It is often said that to the victor go the spoils. Anything of worth belonging to the losing army is taken as a trophy in an act of further asserting dominance.

This maxim immediately leapt to Helga's mind as she and she alone found herself prodded by K'ciuq in the direction of an insultingly small spaceship while Giarc escorted Arnold, Phoebe, Gerald, Lila, Olga, Jack, Thomas, Eleanor, Cecil and Gnalmij back through the manhole to face whatever fate their captors decided to dole out given their escape attempt.

"You know." She began irately. "For all your huffing and puffing earlier about what a haul I am, you'd think I'd be afforded a better cargo space."

K'ciuq chuckled as he pushed Helga into the trunk. As the door slammed shut, she found herself missing the cells in the tunnels; which when compared to her current arrangements seemed spacious and plush.

She wanted to curse.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to bring Ol' Betsy out of retirement and deliver some Earth-style justice to these freaks.

But instead, alone in the darkness, Helga found herself truly helpless, and cried as her thoughts turned to those she held near and dear, and what fresh hell awaited them beneath the city of Hillwood.

"No. You two stay back."

Packed like sardines in a solitary cell, the rest of the prisoners watched as the door slammed shut and Arnold and Gnalmij were chained against the wall across the way. With a cold chuckle, their captor turned to his brother and shoved the business end of his weapon deep into his neck while awaiting the return of his superior.

"You whom I called brother." Giarc began with a cold chuckle. "In a way, I must be thanking you for this. Your little episode drew out the entire UGAQ army into our territory. And once we, the true Thoraxians deal with those traitors, the conquest of this manure heap can begin. We shall lay waste to this city and every city and country thereafter. Then and only then will no galaxy ever question the might of-"

"Oh, in the name of Ghur'ban, shutyourmouthalready!"

Sensing a prolonged and idealistic rant about the callousness of their mission and the utter stupidity/danger of blind patriotism, Giarc fired a round of plasma into his sibling's face. Just like with Stella and Miles, the beam slammed into its target and what remained of Gnalmij's body crumpled onto Arnold. As the earthlings held their noses, Giarc reveled in the crispy smell of charred flesh and discharged weaponry which filled the sewer.

"One down." He chuckled with a satisfied exhale. "Now for number two…"

The manhole suddenly opened and upon the scent of warfare, K'ciuq hastily scurried into the tunnel.

"Oh, don't tell me I'm too late Giarc. I did wish to relish the life leaving their eyes."

"Far from it, Captain. In fact, I'd go so far as to say your presence at this moment is perfect."

What happened came as a complete shock to everyone; in the blink of an eye Giarc pulled out his weapon and fired directly in the direction of K'ciuq's feet. Once again, the tunnel is filled with an arresting stream of light and the smell of disintegrating skin and bone, only now coupled with the agonizing howls of its victim. Before he can even find it in himself to ask why this is happening, the crippled commander watches in horror as his subordinate puts the safety on his weapon and hoists it in midair while Giarc's lips curl into a cold smile.

"Look at you." he hisses venomously. "Is there one decision in this mission you have made that is good? Was this a game? 'I will go to Earth, and return as the son of the people with Arnold's head in tow?' No…This whole mission…under your command, has been one foolish decision after another…"

The butt of Giarc's weapon slams into K'ciuq's jaw with an agonizing level of force. But given the look on the mutinous minion's face, this was only the beginning.

"…rather than present the full extent of our will and might to any real authority…"

SLAM

"…three of us come to earth…"

SLAM

"…armed with some scattered weaponry and a half-baked revenge plot …"

SLAM

"…surrounding some undistinguished waste of carbon and water…"

SLAM

"…as if you and you alone have some familial stake in this. No. My father would spin in his grave knowing The Third Orbit was to be headed by the scion of disloyal filth like Y'niarb."

"What…what are you talking…about…" K'ciuq wheezed. "My father-"

"-was none other than the famed traitor-General himself." Giarc continued. "How funny it must be that T'yr-gasso practically had to twist Larberec's arm into rearing you…only in the end for his son to ensure your demise."

"His…son?..."

Giarc leans in closely, the business end of his weapon practically perforating the skin on K'ciuq's neck as he whispers to his commander the source of all this resentment.

It was hours before the Siege of Ghur'ban-gyl, the last regiment of soldiers standing between the Second Orbit and utter annihilation was eroding under warfare. T'yr-gasso knew that the goose was cooked to borrow an earth idiom. All of which added to the fit of depression he had been under since condemning Y'niarb, his favorite general and onetime heir apparent, to death.

His dying wish was to see his three children one last time before facing whatever fate had in store for him. His two sons and daughter. Was that so much to ask?

For Larberec it was.

Feeling slighted for far too long and disgusted by his 'inability to lead' since Y'niarb's execution, the man whom you called father used what little power he had within the heirarchy to spirit me, Gnalmij and my two-day-old sister into three different families escaping as refugees from war before weaseling his own way out of Thoraxia with you. By the time he had learned of this treachery, the shells rained upon the city; one of which would claim him in its destructive wake.

When you felt the mantle of Thoraxia's last great hope fell upon your shoulders all these years later, it seemed fitting for at least one of us to bide our time and wait to bring you to your knees as your family did to ours. I had hoped that my brother would share in this moment, but we all had plans didn't we? He may have decided at the last minute to throw away his chance at glory, but not I.

Oh, don't worry though commander, your place in the history books will not be erased. Far from it actually; all life in this universe and beyond will remember the story of K'ciuq, and how just as his ramshackle and short sighted mission was at its bleakest, in stepped Giarc, son of T'yr-gasso Ooosenuped to save the day.

A trio of spirited mirth brings Giarc's rant to a grinding halt. He turns toward the cells to see Eleanor, Cecil and Thomas howling with laughter, a sight which (no surprise) only further stokes the already potent fires of their captor's fury.

"'Ooosenuped?!'" Eleanor manages to say as she clutches her chest. "Really dude? Some miGHTy fREAkING cONqUeror striking fear into the hearts of all, huh?"

"[That's] like naming your pet goldfish 'killer'." Cecil wheezed.

"No, no, no, Eleanor it's a good strategy if you think about it," Thomas replied amidst hiccups. "Have the dumbest possible last name and get your enemy's soldiers to laugh themselves to death so you can conquer them."

Even the adults had no choice but to share a repressed smirk and giggle over the extra-terrestrial tyrant's surname. Soon the tunnel shook with their laughter as well; given all the worrying and sorrow of the day, this was the only coping mechanism they had left.

"Yes, yes, real amusing." Giarc snarled sarcastically. "Though I like my humor a little more physical.

Upon releasing Arnold from his chains, Giarc mustered up all his strength to deliver a solitary blow to Arnold's abdomen with the butt of his weapon. With his prisoner on the ground, Giarc proceeded to practically shove the gun into Arnold's mouth as far as it could go.

"Ta-da, comedic gold." He whispered. "Goodnight Earth, you've been a really good crowd. But now it's time to say goodbye to all of this…"

Giarc's finger slowly began to caress the trigger.

"…and hello to oblivion."

As Arnold closed his eyes and surrendered to the inevitable, an explosion ripped through the tunnel and filled it with a heavy purple smoke.