Chapter Two
The cyclops had approached the stunned traveler and hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder. Wander flinched slightly, whipping his head around to see Hater's second in command. For the first time in a long time, Wander assumed the worst. Now that Dominator was defeated, the hiatus of Hater and Wander's rivalry was lifted and Hater can finally get back to his precedent priority: destroying Wander. Peepers had come to collect him, he was sure of it.
"Wander," The commander said, "Let's get you to the ship."
The tone wasn't villainous at all. It sounded concerned and sympathetic, which took Wander by surprise.
Wander stared at him, swallowing dryly as he processed Peeper's words. He wasn't stupid. Though he desired that he could get Hater and Peepers to change, Wander knew that they both despised him. He convinced himself that they'll get better with time. In his opinion, Hater seemed to be holding back in trying to "destroy" him. Sure, he gave a whole spiel about how the day had finally come, that he would be the villain to be rid of the nomad. But suddenly, he's distracted or realizes that there must be a better way of doing it. Grop, Hater had just proven that he definitely had the potential to annihilate Wander any time he wanted, but something had always kept him from doing so. Maybe it was the fact that the skeleton would be bored of not having someone to thwart his plans.
Or maybe they had both finally found Wander somewhat tolerable.
But at this point, he didn't care if it was a trap. Anything would be better than this, let it be torture or maybe even death. It seemed so uncharacteristic for him to be so morbid, but it wasn't something he could help. Sylvia and Dominator's death had been morbid, more morbid than anything Peepers or Hater could accomplish. The dam that held back all of his negative thoughts had been broken, and now the nomad began to feel emotions he had locked away for so long. However, a dull, empty feeling in his chest overrode the intensity of everything else.
Slowly, he stood up and stared down at Sylvia's corpse one last time. The once lively blue color of her skin had faded into a dullish gray. Her words of guidance will forever be silenced, Lady Haymaker and Duchess will never be used to defend anyone again. The green hat that sat upon Wander's head was removed, and the nomad brought it to his chest to give his respects. Words had failed him and it was like his mind seemed to shut down at the worst time. Nothing could express the inner anguish he was enduring.
Sylvia had brought life more meaning, though the nomad would never say that it didn't have any beforehand. The zbornak made traveling different, therefore, affecting Wander's life so much that it could never be the same again. He was too accustomed to have someone around him at all times that traveling alone again would be hard to get used to.
"Don't worry," Peepers said, "The watchdogs will… try their best to give her a proper burial."
"No." The alien spoke, his own voice sounding foreign by how stern it was.
He didn't want the watchdogs to handle his best friend's corpse, though he didn't want to handle it either. Despite their close friendship, it wasn't his job. Wander needed to contact Dorothy and Sylvia's brothers somehow, but he knows that the visit will be tough. Having to explain to a mother that her daughter had died to mercilessly would never be an easy task. He had only met the elder zbornak once, and he wasn't surprised that she showed her love in a passive aggressive way. He figured that she was the one who influenced Sylvia's fierce personality. But though Dorothy had thick skin, the news would devastate her dramatically.
Peepers didn't try to argue, despite not receiving an explanation for rejection. He just nodded his head and waited for Wander to finish his silent farewell.
The space traveler bowed his head and let himself breathe.
"Syl." He attempted to speak, but his voice came out hoarse and his head began to spin.
He didn't have the energy to say goodbye.
The walk to the ship was long and quiet. It was bizarre that even though every being in the galaxy had showed up, not a single was uttered as Wander was slowly escorted away from his friend's corpse. He walked with slumped shoulders, like the weight of every planet in the galaxy had rested upon him. The grip on his hat was weak, as if the simplest gust of wind could blow it away from him.
Peepers lead Wander into the giant skull ship, the smoke forming from the area Dominator's laser shot through. It wasn't severe enough to keep the ship from flying, but it certainly needed fixing.
Wander had been inside the skull ship too many times to count. The benefits of being a nomad was the fact that Wander knew how to get around in many different ways.
He had the whole ship mapped out mentally, all of Hater's many rooms, the cafeteria, the bathrooms, the auditoriums, and where they kept their weaponry. The knowledge came in handy whenever he needed to roam the ship without being detected. So Wander immediately recognized the path that they were going and his heart dropped a bit.
The fact that Wander had been here as a guest and not a prisoner seemed to slip Peeper's mind, and he ended up leading the nomad towards the jail cells rather than an extra room. If Wander was disappointed with his living conditions, he didn't show it. If Peepers wanted to treat him like a prisoner, then that's fine. At least he would have a quiet place to grieve without anyone to acknowledge it later.
It was when he started putting in the code to open the cell that the commander realized what he was doing. He was too lost in thought, about how the war had ended, about Hater's health, about what the future was going to be like now that they were once on top again. He turned towards Wander, is eyelids cringing as he gave an apology. They continued down the hall and took a left, which lead them towards the elevators. Silence had surrounded them, and seeing how the ship had multiple floors, their journey to the correct floor was going to be a long one.
"I'll warn the watchdogs not to attack you." Peepers announced in an attempt to break the silence for a while.
The nomad kept his head down, his body language indicating that he didn't feel much like conversing at the moment. Peepers blinked in response, looking down at his feet as the awkwardness grew around them. He desperately wanted to get Wander settled in his room so he could check on his boss, and soon enough, the sharp ding that filled the room brought him relief.
They went down a few hallways, making a bunch of lefts and rights along the way before approaching a door that was a lot bigger than the other ones.
Hater did not own a guest room. In fact, according to the villain, every room was his, but he let his troopers use it in order to have an army in the first place. However, this room was around the size of Hater's bedrooms, but there was nothing indicating that any form of life had actually used it. The bed was made perfectly without a wrinkle in sight, but there was a lot of dust on the furniture. The colors of the walls shared the black and red palette as the rest of the ship.
Though the room was definitely better than a prison cell, it didn't lift Wander's mood in the slightest.
"There are some things about the room I need to show you how to operate, but after that, I'll be on my way." Peepers said.
The cyclop's tone left Wander feeling uneasy. It was so shocking how everything was already starting to change. How quickly he became alone, how easily his enemy had dropped their history in order to help him. The latter normally would make Wander giddy with glee, but now it made the dull emptiness in his chest become more intense.
Peepers continued the tour, explaining what button did what and how to contact him specifically, but Wander already knew he would rarely use it. He didn't like to be a burden. His presence did not benefit anyone on the ship at all. The fact that he even accepted the commander's offer in the first place surprised him, knowing that he was the one receiving the help instead of giving it. But Peepers was already on his way down the hall, and he didn't feel like leaving the silence he was now consumed in.
Instead, he sat on the floor and had the first of many breakdowns he's sure he'll be enduring in, at least, the next few years.
Peepers walked quickly towards the elevator, his mind now focusing on Lord Hater. He knew that he should've been tracking his boss's health from the moment he fell down, but to abandon the nomad seemed too heartless. Not that he regularly cared for Wander's feelings, but it wouldn't feel right to leave the nomad to suffer all alone. Even if he did annoy them, Wander had always attempted to help them when asked.
Despite all of that, he still should've kept a close eye on Hater.
The ride on the elevator was a bit longer than the one he took earlier, but Peepers didn't really pay attention to that. He needed to figure out the game plan for the next few days.
If anyone is going to tell Hater anything about how the war ended, it was grop darn going to be him. Peepers was certain of that.
But telling his boss that Wander was now living on the ship, the cyclops felt reluctant about it.
Hater had proved to be unpredictable and careless of many things. The only person Hater genuinely cried over Westley, the watchdog who had passed away around a year ago, but he had been acknowledged due to being the one who actually caught Sylvia and Wander. Tormenting and conquering the people of the planets
and went straight to the infirmary. A wave of watchdogs had surrounded a single hospital bed, and the troopers that were in there prior to the event had been ignored. The commander began to push through the crowd, letting out a series of "Out of my way!" and "Move!" as he went. By the time he had made it to the front, his legs had ached and he felt winded.
But the sight of his boss had perked him right up.
A wave of relief crashed over him instantly as he noticed that the skeleton had been tucked in, snoring as obnoxiously as possible. He wasn't in a critical condition and that's all Peepers was really concerned about.
However, as he attempted to wake the skeleton, a watchdog dressed in white scrubs had grabbed his arm. Peepers yanked away and demanded to be treated with more respect, considering he was Hater's second in command. The doctor quickly apologized, though his words didn't really sound sincere. The commander glared, but didn't address it verbally.
"Lord Hater is under a temporary coma," The doctor began, " It's a result of his power drainage. We've tried to wake him up, but he remained in this state during all of our attempts. It could be days or weeks until he wakes up again-"
"Meaning I'm in charge now," Peepers cut in, "And as the new leader of this army, I demand all of you to report in the auditorium for a mandatory meeting immediately!"
He was met with a sea of confused stares, but the watchdogs shrugged and started their way to the auditorium. They knew it best not to argued with the short tempered second in command.
"And you," He referred to the doctor, "You will bring Hater up to his room. If he's going to sleep, at least put him in a comfortable space."
"But sir, all of the equipment-"
"I gave you an order," Peepers said sternly, "Bring the required equipment with you."
Before the doctor could protest, the cyclops strode off, his chest swelling with this new gain in authority. Finally, after years of being pushed around, he'd finally get the respect he was waiting for.
The auditorium was filled with the noise of chattering watchdogs. Some spoke of their temporary leader, others discussed the health of their old one. But though there were various conversations happening, they all held the same context. What was going to happen now?
The only thing that silenced the army was the sound of Peepers clearing this throat that came through the speakers. All attention was directed at him, the atmosphere shifting into a tension filled silence.
"Good to have your attention," Peepers said, but the tone was not lighthearted in the slightest, "I'm sure most of you are informed of Lord Hater's condition, however, this will not hinder us in any way possible. I've worked along Lord Hater long enough to qualify substitution in his absence. Now, that being said, there's no reason for you to think you can slack off. There are no breaks, especially at a time like this. Lord Hater will not come back to a ship filled with fools that are willing to abandon their service to him. Lord Hater will not come back to the tarnished army that he left. He will come back to a dedicated, hardworking, and undefeatable army, not some wimpy, useless, dimwitted, pathetic bunch of troops that you are acting like at this very moment."
The words left the watchdogs speechless. The majority of them looked down at their feet in shame, others sharing looks of the same disappointment of hearing the truth. They had been lacking. Grop, they've lost so many battles that some don't even see Hater as a threat anymore.
"I hope that you all will take that into consideration." Peepers scolded, "On another note, I'm sure you have taken account that due to the loss of his traveling partner, Wander is currently on the ship with us-"
The crowd erupted immediately. A mix of cheers and boos rang out, some screaming about how it was smart to get the nomad while he was down. But others refuted, expressing that this was too easy and harsh on the nomad. They all knew that their overlord would not tolerate Peepers finishing the job that the skeleton had started, even in a situation like this.
Even though he figured something like this would happen, Peepers was startled by the reaction.
"...But we are not going to destroy him."
Silence rushed its way back, every watchdog sharing the same expression. Shock.
Normally, Peepers had been good at presentations. It was easy for him to discuss missions, saying who would go where and what weapon they would use. He had known, even built most of the artillery their ship contained. Creating a strategy for battle wasn't difficult to explain once Peepers finally weighed the most probable possibilities that would happen in during an attack, Wander being the main focus in many of them.
There was definitely a reason that he was given the title of Commander.
But socializing to this extent was different. He didn't have a map to point where the conversation was going. He didn't have a flow chart of every watchdog's reaction and what he could say to influence it. There were no blueprints when it came to emotions.
"There's a really good reason why he's here," He began, his voice now losing its edge, "Lord Hater can keep him under his watch."
That sounded good enough.
"Yeah, that way Wander would not be able to thwart any future plans of invasion! And as for not destroying him-"
"That would be easier." Said one of the watchdogs.
Many murmured in agreement, but it all stopped when they met Peeper's glare.
"Destroying him, for us, would seem a bit…"
Villainous? Because that's what they were. Easy? Peeper's didn't really have it in him to complete the task.
"Wrong," He finally decided, "And I know what you're thinking: 'But we've always been stopped by him!' or 'He's done nothing but cause trouble!'. Well, that may be true. But Sylvia… Sylvia was all he had. Now, I've worked with the zbornak before, and she wasn't too bad. Grop, she's the toughest zbornak I've ever come across, in all honesty. Her death was and still is shocking, and as villains, we should rejoice in having two of our toughest enemies destroyed at once. Not trying to get sentimental here, but Sylvia was on our side when she died. I know Wander isn't the greatest to be around, but right now, it seems we're all he has now and it wouldn't be too bad to, I guess, honor the zbornak by letting her friend grieve here."
Everything he was saying didn't really sound right coming from him. He knows for a fact Sylvia would be more than upset to know that Wander was on the skullship of all places, seeing that the only thing she could even tolerate about the watchdog army was its commander (and the word tolerate was a bit of an overstatement). But Peepers also knew that the watchdogs didn't have a clue of the relationship between their leaders and the space travelers. The army had no clue of their adventures, and what the four somehow always faced at the same time, mostly due to Hater or Wander being the ones to lead them there. They only recognized that Hater loudly and annoyingly obsessed over the furball at every moment he wasn't gushing over Dominator.
"But enough of that. Why I've really called you here is to say that no one, and I mean no one is to interact with Hater before I do. No one is going to tell him how the war ended, no one is going to let him know of Wander's presence, no one will tell them that Dominator died. That is my responsibility. After the meeting is over, I would like you, you, you and you,"
He pointed at four random watchdogs, who all stood there aghast and frightened by what may come next.
"To follow me. I have a task for you."
After a few more minutes of Peepers talking, telling them what to expect from him, the assembly came to a close and the three watchdogs nervously stood around for their commander.
Peepers felt powerful with this new authority, that just a single point and glare can make many conjure up fearful thoughts of their punishment to be. He led them through the hallways, head high and his arms crossed behind his back, onto the elevator, where the minions awkwardly stood and listened to the ironic upbeat tunes from the elevator speakers. Once the door opened, he led them towards the entrance where the tongue of the ship rolled onto the ground. Soon enough, the commander was demanding them off the ship with a handheld stretcher to collect Sylvia's remains.
They all squinted in disgust, but made no complaint as they went to complete the grotesque task.
Many of the people who had came to fight left after witnessing the death of both Sylvia and the one they were up against. The sight was too gruesome for some to endure, and others felt like they didn't feel the need to stick around. It was as if when Sylvia died, it was no longer their battle to fight. Grop, there was no battle to fight at that point. Their galaxy was saved, their homes needed rebuilding, and their hopes only wilted a little on their way back home.
"Commander Peepers," One of the watchdogs called out, "Are we also collecting Dominator's body?"
Peepers had almost forgotten about her.
He approached them, his arms locked behind his back and his strode screaming authority. He halted right above Dominator's corpse, well, what was left of it, and gave it a condescending glare.
Peepers was standing in front of a monster. Her relentless destruction, her will too vanquish the whole galaxy, she was truly the worst threat that anyone would ever face. But now she's been defeated, by her own weapon no less. It was refreshing to the commander, to see her mangled corpse in front of him. Hater had nothing to worry about now. No more plans to woo her or defeat her, no musicals and gadgets to impress her with. She will never get to destroy so much as a pebble at this point.
Thank Grop it's over.
"Leave her." He said, his voice holding a stern and cruel tone.
The watchdogs just shrugged, pleased at the fact that they won't have to clean her mess too.
They made their way back to the ship, leaving the commander to stare down at Dominator's blood covered skin. The stunned look on her face brought a slightly satisfying feeling to the watchdog.
"You don't deserve anyone's sympathy." He spat cruelly, as if she could hear him.
And boy, he wish she could. He would love to see her face twist into a look of despair, for her to realize that no one will miss her, and that in the end, she's accomplished nothing. Because in the end, the one planet she didn't get to destroy was the one she died on.
With one final glare, he made his way back to the skullship and demanded that the ship leave immediately.
Wander's head ached tremendously.
The crying hadn't stopped since Peepers left, and by this point, he had created a puddle of his own tears around him. The fur on his side puffed out after coming in contact with the salty liquid, but Wander didn't care.
He's not sure if he's ever going to stop hurting, which is a lot considering his usual optimistic attitude. Never in his life has he felt this bad, this broken. His chest felt hollow, resulting in staggered breaths that left him feeling lightheaded. He tried falling asleep, he really did, but sleeping on a mattress instead of his buddy's back felt completely foreign. The nomad was sure that even the most comfortable bed in all of the galaxy would fail to get him to sleep. He quickly got sick of the comforter he laid under, kicking it off before rolling onto the floor.
Everything was overwhelmingly fresh on his mind, and every time he closed his eyes, he'd just see Sylvia's pale blue face, her mouth agape with no single sign of peace. If only he had kept his mouth shut, if only didn't mention that people were out to her that Dominator wouldn't have taken Sylvia away from him. If he had not wandered off like he always did, maybe their plan on getting rid of the villainess would succeed, but not as a means to destroy her.
Whatever the outcome could've been doesn't matter now. There's nothing Wander can do to reverse the situation.
The alien felt his body get heavier, the take off of the ship causing gravity to force itself upon him. In this moment, he felt completely lost. He had no view of the outside, he had no idea where they're going or, in a more accurate term, where they were taking him. There was no way Hater would let Peepers keep him on the ship for too long. His ego was way too big, it would be a major drop to plummet from '#1 Superstar' to 'Nomad Babysitter'. The skeleton overlord would never show his face again if word got out he was housing Wander.
But this was proof that at least one of them was changing, Wander debated with himself. If he stayed, he could influence Hater to get over that pride and learn how to tolerate people he didn't like. Maybe this whole situation couldn't be all bad, having his ex-nemesis become less evil and more sympathetic. It seemed like a bit of a stretch, but Wander despised feeling hopeless.
He was so wrapped up in thought that he didn't hear Peepers enter the room. It was a small 'ehem' that made him realize he was no longer by himself, and he greeted the commander with a teary eyed stare.
Peepers thought maybe Wander would've cheered himself up enough for him to start speaking again, but he didn't want to push him into doing so. He should've known that still Wander didn't want to talk, but he had to inform him about Sylvia.
"I've ordered the watchdogs to bring the zbor- Sylvia, onto the ship. Her body is stored in room A113."
Silence.
"I just thought I'd, uh, let you know, so if you want to… say goodbye to her properly, you'll be able to."
Wander dropped his gaze and looked down at his feet, examining the knot in his laces. Grop, this is so weird! Peepers thought. The nomad suddenly going from extroverted to taciturn in under a day was too out of place, it all felt surreal.
He turned to walk away, like he had the first time but he was stopped by a croaky, "Wait."
"Yes?"
Wander chewed his lip and let out a small sigh. It was so bizarre that a single word could drain so much energy.
"How is Hater?"
The cyclops blinked. He's not sure if he should be surprised or upset. Surprised, because of all things Wander could ask about, it had to be Hater. Upset, because he's been avoiding the topic of anything else that actually affected him.
"He's comatose from using too much power. He'll be asleep for a while, but other than that, he's fine."
The nomad nodded, putting his hands in his lap.
"I just want to thank you for helping."
Peepers should've cringed. He should've demanded that the furball should leave and figure things out on his own. He should've shown all of the hostility and hatred he felt towards the nomad for thwarting their plans, destroying their previous ships, making a fool out of them.
But the desire was gone now. Wander didn't meet his eyes when he thanked him, he didn't smile when he admitted that Peepers was, in fact, helping him. He wasn't making the situation greater than it actually was, and for the commander, it was enough conformation that Wander wasn't going to be the nuisance he was over the past few years.
Maybe Sylvia's death was the eye-opener that Wander needed in order to see that not everything can be resolved with a smile.
Peepers didn't respond. He didn't know how to respond. There was a long silence before he finally departed, the door closing behind him as he left Wander alone once again.
