An Account of Creation and the War of Opposing View Points

In the beginning there was the Worm, and nothing else. This being, so huge that its mass consumed nearly half the Bowl of the world-toilet, had for millions of eons lied submerged in the watery depths, wrapped about itself in a coil, completely motionless. The Worm, a simple minded organism, believed its slumber would continue unchecked for all time -- which was exactly what it wanted. It did not realize that for thousands of years its own body had been in the process of asexual reproduction.

Unexpectedly, to the shock of the Worm, at the point in time that marks the advent of creation, a second, smaller worm crawled out from the elder’s body. The newcomer was Bajahi the Supreme, from whom all future events were to transpire. The Worm, annoyed by this disturbance, unraveled its ancient frame and slithered towards Bajahi, wanting to devour its own prodigy. But the Worm was slow, and Bajahi had ample time to sprout arms, legs, teeth, eyes, ears, horns, and wings. Just as the gargantuan beast was upon him, Bajahi spread his ailerons and flew up and out of the water, escaping the mouth that would return him to the unspeakable gut whence he came.

Bajahi soared through the nothingness, flying ever upward until he alighted upon the Lid of the world-toilet. He was yet to find any solace, for the Worm, enraged to a frenzy, reared its head up from the Bowl and howled its disdain, screaming "eaaaeweah!" Bajahi raced to the Iron Handle of the toilet and with a strength that only he, a deity spawned from the Worm could muster, yanked the lever. Instantly the Worm, along with much of the water, was sucked down the Drain that led to the Sewer abyss. The thing was so huge, though, that its body became wedged in the pipe and torn to shreds under the pressure. Therefore, after the whirlpool subsided, chunks of the Worm’s segments floated back up to the surface, forming islands large and small.

The Worm did not die; its brain and one of its hearts survived the Great Flush, and in the Sewer the thing regenerated itsel. From then on the Worm rested with its head lodged halfway up the Drain(as far as it could fit), mouth gaping open, awaiting the hopeful flush that would send Bajahi, the object of its hatred and hunger, straight down its throat.

* * *

From his heavenly throne atop the Lid, Bajahi the Supreme, who wished to relax forever like the Worm, looked upon the land masses below with little interest. Still, he did not want it to go to a complete waste, as his predecessor would have, so he ripped out his anus and tonsils. From these he crafted two demigods, the Neon Yellow Creature and Lord Powell. The Creature in turn extricated Henry the Pedophile Care Bear from his urethra and Powell gave birth to Adrii the Narc. Bajahi gave them incredible powers and assigned them the task of shaping the Worm’s chunks into a beautiful, habitable world, and to fill it with all kinds of animals and vegetation. Bajahi’s final command before dismissing the four demigods was that they never, under any circumstances, return to the Lid. This came to be known as the Ban of the Lid.

From the very start, Powell and the Creature were in constant disagreement. While the former wanted nothing but perfect, geometrically shaped mountains and basins, the latter pressed for long, thick and bulging rock formations and deep crevices. If Lord Powell created simple barnyard animals, the Neon Yellow Creature propagated exotic monkeys. And when the time came to manufacture humans, war broke loose.

It was Lord Powell’s vision that Homo Sapiens be entirely obedient to her puritanical, thoroughly orthodox doctrines, incapable of free will. The Neon Yellow Creature, ever the liberal adversary, wished for the exact opposite: a world of anarchical freedom and unbridled sexual indulgences. To aid her cause, Powell, with the help of Adrii, raised an army of deadly robots called the Church Police. To counteract such an advantage, the Creature had Henry call forth a Druidic cult that worshipped the Worm and screamed "eaaaeweah!"

The conflict that followed, called the War of Opposing Viewpoints, was bitter, bloody, and explosive, lasting nearly five millennia. The Church Police would march across the land in droves, showering the Druids with laser fire and being crushed into scrap metal by the enemies sonic death shrieks in response. Most of what the demigods had slaved to create in the beginning was burned, cracked, sunken or simply disintegrated. Throughout all this time, Bajahi the Supreme did nothing to help either side.

Eventually, the Church Police dwindled in numbers and the tide of the war tipped in favor of the Neon Yellow Creature. Lord Powell fled into the sky with the Creature in pursuit and there, atop the seat of the toilet-world, hunter cornered prey and a fight to the death ensued. Fearing for the life of her mother, Adrii became desperate and decided to disobey the most fundamental command in history: she would break the Ban of the Lid and invoke the intercession of Bajahi. Latching on to the wall that towered over the Bowl, she began the ascent to the upwards.

Henry the Pedophile was a sneaky fellow, and he spied out Adrii and guessed her intentions before she was even halfway up the wall. Using his bear claws to propel himself upwards at twice the speed Adrii could, he quickly overtook her. Bajahi would help his cause, not hers, he believed. Henry reached the Lid, pulled his body over, and no sooner did he utter a word than was he smitten by the fist of a wrathful Bajahi. The Care Bear streaked through the void and plummeted all the way back down to the bottom of the Bowl where he was impaled on a jagged mountain peak.

Presently Adrii attained the Lid and threw herself at the feet of Bajahi with genuine humility. The Supreme One, still incensed by the first intrusion, was about to tear her head off when he noticed just how repentant Adrii was for breaking the Ban of the Lid, and decided to hear her out. After listening to her account of the War of Opposing View Points with a compassionate ear, Bajahi offered to help her if she could give him one reason why he should intercede on behalf of Lord Powell’s side over the Neon Yellow Creature’s. In the spirit of being a narc, Adrii reported that the Creature employed the use of Druids who worshipped the Worm.

No explanation is needed as to why this news brought out the darkest anger imaginable in Bajahi. With the speed of thought, he took wing and descended to the Iron Handle, giving it a mighty yank. As the war-torn world below began to swirl under apocalyptic tidal waves, the Supreme One flew down to the toilet seat where the duel yet persisted. Bajahi grabbed the Neon Yellow Creature, who was indeed shocked, broke his neck, and tossed him into the Bowl just as all of creation collapsed upon itself and emptied into the Drain. The Worm, aroused from sleep by this second flushing, mistook the Creature for Bajahi and swallowed him with great relish, damning the demigod to spend eternity being digested in its belly.

The Worm did not, however, choose to eat its own flesh, so the monster spit back up the scraps that had comprised the continents. The land masses were once again unrefined and devoid of life; an entire age of the world had been erased. Meanwhile, Bajahi retired to the Lid for a second time, leaving Lord Powell and Adrii to start everything over.

No one, not even Bajahi, had been aware that Henry had survived his fall and escaped the Second Flush, and when Powell came around to inventing humans the way she saw fit, the Pedophile slipped in a bit of his mischievous influence. Thus mankind of all ages was given a susceptibility towards corruption. Lord Powell, weary of another War of Opposing Viewpoints, withdrew to the Lid so that she may sit at Bajahi’s right hand. Adrii the Narc remained in the Bowl, now referred to commonly as earth, destined to spend an indefinite number of centuries tracking down Henry. Even today she can yet be found sitting dutifully in the front seat of a bus or classroom, ready to combat insubordination of any kind.

THE END

The Saga of the Sand Eaters: Chapter I

Thrust into another world through cosmic teleportations never to be explained, the SNR student body lives a violent existense of constant warfare--between eachother.


The social structures of their previous lives have created bitter rivalries. The dominant side in the struggle up until now are the Laxians, trained fighters equipped with the more advanced weapons. The other side, the Lethurians, are the rebels if you will, outcasts grouped together in the grit of combat, trying to earn respect no matter what the costs...


"D6R9, where are you?!" moaned A11Scrub. He found the little rust bucket moments later, hiding in between a stalagmite and a stalagcite, deep within a dark corridor of Cave Base 7. "I know you don't want your anual rectal cleaning, but it is absolutely neccassary if we are to prolong your life another week!"


Both D6R9 and A11Scrub had been humans at one time, but a terrible explosion when the Civil War first began had left them both pitifully handicapted, the former suffering the worst. A11 lost his limbs and most facial skin down to the skull, so metal plates and mechanised arms and legs were needed for him to continue his work for the Lethurian rebels. D6R9 had been so badly ruined that only his brain, right hand, and his lower torso could be salvaged, all of which were placed inside a trashcan like body that rolled on wheels. D6 communicated by pulses and beeps that only A11Scrub could understand, making the two partners in their fowl but indispensible job for the tribe of outcasts.


That job was solely waste management. Together they were know as the Crapadroids, and on this particular day they were alone in the base.


A11 would scoop up all the shit and empty it into D6, who in turn would reprocess it into nutrient packed food for the Lethurians. But after a year, D6R9 would become so encrusted with excess wastes that danger of imploding was immenent, and it was up to A11 to clean things out.


"Chit chit, zschhhhhh!" whined D6R9.


"Oh, come off of it," retorted A11 as he extended his garden shovel. "You know you need it."


"Nicch, chit beep beep zchhhhhh!" pulsed D6.


"What's that? There's danger in the back of the cave?" said A11 with out looking up from his messy work. "If you think I'm going to fall for such a ruse, then I should be the one getting his ass cleaned out."


It would have been wise for A11Scrub to take heed of D6R9's warning, for seconds after he gave it, a powerful explosion shattered the cave ceiling, hurtling the Crapadroids along with rocky debris through a smoky dust cloud all the way to the far end of the cave. Sun light from the out side illuminated the cavern as Laxian Troops poured in through the gapping hole by the dozens, waving their weapons and screaming.


Each Laxian was protected by a heavy chest plate and shoulder pads, their faces concealed by wide brimmed-caged helmets. They were armed with their Lax spears and lances, deadly weapons with a net on the end designed for throwing energy balls that would leave an enemy temporarily paralyzed; thus the poor victim would be left helpless as they were hacked to pieces by the trident of razor sharp blades that crowned each net.


"You idiots," barked the Laxian Commander, the two red stripes across his helmet signifying his rank. "This is the wrong cave!"


"Sir," said the Laxian Trooper in charge of explosives. "All signs pointed to this cave as being their main base; we tried as hard as we could--"


"Not hard enough," said the Commander as he gave the Trooper a heavy cuff with his gauntlet glove.


The belligerent officer was about beat more of his men when a loan Laxian Trooper from the other end of the cave called out. The whole surly bunch rushed over to see the stunned Crapadroids lying on the floor, half buried beneath the rubble.


"Beep cliteep, zschhhhhh," whistled D6R9 as he tried helplessly to get up. A11Scrub was having just as hard a time pulling himself togehter; his right arm had fallen out of its socket.


"Oh, please be gentle, oh mighty Laxian victors," pleaded A11 as the Troops roughly brought him to his feet. "I'll tell you anything!"


"Ni ni ni, zschhhhhh!" scolded D6.


"Oh--I meant--I don't know anything! Kill me if you must, you won't get any information as to the location of Cave Base 4 from me!"


"Let me shut this dork up; for good," said a Laxian Trooper, fingering his knife.


"No," said the Commander as he cuffed the brash young Trooper. "Whatever this thing is, it might know something. We should take it prisoner."


"Hand me my arm plea--mmmphhh!" muffled A11 as his mouth was covered.


With A11Scrub gagged and in bondage, the Laxian strike force made ready to withdraw from their failed mission. D6R9, still trapped under the rock debris, wailed mournfully to A11.


"What should we do about that beeping trashcan?" asked a Trooper.


"Who cares," said the Commander. "Lets get back to our fortress. I've got a feeling we're all gonna get laid tonight."


Two hours later, it was quiet once again in Cave Base 7, the Laxians long gone. Using his last resevoirs of strength, D6R9 finally managed to extricate himself from under the large rocks the explosion had buried him with. Cherping triumphantly, the little Crapadroid switched on his built in feild light and rolled down the cavern floor towards the main quarters of the base. The hasty Laxians hadn’t taken the time to search through the drawers that held the maps to the location of the other bases and the top secret Lethurian battle strategy blue prints. And judging by his quick glance, D6 guessed they hadn’t attempted to hack into the base’s rudimentary computer, the machine that was slowly absorbing the whole Laxian system; a task that when complete would allow the Lethurian rebels to have all the enemy information they could ever want and more.


Activating Cave Base 7’s door with his retractable probe, D6R9 rolled out into the desert dusk. Gripped in his crook of his wheel supports was the arm of A11Scrub that had been misplaced. The first sun of this strange planet had already passed to the other side of the world, and the second one crested the mountains to the far west. To the north, south, and east, six of the planet’s 9 moons littered the sky.


It was four miles of rocky boulders and ridges to Cave Base 4, and it would be an arduos and deadly journey for the Crapadroid. D6 would have to get home before dark; at night was when the werekyotes came out, savage beasts that traveled in packs and tore any living thing to shreds. His only defense was the small electric probe built into him, capable of repelling an angry lizard but useless against a massive werekyote.


Increasing his speed up a steep hill, the twilight shadows decieved poor D6R9 and he ran right into a heavy sand drift. Beeping and pulsing every vulgarity know to man in his own language, the Crapadroid could not pull free and wound up deeper in the sandy mire.


In the distance, a loan werekyote let out a disconsolate wail, which was soon picked up by many more of its brethern, ones much closer to the helpless D6R9...


Not so far away from the plighted Crapadroid, in Cave Base 4, the council of Lethurian leaders was in session. Seated around the long black table in the center room of the headquarters were Dill, the Lethurian leader, a hot headed, hellbent warmonger; Moe, the arrogant swordsmen, always in contention with Dill, who fought expertly with two rapiers; Lee Otto, a skilled tracker who could follow a path several days old and leave his own trail hidden even to the sharpest of eyes; Von Gross, a diplomat by nature with idealistic plans to unite the Lethurians and Laxians politically; Jerome, the champion warrior of the rebel tribe, who tatooed a skull on his back for each Laxian he defeated in one on one duels, a form of combat the Laxians were becoming more and more hesitant to engage in, for Jerome hadn’t lost up until now; Hosmosis, who spoke in bizarre canticles known only to Moe, whom he served as a squire; Dick, a stern strategist who always took a cautious approach to warfare; Hadrian, the only woman on the council, short and squat with thick rimmed glasses, who would argure with Von Gross until it lead to fierce physical confrontation. All wore tanned werekyote skins, signifying the origin of the tribe’s name.


We’ve lost battle after battle, Von Gross was saying. If we were only to tap into past connections with individual Laxians, then we could end this war peacefully.


"Those connections are gone!" said Dill. "As weak as they were way back when, your little friendships should be nonexistent by now. The Laxians and Lethurians have been fighting for too long now; they don’t want to end this peacefully and neither do I."


"‘Neither do I’ ?" chided Moe. "What about the rest of us? You may be completely callous, but I’m getting fed up with of seeing comrades die."


"And it never gets easier!" sobbed Hadrian.


"Wuzza, wuzza wuzzle," said Hosmosis.


Hadrian stood up and put her fist to her chest. "My proposition is that we remove this beast Hosmosis from the council."


"Ni!" daunted Moe. Hosmosis took up a chant as he beat his head on the table over and over again.


"Moe, you better get him to bed," said Dick. The swordsmen gently lifted Hosmosis from his chair and escorted him out of the room.


"Damn asshole," said Dill with a lecherous glance to the departing Moe. Returning his attention to the remaining council, he said: "I have an idea, and it involves Jerome."


"Yeah?" said the mighty Jerome, looking up from the checkers game he was playing with Lee Otto on the far end of the table.


"Don’t worry about it, Jerome," Dill reassured. Von Gross, Dick, and Hadrian leaned in closer to hear what the others obviously weren’t meant to.


"Here’s my idea," continued Dill. "It’s my theory that the Laxian scum have been witholding their strongest fighters from one on one combat with Jerome, and their strongest happens to be their leader."


"Heinous the Worm, he’s the strongest?!" gasped Dick.


"No," corrected Von Gross. "He was killed in combat about a month ago. The new leader of the Laxians is said to be Entelliton."


"Yes," said Dill, annoyed at the interuption. "And if we can use Jerome to cut off the head of the enemy, the day will be ours!"


"What if Jerome loses," said the skeptical Von Gross. "Entelliton is said to be more than a match for our hero."


"But do you really think they won’t just get another leader?" said Hadrian.


"Possibly," said Dill. "But werekyote packs always fight amongst themselves when it comes time to choose a new leader, which in the Laxian’s case would be to our advantage. It’s worth a try."


"I just remembered something," said Dick. "Where are D6R9 and A11Scrub? They were supposed to be home from Cave Base 7 by now."


"I don’t know, maybe they decided to spend the night under the covers or something," said Dill. "This meeting is ajourned."


The next morning, Moe and Hosmosis were outside bright and early, testing out the newest design of high powered tazers. The common Lethurian rebel fought with a long knife or rapier, and sometimes with a hand held tazer or an electric llambooty prod. Some Lethurians with less sense of tradition would use captured Laxian spears, and though their use was allowed, it was looked down upon and viewed as a dishonorable form of combat.


"How many volts was that?" asked Moe after a test shock.


"Narshu dishnacough," said Hosmosis.


"Still not as high as I want it," said Moe. "Give it another jiggle."


As Hosmosis was reinserting the taser into his own tough hide, Moe noticed movement off to his left. Riding past the Lethurian guards who warded the valley of Cave Base 4 on a llambooty, the cowlike reptilie that the rebels used for transportation, Lee Otto trotted up to Moe and reigned his mount to a halt. Distress was in his eyes.


"Looks what I found outside of Cave Base 7," said the grizzled tracker, tossing a metallic object onto the ground before Moe. It was A11Scrub’s arm. A few yards way, Hosmosis had fortuitously activated the tazer. Wracked with electric spasms, he thrased about like a rabid beast trying to get the tazer off of him.


"One minute," said Moe, rushing to the aid of Hosmosis. Upon his return, he said: "What happened?"


"Well, early this mornin,’ at the first sun’s rising, I rode down on this here llambooty to Cave Base 7," began Lee Otto. "And what did I find? I found a whole mess of werekyote tracks and A11’s arm there left on the ground. So I figures them Crapadroids met an unfortchnit’ end when I see that the only tracks coming from the base belong to the wheels of that little D6R9, so I’s go inside to invest’gate. And what do I find? I find the whole damn roof to the base blown off!"


"Laxian explosives," whispered Moe.


"Same thing I thought," said Lee Otto proudly. So I goes up through that hole, and I finds the tracks of about forty people heading east towards to what looked like the indentation of a glider. I follows them tracks to the end, and guess what’s I finds? Another one of All’s arms!” The tracker pulled another metal arm out from his sattle pack and threw it on the ground beside the first arm. "They’s taken him prisoner!"


"Hmm, very dramatic," said Moe. "Did you follow the werekyote tracks at all?"


"No, I was hungry by the time that crossed my mind, so I headed back," said Lee Otto.


"You idiot!" said Moe. "D6R9 is our main source of food!"


"What’d be the point, them werekyotes had to of finished him off," said Lee Otto. "I say we do something to recover that A11Scrub, before he starts talking."


"You’re right," said Moe, in agreement for once. "We’ll have to let D6R9 go. But the longer that flamboyant A11Scrub is in Laxian hands, the more he’ll squeal."


"You saying we should send them a threatnin’ letter, heh he," said Lee Otto, leaning forward with an impish grin.


"No, I was thinking of a rescue mission."


"I aint had no thrills in awhile, so this would get me going just dandy."


"Hosmosis!" Moe the swordsmen called to his squire. "Get a fresh llambooty for Lee Otto and one for me, and some sturdy walking shoes for yourself."


"I’ll tell ol’ Dill so he can give us--" began Lee Otto, sliding off his sattle as Hosmosis scurried off to complete his tasks.


"No," interjected Moe. "The fewer people that know about this expedition, the better chance we have of avoiding the attention of those probe cameras the Laxians have sent hovering around us as of late. Infact, one’s behind you right now!"


Lee Otto reeled around, whipped out his hunting knife and confronted the probe camera. These deadly cameras, designed by the Laxians for spying, made an insidious humming noise, like that of a wasp, and shot poisoned tipped darts at their prey. The probe camera opened up fire on Moe, and, quick as lightning, he unseathed his two rapiers and deflected the deadly darts. Lee Otto the tracker dodged to the side and sent his knife spinning into the probe camera’s lens, cutting off its vision. The buzzing machine opened up dart fire in every direction, and one of the Lethurian guards, abandoning his post to aid the tracker and the swordsmen, was struck in the eye. Another guard, a stocky skin head, hurtled a large rock at the probe camera, smashing it to pieces.


"You okay?" asked Lee Otto, gasping for breath.


"A dart nicked my calf, but I’ll be all right," said Moe, poking the smoking heap of the probe camera with his right hand sword. "You there, Chubsies, that was a good throw. Now take Zaius in to get his eye examined."


"Ai ai," said Chubsies, making a pun as he led Zaius away, blood gushing from the eye.


Half an hour later, the rescuers embarked on their journey. They were only three strong, but stealth and speed would be the key if this mission were to succeed, and not large numbers of people. Moe and Lee Otto rode atop sturdy llambooties, and Hosmosis trailed behind on foot, carrying most of the expeditions supplies. The three wore white Lethurian distillation suits, textile designed to abosorb body moisture and convert it into drinking water that could be consumed through a drinking tube connected from the armpit to the mouth. There would be no use for these distallation suits until they reached the desert flats; canteens filled with water from the deep recesses of the cave bases would sustain them until then, for the two scorching suns this planet orbited would not permit the flow of any water on land. The Laxians had no need for such water preservation when traveling; they owned a fleet of solar powered glider transports that cold cover a hundred miles in one day. The Lethurians on the other hand, had to rely on the slow moving but dependable llambooties, known for their tenacity at surviving without water for weeks on end.


After filling up their canteens to the max with water from Cave Base 7, the three comrades took up their route, east across the desert flats. It was a four day journey by llambooty, and werekyotes wouldn’t be the only thing to watch out for. On the flats, huge worms, measuring up to a 100 yards in length, prowling their individual terrotories in search of food, listening for any sound of movement, would be quite a hazzard. To avoid these terrorizing beasts, the threesome would have to stick to the rocky high grounds that crisscrossed the flats at various intervals. It would add an extra day to the treck, but at least they would have a better chance of escaping with their lives this way.


Six miles into the barren flats, the canteens already reduced to a few pitiful drops, Hosmosis gave a cry to take cover.


"What is it?" asked Moe after the three were concealed behind a mass of boulders.


"Nonishum na clic clic clic," said Hosmosis.


"What’s he saying?" said an irritated Lee Otto.


"He says he caught sight of some Laxian gliders, off to the north," said Moe.


"Let me take a quick peek," said Lee Otto.


"Stay low and make it quick," said Moe.


The peek Lee Otto took was by now means a quick one, and when he finally came back down, the tracker was speechless. Moe climbed up the boulder to take a look, and the sight indented a similar impact on his morale.


"Shit, it’s an invasion force," said the swordsmen upon his return. "There must have been close to two dozen gliders, and I’m guessing they were loaded with Laxian Troops by they way they flew low and sagged. It must be the entire Laxian army!"


"Looked to me like they’s heading west to Cave Base 4," said Lee Otto. "That damn Crapadroid must have squealed already. Should we head back to warn the others?"


"We’d never make it in time; we’d be too late," said Moe.


Stuck in their rut of indecisiveness, the swordsmen and the tracker set to work drawing plans and stratagies in the sand. Another sharp warning from Hosomosis brought the two’s attention back to the skies, from where a familiar insidious wasp buzzing came into audibility. A probe camera--no--many probe cameras, were advancing from all directions. The threesome’s cover was blown.


"To those of you that are about to die, I salute you," said Moe, unsheathing his rapiers as the first of the deadly probe cameras came into view.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Saga of the Sand Eaters: Chapter II

Thrust into another world through cosmic teleportations never to be explained, the SNR student body lives a violent existence of constant warfare--between each other.


The social structures of their previous lives have created bitter rivalries. The dominant side in the struggle up until now are the Laxians, trained fighters equipped with the more advanced weapons. The other side, the Lethurians, are the rebels if you will, outcasts grouped together in the grit of combat, trying to earn respect no matter what the costs...


“I will be rewarded for this, won’t I?” said A11Scrub, bound to the bow of the foremost Laxian invasion glider; the tip of a knife resting on the back of his neck.


“Right now all we want is directions, so cut the bull shit!” said Parktaine, the savage Laxian officer, second in command only to Entelliton. He was only recently elected to his high ranking position; just a month earlier, Lasantin, the former vice-ruler, had been defeated by Jerome the Lethurian in a oneon one duel.


“Oh my! Such rude treatment for such a kind service I’m doing,” said A11. The Crapadroid wore a facade of indifference, but inside he felt like the lowest form of life surmiseable.


After being abducted from Cave Base 7 yesterday evening, A11’s captors had brought him before Entelliton. Threatened with bizarre forms of masochist torture, the Crapadroid’s will had broken immediately and he offered to tell the Laxians anything. Taking advantage of this hapless prisoner, Entelliton decreed a full scale invasion on the morrow.


“Is it coming up?” demanded Parktaine, breaking A11’s train ofthought.


“Yes, Cave Base 4 is in between those two ridges up ahead,” said A11Scrub meekly. At that moment, the Crapadroid made a silent vow to himself that somehow, some way, he would avenge the Lethurians and his own shattered honor by getting back at the Laxians, even if it meant resorting to something crude andchildish.


“Get ready to land. Create a complete circle around that valley!” barked Parktaine into the radio system connected with all the other gliders. “Fifteen to the open western flank, and as for the other nine gliders, stay in flight to hunt down and Lethbian runaways.”


I know just how to bite back, thought AllScrub, a smile creasing his metallic lips as the ground rose up to meet thedescending glider.


Deep inside Cave Base 4, the council members were once again gathered around the long black table. Those who had been on guard duty during the probe camera incident were under fierce interrogation, made to kneel down at the foot of the table while the leaders harangued them.


“Please sir,” whined Zaius, a black patch over his left eye socket. “I’ve only got one eye!”


“You lost your eye during the probe camera attack; moron,” said the scrutinous Dick.


“And what do you have to say for yourself?” said Dill, placing the larger of the two guards in the spotlight.


“Well, you--you--know, know I’ve tried my, well the best part is--I mean--oh...” stuttered Chubsies.


“Wait, who’s on guard duty right now?!” said Hadrian, rising to her feet with a start.


“Don’t worry,” said Dill. “Zaius and Chubsies are out there right...shit, who the hell is watching out for more probecameras?”


“There’s nothing to worry about; it’s still me and Chubsies shift!” said Zaius, proud of his job.


“You idjit,” said Chubsies to his comrade. “He’s trying say that you’re gonna be replaced and not me.”


This idiotic conversation might have continued endlessly, as was inevitable with such clever folk, had not Edgar, the Lethurian solider, intervened. He fell through the council room door, flesh torn to shreds by Laxian spears blades, leaving a trail of blood behind him.


Lifting his head up, he gasped: “They’re here.” And with that,he fell silent.


Rushing to his slain comrade, Dill held Edgar in his arms and shouted: “Nooooooo!!! I will avenge thee!”


“Sad, if only he could of had more of a part in this sorrowful tale,” said Von Gross, grimly.


“What say you we greet our visitors?” said Jerome, unsheathing his huge rapier, which was more like a broadsword. Dick pulled the switch that sounded the alarm throughout the whole base, but judging by the raucous coming from upstairs, fighting hadalready ensued.


When the five council members and a handful of Lethurians soldiers, weapons in hand, reached the vast entrance cavern of the base, all stepped back in trepidation, even brave Jerome. Close to forty Laxians, fully armed and armored, were hacking about a dozen Lethurian defenders to pieces, some of whom were helplessly paralyzed by energy balls. Cave Base 4’s gates were wide open, and to either side of the lofty room, down the windy corridors of the base, the screams and clangs of warfare shook the walls. It was complete pandemonium.


“There must be some kind of treachery involved in this!” saidDick.


“Lethurians!” screamed Jerome, about to charge forward when a hand on his shoulder stayed him. He reeled around angrily, expecting to see the always cautious Dick, but saw instead thatit was Von Gross.


“It would be suicide, even for you,” said Von Gross. “I have a better strategy. Wait here.”


Catching sight of Von Gross approaching, the organized Laxian strike force effortlessly shoved aside the last two Lethurian defenders and moved in to surround the diplomatic councilmember.


“Laxians, I come before you unarmed!” shouted Von Gross. The armored horde hesitated, and a brash Laxian Trooper used his spear to launch an energy ball at Von Gross. It struck him in the leg, throwing the Lethurian off balance. Falling to thefloor, he continued.


“This bloodshed is not necessary! We can resolve this social warfare like adults!” Another energy ball came flying, striking Von Gross in the chest, making it harder for him to speak. “Please, listen...to me...there can be peace if you only...”


“This man does not represent us!” proclaimed Dill, he and the other council members edging along the wall towards the concealing shadows of a cave passageway.


A stocky Laxian pushed through the throng of indecisive Troops; his face was concealed by a helmet but all could tell from the two gold stripes across the head gear that it was Parktaine. Von Gross, stunned by the energy balls, lifted up a hand weakly to ward off what was sure to come within the next few seconds.


“There will be no peace until every one of you rejects are dead!” said Parktaine, running his Laxian lance through Von Gross, who took the fatal blow silently, keeping his wrathful expression set in place; forever.


“After those five,” continued Parktaine. “Take their leaderalive!”


“Jerome, buy us some time,” said Dill, the Laxian Troopersmassing forward.


“I will stand with him until the end,” declared Hadrian, lifting her electric prod against the oncoming tide. With Jerome and Hadrian standing firm in place, Dill, Dick, Chubsies, Zaius, and a hefty Lethurian solider named Bull, took advantage of the diversion and sprinted down a dark corridor; one that would lead to a secret exit.


“Yuppa tuppa!” screamed Jerome, taking out two of the foremost Laxians with one swipe of his great rapier. Hadrian pierced another with her prod, sending the Trooper into convulsions. Within seconds, the two Lethurian rebels were hopelesslysurrounded.


A number of miles away, out on the desert flats, Moe rested on a rock, slowly dying. The fight with the probe cameras had been catastrophic beyond belief, leaving the ambidextrous swordsman filled up like a pin cushion with the heavily poisoned darts. There had just been too many of the insidious machines, survivors of the fight would for ever after say; close to a dozen of the probe cameras, attacking from all angles and perspectives. Luckily, each and every one of the waspy attackers had been destroyed, but not without dire loss. Lee Otto and Hosmosis, wounded themselves, leaned over the body ofMoe.


“Well, I reckon he’s passed on,” sniffled Lee Otto.


“I’m not dead yet,” said Moe.


“Hosmosis, he’s nearly dead!” said Lee Otto.


“I’m getting better.”


“You aint fooling no one,” said Lee Otto, matter of factly.


“I think I’ll go for a walk,” said Moe, trying to get to hisfeet.


“Narshoo dishnacough!” screamed Hosmosis, slamming Moe’s head into the rock. The swordsman let out a faint gasp, then wentstill.


“Hosmosis, you did the right thing,” said Lee Otto, patting the beast on the back. “I say we mount our llambooties and head on back--hey, where’s the llambooties!?”


“They ran away when the fight started,” said Hosmosis.


“Aw shit--wait a minute--you just talked and it wasn’t no funny talk!” said Lee Otto, stunned. “You’s been putting us on allthis time, aint ye?”


“Ih wana wanga?” said Hosmosis, as if Lee Otto were the crazyone.


“Damn, you crack me up,” said Lee Otto. “Now I can tell by those tracks that our llambooties ran off in a northern d’rection, across that big ole open stretch of sand, and I’ll bet you my dist’lation suit they’s been gobbled by worms.”


“Ho ho ho!” laughed Hosmosis, pointing at Lee Otto’s clothing. Probe camera darts had pierced and popped the distillation suit at all the key places; the unique textile, essential for surviving in the barren desert, was ruined.


“Shit damn cracker boob fart shit!” cursed Lee Otto. “No water, no ride, we’s dead! Is there anything we can do?”


In uncanny sequence with the tracker’s plea for help, there came the swift gushing sound of a Laxian glider flying overhead, probably patrolling the desert flats in the wake of the invasionforce.


“Nonishumna aviarum! Nonishumna aviarum!” shrieked Hosmosis,hysterically.


The glider, heading away from the two, jived sharply back in their direction upon Hosmosis’ shout and came in for a landing. It skidded to a stop on the ground several yards ahead of the rebels, spraying a cloud of sand, and two fully equipped Laxians hopped out of the air craft, ready to swat these Lethbians wandered so far from their protective caves.


“Only two of ‘em,” whispered Lee Otto to his comrade. “I’ll take the one on the right, you take the one on the left.”


Hosmosis let out a snarl and launched himself at the Laxian on the right. Before he had gone five feet, both of the Laxians had hurled their energy balls into the wild rebel, leaving him frozen in place. Taking advantage of the time it would take the Troopers to reload, Lee Otto, carrying his trusty hunting knife in his left hand and one of Moe’s rapiers in the other, faked to the right then surged to the left, plunging the knife deep into that Laxian’s throat. Taking a broad swing with the rapier, it but barely nicked the other Laxian’s helmet, causing no damage. Chuckling, the Trooper raked Lee Otto with the trident end of his Laxian spear, leaving three deep slashes across the tracers shoulder. Collapsing in pain, Lee Otto tried to negotiate while the Laxian Trooper poised his spear tostrike.


“Heh he, you got me real good, buddy,” said Lee Otto, clutching his shoulder, which was bleeding perfusidly. “Did I know you way back when at SNR?”


“No, and I’m gonna enjoy killing you, after what you did to my friend,” said the Trooper.


“Whoops, did I do that?” said Lee Otto, looking over at the knife he had thrust into the other Laxian’s throat.


“Yeah, you did, and I think I’ll finish you off with that very same blade,” said the Laxian, moving over to his fallen companion to retract the knife.


“Come on buddy, it was self defense! You don’t need to kill me!” pleaded Lee Otto.


Ignoring the tracker, the Laxian pulled forth the bloody knife, held it up into the light of the two suns, and was about to stab Lee Otto, backhanded, when a burly mass, screaming incoherently, slammed into the Trooper. It was Hosmosis, finally free of the energy balls’ hold. The Laxian dropped the knife, and for a split second, the weapon rested vertically on its hilt, the point of the blade pointing skyward; and in that split second, the Trooper fell forward, impaling himself upon the sharp knife. The impact was so quick and precise that the blade managed to find its way through the chest plate and into the Laxian’s vital organs.


“Nasty business, this stuff,” said Lee Otto, looking upon the two slain Laxians. A twinge of disgust worked its way through him: afterall, those two had once been his peers and classmates, and now they had died by his own hands. In self defense, he reminded himself. Lethurians, excluding hotheads like Dill or Jerome, never provoked a fight; the Laxians were the aggressors in this social civil war. The twinge of disgust was suddenly replaced by the burning pain in his shoulder, a wound, he realized, that would prove fatal if not treated.


“Hosmosis, can you bandage me up and carry me to that glider? Do you think ye can fly it, too?” whined Lee Otto, Hosmosis kneeling over the tracker to bind the three deep gashes with strips of his own distillation suit.


Minutes later, Lee Otto was safely resting in the back of the glider while Hosmosis worked furiously at the manual propeller peddles, the only way a glider of this sort could achieve aviation without use of a high dropoff. Once the craft was about 100 feet off the ground, Hosmosis left the arduous task of peddling, spread the wing span, grabbed the stick, and they wereoff.


“Good ole Hosmosis, taking us back home to Cave Base 4,” said Lee Otto, lying down half asleep in his loss of blood stupor.


If Lee Otto had been sharper at this moment, he would have realized that Hosmosis wasn’t stearing the glider west towards the besiged base, but east towards the Laxian strong hold.


“Before you kill me, just let me get my hands on that shit eating son of a bitch-rat!” said Dill, finally in the audience of A11Scrub the Crapadroid.


But of course, they weren’t alone. The escape from Cave Base 4 had been desperate and heart-stoppingly suspenseful. The Lethurians, pursued by Laxian Troopers at every crevice and fissure in the cave's tunnels, were lucky if they had gotten off on a brutal beaten and enslavement; Laxians rarely ever gave any quarter. By the time Dill reached the light of the suns and the dry fragrance of the open desert air, all his companions, including Dick and Zaius, were no where in sight. Everyone had been seperated from the Lethurian leader, leaving Dill to fendfor himself.


At that first breath of atmosphere, things hadn’t seemed so hopless; Cave Base 5 was just a half mile away from 4, a dash to safety Dill could have made in under ten minutes. Could have made, if not for those pesky gliders. Circling the base like vultures, high in the sky, the Laxian aircrafts had spotted the fleeing Lethurian right away, and all troops were immediately alerted. Energy balls had come flying from all directions when the grand chase began, like a muscle impedeing rain. What the Laxians didn’t know, was that only three or four energy balls had actually found their target.


“Please Dill, don’t be mad at me; I had no choice!” whinedA11Scrub.


The two Lethurian prisoners, one the traitor, the other the lion shorn of its mane, stood at the center of a sea of Laxians. Now that all Lethurians were killed, captured, or fugitives in the desert, the Laxian strike force busied itself at plundering Cave Base 4. Dill, down on his knees on the floor of the base's vast antechamber, the same room where Jerome and Hadrian had taken on the horde of Troopers and battled to the death, was surrounded by a semicircle of Laxian leaders, all helmets removed. There was Parktaine, second in command; Flaggot and Warchingwa, the former a skeletal faced, grinning adverssary, the latter the very same comander who had led the attack on Cave Base 7; Sachron, the pudgy one, and armless A11Scrub, standing off to the side, chagrinned.


For the moment, despite his harsh words, Dill wasn’t concerned with the Crapadroid's betrayal; he was scheming a daring assassination attempt that was more likely to end with his own death. The usurped Lethurian leader could feel the paralyzing bonds of the energy balls lifting; in seconds he would be free of their constraints, ready to whip out his rapier. The Laxians hadn't bothered to disarm Dill, or even tie him with ropes, assuming that he was incapable of moving. The only thing left to do was to wait for the coming of their ruler, Entelliton.


The Laxian officers, slouching and talking amongst themselves, ejaculated at the vague image of Entelliton in the foyer of the gate. No heralds had announced his coming; there had been an empty gateway, then unexpectedly a black figure under the base entrance appeared, standing with his back to the two bright suns, casting a shadow on the whole Laxian assembely. Entelliton.


“We finally meet again, little man,” said the dark complected, brawny Entelliton, pushing the always smirking Flaggot aside toconfront Dill.


“Always happy to see me down on my knees in front of you, aren’t you?” said Dill vehemently. Warchingwa stepped forward and cuffed Dill sharply with his gauntlet glove.


“Come on now, don’t be so mad at me; afterall, it's your friend A11 who led us to you.” The Crapadroid looked away, not daring to make eye contact with Dill. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Dill,” continued Entelliton, “but it just so happens that I won’t be able to combat your Jerome one on one afterall; Parktaine had the honor of finishing him off.” Parktaine beamed, then barbarically held up Jerome’s head on the end of his Laxian spear. Flaggot did likewise, grinning demonically, his weapon adorned by the head of Hadrian. “They died to save their friends, but you’re all cowards! First you freeze us with your damn balls then you gang up on us like the pussies that you are!” screamed Dill, tearing his gaze away from the heads of his comrades. Warchingwa had to be held back. “The point is, little man, that you Lethurians are weak, always have been, and are about to become extinct! Warchingwa, do the honors,” said Entelliton as he turned his back to the Lethurian leader, walking briskly from the antechamber. Warchingwa brandished his Laxian spear, and was about to bring it crashing down over Dill’s head when everything abruptly went haywire. Free at last of the energy ball bonds, Dill fell himself backwards and thrusted his leg into Warchingwa’s ankles, sending the belligerent Laxian sprawling. Before any Trooper could ready themselves, Dill was on his feet, unsheating the Lethurian rapier. He took a wild stroke with his blade at the ponderous Sachron, missed by an inch, and in that same fated slash, ran the rapier across Flaggot’s belly, who had been coming up fast from the side. Flaggot let out a howl of agony, the smirk disappearing forever. Letting out a ferral battle cry, Dill pushed past two more Laxians and charged after the departingform of Entelliton.


He’s coming for me! This is my deserved end, thought A11Scrub, in the midst of the melee. To the Crapadroids relief, Dill dashed by without a glance.


Entelliton, sensing the disturbance, reeled around to confront Dill. The Lethurian was 10 yards away from reaching his arch enemy when, finally organized, the Laxian Troopers picked up their spears and launched volley after volley of energy balls at the rebel. First came the feeling of having a foot asleep, then exhaustion, then a complete lack of nerves and cerebral control. Frozen in place, in actuality this time, Dill glared feebly upat Entelliton.


“Someday, one of us will kill you,” whispered Dill.


“Not likely,” said Entelliton, wresting the rapier from Dill’s stiff fingers. He surveyed the weapon momentarily, almost as if he fancied it. Then, gripping it firmly with both hands, the Laxian ruler swept the sharp rapier from one werekyote skin clad shoulder to the other, leaving the body of the once proud Lethurian leader headless; right there under the front door of Cave Base 4, in the dusk of the first sun. From inside, A11 let out a sickened moan. “This war is finished!” declared Entelliton, the invasion strike force of Laxians swarming around the decapitated body. “We’ll camp here a few days longer, just long enough to find the rest of the Lethbians, then we’ll head back to our women. Flaggot, where are you?” “He’s dead!” someone in the crowd shouted.


“Oh, Sachron then: take a couple men and a glider back to Laxantion; take the prisoners with you and make sure you tell the women that we won’t be back--”


“This war isn’t finished, Entellion,” said A11Scrub, steppingboldly forward.


“My name is Entelliton!” barked the leader. Parktaine and Warchingwa moved in cautiously to restrain the armlessCrapadroid.


“Whatever,” said A11. “There’s just one last thing I wanted to do before you finish me off like all the rest...” A11 bent over, unsheathed his garden shovel with his mouth, hunched over again, scooped something mushy out of a pouch on his utility belt, and catapulted a hunk of week old feces straight into Entelliton’s eyes; maggots and tape worms swarmed about the Laxian leader’sface.


“It burns! It burns!” screamed Entelliton. A few Troopers snickered, then a bunch, then the entire Laxian invasion forcewas in an uproar.


“I’m disappointed, A11,” said Entelliton, wiping the shit away. “I was going to give you new arms and a high place in the Laxian army for the service you did us, maybe even second in command.”


“What?!” said Parktaine.


“But now,” continued Entelliton, ignoring Parktaine, “you’ve blown it. Sachron, take him away with the rest of the prisoners. Make sure everything is secure at Laxantion.”


“Ai ai,” said Sachron, shoving A11Scrub into a glider.


Not so far away to the west, atop a rocky plateau where werekyotes gathered in packs that were more like herds, especially now at the setting of the second sun, a loan Lethurian watched all these events unfold down on Cave Base 4, via his built in telescopic vision. Werekyotes , the monstrous beasts, surrounded him; they were his pets and he was theirmaster.


The day of vengeance was close at hand.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Saga of the Sand Eaters: The Final Chapter

Thrust into another world through cosmic teleportations never to be explained, the SNR student body lives a violent existence of constant warfare--between each other.


The social structures of their previous lives have created bitter rivalries. The dominant side in the struggle up until now are the Laxians, trained fighters equipped with the more advanced weapons. The other side, the Lethurians, are the rebels if you will, outcasts grouped together in the grit of combat, trying to earn respect no matter what the costs...


A good forty miles away from Cave Base 4, at the setting of the first sun, at about the same time Dill was beheaded by Entelliton, a single glider cruised down out of the sky and skidded to a rough stop on the sandy earth. The pilot of the light aircraft, realizing the need for stealth, had carefully landed his ship behind a cluster of boulders, packed up some provisions, and aroused his sleeping companion.


“Ih juit no orodref!” said Hosmosis, shaking Lee Otto, who lie dazed and confused in the glider’s hull.
Lee Otto sat up sharply. “Where the hell am I?! Who the hell are you?! What have you done with my family jew--oh, there they are. I must of dreamed that up.”


“Cumata, cumata,” beckoned Hosmosis, walking briskly awayfrom the glider.


Rising to his feet, Lee Otto tried to use his right arm and found he couldn’t; the deep shoulder slashes, three of them, from the Laxian spear had left his good limb completely limp. “Slow up, Hosmosis, I’m feeling a bit groggy,” said Lee Otto, struggling to catch up with his companion. When Lee Otto finally reached the other, he found Hosmosis squatting down behind a rock. Ahead of the Lethurians, about 400 yards into the distance, was a large building: Laxantion.


“Holy shit, that must be the Laxian fortress,” said Lee Otto. “What’re we doing here?”


“Cumata, cumata!” summoned Hosmosis for the second time.


“Shouldn’t we wait until it gets dark? I mean, we might get ourselves caught...” Lee Otto’s admonition went unheeded--Hosmosis was already darting across an open stretch of sand in the dusky desert twilight towards Laxantion. “Shit,” said Lee Otto, right arm flopping lifelessly as he jogged after his rebel comrade.


To either side of the massive building’s gates, boulders were stacked neatly, forming a semi-compact, protective wall around Laxantion. Into one of the shadowy, gaping crevices Hosmosis darted, disappearing from Lee Otto’s sight. The tracker called out in frustration, completely unaware of the energy balls hurtling down at him. Three of the balls hit their target, and the Lethurian was helplessly paralyzed within seconds. If Lee Otto had had the ability to move either arm, he would surely have rubbed his eyes to be sure what he saw nextwasn’t a mirage.


From out of the Laxantion gate came about twenty firm bodied women. Each carried a Laxian spear or a defensive lance like the men, but wore none of the protective equipment. Clad only in short shorts and tank tops, skin richly tanned by the desert suns and legs silken smooth, the Laxian women surrounded the overly excited Lee Otto, weapons held at the ready.


“He must be a Lethbian with that top,” said a blond haired girl with thick thighs.


“But he’s only a kid; couldn’t be more than ten,” said another female Laxian, poking Lee Otto gently with the trident blades of her spear.


“He smells like llambooty shit,” said a long nosed girl.


“No need to be persnickety, missy,” said the energy ball-enthralled Lethurian.


“He looks like he’s been through a ruff time,” said another blond girl. “Lets take him inside and bathe him.”


“Sounds damn good to me, so lets head on in and--”


Before Lee Otto could finish his reply, a burly mass emerged from the shadows of the boulders, screaming in bizarre tongues. Stricken with terror, some Laxian women broke for the gate while others who were greater in valor, namely the ones with the most energy balls, stood firm against the feral storm that wasHosmosis.
“Iswana nah uruckhai!” screamed the wild Lethurian into the face of a small Laxian girl, grabbing and shaking her until shecried.


It took more than one energy ball to neutralize Hosmosis, and by the time he was finally subdued, every Laxian woman was either in tears or in rage from the bitterly caustic remarks the Lethurian had made at them, in his own language, of course. It was the way he had pronounced and enunciated the insults, not so much what the incoherent bantering actually meant.


“God damnit Hosmosis,” said Lee Otto to his companion, both Lethurians held firmly in place by the invisible energy ball shackles. “I was about to get a bath, but you screwed my chances up! What were you trying to accomplish here in the first place?”


“Ah wuzza wuzzle?” said Hosmosis with an faultless smile.


“What’s going on down there?” called a voice from above the gate. Although Lee Otto couldn’t make his body cringe, he felt likewise; the voice belonged to a man.


Two Laxian men came out from the gate, ready to confront thetrespassers.


“Oh Kevaggot, it was so horrible,” said the long nosed girl, the same one who had commented on Lee Otto’s odor, collapsing onto the taller of the two male Laxians. “The big dark one over there--oh the things he said!”


“It’s a good thing Entelliton left us behind,” saidKevaggot.


The other Laxian man stepped forward. “While these Lethbian spies are still paralyzed, I want you girls to carry them into the dungeon,” he said. This one, a little more than chubby, had a lewd way of speaking that reminded the Lethurians of adangerous snake.


“But Cartman,” said the blond girl with thick thighs. “You said, that if I slept with you, I wouldn’t have to handle theprisoners!”


“We’ll all help carry them to the dungeon,” said Kevaggot, taking charge of the situation.


Lee Otto and Hosmosis exchanged a nervous glance.

* * *

“Give me water!” rasped Lee Otto into the gloomy dungeon corridor, rattling his empty water cup across the cell’s bars until it sounded like machine-gun fire.


“I’m cwumming, I’m cwumming!” said the dungeon key keeper from the other end of the hall, carrying a jug of water from theLaxantion wells.


Lee Otto and Hosmosis had been held in captivity for almost a whole day, and the Laxians had treated them with the utmostinhumanity.


“Swo, you wants swome water?” said the red headed key keeper, taunting the Lethurians with the water jug. He was safely on the other side of the bars, out of Lee Otto’s reach.


“Yes!” wheezed Lee Otto. “You haven’t given us nothing to drink since we got here!”


“Nah frigidarium!” screamed Hosmosis, banging his head onthe stone wall.


“Okway, give mwe your cwup,” said the key keeper.


Lee Otto held out his cup pleadingly, and the Laxian snatched it away. The lisping key keeper filled the cup generously, then purposefully dropped it to the floor, and the precious water seeped away into the dirt.


“Whoops, did I dwu thwat?” said the Laxian with an insidious snicker. “Mwan, I dwon’t knwow abwout you bouys, but I’m thwirsty.” The key keeper put the water jug up to his lips, drained half of it, then splashed the rest over his face.


“You asshole!” fumed the tracker, slamming himself upagainst the bars.


“Well, thwat was your water wation fwor twuday,” said the Laxian, getting ready to leave. “Swee you tomorrwo!”


“Wait a second,” said Lee Otto, softening his tone. “I think I might be a bit taller than you; lets stand back to back.”


“We’ll jwust swee who’s the twaller!” said the key keeper, putting his back up against the dungeon cell bars.


“Narshu dishnacough!” growled Hosmosis, wrapping his meaty arm around the Laxian’s neck and crushing it into the coarse iron bars. The key keeper clawed and bit at the Lethurian arm, trying to scream for help in between gags, but no one came. Hosmosis’ grip proved unbreakable; within two minutes, the wild rebel had choked every bit of life out of the key keeper, and blood trickled out of the unfortunate Laxian’s mouth.
“Golly Hosmosis, all I wanted was the keys,” said Lee Otto, reaching through the bars and snatching the dead key keeper’skey chain.


In an instant, the two Lethurians were out of the cell, the taste of escape in the air. Lee Otto, who had the best aim, armed himself with the strangled key keeper’s Laxian spear and bag of energy balls. Hosmosis took the only other weapon: a long cylinderic object, with a thick mushroom like head on one end, that vibrated like a tazer but didn’t produce a spark. Both Lethurians were equally confused as to why the key keeper had such an object in his possession.


“Lets bust ass out here,” said Lee Otto, heading for thedungeon door.


“Please help me,” said a meek voice as the two fugitives passed by its cell. They didn’t hear him. The armless prisoner, a new arrival in fact, was cruelly chained to the stone wall, where he would spend the rest of his numbered days, neglected, and a feast of flesh for insects and fouler vermin. “Come back...” moaned A11Scrub, the door to the dungeon opening andthen slamming shut.


“Shades, I don’t know how we pulled that off,” said Lee Otto, serving Hosmosis as the glider’s co-pilot.
After leaving the dungeon, the two rebels had run a perilous gauntlet to escape. The women, aroused from their bathing pools by the raucous, had fled before the wrath of Hosmosis and his vile tongue, and Lee Otto had done his best to apologize. Kevaggot and Cartman were easily dispatched by energy balls and the captured Laxian spear, but Sachron proved another matter. Just when the two Lethurians were about to exit Laxantion through the gate, the pudgy Laxian officer appeared and cut off their passage. Sachron, who had arrived the night before, brandished his long Laxian lance, challenging either of the Lethurians to proceed. Lee Otto was out of energy balls.


Hosmosis, activating the strange tazer that had no charge, tackled Sachron and plunged his vibrating weapon up the Laxian’s rear. Taking advantage of the distraction, Lee Otto dealt Sachron a heavy whack across the helmet with his spear, knocking loose the head-protector. With his foe thus exposed, and oddly invigorated by Hosmosis’ penetration, Lee Otto thrusted the spear’s trident of blades down in between the Laxian’s eyes, nearly splitting the head in half.


Presently, the two Lethurians sat comfortably in the bow of the glider, the same one Hosmosis had left carefully hidden outside Laxantion. It was high noon, when both suns were equally above the planet, and a strong wind carried the light aircraft swiftly west at an altitude of about 300 feet.


“Damn, look at that!” said Lee Otto to his companion, pointing to the sand flats floor, far below. A massive worm, a common denizen of these barren parts, was burrowing north at a rapid pace, leaving what looked like a gargantuan mole tunnel from horizon to horizon. “I’m glad we’re not down there with that big ole thing,” said the tracker, flatening the wings to reduce air friction.


“And then what happened to you?” asked Dick, leaning forwardeagerly.


“Well,” said Moe, scratching his head thoughtfully, “after I was abandoned out in the desert, I made the trek back to Cave Base 7, and spent the night there, discovering quite a few intriguing bits of information.”


“Such as?” pried Dick.


“You know that computer we have there but kind of forgot about?” continued Moe. “Well, the downloading is complete! I’ve learned all the Laxian technological secrets, the most notable being a special anathema to energy balls.”


“Explain,” said Dick.


“It’s quite simple,” lectured Moe. “All you have to do would be to coat your clothing with a chemical mixture, its components common on this planet, and then you’d be completely immune tothose energy--”


“Dick !” interrupted Zaius the cyclops, leading Lee Otto and Hosmosis in through the door to Cave Base 2’s small but efficient council room. “Look who’s here.”


“Good to see y’all alive, Dick and--ahhh!” screamed Lee Otto, turning white at the sight of Moe.


“Mordom nah harvisimus!” said Hosmosis, casting himself onto the floor and tearing at his hair fitfully.


“Relax,” said Moe. “I tried to tell you that I wasn’t deadyet.”


“All that aside, how did you two find this place? Did you see our Lethurian Gray Flag for rallying after defeat hanging outside?” asked Dick.


“No, we saw that bright Lethurian Red Flag for victory pride hanging outside,” said Lee Otto.


“Zaius you idiot!” barked Dick, slapping the guileless Lethurian solider. “You were supposed to hang the gray one, notthe red one.”


Before Zaius could concoct a proper excuse for his foolishness, Bull the hefty Lethurian barged into the council room, short of breath. “The whole Laxian invasion force is coming right this way!” he panted. “They must have seen that bright red flag hanging outside.”


“Man the battle stations!” ordered Dick. “We’ve got to make this base a pretty damn durable fortress if we want to live.”


The cave itself was actually quite small, its subterranean wells none to dependable, so it had never been occupied by Lethurians for any length of time. But now, for the few surviving rebels, numbering only a little over a dozen, having been pursued and harassed all over the western desert, Cave Base 2 was the only refuge left.


The Lethurians had a dynamic advantages at this base that Cave Base 4 lacked. Nestled within four jagged peaks, a natural barrier that restricted gliders, Cave Base 2 was a formidable citadel. To either side of the base’s gates, the peaks formed a natural wall, and directly before the entrance, a sheer slope of rock made any ascent an arduous task. At the bottom of this drop off, there was a round, walled in basin that sloped up in the opposite direction. And because of this natural feature, at the present moment the Laxian invasion force of Troopers and the remaining Lethurians were at the same eye-to-eye level, despite the wide pit between the swarm of angry hornets and the rabbits backed into a corner.


“Duck for cover!” ordered Dick, the Laxians flinging their energy balls across the chasm. Most fell short, but a lucky few made it across to the Lethurian line of defense, which was spread out sparsely before the gate.


“Everybody put these on!” shouted Moe, rushing to the front with a bundle of clothing in his arms. To all the Lethurians he distributed a vest, jacket, blanket or table cloth, pretty much any textile he had been able to find, and urged that the material be worn immediately.


“What’s all this green sticky stuff on it?” asked Chubsies, holding up his vest in revulsion.


“It will make energy balls ineffective, because it’s practically the same chemical stuff,” said Moe.


“How’d, you make all these so fast?” asked Dick, astounded.


“When you’re older, I’ll explain it,” said Moe.


“Naexlax na cumata!” cried Hosmosis, pointing to the otherside of the chasm.


The mass of organized Laxian Troopers, numbering close to a 100, gave up the futile bombardment of short falling energy balls and prepared to assault. With Warchingwa the heinous Laxian officer in the lead, the entire force let out a deafening battle cry and charged down the far slope and into the basin.


“Wait till they start climbing this side....” cautionedDick.


Warchingwa cleared the low lying basin and scrambled up the foot of the near slope, a score of the Laxian forerunners at hisheels.


“Now!” commanded Dick.


Chubsies and Bull, the strongest of the surviving Laxians, grabbed long iron levers and pried under two separate heaps of boulders. The piles crumbled, sending an avalanche of heavy rocks onto the ascending Laxians. A hard chunk of earth rolled sharply into Warchingwa’s leg, snapping the bone in half. Howling in pain, the Laxian commander was buried along with more than two dozen Troopers in the rain of debris. Stunned, the rest of Laxian invasion force halted the charge and retreated to the top of the far slope, the Lethurians taunting them the whole time with caustic remarks.


An hour passed. A second charge was mounted by the Laxians, and once again a good number were wiped out by boulders held in reserve. This time though, quite a few Troopers made it to the top of the near slope, flinging their energy balls and slashing with the trident bladed spears. To their utter dismay, the energy balls had no effect on the Lethurians, who wore the special clothing and fought with bestial ferocity. At one point, four heavily armored Laxians engaged Dick all at once, beating him to the ground. Rushing to his comrade’s aide, rapiers held in either hand, Moe stabbed with precision, sending the point of each blade right through the slotted helmets of two Troopers and into their eyes. Dick got to his feet, jabbed the third Laxian in the back of the neck with his knife and slashed the fourth’s legs with a stolen Laxian spear. Clasping hands in gratitude, the two bloodied rebels returned to the battle.


The Laxian Troopers were repulsed a second time, with greater casualties. The invasion force had been cleft in twain; almost fifty dead Laxians, crushed, slashed, and electrocuted, littered the slope, making the basin a pool of blood. Nevertheless, the Lethurians were far from victorious. Chubsies and one eyed Zaius had gone down, trying to ward off too many Laxian spears at once. Bull had broken his jaw, not from fighting, but from tripping on his own accord, and was out of combat. Hosmosis, most durable of the rebels, had taken blow after blow and kept on fighting.


“What do you think they’re doing over there?” asked Dick, bandages securely in place. “They’ve just been sitting over on that side of the chasm for hours.” It was now approaching nightfall, and the Laxians hadn’t stirred since the second melee. Three watch fires had been set across the crest of the near slope, and all surviving Lethurians kept sentinel. Everyone, even Hosmosis, was burdened by the inevitability that the end was at hand.


“I reckon they’ll be camping for the night,” said Lee Otto. “Prolly’ll strike again in the morning.”


“It will probably be the last time, too,” said Dick. “Now that there’s all these rocks and dead bodies on the slope, it’ll be an easier climb with more cover, and we don’t have anythingleft to throw.”


“Must be something we can do...” pondered Lee Otto, watching the second sun crest the western peak of Cave Base 2. “Damn, my head hurts from all those whacks.”


Moe’s eyes went wide and he leapt to his feet. “That’s it!” he said, nearly screaming.


“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Dick.


“The head, we need to cut off the head!” said Moe, pouring out his effusive excitement.


“Who’s head?!” said Dick, agitated.


“Entelliton, the head of the Laxians,” said Moe. “We’llcapture him.”


“And how’re you gonna accomplish that?” asked Lee Otto,skeptically.


“Very carefully, and it will have to wait until nightfall,” said Moe. Without a moments hesitation, the swordsman explained every detail of his risky but worthwhile plan, giving his comrades a glimmer of hope.
Entelliton relaxed in a hot tub, the water warm and bubbling. Surrounding him were three beautiful women, all completely nude and subservient to his every desire. Sipping on a Martini, the Laxian ruler reflected on how good life was, especially now that his enemies were almost crushed toextinction.


A chill breeze suddenly swept through the room, and the hot tub water turned a putrid green. Looking about in horror, he saw that the three women had become decaying corpses, eye balls gone, leaving black and empty sockets. Scrambling from the filthy water, Entelliton watched the three corpses disintegrate into dust and vanish. The door to the room burst open, freezing the wet and scarcely clad Laxian ruler with a bitter cold wind. Standing in the doorway, shoulder height, holding his head in his hands, the eyes red, was Dill.


“Tonight, one of us will kill you,” said the head, bursting into flames. Dill’s body hoisted the burning head, and flung it at Entelliton, the teeth snapping viciously...


“Nooo!” screamed Entelliton, falling out of his cot, his body bathed in cold sweat. “Ah, just a nightmare, just a--” a shadow moved in the tent.


“Having a bad dream, Entelliton?” said Moe, dumping several stolen Laxian energy balls on the enemy ruler.


With Entelliton frozen stiff, Hosmosis and Moe gagged him and dragged him from the tent. Now came the tricky part. It had been easy enough to infiltrate the camp of sleeping Laxians and make it to the ruler’s tent, but it would be exceedingly more difficult to make it back out with the ruler himself in tow. Be that as it may, no Laxian could ever match the Lethurian stealth, and by this trait the two rebel comrades managed to make it out of the enemy camp, unseen, and back up the slope before anyone noticed Entelliton was missing.


Parktaine, having been aroused from sleep in the adjacent tent by his master’s scream, took his time at coming to see what the problem was. Upon seeing an empty tent and evidence of a struggle, the second in command Laxian rushed to the crest of the far slope, and from across the chasm, caught a glimpse of Moe and Hosmosis just as they were carrying Entelliton into Cave Base 4 and shutting the gate. The alarm was given, and the whole camp was roused.


“You think you’ll get some kind of ransom off of me?” said Entelliton, hanging by his wrists, several inches off the cavern floor, tied to a stalacite. “Big shit it will do you.”


“We’re not interested in any ransom, we just want to use you as a hostage so that we can escape or something,” said Dick.


“I sahy wu kell him now,” said Bull, his mouth bandaged.


“Be quiet,” said Dick. “There must be something peaceful wecan negotiate.”


“Kiss my ass, you Lethbian,” said Entelliton, spitting on Dick. Lee Otto moved forward to strike the defiant prisoner, but the Laxian ruler stopped the Lethurian in his tracks with only a menacing glare. “That’s what I thought,” said Entelliton.


“I should remind you that you’re our prisoner and that your life is in our hands,” said Moe, threatening Entelliton with hisrapier.


“And yours are in mine,” said the Laxian ruler. “My men won’t negotiate; they’ll kill you all, every last one of yourejects.”


“Hey guys, the Laxians are preparing an attack right now!” said M’yates, a Lethurian solider who had tended to the wounded rather than doing battle.


“Have fun negotiating!” mocked Entelliton.


“Maybe we will,” said Lee Otto, spitting on the Laxian ruler, then scurrying away.


Outside the gate, it was just as M’yates had said: the Laxians, who had awakened and armed themselves with amazing speed, were all massed on the basin floor, Parktaine at the front, outnumbering the Lethurians by more than five to one. The Troopers were ready for an all out charge to end this war. Up atop the near slope, in front of the gates, where there was nothing left to throw, the sleepy-eyed rebels prepared to make one desperate last stand.


“I saw what happened to Von Gross when he tried to negotiate with Parktaine,” said Dick dubiously. “I just hope that they’ll think us holding their leader hostage will make a more convincing argument. At least I've got this energy ball proof shirt on. Well, here goes.”


“Good luck, Dick,” said Moe.


“Same here, buddy,” said Lee Otto.


“No no jhaba wanka,” said Hosmosis, trying to swat a bug.


Taking a deep breath, Dick started down the hill, unarmed, holding his hands up above his head. “Laxians,” said Dick, his voice cracking. “I come before you weaponless and with terms: your leader, Entelliton, is in our possession. I have but only to say the word and he will be killed.”


“Kill him then!” said Parktaine. “Most of the boys think I’d be a better ruler anyway. C’mon, Laxians, kill them all, killthem--”


A sound, not so far away, stopped everyone dead in their tracks, Laxian and Lethurian alike, sending a chill up the spine. It was a howl, a werekyote howl. Then a second howl, coming from another direction, then a third, and then a whole cacaphony of feral wails from every direction--hundreds of werekyotes. Dick ran back up the slope and, before slamming the gate shut behind him, glimpsed at what happened next.


Pouring into the basin, werekyotes came by the grosses, tearing every living thing in sight to shreds. Some Laxians, so petrified with terror, died standing in place. Others tried to fight the massive animals with their trident bladed spears, but the werekyotes were incredibly quick and knew how to dodge and leap for the throat, or roll prey over on its back to devour the soft under belly. Parktaine, trying to run up the near slope, was overcome by a great male werekyote. The beast’s jaws were so powerful, and teeth so sharp, that it took Parktaine’s head off in one terrific snap. The Laxians had no escape; the werekyotes, close to thousand of them by now, some Troopers may have reckoned in the last moments of their lives, attacked from every direction and the carnage continued.


Back inside Cave Base 2, a nauseous Dick related what hadhappened.


“Great, we’s won, so lets kill that asshole,” said Lee Otto.


“You cowards!” challenged Entelliton, still hanging from the stalacite. “You panzies, you damn fairies! You shit-eating pussies! Go on and kill me while I’m hanging like this; you’re probably afraid to give me a fair fight because you don’t have anymore energy balls. None of you could take me, and you knowit.”


“Hmmm, should we give him a fair fight?” said Moe.


“Who’s going to do it?” asked Dick.


“Don’t look at me!” said Lee Otto, backing off.


“Cumata ya pikachunga!” said Hosmosis, stepping forward,knife held in hand.


“He accepts you challenge,” translated Moe, a twinge of sadness coming over him. He was going to lose his comrade; he knew it. “Hosmosis wants hand to hand knife combat.”


“If you try anything funny, Entelliton, you die,” said Dick, holding up an electric prod.


Moe moved forward, cut the entangled Laxian ruler’s bonds free, handed him a knife, and stepped back. The arena for this fight, if arena it could be called, was a rocky cavern that had a precarious ledge on one end and a fairly low ceiling.


“I've got a bad feeling about this,” said Dick as the fightbegan.


The two combatants, Laxian and Lethurian, slowly circled each other, knives held at the ready, measuring what the other was made of. To the spectators, it seemed like this staring contest would have gone on forever--or become homo-erotic--had not Hosmosis made the first lunge. Entelliton, the quicker of the two, dodged the others jab and plunged his knife in the Lethurian’s chest. Hosmosis, blood geysering from his pectorals, let out a grunt, then collapsed to the floor,lifeless.


“That bastard killed Hosmosis!” screamed Moe in rage.


Ripping his knife free from the defeated Lethurian's body, causing a sickening 'squish' noise, Entelliton confronted the rest of the Lethurians. “Whatcha gonna do now, huh?” he taunted, holding his blade. “How about you tracker boy, do you want piece of me? I didn’t think so. Or what about you, big nose, do youwana try me?!”


Lifting himself slowly off the floor behind Entelliton, dark red blood puddling in all directions, with a look in his eyes that defined vengeance, Hosmosis dove forward and sunk his teeth into the Laxian ruler’s ankle. Entelliton let out a shrill scream, grabbed his ankle, hopped around on one foot in agony, slipped on the ledge, and fell into the black abyss.


“It is finished,” said Hosmosis, looking up at Moe. And with that, the wild Lethurian rolled over on his back and died.


Shining a light over the ledge, illuminating the darkness, the rebels saw that Entelliton hadn’t fallen very far after all. After plunging about forty feet down, the Laxian ruler had impaled himself on a stalagmite; the sharp rock, protruding from his chest, had cracked the spine in half and knocked out several ribs and organs along the way. A ghastly and contorted expression framed his face, forever, and ever, and ever.


After the Lethurians had laid Hosmosis in a temporary resting place, they dared to venture outside. It was darker than ever before; none of the nine moons, and absolutely no stars, could be seen through the blackness. Lee Otto felt a strange sensation that brought him back to the SNR days, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was...something in the air.


“Shine the light down into the basin,” said Dick. Moe did, and the mutilated bodies of a 100 Laxians, some killed by Lethurians but most torn to shreds by werekyotes, stared back up at them. There were no wounded; no one, not even cowards who had played dead, had escaped the animals of the desert. Shining the high powered light to the crest of the far slope, the orangeish eyes of a thousand werekyotes reflected back at them. None made a sound, none moved.


“What the hell is them dogs doing?” whispered Lee Otto.


“Don’t worry, they’re under my control,” said a voice, vaguely familiar to the rebels, who were now bereft of cause.


Coming down the far slope, to the Lethurians astonishment, was D6R9. Not the Crapadroid, but the former person himself. He stopped at the floor of the basin, seemingly not wanting to walk through the massacred Laxians.


“It’s a ghost!” said Lee Otto. “I can see right throughhim.”


“Yes, he is oddly transparent,” agreed Moe.


“No, what you’re seeing is a holographic image,” said D6R9. “If you look behind me, you’ll see my metal body. This allows me to talk to you in your own language.”


“Where’ve you been?” said Dick. “What’s with the dogs?”


“They are my pets, and friends,” answered D6R9. “If not for their dogged persistence tonight, the Laxians would surely have been the victors. I have come to tell you that A11Scrub betrayed the Lethurians, but he repented and is now paying the price, so don’t hold it against him.”


“If I ever get my hands on that Crapadroid...” grumbled LeeOtto.


“Dill, Hadrian, Jerome, and Von Gross all died honorable deaths,” continued D6R9. “Find their bodies, make a shrine of their skulls and relics of their weapons, and never forgetthem.”


“We won’t,” said Dick.


“What about you, aren’t you coming with us?” asked Moe.


“No, I’ve found my place, and it’s with the werekyotes,” said D6R9. “You can’t begin to imagine the amazing things that happen in those dens...but that’s none of your business!”


“O-o-okay,” said Lee Otto, taking a step back.


“Don’t worry, this isn’t the last you’ve seen of me; so good bye, for now,” said D6R9. And with that, the bright holographic image disappeared, leaving only the rusty Crapadroid. “Beep beep ‘em beep beep yeah! Zschhhhhhhhh....” it said.


After the werekyotes had gone off in every direction--howling wildly--and D6R9 had rolled off into the unusually dark night, the Lethurians headed inside. As Lee Otto the rear guard was about the close the gates, he later could have sworn that he felt a drop of moisture fall out of the sky and onto his head.


The next morning, when the Lethurians came awake and opened the front door to Cave Base 2, all were awestruck to tears. It had rained hard all night, thoroughly saturating the barren landscape. Flowers, shrubs, plants that offered food, and many other vegetation wonders covered the desert as far as the eye could see. The basin at the bottom of the two slopes, the one where so many Laxians had fallen, had become a crystal clear pool with exotic plants growing from the corpses. And to top off the whole experience of precipitation, at the rising of the second sun, the clouds parted, the mist rose, and a magnificent rainbow stretched from one end of the planet to the other.


“We should make that our new flag!” said Bull.


“Maybe not,” said Dick. “What should we do to celebrate?”


“I’ve got it,” said Lee Otto. “Lets hop on that there glider--I know a great place where we can pick up some real easychicks!”