One might say that getting shot point blank in the stomach is a death sentence, but one might say a lot of things. For example, one may suggest that Vander Extemorst should have died instantly when this event occurred to him, but they would have been wrong. You see, the businessman was made of sterner stuff than most, being an Octladolk had its advantages. Instead of his insides being turned into chowder in the instant the trigger was pulled, the wound took much longer to take effect. It was a morbid trait to have, but the ability to die slowly rather than quickly was widely accepted amongst Octladolks. They called it the ‘Death Period,’ and typically when it occurred it was normally spent giving quick fair-wells to loved ones and friends, or hastily making arrangements for a funeral. One might say that Vander should have used this time to make amends, but clearly one wasn’t there that day. Come to think of it, who is this ‘one’ anyway, and why are they so opinionated?
Looking down, Vander stared at the blistering wound making its way slowly inside him, and he could barely believe it. Although he was looking right at it, he couldn’t accept that this was how he died. He remembered vaguely that the machine he was carrying had been the one that shot him, but that all seemed distant now. He tossed the droid away, sending it carelessly tumbling into the crowd.
The world went quiet, or maybe the ringing in his ears simply drowned out all the sound. His vision bobbed in and out, only having the clarity to see those ignorant outsiders. All of this was happening because of them, wasn’t it? If they hadn’t shown their strange, alien faces here, things would have been different. He couldn’t understand it, what did they have that he didn’t? Why were they the ones still standing while he was the one taking the fall?
It was because they were conspirers, he reasoned. That had to be it. No, it couldn’t have been his fault that someone had been given the nerve to end him. All these scrapers were just jealous of him, and his position, that’s why they hated him, surely that had to be it.
Vander never did pay any attention in his classes, but he did remember one thing that his father had taught him- never go down unless you take the other person with you.
Stumbling forward, his arm expanded into the shape of a mallet, and he used the last of his strength to wind up for an attack. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that he didn’t have the time to get all of them, he would simply have to decide who to go for. The idiot stood behind the green one, blocked by her defensive stance. The one in the coat was isolated near the bar, it would have been a clear shot, but that particular outsider never brought him much ire. No, there was only one he could think would be suitable for this occasion- the liar that had brought his world tumbling down around him. That would be the only fitting ending.
The boy in the tie saw what was coming, and he knew that he needed to move. But the fire that had fueled his performance, his last measly drops of adrenaline, had been depleted, and his body failed to act. All he could do was watch as the strike lashed out at his neck, going for a fatal blow…
But he watched as Vander missed.
It was almost tragic seeing the attack miss by only the smallest of margins, but despite it not hitting its desired target, it did, however, meet an unexpected one. The sound of cracking metal and breaking glass pierced through the deafness in Vander’s ears, but by this time his sight had already gone. He wondered what it was that he had just destroyed, though that was the last of his worries now.
Something cold was pressed to his cheek, something hard and dirty. If he could still move his body, he would have wiped his face off immediately, but that wasn’t in his cards. It’s the floor, he realized, he was laying on the floor. It was filthy, scrummy, and clearly hadn’t been well maintained. This was no place for an Extemorst, he thought. He couldn’t be dying here, could he?
But soon, he did.
The heart behind Alex’s ribs seemed to be trying to escape its confinement. He had felt the air breeze across his face during the swing, and his body was still tense from bracing himself. Remembering to breathe, he took in a big gulp as Sophia ran up to him, her face full of worry.
“Are you okay?” She said, panicked as she checked him for wounds.
He nodded his head, “I’m fine, I think…”
Timothy hurriedly ran to his friend, but after seeing that he was alright, his attention turned to the floor. There were two bodies, that of the recently expired Vander Extemorst, and that of the, hopefully, still alive WaldAcker.
The helmeted man was laying on his side, being the unfortunate victim of the stray blow. He wasn’t moving, although his chest was going up and down, which indicated that at least his lungs were functioning. His helmet was damaged, and pieces of it now lay scattered to his side in dangerous positions.
Not minding the hazards, the boy knelt down beside him, seeing if there was anything he could do to help- it was only then that he saw the face.
The body was positioned in a way that hid the sight from the rest of the cantina so that only Timothy now had a clear view of him. The boy knew that it was impolite to draw attention to someone’s features, but he still couldn’t help but gasp. Behind the cracked glass of WaldAcker’s helmet, barely lit by the orange light of the cantina, was the clear and distinctive image of a human being.
Suddenly, a hand stretched out and grabbed Timothy by the arm. WaldAcker’s eyes shot open, seeing that the glass that he had become so accustomed to looking through was now gone- and if that was gone, then people could see in. It was clear that he wanted to say something, but his mouth only moved silently with agitation.
Timothy hadn’t expected him to be so… young. All this time, he had assumed that the strange man was- well- an adult. From the looks of it, WaldAcker was nearly the same age that he was, although a head full of silver hair fought back against that conclusion.
“What is it?” He asked, seeing the fear in the boy’s eyes. “What do you need?”
Detaching his grip on Timothy’s arm, WaldAcker placed both hands over the open hole in his helmet.
“Ah!” Standing up, he turned to one of his friends. “Can I have your coat, please?”
Confused, but too alarmed to ask, Neil tossed it over.
Acting quickly, Timothy tossed the cloth over WaldAcker’s head, hiding him from view. “There, they can’t see you now.”
WaldAcker sat up, feeling the barrier around his face. “Did they see me?” He asked, his voice quivering. “Do they know?”
Timothy shook his head, “no, only me.”
There was a silent pause as the boy stood to his feet, Neil’s coat draping over his shoulders. “Do you know who I am?” Came a cautious question.
“I’m afraid I have no idea,” Timothy answered honestly. “Should I?”
“That would depend on who you ask.” Behind the cloth, there was movement as he reached into a pocket. “Why did you help me?”
Timothy was confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”
The fabric of the coat strangely started to float upward, as if something else had been placed beneath it. It moved rhythmically like it was breathing. “Oh, you’re truly something different, Timothy. Did you know that?” WaldAcker laughed, but then his voice went low. “I wasn’t expecting him to hit me, though I don’t think he was either. I should have been more cautious, slip-ups like that…”
“Are you hurt?”
“Maybe a little.” He admitted. “But I’m sure I’ll deal with it.” The figure moved forward, the place where the head would be leaned in closer. “I’m sorry, but I think that it’s time I left. It was very nice to meet you, Timothy. I don’t think that I’ve ever seen anyone quite like you before, and I’ve been around a bit.” The other form started turning and shifting, sending the tattered coat into strange positions. “But I won’t say goodbye, because I have a feeling that we might meet again… someday.”
Timothy turned around and gestured to his friends. “If you need a ride, I’m sure that we can take you.”
But when he turned back, WaldAcker had vanished.
On the floor, the coat had fallen under the weight of nothing, it was as though no one had ever been there at all. Neil approached it timidly, placing careful footsteps around it like it was some sort of landmine waiting to go off. He decided that he’d better just go for it and snatched the thing right up with one quick motion. Naturally, nothing happened, which was to the boy's great relief.
“A teleporter?” Alex questioned, seeing it as the only reasonable solution.
“Maybe, but we don’t have time to worry about that right now!” Sophia’s attention was turned away from what had happened, the crowd being the dominant issue. “Timbo, your charity work is great and all, but we have to go, now!”
Almost to prove her point, someone made a lunge at him. Jenny acted quickly, firing off a round into the ceiling as a warning shot- unless of course, you were one of the screens up there, in which case it was a fatal wound. The creature jumped back, two rows of teeth snarling from a giant chest cavity.
It was clear that the rules were off the table now, no one was going to let the prospect of 36 million credits slip them by just because some made-up law told them not to. Only two things were keeping the group alive, Jenny’s gun and the fear of making the first move. It was very possible that they all could have been riddled with blaster fire, but thankfully the crowd had the sense to not risk harming the chip in the chaos.
“Stick close to me,” said the pirate captain, waving them over. “Oy, you lot! Don’t try anything, cuz’ that shot is your last warnin!’’”
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The group piled behind her, closely followed by Gleg, Bleg, and Qleg. She pushed forward, trying to part the waves of people blocking their path to the door, but couldn’t find any leverage. “Move!” She shouted, but no one listened.
There was the sound of something unsticking as a creature dropped down from the ceiling. It landed on all fives on Timothy's shoulders, hundreds of tiny arms reaching down past his neck, straining for the credit chip in his hand. Suddenly a blast of energy erupted from Jenny’s weapon- she hadn’t been lying about the warning shot.
“No!” Timothy shouted as the thing flew from his shoulders, landing in a heap and curling up like a dead spider. “You killed them!”
“Kid, he would’ve killed you in a heartbeat!” Jenny snapped. “Keep moving!”
They tried to push forward, but it was like a wall had been erected to stop their paths. “Everyone, please just let us go!” Timothy pleaded. “We don’t want to hurt…”
No one saw where it came from, but a mug abruptly flew into the boy’s face, shattering against his lip. He cried out in alarm, a bit of blood trickling down from his mouth.
“If you don’t move, I’m gonna open fire!” Jenny stood her ground, but so did the crowd.
“Tim, are you alright?” Neil asked, keeping close to the group.
His friend shook his head. “No, this is all awful! I don’t understand why they’re doing this!”
Alex had reached the point where his vision was getting blurry, and he was struggling to remember how to talk. But he heard a question, and he felt the need to answer it. “They just want the money, Tim!”
“But they’ll get hurt!” The boy protested, sopping up a bit of blood with his finger. “Please, Jenny, don’t kill them!”
The pirate was getting tired of her new employer’s useless pleas- she wasn’t particularly inclined to kill the lot either, but fire is fought with fire. Another blast seared through a Cclaxion that was making a leap for it, and its giant balloon-like head deflated in an instant.
“Stop!” The boy yelled, unsure whether it was directed at Jenny or the crowd.
Sophia gritted her teeth, “there’s no other way!”
Timothy’s eyes darted, his chest raising in the rhythm of his racing heart. “I’m sorry, but you’re wrong!” Although his lip was bleeding, he raised his head once again, addressing everyone in the room. “I can’t understand why any of you would risk your lives for something like this! It’s not worth it, is it? How can this little chip be worth more than any of our lives?”
He looked down at the glowing square in his hands, his brows furrowing. “I didn’t even want it in the first place, I only got it by accident! So, I suppose if you want it so badly, you can all have it! Just please, don’t hurt yourselves for it!”
With a deep breath, Timothy tossed the chip into the air. As it flew, it glistened in the orange light, reflecting back all the faces staring below. It only took a second for it to land, but by that time the entire crowd had already begun climbing over each other, just trying desperately to nab it.
Jenny saw her path cleared, and she didn’t waste time leading the group out of the doors. There wasn’t time to look back to see what was happening, but the sound of fighting was louder than a speaker. Timothy tried to cover his ears, but the noise leaked through, making it a wasted effort.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief, “we made it.”
“Yeah, but for how long?” Neil was already eyeing the door, waiting for someone to rush out. “They’re going to follow us, you know?”
“Then let’s not waste any time,” Jenny commanded. “Crew, you stay here and watch our backs, make sure ya signal me if you see someone followin’ us.”
Her three men nodded, taking out their weapons and fanning out.
“Do you remember where my ship is?” She asked, already moving.
Sophia nodded, “kinda.”
“Guys?” They heard Alex say from behind them.
Timothy turned back, “yes? Oh! Alex… what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know...” He said, teetering in his place. “But is it just me, or did everything just get a lot darker?”
They all watched as Alex fell to the ground, completely unconscious.
…
The glowing credit chip lay on the floor, but it was not alone. A feathery hand reached out to grab it, but as a small fish is eaten by a bigger fish, that hand was grabbed and pulled away.
Something struck the chip, sending it skittering across the floor like a hockey puck. It struck a pair of boots, bouncing off and flying in a new direction. With a soft ‘clink,’ it came to rest beneath a booth and was hidden in its shadows.
In a second, the booth was ripped apart, the table going flying off to the side. The cushions of the surprisingly comfortable seats were torn into hundreds of fluffy remnants that started to dance along the air.
An antlered thing was the first to find it, but they quickly found themselves pulled back by those same antlers and hurled back violently.
A woman whose fingers extended far beyond what was considered normal had a clear advantage, snagging the thing between the several folds of her bones. Her success was short-lived, and so was she as a red sparkling blast of energy tore right through her.
Guns were back on the menu now, and with that notice being made clear, everyone drew their weapons.
The buckling woman was caught by someone that seemed to be made completely out of water, with flowing arms and legs that splashed on impact. They didn’t do this to be kind, of course, immediately tossing the body aside when their watery hands splashed across the chip.
The watery figure suddenly lurched, its back being stuck by something. Quickly, they stiffened as still as a statue when their body was frozen into pure ice by a beam of blue light. The statue wasn’t there for long as the crowd quickly barreled through it, shattering them into a million pieces.
The credit ship nearly struck the ground, but it was saved at the last minute when something long and slippery reached out from the back of the room and caught it. The owner of this giant, extending tongue attempted to pull it back, but someone with a knife saw an opportunity and sliced the slobbering thing in half.
With no one left to carry it, the credit chip bounced across the ground, dodging in and out of feet and talons, almost like it was trying to.
A Cclaxion emitted a small that would remind someone of sulfur and raised a giant hammer to swing. With one fell swoop, a good chunk of the crowd was sent flying, crashing into tables and landing with the sound of cracking bones. They reached down, only to find their hand nailed into their own shoe by someone with a railgun.
The man with the morbid, but effective weapon, seemed to be made of a thousand interconnected roots and leaves. But no one was admiring the fascinating elements of their anatomy, instead, they were pulling out a lighter and setting them ablaze in an instant.
The carnage raged on with the bodies piling on top of each other. The credit chip had been since long lost in the debris, and now it appeared that this fight was simply one of survival. After all, no one would be allowed to leave if they had it, would they? This meant that everyone that opposed them had to die, that was the only way anyone could have it. It was ironic, they had all shown up to witness a bloodbath, but now they had become it.
Over behind the bar, safely snugged behind cover, sat three figures. Pollum Mock had a bottle of a delicious-looking red liquid, and he was currently occupied by pouring it into the extended glass of Sally Silver. She pulled back the drink with a smile, placing it up to her lips and taking a big sip- it tasted as good as it looked.
“Sure you don’t want any?” The bartender joked to the third person beside him.
“I am unable to consume liquid,” ARI-48 replied. “B-But I am willing to give it a try!”
Pollum handed over a glass and the robot put it up to where a mouth would traditionally be. Realizing the futility of its actions, ARI elected to pour the drink over themself, just for the sake of it.
Sally and Pollum laughed, a stray bullet flying and striking a bottle on the shelf above them. “Damn, where’s Mr. Ham when ya need him?” The bartender remarked.
Tuning out the violence, Sally sighed. “I forgot how good Clamboran Wine tasted… I could get used to this.”
“It will run out that million cred of yours quick, let me tell you.” Pollum swirled the wine around in his cup, and for a brief moment sparkling yellow colors appeared. “Though right now it’s on the house!”
Reaching into her pocket, Sally felt the credit chip the boy had given her and shook her head. “Do you think it’s real?”
“All the funds were pulled directly through the Extemorst Lottery system,” ARI replied. “So, it’s all real, Fortune-Seeker!”
“Darling, you killed your boss, you don’t have to use his lottery jargon anymore.” She tapped on the machine's head. “Congrats on that, by the way. Now that your owner is gone, what are you going to do now?”
ARI considered for a moment. “I am unsure, I was not programmed to find a purpose.”
Sally shrugged, “you can hang around me for a while, I’m getting out of this dump soon, you can join me if you feel like it.”
“I would like that.” The droid declared.
“What about you, Pollum, want to get out of this hellhole?” The lady asked with a wave to the stars.
“Nah, are you kiddin’? Business is the best it’s been in years!” He exclaimed, spilling a bit of wine over himself. “I’m set too, thanks to that outsider! Can ya believe those people? They must be insane, giving away credit like that?”
“Or maybe they’re just fools?” Sally said, not meaning to be insulting. “Either way, anyone who gives me a million cred is a friend in my book!”
“A toast, to the outsiders!”
The three all raised their glasses and cheered, “to the outsiders!”
Suddenly, they noticed that the room was a hell of a lot quieter now.
The battle was over now, and the cantina bore little resemblance to what it had been before. The booths were now completely destroyed, littering the place with splintery barbs. The screens on the ceiling were all broken, except for one lucky survivor in the corner, but that wasn’t exactly a blessing.
Two men stood above the bloodbath, which appeared to be surprising to both of them. Somehow, through some holy miracle of fate, John-John still found himself alive. Across from him was yet another Cclaxion, and they recognized each other instantly.
“Primm.” John-John said, addressing his opponent.
Cclaxions were really bad with names, but apparently, the smell for John-John was that of an old shoe.
“We’re the last ones left, who would have figured?” He looked around, completely desensitized to the bodies. “How’d we manage that?”
Primm shrugged.
It caught his eye just then- the glowing chip just barely peeking out below a destroyed seat cushion. He stooped to pick it up and was smart enough to keep his eyes on Primm while he did so. It felt like victory in his hand, and his body began to shift and jitter with excitement.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking…” John-John said, holding out his hand as the two started to circle each other. “But that first chip he gave me, that had to have been a fake! This, this is the real deal!”
The smell of melting plastic filled the room as Primm dusted off his armor.
“Now, I ain’t got a clue what you’re sayin’, but look, mate. Let’s just walk away, ay? You can turn and go, I won’t fight ya, I swear! We can both live through this…”
There was no chance to respond as the room suddenly went dimmer, and they both instantly knew what was coming. They backed away quickly from the door, a mutual understanding between them.
But nothing entered the cantina because the Janitor was nothing at all. An emptiness approached the center of the floor, gliding across the space like an eraser over a blackboard. The vastness of the void stopped, and if it was something that had a mind, one might say it was surveying the surroundings- but we all know how wrong ‘one’ often is.
The blankness spread across the walls and up the ceiling, like puzzle pieces falling off a table. The bodies on the ground were suddenly not there anymore, like they had simply... stopped. The only sign now of a battle was the tarnished remains of the furniture, but maybe, in the presence of the Janitor, it was easy to think that they had always been like that.
And, as quickly as it came, it left.
John-John let out a sigh, content with following Rule 3 for the time being. After all, he had more exciting prospects to consider. The credit chip wasn’t the same color it used to be, and there was blood and gunk all over it. Using his elbow, he wiped it clean, lost in admiration for it. Maybe he could completely pay off his debt to the Cutters now? That would be the reasonable thing to do. But that could wait, right? With this amount of cred, he could do anything he wanted. The thought of what happened to Corpus in his same position never crossed his mind, though maybe it should have.
Lost in his thoughts he neglected to notice as Primm approached him slowly from behind. The balloon-headed alien was careless, however, and stepped on a bit of broken glass, creating a noise. Figuring out what was happening, John-John spun around at full force, preparing to defend himself.
Crack!
The two men could only stare blankly at one another as what happened sunk in. On the shoulder-spike of Primm’s armor, the same one that had an unhealthy habit of accidental strangulation, the credit chip was now stuck- pierced straight through its center.
Its glowing light flickered for a moment, then faded, broken beyond repair.