Joseph Hagen
SAINT LOUIS
Copyright © 2015 by Joseph Hagen.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or
in part in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced in any
form without written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,
events and incidents are either the products of the author’s
imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-939437-41-9
Cover Illustration by Patrick Dorsey
Copyright © 2015 by Legendary Planet, LLC
Book design by Finscéal Welt
Friendly Neighborhood Publishing is an imprint of
Legendary Planet, LLC
PO Box 440081
Saint Louis, Missouri 63144-0081
LegendaryPlanet.com
To my family who have encouraged and allowed
me the time to follow this new road.
Thank you Anne, Stephen and Maggie.
I love you all dearly.
In a dimension very close to our own exist worlds and beings
which, while totally foreign, to us, would also be oddly familiar.
The people, places, and objects that form and fill that dimension
have been changed from inanimate to animate. Changed from
our fiction to their reality.
Heroes and villains,
emperors and minions,
all are locked in fierce battles.
Beings throughout that universe
struggle for a great cause.
A cause for which both sides risk everything.
A cause which would be dear to us as well…
CHOCOLATE WARS
Episode I:
SWEET DESTINY
Champions of all oppressed by the powerful and evil Emperor
Sakarin and his dreadful Knights of the Empire, the Chedi Order
were the ultimate warriors of the Milky Way Galaxy. Their
prowess was achieved through intense training and consumption of
the powerful, sweet, chocolate-rich Fudge.
The Fudge was empowered by natural properties within the
chocolate—its primary ingredient—which strengthened and
heightened their varied abilities. Additional ingredients and
methods of preparation further enhanced the properties of the
Fudge and enabled the Chedi to perform both mentally and
physically at superhuman levels.
Led by the Emperor’s most powerful and evil knight, Diet
Vanillla, the Knights of the Empire, were strengthened by their
own powerful but bitter variety of the Fudge. For years, the two
sides had battled. The Chedi had enjoyed many victories, but the
Empire, despite those losses, continued to grow large and
powerful.
Led by M and M, the wise masters of the Chedi Order, the
valiant fighters of the planet Choctooine struck forth from the
Wonkka system alongside the fighters of the Wonkka Alliance, a
collection of worlds whose people were also sworn enemies of the
Empire.
Their mission: to win truth, justice, and chocolate for all…
***
It was a dark and dismal night on a near-dead world far, far
away.
A small but full moon shone dimly in a cloudless sky almost
void of stars. A frigid wind wailed across a flat and crumbling
landscape. Other than the skeletal remains of a few long-dead and
fossilized trees, the horizon was broken only by a single, jutting
structure. Immense and heavily fortified, the structure’s lower
levels were constructed of massive stones laid side by side and one
upon the other. Fifty meters high, the stone’s masonry pattern was
broken only at its upper levels by two large, seemingly
impenetrable metal doors that sealed access to the interior. The
exterior was windowless, except at its uppermost levels. With no
entrances at ground level, access to the interior was only available
from the air.
From opposite sides of the stone structure’s summit, two
twenty meter landing pads jutted outward. Both were unlit, and on
each sat a collection of space-able vessels. Several were small,
one- or two-man fighters. One was larger, heavily armored and
armed. All but the large ship appeared to be fully powered down
and unmanned.
A narrower portion of the fortress continued upward from that
point for several more levels. This section of the structure had a
flat, metallic surface that dully reflected the minuscule amount of
light the pale moon was providing. Its surface was studded with
numerous balconies, large barred windows, dozens of shield
projectors and blazer ports. Its top level was capped with an
angled, tiled, metal roof and dotted with large skylights. Interior
light shone upwards through several of them. At each of the roof’s
four corners stood tall stone and metal turrets. An external staircase
spiraled up each turret’s outer wall.
The fortress was the home and headquarters of Wardo the Nutt,
one of the Empire’s most powerful, wealthy, and vicious allies.
Once an opponent of the Empire, the Nutt now fought and pirated
for Emperor Sakarin. Allowed to retain much of his booty, Wardo
had improved his situation greatly since betraying the Emperor’s
opposition.
At the peak of one of the fortress’ turrets, a lone figure held a
heavy cloak tight against the frigid wind. Her face hidden by a
breath shield, she was looking into the near-empty heavens above.
Other than the flutter of her cloak in the powerful gusts, the figure
was still and, despite the cold, patient as she watched and waited.
Her back stiffened when a shooting star blazed in the almost
empty sky. The object flared brightly as it streaked through the
planet’s upper atmosphere. Remaining still, she watched its
progression for several seconds. Unconsciously, as her eyes tracked
the object, her hand shifted to the weapon on her hip.
As the flare of the object’s passage extinguished, the guard
turned. Ignoring the external stairway, she entered the turret
through a narrow slit of a portal. A metal door closed the opening
behind her as she walked sideways through an equally narrow
passage.
The corridor opened into a wider space, where she hurried past
control panels for an atomizer cannon and shielding equipment.
Their status screens read, Standing By. Stepping up to the primary
control station, she paused to study the lime-green text on that
status screen:
Security System Status
PASSWORD SECURED
Sensors
Aerial - Functioning normally
Surface -Functioning normally
Visual motion detectors
Aerial - Standing by
Surface - Functioning normally
After a quick nod, her eyes shifted to a screen at the next
station. It read:
Security System Status
All Systems - Functioning normally
With another nod she stepped away. Near the center of the
room’s floor was a metal disk about a meter and a half in diameter.
Stepping onto the disk, she depressed a button on her belt and
instantly dropped into the floor. A moment later another disk lifted
into place, recovering the hole.
***
Above and through the darkness, a small armored ship pulled
into level flight after having dropped into the planet’s upper
atmosphere. The faintest shimmer of gold, forming a bubble
around the ship, was the only hint of the masking equipment
preventing its detection by any scanning device. Visual observation
was the ship’s only weakness in avoiding notice. In the vastness of
space a ship was very small and could, without the benefit of
sensors, easily be missed. Within the comparatively small area
within a planet’s atmosphere however detection was far more
likely.
Duke, one of the ship’s two member crew, checked his control
panel for any sign that they’d been discovered. After several
moments, he was satisfied that they had not.
He signaled the pilot. “Wardo’s transport ship is manned, but
her engines are cool, and her weapon systems are down. All the
fighters are powered down and cold. All’s clear. Let’s go.” The
pilot, Hagjo, nodded and directed the ship into a steep descent.
The two were more than spacefarers. They were Chedi, on a
mission of galactic importance.
As their ship dropped toward the fortress, the two Chedi each
placed a piece of powerful Fudge into their mouths. Both sighed as
its strong, sweet flavor fully awakened their senses, tensing as its
empowering chocolate coursed into their systems. Their eyes
tightened with a rush of energy and clarity of thought.
Smiling, Hagjo engaged the ship’s antigravity field. Bands
along the ship’s lower hull flickered and then brightened to a dim
shade of blue as he shut down the ship’s engines.
Ignoring the fortress’s landing pads, he slowed the ship and set
her down gently on the dark tiled roof. Duke and Hagjo swiftly
exited the ship. The frigid wind whipped their clothing as the
Fudge-infused duo hurried across the angled roofline. Avoiding the
skylights, the pair moved with assurance that their mission was
well planned. Leaping from the roof’s edge onto a large balcony,
they approached a secured door. In seconds, the lock was disabled
and they entered a brightly lit, overly warm atrium.
Looking beyond the bordering foliage they saw that the room
was peopled by a dozen females of as many different races. Among
them was a characteristically tall and thin Licoricean. Her black,
sinewy form was coiled into a tight mound on a large cushion. A
Skittle lay listlessly on a short couch. Both her multi colored scales
and her spirit had been dulled by her captivity. On a wide
overstuffed chair was a Chicklet. Her eyes were closed and her
breath, which whistled as she exhaled, was slow and steady. The
armored female had a bright blue shell that covered her chest and
back. The shell caught the light, and the Chedis’ eyes as they
scanned the group.
Beside the dozing Chicklet was a Hersheyan. Seeing this
female, Duke gasped. Her creamy brown beauty was breathtaking
and unaffected by her somber expression. Despite any fear she may
have felt, she held her head up and didn’t avert her eyes as the
Chedi stepped through the foliage. Her eyes widened when they
found Duke’s face. As he and Hagjo cleared the foliage and
stepped fully into view, the others saw them as well.
Immediately the females began screaming and running toward
the duo. Duke, also a Hersheyan, left Hagjo to calm the other
women as he stepped toward the Hersheyan female, who had not
moved other than to keep her eyes on him. Drawing near, he could
see that she had already recognized him. The relief in her eyes was
plain. But for reasons Duke was unable to determine, she didn’t
speak.
None of the females pleading with Hagjo spoke in common
Galactic, each pleading to him in her home tongue. Unfamiliar
with any of their languages, Hagjo struggled to make himself
understood, uncertain of exactly what was being said to him. It was
clear however that all of the women were distraught.
“Please be quiet,” he whispered as he held a finger across his
lips.
“Gorde calup en lave!” begged a muscular woman with orange
skin and an elephant-like nose. She held Hagjo by his arm. Her
fingers like a vise, her grip was almost painful. But her eyes shone
only with fear. The same fear that lit the eyes of the other women.
The Chedi glanced at each other. Duke grimaced and shrugged.
Hagjo shrugged in return, then turned back at the women. “Nerdz!”
he mumbled before the mass of frightened expressions.
***
The word ”Nerdz” was slang used within the Wonkka system
and beyond. Its use expressed exasperation toward a problem or
event that had gone wrong. Most often, something that had
foolishly gone very wrong.
The Nerdz were once an incredibly intelligent and sensitive
race of beings. On their small world, at the far side of the Wonkka
system, they evolved quickly through their primitive beginnings
into a race capable of great thought, beautiful art, brilliant
science, and deep emotion. The artifacts of their race indicated
that with their technology, single-minded focus, and even-handed
judgment, they could have peacefully and fairly mastered the
universe. Their reign would have been free of strife, and their
guidance surely would have prevented the Empire’s rise to power.
Unfortunately, as the Nerdz advanced technologically, they
invented the computer, and ran afoul of their single-mindedness.
As their computer technology improved, the Nerdz’ entire focus
became centered on the machine. They improved it, expanded its
uses, created data bases, e-mail, chat rooms, programs to allow
the creation and viewing of books and movies, the playing of
games, and numerous other forms of digital entertainment. The
computers improved to be the detriment of all other aspects of the
Nerdz’ way of life, and eventually, their own existence.
In just a few years their civilization began to crumble as the
Nerdz became more and more focused on their computer screens.
Breast pockets suited with pocket protectors were filled with
computer compatible pencils, protractors, and snacks of little or
no nutritional value. The Nerdz only allowed themselves to be
distracted from their small screens to create and assemble solar
panels and wind generators to ensure power for their obsession.
They disregarded their children and families, their jobs,
homes, and cities, and finally even themselves. Eventually there
was no drinking water, no food. Once the slide toward their end
truly began, it took only a few more months for their entire
civilization to expire.
Decades later, Choctooine explorers came to the Nerdz world.
Landing their scout ships, the Choctooinians found crumbling
cities, and the remains of the planet’s inhabitants. Propped before
their burned-out or powerless computers, Nerdz after Nerdz had
let themselves wither and die, rather than move away from their
glowing screens. The entire Nerdz population had become extinct.
Much of their knowledge, art and digital games had survived on
the millions of hard drives which were still intact. The possible
saviors of all the species in the universe had lost their focus on life
and ceased to exist.
***
“Nerdz!” Hagjo repeated as the women’s panic grew. “I’m
sorry,” he tried again to explain. “We thought we would be able to
communicate with someone in your group.” The women paused,
struggling to understand. But in seconds they were panicked again.
Hagjo sighed deeply before holding up his hands and attempting
again to explain that he and Duke were there to help them. With
their eyes wide and breaths rapid, the females formed a tight circle
around him and frowned fearful expressions of confusion.
Watching his fellow Chedi’s struggle, Duke turned back to the
female Hersheyan, certain he could communicate with her.
“You know who I am?” he asked her anxiously.
She nodded immediately and took his hand.
Duke smiled and asked, “Can you explain to them…” he
gestured with his head toward the anxious women, “…that we’ve
come to rescue you?”
The Hersheyan woman embraced Duke suddenly, then just as
suddenly drew back and shook her head. Before the Chedi could
ask why, her lips parted, and a light hissing noise sounded as she
silently mouthed speech.
Duke frowned, recognizing her inability to speak. He grew
angry, assuming that the Nutt was responsible for her disability.
“We will get you away from here,” he assured her.
The woman smiled and tightened her hold on his hand.
“Where’s Wardo?” he then asked.
She turned and pointed toward one of several doors along the
room’s interior wall.
Duke squinted at it. “We must take care of him first…”
Immediately fear bloomed on the woman’s face, and Duke
again was angered at the certainty of her punishments under the
Nutt. Before he could voice an accusation, he heard joyful moans,
and voices full of relief behind him. He turned to see Hagjo
smiling and almost lost in a huddle of hugs from the females—the
large, orange woman actually lifted him into the air. She sat him
down and Hagjo quickly moved away and toward Duke.
“How did you manage that?” Duke asked.
Hagjo indicated the buckle on his belt. “Once they realized we
were Chedi they understood we were here to help.” He smiled and
reholstered his beam blade.
Nodding, Duke turned and looked into the female Hersheyan’s
eyes. She smiled and he squeezed her hand. “We’ll be back!” he
promised. After another squeeze, he released her hand, and turned
to Hagjo. “This way!”
Together they raced toward the door the female Hersheyan had
indicated. Her gaze followed them, as they left.
Once at the door, Duke and Hagjo made a swift assessment of
its mechanism and automated control panel. At Duke’s whispered
instruction, Hagjo stood ready on the other side of the doorway and
listened for any sign of activity behind the door.
Duke signaled he was ready and reached to activate the door.
Both Chedi grabbed for their weapons as the door suddenly opened
before Duke’s hand reached the control.
The Chedi smelled the guard before they saw him. Eyes down,
the Limburgen paused in the doorway. Brawny but only one meter
tall, with skin splotched in white, blue and green, the guard entered
carrying a large blazer.
A collective and fearful moan rose from the females behind the
Chedi. Duke immediately closed the door behind the Limburgen,
cutting him off from whatever escape or help he might expect.
Hagjo stepped into the short Limburgen’s path. In one motion he
grabbed the creature’s weapon, and inserted its business end into
the guard’s large, unpleasant mouth.
But before either of the Chedi could deliver a warning, the
Limburgen yanked at the weapon to pull it away. Instead, though,
his thick fingers pulled the trigger, and the plasma discharge sent
the foul smelling creature immediately to whatever dismal place
Limburgens go after eating blazer fire.
The closed door and the Limburgen’s mouth muffled much of
the noise from the blazer, but the Chedi realized there was still a
chance they were heard.
“Let’s move,” Duke hissed. “Our element of surprise may be
gone!” He reopened the door onto an empty hallway. Instructing
the women to hide themselves, the Chedi turned and dashed from
the room.
Duke was pleased to find the long, wide corridor was free of
additional guards. As the Chedi rushed though, they couldn’t help
but notice the large, ornate murals covering the walls in bright
colors on both sides of the corridor. Separated by glass and gold
columns, the images stretched from floor to ceiling. Each displayed
a variety of beings in a variety of locations. Under red, yellow, and
even harsh white suns, they included varying terrains. Mountains,
flatlands, swamps, and deserts. Others included cities with cross-
sections of buildings or subterranean caves. Still others had cross
sections of ships on raging seas, or spaceships and space stations
afloat before a spray of distant stars.
But all shared a theme: each mural depicted a fierce battle—
one in which Wardo’s minions, in their red and white stripped
uniform, were on the verge of victory over the other side.
Individual scenes of destruction and death merged to form each
graphic view. In all, sometimes almost hidden within the scene, the
Chedi were able to locate a depiction of Wardo, in some either
wielding a weapon in battle himself, in others merely watching the
destruction. In all he was clearly enjoying himself.
Hearing nothing but their own footsteps, the Chedi continued
down the otherwise empty hall without incident. Suddenly both
slowed, then stopped before a particular mural.
This one, set in open space, displayed a similar collection of
individual scenes which created the whole of a battle. Cross
sections of large and small fighters darted across the panorama,
firing their weapons on cross sections of other ships that were
clearly built for transportation not battle. Their hulls blown open,
ships spewed their crews and passengers into the black void of
airless, weightless space where they were fired upon again. Other
crew could be seen inside the ships, equipment exploding and
blasting crew.
Both Chedi immediately recognized the battle represented
before them.
***
A team of Choctooine scientists had traveled to Pacific, a
world on the far side of the Wonkka sector which was dying. Their
purpose in establishing labs there had been to assist, but also
learn from the world’s tiny race of natives. Peaceful to the
extreme, the “Pacifists” had happily welcomed the scientists to
their dying world. Once they’d learned of their reason for visiting,
they were even more welcoming.
Their planet had passed through the tail of a comet that had
journeyed through their solar system. The materials from the
comet’s tail had severely damaged Pacific’s ozone layer, leaving
holes that foiled its ability to protect the planet’s inhabitants. The
Pacifists would not survive without help.
The Empire learned of the Choctooine science team’s visit, but
did not believe their mission. Convinced that the planet held either
something of value or a weapon the Wonkka Alliance would use
against them, Emperor Sakarin sent Wardo, in secret, with a
powerful armada.
Caught unprepared, the scientists and the Pacific natives were
forced to flee, attempting to evacuate the planet as Wardo’s
armada bombarded them from space.
Clear that there was no great weapon, Wardo’s forces, in very
short order, also established that there was nothing of value either.
Enraged by the waste of his time and resources, Wardo
commanded his ships to continue the attack on the defenseless
planet. In so doing, he destroyed any chance of its recovering from
the damage of the tail of the comet.
The Choctooine scientists, and as many of the natives that
could be fit on their transport ships, fled the planet, Wardo
ordered his ships to pursue. With only a few fighters and nothing
more than a few blazer banks to defend themselves, none of the
Choctooine science vessels had a chance, and all were all
destroyed.
A later mission from Choctooine to the Pacifica rescued only a
few thousand Pacifists—all that was left of the planet’s population.
Wardo reported to Sakarin that sensor readings located high
energy sources emanating from the planet’s surface. He indicated
his suspicion that they were generated by a weapon. The sensor
readings he uploaded to support his report purposefully obscured
the identification of the Choctooine science labs as the source of
the elevated energy readings, and Wardo was rewarded for a job
well done while the Pacifists were almost exterminated.
***
Still frowning at the mural, Hagjo heard Duke repeat, “Where’s
Wardo?”
He realized then that he, too, had been lost in thought,
searching for their quarry’s image in the horrific painting before
them. Simultaneously, the Chedi found him in the upper left
corner. Aboard one of the ships and behind its large viewport,
Wardo stood wearing one of the red-and-white-striped uniforms
used by his guards. A digital recorder in his hand, the picture
portrayed him wearing a broad smile.
At last turning away, the Chedi proceeded down the corridor,
eyes slit in disgust and anger. Ignoring the remaining murals they
were again moving quickly when, ahead of them, a large set of
double doors swung open and Wardo the Nutt stepped into the
corridor, a large satchel clutched in his hand. His eyes bulged as he
caught sight of the two Chedi and he stopped short.
Just under two meters tall and slightly over one meter wide at
his middle, there was little distinction between Wardo the Nutt’s
head and body—he had no neck, and his whole shape formed a
large, brownish oval. His flat face was only two angry slitted eyes,
a ragged gash of nose, and a nasty gapping mouth stretched from
one side to the other of his lumpy head. A thick tangle of living
roots wriggled into view beneath the hem of his striped robe. At
the ends of his two, short, muscular arms, his hands tightened on
the satchel.
His tangled roots became a blur as the Nutt retreated back
toward the room he’d just exited. His voice blasted in a burst of
gas that brought to Hagjo’s mind the sound of a Buttoxan clearing
its gelatin-filled blowhole.
It was more than his voice that had come to resemble a
Buttoxan, Hagjo joked grimly to himself. Their former ally’s
excesses had increased his girth incredibly, and if not for the ball of
roots he moved upon and the lack of an elephantine nose, his
outline would have matched perfectly a young Buttoxan.
Fortunately his scent didn’t compare.
As the Nutt disappeared back through the doorway, the Chedi
raced forward, each pulling short, blunt-ended tubes from their
belts. Holding the devices away from their bodies, each Chedi
depressed a button on the device’s side, igniting a bright beam of
crackling blue light that leaped from the far end of the tube and
stopped after reaching a meter in length.
The beam-blade was the weapon of the Chedi. A single
filament suspended in a glowing force field, it originated on
Choctooine as a tool for cutting chocolate. The monofilament’s
cutting edge was only a few molecules wide and thus impossibly
sharp, while the energy field put off heat to seal the chocolate and
prevent crumbling, leaving no precious flakes to waste.
Strengthened by their constant training and Fudge-enhanced
senses, armed with beam blades, the Chedi were formidable
warriors.
Glowing weapons in hand, the Chedi reached the doorway and
looked into an enormous ballroom. From its ceiling hung a dozen
massive and gaudy chandeliers. Amongst them were several
floating platforms of undetermined purpose. The far end of the
room was filled with large crates in stacks measuring over four
meters in height. The ceiling loomed another five meters above the
top of the crates. The near end of the room was empty except for
the Nutt and eighteen red-and-white striped guards, all armed.
Wardo gagged inarticulately again as the Chedi neared.
“Glad to see you too Wardo!” Duke growled. “I’m tellin’ you,
buddy, you need to learn to push away from the table. You’re really
packin’ on the kilos!”
Wardo responded with an angry bellow.
Hagjo joined in, “Maybe we should start calling him Lardo!”
The Nutt roared and his guards sprang into action. Three
positioned themselves before the Nutt as the others closed on the
Chedi.
Hagjo and Duke swept their beam blades and leapt forward in
unison. Their glowing blades were a blur as they deflected bolts
from the guard’s weapons struck back. In only seconds, six of the
guards were disarmed and retreating. Despite the Nutt’s renewed
bellowing, the others backed off, joining the three comrades
guarding their employer.
The Chedi jerked to a stop as they sensed a new danger.
Simultaneously they looked toward the ceiling as three new
opponents leapt from one of the floating platforms.
They landed silently between the Chedi and the Nutt, their grey
cloaks brushing the floor. Their one piece uniforms were charcoal
grey. Centered on the stark white background on their belt buckles
was a large red C—the symbol for Cert, the world that served as
headquarters for the Empire. A golden strand, representing dental
floss, wound around the red C. A form-fitting mask hid their
features, covering each one’s entire head except for a jagged slash.
Originating at the chin, the slash exposed their mouths and their
perfectly white and straight teeth. Branching off, two narrower
slashes extended upwards over their cheeks and ended as they
widened around the knight’s eyes.
Colored the same stark white as their buckle, the masks
allowed for no identification of the faces beneath.
These men were three of the Emperor’s knights. Enhanced by
their bitter version of the Chedi’s Fudge, they were the ruthless
enforcers of their Emperor’s every whim and desire.
Despite his mask, both Duke and Hagjo immediately
recognized the largest of the knights as Bluto. Even more than Diet
Vanillla, the leader of the Emperor’s knights, Bluto was known as
the most savage of the grey knights, famous and feared throughout
the Empire and beyond. An expert marksman and master
swordsman he’d butchered many of the Emperor’s enemies.
***
Bluto’s latest victim was Captain Popaiy, of the Wonkka
Alliance Stellar Navy. Bluto’s most dedicated opponent. Captain
Popaiy was killed in a surprise attack on an Alliance encampment.
Like Wardo the Nutt, Captain Popaiy, was a Herbiant, a mobile
and sentient plant lifeform. His remains were found sealed within a
crate of small, airtight metal containers. His wide, green, leafy
limbs, bearing the traditional tattoos of the Stellar Navy, had been
shredded.
Only a single member of the encampment’s crew lived through
the savage raid. The lone survivor identified Bluto by his size, his
ferocity, and his wide, perfect smile. It had been long rumored that
Wardo was also involved in that attack. Bluto’s presence at the
Nutt’s fortress seemed to confirm it.
***
The Chedi held their positions as the other two Imperial
Knights dropped their cloaks and advanced while igniting their
own weapons, their beam blades blood red. Closing in carefully,
they separated, each selecting his opponent.
With the dark power of the Bitter Fudge, the knights sprang
forward, forming a wedge between the Chedi, and driving them
apart, blades whipping in determined attacks. Bluto pulled his
cloak close and held his position in front of the Nutt and his
guards.
Duke faded back as his attacker ignited a second beam from the
bottom of his weapon’s grip. He charged Duke, spinning the
double-blade in swift, brutal attacks that drove Duke further away
from Hagjo. Duke parried each blow, ducking and dodging the
whirling energy beam and its deadly edge. He silently thanked M
and M for their relentless training—the advantage of the knight’s
two bladed weapon would be far more difficult to handle without
both his Chedi fighting skills and the enhancements of the sweet
and powerful Fudge.
Hagjo’s attacker kept to a single blade in his assault. Hagjo
quickly took the offensive. Although he was unable to pierce the
knight’s defenses, he gained immediate advantage, advancing
steadily as the knight retreated.
Beside the Nutt, a guard leveled his blazer at Hagjo’s back. His
finger tightened on the trigger, but then the barrel of the weapon
was deflected, his shot ricocheting off one of the far chandeliers.
The guard’s gaze whipped aside, and he was shocked to see
Bluto’s hand wrapped around the barrel of the blazer.
“Put it away,” Bluto snarled, “my man knows what he’s doing.
The guard attempted to tear his weapon from the Imperial Knight’s
grip. Bluto grinned mirthlessly with his famous smile. As his eyes
tightened, the guard’s face paled. “Just enjoy the show.” Releasing
the weapon, Bluto turned back, confidently ignoring the angry
guard who shoved the pistol back into its holder. Bluto chuckled,
giving the fight his full attention.
At their end of the ballroom, Duke identified the knight’s
tactics and fighting style and adjusted his own. The smile present
on the knight’s face at the beginning of his attack faded as the
Chedi’s cuts came faster and closer. He struggled to regain control
of their duel with no progress. Attacks and parries flew until Duke
sidestepped the knight’s blade and surprised him with an upwards
slash that grazed his grey uniform so closely he could feel the heat
of its energy field on his chest and the pop of the fabric as the
monofilament severed it.
Retreating to a defensive posture, the knight gasped, frowning
in pain from the angry welt reddening his chest and visible through
the charred slash now scarring the front of his uniform.
Duke continued to press. The knight began a wild, spinning
series of attacks. Two of the slashes hit the floor sending sharp
slivers of tile at Duke, ripping though his uniform and tearing into
his legs. With a final spin, the knight discharged his blade and
leapt straight up.
Duke raised his guard, expecting an attack from above. Instead
he saw that the knight had grabbed the enormous chandelier under
which they’d been fighting and braced himself within.
Still unsuccessful in striking his opponent, Hagjo began to
suspect that he was being drawn to the far side of the large room.
He eased his attack, glancing suspiciously at his surroundings.
They’d almost reached the stacked crates he’d noticed upon
entering the room.
Seeing Hagjo’s distraction, the knight lunged with a thrust. The
Chedi parried it easily. The knight withdrew his blade and lunged
again with a feinting thrust which worked perfectly. As Hagjo’s
blade swept aside to meet only empty air, the knight directed the
point of his blade at Hagjo’s chest, but the Chedi had already
recovered.
Quickly stepping away, Hagjo dodged the thrust. The knight’s
blade continued and Hagjo parried it, countering with his own
attack. The knight sprang away, barely avoiding injury. Rolling to
his feet, he was quickly back on guard and resuming his full
defensive posture.
Hagjo kept at him, his beam blade practically flying, but he
kept alert as he realized the knight had resumed his steady retreat
toward the crates. He tried to ignore his growing frustration as one
offensive maneuver after another did nothing more than increase
the speed of the knight’s retreat. While concerned that Wardo
might attempt to escape while the Imperial Knights kept Duke and
him occupied, Hagjo was also confident that, if this were a card
game, their wildcard guaranteed the Chedi a winning hand.
Hagjo took little satisfaction from the knight’s struggling. His
defenses were prime, but that was true in large part due to his
complete lack of offense. Cautious of whatever trick he was now
sure the knight had up his sleeve—or among the crates—Hagjo
increased his guard, wary of any surprise attack.
He pressed the retreating night across the room, until they were
but a few meters of the crates and Hagjo’s Fudge-enhanced senses
warned him of a new danger. Instinctively, he dodged as something
whooshed past his head. The Chedi charged the knight, surprising
his Imperial opponent, who stumbled back in confusion as the
Chedi failed to fall.
Hagjo pressed his attack, sweeping his blade in a shallow parry
and lifted its point, binding the knight’s weapon with his own. The
knight’s eyes popped wide in fear as Hagjo lunged. Unable to
break the bind, the knight continued his stumbling retreat, tripped
and fell.
Hagjo leapt over him, landing with his back to a crate. He
glanced up and swept his beam blade just in time to deflect a small
torpedo. The Chedi’s eyes quickly backtracked along the torpedo’s
path and located a wall mounted Nerph launcher.
***
Discovered on the planet Stark by the crew of an Empire
conquest ship, the Nerph weapon system was immediately adopted
into the Empire’s arsenal. Nerph torpedoes, while extensive in
their variety on Stark, were nothing more than toys for the children
of the warrior races of Ironmen who were native to the planet.
Toys used for practice in preparation for one day when the
children would become warriors like their parents. A more potent
version of the Nerph torpedo had been used as nonlethal practice
weapons by the Ironmen’s military.
Encased in powerful exoskeletons that covered them from head
to toe, the Ironmen’s bodies, were safely shielded from all but the
most powerful attacks. Their armored skin was so strong that it
rendered them almost invincible. The weapons their militaries had
to use to be effective were so powerful that they eventually
destroyed the planet Stark and thereby their entire civilization.
When the ruins of Stark were discovered by an Empire ship,
they found all native life extinct. Their weapons, launched in one
last offensive by several of Stark’s warring governments had
destroyed every living creature.
One of the few remnants of Stark technology that the conquest
ship’s crew found was a Nerph gun similar to the one now
targeting Hagjo. Absent a warhead, these torpedoes would have
been like sponge rubber against the Ironmen’s armor. But they
were perfectly lethal against the flesh of the Empire’s enemies.
Like the Nerdz, the Ironmen of Stark had left a legacy that the
Chedi and all the people of Choctooine strived to learn from. The
wisdom of peace had been taught to all of their people and,
whenever possible each of them did their best to achieve it.
***
Balanced on the balls of his feet, Hagjo glanced at the knight.
Still lying on the floor, the knight grinned evilly back at him.
Hagjo’s eyes paused for only a moment before he looked back in
search of a weakness with the launcher. A sudden, loud crash drew
his eyes to the other side of the room.
Discharging one of his dual blades, the knight fighting Duke
slashed through the chain attaching one of the multiple arms of the
chandelier to its center support. Instantly, Duke dove aside as a
two-meter-wide section of metal and colored glass came
plummeting toward him, smashing into the floor, and shattering.
He dove again, dodging a second chandelier arm.
Duke rolled to his feet and leapt. Whipping his blazer from its
holster, he tumbled from under the great chandelier’s remaining
arms and spun, leveling his weapon. The knight, braced on the
main support chain of the chandelier, saw the weapon and his
smile dissolved. His blade flashed before him defensively.
Duke smiled, holding the pistol’s barrel on the knight. He
squeezed off two shots. The knight deflected the first easily. But
the second plasma bolt’s target was well above the knight. It hit
with a burst of sparks and shattered the thick chain supporting the
entire light array. Eyes wide in panic, the knight leapt as the
chandelier came plummeting to the floor.
Metal and glass flying, the knight hit the floor hard and
tumbled clear of the crash. Regaining his feet beneath him, he
ignited both ends of his blade, scowled at Duke and charged. Duke
slammed the blazer back in its holster as his blade practically leapt
into his hand and ignited in time to parry the knight’s renewed
attack.
Hagjo dodged another torpedo. His blade in a wary guard, he
rechecked the fallen knight, whose smile remained wide and
bright. Satisfied that the stunned knight was no immediate concern,
Hagjo studied the automated launcher. Built into a short wall
standing amongst the crates, it was clearly positioned to secure this
side of the large room. Having no idea of the unit’s range, Hagjo
spun and charged the knight. Sneering as he advanced, Hagjo’s
eyes tightened as the knight quickly regained his feet.
The knight’s smile faded under the flurry of furious blows
rained down by the Chedi. Hagjo angled his stance and his attacks,
keeping the Imperial Knight between himself and the Nerph
blaster, certain for now that the launcher wasn’t programmed to
fire on its own people.
But empowered by the Fudge, he soon saw he was wrong.
Hagjo gasped as he saw the Nerph blaster angle and take aim,
apparently programmed to ignore any obstacle between itself and
its target. His eyes shifted, meeting the knight’s whose expression
made it clear he was aware of the deadly Nerph attack aimed at his
back.
Leaping forward, Hagjo parried and again bound the anxious
knight’s blade. His foot lashed out, kicking the knight aside just as
the launcher fired a double attack. The first torpedo rocketed by
harmlessly. But as the knight fell, his arm flailed through the
second’s path. Struck just beneath his right elbow, he dropped his
blade, screaming in pain as his weapon shut off and skidded across
the floor.
Hagjo landed awkwardly. He rolled back to his feet and dove
again as the torpedo he’d been expecting flew past, barely missing
him before tearing through one of the crates, releasing an
avalanche of wrapped chocolates that flooded from the shattered
crate and rattled against the floor.
Continuing to move, Hagjo leapt over the injured knight and
drew his blazer. Coming up on one knee, he fired at the next
torpedo. The bolt exploded on contact, deflecting the torpedo into
another crate. Broken pieces of chocolate cascaded from that
shattered crate as he continued firing.
Only meters from the launcher, his bolts ricocheted. Firing a
few more times to the same effect, Hagjo stopped, disappointed as
his blasts discharged harmlessly against the launcher’s protective
energy shield.
But back on his feet and free of a blade-wielding attacker, he
could now avoid easily the next torpedo as he leveled his blazer
again. He fired several times, targeting the wall just beyond the
edge of the launcher’s shield. He paused while smoke cleared,
hoping to see that he had punched through the wall and severed the
launcher’s power supply. Instead, he dodged again as another
torpedo burst from the smoke. When moments later the smoke
cleared, he was disappointed again to see the wall bordering the
shield was charred, but the armor behind it held.
Firing again, he hit the underside of the next torpedo. As it
deflected toward the ceiling he retreated. Glancing once more
toward the knight, still on the floor cradling his injured arm, Hagjo
raced away from the crate filled area. Clearing the perimeter, he
turned back and stood ready only to see the launcher’s firing nozzle
slide back into its chamber. Shifting his gaze toward the fallen
knight, Hagjo saw him in an almost fetal position, pain and fear
contorting his features as he struggled to remain perfectly still—
with Hagjo out of range, the knight was intent on not becoming the
launcher’s target again.
Sure now that he was now beyond the launcher’s programmed
perimeter, Hagjo redirected his gaze. Looking past the injured
knight, he spotted the end of the knight’s dropped blade poking out
beneath a pallet stacked high with crates. Extending his arm, Hagjo
let the power of the Fudge course through him, its sweet complex
flavor triggering in his brain. He pushed with his mind and sent the
blade skidding fully beneath the pallet, out of sight and out of
reach.
His arm dropped. He gasped at the high-pitched whine he
recognized as an overloading beam blade and spun back toward
Duke at the other end of the large room.
Having leapt from the crashing chandelier, the knight had
advanced beyond its wreckage and resumed his attack on Duke.
The Chedi’s blade flashed, parrying rapid fire attacks as the knight
pressed forward using both ends of his doubled blade. Weaving in
and back, Duke deflected every attack and answered with his own.
The knight lunged, managing a near miss. Duke retreated.
With another series of rapid-fire attacks, the knight finally
caught Duke’s blade in a bind. Sweeping the Chedi’s blade away,
he also swept his opposing blade in with a slashing attack.
Duke moved to counter it. Disengaging his blade, he dodged
the knight’s swipe and followed with one of his own. A dazzling
flash burst as his blade hit near the knight’s grip at the base of one
of the dual blades. Both tried to withdraw their weapon, but the
energy fields that supported the cutting filaments had fused.
The fused beam blades began to whine. Duke and the knight’s
eyes met as each tried again to free his blade, knowing that the
whine indicated the weapons’ were experiencing feedback—their
energy systems were overloading. Duke triggered his discharge
button—better no blade than one exploding in your hand, as M and
M had often warned in training—but the blade didn’t power down.
A chill coursed down Duke’s spine.
His eyes lit with pain, the knight tried to let go of his weapon.
But with his hands centimeters away from where the blades were in
contact, they were pinned within the weapons’ overloading energy
field.
The whine grew to a buzzing howl. The knight panicked. Duke
released his weapon and retreated in a string of rapid backflips as
the overloaded weapons screeched and exploded in a hot, white
flash. The concussion of the blast threw Duke to the floor.
He slid, finally crashing against a wall. As the roar of the
explosion faded in his ears, he heard the sound of his dropped
blazer pistol skittering away from him across the floor.
Swaying to his feet, Duke turned to face the Nutt and his
remaining guards. Standing with them, Bluto glared angrily at the
Chedi. Both men’s eyes glanced at Duke’s blazer where it lay on
the floor between them, well out of Duke’s reach.
“Chedi” Bluto greeted, his lips spread into an evil grin. He
lifted a massive two chambered blazer from beneath his cloak.
The blazer rifle was a heavy and awkward weapon. Only
someone with Bluto’s size, strength and training could wield it
successfully without assistance. Defenseless, Duke, looked back
into Bluto’s smiling face. Despite the abilities he possessed
through the Fudge, Duke knew he would not likely be able to
dodge far enough to clear the wide blast of a blazer rifle. His mind
itched to use the Fudge’s power to draw his pistol to him, but
doing that, he knew, would only prompt Bluto to fire.
At the far end of the room, Hagjo rushed toward them, readying
his shot. , But with guards and all the wreckage, he had no clear
shot at Bluto and held his fire.
Duke stared coolly at Bluto, still preparing for a dodge he
didn’t believe would be successful.
Bluto snarled, “Let’s see if your Chedi training can save you
from—”
A flash burst beneath Bluto’s chin, cutting off his gloating. His
eyes crossed and his lips pursed, his last syllable frozen in place.
Duke sighed but held his position as Bluto took an awkward half
step forward.
The guards behind Bluto were suddenly shuffling. Confused
shouts rose and they began bumping into one another as Bluto
tipped forward at his waist. His head dipped, and then separated
from his neck. The Nutt belched angrily as Bluto’s head bounced
across the floor.
Duke darted forward. Leaping over Bluto’s head, he kicked the
knight’s collapsing frame in the chest. Wardo’s guards scattered as
Bluto dropped the rifle. Duke ignored it, instead holding out his
hand to catch his pistol as it leapt to him from the floor. Ready for
action, he watched Bluto’s body as it toppled backwards into the
scattering guards.
The guard, who’d seen the Chedi’s ship from the turret, became
visible to Duke as Bluto’s body fell from view. Reigniting her
beam blade, she drove more guards into retreat with only a few
wild shots to defend herself against.
Pulling the breath shield from her face, she angled her blade to
deflect the only well-aimed blazer bolt. No longer hidden by the
mask her features lit with a smile as she looked to her fellow
Chedi. Duke gave her a nod and she turned, her smile tightening to
a thin line and her eyes narrowing as they focused on the Nutt.
Seeing her face, Wardo gasped and blurted another loud, ugly
noise. The Chedi laughed, flashing her blade and leapt at the
retreating Wardo
“I told you I’d be here when you went down, she reminded the
Nutt. “Today is that day!”
She pirouetted, foot flashing in a roundhouse kick to the Nutt’s
chest as she simultaneously wrenched the satchel from his grasp.
Wardo stumbled back as she retreated. Duke stepped to her
side, pistol at the ready. Without looking at his rescuer, he took the
satchel from her hand.
“Thank you Schan!”
“My pleasure,” she said as her beam blade blazed into action
deflecting blazer bolts from the guards’ weapons as the Nutt
burped and moaned orders.
Hagjo’s smile fell almost as soon as he joined the other Chedi.
Several of the guards nervously positioned themselves between the
slowly retreating Nutt and his enemies as he stuffed his face with
the bitter and powerful Fudge of the Empire.
His face stained with dark brown smudges, the Nutt took
several deep breaths and began shuddering with irregular and
increasingly violent spasms.
The guards cast worried glances at the Nutt over their
shoulders, most wishing that he’d order a full retreat. Schan
stepped forward, brandishing her blade, as several guards lost their
nerve and ran, not waiting for an order from their employer. The
remaining few held their position.
Putting his hand on Schan’s shoulder, Duke stopped her
advance and directed her attention to the Nutt’s behavior.
Pausing, the two Chedi’s eyes met briefly before shifting to
meet Hagjo’s. Duke nodded again and he and Schan stepped
backwards in a slow retreat. Schan’s expression clearly displayed
her displeasure in their giving way, but Duke held her shoulder and
kept moving. She snarled but didn’t pull from his grasp.
Hagjo looked back toward the seizing Nutt as the guards
shuffled to stay between him and their unsteady employer. Still
behind Schan, Duke extended his blazer and fired. A blossom of
flame erupted in the center of a guard’s armored chest and he fell
back. As the remaining guards redirected their attention and
weapons at Duke and Schan, Hagjo made his move.
With two quick steps forward, Hagjo threw himself into the air.
Vaulting over the guards’ heads, he slashed, and severed blazer
barrels flew in a burst of sparks. The men broke formation as
Hagjo landed in front of the Nutt. Schan and Duke were also
moving, her blade and his blazer flashing as the last of the guards
fled in full retreat.
The Nutt’s bulging eyes locked on Hagjo as the Chedi landed at
his gnarled roots. Wardo’s only reaction was an increase in his
twitching. His breath rushed up and down his throat as his body
began to be transfigured by the energies of the bitter Fudge he’d
consumed.
Hagjo pointed his blade at him. “It’s over, Wardo. No amount
of Sakarin’s Fudge will help you escape this time.”
The Nutt staggered back, convulsing. His eyes locked on Hagjo
as his hands clawed open his robes.
Flapping at his sides, Wardo’s torn robe exposed his broad, tan
chest and a colorful wrap that covered him from his lower chest to
the writhing roots he used for locomotion. Strapped above it was a
wide black belt from which two pouches hung. As Hagjo watched,
the Nutt reached into one and pulled out a fistful of dark, bitter
Imperial Fudge. The Chedi had to stop himself from slashing the
bitter Fudge from Wardo’s hand,
Seconds later he regretted resisting that impulse.
The Nutt shoved the Fudge into his mouth and three growths
suddenly sprouted from his chest. In seconds they’d grown to over
a meter in length. The Nutt jumped forward and slashed at Hagjo
with two of the limbs which were studded with large, jagged
thorns. The third began forming a large bud that grew and swelled
and began to bloom.
Dodging one limb, Hagjo parried the other with his blade,
severing it. As he came back on guard, he saw the bloom, now
fully open and brilliant orange in color. A thick cloud of spores
sprayed from it as Hagjo dropped and rolled away, avoiding the
poisonous attack. Once on his feet again, he immediately dodged
again as Wardo swung the remaining thorn-studded limb at his
head.
“Wardo, stop now!” Hagjo shouted. The spent bloom withered,
and several new growths begin to form. Extending his blade, Hagjo
waited for a response as two of the new growths began to form
buds. He shouted again. “Last chance Wardo! Don’t be a nut!”
Wardo only shoved more Fudge into his mouth. New limbs
continued to sprout and grow. The Nutt began thrashing,
attempting to strike Hagjo with his remaining thorned limb.
Hagjo ducked past and sliced through the limb with his blade,
then frowned as new sprouts joined the others already forming. If
anything, the new limbs were growing at a faster rate than the first.
As new buds prepared to open, Hagjo attacked in earnest.
Slashing with his beam blade, he split the immature buds and
severed the other forming limbs. The Nutt continued budding and
trying to attack. Ignoring those efforts, Hagjo stepped in and sliced
twice through Wardo's torso.
With the Nutt now divided into three pieces, Hagjo stepped
back and frowned. His blade still high over his head he, breathed
heavily as he looked down on the scattered sections. Wardo’s face
was still and lifeless but every section of his divided body
continued to flinch and squirm. Hagjo’s eyes widened in disgust as
he saw several root-ike tendrils already growing from one of
Wardo’s larger pieces, seeming to reach for the bags of Fudge.
With a disgusted expression, Hagjo leaned forward and pulled the
slashed belt and its pouches free of the root like fingers. Noting
that each pouch was still nearly half full, he threw them and their
contents across the room.
“Regenerate from that you traitorous, chocolate hoarding,
peanut!” Hagjo growled, knowing that was exactly what was going
to happen. As he backed away from the chopped Nutt, Duke and
Schan stepped to his side.
“I’d hoped he wouldn’t make that necessary,” Duke sighed.
Schan remained silent.
His anger gone and his stomach uneasy, Hagjo holstered his
blade, envisioning those fine roots thickening into hooked fingers
that would continue sprouting from Wardo’s severed pieces.
Grasping their counterparts, Wardo’s body would slowly pull itself
back together and then begin its regeneration in earnest.
“I just hope that’s enough to keep him until the retrieval squad
gets here,” Hagjo said quietly. “He’s eaten a lot of Saccharin’s
Fudge.”
All at once, the Chedi tensed, their Fudge enhanced senses
warning of a new danger. At the sound of an evil grunt, Hagjo and
Duke began to turn, but Schan was already in motion.
Running, she leapt into the air, narrowly passing between
several ripping blazer bolts. Twisting, as she flew, she slashed with
her blade, deflecting a bolt before landing and dodging another.
Discharging her blade as she landed, she chopped at the guard’s
arm with the metal blade handle deflecting the guard’s aim. In the
same motion, she stomped on one of the wide, flat feet of the
Chikitan guard.
***
The Chikita closely resemble a sentient banana. With bodies
the shape of a moon sliver and covered in a thick yellow skin, what
appears to be a furry brown stem sticks out from the top of their
pointed heads. Their arms and legs fail to distract from the
resemblance. Over two and a half meters in height, the Chikita’s
fibrous forms weighed in, on average, at almost one hundred and
fifty kilograms.
***
Bellowing loudly, as his foot flattened beneath Schan’s, the
guard’s eyes widened in anger, and pain. Distracted by the pain, the
Chikita was surprised when she grabbed away his weapon.
Pulling the pistol free, she found herself looking directly into
the Chikita’s wide, ugly mouth. The being’s shout of pain was
enhanced by disgustingly foul breath and pale green teeth, sharp
and jagged.
The Chikita grabbed her and leaned in to bite her face. Quickly
reversing her grip on the blazer, Schan pressed its barrel against the
guard’s chest and shouted a warning. Rather than stop however the
Chikita’ green teeth snapped again. When the next attempt scraped
her cheek, Schan fired once.
The Chikita dropped to the floor, Schan continued firing as an
angry bunch of Chikitas rushed in. Duke and Hagjo opened fire as
well. Wounded Chikitas dropped like overripe fruit, their comrades
behind crashing to the floor as they slipped on their fallen
comrades. Quickly, their numbers were sliced and those still
standing dropped their weapons, and split.
The room was suddenly quiet. No more of Wardo’s red-and-
white striped guards were in sight, Schan turned back to her
friends. Hagjo was using his beam blade to slice through Wardo’s
leather satchel. Duke then held it open, exposing the variety of
solid dark and milk chocolates.
“That’s what we came for!” Duke grinned.
Hagjo smiled thinly, weary. He hugged Schan and shook
Duke’s free hand.
“The Emperor won’t get his dirty tentacles on these beauties!”
Schan announced.
“Tentacles?” Hagjo’s brow furrowed.
“He’s ugly enough!” she replied with a shrug.
Laughing, the three positioned themselves in the corners of a
triangle and raised their clasped hands high. “Chocolate for all!”
they declared together.
Immediately, they set about wrapping up their mission: First
they freed the injured Imperial Knight from the Nerph trap, treated
his wounds, and secured him with the other captured guards in the
fortress’ holding cells. Then they disabled the Nutt’s ship and
fighters on the landing pads, leaving them for the Chedi retrieval
team to confiscate when they arrived.
Noting that the tiny tendrils had continued to form along the
edges of Wardo’s severed parts, Schan dragged them several
meters apart. To further hinder his regeneration, she ignited her
blade, the filament snapping rigid in its glowing energy field, and
slashed the tiny tendrils away, like so many whiskers under a
crazed barber’s razor.
Finally, the trio gathered the ladies from the atrium onto their
Chedi ship. Powering up the engines, they lifted into the still dark
sky and left the Nutt’s fortress behind.