Our mission:
As delivered by 
Our crew:
Galacdictator Tangle (
Underlord Negavader (
Byepeex Reist-Stoomtrooper Destroyer (
Sixty-Wine (
Previous missions begin here:
picking up right where Sixty-Wine left off...
“Tag along it is, then,” I said, flashing my winningest of winning smiles at Sixty-Wine. I swirled my glitter-spangled skirts, primarily for the benefit of that marvelous musky slab of masculinity Negavader had brought back with him.
They followed me (and really, who wouldn’t? The view was divine) up to my bridge-chambers. I settled into my throne and began punching commands into the armrest. Four faces stared up at me in adoration, pain, and some-emotion-I-don’t-know-that-robots-have.
Wait. Four? Negavader, the man-candy, and two robots.
How many recruits had Negavader brought to my heel? I would have to be lenient when I punished him for secretly trying to overthrow me later.
“Alright. While you were all down gazing upon mammaries, I actually handled one and removed a strange, oversized timepiece. There may have been some glitter. Intangible, play a recording of the events that occurred in the cargo hold while Negavader was planetside.”
Bloop-bleeep said the computer, and there I was upon the viewscreen. Everyone watched. I made a note to myself to bend over more provocatively next time.
“What. The bleeeep. Did I just watch.” Sixty-Wine made me nervous, he certainly wasn’t as subservient as a robot servant was supposed to be.
“Can we watch that again? That was bleeeep awesome.” Pex, on the other hand, engaged a whole different set of nerve endings.
“¿Bleeeep, dónde está el baño?” The other robot wobbled drunkenly. My lip curled in distaste.
“My bleeeep hurts.” Negavader was the same as always.
“What the bleeeep is all that bleeping?” I was beginning to get a headache.
“That’s a bleeeep distress signal, ma’am.” Negavader pointed at the red beacon flashing on the console.
“Well, make it bleeeep stop with the noise! It’s bleeeep distressing me.”
Negavader limped to comply and glorious silence was restored.
“Now. Where was I. Oh yes. New Westchesteristan Zealandia. That was the time that was displayed on that watch. We need to go there and find out--”
“S-sorry ma’am, but there’s, ah, a new message from Dr. Muxx?” My second-in-command interrupted me. Punishments restored.
“What does the Slime Lord want this time?” I was going to have to get my number unlisted.
“He says, and I quote, ‘Galacdictator Tangle et al.... a distress signal has been detected in the Quadrangular Quadrant. Source unknown, species unknown. Take thine crew and investigate / rescue / dominate whoever it is disturbing the galactic peace.’”
“Dominate.” I pondered. “Hmm.” I tapped some buttons. “Well, the Quadrangular Quadrant is on the way to NWZ. I suppose… I suppose I could stand to expand my rule a little further.”
The robot servants had wandered off at some point, probably anxious for some menial task to do. Pex was watching the cargo hold video on repeat. I noticed that I was hungry, for more than just a snack.
“Negavader. Set a course for the source of that distress signal. Get the two robots to help you clean up all the glitter while we’re on the way. We’ll see what’s going on there. In the meantime, Pex and I will have a little interview.”
Pex gave me a big wink over his shoulder.
“Why doesn’t he have to clean up glitter?” Negavader’s bottom lip poked out a little.
“Because he’s a new hire, and I need to discuss his benefits,” I said matter-of-factly.
“What benefits?” Negavader was pouting now.
“The benefits that come with his package, that’s what.”
“I don’t have a benefits package.” Negavader bled on the floor a little.
“Of course you do, it’s a full benefits package. Dental, vision, and life insurance.”
“How do you figure?” He folded his arms across his chest and snorted.
“I haven’t kicked in your teeth or gouged out your eyes, and if you keep doing your job without trying to overthrow me, I won’t have to kill you. Hmm? Now get out of here.”
Negavader shuffled out, mumbling, and I ordered something extra special from the kitchen.
Pex was already at my side. “So, you were wanting to discuss my package?”
I drank him in like a tall glass of Bottish whisky. His scent was intoxicating: pine logs, red plaid, maple syrup, thick sliced bacon, hockey sweat, wolverines.
“Indeed I was. But first; you must be starving.” I retrieved the steaming platter of perfectly frenched fries, scattered with curds of rich white cheese, smothered in salty gravy, and offered it to him.
His eyes widened in delight. “Poutine! How did you know it’s my favourite?”
“Lucky guess, eh?”
STEEM Wars is the brainchild of @gmuxx. It is a community creativity parody project with a sci-fi basis. Read more in the following links:
Steem Wars image by
Cover image generated with Canva, using image from Pixabay.com
