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Rated: E · Fiction · Military · #1675727
Based in a future reality with a type of warfare based around chess... o.o Don't ask.
“Queen to c5.”
The voice was distinct and sure, as if stating absolute fact. The voice obviously belonged to a man that was very confident of what he did and how he went about it. There was a moment’s pause before he called out “check” as loud as he could. A smile slid across his thin lips, unusual on such a plump, rounded face as his. An announcement from one of the speakers dotted around the room rang out.

“Um...king to...” There was a pause. “f7”
This voice was very quiet and unsure of its decision. Obviously this person was under extreme pressure from Player One. On the other side of the speakers was a thin, relatively short, man who continuously dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. He was glancing over several screens. Each one held more information than the last. On the centre screen, the one that occupied most of this man’s attention was a chessboard with everything laid out. War was a hard thing but even harder when you were forced to think.

Moving back to player one, his lips still curved up in a smile. He was going to speed it up a bit. Force him to make a big mistake. “I see squads 15 through 20 are having a bit of trouble out on the field. You really should have waited and kept General Johnson’s squads for when they were truly needed.” That confident voice boomed out over the speakers of Player Two’s room.

“King castle, new position g1. C’mon Peters, if you want to win you have to speed up. It also makes it more interesting.”
Player Two, Peters, wiped away a new wave of sweat and shouted out with the utmost of force. “Pawn d6”
“Queen d6.”
“Pawn to g5.”
“Queen to e7.”
“King to g8”

Player One tutted, chiding Peters. “Terrible move.” His eyes glanced over another screen. “Rook to e1”
“Shut up!” Emperor Peters shouted, frustrated with his opponent. “Bishop to b7”

“Rook to e6.”
“King to h8”
“Rook to f6.”
“King to g8.”

Peters’ eyes grew wide. This man was good, it was only a matter of time before he was stuck in a checkmate and all his pieces would be picked off one by one after he was gone. These were real men in his hands. Why hadn’t he spent more time on this game in the past? And so much rode on this one game. The whole battlefield around his headquarters had been set into chequered squares and, what remained of his army was given explicit instructions. It was over. He could sense it.

“It’s over Peters, we have won.” A cold, dry laugh echoed in Peters ears. “Rook to f8.” There was a faint sound of gunfire. It was quite distinct amongst the sounds of the computers. “Checkmate Emperor Emanuel Peters. You have been annihilated.”

Twenty minutes later Emperor Emanuel was found dead, killed by a single shot to the head.

The man known as Player One moved on from Kasenhan, having conquered it completely. Next was Jahrenhan. The next major country on the continent. At this rate he would have the world under his thumb by the end of the month.
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