by Z H Brown
Before anyone else could say anything, the moment arrived, and nearby, a flash of light and a gust of wind heralded the arrival of the alien leader.
Omegazon had registered the fact that this being was twice his height after seeing the footage of his ruthless execution, but it still left Omegazon a little stunned at the sheer size of him. The huge, silvery-clad being slowly walked towards the assembled heroes, his massive feet crunching the ground beneath him; Omegazon could just barely make out the pronged staff strapped to his opponent’s back.
The giant stopped just short of the group and quickly glanced over them all. Omegazon could tell by his standing that the invader was filled with anticipation. The Emperor looked directly at Omegazon.
“Allow me to first say that I have nothing but respect for you, Champion. Standing up to impossible odds for the sake of your planet is a noble act.”
Omegazon merely nodded his acceptance of this compliment, not quite sure what to say to the giant. His teammates cast their own glares or fearful glances that the gleaming figure ignored.
“The Challenge is straightforward. The two of us shall battle until one of us is unable to; be it through unconsciousness, surrender… or death. Any outside interference, on either of our parts, will result in forfeiture.”
Betarange opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Yellta, who grabbed his arm and shook her head.
“One-on-one all the way, works for me,” said Omegazon boldly, mentally preparing himself for what was about to begin.
“Are you ready?” asked the Emperor. Omegazon nodded.
“Then, as soon as your comrades depart, we can begin.”
Omegazon turned to look back at his team and said simply: “It’s time, guys.”
Yellta cast a furtive look at her betrothed before moving to join the others who had bunched around Zindigo as she prepared to teleport them. As Veta placed her hand on Zindigo’s shoulder, she called out to her teammate:
“Kick his ass, Red!”
And with that, the group disappeared in a flash of purple light.
Omegazon turned back to his opponent, who now had a small smile across his face.
“Now then, shall we begin?” asked the Emperor.
The group reappeared not far from where the two combatants still stood. They were standing at the top of a rocky hill, and from their vantage, could make out the two figures, one huge and shiny, and the other, a small, dark red shape.
As the group studied the distant fighters, Yellta clasped her hands together for a quick prayer.
Please, let him come out of this alive.
Omegazon crouched low, sizing up his opponent and considering his options. Emperor Xandarius stood with his arms up at his sides, his hands clenched tight in anticipation. For several moments, neither opponent made a move.
Omegazon decided to take the offensive approach, and fired a lance of red energy from the symbol on his chest.
The energy appeared to strike its target, as a flash of bright light and the rumble of an explosion caused Omegazon to briefly turn his head away to avoid being blinded. When he turned back, the Emperor was gone.
“An admirable first strike,” came a deep voice from behind him.
Omegazon raised his arms up and pointed his fists back behind him, channeling a blast of energy from his gauntlets this time. Xandarius leaned back almost lazily to dodge the blast, and Omegazon activated his suit’s flight feature to put some distance between himself and his opponent.
When Omegazon came to a stop, he discovered that his opponent hadn’t moved at all. Unsure of his adversary’s strategy, Omegazon decided to press the offensive, and let loose with another barrage from his gauntlets.
The Emperor raised one hand to chest height, his fingers spread, as though he intended to catch the blasts in his massive palms. Instead, his energy blasts struck an invisible barrier before detonating.
OK, so he’s super-fast, and he can project force fields, thought Omegazon. Tough, but not the worst I’ve ever fought.
Deciding to change tactics, Omegazon raced towards his opponent, his toes skimming the ground as he prepared to hit the alien with a mighty punch.
As Omegazon lifted off the ground and launched his fist forward, the Emperor again seemed to only move casually to the right but still completely avoided the punch. Omegazon didn’t allow this to throw him off, as he spun around and began delivering a flurry of kicks and punches. He wasn’t able to land a single one.
The Emperor stayed just out of reach of the hero, avoiding each of his blows effortlessly.
Omegazon gave a frustrated yell and released a blast of energy from his suit to propel his fist forward in a mighty punch. With a thunderous crack, Omegazon’s hand made contact with the palm of Emperor Xandarius, who immediately closed his hand to trap the hero’s glowing red fist. Omegazon’s eyes widened as he stared at the emperor’s fingers, twice the size of his own, dwarfing his hand as if he were a child.
“My turn,” the Emperor said, just a hint of excitement visible on his face. With his free hand, Xandarius pulled back his arm and slammed a fist into Omegazon’s stomach. The warrior would have fallen to the ground in pain if his fist hadn’t still been caught firmly in the Emperor’s grasp.
No hint of emotion on his pale face, the giant held Omegazon suspended in the air for a moment before releasing him to plummet toward the ground. The hero was too stunned to act, and was unable to block or dodge the kick from the Emperor that sent the combatant flying backwards into a sand dune. The loose material lessened the impact only slightly.
As Omegazon lied stunned, Xandarius slowly advanced on his fallen opponent, his arms behind his back, this time floating slightly above the ground as he had done when he’d executed Maxzor.
“It can end now, you know,” the Emperor told Anogolis’ champion, who struggled onto his knees. “Most fights are quite short, and you are someone who I would very much like to spare. A man like you could have a high place within my Empire, and your friends as well, if they possess skill akin to yours; all you have to do is surrender, and this all ends.”
Omegazon, head bent toward the ground, mumbled some words that Xandarius missed. The giant bent closer to his opponent.
“What was that?” he asked.
In a stronger voice than Xandarius was expecting, Omegazon cried “Surrender to this!” and looked up at the giant man to unleash a blast of energy from his eyes.
Unable to bring up his force field in time, the Emperor caught the blast full in the face, causing him to pull away with a roar. The damage was minimal, and the blindness was temporary, so Omegazon decided to press his advantage.
Omegazon burst off the dune, portions of his armor glowing as his energy flooded its systems, enhancing his strength and speed to the optimal output. Omegazon rushed forward and began delivering a furious flurry of blows, kicks and punches striking the alien in his chest, stomach and face. The hero struck the Emperor under his chin, lifting the invader into the air where he was hit by a full blast from Omegazon’s chest beam.
Xandarius was sent rocketing upward with a pained roar as the red energy sent red sparks through his silver suit. The alien ruler was quickly able to throw out his arms and bring his flight to a stop. As he floated in the air, high above the ground, his still stinging eyes spotted his opponent, who was doubled over to collect as much energy as he could for his next attack. Before the Emperor had time to move, Omegazon unleashed the blast, energy pouring from his chest, gauntlets, eyes and mouth as he tried to bring this fight to an end.
Deciding not to dodge this shot, Xandarius pulled a long staff with five small prongs on each end from his back. Separating the staff into its two parts more quickly than the eye could see, the Emperor activated his weapons, and crackling electricity sprang to life from the prongs on both ends.
As the energy raced towards him, the Emperor slung his weapons out in front of himself and in one fluid motion caught the beam in a web of energy between his
weapons and spun them around to release the blast right back at Omegazon.
The hero reacted in a second, gathering energy once more to fire at the incoming blast. The two beams met in mid-air and exploded, bathing the area in blinding white light.
As Omegazon recovered from the exhausting blasts and the explosion, Xandarius slowly descended to the ground. When his feet were firmly planted, the Emperor raised one arm and unleashed a stream of pinkish-purple energy at the hero. Omegazon fired streams of his own energy from both hands, and the red and purple energies met with an electric crackle between the combatants. For a moment, the beams struggled against each other, both trying to overpower the other, but slowly Omegazon’s beam was pushed back. Omegazon fought past his exhaustion and pain to gather as much energy as he could to repel the blast, but Xandarius suddenly poured on more power, turning the slowly advancing beam into a rushing, oncoming wave of energy. Omegazon had just enough time to raise his arms to cover his face before he was swallowed by the blast.
The other members of the Seven had remained on the hill as the battle below them unfolded. They had watched, tense and breathless as the opening attacks had been unleashed and Omegazon’s preliminary attempts to breach the Emperor’s defenses were smacked down. They’d cheered as their leader blasted the giant and began his own onslaught, none of them daring to hope that this would lead the fight to a swift and happy conclusion. Dread had filled them as they saw the Emperor catch and reflect Omegazon’s strongest barrage, and they had all been nearly blinded by the blasts exploding in midair. Then, a purple beam from the invader had overwhelmed their world’s champion. It did not look to any of them like he would be getting up from this one.
“We have to get down there!” said Veta.
Despite their orders, none of the assembled heroes could willfully standby and watch what they were seeing continue.
“Everybody hold tight, then!” yelled Zindigo.
Omegazon’s vision was blurry, his ears were ringing, his whole body felt like he had been stepped on, and he tasted blood.
All in all, it wasn’t a good day to be him.
Omegazon was unaware when the Emperor had closed the distance between the two, but the hero felt the giant grab the front of his armor and lift him off the ground. Xandarius brought the warrior close to his face and spoke calmly.
“You have fought valiantly, champion, but clearly you are beaten. Do you concede the fight- and your world- to me, or will you pointlessly throw your life away by continuing to struggle?”
Omegazon’s head rolled, it was hard for him to think. Before he could reply, a flash of purple on the edge of his vision distracted him.
Oh, no.
Help had arrived.
“Put him down, monster!” came the voice of Yellta from behind him.
Even through his pain and haze, Omegazon could make out the look of sad disappointment on his opponent’s face.
“Interference equals forfeiture,” said the Emperor simply, as he raised his free hand and began to collect energy.
Omegazon knew that this situation was about to erupt into an even larger brawl than he had just been through, so he summoned his strength for his final move.
“Wait…” Omegazon’s voice came out as barely more than a croaked whisper, and yet all of the assembled combatants heard him.
“I surrender. You win,” he said weakly to Xandarius.
Omegazon could only imagine the looks on his friends’ faces behind him, but he was certain that they all contained shock, disbelief, uncertainty, and probably anger.
The energy that the Emperor had been collecting dissipated as he lowered his free hand. At first, Xandarius’ cold face was unreadable, but then the corners of his lips upturned in a small smile.
“Very good,” he said, as he slowly (gently, thought Omegazon with surprise) lowered his opponent into the waiting arms of his friends.
Just before he lost consciousness, Omegazon heard the Emperor say one more thing. “It would appear I have chosen my governor wisely.”
…WHAT!?!? the hero thought frantically before his world went black.
Chapter III
Welcome to the Empire
“As the appointed governor of this world, you will be responsible for enforcing my will and ensuring that all Imperial laws and decrees are followed.”
Emperor Xandarius was speaking to the assembled men and woman via viewscreen. He had returned to his ship after the duel and sent a message a few hours later, telling Omegazon that he would be addressing him, the locally selected leaders, and whatever advisors he chose to bring the next day at midday, local time.
Blusilon had worked for hours to heal Omegazon, but even with the healer’s natural abilities and the team’s cutting-edge medical equipment, their leader was still pretty banged up. His armor had taken the brunt of the damage, but Omegazon was lucky to have come out of it alive. He had numerous cuts and burns, a fractured skull, two broken ribs and a dislocated knee. The injuries had been reduced, and Omegazon was able to stand unsupported, but his skin was still covered in bruises, and you could make out the bulge of bandages around his torso underneath his slim back-up suit. And as he listened to his emperor deliver his first royal address to his new subjects, he thought back on how they’d wound up here.
Yellta had sent word back to Angolis’ capital with the news of the outcome of the fight. The Executive Council had reacted with shock, disbelief, and not a few angry comments. Some of the councilors suggested launching an immediate attack against the invaders, with The Seven leading the charge (whether they would be there to inspire confidence or to suicidally charge in to make up for their leader’s defeat were both thoughts that crossed Yellta’s mind.) That idea was rejected by both Yellta and the more level-headed councilors.
“Their ruler was able to single-handedly subdue our world’s greatest hero, has a massive warship above us with unknown capabilities and quite possibly tens of thousands of troops and vehicles. An aggressive response will at best get us and you killed. At worst, he kills everyone. Fighting is not an option at this moment,” said Yellta to the screen where the assembled councilors were projected aboard their ship.
“Gods above, do you think he’d do such a thing?” asked one of the councilors. “To be honest, no. He seems to have a code of honor that he sticks to, and I can’t imagine someone who would give his conquests a chance to avoid being absorbed would also resort to genocide, but we really have no way of knowing for sure what he’s capable of, or what we can do to inadvertently provoke him, so going in guns blazing is out. End of story.”
The councilors all fell into an uneasy silence as they individually mulled over the information.
“How is Omegazon doing? Will he survive?” asked a purple-skinned councilor. Yellta opened her mouth to answer, but only a small noise escaped. She swallowed hard and through the video chat the assembled council could see her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. She took a deep breath before answering.
“Blusilon is working on him in the medbay, and we’ll be rushing him to the infirmary once we reach our base. He’s stable at the moment, but that monster did a number on him.”
No one pointed out she hadn’t mentioned how likely his survival was.
“What did he mean when he said Omegazon was his pick for governor? Does that mean he’s handing control of Angolis to one man?”
“The initial message, the one delivered by the robot mentioned that there would be an appointment, and it looks like Omegazon is his pick,” chimed in another councilor.
“However, we won’t know exactly what that means for Omegazon, us, you, or the planet, until we are contacted by the alien again,” replied Yellta.
“It sounds like all we can do at the moment is wait and see,” said one councilor, bitterly.
“I’m afraid so, Councilor,” agreed Yellta, with legitimate sympathy.
“In the meantime, we need to address the public,” said the purple councilor. “The question is, how much
do we tell them?”
“I’ll have to leave that up to you, Councilors,” said Yellta. She was far too tired and nervous about Rodo to worry about PR at the moment. “Just know you continue to have our full support.”
The assembled councilors nodded to the heroine and terminated the feed. They had their own situations to attend to.
As the day passed into evening and the team arrived at their base, Yellta received the message about the meeting at midday tomorrow.
For an interstellar ruler with a code of honor, he sure can be unsympathetic to someone he just mangled.
Yellta had a little bit longer of a wait before Blusilon emerged from the private trauma ward. He looked exhausted and haggard, moving stiffly. He collapsed on a nearby couch and pulled an energy bar from his belt. He unwrapped it and crammed the whole thing unceremoniously into his mouth.
Yellta waited patiently (outwardly, at least, inside she was a nervous ball of anxiety) for the doctor to finish his snack. As soon as he swallowed, Yellta pounced.
“How is he Neilo- how bad is it?”
“Rodo will be fine,” said Blusilon in a tired voice.
Yellta felt a pang of guilt for not inquiring into the doctor’s own condition, but she did not interrupt to say so as the medic continued.
“I was able to stabilize him on the flight, and that prevented the worst of his injuries from causing long-term damage. Since then I’ve been working on mostly the stuff I couldn’t get to while I was focusing on his major injuries. He should be awake soon, but he’s gonna be in my care for probably a week, week and a half at most.”
Yellta felt relief sweep through her, though she knew she’d only really feel better once she saw him.
“I’m so glad to hear that, Neilo, thank you so much for saving his life.”
“Again.”
“Again,” agreed Yellta with a small laugh.
“Now we just have to hope and pray that that tin-plated tyrant doesn’t zap down looking for a round two.”
Yellta suddenly remembered the message and asked: “Will he be able to travel tomorrow?”