A/N: Okay, I am really hoping I'll get the next chapter of GA out soon, but in the meantime, here's another oneshot. Specifically, one about my latest OC. This was originally going to be part of my "Scraps and Oneshots" collection, but it was too thought out and well developed to stick there.
A little background on this OC: A little while ago, Familiar47 started writing a wonderful IZ fic called "Kill Zim" (which you should all read if you haven't already). As part of that story, he created a group of OCs who are the children of Tallest Miyuki and his OC Tallest Splorchamheimer. For some reason, he asked for help from his readers to create one of those characters; feeling generous, I sent him a basic character outline, not thinking that anything would come of it.
Imagine my surprise when he contacted me back; apparently, I was the only one who bothered to submit a character, so I won by default.
So, we discussed it back and forth for a little while, working out details about the character, until we finally had a finished product. And while Familiar has been using the character in his work, he still gave me sole ownership. So, I thought it was about time I used him.
Now then, with that out of the way, I introduce you, ladies and gentlemen, to the one, the only, Invader Grimrair!
Disclaimer: All canon Invader Zim concepts and characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez. All the OCs that appear or are mentioned in this story belong to either me or Familiar47.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
A "Grim" Mission
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
The Massive, Bridge
Irken Invader Grimrair – Grim, to the few people he considered friends – knelt before the Tallest, leaders of his species, silently wishing he was somewhere else.
Most Invaders, or any Irken for that matter, would have been overjoyed to be summoned by the Tallest in order to carry out a mission for them. But Grim dreaded these times when he was called before the Tallest – make no mistake, he was loyal to the Empire. But, quite frankly, the current Tallest annoyed the hell out of him.
Case in point – despite summoning him for a supposedly urgent mission, the Tallest hadn't even acknowledged Grim's presence. They were too busy stuffing their faces with doughnuts and laughing stupidly over something; Grim was pretty sure he heard Zim's name among the mumbles coming out of their full mouths, so he must have just missed one of the Defective's "mission reports".
'And they call themselves our leaders,' Grim thought with a silent sneer, 'they're both disgraces to maneem's legacy. At least Spork showed signs of potential before he went and got himself eaten.'
Grim cleared his throat, which seemed to finally get the Tallest's attention. Turning to look at the Invader kneeling before them, they blinked a bit before apparently remembering who he was and why he was there.
"Ah, Invader Grimrair," Red greeted as he tossed his mostly empty bag of doughnuts away to be consumed by the bridge technicians, "So nice of you to come on such short notice."
"Of course, my Tallest," Grim said, "I'm always ready to serve the Empire in whatever way I can."
Red frowned; he had noticed a long time ago that Grimrair always said he was serving "the Empire", and never "the Tallest". Maybe Red was just being paranoid, but it was one of the reasons he never fully trusted Grim – the other of course being that he was a Defective. Oh, not a mental Defective like Zim (so far as they could tell, anyway) but a physical one. Grim suffered from heterochromia; his right eye was red, while the left was the same rare shade of blue that Tallest Miyuki had had. Frankly, it creeped Red out.
But, that didn't have anything to do with what was going on now, and besides, Grim really was good at what he did, so Red shook his unease off.
"Well good," he said, "Because this mission we have for you is of the utmost importance. That's why we've picked you to carry it out."
"I thought it was because we picked his name out of a bowl?" Purple asked, which earned him a sharp elbow jab to the ribs from his partner.
"Shut it!" Red hissed out of the corner of his mouth, before turning back to an amused looking Grim, "As I was saying, this mission is of the upmost importance to the security of the Empire."
"Do you want me to kill Zim?" Grim asked.
"No… well, maybe later," the crimson Tallest replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Actually, we've had a security breach on Vort. One of the imprisoned scientists there escaped; our intelligence suspects that he's hiding with one of those resistance militias on one of the moons."
"And I still say we should blow the whole moon up," Purple spoke up, "Those militias keep popping up, and before you know it, we're going to have another Resisty – except not stupid!"
"Oh, would you calm down?" Red snapped, "That's not going to happen, and besides, blowing the moon up would be a waste of resources. It's easier to just deal with these little rebellions when they pop up."
"If I may ask, my Tallest," Grim interrupted, "But what makes this escaped Vortian such a threat?"
"Well," Red admitted, "It's not so much him as the information he apparently hacked and stole when he broke out. Apparently, it's so top secret, the Control Brains won't even tell us what it was."
"Yeah, can you believe that?" Purple asked as he opened up a bag of curly fries and started stuffing his face again, "Huh? Huh? Huh?"
Grim raised an antenna at that. The only reason the Control Brains wouldn't tell the Tallest something would be if a previous Tallest had had the information sealed personally.
'Hmm, whatever it is, it really must be important,' he thought, 'Which means we can't just let it get out into the universe like this. I doubt it would be good for the Empire's stability.'
"I'll leave immediately, my Tallest," Grim said as he got to his feet, "Rest assured, whatever information this Vortian has stolen will be retrieved."
"Good," Red said, "We'll have all our information on him transmitted to your ship. Now move it! …And someone get me some nachos!"
"Yeah!" Purple added through a mouthful of fries.
Rolling his eyes, Grim took his leave, heading towards the hanger bay and his personal Spittle Runner.
XXXXXXX
Grim's Spittle Runner, En Route To Vortian Moon Polna
While the Runner's A.I. ran the ship on autopilot towards its destination, Grim finished changing from his standard Invader uniform into his battle armor; he wasn't anticipating much of a fight, but he was going to be prepared. After snapping the last clasp of the purple-and-black armor into place, Grim reached for the last piece of his wardrobe – his lucky poncho.
Most people, Irken and non-Irken alike, were surprised and confused whenever they saw him wearing the odd garment. Some thought he was making a fashion statement, while others thought he used it to hide the weapons he carried on his belt. And while that latter belief was partially accurate, the truth was much simpler; Tallest Miyuki, his maneem – his mother – had knitted it for him. It was as plain as that.
Adjusting the poncho so that it settled comfortably, Grim sat down onto his chair. Leaving the autopilot on, he had the console bring up the data on his target.
The Vortian was a former computer programmer named Yev Baron, a distant cousin of the infamous pirate captain Shen Baron. Grim couldn't help but smirk at that; he wondered how his sister would feel if she knew he was going to arrest and/or kill her mate's cousin. She'd probably chew his antennae out (possibly literally) for being a lapdog who did whatever the Tallest asked of him, but then back off because she couldn't stop him from doing it anyway.
Turning his attention back to the data on the screen in front of him, Grim found that Baron had actually been initially imprisoned by his own people for hacking government and corporate systems and selling the stolen information on Vort's black market. After the Invasion, the Irkens had sorted him in with the rest of the science prisoners, though he had been marked low priority and locked up in a minimum-security facility.
'Which would probably explain how he so easily escaped,' Grim thought, 'Considering how skilled he must be to have hacked something sealed by the Control Brains, he should have been placed in a higher security setting.'
A beeping from the console caught Grim's attention. Minimizing the information of Baron, he brought up the main screen – the computer was alerting him that he would be arriving in the Vort system within ten minutes. Pulling Baron's information back up, Grim searched for where the Empire's intelligence reports suggested the rogue Vortian was hiding.
"Hmm," he muttered, "Let's see… the moon Polna, northern hemisphere, somewhere in the general vicinity of the mining settlement of Kreckna. Shouldn't be hard to find him from there."
XXXXXXX
Vortian Moon Polna, Mining Settlement Kreckna, City Slums
"Okay, so this is going to be harder than I thought," Grim grumbled to himself as he made his way through one of the city's back alleys. He'd been on Polna for over two hours now, and he hadn't found anyone who had even heard of Yev Baron, let alone know where to find him. Grim had thought checking the slums would be his best bet – in his experience, the slums of corporate-based cities were always the best place to find the type of underworld groups (like the local anti-Irken militias/pseudo-rebels) that Baron would need help from to hide from the Empire.
But after hitting almost two dozen bars, offering both rewards and threats to the locals in order to try and get information, he had nothing. And Kreckna was a large city; at this rate, he'd never find Baron.
He was seriously considering telling the Tallest to just go through with Purple's suggestion and blast the city and the surrounding countryside from orbit until it was molten slag, just to make sure they got the little kisgaree. But Red would never go for that – Polna, and specifically Kreckna, was a major source and refinery of Unobtanium, the key material in the Phlebotinum alloy used to create the ships of the Armada. If the facilities here were destroyed, they would most certainly have to be rebuilt, and that would be extremely expensive. And since Red was such a tightwad when it came to spending monies, he'd never want that to happen.
'Besides,' Grim thought, 'Then I'd have to admit I couldn't find Baron, and I sooner be locked in a room with a bunch of rabid Venirans than ever admit to not being able to find one simple Vortian.'
Grim's train of thought was cut off by the sound of a can being kicked somewhere behind him. Stopping in place, Grim slowly moved his head to glance over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a Vortian disappearing into the early-nighttime shadows forming at the entrance of the alley. Frowning, Grim turned his attention back to his front, now noticing a pair of Vortians slowly walking down the alley in his direction. Rolling his eyes at the obvious trap, he let his hands (hidden under his poncho) drift towards the weapons on his belt.
"Well, lookie what we got here, Slef," the Vortian on the right said, "An Irken out all by his lonesome."
"He must think he's pretty tough stuff, Fis," his friend replied, "Running around our moon unprotected – and dressed like that."
"Oh, and why should I be afraid?" Grim asked calmly, "The Empire's crushed you fools, and within your own cities those of you we've been gracious enough not to imprison are terrified worms who wouldn't be a threat to an amoeba. Besides, I'm a trained Invader – what do you goats think you can do to me?"
The pair of Vortians frowned at the racial slur, but then Fis smirked.
"Well, you never know. Someone might just sneak up behind you, and shoot you in the back."
As he finished saying that obvious cue, the distinct sound of a plasma pistol charging came from behind Grim. Normally, a person hearing that sound in a situation like this would only have about three or four seconds to live. But, seeing as Grim had seen this coming, it was all the warning he needed.
Springing into the air and back flipping, Grim landed behind the third Vortian who had attempted to sneak up on him. As the startled Vortian spun around to try and shoot him again, Grim swung an arm out, tightly gripping his weapon of choice – a Phlebotinum sickle that would have been capable of cutting through just about anything even without the raw energy that its blade generated. Therefore, it was more than enough to cut through the unfortunate Vortian's arm, sending his gun – and the hand holding it – flying through the air. As the Vortian stared at the stump of his arm – cauterized by the energy of the sickle – he was too shocked to move as Grim pulled out a second sickle in his other hand and brought its blade up through the Vortian's jaw and into his skull.
Pulling his sickle free, Grim let the dying Vortian drop to the ground before turning to his two companions, both of whose jaws had dropped in shock. Slowly twirling both sickles casually, Grim smirked at them.
"So, who's next?" he asked.
Slef gave a girly shriek and turned to run; however, Grim flung one of the sickles at him, striking him in the lower leg, causing him to collapse to the ground, screaming in pain. Fis, apparently thinking his friend's distress was a proper distraction, pulled out a knife and charged at Grim.
Grim caught the knife on the blade of his remaining sickle, the inferior Vortian metal bending and melting from the contact. Fis struck out with his other hand, but Grim caught the fist in his own free hand and twisted it. As the sudden pain caught the Vortian off guard, Grim pushed his knife away and swung the sickle low. The curve of the blade caught Fis on the leg; the momentum knocked him off balance, even as the energized metal cut through the flesh and bone like tissue paper.
"Gah!" Fis screamed in pain as he collapsed to the ground. Though he was quickly silenced as Grim brought the sickle down on him, hitting him straight between his beady eyes.
Pulling the blade free and deactivating the energy flow, Grim turned his attention to Slef, who was attempting to crawl out of the alley. Walking over to him, Grim placed a foot on the Vortian's back and pushed him to the ground. Ignoring Slef's squeals of pain, Grim examined the sickle sticking out of his leg; the blade had penetrated just below the knee, its tip sticking just a little out of the other side of the leg and small puffs of smoke rising from the surrounding skin and flesh as it was cooked by the sickle's energy. Turning his attention back to the Vortian's head, Grim was about to speak, when he noticed something. Reaching down to Slef's collar, Grim pulled it back, revealing a set of symbols tattooed into Slef's neck.
"Hmm, the Free Vortian Army," Grim muttered, "The local rebel cell. I take it then that this wasn't a random attack?"
"Go to the deepest hell!" Slef snarled, before yelling in pain as Grim grabbed the sickle and twisted it.
"You know," Grim said casually, "This is a relatively minor wound. I'm sure if I remove my weapon, you'll recover just fine, with nothing more to show for it than a scar and a permanent limp. In fact, if you tell me what I want to know, I can guarantee it. Now then, are you the group that's been hiding Yev Baron?"
"Never heard of him," the Vortian grunted, only to receive another twist of the sickle in return.
"Not the answer I want to hear," Grim said softly, "And you should be aware that this is the least I can do to you. I happen to personally know a homicidal maniac with a sadistic streak the size of the Massive; want me to show you a trick he taught me involving your eyes?"
Slef's eyes were wide, and he was quite visibly sweating. Not getting a response, Grim shrugged and pulled a butterfly knife off his belt. Flipping it open, he leaned down towards the Vortian's face and held the knife over his eye.
"Okay, just hold still. You may feel a slight pinch, followed by an excruciating amount of pain…"
"Wait!" Slef shouted, "Baron's hiding out in the abandoned mining camp two miles to the south of here that the FVA uses as a safe house. It's lightly guarded; we were just going to keep him there for a few days until we could smuggle him out of the system."
"And the attack on me?" Grim asked.
"He warned us that the Tallest would send someone after him. When me and the others heard you were looking for him… well, it seemed like the best thing to do."
"So your superiors don't know I'm here?"
"No," Slef muttered, "They would have just told us to stand down so we didn't risk being exposed."
"You would have been wise to listen to them," Grim said as he closed his butterfly knife and pocketed it. He then grabbed the sickle again, and without a word, yanked it out. Slef screamed in pain as Grim deactivated the energy flow in the sickle and placed it back on his belt.
"Oh, stop whining," Grim said as he started walking away, "Like I said, you'll live."
Slef stared in confusion as he watched the Irken leave.
"Y-You're just leaving me here?" he asked, not believing what he was seeing.
Grim paused and looked over his shoulder at the injured Vortian, then gave a slight shrug.
"I said I'd let you live if you told me what I needed to know," he replied, "And since you did, I will. I always keep my word – I'm not a savage."
With that, he turned around and started walking away again. Slef continued to stare, even as he painfully grabbed hold of a nearby trash container and pulled himself to his feet. He continued to dumbly watch Grim walk away, until his hand drifted against the plasma pistol tucked into his belt and hidden under his shirt. Feeling like hitting himself for forgetting he was armed, Slef whipped the gun out and fired a quick shot at Grim's retreating back.
Only for the Irken to duck and avoid the bolt of plasma, then spin around and flick his arm in Slef's direction. By the time the Vortian realized Grim had been holding something in his hand, the butterfly knife had crossed the distance between them and imbedded itself in his neck. As he fell to the ground gagging on his own blood, Grim frowned at the collapsing body.
"However," he added, "If someone attempts to shoot me in the back after I just spared his life, the ungrateful shoo-shen voids any promises I made him."
That being said, Grim left Slef's body, continuing on his way to complete his mission.
XXXXXXX
FVA Safe House, Abandoned Mining Facility
Two Vortians in military camouflage stood side by side in front of the door leading into a decrepit building in the center of the rundown facility that sat in the middle of a barren field several miles outside Kreckna. It had been simple enough for the FVA to acquire the property – this particular mine had been abandoned during the Invasion of Vort itself when everyone not on the main planet had attempted to escape the system while they still could. All the equipment had been abandoned, generators included; it had been a simple matter of the FVA soldiers bringing them back online to make the place acceptable for temporary use again.
Of course, none of this was on the minds of the guards. Especially not when Grim, previously hidden in the shadows of the surrounding buildings, leapt out to land directly in front of them. Jumping in surprise, the Vortians attempted to bring their weapons to bear, but before they could, Grim struck out with his sickles, slitting their throats. As they fell to the ground, Grim rummaged through their pockets until he found an access card. Snagging it, he slid it through the control panel next to the door, making the door slide open.
Dashing inside, Grim began swiftly but quietly moving down the hall; if the information he'd gathered was correct, the central hall of the facility was down this hall. From there, he should be able to find his way to the living quarters where Baron was no doubt being held. Coming up to the door leading to the main hall, Grim opened it with the access card and entered the room.
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd arrive."
Grim stopped and stared in wide-eyed shock. About a dozen FVA soldiers stood in the moderately sized room, fully armed and all pointing their weapons at him. Seated behind the group at the nearly empty room's only table was the one who had spoken, the overweight purple-skinned Vortian known as Yev Baron.
"Well, well," he continued, "When my benefactors here lost contact with their men in the city, they figured out pretty quickly that the Tallest had sent someone after me. Still, who would have thought that it would turn out to be the esteemed Invader Grimrair?"
"You've heard of me?" Grim asked, quickly regaining his calm despite the room full of weapons aimed at him.
"But of course," Baron said with a smirk, "You're known as one of the most intelligent Irkens alive, perhaps one of the greatest strategists who ever lived; and yet, despite such perfect leadership qualities, you've never sought promotion to Fleet Commander, instead settling for serving in the field and occasionally – such as this instance – acting as the Tallests' personal mercenary. I've always been curious about that, I must admit."
"I choose to lead by example," Grim replied, "I'd rather live as a true warrior than sit safely behind a desk."
"Fair enough," Baron replied, before an evil smirk lit up his features, "Though I shouldn't have expected different from a product of Project Renaissance."
Grim was fairly sure the cardiac section of his squeedilyspooch stopped beating at those words.
"…What did you just say?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"What do you think the information I stole was?" Baron asked with a mocking laugh, "The Renaissance Project – created, overseen, and run by Tallest Miyuki herself when she was still just Chief Science Advisor to Tallest Splorchamheimer. Supposedly an experiment on Irken smeets, designed to create the perfect soldier.
"Aside from you, there were four other smeets involved in the project: There was Envon, who currently holds the position of one of the Armada's only Admirals, making him second only to the Tallest in terms of military power; fitting really, seeing as he's just as good a leader as you are, if not better. He's also incredibly tall, less than an inch shorter than Third Tallest Gor – rumor has it that Second Tallest Arnor has been petitioning the Control Brains to create a position of Fourth Tallest just for him.
"Then there's Skullene. Aside from being quite possibly the hottest Irken alive, she's one of the most skilled Invaders in the Empire… well, she was, until she rejected Tallest Red's offer of being his mate. And since he's petty, Red retaliated by having her reclassified as a Pleasure Drone and banished to planet Consortia. Then she escaped and tried to kill him on Devastis, only to fail due to that blackout that Zim caused. She was imprisoned for treason at the Painomania Prison Complex, but escaped after killing the warden, Admiral Rizz."
'Her one anti-Imperial act that I've ever agreed with,' Grim thought, 'That vrik na tishanti deserved far worse for the things he did to her.'
Baron continued, "After escaping, Skullene then went underground, and has since made her living as a bounty hunter. In fact, from what I hear, she's actually quite – shall we say, intimate? – with my cousin Shen, the pirate."
"Please, don't remind me," Grim said with a groan, "It's bad enough she's betrayed the Empire, but to lower herself to mating with a skaatel…"
"Moving on!" Baron said with a laugh, apparently enjoying Grim's discomfort, "There's also Invader Hellion – possibly the only Irken whose body count exceeds Zim's. Of course, unlike Zim, Hellion intentionally massacres his fellow Irkens; rumor has it that he's a cannibal, and actually eats his victims."
"Actually, that's true," Grim replied, before mentally adding, 'He also wants to mate with Skullene, but there's no need to tell you that.'
"Ah," Baron replied, looking quite disturbed. Quickly regaining his composure, he added, "That would probably explain why the Tallest attempted to lock him up, only for him to slaughter those sent after him and disappear into the galactic underworld.
"And, lastly, there's Paneece. A computer programmer of such skill that she's said to be capable of hacking the Control Brains themselves. Frankly, she sounds like a female after my own heart – unfortunately, it seems no one knows where she is. She dropped off the grid around the same time Hellion did, and it would seem she's gifted enough to keep anyone from finding her."
"You do realize I know all of this already, don't you?" Grim asked, "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but-"
"But you want to know what I found really interesting about all this?" Baron asked, seemingly ignoring Grim's question, "Beyond knowing that five of the most skilled Irkens alive were all created by the same project, the truly fascinating thing I found buried underneath all that coding and all those firewalls was that you five weren't the test subjects of Project Renaissance – you were the result!"
As Grim felt his blood run cold, several of the FVA soldiers – all of whom had been following the conversation with varying levels of interest – risked a glance over their shoulders at their employer/guest, who was grinning demonically at the Invader.
"That's right, I know the truth!" Baron shouted with a maniacal laugh, "The whole reason that Project Renaissance was conceived was because Miyuki and Splorchamheimer fell in love. Miyuki had her body altered, returned to the way nature intended the Irken race to be before millennia of genetic alterations. She restored her ability to give birth, in the belief that her little family would one day serve as an example to the rest of the Empire, and bring the species back to the way it used to be, before the decadence set in. Too bad she and Splorchamheimer both died before they could reach that point.
"You know, I'm really looking forward to releasing this information to the general public once I'm safely out of the system – it'll be interesting to see the average Irken's reaction to such knowledge."
"That's not going to happen," Grim hissed.
"Really?" Baron asked, "And may I ask why?"
"Simple – I could have let you live with just the basic knowledge of Project Renaissance, and of me and my siblings. But since you know the truth… well, if that information were to get out, the Control Brains would declare us all unforgivably Defective. They would hunt us down and kill us; I've already lost my parents, I will not let anything happen to my brothers and sisters as well. Therefore, none of you are leaving this room alive."
"Ha!" Baron laughed sardonically as the FVA members charged up their plasma rifles, "You may be good, Grimrair, but do you really think you can take on all of us?"
"Pretty much, yeah," Grim replied, suddenly whipping a hand out from under his poncho and flinging a metal capsule into the air. The Vortians all instinctually followed it with their eyes, and were therefore all looking at the flash-bomb when it detonated. Momentarily blinded, none of them could react as Grim dashed forward, sickles outstretched. Stabbing each into the chest of a Vortian, Grim twisted, transferring his momentum into the movement. As the dying Vortians were flipped into the air, Grim ripped the sickles free and jumped up, spinning into a double kick. His feet hit the bodies and sent them flying, slamming into several of the other recovering Vortians.
Jumping towards one of the resulting heaps, Grim struck with a series of furious swipes at his defenseless targets, stopping only when he noticed Baron attempting to sneak out the door. Not allowing that, Grim tossed one of the sickles through the air; the blade struck and sank into the door's control panel, frying it and thus sealing the door. As Baron pounded uselessly on the door, Grim leapt out of the way of plasma fire from some of the remaining FVA members.
One of them charged at Grim with his rifle raised like a club, only for the Invader to dodge and grab one of the Vortian's horns with his free hand. As the Vortian shrieked in pain, Grim used their momentum to spin them both around, placing the Vortian between himself and the ones shooting at him. As the unfortunate Vortian was fried, Grim tossed him at the shooters, once again knocking them all into a pile.
As the remaining Vortians attempted to pull themselves out of the clump they found themselves in, Grim flipped a concealed switch the handle of his sickle. With a barely audible click, the front half of the handle swung 180 degrees outwards on a hidden hinge, doubling the length of the handle. Meanwhile, the blade curved out, increasing its own length and glowing brightly as its energy flow was also increased.
Giving his scythe an experimental swing, Grim griped it tightly with both hands as he waited for the FVA members to recover and notice the change. And when they did, he repressed a laugh at the looks of pants-pissing fear that appeared on their faces. He almost felt sorry for them.
"Almost" being the key word.
With a small battle cry, Grim leapt into the middle of the group, swinging widely with the scythe. Two Vortians were beheaded, while several others were struck in the head by the scythe's pole and sent crashing to the floor. One of the Vortians still standing pulled out a knife and rushed him from behind, but Grim merely slammed the scythe backwards, the staff catching the Vortian between the legs. As he collapsed in pain, Grim spun around and buried the scythe in the Vortian's forehead.
Pulling the blade free and letting the body collapse, Grim glanced at the remaining militia soldiers, most of who were backing away from him in fear. Deciding to put them of out of their misery, he leapt through the air, landing on the table. Pulling a grenade out of his PAK, he tossed it towards the group, before jumping back and kicking the table over to form a makeshift barricade. Seconds later, the grenade detonated, flaming debris and a limb or two hitting the table.
Hopping over the table, Grim surveyed the damage and raised an antenna as he noticed that Baron had somehow survived the blast unharmed and had just pulled the sickle out of the door's control panel.
"S-Stay back," he said, clumsily holding the sickle and pointing it at Grim in what was obviously meant to be a threatening gesture. It just made Grim laugh.
"You really think you can scare me, Baron?" he asked as he slowly began walking towards the Vortian, who backed up into the wall as he tried to get away, "I just wiped the floor with people who actually had some combat training. What makes you think you can do anything to me, you spineless worm?"
Before Baron could say anything, there was a sudden nigh-animalistic scream from behind Grim. Spinning around, the Invader saw one of the FVA fighters – bloody and burned from the grenade – charging at him with a wild look in his eyes and a combat knife in his hand. He swung wildly at Grim, who easily blocked with the staff of his scythe and then drove his knee into the Vortian's chest. As the Vortian collapsed, Grim quickly spun the scythe around and took his head off.
"Now then," he said as he started turning back to Baron, "Where were-"
He was cut off as Baron, clearly in a panic, brought Grim's own sickle down on his head.
"GAAAHHH!" Grim screamed, as the sickle cut his right antenna in half and sliced through his skull, cutting clean through his eye.
"Not bad for a 'spineless worm', huh?" Baron sneered as Grim fell to his knees, dropping his scythe and clutching both hands to his bleeding and smoking face, "I'm almost disappointed. You almost got me there, but then you slip up like this? What a shame."
Lifting the sickle and preparing to bring it down, he asked with a sneer, "Any last words, Invader?"
"Just… this," Grim muttered through his pain. And before Baron could blink, all four of Grim's spider legs shot out from underneath his poncho, slamming directly into Baron's chest and burying themselves in his organs. Choking in surprise and coughing up blood, the Vortian dropped the sickle and stared down at the metal spears sticking into his chest.
"You forgot… about these," Grim said, his uninjured eye glittering with dark mirth, "And that they… have guns."
Baron's eyes widened, but that was all he had a chance to do before the plasma blasters in the tips of Grim's spider legs discharged. The Vortian couldn't even scream before the bulk of his body was vaporized, the remaining bits being scattered across the room.
Retracting his spider legs, Grim kept one hand on his eye, the other hand grabbing the dropped sickle and placing it back on his belt. He then reached down and grabbed his scythe, lifting it up as he started getting to his feet. And just as he was about to retract it into sickle mode, the door to the room was knocked down as several more FVA soldiers ran into the room. The lead Vortian opened his mouth, no doubt to shout some sort of demand… but then he noticed the bodies scattered around the room and Grim rising up from the ground, scythe in hand and framed by the flames left over from the grenade explosion. Lowering his hand from his face, Grim let them all get a good look at the partially cauterized wound that used to be his eye, and then said one simple sentence.
"This is the part where you run away."
The Vortians complied, dropping their weapons and nearly knocking each other over in their panic as they rushed out the door and down the hall, screaming their heads off. Chuckling at the reaction, Grim slowly started after them, thankful for the painkillers his PAK was pumping into him even as it got to work on fixing his injuries.
XXXXXXX
Planet Irk, Bar, Some Time Later
"Fortunately, my PAK handled most of the damage, and the doctors were able to give me a replacement eye," Grim said as he sipped from his glass of Vortian firewhiskey and put it down, glancing at the other Irken sitting across the table from him. Said Irken was almost a foot taller than Grim, his eyes a darker shade of blue than Grim's left eye. He wore a shirt of the same color and designed like an Invader's uniform shirt, but longer in the back, reaching to down past his knees and giving him a sort of cape.
"So how come you didn't get a replacement antenna too?" Admiral Envon asked his brother, gesturing to the twitching stump atop his head, "And for that matter, why haven't you had that scar removed?"
Grim shrugged, leaning back in his chair and reaching up to rub the scar running from his scalp to just below his eye.
"They're reminders," he explained, "I got sloppy during that fight – I cared more about intimidating Baron and stroking my ego than finishing him off. So, this scar and the severed antenna will remind me to always be on guard… plus, it makes me look more dashing, don't you think?"
Envon snorted.
"Whatever you say, Grim. By the way, what'd you do with the data on Project Renaissance that Baron stole?"
"Oh, I'm afraid I 'accidentally' deleted it all," Grim replied, "The Tallest weren't happy about it, but I assured them that the information wouldn't be getting out, so they let it slide."
"Well, I'll be going then," Envon said, getting to his feet and making his way towards the door, before stopping and turning back to Grim, "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Will you be heading to Pan's place to watch Skullene in Battle Royale?"
"Is Hellion going to be there?" Grim asked.
"I assume so."
"Then I'll pass. I'll still watch Skull's performance, but the last thing I need is to watch our brother drooling over our sister."
"Fair enough," Envon said, once again turning to leave, "See you around, Grim."
Grim watched his brother leave, then picked his drink back up and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the table.
"Glory to the Empire," he said to no one in particular, lifting his drink in toast, "Long may it stand."
The few other patrons of the bar lifted their own drinks and gave halfhearted cheers to the toast. Grim merely smirked at the response, sipping at his drink in contentment.
Life was good.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
A/N: Well, the ending was a little lackluster, but I hope you all enjoyed the story anyway. I had fun with this, and hopefully it will finally break my writer's block on GA.
Oh, and that bit near the end between Envon and Grim was a reference to Familiar's entry for Battle Royale. Another bit of his work you should all check out (in fact, just look up all his stuff; it's all good).
Read and review!