The Punch-Spiking


Jasper and Vecchio raced down a corridor, brushing past a series of waiters and costume-clad guests. During Jasper's travels it had become second-nature for him to glance over his shoulder—even if he was doing nothing wrong. Each time he checked their sixth he gauged the progress of their pursuers, and whether they were gaining on them. So far so good, but they hadn't been able to shake them yet.

"Jasper, ahead of us!"

The rabbit swung his head back to look forward, and his heart skipped a beat. A second contingent of security personnel was rounding the corner and heading straight for them. They would be sandwiched in a door-less hallway.

While Vecchio spun right and left looking for an exit, Jasper already knew there were none. He swung the dimensional transporter into Vecchio's gut, knocking the wind out of him.

"No you old fool, grab this! We're taking a shortcut."

"Just be careful!" Vecchio coughed as he grabbed ahold of the other handle.

Just as the officers from both sides of the hall were diving headlong for them, Jasper hit the activation button and whisked them away. The sensation of teleporting disoriented them; it felt like rubbing ones eyes and seeing hexagons of bright colors melting away, only to leave behind another location. Jasper and Vecchio were expecting to feel the guards tackle them, so they both flinched violently. They fell over in confusion, losing their grip on the transporter.

"Blimey, what the..."

"Where are we?!"

The hallway was gone, now replaced by a crowded cabin room. It was decked out with party streamers and balloons, with a series of UV-illuminated aquariums lining one of the walls. A long table ran the length of an adjacent wall, overflowing with chips, dip, and untouched plates of vegetables. The largest punch-bowl either of the bandits had ever seen sat in the corner, large enough to be a Jacuzzi. The guests filling the room were all arrayed in costumes taken from popular movies, TV shows, or video games. Jasper wouldn't touch a game with a ten-foot pole; whenever he saw a spoiled brat glued to a hand-held in public he made sure to slap it out of their hands—as long as the parents had their backs turned. None of the cosplayers seemed to notice their magical entrance; they were too busy talking to one another, admiring ingenious outfits, or laughing at low-budget attempts.

The two outlaws struggled to their feet—Vecchio's bones audibly cracking.

"Oi, that was a good one, wasn't it!" Jasper commended himself.

"Where'd you put the device?"

"Eh?"

Vecchio pointed around Jasper's torso. "Did you manage to stash the transporter somewhere? You just held it out and clubbed people before."

"No I don't have it! Wait, you mean you dropped it?"

"Listen kid, both of us dropped it—"

"Well don't just stand there gramps, look for it!"

They crouched onto their hands and feet, scouring the floor for the rogue device. At first all they found were a variety of boots, shoes, and sandals inspired by fictional universes and period fashion. But a telltale flash of chrome caught Jasper's eye, and he looked up just in time to witness the fate of the device. A canine dressed as a witch had just slipped it into her bag; she was looking right at him before she turned and squeezed through the crowd.

"Vecchio: after that woman!" Jasper dove forward, shouldering his way through a group of super-heroes all coincidentally wearing the same costume. The canine gave him a hard chase through the crowd, but ultimately her bright green outfit flashed whenever Jasper thought he had lost her.

Working together Jasper and Vecchio cornered the canine at the enormous punchbowl. She was a black and lime-green furred border collie that made Jasper think of the girls back on Titania— the ones who dyed their fur for attention. She was outfitted like the rest of the crowd, but more casually. She wore a crooked black witch hat and a baggy green onesie too big for her frame; the excess sleeves hung limply off her hands while the legs bunched at her footies. She was the slumber-party version of some video game character that Jasper couldn't care less about.

The pair of bandits closed in on her, arms spread like basketball players.

"Ey there girl, you lifted something that belongs to us. Care to hand it back?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she retorted, crossing her arms—the sleeves of which swung in a delayed fashion.

"You know perfectly well what I mean! You swiped that thingy-madoo-hickey after we dropped it. It's in your bag!"

"Fine, have a look!" The cosplayer opened her bag wide enough for Jasper to see inside, and he stepped closer to peer in. He fished around for the comparatively bulky device, but only found a few paper credits, some change, and a few gift cards—all of which he pocketed without qualms.

"What?! It ain't there! Alright what have you done with it?"

The witch pointed a floppy sleeve back through the crowd. "I dropped it a while ago! Someone else has picked it up by now. Hurry, or they'll run away with it!"

"For the love of..." Jasper had nearly taken off when Vecchio grabbed his shirt-collar. When he turned around the old man pointed at the base of the collie's suit. Right under her protruding tail the drop-seat of the onesie was bulging out, giving the dimensional transporter away.

"She must've stashed it in the backdoor while she was running," Vecchio said in Jasper's ear.

"Ahh, good onya mate." The jackrabbit nodded coyly. "So that's it! Trying to pull one over on ol' Jasper are we? Ya little ankle bitter!"

Before she could flee Jasper shoved the large witch hat down over her face, blinding and muffling her. Vecchio grabbed her loose sleeves and tied them in a knot so she couldn't fight back. With the collie successfully secured, Jasper shamelessly unbuttoned the drop-seat and began fishing around in her onesie for the device. She thrashed about violently and tried to cry for help, but her pleas were muffled by the hat.

"I had a doe who was always hiding things in her blouse," Jasper explained, contorting his face and reaching in deeper while the transporter slipped further from his grasp. "Car keys, lotto tickets, spare change, my wallet..." The collie began swatting his face with her tail. "Oof! It never worked. She always over-estimated my respect."

Refusing to give up, the collie slipped her arms from her sleeves and reached down through the interior of her onesie. She snatched the transporter away just as Jasper got it in his grasp.

"This Jill has an extra set of arms!" Jasper exclaimed. "Oi, give it back!"

"Watch where you're grabbing, you sicko!"

"Vecchio, keep her muzzled!"

The old skua tried to tighten the hat around the girl's head, but to his surprise she was no longer in it; the hat slid off and revealed an empty neckhole.

"That's it, I'm coming in there after you!"

Jasper crawled all the way through the drop-seat into the over-sized onesie, now jointly occupying it with the canine. Its original owner had removed each of her appendages from their sleeves or pant legs so that she could better twist around and fight back. With nothing but Vecchio's hold to support the suit it grew too heavy for him to carry; it fell to the floor with a thud, now one chaotic mess. The seabird stepped back, trying to discern her head or a hand or the transporter beneath the suit, but one bulge was indistinguishable from the next.

"OW! The little witch bit me!" Jasper hollered.

Finally the dimensional transporter emerged from the neck hole, victoriously held aloft by Jasper's hand. The rest of his arm and his head followed, and the dazed jackrabbit paused to catch his breath and gather his wits about him. Then he crawled the rest of the way out until he was free from the suit.

He brushed his clothes off. "Felt like I was trapped in a parallel dimension! A fate truly worse than death."

"That would have been embarrassing if the transporter wasn't in there," Vecchio remarked.

While they were checking over the device to make sure it was unharmed, the collie was trying to fit herself back into the pajamas. The problem was she became disoriented inside the suit and had no notion of up or down. She ended up poking her head through the seat flap and her tail through the neck hole. Her forepaws found their way into the footies while her feet emerged from the sleeves. Before Jasper and Vecchio could walk she lashed out and wrapped her arms around the jackrabbit's calves.

"I'm Loretta!" she blurted out.

Jasper had to windmill-his arms to keep from falling over. He looked down, annoyed. "Hallo Loretta! I'm Impatient! I've got places to be, gadgets to steal, and law-enforcement to evade. Care to be a good Shiela and let go?"

"Please, you don't know how much that dimensional transporter means to me!"

"Correct—and I don't want to! ...Wait, how did you know what it was?"

Before she could answer Vecchio grabbed Jasper's arm and pointed to the cabin door. "Cornerians! We gotta teleport out of here!"

"No-no: we'll hide! Every cabin within 100 feet of her is probably crawling with them. Better to let them pass over us and move on to another area."

Loretta used Jasper to bring herself to her feet. "I've got a plan!"

Jasper leaned in close to intimidate her, gesturing to himself with his thumb. "I'm the one with all the plans! Your plans are prolly shite!"

She pointed at the massive punch bowl behind them. "You can hide in there when they get close."

"But the transporter will short-circuit and electrocute us!" Veccio warned.

Loretta rocked on the balls of her feet. "Well... I guess you'll just have to trust me with it."

Jasper stomped his foot. "Aw you little schemer, I'll get you for this!"

The hare reluctantly gave her the transporter, which she sealed inside her bag.

"Don't worry. I'll wait right here until they're gone. I'll signal when it's safe to come back up."

"So having the transporter isn't enough; you have to drown us too!"

"Quick, here they come!"

Without further prodding the two outlaws climbed up on the table and swung their legs over the side of the punch-bowl. They submerged themselves in the bright red fruit punch until they were up to their noses; only their eyes, hats, and ears poked above the surface. Through the warped side of the bowl they watched the guards draw closer until they were upon their position. Then they took deep breaths and ducked below.

Loretta casually stood a few feet from the punch-bowl, pretending to be watching the other cosplayers. The security personnel approached, checking under the white cloths covering the tables and scanning the crowd as they searched. When the two guards saw her they froze in place, staring. Loretta did her best to play it off. She took out her personal PDU and began browsing her social media accounts with it, pretending to be engrossed. The truth was she couldn't operate the touchscreen with her hands covered by the footies. The security officers continued to stare at her, suspicion clearly showing on their faces. Loretta began to sweat nervously, unable to stop herself from stealing glances at them.

Finally the older guard shook his head slowly. "So that's how they're wearing 'em these days. Upside down and all."

"First it was backward hats," the other guard agreed, "then it was jackets tied like skirts, then they were piercing their ears with giant metal hoops, then they dyed their fur neon colors. Next they'll be wearing their underwear on their heads and calling it 'style' or 'swag'."

"Every day we stray further from god."

"Hey, what's wrong if I wear my clothes upside down?" Loretta piped up in her own defense. "It works, doesn't it?"

"Sure, but your bum's hanging out the back."

Loretta's face morphed into a horrified grimace, and she backed up against the snack table to hide her chibi witch-covered underwear. The two guards shared a laugh but otherwise passed her by to continue looking for the real miscreants. When they were far enough out of sight Loretta knocked a fist against the punch bowl, giving the all-clear.

Jasper stood up as quickly as possible, splashing the red beverage in every direction. "Eugh, thought you'd never tell us to come out! Of all the ways I thought I'd die I never imagined a green witch in long-johns would drown me in a bowl of fruit punch. Eh, Vecchio? ...Vecchio?"

The old bird was still hunkering at the bottom of the punch bowl, a steady stream of bubbles rising to the surface.

"He's gonna drown!" Jasper reached into the juice mixture and pulled Vecchio out by his wings. The old man coughed and spluttered, but did his best to hold it in.

"What are you doing man?! Spit it out!"

Vecchio swallowed, causing his Adam's apple to bob in his thin throat. "What do you mean 'spit it out'? You want me to let this go to waste? It's at least 30% proof!"

Jasper smacked a hand over his face. "Strike my earlier comment. This is exactly how you'd die."

"Ahem!" Loretta extended the dimensional transporter to Jasper, who looked relieved to see her still standing there.

"Thanks Jill!" Jasper graciously accepted the device. "Now scram!" He held it far away from his body to keep from getting it wet. After their dip in the punch both criminals were saturated with the sticky solution. Jasper had the bright idea to wash himself off in the nearby fishtanks.

"Oh please don't make me leave!" Loretta begged. "I bought a ticket on this boat just so I could get close to the dimensional transporter!"

Jasper climbed over the side of a waist-high aquarium, then lowered himself into the water. "Sure you did. And all the tasty food and the concerts and the alcohol and the costumes were just a package deal, eh?"

Loretta rushed over to the side of the fish tank, grabbing onto the rim. "No, you don't understand; I'm a scientist!"

Jasper looked her up and down, noting the state of her onesie. "I expect wearing your clothes upside down cures cancer?"

"No, I'm a theoretical physicist. Honest! I studied physics in college, I got my graduate's degree, but the only jobs I can get are just internships! You know, the ones where you do work for free? That's not even the problem really, the internships are so boring and uninteresting! I want to get my hands on the real stuff, like that dimensional transporter."

Jasper coaxed a goldfish out of his cargo shorts. "What, even if you have to steal it? That could land you in a lot of trouble."

"I don't care!" The witch stomped her foot for emphasis. "Information should be free—not sold for a profit and kept locked up by wealthy elites dominating the private sector. They're all just greedy capitalists! I hate the other people on this excessive dream boat! Anarchy forever!"

Vecchio was taken aback. He paused in the middle of squeezing the punch out of his hat (and into his beak) to say, "Well that escalated quickly."

Jasper stood up to his belt buckle in the fish tank. He scratched his chin, studying Loretta through a new lens. "You know, I think I had you all wrong. We're both bandits in a way."

"Am not! It's a political ideology and isn't really stealing, per se... It's equal distribution of wealth!"

"Well that just sounds like stealing with extra steps." Jasper hoisted himself out of the aquarium, now dripping water instead of fruit punch. When Vecchio climbed out behind them they left the fish tank a deep red color, and the fish began swimming in loop-de-loops. "Tell you what though. I ain't about to share the dimensional doohickey with anyone else. But if you help us smuggle it off the Pleiades I'll give you access to it. I'll mount it on my wall, and you can come visit to study it and take it apart and whatever. Now what do you say to that proposition?" He extended a paw dripping with tropical punch and tank water.

Loretta shook his paw with her own footie-clad one, cranking it up and down excitedly. "Deal!"


The Gate-Crashers


General Liufang stepped off her shuttle's boarding ramp and onto the hangar deck of the Pleiades. Her personal guard and chain-bound interpreter followed close behind. A force of Katinese expats had already setup an armed perimeter around the landing shuttles, holding the line against the Cornerian guards. The Pleiades' defense force was passable at best, and couldn't stand up to the full-sized landing company. While the Cornerians hid behind cover and defended doors to the rest of the ship, the large number of Katinese stood out in the open, rifles armed and readied.

The caracal stepped forward, dragging the Cornerian interpreter by his leash. She flung him forward, and he fell over without the balancing aid of his hands.

"Put down your weapons or be slaughtered!" Liufang shouted.

The traumatized canine curled into a fetal position but still relayed the order. The defense force shared uneasy, doubtful glances, and ultimately gave in. They had lost the battle even before it had begun; they were unprepared. The commanding lieutenant acknowledged this uncomfortable truth and was the first to lay down his blaster. The rest of the defense force in the hangar followed his lead and dropped their weapons as well, though with less resolve. The Katinese expats confiscated their weapons—sometimes using them to replace their own inferior-grade arms—and forced the Cornerians to huddle on the ground.

With their foothold established in the hangar Liufang lead the infiltration through the halls of the ship. On their way to the bridge they encountered a mixture of guards and guests alike. They either shot or disarmed the officers and beat the passengers with their rifles. At worst they were enemies to her cause; at the most inoffensive, privileged scum.

Liufang reached the elevator to the bridge, only to find it locked. That wasn't a problem. This wasn't a military ship she had boarded.

It had hostages.

Liufang gave the order to round up all the guests in the corridor. The the company of felines placed their rifles against their heads, making sure they were in plain view of the security cameras lining the hallway. The Cornerians cried out; children hid behind their mothers and fathers while friends clung to one another, terrified that this could be the end.

Rather than stare at any camera in particular, Liufang faced the locked elevator and closed her eyes. It wasn't even necessary to speak. It wasn't necessary to grab their attention. The officers in the bridge were watching them and understood the situation well. The general only had to wait a few seconds before the light above the doors flashed back on with a pleasant chime.

What a shame. She almost wanted an excuse to gun some of the dogs down. But the caracal looked forward and strode in. The doors closed around herself, her personal guard, the sniveling translator, and two Venomian officers who forced their way in. The rest waited in the hallway, guns still trained on their hostages. Liufang always expected a trick when dealing with Cornerians and even fellow Venomians—though not from her Katinese division.

When the elevator reached the top of the bridge it emitted the same chime and the doors opened. Liufang's soldiers marched through, rifles at the ready. They pulled up, however, when they ran into a lone captain standing resolutely in their way. The Katinese and Venomians nervously stared him down, focusing their barrels on his large frame, but after some prodding from Liufang they spread throughout the room, leaving just her guard and interpreter. The warthog had already instructed the bridge crew to surrender, rather than risk any unnecessary casualties.

"I see you are a realist, Captain," Liufang commended him. "You know when the hunter has caught you eating dessert" (this is a Katinese expression and loses much in translation, but her Cornerian mediator stumbled through it anyway). Leaning in closer, she growled, "Get on the comm and order the rest of your men to surrender. If you do not we will be forced to kill everyone on board—indiscriminately."

The captain cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I can't do that. Only the Admiral is qualified to give that order."

Liufang drew her saber and gestured around the control bridge. "Then were is he? Show me!"

Her soldiers threatened a tech ensign, and he pulled up a video feed on the monitor, showing the main floor of the Pleiades.

Liufang's jaw slid open, and her arms lowered. She pointed her saber at the screen. "What is... that?"

Snowflake forced himself to look at the vidscreen for the same reasons he would watch a public execution, the punishment of one of his men, or an operation on a wounded soldier. Real officers didn't look away. They accepted their responsibility and duty.

Admiral Neighlson was prancing around a stripper pole erected in the center of the dance floor. He was only dressed in a pair of sparkling black trunks and his white military jacket—and of course those garish pink sunglasses. Retro disco music pulsated over the speakers, remixed with modern electronic bass-treatment. Neighlson rhythmically thrust his pelvis in time with the music while the passengers surrounding his platform either danced along or cheered him on.

"That," Liufang pointed a claw at the screen, "that is the reason Andross has declared war."

"Admiral Neighlson is a disgrace to the Cornerian uniform," Snowflake admitted, "but he still has the singular authority to surrender. You must contact him to negotiate one, and I wager my sword the coward would unconditionally comply."

Liufang waved a paw, then turned her attention back to Snowflake. "Surrender can wait. The transporter is more valuable than the fate of this pleasure ship, the pinnacle of Cornerian excess. Which reminds me..." Liufang swung her sword, halting the tip a mere inch from the warthog's throat. "You were to have the device ready upon my arrival, do you not remember?"

For once Snowflake looked nervous. To hide his fear and the fact that he was already boot-licking he resorted to a blustery speech. "Well, yes, but we ran into some unforeseen circumstances. It appears that one or two of the passengers aboard the Pleiades stowed away to get their hands on that same object. Very recently—er, about the same time you arrived—they snuck into the engine room and, uh, appropriated the dimensional transporter for their own purposes... whatever those may be. Now, rest assured I have much of the crew currently—"

Liufang shook her head and interrupted both the captain and her interpreter mid-sentence. "What?! Are you telling me the device was stolen? By who?!"

Snowflake paused, having to abandon his previous train of thought and recalculate. "We don't know exactly. A pair of ruffian stowaways: a hare and an avian."

"Let me see them!"

The Cornerian managing the hunt for the criminals obliged, pulling several security cam feeds of the two on-screen.

"Have their photos sent to my men," Liufang ordered. "You are all to search for them! Subdue and recruit any of the ship's crew that run across along the way. You six; guard the bridge. From now on you Cornerians are prisoners of war of the Venomian Empire. You will remain here Captain, while I secure a surrender from... that thing." She finished by indicating the screen again.

Leaving six Venomian soldiers behind, she turned with her interpreter and guard to descend the elevator.

"I don't like this," one of her feline guards said, voicing his concern. "This was a simple extraction mission, but it's getting out of hand. We're facing too many setbacks."

"You need more confidence, Yiwen," the General admonished him. "Our people are used to hardships and misfortune. I remind you how we loyal Katinese were exiled from the home that we love, and how we had to live on a wasteland of a planet for five years. But persevering in the face of misfortune and setbacks is how we survived—how Andross' empire grew and flourished. The path to victory is lined with misfortune, and the only way to continue forward is to take each challenge in stride."

"But we should be liberating Katina! Not running some errand for a monkey at the outbreak of the War. I hate these Venomians watching our every move."

"Silence! Know your place, sergeant." Liufang ordered. Yiwen was referring to the Venomian task force sent with them. They passed themselves off as backup and Andross' liaison, but Liufang and her officers knew the real reason.

"Rest-assured," Liufang followed up, "once we have secured the dimensional transporter for Andross he will look upon the Katinese expatriates with even more favor than before. This device will put his research years ahead, and ensure our ultimate victory over the tyrannous dogs and the liberation of our people."


The Aggroed


During their initial chase Jasper and Vecchio had strayed further from the stern—which proved to be the opposite of where they should have been going. Their new plan was to stop by the rear hangar, hot-wire the fastest, sportiest ship available, and escape the Pleiades before the crew could pursue them. But right now they had to wade through a neck-deep sea of people in the center dance floor.

Though they had escaped all knowledge of the fact, the two bandits were now confronted with the truth. News feeds still played out over the vid screens, sobering many of the partygoers but fueling others with reckless abandon. After spotting the footage, Jasper and Vecchio slowed to a halt, awestruck and confused.

Loretta bumped into them from behind. "Why did you stop?" She had to shout over the thumping dance music.

"Dear god... looks like the world is ending!" Vecchio exclaimed.

Jasper looked around the crowd of dancers surrounding them. "And all of these people are partyin' in spite of it?"

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" Loretta asked.

"Oh no, not a problem really. But if Armageddon is a no-show then tomorrow will be one hell of a hangover!"

Loretta huffed. "Personally, I'm quite hopeful. The Cornerian government is an oppressive regime that stole its power by colonizing other peoples and planets. Maybe Andross will bring change to the System. If anyone can end the rat race, it's him."

"Bitch you're a Cornerian!" Jasper shouted in surprise. "He'll get you first!"

The collie crossed her saggy-sleeved arms. "Hmph! I didn't ask to be born a Cornerian! If I embrace his philosophy and fight back against the system I'm sure he'll accept me and the rest of my comrades. Besides, aren't you yourself against the Cornerians? After all, it sounds like stealing is your hobby."

"It ain't just a hobby!" Jasper clutched the transporter tightly to his chest. "It's a way of livin'—my raison d'etre. And no I wouldn't side with that monkey! I'd just end up stealing from him an' his buffoons instead of the Cornerians all the time. Doesn't make much difference who you are or where you're from; I'll steal from you all! I never bother with politics, and I never take sides, you see."

"It only seems like he never takes sides, young lady," Vecchio warned. "He changes sides so fast it just looks like one big blur."

Jasper was about to retort when he spotted a group of security personnel heading their way. "We've been spotted! But I have a plan. Let's split up! We'll have more of a chance at escaping if I go alone and you two go together."

Vecchio sighed. "Something tells me you just want an escape from us."

"I admit I am getting fed up with your constant arguments every step of the way," Loretta said. "So long as the old man and I get to take the transporter, I'm for it."

"Eugh—" Jasper raised a finger to protest but knew it would be futile. He knew Vecchio wouldn't abandon him even though he himself would leave the old seabird in a heartbeat. "Fine! You can take it. But don't hot-wire the ship before I get there!"

Loretta and Vecchio exchanged brief glances.

"Actually I have no idea how to—"

"Yeah, I admit I don't know how to hot-wire a car, much less a ship."

"Ace!" Jasper grinned and clasped his hands. "I'll grab the hounds' attention and lead them away. While they're distracted you two can duck for cover somewheres and teleport away. Let's say... the roof!"

Vecchio's eyes widened. "Oh no! Don't make me go back out there! Venom's the last place in the Lylat I want to see! I rather go back to the assisted living—"

"Come off it Vecch! Every planet in the Lylat System might as well be Venom now that that maniac is on the loose. Once you get there keep on headin' aft until you come to the hangar. Then teleport down into it, and hide in some boxes or something till I get there."

"And what if you don't make it back?" Loretta asked, concern twinging her face.

Jasper smiled knowingly. "Well now, worrying a bit much about the handsome rabbit are we?"

Loretta smacked him across the face, causing Jasper to hiss around his two front teeth. "Of course I'm worried! You're the only one who knows how to steal a ship!"

The hare rubbed at the hand print sizzling on his cheek. "Well you better pray I make it!" He shoved the transporter into Loretta's stomach, knocking the wind out of her. While the seabird and collie ducked below the rest of the crowd, Jasper put his powerful legs to work and bounced above their heads, begging to be spotted again. It appeared to work; the security officers pointed in his direction and took off after him.

From there Jasper focused on running, though he let his ears stand tall above the crowd to guide the Cornerians. He shoved guests out of the way, causing champagne and plates of food to fly everywhere. If the guards had a radar that tracked pure chaos he would be dead smack in the middle.

Jasper burst through the mob of passengers and into a hallway at the other end of the dance floor. He looked over his shoulder to make sure the Cornerians hadn't lost track of him, then turned forward to check what lay ahead of him—much too late. A few yards down the hallway was a contingent of Katinese soldiers. For reasons he couldn't yet explain they seemed to recognize him; he had never been to Venom before and was sure he hadn't stolen from a group of Katinese soldiers. Actually there was that one time—

But the hare had no time to think. The soldiers raised their rifles, which was Jasper's signal to duck. His feet slipped out from under him and he landed on his rump, thankfully cushioned by his cotton ball-shaped tail. The reports from the rifles thundered in the narrow hallway, and bolts of energy seared past just over his head. Scrambling around on the floor to face the other direction, Jasper watched the charged shots strike the Cornerians pursuing him and burn into their flesh. One after the other the security officers dropped to the floor, not even comprehending what had killed them.

Jasper grimaced when he saw the steaming heap of corpses, his sudden fear mirrored by the nearby passengers who cried out and swarmed away. He tried to jump to his feet and follow them but a pair of powerful arms clamped around his and held him back. The arms dragged him kicking back into the hallway.

After being helped to his feet Jasper brushed himself off. "Well thank you now. Thought those Cornerians would never—PEUGH!"

One of the Katinese soldiers dealt a powerful blow to Jasper's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped in pain, eyes freakishly bugging out.

"Alright... I... take that back!"

The Katinese soldiers punched and booted him into submission, and a few more times for good measure. Then they slapped a pair of energy cuffs over his wrists. They conferred with voices over a comm link, then dragged Jasper back out onto the main floor.

After the intense beating Jasper let his legs go limp and let the soldiers carry him along. Through bloated eyes he watched the frightened faces of Cornerians. The sea of passengers parted left and right in front of him. From the way they stared back, he wasn't a pretty sight—not that he ever was...


The Emo Kids in the Corner


General Liufang marched with her guard and interpreter to the platform installed in the center of the dance floor. She wanted to tear apart the stereos emitting the throbbing dance music, but what was a migraine compared to ultimate victory? She couldn't spare the soldiers right now.

Her entourage slowed to a stop in front of the platform with the metal pole. Admiral Neighlson—still only clothed in his sparkling black trunks—casually reclined on the edge, one leg hanging over the side. The group of friends he had made that night were crowded around him, but when they spotted Liufang they scrambled behind Neighlson for protection.

"The devil has come to take my soul, eh?" Neighlson raised his martini glass, toasting her. "Well, c'est la vie."

"I have no time to fence words with a Cornerian playboy," Liufang spat, scaring her interpreter as he worked. "Order your troops to surrender, and there needn't be anymore bloodshed."

The zebra raised his hands in surrender. "Aight, aight! I'm not lifting a finger to stop you. This party boat was never intended for war, and I don't mean to kill the fun by letting politics get in the way. I'll have my men submit—providing, of course, we're allowed to continue celebrating?"

Liufang looked upon the dancing crowd in disgust. "I don't see why not. After all, it is your last day."

Neighlson smiled, making his gratitude known. "Splendid!" One of the Katinese soldiers handed him a microphone, and he cleared his throat with a whinny before speaking into it. "Attention po-po, his is your Admiral Party Horse speaking. In order to prolong the festivities I am giving the order to surrender. The cool cats have graciously offered to relieve you of your posts, so you're all good to join the fun. Hand over your weapons and keep those safeties on!"

"Smart move, Admiral," Liufang told him when he finished. "Now you and the rest of these useless Cornerians will live on. Count yourself fortunate; you will witness the establishment of the new empire and the liberation of Corneria's colonies."

"Fortunate?" Neighlson laughed. "That hoity-toity empire Andross keeps hyping doesn't sound like my thing. The geezer's all about maths and sciences and experimenting on people and shit. I was too busy doing more important things, like joining and getting kicked out of as many frats as possible. I still haven't paid off my loans... but totally worth. Now imagine you put Andross at the head of the Lylat System. It's like electing a biology prof as the house president. Too much mitosis and too little reproduction, if you know what I mean, heh heh. A dictatorship like that is strictly no fun allowed."

"I see the stories were true," Liufang said. "I'd seen the true reaches of Cornerian excess in the movies you brought to Katina. It was all so tantalizing, the luxury they depicted. But it was only a carrot dangled on a stick. The great Cornerian Dream, manufactured to make us accept colonization. We sacrificed our freedom for material goods so that we lived in squalor while you continued living your pampered lives."

"Now hold on there, I worked for this position. I hauled ass early on so I could loaft for the other half of my life. The people you see on this cruiseliner all put in the work, too."

"You don't know the meaning of hard work!" Liufang thrust her paw at a porthole, beyond which stormed the dark, clouded skies of Venom. "Do you think any of these spoiled creatures could survive a day out there? Because that's where they're going. Andross promised to exile the whole population of Corneria, just like you did to us dissenters. And if he didn't, the best alternative I can see for you would be a prison camp carved out of sheer rock cliffs, the great acid sea frothing below. Let's see these Cornerians survive even an hour in those conditions. These soldiers here—they've endured for five years. Yes, Katina was years behind Corneria technologically. Even as a child, I had none of the amenities of spoiled canine brats. I was working a job when you were soiling diapers. And then when you invaded and imposed your tariffs and trade laws I was the first to speak out and fight back. I lead my sisters and brothers in revolt, fighting for the sovereignty of my planet—and you were getting drunk on expensive drinks at a school your parents paid for. I struggled to live five years on Venom, eating rocks to fill my stomach, while you were spoon fed in a cozy military career. No Admiral, you will never know the meaning of hard work—not even when your muscles give out and your lungs no longer have the strength to breath in one of Andross' labor camps."

"I've been all around the Lylat, General, I've seen people in all kinds of different circumstances. And if there's one thing I've learned it's that Lylatians are always suffering. If it's not basic needs for food and water, it's struggling to make a buck, get a job, or pay off crippling loans. Even those seemingly fortunate elites you watched at your cinemas cut their lives short by suicide or drug overdoses. They don't have real friends or lovers. They can't be honest about their feelings. They have societal obligations to fulfill, and financial stresses to drive them insane. And even if everything is going right in their lives, they have this awful sense that everything will go wrong, or should be going wrong, and they get paranoid and can't enjoy anything. It's why I get blackout drunk. It's why I nearly overdose on mescaline every time I take it. It's why I'm disgusted when I see myself in the mirror after I throw it all up.

"Lylatians need things to struggle against—concrete things, not things they can't see like social expectations or financial woes or nebulous relationship issues. These people are atrophying, and their physiology doesn't like that. It screams at them that something's wrong, but they have no idea how to fix it. Their bodies still yearn for that carnal state we were in thousands of years ago, when we were just dumb animals. That time we had to fight for survival. You think it would be any more difficult for these people to adjust to a life on Venom? Lylatians are at peace when they have something to struggle against. You have to fight to live. We have to fight not to kill ourselves. It's why I spend my whole life embracing hedonism now. No one can truly be happy until they conquer that guilt. And it's my job to spread that philosophy and self-help to as many Lylatians as I can."

Neighlson sighed deeply. After finishing his martini he let his arm hang limp, and the glass fell to the floor where it broke with a small tinkle. He looked around at the General and at his own entourage of passengers.

After waiting for the interpreter to catch up (he felt bad for the man), he continued. "Sorry I had to get so real with you all. But it's why I'm down here and not—" he pointed at the command bridge, "—up there. I... I think my high's leaving me." He began looking between his friends for another dose.

Liufang was deathly quiet. "Then why do you have to exile people?"

Neighlson shrugged. "Some people are just party-poopers. Killjoys. They spoil the experience for everyone else because they're not satisfied. Can't get along."

"Why do you have to forcefully spread your philosophy and ways of life to everyone else?" the caracal pressed on.

As more and more of his friends came up empty, the zebra looked increasingly desperate. "Look, I don't agree with everything we Cornerians do. But ultimately they're the ones who can eliminate poverty and crime and disease and food scarcity. Once we get to that point, we have to kill our evolutionary desire to participate in conflict. We have to party, and we have to believe it's OK to party. Corneria has come to benefit all of the other planets, your own included. It's not my place to say what they can and can't do. I can't stop them. I only follow orders."

"And if you were to pass sentence on me?" Liufang asked. The animosity was gone from her voice, but the resoluteness remained. "Knowing that I lead the resistance against Corneria's well-intentioned takeovers? Am I one of those party-poopers?"

Admiral Neighlson studied the general. Her threadbare clothes, flea-bitten fur, and defiant stature. In the end, his prolonged silence told Liufang he wasn't at peace with his own answer.

The crowd parted, and through the gap marched a contingent of Katinese soldiers. Two of them were carrying an unconscious rabbit between them, his legs dragging against the dance floor.

The sergeant at their head saluted Liufang. "We captured him trying to escape the dance hall."

Liufang silenced her interpreter to exclude Admiral Neighlson. "Good work sergeant. Was he carrying the dimensional transporter?"

"Unfortunately not ma'am. We think his partner has it. He may be working his way to the hangar. We're in pursuit, but the security force is resisting. We gunned down five of them before we caught him."

"The Cornerians have done what they do best," Liufang said, glancing at Neighlson out of the corner of her eye. "They've rolled over and surrendered. Secure the arms of any more personnel you come across, and force them to join the search. We're on Venom. We have him trapped in a fancy sardine can. His partner has nowhere to go so long as we block off the hangar. Keep up the search. I will interrogate this hare myself."

"Yes ma'am." The Katinese sergeant had his men hand Jasper over to Liufang's personal guard. He then about-faced and marched off with his platoon.

Liufang noted that the rabbit was coming to. "This is not a suitable environment for an interrogation. Bring him with me to a private room."

Without another word to the Admiral, Liufang left with her retinue, Jasper in tow. Once they were out of earshot, Neighlson's friends crowded around him and tried to comfort him. But the zebra was staring back up at the ceiling—up through a viewing window to the command bridge. A newfound resoluteness began to form on his muzzle.