Joseph Hagen

SAINT LOUIS

Copyright © 2015 by Joseph Hagen.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or

in part in any form. No part of this book may be reproduced in any

form without written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places,

events and incidents are either the products of the author’s

imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely

coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-939437-41-9

Cover Illustration by Patrick Dorsey

Copyright © 2015 by Legendary Planet, LLC

Book design by Finscéal Welt

Friendly Neighborhood Publishing is an imprint of

Legendary Planet, LLC

PO Box 440081

Saint Louis, Missouri 63144-0081

LegendaryPlanet.com

To my family who have encouraged and allowed

me the time to follow this new road.

Thank you Anne, Stephen and Maggie.

I love you all dearly.

In a dimension very close to our own exist worlds and beings

which, while totally foreign, to us, would also be oddly familiar.

The people, places, and objects that form and fill that dimension

have been changed from inanimate to animate. Changed from

our fiction to their reality.

Heroes and villains,

emperors and minions,

all are locked in fierce battles.

Beings throughout that universe

struggle for a great cause.

A cause for which both sides risk everything.

A cause which would be dear to us as well…

CHOCOLATE WARS

Episode I:

SWEET DESTINY

Champions of all oppressed by the powerful and evil Emperor

Sakarin and his dreadful Knights of the Empire, the Chedi Order

were the ultimate warriors of the Milky Way Galaxy. Their

prowess was achieved through intense training and consumption of

the powerful, sweet, chocolate-rich Fudge.

The Fudge was empowered by natural properties within the

chocolate—its primary ingredient—which strengthened and

heightened their varied abilities. Additional ingredients and

methods of preparation further enhanced the properties of the

Fudge and enabled the Chedi to perform both mentally and

physically at superhuman levels.

Led by the Emperor’s most powerful and evil knight, Diet

Vanillla, the Knights of the Empire, were strengthened by their

own powerful but bitter variety of the Fudge. For years, the two

sides had battled. The Chedi had enjoyed many victories, but the

Empire, despite those losses, continued to grow large and

powerful.

Led by M and M, the wise masters of the Chedi Order, the

valiant fighters of the planet Choctooine struck forth from the

Wonkka system alongside the fighters of the Wonkka Alliance, a

collection of worlds whose people were also sworn enemies of the

Empire.

Their mission: to win truth, justice, and chocolate for all…

***

It was a dark and dismal night on a near-dead world far, far

away.

A small but full moon shone dimly in a cloudless sky almost

void of stars. A frigid wind wailed across a flat and crumbling

landscape. Other than the skeletal remains of a few long-dead and

fossilized trees, the horizon was broken only by a single, jutting

structure. Immense and heavily fortified, the structure’s lower

levels were constructed of massive stones laid side by side and one

upon the other. Fifty meters high, the stone’s masonry pattern was

broken only at its upper levels by two large, seemingly

impenetrable metal doors that sealed access to the interior. The

exterior was windowless, except at its uppermost levels. With no

entrances at ground level, access to the interior was only available

from the air.

From opposite sides of the stone structure’s summit, two

twenty meter landing pads jutted outward. Both were unlit, and on

each sat a collection of space-able vessels. Several were small,

one- or two-man fighters. One was larger, heavily armored and

armed. All but the large ship appeared to be fully powered down

and unmanned.

A narrower portion of the fortress continued upward from that

point for several more levels. This section of the structure had a

flat, metallic surface that dully reflected the minuscule amount of

light the pale moon was providing. Its surface was studded with

numerous balconies, large barred windows, dozens of shield

projectors and blazer ports. Its top level was capped with an

angled, tiled, metal roof and dotted with large skylights. Interior

light shone upwards through several of them. At each of the roof’s

four corners stood tall stone and metal turrets. An external staircase

spiraled up each turret’s outer wall.

The fortress was the home and headquarters of Wardo the Nutt,

one of the Empire’s most powerful, wealthy, and vicious allies.

Once an opponent of the Empire, the Nutt now fought and pirated

for Emperor Sakarin. Allowed to retain much of his booty, Wardo

had improved his situation greatly since betraying the Emperor’s

opposition.

At the peak of one of the fortress’ turrets, a lone figure held a

heavy cloak tight against the frigid wind. Her face hidden by a

breath shield, she was looking into the near-empty heavens above.

Other than the flutter of her cloak in the powerful gusts, the figure

was still and, despite the cold, patient as she watched and waited.

Her back stiffened when a shooting star blazed in the almost

empty sky. The object flared brightly as it streaked through the

planet’s upper atmosphere. Remaining still, she watched its

progression for several seconds. Unconsciously, as her eyes tracked

the object, her hand shifted to the weapon on her hip.

As the flare of the object’s passage extinguished, the guard

turned. Ignoring the external stairway, she entered the turret

through a narrow slit of a portal. A metal door closed the opening

behind her as she walked sideways through an equally narrow

passage.

The corridor opened into a wider space, where she hurried past

control panels for an atomizer cannon and shielding equipment.

Their status screens read, Standing By. Stepping up to the primary

control station, she paused to study the lime-green text on that

status screen:

Security System Status

PASSWORD SECURED

Sensors

Aerial - Functioning normally

Surface -Functioning normally

Visual motion detectors

Aerial - Standing by

Surface - Functioning normally

After a quick nod, her eyes shifted to a screen at the next

station. It read:

Security System Status

All Systems - Functioning normally

With another nod she stepped away. Near the center of the

room’s floor was a metal disk about a meter and a half in diameter.

Stepping onto the disk, she depressed a button on her belt and

instantly dropped into the floor. A moment later another disk lifted

into place, recovering the hole.

***

Above and through the darkness, a small armored ship pulled

into level flight after having dropped into the planet’s upper

atmosphere. The faintest shimmer of gold, forming a bubble

around the ship, was the only hint of the masking equipment

preventing its detection by any scanning device. Visual observation

was the ship’s only weakness in avoiding notice. In the vastness of

space a ship was very small and could, without the benefit of

sensors, easily be missed. Within the comparatively small area

within a planet’s atmosphere however detection was far more

likely.

Duke, one of the ship’s two member crew, checked his control

panel for any sign that they’d been discovered. After several

moments, he was satisfied that they had not.

He signaled the pilot. “Wardo’s transport ship is manned, but

her engines are cool, and her weapon systems are down. All the

fighters are powered down and cold. All’s clear. Let’s go.” The

pilot, Hagjo, nodded and directed the ship into a steep descent.

The two were more than spacefarers. They were Chedi, on a

mission of galactic importance.

As their ship dropped toward the fortress, the two Chedi each

placed a piece of powerful Fudge into their mouths. Both sighed as

its strong, sweet flavor fully awakened their senses, tensing as its

empowering chocolate coursed into their systems. Their eyes

tightened with a rush of energy and clarity of thought.

Smiling, Hagjo engaged the ship’s antigravity field. Bands

along the ship’s lower hull flickered and then brightened to a dim

shade of blue as he shut down the ship’s engines.

Ignoring the fortress’s landing pads, he slowed the ship and set

her down gently on the dark tiled roof. Duke and Hagjo swiftly

exited the ship. The frigid wind whipped their clothing as the

Fudge-infused duo hurried across the angled roofline. Avoiding the

skylights, the pair moved with assurance that their mission was

well planned. Leaping from the roof’s edge onto a large balcony,

they approached a secured door. In seconds, the lock was disabled

and they entered a brightly lit, overly warm atrium.

Looking beyond the bordering foliage they saw that the room

was peopled by a dozen females of as many different races. Among

them was a characteristically tall and thin Licoricean. Her black,

sinewy form was coiled into a tight mound on a large cushion. A

Skittle lay listlessly on a short couch. Both her multi colored scales

and her spirit had been dulled by her captivity. On a wide

overstuffed chair was a Chicklet. Her eyes were closed and her

breath, which whistled as she exhaled, was slow and steady. The

armored female had a bright blue shell that covered her chest and

back. The shell caught the light, and the Chedis’ eyes as they

scanned the group.

Beside the dozing Chicklet was a Hersheyan. Seeing this

female, Duke gasped. Her creamy brown beauty was breathtaking

and unaffected by her somber expression. Despite any fear she may

have felt, she held her head up and didn’t avert her eyes as the

Chedi stepped through the foliage. Her eyes widened when they

found Duke’s face. As he and Hagjo cleared the foliage and

stepped fully into view, the others saw them as well.

Immediately the females began screaming and running toward

the duo. Duke, also a Hersheyan, left Hagjo to calm the other

women as he stepped toward the Hersheyan female, who had not

moved other than to keep her eyes on him. Drawing near, he could

see that she had already recognized him. The relief in her eyes was

plain. But for reasons Duke was unable to determine, she didn’t

speak.

None of the females pleading with Hagjo spoke in common

Galactic, each pleading to him in her home tongue. Unfamiliar

with any of their languages, Hagjo struggled to make himself

understood, uncertain of exactly what was being said to him. It was

clear however that all of the women were distraught.

“Please be quiet,” he whispered as he held a finger across his

lips.

“Gorde calup en lave!” begged a muscular woman with orange

skin and an elephant-like nose. She held Hagjo by his arm. Her

fingers like a vise, her grip was almost painful. But her eyes shone

only with fear. The same fear that lit the eyes of the other women.

The Chedi glanced at each other. Duke grimaced and shrugged.

Hagjo shrugged in return, then turned back at the women. “Nerdz!”

he mumbled before the mass of frightened expressions.

***

The word ”Nerdz” was slang used within the Wonkka system

and beyond. Its use expressed exasperation toward a problem or

event that had gone wrong. Most often, something that had

foolishly gone very wrong.

The Nerdz were once an incredibly intelligent and sensitive

race of beings. On their small world, at the far side of the Wonkka

system, they evolved quickly through their primitive beginnings

into a race capable of great thought, beautiful art, brilliant

science, and deep emotion. The artifacts of their race indicated

that with their technology, single-minded focus, and even-handed

judgment, they could have peacefully and fairly mastered the

universe. Their reign would have been free of strife, and their

guidance surely would have prevented the Empire’s rise to power.

Unfortunately, as the Nerdz advanced technologically, they

invented the computer, and ran afoul of their single-mindedness.

As their computer technology improved, the Nerdz’ entire focus

became centered on the machine. They improved it, expanded its

uses, created data bases, e-mail, chat rooms, programs to allow

the creation and viewing of books and movies, the playing of

games, and numerous other forms of digital entertainment. The

computers improved to be the detriment of all other aspects of the

Nerdz’ way of life, and eventually, their own existence.

In just a few years their civilization began to crumble as the

Nerdz became more and more focused on their computer screens.

Breast pockets suited with pocket protectors were filled with

computer compatible pencils, protractors, and snacks of little or

no nutritional value. The Nerdz only allowed themselves to be

distracted from their small screens to create and assemble solar

panels and wind generators to ensure power for their obsession.

They disregarded their children and families, their jobs,

homes, and cities, and finally even themselves. Eventually there

was no drinking water, no food. Once the slide toward their end

truly began, it took only a few more months for their entire

civilization to expire.

Decades later, Choctooine explorers came to the Nerdz world.

Landing their scout ships, the Choctooinians found crumbling

cities, and the remains of the planet’s inhabitants. Propped before

their burned-out or powerless computers, Nerdz after Nerdz had

let themselves wither and die, rather than move away from their

glowing screens. The entire Nerdz population had become extinct.

Much of their knowledge, art and digital games had survived on

the millions of hard drives which were still intact. The possible

saviors of all the species in the universe had lost their focus on life

and ceased to exist.

***

“Nerdz!” Hagjo repeated as the women’s panic grew. “I’m

sorry,” he tried again to explain. “We thought we would be able to

communicate with someone in your group.” The women paused,

struggling to understand. But in seconds they were panicked again.

Hagjo sighed deeply before holding up his hands and attempting

again to explain that he and Duke were there to help them. With

their eyes wide and breaths rapid, the females formed a tight circle

around him and frowned fearful expressions of confusion.

Watching his fellow Chedi’s struggle, Duke turned back to the

female Hersheyan, certain he could communicate with her.

“You know who I am?” he asked her anxiously.

She nodded immediately and took his hand.

Duke smiled and asked, “Can you explain to them…” he

gestured with his head toward the anxious women, “…that we’ve

come to rescue you?”

The Hersheyan woman embraced Duke suddenly, then just as

suddenly drew back and shook her head. Before the Chedi could

ask why, her lips parted, and a light hissing noise sounded as she

silently mouthed speech.

Duke frowned, recognizing her inability to speak. He grew

angry, assuming that the Nutt was responsible for her disability.

“We will get you away from here,” he assured her.

The woman smiled and tightened her hold on his hand.

“Where’s Wardo?” he then asked.

She turned and pointed toward one of several doors along the

room’s interior wall.

Duke squinted at it. “We must take care of him first…”

Immediately fear bloomed on the woman’s face, and Duke

again was angered at the certainty of her punishments under the

Nutt. Before he could voice an accusation, he heard joyful moans,

and voices full of relief behind him. He turned to see Hagjo

smiling and almost lost in a huddle of hugs from the females—the

large, orange woman actually lifted him into the air. She sat him

down and Hagjo quickly moved away and toward Duke.

“How did you manage that?” Duke asked.

Hagjo indicated the buckle on his belt. “Once they realized we

were Chedi they understood we were here to help.” He smiled and

reholstered his beam blade.

Nodding, Duke turned and looked into the female Hersheyan’s

eyes. She smiled and he squeezed her hand. “We’ll be back!” he

promised. After another squeeze, he released her hand, and turned

to Hagjo. “This way!”

Together they raced toward the door the female Hersheyan had

indicated. Her gaze followed them, as they left.

Once at the door, Duke and Hagjo made a swift assessment of

its mechanism and automated control panel. At Duke’s whispered

instruction, Hagjo stood ready on the other side of the doorway and

listened for any sign of activity behind the door.

Duke signaled he was ready and reached to activate the door.

Both Chedi grabbed for their weapons as the door suddenly opened

before Duke’s hand reached the control.

The Chedi smelled the guard before they saw him. Eyes down,

the Limburgen paused in the doorway. Brawny but only one meter

tall, with skin splotched in white, blue and green, the guard entered

carrying a large blazer.

A collective and fearful moan rose from the females behind the

Chedi. Duke immediately closed the door behind the Limburgen,

cutting him off from whatever escape or help he might expect.

Hagjo stepped into the short Limburgen’s path. In one motion he

grabbed the creature’s weapon, and inserted its business end into

the guard’s large, unpleasant mouth.

But before either of the Chedi could deliver a warning, the

Limburgen yanked at the weapon to pull it away. Instead, though,

his thick fingers pulled the trigger, and the plasma discharge sent

the foul smelling creature immediately to whatever dismal place

Limburgens go after eating blazer fire.

The closed door and the Limburgen’s mouth muffled much of

the noise from the blazer, but the Chedi realized there was still a

chance they were heard.

“Let’s move,” Duke hissed. “Our element of surprise may be

gone!” He reopened the door onto an empty hallway. Instructing

the women to hide themselves, the Chedi turned and dashed from

the room.

Duke was pleased to find the long, wide corridor was free of

additional guards. As the Chedi rushed though, they couldn’t help

but notice the large, ornate murals covering the walls in bright

colors on both sides of the corridor. Separated by glass and gold

columns, the images stretched from floor to ceiling. Each displayed

a variety of beings in a variety of locations. Under red, yellow, and

even harsh white suns, they included varying terrains. Mountains,

flatlands, swamps, and deserts. Others included cities with cross-

sections of buildings or subterranean caves. Still others had cross

sections of ships on raging seas, or spaceships and space stations

afloat before a spray of distant stars.

But all shared a theme: each mural depicted a fierce battle—

one in which Wardo’s minions, in their red and white stripped

uniform, were on the verge of victory over the other side.

Individual scenes of destruction and death merged to form each

graphic view. In all, sometimes almost hidden within the scene, the

Chedi were able to locate a depiction of Wardo, in some either

wielding a weapon in battle himself, in others merely watching the

destruction. In all he was clearly enjoying himself.

Hearing nothing but their own footsteps, the Chedi continued

down the otherwise empty hall without incident. Suddenly both

slowed, then stopped before a particular mural.

This one, set in open space, displayed a similar collection of

individual scenes which created the whole of a battle. Cross

sections of large and small fighters darted across the panorama,

firing their weapons on cross sections of other ships that were

clearly built for transportation not battle. Their hulls blown open,

ships spewed their crews and passengers into the black void of

airless, weightless space where they were fired upon again. Other

crew could be seen inside the ships, equipment exploding and

blasting crew.

Both Chedi immediately recognized the battle represented

before them.

***

A team of Choctooine scientists had traveled to Pacific, a

world on the far side of the Wonkka sector which was dying. Their

purpose in establishing labs there had been to assist, but also

learn from the world’s tiny race of natives. Peaceful to the

extreme, the “Pacifists” had happily welcomed the scientists to

their dying world. Once they’d learned of their reason for visiting,

they were even more welcoming.

Their planet had passed through the tail of a comet that had

journeyed through their solar system. The materials from the

comet’s tail had severely damaged Pacific’s ozone layer, leaving

holes that foiled its ability to protect the planet’s inhabitants. The

Pacifists would not survive without help.

The Empire learned of the Choctooine science team’s visit, but

did not believe their mission. Convinced that the planet held either

something of value or a weapon the Wonkka Alliance would use

against them, Emperor Sakarin sent Wardo, in secret, with a

powerful armada.

Caught unprepared, the scientists and the Pacific natives were

forced to flee, attempting to evacuate the planet as Wardo’s

armada bombarded them from space.

Clear that there was no great weapon, Wardo’s forces, in very

short order, also established that there was nothing of value either.

Enraged by the waste of his time and resources, Wardo

commanded his ships to continue the attack on the defenseless

planet. In so doing, he destroyed any chance of its recovering from

the damage of the tail of the comet.

The Choctooine scientists, and as many of the natives that

could be fit on their transport ships, fled the planet, Wardo

ordered his ships to pursue. With only a few fighters and nothing

more than a few blazer banks to defend themselves, none of the

Choctooine science vessels had a chance, and all were all

destroyed.

A later mission from Choctooine to the Pacifica rescued only a

few thousand Pacifists—all that was left of the planet’s population.

Wardo reported to Sakarin that sensor readings located high

energy sources emanating from the planet’s surface. He indicated

his suspicion that they were generated by a weapon. The sensor

readings he uploaded to support his report purposefully obscured

the identification of the Choctooine science labs as the source of

the elevated energy readings, and Wardo was rewarded for a job

well done while the Pacifists were almost exterminated.

***

Still frowning at the mural, Hagjo heard Duke repeat, “Where’s

Wardo?”

He realized then that he, too, had been lost in thought,

searching for their quarry’s image in the horrific painting before

them. Simultaneously, the Chedi found him in the upper left

corner. Aboard one of the ships and behind its large viewport,

Wardo stood wearing one of the red-and-white-striped uniforms

used by his guards. A digital recorder in his hand, the picture

portrayed him wearing a broad smile.

At last turning away, the Chedi proceeded down the corridor,

eyes slit in disgust and anger. Ignoring the remaining murals they

were again moving quickly when, ahead of them, a large set of

double doors swung open and Wardo the Nutt stepped into the

corridor, a large satchel clutched in his hand. His eyes bulged as he

caught sight of the two Chedi and he stopped short.

Just under two meters tall and slightly over one meter wide at

his middle, there was little distinction between Wardo the Nutt’s

head and body—he had no neck, and his whole shape formed a

large, brownish oval. His flat face was only two angry slitted eyes,

a ragged gash of nose, and a nasty gapping mouth stretched from

one side to the other of his lumpy head. A thick tangle of living

roots wriggled into view beneath the hem of his striped robe. At

the ends of his two, short, muscular arms, his hands tightened on

the satchel.

His tangled roots became a blur as the Nutt retreated back

toward the room he’d just exited. His voice blasted in a burst of

gas that brought to Hagjo’s mind the sound of a Buttoxan clearing

its gelatin-filled blowhole.

It was more than his voice that had come to resemble a

Buttoxan, Hagjo joked grimly to himself. Their former ally’s

excesses had increased his girth incredibly, and if not for the ball of

roots he moved upon and the lack of an elephantine nose, his

outline would have matched perfectly a young Buttoxan.

Fortunately his scent didn’t compare.

As the Nutt disappeared back through the doorway, the Chedi

raced forward, each pulling short, blunt-ended tubes from their

belts. Holding the devices away from their bodies, each Chedi

depressed a button on the device’s side, igniting a bright beam of

crackling blue light that leaped from the far end of the tube and

stopped after reaching a meter in length.

The beam-blade was the weapon of the Chedi. A single

filament suspended in a glowing force field, it originated on

Choctooine as a tool for cutting chocolate. The monofilament’s

cutting edge was only a few molecules wide and thus impossibly

sharp, while the energy field put off heat to seal the chocolate and

prevent crumbling, leaving no precious flakes to waste.

Strengthened by their constant training and Fudge-enhanced

senses, armed with beam blades, the Chedi were formidable

warriors.

Glowing weapons in hand, the Chedi reached the doorway and

looked into an enormous ballroom. From its ceiling hung a dozen

massive and gaudy chandeliers. Amongst them were several

floating platforms of undetermined purpose. The far end of the

room was filled with large crates in stacks measuring over four

meters in height. The ceiling loomed another five meters above the

top of the crates. The near end of the room was empty except for

the Nutt and eighteen red-and-white striped guards, all armed.

Wardo gagged inarticulately again as the Chedi neared.

“Glad to see you too Wardo!” Duke growled. “I’m tellin’ you,

buddy, you need to learn to push away from the table. You’re really

packin’ on the kilos!”

Wardo responded with an angry bellow.

Hagjo joined in, “Maybe we should start calling him Lardo!”

The Nutt roared and his guards sprang into action. Three

positioned themselves before the Nutt as the others closed on the

Chedi.

Hagjo and Duke swept their beam blades and leapt forward in

unison. Their glowing blades were a blur as they deflected bolts

from the guard’s weapons struck back. In only seconds, six of the

guards were disarmed and retreating. Despite the Nutt’s renewed

bellowing, the others backed off, joining the three comrades

guarding their employer.

The Chedi jerked to a stop as they sensed a new danger.

Simultaneously they looked toward the ceiling as three new

opponents leapt from one of the floating platforms.

They landed silently between the Chedi and the Nutt, their grey

cloaks brushing the floor. Their one piece uniforms were charcoal

grey. Centered on the stark white background on their belt buckles

was a large red C—the symbol for Cert, the world that served as

headquarters for the Empire. A golden strand, representing dental

floss, wound around the red C. A form-fitting mask hid their

features, covering each one’s entire head except for a jagged slash.

Originating at the chin, the slash exposed their mouths and their

perfectly white and straight teeth. Branching off, two narrower

slashes extended upwards over their cheeks and ended as they

widened around the knight’s eyes.

Colored the same stark white as their buckle, the masks

allowed for no identification of the faces beneath.

These men were three of the Emperor’s knights. Enhanced by

their bitter version of the Chedi’s Fudge, they were the ruthless

enforcers of their Emperor’s every whim and desire.

Despite his mask, both Duke and Hagjo immediately

recognized the largest of the knights as Bluto. Even more than Diet

Vanillla, the leader of the Emperor’s knights, Bluto was known as

the most savage of the grey knights, famous and feared throughout

the Empire and beyond. An expert marksman and master

swordsman he’d butchered many of the Emperor’s enemies.

***

Bluto’s latest victim was Captain Popaiy, of the Wonkka

Alliance Stellar Navy. Bluto’s most dedicated opponent. Captain

Popaiy was killed in a surprise attack on an Alliance encampment.

Like Wardo the Nutt, Captain Popaiy, was a Herbiant, a mobile

and sentient plant lifeform. His remains were found sealed within a

crate of small, airtight metal containers. His wide, green, leafy

limbs, bearing the traditional tattoos of the Stellar Navy, had been

shredded.

Only a single member of the encampment’s crew lived through

the savage raid. The lone survivor identified Bluto by his size, his

ferocity, and his wide, perfect smile. It had been long rumored that

Wardo was also involved in that attack. Bluto’s presence at the

Nutt’s fortress seemed to confirm it.

***

The Chedi held their positions as the other two Imperial

Knights dropped their cloaks and advanced while igniting their

own weapons, their beam blades blood red. Closing in carefully,

they separated, each selecting his opponent.

With the dark power of the Bitter Fudge, the knights sprang

forward, forming a wedge between the Chedi, and driving them

apart, blades whipping in determined attacks. Bluto pulled his

cloak close and held his position in front of the Nutt and his

guards.

Duke faded back as his attacker ignited a second beam from the

bottom of his weapon’s grip. He charged Duke, spinning the

double-blade in swift, brutal attacks that drove Duke further away

from Hagjo. Duke parried each blow, ducking and dodging the

whirling energy beam and its deadly edge. He silently thanked M

and M for their relentless training—the advantage of the knight’s

two bladed weapon would be far more difficult to handle without

both his Chedi fighting skills and the enhancements of the sweet

and powerful Fudge.

Hagjo’s attacker kept to a single blade in his assault. Hagjo

quickly took the offensive. Although he was unable to pierce the

knight’s defenses, he gained immediate advantage, advancing

steadily as the knight retreated.

Beside the Nutt, a guard leveled his blazer at Hagjo’s back. His

finger tightened on the trigger, but then the barrel of the weapon

was deflected, his shot ricocheting off one of the far chandeliers.

The guard’s gaze whipped aside, and he was shocked to see

Bluto’s hand wrapped around the barrel of the blazer.

“Put it away,” Bluto snarled, “my man knows what he’s doing.

The guard attempted to tear his weapon from the Imperial Knight’s

grip. Bluto grinned mirthlessly with his famous smile. As his eyes

tightened, the guard’s face paled. “Just enjoy the show.” Releasing

the weapon, Bluto turned back, confidently ignoring the angry

guard who shoved the pistol back into its holder. Bluto chuckled,

giving the fight his full attention.

At their end of the ballroom, Duke identified the knight’s

tactics and fighting style and adjusted his own. The smile present

on the knight’s face at the beginning of his attack faded as the

Chedi’s cuts came faster and closer. He struggled to regain control

of their duel with no progress. Attacks and parries flew until Duke

sidestepped the knight’s blade and surprised him with an upwards

slash that grazed his grey uniform so closely he could feel the heat

of its energy field on his chest and the pop of the fabric as the

monofilament severed it.

Retreating to a defensive posture, the knight gasped, frowning

in pain from the angry welt reddening his chest and visible through

the charred slash now scarring the front of his uniform.

Duke continued to press. The knight began a wild, spinning

series of attacks. Two of the slashes hit the floor sending sharp

slivers of tile at Duke, ripping though his uniform and tearing into

his legs. With a final spin, the knight discharged his blade and

leapt straight up.

Duke raised his guard, expecting an attack from above. Instead

he saw that the knight had grabbed the enormous chandelier under

which they’d been fighting and braced himself within.

Still unsuccessful in striking his opponent, Hagjo began to

suspect that he was being drawn to the far side of the large room.

He eased his attack, glancing suspiciously at his surroundings.

They’d almost reached the stacked crates he’d noticed upon

entering the room.

Seeing Hagjo’s distraction, the knight lunged with a thrust. The

Chedi parried it easily. The knight withdrew his blade and lunged

again with a feinting thrust which worked perfectly. As Hagjo’s

blade swept aside to meet only empty air, the knight directed the

point of his blade at Hagjo’s chest, but the Chedi had already

recovered.

Quickly stepping away, Hagjo dodged the thrust. The knight’s

blade continued and Hagjo parried it, countering with his own

attack. The knight sprang away, barely avoiding injury. Rolling to

his feet, he was quickly back on guard and resuming his full

defensive posture.

Hagjo kept at him, his beam blade practically flying, but he

kept alert as he realized the knight had resumed his steady retreat

toward the crates. He tried to ignore his growing frustration as one

offensive maneuver after another did nothing more than increase

the speed of the knight’s retreat. While concerned that Wardo

might attempt to escape while the Imperial Knights kept Duke and

him occupied, Hagjo was also confident that, if this were a card

game, their wildcard guaranteed the Chedi a winning hand.

Hagjo took little satisfaction from the knight’s struggling. His

defenses were prime, but that was true in large part due to his

complete lack of offense. Cautious of whatever trick he was now

sure the knight had up his sleeve—or among the crates—Hagjo

increased his guard, wary of any surprise attack.

He pressed the retreating night across the room, until they were

but a few meters of the crates and Hagjo’s Fudge-enhanced senses

warned him of a new danger. Instinctively, he dodged as something

whooshed past his head. The Chedi charged the knight, surprising

his Imperial opponent, who stumbled back in confusion as the

Chedi failed to fall.

Hagjo pressed his attack, sweeping his blade in a shallow parry

and lifted its point, binding the knight’s weapon with his own. The

knight’s eyes popped wide in fear as Hagjo lunged. Unable to

break the bind, the knight continued his stumbling retreat, tripped

and fell.

Hagjo leapt over him, landing with his back to a crate. He

glanced up and swept his beam blade just in time to deflect a small

torpedo. The Chedi’s eyes quickly backtracked along the torpedo’s

path and located a wall mounted Nerph launcher.

***

Discovered on the planet Stark by the crew of an Empire

conquest ship, the Nerph weapon system was immediately adopted

into the Empire’s arsenal. Nerph torpedoes, while extensive in

their variety on Stark, were nothing more than toys for the children

of the warrior races of Ironmen who were native to the planet.

Toys used for practice in preparation for one day when the

children would become warriors like their parents. A more potent

version of the Nerph torpedo had been used as nonlethal practice

weapons by the Ironmen’s military.

Encased in powerful exoskeletons that covered them from head

to toe, the Ironmen’s bodies, were safely shielded from all but the

most powerful attacks. Their armored skin was so strong that it

rendered them almost invincible. The weapons their militaries had

to use to be effective were so powerful that they eventually

destroyed the planet Stark and thereby their entire civilization.

When the ruins of Stark were discovered by an Empire ship,

they found all native life extinct. Their weapons, launched in one

last offensive by several of Stark’s warring governments had

destroyed every living creature.

One of the few remnants of Stark technology that the conquest

ship’s crew found was a Nerph gun similar to the one now

targeting Hagjo. Absent a warhead, these torpedoes would have

been like sponge rubber against the Ironmen’s armor. But they

were perfectly lethal against the flesh of the Empire’s enemies.

Like the Nerdz, the Ironmen of Stark had left a legacy that the

Chedi and all the people of Choctooine strived to learn from. The

wisdom of peace had been taught to all of their people and,

whenever possible each of them did their best to achieve it.

***

Balanced on the balls of his feet, Hagjo glanced at the knight.

Still lying on the floor, the knight grinned evilly back at him.

Hagjo’s eyes paused for only a moment before he looked back in

search of a weakness with the launcher. A sudden, loud crash drew

his eyes to the other side of the room.

Discharging one of his dual blades, the knight fighting Duke

slashed through the chain attaching one of the multiple arms of the

chandelier to its center support. Instantly, Duke dove aside as a

two-meter-wide section of metal and colored glass came

plummeting toward him, smashing into the floor, and shattering.

He dove again, dodging a second chandelier arm.

Duke rolled to his feet and leapt. Whipping his blazer from its

holster, he tumbled from under the great chandelier’s remaining

arms and spun, leveling his weapon. The knight, braced on the

main support chain of the chandelier, saw the weapon and his

smile dissolved. His blade flashed before him defensively.

Duke smiled, holding the pistol’s barrel on the knight. He

squeezed off two shots. The knight deflected the first easily. But

the second plasma bolt’s target was well above the knight. It hit

with a burst of sparks and shattered the thick chain supporting the

entire light array. Eyes wide in panic, the knight leapt as the

chandelier came plummeting to the floor.

Metal and glass flying, the knight hit the floor hard and

tumbled clear of the crash. Regaining his feet beneath him, he

ignited both ends of his blade, scowled at Duke and charged. Duke

slammed the blazer back in its holster as his blade practically leapt

into his hand and ignited in time to parry the knight’s renewed

attack.

Hagjo dodged another torpedo. His blade in a wary guard, he

rechecked the fallen knight, whose smile remained wide and

bright. Satisfied that the stunned knight was no immediate concern,

Hagjo studied the automated launcher. Built into a short wall

standing amongst the crates, it was clearly positioned to secure this

side of the large room. Having no idea of the unit’s range, Hagjo

spun and charged the knight. Sneering as he advanced, Hagjo’s

eyes tightened as the knight quickly regained his feet.

The knight’s smile faded under the flurry of furious blows

rained down by the Chedi. Hagjo angled his stance and his attacks,

keeping the Imperial Knight between himself and the Nerph

blaster, certain for now that the launcher wasn’t programmed to

fire on its own people.

But empowered by the Fudge, he soon saw he was wrong.

Hagjo gasped as he saw the Nerph blaster angle and take aim,

apparently programmed to ignore any obstacle between itself and

its target. His eyes shifted, meeting the knight’s whose expression

made it clear he was aware of the deadly Nerph attack aimed at his

back.

Leaping forward, Hagjo parried and again bound the anxious

knight’s blade. His foot lashed out, kicking the knight aside just as

the launcher fired a double attack. The first torpedo rocketed by

harmlessly. But as the knight fell, his arm flailed through the

second’s path. Struck just beneath his right elbow, he dropped his

blade, screaming in pain as his weapon shut off and skidded across

the floor.

Hagjo landed awkwardly. He rolled back to his feet and dove

again as the torpedo he’d been expecting flew past, barely missing

him before tearing through one of the crates, releasing an

avalanche of wrapped chocolates that flooded from the shattered

crate and rattled against the floor.

Continuing to move, Hagjo leapt over the injured knight and

drew his blazer. Coming up on one knee, he fired at the next

torpedo. The bolt exploded on contact, deflecting the torpedo into

another crate. Broken pieces of chocolate cascaded from that

shattered crate as he continued firing.

Only meters from the launcher, his bolts ricocheted. Firing a

few more times to the same effect, Hagjo stopped, disappointed as

his blasts discharged harmlessly against the launcher’s protective

energy shield.

But back on his feet and free of a blade-wielding attacker, he

could now avoid easily the next torpedo as he leveled his blazer

again. He fired several times, targeting the wall just beyond the

edge of the launcher’s shield. He paused while smoke cleared,

hoping to see that he had punched through the wall and severed the

launcher’s power supply. Instead, he dodged again as another

torpedo burst from the smoke. When moments later the smoke

cleared, he was disappointed again to see the wall bordering the

shield was charred, but the armor behind it held.

Firing again, he hit the underside of the next torpedo. As it

deflected toward the ceiling he retreated. Glancing once more

toward the knight, still on the floor cradling his injured arm, Hagjo

raced away from the crate filled area. Clearing the perimeter, he

turned back and stood ready only to see the launcher’s firing nozzle

slide back into its chamber. Shifting his gaze toward the fallen

knight, Hagjo saw him in an almost fetal position, pain and fear

contorting his features as he struggled to remain perfectly still—

with Hagjo out of range, the knight was intent on not becoming the

launcher’s target again.

Sure now that he was now beyond the launcher’s programmed

perimeter, Hagjo redirected his gaze. Looking past the injured

knight, he spotted the end of the knight’s dropped blade poking out

beneath a pallet stacked high with crates. Extending his arm, Hagjo

let the power of the Fudge course through him, its sweet complex

flavor triggering in his brain. He pushed with his mind and sent the

blade skidding fully beneath the pallet, out of sight and out of

reach.

His arm dropped. He gasped at the high-pitched whine he

recognized as an overloading beam blade and spun back toward

Duke at the other end of the large room.

Having leapt from the crashing chandelier, the knight had

advanced beyond its wreckage and resumed his attack on Duke.

The Chedi’s blade flashed, parrying rapid fire attacks as the knight

pressed forward using both ends of his doubled blade. Weaving in

and back, Duke deflected every attack and answered with his own.

The knight lunged, managing a near miss. Duke retreated.

With another series of rapid-fire attacks, the knight finally

caught Duke’s blade in a bind. Sweeping the Chedi’s blade away,

he also swept his opposing blade in with a slashing attack.

Duke moved to counter it. Disengaging his blade, he dodged

the knight’s swipe and followed with one of his own. A dazzling

flash burst as his blade hit near the knight’s grip at the base of one

of the dual blades. Both tried to withdraw their weapon, but the

energy fields that supported the cutting filaments had fused.

The fused beam blades began to whine. Duke and the knight’s

eyes met as each tried again to free his blade, knowing that the

whine indicated the weapons’ were experiencing feedback—their

energy systems were overloading. Duke triggered his discharge

button—better no blade than one exploding in your hand, as M and

M had often warned in training—but the blade didn’t power down.

A chill coursed down Duke’s spine.

His eyes lit with pain, the knight tried to let go of his weapon.

But with his hands centimeters away from where the blades were in

contact, they were pinned within the weapons’ overloading energy

field.

The whine grew to a buzzing howl. The knight panicked. Duke

released his weapon and retreated in a string of rapid backflips as

the overloaded weapons screeched and exploded in a hot, white

flash. The concussion of the blast threw Duke to the floor.

He slid, finally crashing against a wall. As the roar of the

explosion faded in his ears, he heard the sound of his dropped

blazer pistol skittering away from him across the floor.

Swaying to his feet, Duke turned to face the Nutt and his

remaining guards. Standing with them, Bluto glared angrily at the

Chedi. Both men’s eyes glanced at Duke’s blazer where it lay on

the floor between them, well out of Duke’s reach.

“Chedi” Bluto greeted, his lips spread into an evil grin. He

lifted a massive two chambered blazer from beneath his cloak.

The blazer rifle was a heavy and awkward weapon. Only

someone with Bluto’s size, strength and training could wield it

successfully without assistance. Defenseless, Duke, looked back

into Bluto’s smiling face. Despite the abilities he possessed

through the Fudge, Duke knew he would not likely be able to

dodge far enough to clear the wide blast of a blazer rifle. His mind

itched to use the Fudge’s power to draw his pistol to him, but

doing that, he knew, would only prompt Bluto to fire.

At the far end of the room, Hagjo rushed toward them, readying

his shot. , But with guards and all the wreckage, he had no clear

shot at Bluto and held his fire.

Duke stared coolly at Bluto, still preparing for a dodge he

didn’t believe would be successful.

Bluto snarled, “Let’s see if your Chedi training can save you

from—”

A flash burst beneath Bluto’s chin, cutting off his gloating. His

eyes crossed and his lips pursed, his last syllable frozen in place.

Duke sighed but held his position as Bluto took an awkward half

step forward.

The guards behind Bluto were suddenly shuffling. Confused

shouts rose and they began bumping into one another as Bluto

tipped forward at his waist. His head dipped, and then separated

from his neck. The Nutt belched angrily as Bluto’s head bounced

across the floor.

Duke darted forward. Leaping over Bluto’s head, he kicked the

knight’s collapsing frame in the chest. Wardo’s guards scattered as

Bluto dropped the rifle. Duke ignored it, instead holding out his

hand to catch his pistol as it leapt to him from the floor. Ready for

action, he watched Bluto’s body as it toppled backwards into the

scattering guards.

The guard, who’d seen the Chedi’s ship from the turret, became

visible to Duke as Bluto’s body fell from view. Reigniting her

beam blade, she drove more guards into retreat with only a few

wild shots to defend herself against.

Pulling the breath shield from her face, she angled her blade to

deflect the only well-aimed blazer bolt. No longer hidden by the

mask her features lit with a smile as she looked to her fellow

Chedi. Duke gave her a nod and she turned, her smile tightening to

a thin line and her eyes narrowing as they focused on the Nutt.

Seeing her face, Wardo gasped and blurted another loud, ugly

noise. The Chedi laughed, flashing her blade and leapt at the

retreating Wardo

“I told you I’d be here when you went down, she reminded the

Nutt. “Today is that day!”

She pirouetted, foot flashing in a roundhouse kick to the Nutt’s

chest as she simultaneously wrenched the satchel from his grasp.

Wardo stumbled back as she retreated. Duke stepped to her

side, pistol at the ready. Without looking at his rescuer, he took the

satchel from her hand.

“Thank you Schan!”

“My pleasure,” she said as her beam blade blazed into action

deflecting blazer bolts from the guards’ weapons as the Nutt

burped and moaned orders.

Hagjo’s smile fell almost as soon as he joined the other Chedi.

Several of the guards nervously positioned themselves between the

slowly retreating Nutt and his enemies as he stuffed his face with

the bitter and powerful Fudge of the Empire.

His face stained with dark brown smudges, the Nutt took

several deep breaths and began shuddering with irregular and

increasingly violent spasms.

The guards cast worried glances at the Nutt over their

shoulders, most wishing that he’d order a full retreat. Schan

stepped forward, brandishing her blade, as several guards lost their

nerve and ran, not waiting for an order from their employer. The

remaining few held their position.

Putting his hand on Schan’s shoulder, Duke stopped her

advance and directed her attention to the Nutt’s behavior.

Pausing, the two Chedi’s eyes met briefly before shifting to

meet Hagjo’s. Duke nodded again and he and Schan stepped

backwards in a slow retreat. Schan’s expression clearly displayed

her displeasure in their giving way, but Duke held her shoulder and

kept moving. She snarled but didn’t pull from his grasp.

Hagjo looked back toward the seizing Nutt as the guards

shuffled to stay between him and their unsteady employer. Still

behind Schan, Duke extended his blazer and fired. A blossom of

flame erupted in the center of a guard’s armored chest and he fell

back. As the remaining guards redirected their attention and

weapons at Duke and Schan, Hagjo made his move.

With two quick steps forward, Hagjo threw himself into the air.

Vaulting over the guards’ heads, he slashed, and severed blazer

barrels flew in a burst of sparks. The men broke formation as

Hagjo landed in front of the Nutt. Schan and Duke were also

moving, her blade and his blazer flashing as the last of the guards

fled in full retreat.

The Nutt’s bulging eyes locked on Hagjo as the Chedi landed at

his gnarled roots. Wardo’s only reaction was an increase in his

twitching. His breath rushed up and down his throat as his body

began to be transfigured by the energies of the bitter Fudge he’d

consumed.

Hagjo pointed his blade at him. “It’s over, Wardo. No amount

of Sakarin’s Fudge will help you escape this time.”

The Nutt staggered back, convulsing. His eyes locked on Hagjo

as his hands clawed open his robes.

Flapping at his sides, Wardo’s torn robe exposed his broad, tan

chest and a colorful wrap that covered him from his lower chest to

the writhing roots he used for locomotion. Strapped above it was a

wide black belt from which two pouches hung. As Hagjo watched,

the Nutt reached into one and pulled out a fistful of dark, bitter

Imperial Fudge. The Chedi had to stop himself from slashing the

bitter Fudge from Wardo’s hand,

Seconds later he regretted resisting that impulse.

The Nutt shoved the Fudge into his mouth and three growths

suddenly sprouted from his chest. In seconds they’d grown to over

a meter in length. The Nutt jumped forward and slashed at Hagjo

with two of the limbs which were studded with large, jagged

thorns. The third began forming a large bud that grew and swelled

and began to bloom.

Dodging one limb, Hagjo parried the other with his blade,

severing it. As he came back on guard, he saw the bloom, now

fully open and brilliant orange in color. A thick cloud of spores

sprayed from it as Hagjo dropped and rolled away, avoiding the

poisonous attack. Once on his feet again, he immediately dodged

again as Wardo swung the remaining thorn-studded limb at his

head.

“Wardo, stop now!” Hagjo shouted. The spent bloom withered,

and several new growths begin to form. Extending his blade, Hagjo

waited for a response as two of the new growths began to form

buds. He shouted again. “Last chance Wardo! Don’t be a nut!”

Wardo only shoved more Fudge into his mouth. New limbs

continued to sprout and grow. The Nutt began thrashing,

attempting to strike Hagjo with his remaining thorned limb.

Hagjo ducked past and sliced through the limb with his blade,

then frowned as new sprouts joined the others already forming. If

anything, the new limbs were growing at a faster rate than the first.

As new buds prepared to open, Hagjo attacked in earnest.

Slashing with his beam blade, he split the immature buds and

severed the other forming limbs. The Nutt continued budding and

trying to attack. Ignoring those efforts, Hagjo stepped in and sliced

twice through Wardo's torso.

With the Nutt now divided into three pieces, Hagjo stepped

back and frowned. His blade still high over his head he, breathed

heavily as he looked down on the scattered sections. Wardo’s face

was still and lifeless but every section of his divided body

continued to flinch and squirm. Hagjo’s eyes widened in disgust as

he saw several root-ike tendrils already growing from one of

Wardo’s larger pieces, seeming to reach for the bags of Fudge.

With a disgusted expression, Hagjo leaned forward and pulled the

slashed belt and its pouches free of the root like fingers. Noting

that each pouch was still nearly half full, he threw them and their

contents across the room.

“Regenerate from that you traitorous, chocolate hoarding,

peanut!” Hagjo growled, knowing that was exactly what was going

to happen. As he backed away from the chopped Nutt, Duke and

Schan stepped to his side.

“I’d hoped he wouldn’t make that necessary,” Duke sighed.

Schan remained silent.

His anger gone and his stomach uneasy, Hagjo holstered his

blade, envisioning those fine roots thickening into hooked fingers

that would continue sprouting from Wardo’s severed pieces.

Grasping their counterparts, Wardo’s body would slowly pull itself

back together and then begin its regeneration in earnest.

“I just hope that’s enough to keep him until the retrieval squad

gets here,” Hagjo said quietly. “He’s eaten a lot of Saccharin’s

Fudge.”

All at once, the Chedi tensed, their Fudge enhanced senses

warning of a new danger. At the sound of an evil grunt, Hagjo and

Duke began to turn, but Schan was already in motion.

Running, she leapt into the air, narrowly passing between

several ripping blazer bolts. Twisting, as she flew, she slashed with

her blade, deflecting a bolt before landing and dodging another.

Discharging her blade as she landed, she chopped at the guard’s

arm with the metal blade handle deflecting the guard’s aim. In the

same motion, she stomped on one of the wide, flat feet of the

Chikitan guard.

***

The Chikita closely resemble a sentient banana. With bodies

the shape of a moon sliver and covered in a thick yellow skin, what

appears to be a furry brown stem sticks out from the top of their

pointed heads. Their arms and legs fail to distract from the

resemblance. Over two and a half meters in height, the Chikita’s

fibrous forms weighed in, on average, at almost one hundred and

fifty kilograms.

***

Bellowing loudly, as his foot flattened beneath Schan’s, the

guard’s eyes widened in anger, and pain. Distracted by the pain, the

Chikita was surprised when she grabbed away his weapon.

Pulling the pistol free, she found herself looking directly into

the Chikita’s wide, ugly mouth. The being’s shout of pain was

enhanced by disgustingly foul breath and pale green teeth, sharp

and jagged.

The Chikita grabbed her and leaned in to bite her face. Quickly

reversing her grip on the blazer, Schan pressed its barrel against the

guard’s chest and shouted a warning. Rather than stop however the

Chikita’ green teeth snapped again. When the next attempt scraped

her cheek, Schan fired once.

The Chikita dropped to the floor, Schan continued firing as an

angry bunch of Chikitas rushed in. Duke and Hagjo opened fire as

well. Wounded Chikitas dropped like overripe fruit, their comrades

behind crashing to the floor as they slipped on their fallen

comrades. Quickly, their numbers were sliced and those still

standing dropped their weapons, and split.

The room was suddenly quiet. No more of Wardo’s red-and-

white striped guards were in sight, Schan turned back to her

friends. Hagjo was using his beam blade to slice through Wardo’s

leather satchel. Duke then held it open, exposing the variety of

solid dark and milk chocolates.

“That’s what we came for!” Duke grinned.

Hagjo smiled thinly, weary. He hugged Schan and shook

Duke’s free hand.

“The Emperor won’t get his dirty tentacles on these beauties!”

Schan announced.

“Tentacles?” Hagjo’s brow furrowed.

“He’s ugly enough!” she replied with a shrug.

Laughing, the three positioned themselves in the corners of a

triangle and raised their clasped hands high. “Chocolate for all!”

they declared together.

Immediately, they set about wrapping up their mission: First

they freed the injured Imperial Knight from the Nerph trap, treated

his wounds, and secured him with the other captured guards in the

fortress’ holding cells. Then they disabled the Nutt’s ship and

fighters on the landing pads, leaving them for the Chedi retrieval

team to confiscate when they arrived.

Noting that the tiny tendrils had continued to form along the

edges of Wardo’s severed parts, Schan dragged them several

meters apart. To further hinder his regeneration, she ignited her

blade, the filament snapping rigid in its glowing energy field, and

slashed the tiny tendrils away, like so many whiskers under a

crazed barber’s razor.

Finally, the trio gathered the ladies from the atrium onto their

Chedi ship. Powering up the engines, they lifted into the still dark

sky and left the Nutt’s fortress behind.