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Arexnos was exhausted. Cutting through
Marel's minions had cost him his front deflector generator, and one
of the bastards had disarmed him of his prized durasteel sword. The
damned miniature black hole nearby had sucked it right in, with what
Arexnos could only imagine would be a smug grin. If black holes could
grin. Or be smug. Luckily the last two minions had succumbed to his
power-glove wrath, but Arexnos knew that wouldn't do much against the
commander of the rebel forces.
The steel pillars just ahead flanked a
massive pair of faux-wood doors, illuminated by spotlights in the
floor. Marel was always one for drama, Arexnos remembered. Maybe
that's why he, once the vice-commander, left the Terran army to form
his own rebel faction... but now it was time for him to face justice.
The doors swung open silently as
Arexnos approached them. The spotlights swivelled inwards,
illuminating a gaudy golden throne, and an equally golden
power-armour-clad figure sitting on it. Only his face wasn't golden,
and the expression on it was one of calm superiority, the one an
owner might use to gaze upon a well-trained dog. That, and the shiny
black top-hat perched jauntily upon his cropped, blonde hair.
“Argh! Goddamnit, I really have to
stop my spotlights from shining in my face. Where did I put the
remote...” The man fiddled on a small remote until the spotlights
turned off. “Ahh, much better. Now where was I? Ah yes. My dear
Arexnos, how are you? You look tired, old chap. Have my goons really
caused you that much trouble?” said Marel, seemingly amused.
“Not as much trouble as I'm about to
give you, traitor!” replied Arexnos, angrily.
“Now now, my former superior. I did
warn you, when I became your second-in-command. I said, if we ever
run out of hot chocolate, I will have no choice but to commandeer a
force of loyal chocaholics and ensure such a tragic shortage never
happens again. You failed me. You failed... us. Rebellion was simply
the only way.”
“You maniac! You blew up the Alps!!”
“It was the only way to ensure the
Swiss would take us seriously, Arexnos! We had to control the Lindt
factories and ensure productivity would continue unabated! The rich
will simply have to find another mountain range to ski on.”
Marel took a mug from a recessed
cup-holder in his gilded throne, holding it up in the air as a small
drone whizzed over to fill it with a viscous, brown liquid.
“Ahh, a 3003 vintage, the chocolate
caramel with a hint of mint. You should really try some, Arexnos. You
would soon see what we fight so bravely and fiercely for.” said
Marel, taking a sip and leaving a brown moustache upon his visage.
“To hell with you! I wouldn't drink
that brown gunk if you paid me!”
Marel wiped his chocolate moustache away with a gold-gloved hand and stood slowly, holding out his mug for the attending drone to whisk away. “Sir.” he said, walking slowly down the dais upon which his throne was placed. “It is not gunk. It is the sublime liquid of life, the essence of joy. However, it is clear to me that your mind, and taste buds, shall remain sadly ignorant of this. A life deprived of joy is not one worth living, so I shall have to relieve you of it.”
Marel wiped his chocolate moustache away with a gold-gloved hand and stood slowly, holding out his mug for the attending drone to whisk away. “Sir.” he said, walking slowly down the dais upon which his throne was placed. “It is not gunk. It is the sublime liquid of life, the essence of joy. However, it is clear to me that your mind, and taste buds, shall remain sadly ignorant of this. A life deprived of joy is not one worth living, so I shall have to relieve you of it.”
Arexnos was ready;
his anger flooded his body with adrenaline and pushing any exhaustion
out of him. He had no sword, but he had his backup tool; a
random object generator, standard issue for Terran troops. It was a
one-time use only, but it was guaranteed to produce an object no
greater than one cubic metre in size. As he pressed the button.
Arexnos sincerely hoped it would be a nuke.
Something wet and
slimy appeared in the air in front of him, and landed with a loud
“splat” on the marble floor. Arexnos groaned. Of all the things
to materialize, it had to be a squid.
Marel laughed out
loud. “So, this is how the fate of the world shall be decided.
Servant! Fetch me my battle squid!” On cue, a slightly larger drone
flew through a side door, motors spinning furiously to hold the
weight of the steel-plate-armoured cephalopod in its claws.
“You just
happened to have one of those hanging around, did you?” asked
Arexnos, disbelievingly.
“It always pays
to consult a fortune teller before your enemy attacks, my former
commander. Turns out she was right after all!” laughed Marel.
Arexnos
gritted his teeth and grasped a squid tentacle, firmly enough that he
hoped it wouldn't simply slip out of his grasp. Marel did the same
with his armoured squid, which, Arexnos noticed, had spikes along
most of it. It seemed it
wasn't going to be a fair fight after all.
“You see, I have
the advantage already!” said Marel, smugly. “Give up and I won't
have to crush you with Sir Squiddington!”
Arexnos ignored the
taunt, instead whirling his improvised, slimy weapon around his head
before swinging it at his enemy's. “EAT SQUID!” he screamed.
Marel
ducked just in time to avoid a faceful of sea creature, but his top
hat was knocked off by a flailing tentacle. “It seems we need
more... atmosphere!”
Marel shouted. Hidden loudspeakers rose up from the floor, and “Ride
of the Valkyries” began blaring from them.
Distracted by this,
Arexnos nearly forgot to dodge Marel's battle-squid as it came
hurtling towards him. Side-stepping it, he countered with his own,
but Marel managed to bring an armoured appendage back in time to
block it. The spikes pierced the soft flesh of Arexnos' squid.
Marel crowed in
triumph. “Sir Squiddington will see your life ended, my
chocolate-hating foe!”
Arexnos
was starting to believe that. His squid, now full of inconvenient
holes, had lost most of its structural integrity, and Marel was
approaching with the air of a man about to kill another man through
patently absurd means. The force of one more swing would surely ruin
his 'weapon', so he'd have to make it count. Letting Marel approach
him, Arexnos cradled his squid, and hoped the biology lessons he'd
attended as a child would serve him well. Just as his foe was
preparing a lethal downswing,
he closed his eyes, squeezed his arms, and an explosion of liquid
erupted from his now-ragged squid.
Opening
his eyes, he saw Marel desperately trying to rub ink out of his own.
“You must be squidding me!”
he screamed. Arexnos ducked around Marel's wild flailing, and with
one mighty swing, smacked his faithful squid into the rebel
commander's gold armour. The cephalopod disintegrated, coating the
armour in ink and general squid-related fluids. The force of the
impact knocked Marel onto his now-lubricated back, whereupon he let
go of Sir Squiddington, who landed on Marel's face. The gold-plated rebel commander slid easily
across the marble floor and through his ostentatious wooden doors,
towards the forecourt where Arexnos had defeated his minions.
Sadly
for Marel, it was also where the black hole was happily devouring
several ornamental statues and a set of bonsai trees. It first sucked
the armoured squid off his face, giving him a brief moment to glance
upon his end. Within seconds, he too was dragged into the
singularity, which from his perspective would last a very long, painful, boring time.
Arexnos
let out a long sigh. His enemy was defeated, and he hadn't even
needed a sword to do it. He stomped over to the drone holding its
former master's ornate mug of hot chocolate, grabbed it from the
drone's protesting claws, and flung it in the general direction of
the black hole. The mug orbited the gravitational anomaly a few times
before getting absorbed, and Arexnos could have sworn the black hole
burped happily. He activated his emergency location broadcaster,
alerting his flagship. As the sleek shape of his carrier cast a
shadow over him, Arexnos gazed at his destroyed squid. Luckily,
he was in the mood for calamari tonight.
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