“UGH… WHAT A FESTERING RAXX-HOLE,” Lord-Prince Axius Vexas snarled after landing in the Astro-Port of planet Skilia’s Capital City; SMUGGLER’S HAVEN.
Having traveled all aboard his elder brother Ventrix’s personal Rylian-Class U-5B Astro-Shuttle, Axius let out a sigh of distaste before walking down its extended Boarding Ramp.
Accompanying the Vexan Lord-Prince closely from behind was a six-trooper unit of Vexan Wartroopers… Who were all ARMED TO THE FILED-TEETH with Pulsar Arm Cannons, Auto-Rifles, and Sabers.
“Thuh-- That’s a Vexan,” one of the many denizens of the grandly populated Astro-Port called out as a mob of bystanders and onlookers started to form around the Lord-Prince, his Squad, and the Astro-Shuttle.
The constant whispers, gasps, and BLATANT STARES of the all the multi-species bystanders and onlookers made Axius scowl as he and his wartrooper unit continued on with their stride.
“Mind your words, kroone,” another bystander snapped at the first. “That’s one of the BROTHERS VEXAS!”
Upon hearing these fear-induced comments, Axius sighed again as he threw up his cloak’s hood and drew it over his slimy, pale green-skinned face.
“LORD-PRINCE,” one of the hunchbacked Wartroopers hissed through the Voice Modulator of his horned Battle Helmet, causing Axius to stop in his tracks.
“WHAT, RUNGOK?” Lord-Prince Axius asked the Wartrooper who had just spoken out to him.
“What be our mission here again, Your Majesty?”
“MY MISSION is to retrieve the ‘Last Kadorian Changeling’ from the Nyte. As for you and the others, Rungok, your mission is to stay here and guard the ship.”
“Guard the ship?” asked another wartrooper, whose name was ‘Vaaros’, as he stepped up alongside Rungok. “But, Lord-Prince… Lord-Emperor Vexas ordered us to--”
“THE LORD-EMPEROR IS NOT HERE… IS HE???” Axius asked sternly.
“No, my Lord. He is not,” Vaaros awkwardly replied.
“Then the only person’s orders you MUST follow whilst we are here on this WRETCHED STRETCH OF ROCK AND SOIL… IS MINE,” Lord-Axius stated sternly. “Is that understood???”
“Yes… Your Majesty,” Vaaros fearfully fumbled as Rungok and the others followed in suit.
“Grand… NOW GUARD THE THRACKING SHUTTLE,” Lord-Prince Axius firmly ordered as he turned his back on the wartrooper unit in search of the nearest ‘Passenger Transport Astro-Vessel Hub’ that he could use to call for transport to the Nyte’s Personal Dwelling; THE NYTE CLUB.
“And troopers,” Axius added before taking off on his own. “Best keep the Shuttle well-guarded... For my brother would be VERY displeased if anything were to happen to it.”
The Wartroopers all nodded and quickly formed a defensive perimeter around the Astro-Shuttle, knocking several bystanders and other denizens of the Astro-Port out of the way… And DOWN ON THE GROUND.
Whilst his Wartrooper Security Detail stood watch over his elder brother’s shuttle with ZILITIUM HARDENED FISTS, Axius just shook head and smirked as he went on with his stride once more.
_
“ARE YOU TRYING TO CHEAT ME, ZAN???” the Nyte asked a Snorixan ‘Tox-Addict’ SKOGGER named ‘Zan Fuu’ as he sat around an impenaglass table in a corner both in the V.I.P. Section of his nightclub, which was located within his personal fortress; THE NYTE TOWER.
“Nuh-No, Lord Nyte,” Zan Fuu fearfully stammered as the infamous ‘Warlord of Skilia’ sat between multiple Pleasure Mistresses and Pleasure Masters that worked at his dark tower of ultimate sin and debauchery. “Of course not! I would NEVER cheat you!”
“Tis not wise to ‘lie’ to me, Zan,” the Nyte stated sternly through the voice modulator of his dark purple, golden spike-riddled and trimmed battle helmet, which had a golden , ‘Y’-shaped protective visor covering his face (which ‘he’ NEVER allowed anyone to see as his ‘true identity’ had been a grand mystery across the galactic starways for countless cycles).
“I’m not lying, Lord Nyte… I’M NOT!”
“You know what I do to liars... AND CHEATERS, don’t you???”
Then, in the blink of an eye, the Warlord of Skilia drew out his personal sidearm; a golden OSE8-OBLIVIATOR Pulsar Auto-Revolver, which fired a total of EIGHT Pulsar Energy Shots per energy clip.
“I SEND THEM TO THE OUTER-WORLD,” the Nyte stated truthfully as he aimed his laser sighted Auto-Revolver directly between Zan’s glowing, bright pink and bulbous eyes.
The merciless Bounty Hunter then let out a bout of sinister laughter as his Pleasure Mistresses and Masters all joined in with him.
“Heh… Heh, heh, heh… Funny… Nyte,” Zan Fuu nervously chuckled after the Warlord put his OBLIVIATOR back in its side holster. “Heh, heh, heh… You… You almost-- GURGH!”
SUDDENLY, grabbing the Snorixan Tox-Addict by the neck with his one, three-fingered ‘rock hand’ was ‘CRUNDOK’, who was one of the Nyte’s two Ogrollan Bodyguards, who both stood watch over him.
“That’s ‘LORD NYTE’ to you… RAXX-EATER,” CRUNDOK gritted through his stone-teeth as the alabaster white ‘stone-skinned’ Ogrollan lifted Zan Fuu up to his eye level and began to crush his surprisingly squishy neck.
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“Heh, heh… Heh… Alright, CRUN. Put’em down,” the Nyte ordered at the end of his laughing spell as his Ogrollan Bodyguard continued to choke the life-force out of Zan Fuu.
Realizing that his Bodyguard wasn’t following his orders, the Nyte blared, “PUT HIM DOWN!!!”
PEW! PEW!
“ARGH! THRACK!!!” CRUNDOK cursed after Nyte had blasted his right hand away from his wrist with two energy shots from his OBLIVIATOR.
“YOU SHOULD’VE LISTENED TO ME, CRUNDOK,” the vicious Warlord hissed as Zan Fuu laid on the ground at the stoney feet of the towering seven-foot, eight-inch-tall Ogrollan.
CRUNDOK then gritted his stone-teeth and popped his thick neck as he mentally forced another hand to form from the ‘nub’ where his original right hand once resided.
“You’re lucky your race can regenerate… OR ELSE YOU’D BE HAVING ONE BAD THRACKIN’ NIGHT-CYCLE,” the Nyte continued as CRUNDOK growled at him whilst nursing his newly formed right, ‘rock-hand’.
“Apologize… NOW,” the Nyte firmly commanded as CRUNDOK continued to scowl at him.
“Grandest apologies… Master,” CRUNDOK reluctantly replied, bringing a smile to Nyte’s face beneath his battle helmet.
Looking downwards now, the Nyte watched as Zan Fuu tossed away CRUNDOK’s severed right hand from around his neck, which immediately broke down into tiny bits of gravel.
“Zan… GET THE THRACK UP,” the Bounty Hunting Warlord barked at the Snorixan Tox-Addict, who quickly scurried back up to his feet. “Now Zan, do you NOT remember our deal with one another? If not… THEN ALLOW ME TO FRESH YOUR TOX-ADDLED MIND; Our deal was that I was to supply you with all the thrackin’ Tox that you can pump into your completely THRACKED OUT system and, in exchange for my ‘highly-coveted’ services, you would pay me a BI-WEEKLY-CYCLE sum of FOUR HUNDRED CURRENS.”
“Fuh-Four hundred currens,” Zan Fuu stammered in shock. “But… But Lord Nyte… Our deal was for TWO HUNDRED currens every other week-cycle… NOT FOUR HUNDRED.”
“Oh, you’re correct in your claim, Zan… BUT since you have declined to pay me your LAST THREE payments you have given me no other choice but to DOUBLE the payment.”
“Duh-Double???”
“Sutter… I DID NOT, my lowly friend.”
Leaning back in his booth now whilst his whores injected themselves with Tox Sticks and drank copious amounts of Skilian Ale, the Nyte continued, “So, Zan, since you have BLATANTLY REFUSED to pay for your rather COSTLY addiction your debt to me is now for TWELVE HUNDRED CURRENS in total.”
“TWELVE HUNDRED?!?!” the Snorixan Tox-Addict erupted in grand shock. “I can’t pay that!”
“Oh, I am WELL AWARE of that, Zan… WHICH IS WHY I SHALL GET THE CURRENS OUT OF YOU BY OTHER MEANS.”
“Huh-Huh-How?”
“IN THE PITS.”
Zan Fuu immediately felt his life-force ‘die’ within himself as the Nyte began to sinisterly snicker again.
Dropping down his knees, the rag-clothed Zan Fuu pleaded, “Please, Lord Nyte… PLEASE!!! I BEG OF YOU! Please do not send me to the War Pits! I CAN’T SURVIVE THE PITS!!! Grant me mercy, my Lord! MERCY!!!”
“Mercy,” the Nyte scoffed. “Tis rather bold of you to ask for mercy, Zan, when you knew RIGHT FROM THE THRACKING BEGINNING what would happen if you missed even ONE of your payments… AND YET YOU HAVE MISSED THREE.”
Leaning back once more, the Warlord of Skilia continued, “But alas… TIS DONE AND FINAL. I sentence you to fight in the Skilian War Pits until you pay back what is owed to me. CRUNDOK, BAROKO… REMOVE THIS RAXX-SACK FROM MY SIGHT!”
“NO! WAIT! PLEASE!!! DON’T DO THIS, LORD NYTE! DON’T--” Zan Fuu cried out before the Warlord’s other Ogrollan Bodyguard, BAROKO, picked him up by the back of his raggy shirt and pulled him away kicking and screaming whilst CRUNDOK skulked from behind, angrily, whilst flexing the rock-fingers to his newly formed hand.
After his bodyguards had taken Zan Fuu out of the V.I.P. Section, the Nyte leaned back again as he basked in the ambiance and debauchery of Club Level Fifty (which was one of the Ninety-Nine ‘Dance Club’ floors of the Nyte Tower).
“Grandest greetings, my Lord,” Lady Belene, the Vosmaran Handmaiden/Concubine (also known as a ‘Nytehand’) of the Nyte, said after approaching her master/lover in the V.I.P. Section of Club Level Fifty.
“BELENE! MY LOVE! HOW ART THOU?!” the Nyte called out happily as the arctic blue-skinned, cream white eyed, and snow white-haired Nytehand stood before him adorned in a dark-purple dress with golden trim.
“I am well, my Lord,” Lady Belene replied with a slight grin and head nod.
“What brings you to me, love? Do you wish to continue ‘the games’ we were playing up in my Keep a few hour-cycles ago? Heh, heh, heh…”
“I would grandly, my Lord. YOU KNOW THIS WELL… But a ‘visitor’ has come to meet with you.”
“A visitor? What ‘visitor’? I have no appointments for the rest of the night-cycle… Lest I have forgotten something?”
“No, my lord. You are correct. This visitor has come to your ‘grand world and kingdom’ on his own behalf.”
“Own behalf, eh? I see. Well, I haven’t the time to meet with any ‘unannounced visitors’, Belene. Tell them to ‘thrack off’ will you? I am nearing the start of another game. Heh, heh, heh…”
As the Nyte’s Pleasure Mistresses and Masters began to fawn over his heavily armored frame, Lady Belene stated, “Grandest apologies, my Lord, but I am not comfortable with denying this visitor… FOR HE BE A VEXAN.”
“A Vexan?” the Nyte repeated in confusion as he looked back up at his Concubine.
“Yes, my Lord. Tis one of the ‘Brothers Vexas’. The Vexan Lord-Prince AXIUS VEXAS.”
“Axius Vexas?” the Nyte repeated in a voice of grand concern as he pulled his attention from his whores and set it FULLY upon Lady Belene. “Are you certain of this???”
“Yes, my Lord,” Lady Belene nodded. “He has come to speak with you about a ‘grand business opportunity’.”
After a brief moment of silence, the Nyte instructed, “Send him to my Keep. I shall meet with him shortly.”
“As you command, my Lord,” Lady Belene nodded as she went to turn away from the Nyte.
“BELENE…”
“Yes, my Lord?”
“Have a squad of Crewmen sent to my Keep as well… AND HAVE THEIR WEAPONS SET TO ‘LIVE-FIRE’ MODE.”

