Chapter Text
When Olga started regained consciousness, her head still throbbing from the near-suffocation of being in space without proper gear, she realized she was not in the Communiverse anymore. As her vision cleared, she noticed the atmosphere was much darker and hotter. She was on a sort of… observation deck, with high ceilings and towering windows looking out at the vast space beyond.
The panic set in as memories of what had happened flooded back into her mind: Grigon’s threat to the Communiverse, his grappling hook seizing her, dragging her out into space.
Elio! He was still in the Communiverse! She had to get him out of there before–!
Something suddenly rose from the floor, making Olga crawl back in fright as horns blared a dark tune, accompanied by flames shooting out at the sides of the large pedestal. Once it had completely risen, the pedestal opened dramatically, revealing a towering, four-legged shape, the same Olga had seen in the council chambers: Lord Grigon.
“You’re finally awake.” Said Grigon, stepping out of the pedestal, his four angry-looking eyes looking at the Uh-Earthling up and down. “How pathetic.”
Olga would have liked to point out that, unlike him, she couldn’t breathe in space, but from what she’d seen back in the auditorium, this guy had a very short fuse, and saying anything he could deem as talking back might anger him, so she held that comment back.
“S-Sir–Your Lordship,” Olga stuttered, scrambling back to her feet, her brain still processing the fact that she’d been abducted twice, and this time, the alien in question looked anything but friendly. “I-I don’t know what I did to you, or what you think I did to you, but–”
Grigon’s arm transformed into a sort of pistol. “Hylurgians prefer to negotiate with screams in the air,” he growled, turning to a large balcony connected to his parlor. “PULL!
Someone tossed a colorful little bird-like alien into the air. Olga paled as Lord Grigon took aim and fired a big blast from his weapon at it, and the little creature exploded in a puff of feathers.
That might as well be her if she didn’t tread carefully.
Grigon, unfazed, calmly removed his laser arm and handed it to a soldier. “Recoil’s a little heavy,” he said, then turned to his ‘guest.’ “Your turn.”
Just as Grigon began to sit, several soldiers hurried over and arranged themselves into the shape of this throne, just in time to catch him as he sat—Olga briefly wondered what would happen to them if they’d arranged a little too late—while a few other soldiers crouched beside him, creating a small table and an ottoman of sorts.
Realizing what he wanted of her, Olga cleared her throat. “I’m afraid I don’t have a weapon like yours, sir.” She said, hoping that would be enough to get out of shooting alien critters.
Something mechanical rose from the floor: a table of weapons.
“Use one of mine,” offered Grigon with a sneer.
Damn.
“T-Thank you.”
With no other choice, Olga examined the weapons laid out, and opted to pick the smallest one. It seemed simple enough, with a trigger and handle, much like a pistol, but bigger and with glowing red patterns. As she lifted it, she found it to be much heavier too, almost as the backpacks she had to carry during her early days of military training, but thankfully she managed to lift it up.
Grigon watched his ‘rival’, if she could be called that, as she examined his stash of weapons and, surprisingly, picked up the small blaster, against all expectations. It seemed to be heavier than she was used to, but her body language showed she was familiar with weapons. This is going to be… entertaining.
“PULL!” shouted Grigon.
The soldier on the other side of the balcony tossed another bird-like creature into the air. Grigon looked down at Olga expectantly.
For once, Olga was grateful for the hunting trips her uncle Mateo would take her and Joaquín during their summer breaks. Taking a deep breath, she raised the pistol, aimed it at the bird, and fired. A small missile flew from her weapon and hit the target. Briefly, Olga felt bad for the little bird as it tried to float away, but if she had to choose between it and her own life, she’d choose the latter.
“Not bad for a puny creature,” Lord Grigon chuckled approvingly. “Perhaps we can communicate.” He held up his cannon and shouted, “PULL.” A group of bird aliens was thrown into the air. “But those Communiverse weaklings look at me like I’m some kind of monster. How dare they reject me?!”
I wonder why, Olga thought as Grigon angrily blasted the birds.
“What does that have to do with me?” she asked warily. “I mean, I’m not even one of them.”
“Perhaps, but as the other candidate, that makes you my rival. Why would they even pick you over me, anyway?!”
“Well, for starters, I didn’t blow up their ceiling.” Said Olga, frowning a bit. “Why are you so obsessed with getting into the Communiverse, anyway?”
“Why, you ask?” asked Grigon bitterly. “The Communiverse is where the greatest leaders gather! Am I not great?”
Olga thought carefully about what to say next. One wrong word, and any chances of saving Elio—and his new alien ‘friends’—would go right out the window.
“I’m sure you are, sir. More of a reason not to waste your time with them.” She said, using the gentle but firm tone she’d often use with her nephew. “The ‘weaklings’ don’t want you? Just… get over it and try with someone at your level.”
As Grigon pondered her words, he glimpsed a soldier hovering meekly in the doorway. The warlord sighed with irritation. “What, Worco? What is it?”
Worco nervously stammered. “Your Wrath, the princeling wants to see you.”
“Oh, for the hate of–! Tell him I’m busy!” snapped Grigon. He sighed, exasperated, as Worco scurried away. “You are a parent, right? I saw your kid back at the Communiverse.”
Olga’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Elio. “You could say so, sir–Your Wrath. He’s actually my nephew, but I’ve been raising him since–”
“Then you know what I’m talking about. It is so difficult!” interrupted Grigon with a sigh. “He has no concept of the importance of my work.”
To Olga’s surprise, Grigon’s four eyes reflected not anger, but… frustration, a sentiment she was very familiar with.
“… I know the feeling.” She admitted, crossing her arms. “My nephew is a good kid, but it’s so… difficult talking to him sometimes.”
“Has he caused problems that nearly resulted in an intergalactic war with your closest allies?”
Cielo santo. “Almost. He caused a blackout that nearly cost me my job.”
She jumped, startled, as Grigon bellowed. “Finally, someone gets it!” he said, his tone shifting and his body language becoming more relaxed. “Sounds like he needs an exemplary punishment.”
“I know what he did what’s wrong, but… I don’t think an ‘exemplary punishment’ will help at this point.”
Grigon raised an invisible eyebrow. He made a gesture, and one soldier stretched out a leg to act as a small ‘seat’ for his rival.
Olga had to admit it was… nice of him. She climbed onto the soldier’s leg to sit on it.
“Come again?” asked Grigon curiously.
“He’s having… We are having a hard time. His parents… My brother… they died in an accident a few years ago, and it’s been the two of us ever since. But Elio is a… particular child. He has no friends, he’s got this obsession with aliens, and when I try to get him to open up to people, to me, he just… he shuts me out.” Olga wiped her eyes with her forearm. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel so… alone.”
The alien warlord’s expression shifted completely. Olga couldn’t put a finger on it, but it looked like… sympathy? Sadness? Either looked so… out of place in the hulking, war-mongering alien who’d just fired missiles at innocent bird aliens.
Noticing the unshed tears and deep sorrow in his supposed rival’s eyes, Grigon felt a… tugging in his chest at the Uh-Earthling’s troubles… Troubles he was too familiar with.
“… I’m… I’m sorry about your… loss.” Said Grigon, his voice gentle but somewhat awkward. Then he cleared his throat and regained his composure. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll use you as target practice.”
Somehow, Olga had the feeling it was a joke, but she still stifled back a laugh, just in case. But he seemed to be more… casual now. Perhaps now would be a good time to make her petition.
Olga got off her ’seat’, stood in front of the warlord, and bowed. “Your Wrath, please… My nephew is in the Communiverse. I beg you, don’t destroy it.”
Grigon’s digital eyes softened again as the sensation in his chest intensified. He… He hasn’t felt something like this in a long time, not since…The Blood Emperor shook his head, pushing the memories out of his mind, his expression hardening. It’s all in the past.
“What is your name, Uh-Earthian?” asked Grigon, catching Olga—and his soldiers—by surprise. He never asked his captives for their names.
“Olga Solís.” Olga replied quickly. “Does that mean you’re sparing the Communiverse?”
“Oh, no, I’m still blowing them up.” He clarified. Grigon reached out a claw to lift her chin with a finger to look into her eyes, grinning. “But fear not, Olga Solís. I’ll make sure your nephew is not on it when I blow them into a thousand smithereens!” He looked at one of his soldiers who was still on his feet. “Grok, take my guest to her chambers.”
The hulking soldier grabbed Olga’s arm, and as he dragged her out of the observation deck, she glanced back at Grigon one last time as he turned toward the stars out the window, hands behind his back, before the doors slammed shut.