"What is your last meal request?" the warden, a moss agate, suddenly inquired.

"'Last meal request?'" Lars snickered as he paced behind the commanding, green gem. Had there not been hundreds of heavily-armed guards lining the hallway, he may have considered making a break for it. It wasn't like he'd make it too far, though, in a pair of antimagic handcuffs. "I thought you guys were throwing me in a cell again; not killing me."

"We aren't 'killing you', Barriga," the agate stated, rolling her eyes. "Capital punishment is against Homeworld law, but I'm sure you're well aware of that by now. We are locking you in the most heavily reinforced cell in the entire galaxy, though"—she proudly smirked to herself—"and since you're, by law, classified as a gem, we aren't required to feed you. Frankly, you should be thanking me for allowing you even this last meal; I know how important food is to you humans."

Lars let out a drawn-out, hearty chuckle. "I bet that cell cost you guys a fortune. It's too bad my crew will inevitably blow a hole in it by the end of the week." He smirked, "It doesn't matter how thick the walls are or what prison I'm in; I'm uncontainable, Agate."

"That's where you're wrong, Barriga," she sneered. "We figured out your little ship has access to Homeworld's prison database as an account of it formerly belonging to Emerald, so we had our technicians—"

"My crew and I are friends with some of the most powerful people in the entire galaxy! Do you really think we don't have other ways of accessing the database?"

"You didn't let me finish." The gem pretended to clear her throat. "As I was saying, we had our technicians completely remove you from the database. As far as your crew knows, you could be in any one of Homeworld's thousands of prisons all across the galaxy. You'd be lucky if they blow a hole in that wall in the next thousand years."

Lars hadn't exactly accounted for that. His smirk turned to a blank stare as he attempted to think of a witty retort, but his mind drew a blank. Whatever… his crew would still have him out of there by the end of the week. Surely someone or something had to have his location. Perhaps Steven and Connie? Or maybe Lion would somehow magically know… again.

"So let me ask you once more," the agate spoke slowly. "What is your last meal request?"

Lars rolled his eyes as he frowned in thought. He focused his attention on the ceiling for a brief moment before his lips suddenly curled into a smirk once more. "I want a can of soda," he began. "Not just any ordinary soda, though! I want a can of Fanti diet grape soda."

"We'll see what we can do," the warden replied dryly. She then snapped toward the nearest guard, a jasper, who subsequently jogged down the hall behind them.


Despite having his ears once more assaulted with an all-too-familiar buzzing, Lars snickered to himself as he lay on his (all things considered, fairly comfortable) bed.

Fanti diet grape soda hadn't been in production for over a thousand years. The last few remaining cans of it were stored in his hair, which he kept there for memory's sake. The prison would be looking for a can of the… admittedly mediocre soda for the rest of time…

…or at least that was what he thought.

The abrupt sound of a metallic clank prompted him to shoot up from his bed. Sure enough, he found the exact soda he had requested sitting at the foot of the cell door.

"Sorry if it's a little dusty; it's been sitting in an evidence locker for eight hundred years," a voice which unmistakably belonged to a jasper apologized. "Apparently it was found in some fancy Era One garden's recycling after a prison break. Weird, huh? Anyway, enjoy!"