Disclaimer: I own no rights, in whole or part, to anything Resident Evil.
Capcom, a videogame company that is way too nice and friendly, and whose
company I have pumped way too much money into, for them to sue me. Capcom
owns Resident Evil, its plot, its name, and its characters. Also, George
Lucas owns Star Wars, its concepts, and its characters. I do not. ALSO, the
quickening described herein is property of whoever made the Highlander
movies. Cuz they rule. Word.
Neme-Sith
I. A not-so-long time ago, in a city kinda close to here, a Galactic Empire was mounting an assault on all planets, enforcing their evil rule on the poor citizenry, and generally being not nice people. This Empire had ruled for years and years, and no one was very happy about it, excepting of course the Empire itself. They were quite pleased with themselves, and how well they'd done. Well, I suppose their mommies were proud of them for making it so far in life, so they were probably happy as well. Come to think of it, yeah, pretty much the Empire guys and everyone they were related to, they were all pretty happy with themselves, very pleased people.
The defenders of this unhappy place, the Jedi, had been killed off long ago, except for maybe one or two completely insignificant "Badass Motha" Jedi Masters. But they were of no concern to the glorious Empire. The Empire was doing just fine on its own, thank you very much.
II. Life was boring in Tupelo, Mississippi. Much more boring than things were in, say, Raccoon City. Yep. Indeed, Nemesis had been quite bored since escaping the nuclear crater that was Raccoon City. It seemed the entirety of the S.T.A.R.S. team had fled to France, and France was one place Nemmy was quite unwilling to go, for he was frightened of croissants. It wasn't so much that he was frightened of flaky buttery goodness, but more his fear was in the pronunciation. You see, English was a hard enough language for the Nemesis to grasp, and he had only learned a few words so far, most of them having to do with death or destruction. He couldn't, for instance, apply for a job and say "S.T.A.R.S.. must kill..." that would get him nowhere. So Nemmy was quite frightened of trying to pronounce French things.
At any rate, the apartment he'd got was a pig sty. Nothing was cleaned in years and it was so very dusty, some of the lights didn't work, and the refrigerator had no door. He didn't mind all the cockroaches, they were kind of cool looking, but the fridge door definitely had to change. Nemesis himself was prancing delicately around the apartment dusting and vacuuming, things did not, after all, clean themselves. As he dusted one of the end tables, it was apparent that there was a drawer on it, that had not been visible in the inches of dust that had covered it.
With some hesitation, he opened the drawers and peered inside. Apparently someone had left a small cylindrical thingy in the drawer. It looked to be some sort of remote control, due to the fact that there were tons of little buttons all over it. He picked up the tube-shaped remote control and pressed what could only be the 'on' button, I mean. it was red after all. A beam of energy extended from the end of the tube, creating a sort of blade made entirely of light. Nemesis swung the blade a bit, testing it for balance and accuracy, a weapon was a weapon, no matter how one found it. It whirred and hummed as he swung it. This thing was damn cool.
"I see you've found yourself a lightsaber," spoke a voice from behind him, "the weapon of a Jedi, there is nothing so elegant and refined in the universe."
Nemesis turned and looked at the man. He spun the blade in a wide arc, circling once with a loud 'zeeeeoooom' and the robed man's head fell to the floor. A body, dressed in brown and tan robes, dropped to Nemesis's feet, headless. All of a sudden, electricity crackled, rushing over the walls and floors. The windows blew out of the apartment and papers got thrown everywhere as a wind swept up, well, at least he wouldn't have to finish dusting. The electricity arced and slammed into Nemesis as the dead Jedi's memories and powers flooded into Nemesis. Nemesis became much more powerful, and then, as quick as it had come, it was over, leaving Nemesis kneeling on the floor. He picked up the dead man's lighsaber along with his own, and then, he spoke.
"There can be only.. mmmmm... pancakes."
And with that said, Nemesis Nemmy McNemesis left the apartment, carrying two lightsabers on his belt.
III. "Sir! We've found the location of the missing Jedi Master Obesius Wark Kandubi."
The bridge of the starship Globular was sterile, pristine, very very clean. We're talking Mr. Clean had nothing on whoever cleaned this shiny stainless steel neo-futuristic spaceship, because damn man, the floors sparkled. All the people on the bridge of this starship wore pretty stereotypical uniforms of olive green or black, depending on their rank and importance in the plot. The commander who was being addressed was one of those very important men in a spiffy black uniform, so you could tell, he was important.
"Excellent job, lieutenant. Take us to the planet and get me a cup of coffee or I'll have you killed by the evil wielder of the Dark Side that happens to dwell on this very ship," he said. Commander Jinkins did so love to harass the crew. The lieutenant quivered and saluted, running off to make it so.
The door to the bridge hissed open and in walked a figure in a long black cloak. He wore a black hood over his head, more or less to prove not only his bad guy status, but his sheer bad-assery. A similar tubule to the Nemesis's hung from the man's belt, bouncing as he walked in. Jinkins saluted officially and barked out a 'sir!' The dark one simply nodded to him before speaking.
"I understand we've found Kandubi?" "Sir, yes sir." "And I assume we are on course to apprehend him?" "Sir yes sir." "Good. Excellent. Wonderful. Where the hell is my damn coffee?" "Coming sir."
IV. Nemesis sat in a Pancake house, wearing his overcoat and fedora. He was on his second stack of pancakes that morning, and he was feeling just fine about it. Pancakes were wonderful things, and Nemesis loved to eat them, not just because of their sugary syrupy goodness, but also because of the fact that they were warm and inviting, like a comfy place to sleep. So he sat there munching on pancakes happily, whistling a little ditty to himself merrily. This was the life. No one to stalk, nothing to do, and all the pancakes he cared to eat. Apparently people from the South weren't that upset with him being so hideously mutated and freakish. He was a pretty cool guy there.
That's when all the bad stuff happened. Men in white plastic armor, toting laser rifles kicked in the door, sending people ducking for cover all around the crowded restaurant. They leveled the gun barrels off at Nemesis and charged the energy packs meaningfully. It was at this point that Nemesis realized people didn't use the term nards nearly enough anymore. They were more likely to go with a hip cool updated term like bullocks. He also realized that if he didn't do something fast, he'd be switched from eating pancakes to eating hot plasmic death beams.
Nemesis spoke to the men without turning to look at them, or even missing a step in eating, "You... shouldn't.. have done this... punk. I'm... gonna... Wear your... entrails as a... S.K.I.R.T.. pansy."
The storm troopers took this as their invitation to open fire on Nemesis, but he was one step ahead. Using his newly-acquired Jedi powers, Nemesis was on his feet quickly, both lightsabers ignited, one in each hand. He deflected laser bolts back at the men who fired them, laying each and every storm trooper out in the first volley, before turning the sabers off and spinning them impressively on his index fingers.
"Yeah... that's... what I thought.. bitches."
Nemesis flicked a few bills to the woman at the cash register, adjusted his battered leather fedora, and headed out into the streets humming merrily to himself.
V. The dark one watched a screen, viewing Nemesis take out the platoon of storm troopers in under fifteen seconds. He then switched to a new screen, displaying the events from those fateful final nights of Raccoon City, showing Nemesis taking out a helicopter, killing policemen and women, and knitting a dandy fine scarf. This was one bad mother, and he had to be taken out if the Empire was to reign supreme over all planets everywhere. There was only one man on board with the capability of fighting a Jedi of the power and skill shown in Nemesis. And that man was he, the dark lord.
"Commander, prepare the jet. I'm going to take out this threat to Imperial reign myself."
"Sir, yes sir."
VI. He sat in his lounge chair, watching television. His favorite show was on, The Simpsons. Somehow, Homer reminded him of himself. only a whole lot smarter. After all, Homer could speak English. Nemesis, on the other hand, could not. Nemesis sat in his chair wearing cool radioactive rubber pants, boots, and a shirt that read 'Where's the Beef?' He chuckled at Homer's latest silly antic before looking up angrily. Something was moving outside, and no one got the drop on Nemesis. He moved like lightning, disappearing from the room.
The door opened and in strode the dark jedi in the black cloak. He carried his own evil lightsaber already ignited and ready for action. How quaint that the mutant beast had chosen to hide. The dark jedi surveyed the room, looking about, scrutinizing every little inch of the apartment. Potato chips by the television, half a case of Budweiser, it looks like the Simpsons was on. Was this truly a Jedi he was after, or just some tentacled slob? Well, let's see. No one on the recliner, no one in the bathroom, no one in the kitchen. hot damn that was one big fridge! Over nine feet tall and five across, and it seemed to be expanded out, like something exceptionally large had been haphazardly stuffed in. This guy was weird. Oh well. perhaps he was out doing something. The dark one would have to wait.
All at once, the boards serving as door to the fridge burst into splinters and Nemesis leapt out at the man, lightsabers ignited. The dark Jedi parried and countered and so the battle began, Nemesis expertly wielding his two blades with grace and beauty while the dark one desperately tried to keep up for his life.
"You know," parry thrust whirr, "I am Darth Maximus," weow voom skrack, "Most powerful of the Dark Jedi," voom voom crash, "I have killed greater Jedi than you or Kandubi."
"S.T.A.R.S.!!!" Nemesis roared as he brought both blades to bear. He began spinning them in deadly arcs and curves, creating a shell of light and energy about himself. Maximus stumbled back, unable to parry something so massively cool. Nemesis first extended a tentacle, firing bolts of pure lightning at the dark jedi, and then he diced the poor man and ate him.
VI. Back on the ship, the Commander had seen all of this happen. He saw the tragic death of his lord. He saw the monstrous beast of a Sith Lord destroy and devour the dark jedi who once presided over the ship, and he saw a golden shiny opportunity to run like hell, and so he did just that. The ship turned around and blasted off. The Empire was never heard from again in that quadrant of the galaxy.
VII. Nemesis ate him.
Neme-Sith
I. A not-so-long time ago, in a city kinda close to here, a Galactic Empire was mounting an assault on all planets, enforcing their evil rule on the poor citizenry, and generally being not nice people. This Empire had ruled for years and years, and no one was very happy about it, excepting of course the Empire itself. They were quite pleased with themselves, and how well they'd done. Well, I suppose their mommies were proud of them for making it so far in life, so they were probably happy as well. Come to think of it, yeah, pretty much the Empire guys and everyone they were related to, they were all pretty happy with themselves, very pleased people.
The defenders of this unhappy place, the Jedi, had been killed off long ago, except for maybe one or two completely insignificant "Badass Motha" Jedi Masters. But they were of no concern to the glorious Empire. The Empire was doing just fine on its own, thank you very much.
II. Life was boring in Tupelo, Mississippi. Much more boring than things were in, say, Raccoon City. Yep. Indeed, Nemesis had been quite bored since escaping the nuclear crater that was Raccoon City. It seemed the entirety of the S.T.A.R.S. team had fled to France, and France was one place Nemmy was quite unwilling to go, for he was frightened of croissants. It wasn't so much that he was frightened of flaky buttery goodness, but more his fear was in the pronunciation. You see, English was a hard enough language for the Nemesis to grasp, and he had only learned a few words so far, most of them having to do with death or destruction. He couldn't, for instance, apply for a job and say "S.T.A.R.S.. must kill..." that would get him nowhere. So Nemmy was quite frightened of trying to pronounce French things.
At any rate, the apartment he'd got was a pig sty. Nothing was cleaned in years and it was so very dusty, some of the lights didn't work, and the refrigerator had no door. He didn't mind all the cockroaches, they were kind of cool looking, but the fridge door definitely had to change. Nemesis himself was prancing delicately around the apartment dusting and vacuuming, things did not, after all, clean themselves. As he dusted one of the end tables, it was apparent that there was a drawer on it, that had not been visible in the inches of dust that had covered it.
With some hesitation, he opened the drawers and peered inside. Apparently someone had left a small cylindrical thingy in the drawer. It looked to be some sort of remote control, due to the fact that there were tons of little buttons all over it. He picked up the tube-shaped remote control and pressed what could only be the 'on' button, I mean. it was red after all. A beam of energy extended from the end of the tube, creating a sort of blade made entirely of light. Nemesis swung the blade a bit, testing it for balance and accuracy, a weapon was a weapon, no matter how one found it. It whirred and hummed as he swung it. This thing was damn cool.
"I see you've found yourself a lightsaber," spoke a voice from behind him, "the weapon of a Jedi, there is nothing so elegant and refined in the universe."
Nemesis turned and looked at the man. He spun the blade in a wide arc, circling once with a loud 'zeeeeoooom' and the robed man's head fell to the floor. A body, dressed in brown and tan robes, dropped to Nemesis's feet, headless. All of a sudden, electricity crackled, rushing over the walls and floors. The windows blew out of the apartment and papers got thrown everywhere as a wind swept up, well, at least he wouldn't have to finish dusting. The electricity arced and slammed into Nemesis as the dead Jedi's memories and powers flooded into Nemesis. Nemesis became much more powerful, and then, as quick as it had come, it was over, leaving Nemesis kneeling on the floor. He picked up the dead man's lighsaber along with his own, and then, he spoke.
"There can be only.. mmmmm... pancakes."
And with that said, Nemesis Nemmy McNemesis left the apartment, carrying two lightsabers on his belt.
III. "Sir! We've found the location of the missing Jedi Master Obesius Wark Kandubi."
The bridge of the starship Globular was sterile, pristine, very very clean. We're talking Mr. Clean had nothing on whoever cleaned this shiny stainless steel neo-futuristic spaceship, because damn man, the floors sparkled. All the people on the bridge of this starship wore pretty stereotypical uniforms of olive green or black, depending on their rank and importance in the plot. The commander who was being addressed was one of those very important men in a spiffy black uniform, so you could tell, he was important.
"Excellent job, lieutenant. Take us to the planet and get me a cup of coffee or I'll have you killed by the evil wielder of the Dark Side that happens to dwell on this very ship," he said. Commander Jinkins did so love to harass the crew. The lieutenant quivered and saluted, running off to make it so.
The door to the bridge hissed open and in walked a figure in a long black cloak. He wore a black hood over his head, more or less to prove not only his bad guy status, but his sheer bad-assery. A similar tubule to the Nemesis's hung from the man's belt, bouncing as he walked in. Jinkins saluted officially and barked out a 'sir!' The dark one simply nodded to him before speaking.
"I understand we've found Kandubi?" "Sir, yes sir." "And I assume we are on course to apprehend him?" "Sir yes sir." "Good. Excellent. Wonderful. Where the hell is my damn coffee?" "Coming sir."
IV. Nemesis sat in a Pancake house, wearing his overcoat and fedora. He was on his second stack of pancakes that morning, and he was feeling just fine about it. Pancakes were wonderful things, and Nemesis loved to eat them, not just because of their sugary syrupy goodness, but also because of the fact that they were warm and inviting, like a comfy place to sleep. So he sat there munching on pancakes happily, whistling a little ditty to himself merrily. This was the life. No one to stalk, nothing to do, and all the pancakes he cared to eat. Apparently people from the South weren't that upset with him being so hideously mutated and freakish. He was a pretty cool guy there.
That's when all the bad stuff happened. Men in white plastic armor, toting laser rifles kicked in the door, sending people ducking for cover all around the crowded restaurant. They leveled the gun barrels off at Nemesis and charged the energy packs meaningfully. It was at this point that Nemesis realized people didn't use the term nards nearly enough anymore. They were more likely to go with a hip cool updated term like bullocks. He also realized that if he didn't do something fast, he'd be switched from eating pancakes to eating hot plasmic death beams.
Nemesis spoke to the men without turning to look at them, or even missing a step in eating, "You... shouldn't.. have done this... punk. I'm... gonna... Wear your... entrails as a... S.K.I.R.T.. pansy."
The storm troopers took this as their invitation to open fire on Nemesis, but he was one step ahead. Using his newly-acquired Jedi powers, Nemesis was on his feet quickly, both lightsabers ignited, one in each hand. He deflected laser bolts back at the men who fired them, laying each and every storm trooper out in the first volley, before turning the sabers off and spinning them impressively on his index fingers.
"Yeah... that's... what I thought.. bitches."
Nemesis flicked a few bills to the woman at the cash register, adjusted his battered leather fedora, and headed out into the streets humming merrily to himself.
V. The dark one watched a screen, viewing Nemesis take out the platoon of storm troopers in under fifteen seconds. He then switched to a new screen, displaying the events from those fateful final nights of Raccoon City, showing Nemesis taking out a helicopter, killing policemen and women, and knitting a dandy fine scarf. This was one bad mother, and he had to be taken out if the Empire was to reign supreme over all planets everywhere. There was only one man on board with the capability of fighting a Jedi of the power and skill shown in Nemesis. And that man was he, the dark lord.
"Commander, prepare the jet. I'm going to take out this threat to Imperial reign myself."
"Sir, yes sir."
VI. He sat in his lounge chair, watching television. His favorite show was on, The Simpsons. Somehow, Homer reminded him of himself. only a whole lot smarter. After all, Homer could speak English. Nemesis, on the other hand, could not. Nemesis sat in his chair wearing cool radioactive rubber pants, boots, and a shirt that read 'Where's the Beef?' He chuckled at Homer's latest silly antic before looking up angrily. Something was moving outside, and no one got the drop on Nemesis. He moved like lightning, disappearing from the room.
The door opened and in strode the dark jedi in the black cloak. He carried his own evil lightsaber already ignited and ready for action. How quaint that the mutant beast had chosen to hide. The dark jedi surveyed the room, looking about, scrutinizing every little inch of the apartment. Potato chips by the television, half a case of Budweiser, it looks like the Simpsons was on. Was this truly a Jedi he was after, or just some tentacled slob? Well, let's see. No one on the recliner, no one in the bathroom, no one in the kitchen. hot damn that was one big fridge! Over nine feet tall and five across, and it seemed to be expanded out, like something exceptionally large had been haphazardly stuffed in. This guy was weird. Oh well. perhaps he was out doing something. The dark one would have to wait.
All at once, the boards serving as door to the fridge burst into splinters and Nemesis leapt out at the man, lightsabers ignited. The dark Jedi parried and countered and so the battle began, Nemesis expertly wielding his two blades with grace and beauty while the dark one desperately tried to keep up for his life.
"You know," parry thrust whirr, "I am Darth Maximus," weow voom skrack, "Most powerful of the Dark Jedi," voom voom crash, "I have killed greater Jedi than you or Kandubi."
"S.T.A.R.S.!!!" Nemesis roared as he brought both blades to bear. He began spinning them in deadly arcs and curves, creating a shell of light and energy about himself. Maximus stumbled back, unable to parry something so massively cool. Nemesis first extended a tentacle, firing bolts of pure lightning at the dark jedi, and then he diced the poor man and ate him.
VI. Back on the ship, the Commander had seen all of this happen. He saw the tragic death of his lord. He saw the monstrous beast of a Sith Lord destroy and devour the dark jedi who once presided over the ship, and he saw a golden shiny opportunity to run like hell, and so he did just that. The ship turned around and blasted off. The Empire was never heard from again in that quadrant of the galaxy.
VII. Nemesis ate him.