Post by Rainstorm & Squirtle on Mar 16, 2006 7:48:21 GMT -5
The Shadow of Conquest - a short story prequel for Episode 9
Spite’s foot was on the neck of the enemy Commander, slowly crushing the life out of the alien who had dared defy the conqueror’s arrival.
“General, we have the intel you wanted” said a field tech running up to him.
“Just as well” Spite answered, quickly stepped down with his full weight and killing the alien. “If it took much longer you would be in the same position as this alien filth.”
The tech visibly gulped, the General’s cruelty was near legendary whether his victim be friend or foe. He was not known as the Scourge of the Zeta Territory just because he wanted a grand title, it was one that was whispered to small children to frighten them on a thousand alien worlds, ‘go to sleep or Spite will get you’, ‘eat your dinner or Spite will come and get you’. The General had crossed from reality to legend for countless civilisations, yet for many more the reality was all too harsh. More than a hundred worlds lay decimated in his wake, a path of destruction and victories that led all the way from Cybertron to the Zeta Quadrant.
The General was a military strategist without equal, a battle knowledge forged in the fires of war in many campaigns stretching back to the Great War itself. He had fought alongside the best of them and broken the lines of many more.
“It’s just as you suspected sir. The power vacuum has left an opening so wide a Mamorian herd could move through it” the tech said snapping to attention smartly, apparently pleased he could deliver some good news.
“Good, good.” General Spite said looking pleased before turning to his second in commander. “Finish annihilating the rest of the resistance and take what we came for. We leave for Cybertron at first light.”
The second in command headed off to carry out the orders and the tech turned shaply on his heel to head back to the landing vessel.
“A word” the General said, stopping the tech who stopped and turned back around slowly. “If I wanted your colourful analogies when giving me a report on a battle field I would have asked for them.”
”S..sorry sir..” the technician replied.
“Sorry isn’t good enough boy. In the field there is but one punishment for poor behaviour” The General said with a smile before there was a flash of red light from Spite’s hand. The tech reached up and clutched at his throat before he toppled backwards, his head rolling away from the neat wound across his neck.
“Tell the devil that Spite sent you”
Spite’s foot was on the neck of the enemy Commander, slowly crushing the life out of the alien who had dared defy the conqueror’s arrival.
“General, we have the intel you wanted” said a field tech running up to him.
“Just as well” Spite answered, quickly stepped down with his full weight and killing the alien. “If it took much longer you would be in the same position as this alien filth.”
The tech visibly gulped, the General’s cruelty was near legendary whether his victim be friend or foe. He was not known as the Scourge of the Zeta Territory just because he wanted a grand title, it was one that was whispered to small children to frighten them on a thousand alien worlds, ‘go to sleep or Spite will get you’, ‘eat your dinner or Spite will come and get you’. The General had crossed from reality to legend for countless civilisations, yet for many more the reality was all too harsh. More than a hundred worlds lay decimated in his wake, a path of destruction and victories that led all the way from Cybertron to the Zeta Quadrant.
The General was a military strategist without equal, a battle knowledge forged in the fires of war in many campaigns stretching back to the Great War itself. He had fought alongside the best of them and broken the lines of many more.
“It’s just as you suspected sir. The power vacuum has left an opening so wide a Mamorian herd could move through it” the tech said snapping to attention smartly, apparently pleased he could deliver some good news.
“Good, good.” General Spite said looking pleased before turning to his second in commander. “Finish annihilating the rest of the resistance and take what we came for. We leave for Cybertron at first light.”
The second in command headed off to carry out the orders and the tech turned shaply on his heel to head back to the landing vessel.
“A word” the General said, stopping the tech who stopped and turned back around slowly. “If I wanted your colourful analogies when giving me a report on a battle field I would have asked for them.”
”S..sorry sir..” the technician replied.
“Sorry isn’t good enough boy. In the field there is but one punishment for poor behaviour” The General said with a smile before there was a flash of red light from Spite’s hand. The tech reached up and clutched at his throat before he toppled backwards, his head rolling away from the neat wound across his neck.
“Tell the devil that Spite sent you”