I was writing this for fun, but I got tired of it. If you guys want, you guys can give it a name and continue it.

Wounded by his prior entanglement, Zuchek lay naked in his make shift medical healing unit. Even with his knowledge of the other world and its powers, he could not fully heal himself without the intervention of this machine he had made. Days went by as Zuchek silently rested, his coarse black hair unusually loosed down about his pale green shoulders. It was there that he felt at home, resting in his fountain of youth, the aquatic nature of it appealing to his reptilian ancestry. Unconscious as he was, his sub-conscious was rapidly working a way to retaliate against the Assembly, the very group that had ordered this attack on him.
When Zuchek attained a level of health at which he could function as he did before, he was removed from the bath and carried to his chambers. When he came to, he was in his bed. His hair was now done up in braids that extended down to his shoulders, which were now at a bright green, signs that he was fully healthy. He found himself attached to his shock-wave tissue stimulator, a device that allowed him to maintain a high fitness level without exerting any energy on his part. This was because of the fact that the machine stimulated the muscles in his body in such a sequence that they thought that they were in use and molded themselves to a lean shape. If it were not for Zuchek’s own laziness, he would not even posses this machine. He removed the electrodes from his body and stood. To his surprise, he was sill completely disrobed. He quickly threw on a pair of black pants and donned his goat skin cloth. This cloth was not naturally black, as was the case with Zuchek’s robe. The wool of the goat was impermeable to the dyes of this world and could only be found in one color… a dull gray. Obviously, as several people had noticed at one point but never lived to learn if the assumption was correct or not, this robe was not of this world. It was as black as the emptiness of space. The silvery threads used to give it a certain texture were only visible when the light hit them right giving the illusion that during quick movements by the owner there were dozens of tiny galaxies contained in that robe, swirling as an exact replica of the universe itself. He was very fond of the color black; as well he should have been, for it accented his own skin color to the point of glowing. For no apparent reason, he was sweating, creating a myriad of glistening water drops on his bare, battle-scarred chest.
“I need some supplies,” Zuchek said into the intercom beside his bed, “I’ll be heading into town momentarily.”
“Would you like an escort, m’lord?” the intercom buzzed back in reply.
“That will not be necessary. Ready my ship while I am gone though. Refuel it, and recharge the weapons. I still have a few… debts… to pay back.”
“Everything shall be ready upon your return m’lord.” The speaker buzzed with giving a sense of finality and the conversation ended there.
He was now an outlaw in his own sector, due to the bottomless vaults of the Assembly. Every one of his officials had been bribed to draw up false documents that would incriminate Zuchek of treason. He refused to attend the hearing that was held for his defense, for he knew that the Assembly had gone through too much to have their plan fowled up by the decision of the court. Zuchek fled. This was the evident reason for the attack on his body, but he had his suspicions on the real reason that someone intended him harm. The only people that could be trusted were his servants, and not even they would stay loyal for long he feared.
As he had presumed, his psy-scythes were recovered during the battle and he attached one on each hip in case of trouble. He also hid up his sleeve a small blaster that could be concealed in the palm of his hand. With those preparations made, he ventured out into the marketplace.

As he had suspected, upon his arrival at the outskirts of the mart, a small brigand of armed men met him and commanded him to stop. He could tell by the insignia upon their left breast that they were high ranking city guards.
“I don’t have time for this foolishness,” he muttered to himself as he continued his approach towards the men. When he was within arm’s reach, he fleetly unhooked his two psy-scythes from his hips and leaped into the air. He landed nimbly on his feet in the middle of this small group. The second he landed, he began to gyrate the scythes around in his hands, gutting a few of his would-be assassins and beheading a few of the others.
“That even it out a bit.”
There were now four assailants, and if he was correct in reading his past reports, the blue on their insignia indicated that they were of training rank and would be of no problem. A kick to the teeth put one man out of commission while the other three stood there dumb-founded. This gave Zuchek time to remove the concealed blaster he had and take out two of the remaining men. He approached the last one able to do anything, kicking the one that he had earlier in the spine, with a confidence that struck the assailant immobile. Zuchek quickly disarmed the man and stole the purse of platinum that hung in a small sack at the man’s side.
“I have a message for your current employers, you slimy piece of cthua crap. You tell them that they had best keep out of my business or else each attempt that they send will result in the same way that this small skirmish did. I still have many people with sympathies that lean my way and I will be ahead of you every step of the way. Got that?”
The man nodded.
“Good, now get out of my sight and don’t let me catch you again,” Zuchek said. With this comment, before the man had time to flee, Zuchek got a good look at the call sign of the trainee and took a mental note of it for future reference. He casually walked through the fallen bodies, stole their weapons and the money that they had acquired, illegally most likely. After finishing his check of the bodies, he continued into the city and gave the man that he had paralyzed a blaster shot between the eyes to end his suffering.

The cesspool of disease and decay that he saw as he ventured farther into the marketplace stunned Zuchek. The knowledge that he had let a place like this run itself into shambles made him shudder and make the decision not to make his identity widely known here. The inhabitants were not likely to be sympathizers with their fallen emperor. Perhaps if he had spent more time dealing with maters in this material world, worried about his empire’s problems in this material world. But alas, it was not so. Instead, he had spent time delving into the knowledge and the power of the world beyond. As far as he knew, he was the only one who had been able to tap into this power source, successfully that is, and quite possibly the only one who knew about it. No, that was impossible. The Assembly must have at least known about it, and in all likelihood feared Zuchek because they themselves had not been able to harness the power, let alone understand it. That must have been the reason why they had set him up.
Zuchek contemplated about this as he approached a small, weathered building, only made known to him by the reports of much criminal activity localized around this structure. These men were the only men who could fulfill the request that Zuchek was about to lay down before them.
As he entered the building, he realized that the exterior of this building was merely a façade, concealing the true nature of this establishment. There was a hustle and bustle of people milling around in certain areas and what appeared to be a meeting of some sort taking, place in a darkened corner. As he walked down the dimly lit corridor, he felt many pairs of eyes watching him. He even caught glimpses of a few of the men doing the spying.
“Sloppy work,” he laughed aloud to himself.
When he had reached the antechamber of the building, a small, pasty-skinned man with a red beard and beady green eyes knelt down before him in mock salutations, “M’lord Zuchek.”
“Skip the formalities, my good man,” Zuchek replied, not revealing to the small man that he had noticed the touch of contempt and disrespect in his voice and the greeting.
“As you wish m’lord.” Now what, may I ask, brings you to our humble abode?”
“I have need of a few… items… yes, that’s it… items… that only you can provide me with.”
“And what might these… items as you call them… be?”
“They might be a few potions and some parts for my ship.”
“I believe that some arrangements can be made. Follow me,” the little man snapped as he began to skitter off into another, darker corridor with the former emperor tagging along behind like a small lap dog.

“750… 800… 850… 875. There, you have your money, now where are my purchases?” Zuchek snapped at the past-skinned man.
“They are ready to go and are waiting for your arrival at the entrance to this building. I strongly suggest that you gather them rather quickly before some thief runs off with them. Now that would be a shame, would it not?” The man snapped back with a hint of malice in his voice.
“I thank you, kind sir,” Zuchek hollered over his shoulder as he was already halfway down the dimly lit corridor heading back outside.
Luckily, his purchases were still where the man had said they would be. He placed the potions in a pouch at his side and carried his ship’s parts in his arms.

On the excursion back to his palace, Zuchek felt a wave of fear and uncertainty wash over him. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before, and strangely, and seemed to have originated from that intangible world.
Just then, a group of fifteen fully armed men stepped out into the road before him. To either side, fifteen men also stepped out, ready to attack at the drop of a hat. Directly ahead of him, before the group of men stood, two of the royal guards stood. Both of them were clearly recognizable, one even more than the other. The more discernable of the two was covered in dust, yet still, under all of that dust, a blue insignia could be seen. Next to him was a guard with a different colored regalia… bright red. His armor was untarnished, a sign that he had not been in battle.
Darams!
Darams Y’Gleck was the chief advisor to the emperor on all military affairs.
“That slimy son-of-a-,” but his thought was cut short by the sound of blaster fire. They were shooting at him! He dropped the bundle in his hands to his side and drew his psy-scythes. One shot was blocked after another, but eventually one round got through. He had been hit square in the chest. The force alone from that shot knocked him off his feet and plunged him into a state of unconsciousness.

This time when he awoke, he was not in his cushy room in his comfortable bed. It was in fact quite the contrary. He lay on a slab of concrete, his sides bandaged from an obvious beating he had received while unconscious. He looked as if he had been dragged through dozens of miles through a bju patch and his appearance did not contradict the way he felt.
Surely enough, he had been disarmed and completely robbed. The only things he was left with were the clothes on his back. He was lucky even to have those. He knew of the perverse pleasures that his soldiers took part in but had never done anything about it. He started to have regrets about that now. He couldn’t be sure that they hadn’t taken their pleasure from him. All he could do now was hope that he had not been violated during his captivity.

Zuchek’s captors took every precaution to prevent him from escaping. When served his dinner, he was not even allowed the privilege of using silverware. To add to this, there was nothing in his entire cell that had even the remote possibility to be able to break and create a shiv or even a lock pick. His plates however were in desperate need of replacement for they were all chipped and broken. When noticing this fact, a plan began to formulate in his head. One night, or maybe it was morning, it was hard to tell, instead of eating, he purposely dropped his plate of food on the floor. One of the larger pieces of the wreckage somehow managed to find its way up Zuchek’s sleeve.
Upon hearing the shattering noise, the two guards placed with the duty of guarding the cell that Zuchek was in came barging into the cell. “What’s goin’ on in ‘ere?” One of the guards demanded, making a gesture towards the mess on the floor.
“You morons made my food too hot. I dropped it.”
The fact that they had just been called morons infuriated the two men and they began to advance upon the prisoner whom they thought was unarmed. They were wrong. The first man who lunged at Zuchek found this out first-hand. The attack was easily side stepped and gave the opening Zuchek needed. In one quick motion, the piece of shattered plate appeared in Zuchek’s hand and fleetly descended down, lodging itself between the attacker’s shoulder blades. The guard’s face twisted in agony as the blood slowly drained out of the now lifeless face. The mess of food on the floor became tinted red at that moment.
Seeing his partner gored in the back like that made the other guard wince for a moment. Despite the fact that they were killing their former leader, you could not dispute the fact that they were still human. During this window of opportunity, Zuchek leaped at the flabbergasted guard and placed the palm of his hand on his victim’s face.
“Burn!” Zuchek screamed as he let the energy from that world beyond flow through him. The guard instantaneously burst into flames. Zuchek thereupon removed his hand from his victim, leaving him to write and scream on the floor.
Surveying the other corpse he had left behind, he noticed a set of jail keys. He removed the keys from the man’s belt as well as taking the blaster and chest plate belonging to the fallen guard.
After situating the chest plate on himself, Zuchek stepped out of his cell, pausing for a moment to stretch before embarking on the journey to freedom. Down the hallway there were cells similar to his, all hosting a variety of species. He quickly undid the locks of all the cells and released all of the prisoners, sending them off in the opposite direction from that of which he was heading.
“That ought to keep them occupied for a while,” he chuckled to himself.
At the end of the hallway was a small room with a wooden table in the center. His weapons and the purchases he had made earlier were sitting on that table, surrounded by ten fully armed guards.
“Cripes,” Zuchek whispered to himself, “what now?”
As if reading his thoughts, some sort of sentient being from the world that he was able to tap into for power began to transfer a formulated plan into Zuchek’s head. As soon as the plan had run through in his mind he put it into action. He found a small pebble at his feet, picked it up, and threw it into the doorway opposite to the corridor he was currently in. The sound of small rock striking the stone wall startled the guards so three were sent to investigate. In the instant they turned their backs Zuchek let loose three blaster bolts, each one hitting a guard squarely in the back. This added even more to the confusion of the guards for, as much as it pained him to admit it, Zuchek’s guards weren’t the sharpest shivs on the rack. Once again, three guards went to investigate the recent attack on his buddies. Just as before, all three fell to a blaster shot in the back. The four remaining guards seemed to be the smarter of the bunch, seeing as they had noticed that their cohorts had been shot in the back. That kind of shot could only have come from one direction. They glanced over to the shadows that girdled Zuchek and began walking towards a dull green patch in the darkness.

Zuchek became a green blur, dashing to between the four guards to the wooden table in the center of the room. Quickly he picked up one of his psy-scythes and enveloped the blade in the bright redness of his aura. Slowly he began his advance. It was no wonder this city was in shambles. The guards standing before Zuchek were too dumb to even call for reinforcements with the intercom on the wall! They didn’t even have the intelligence to hit the warning button! The four guards tried to draw their weapons, but it was too late. Seeing the motion for their blasters, Zuchek sped up his approach and sliced down all four of the guards before they even had time to flinch. After surveying the remains of his former security staff, Zuchek piled all of the corpses in a dark corner where no one would notice them.
He was now breathing hard, a rarity in itself (as if everything that happened was completely normal). He must have taken a few busted ribs from the beating his captors gave him. There was no time to worry about that now.
After gathering his belongings from the table, Zuchek decided that he should take some more precautions than just the stolen guard armor that he now adorned himself with. He went into the corner in which the dead guards now lay and examined each of them thoroughly. At last he came to one with a green insignia on his breast, a sign of the General status. He pawed through the pouch at the man’s side until he came to an ID card.
“This ought to help a little,” he snickered to himself as he headed for the exit to the building.
As fate would have it, he was stopped on his way out by a guard. Lucky enough for him, it was one of the generic guards who never had the chance to meet their Lord.
“Where are you taking those?” the guard demanded.
“Darams wishes for these to be brought to him for inspection.”
“Have you no respect, insolent fool, address him by his title, Lord Darams.
“Cripes!” Zuchek gasped to himself, “My own power is being taken over by the man whom I had thought to be my most faithful advisor. “I did not know that he wished to be addressed by that title. News does not quickly reach us down here in the pit. I will keep that in mind and remember you for your graciousness in aiding me to keep my head, …”
“Arnez,” the guard filled in.
“Arnez,” Zuchek repeated and continued on his journey to the outside.

At last! Zuchek had finally managed to escape from that wretched building. Unfortunately for him, his palace was no larger than a vonyer on the horizon.

Zuchek spent several weeks walking through the woods, carefully avoiding all encampments. When he reached his palace, he was exhausted and not only needed to rest, but to heal. He climbed into his medical healing unit and fell asleep.
Hours passed while he lay there sleeping, but he finally came to and was ready to leave. It was now dusk, optimal for a take off that was intended to be unnoticed. He took with him a box from his treasury of three million vonyers, an assault laser rifle, his psy-scythes, and the purchases he had made in the market.
Once he exited the atmosphere of his planet and was travelling through the vacuum of space he was able to rest a little easier. He set his ship, The Orbiter, on auto-pilot and went back to the galley for a bite to eat. Despite the fact that he was no gourmet chef, compared to what he had eaten in captivity and on the run, this dish of fried squid brains tasted like a delicacy and felt like a feast. He quickly ingested all of it and ejected the now empty bowl into space.
Zuchek then sat back down at the table and began to think of how he should exact his revenge. As it had before, the sentient being from the other world began to send possible plans into Zuchek’s head. He finally decided upon one that seemed to suit the occasion and ran it through in his head one last time to confirm it. Yes, it should work. It would work, but in order for the plan to go smoothly, there were a few things he needed to take care of first.



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And he smiled as he said, with a twinkle in his eye, "Merry Christmas to all, now you're all gonna DIE!"