like, but nanites nonetheless. At any one moment, the building can sprout legs and start walking, or grow arms and smack something out of the air, or make Macross missile spam look like a mortar line from World War I.

Because it's just a giant, building shaped pool of nanites.

That's how I got around the square cube law and was able to make it so tall and wide; it isn't actually one piece. The volume and weight remains consistent across every single surface. It's basically a cloud of nanites faking a solid architectural construct.

The technique works so well, I'm planning on using it to make every single thing I build in the future. And it'll be good shock value; who would expect a Dox to sprout tentacles?

Eldritch knock off nanotech Gray Goo go!

Anyways, all this is important because I will no longer need dedicated structures to build units. Everything I make is a constructor. Everything I make is a weapons platform. Everything I make is a threat.

And I'm going to use the threat sitting mostly innocently in the middle of Sacramento on top of what was previously a barren field to create and launch nearly five hundred seed pools into the upper atmosphere.

Eighteen of these will be exiting the atmosphere and entering high orbit. It's time for me to start my space infrastructure. Nobody can complain about me building things in space, because nobody owns it.

The other four hundred and eighty two are slated to land in a barren, or abandoned, space roughly the size of four blocks inside every single city and every single town in California. Smack in the middle of the most destitute and undesirable areas. The places I mentioned before.

They will immediately check their surroundings, verify the landing zone, move any obstruction or things worth preserving out of the way, and then start replicating and forming into more Beacons. Those will, in turn, spin up a quad set of fusion reactors, spread nanites into the utility systems of the target city or town, and hard override them to be slaved to the local Beacon. Free power, free water, free Internet and Degenerate Network access, all permanent and clean.

I expect some utility owners to complain about this.

Those will be absolutely entertaining conversations!

After the takeover each Beacon will create thousands of apartments and housing units equivalent to the extremely cushy rooms I designed for the Cimarron inside themselves, mostly in the middle levels. These rooms will be connectable to work with families. Each Beacon should be able to create enough to house the entire local homeless or displaced population a few times over. If they can't, like in LA, Sacramento, or San Francisco, a nearby Beacon will be capable of taking the overflow.

And then they'll inform everyone nearby that those are open to the public and free. Completely free. All you have to do is walk in and claim one. One per person at that, with families encouraged to pick nearby sets so that they can be connected into bigger units.

I don't expect most of the discarded population to accept this offer immediately. Not after they've been burned so many times. But the offer of free housing, completely handled utilities, high speed internet access most of the world could only dream of (not that everyone else in the area won't also receive the latter two), and amenities to outclass the fanciest hotels in the world while still maintaining a homey, wholesome feeling… that will draw in a lot more as people find out.

I take a moment and let one of the inspirations of my life, the Federation of Star Trek, influence me again.

What is a futuristic Utopian apartment without a Replicator?

Now obviously I don't have replication technology, but I have something that might even be better. The molecular printing I use to construct things is more than capable of creating food. It's kind of overkill.

The problem is, I can't exactly make it up. This is perfect technology, it literally produces exactly what it's told to. And I can't design food. That's a quick way to at the very least an allergic reaction, to say nothing of possible food poisoning.

The solution presents itself almost by accident. Elsa's still talking to me, of course, and I'm definitely listening, which is why I materialize a slice of pizza just to eat it again while I totally pay close attention to my adhoc Chief of Staff.

How did I make the pizza? Easy. I scanned the ones I'd bought earlier.

And because I'm printing with molecules, it recreated it perfectly. Just as fresh as it was when I bought it.

One moment later I've added scanning capability to the replicators. Because they're all networked, they share the same database. It takes me a moment to ensure that's a separate database from my own, no fucking way do I want anyone to have access to Precursor technology, then hook the replicator and database access up to be included in the prefab room design.

A quick tutorial almost writes itself under my guidance, and is shoved into an open source new user experience template I nab off the Internet.

Logo and name change to Degeneracy Replicating, set the software to be installed on room fab, and done! Anyone will be able to scan any food they want into the system, and it'll be available for everyone else afterwards!

I add a quick check to stop anything spoiled from being accepted by setting up a cross reference with the entire collective medical knowledge of this humanity, and hey while I'm at it might as well make that available on the Degenerate Network too, then ensure it fails silently so that nobody trying to sabotage the system knows if it worked or not, and then an alert for me in case the limited intelligence in the whole giant processing cluster this has turned into doesn't understand what it's seeing so I can handle the error myself.

Nobody will eat the food initially as long as it's free, due to the free sandwich phenomenon, so I'll make it cost a little bit of the credit system of my new country to buy. A credit system helpfully able to accept any currency in the world at a 1 to 1 ratio regardless of exchange value or what economists think it's worth, of course, and available at any Degeneracy facility!

If, for some reason, the person doesn't have any currency, for some reason the Replicators will coincidentally error out and "fail", providing the food anyways, with an entirely fake notice to please inform the administrator about the error and enjoy the food on us.

See, I can speak corporate.

After some people move in, my diabolical plan can continue.

I'm going to give them all the devices, for free. I'm going to offer them jobs too. They can take them, or leave them, it doesn't matter to me.

But it will get them off the street. It will let them live again.

Plus, I'm going to provide them with an equivalent of Universal Basic Income that makes the cost of living in this absurdly overpriced state look like a pauper's income. Unfortunately it'll only be able to be spent in my system, because it's in Degeneracy Credits (Elsa and the pilots ganged up on me until I gave up D's Knuts), but I have plans for that too.

Who cares where the products come from, after all, as long as they're cheap and high quality?

And maybe, just maybe… maybe the idea of Turbo Utopia powered by alien bullshit will start to look a lot more appealing to everyone else.

That's my master plan. To drag this world kicking and screaming if necessary into the future. Into post scarcity. Into a time where no one even knows the word poor. And do it all while the powers that be are looking at me personally showing off, worrying about what I'm doing to their precious status quo, all the while not realizing the rising wave of equality before it's far, far too late.

Because I've been there. And now that I have power? I can't look away. Not forever. I can't ignore Saint Ben.

With great power comes great responsibility.

Like I told The President and her cabinet members; It's annoying for me, but it'll be devastating for them.

And while this is less of a hostile takeover so much as the beginning of a complete and total changeover in paradigms causing classical systems to be rendered obsolete; it will be devastating for anyone who makes their living off other people's suffering.

But fuck those people, am I right?

Now I'm definitely done, finally. Totally of my own volition, and not because my assistant is pestering me.

"Planetcaller, are you listening?" Elsa asks me, with her eyebrows furrowed.

I play back the last minute or so just to make sure I know what the hell she was talking about while I definitely was listening, then respond. "Yes, you're worried about what the US Navy will do with now effectively being in a foreign country, and how much it'll cost to move them if they really want to leave, and what my plans are for a military of our own."

Elsa looks surprised. "Huh. You were listening."

I shrug and look at her innocently. "I do try." Completely noncommittal answer, I choose you!

She rolls her eyes. "So?"

"Hmm." I sit back and think about it for a few moments. "Well, I don't particularly care if the US military sticks around or not, so hell; lease the land they're on to them. That'll make them happy a little, I think. Offer my relocation services if they feel they need to leave. And as for a military…"

I look towards my first Beacon, visible out of the wide of the jet as we descend towards the local airport.

"How does a space navy sound to you?"

Elsa stares at me. "...What?"

It's that moment that the Beacon finishes construction of the seed pools and the tall effectors on top move to the side, forming into an electromagnetic launch gantry.

I smirk her way and point. "Space Navy!"

She has a moment to whip her head around to point out the window, and then a sonic boom buffets the jet as a gray blur gets yeeted high into the atmosphere.

"What the hell was tha-"

Another airframe rattling BOOM erupts over the city of Sacramento, California, and another gray blur rises into the sky nearly faster than the eye can see.

"Plan-"

BOOM

"What are th-"

BOOM

"You're doing this-"

BOOM

"Sorry what was that, Els-?"

BOOM

She settles in to glare at me, arms crossed across her chest, as we much more quickly head for the runway under the definitely not shaking hands of two no doubt incredibly nervous pilots.

That face says this conversation isn't over.

Even as more BOOMS rattle our jet less and less, I just smile serenely at her, like the innocent little BESRMoW I am.

 

[edboy49]

AT LONG LAST!!!

Our favorite BESRMoW, that likes to troll people, accidentally take over a country and his Frozen expy possible waifu (that needs a vacation) are back.

Awesome chapter.

 

[SystemSearcher]

I add a quick check to stop anything spoiled from being accepted by setting up a cross reference with the entire collective medical knowledge of this humanity, and hey while I'm at it might as well make that available on the Degenerate Network too, then ensure it fails silently so that nobody trying to sabotage the system knows if it worked or not, and then an alert for me in case the limited intelligence in the whole giant processing cluster this has turned into doesn't understand what it's seeing so I can handle the error myself.

Click to shrink...

Scandinavians and other very cold area are going to be really annoyed that they're not going to be able to get their Surstromming and other rotten shark-tier meals out of this.

 

[Amanofmanytentacles]

ACTUAL CENTURIES HAVE PASSED. It's nice to have you back

 

[Grimmouse197]

About two months short of being 2 years welcome back.

 

[sinepost]

IT RISES FROM THE DEEP!

 

[Kasikan]

Nobody will eat the food initially as long as it's free, due to the free sandwich phenomenon, so I'll make it cost a little bit of the credit system of my new country to buy. A credit system helpfully able to accept any currency in the world at a 1 to 1 ratio regardless of exchange value or what economists think it's worth, of course, and available at any Degeneracy facility!

Click to shrink...

That would destroy your own economy. Countries like Korea have 1300 won (Korean currency) equal to 100 cents or $1. If you go by that style, you'd have a ton of countries all buying the currency of those countries with much lower values to trade in. It'd cause so many problems it wouldn't be worth it.

 

[SystemSearcher]

That would destroy your own economy. Countries like Korea have 1300 won (Korean currency) equal to 100 cents or $1. If you go by that style, you'd have a ton of countries all buying the currency of those countries with much lower values to trade in. It'd cause so many problems it wouldn't be worth it.

Click to shrink...

That's the funny thing, the Degeneracy does not have an economy.

 

[Kasikan]

That's the funny thing, the Degeneracy does not have an economy.

Click to shrink...

Not yet, but at some point his people are going to need one. Without anything to gain and everything paid for, society would stagnate badly. Star Trek is one of the worst ideas of a society you could pick. Nothing to gain no matter how hard you work since everything is paid for. It'd cause stagnation as most people wouldn't even bother trying to make something of themselves when there is nothing to gain from it. Unless he plans to remain there forever slowly uplifting them over thousands of years, it'd just ruin the place.

 

[TCGM]

Not yet, but at some point his people are going to need one. Without anything to gain and everything paid for, society would stagnate badly. Star Trek is one of the worst ideas of a society you could pick. Nothing to gain no matter how hard you work since everything is paid for. It'd cause stagnation as most people wouldn't even bother trying to make something of themselves when there is nothing to gain from it. Unless he plans to remain there forever slowly uplifting them over thousands of years, it'd just ruin the place.

Click to shrink...

Hoo boy you are reading the wrong fic from the wrong author if you've got a worldview that warped

Also, as one of my friends phrased it so well; You are aware that the entirety of fanfiction exists because of people making something without being paid for it, right?