02-07-2017, 06:04 PM
Captain Desh swiftly marched through the halls of a Tier 1 hospital. Word had reached him that a secondary had been wounded in the assault on the Vorticons, and he was not pleased. Zedd had been warned about letting harm befall his group. Granted, combat was filled with unexpected variables, but Zedd’s open admission that he cared little for their well-being didn’t give him much credit.
The dark lord of unspeakable terror stood before a vending machine near the nurse’s station, studying the various bags of chips with his arms crossed and a contemplative head tilt. Zedd wasn’t difficult to spot, being a sharp contrast to the overall cleanliness and normalness of this facility. Otherworldly beings were a less common sight in this particular hospital, as the primes could take care of themselves and the secondaries were just less common. Regardless, Desh marched right up to Zedd, removing his white helmet as he did, to reveal an expression of anger. Zedd didn’t even turn to greet him.
“What’s the deal?” Desh demanded, skipping past the usual passive-aggressive runaround he normally had to go through with Zedd.
Zedd did not answer immediately, as he pondered his words for a moment while surveying the contents of the machine. Finally, he spoke his dilemma. “I am told ‘Sour Cream and Onion’ is a desirable flavor, however I am also intrigued by this ‘Nacho Cheese’ option in the top right corner.”
“Dammit Zedd,” Desh snapped in a commanding enough tone to get Zedd’s attention. It wasn’t respect that made the dark lord turn to his officer, but disbelief at the audacity that he would be spoken to in such a way. Desh knew it, but didn’t care. Zedd was focused on him. “What happened to Knox?”
“He was left to fend for himself, as any good soldier should be able to,” Zedd calmly explained, though the contempt for everything about his current life was clear in his voice. “Your training was inadequate, so now he is here. They are preparing to use something called Bacta to fix his wounds.”
Desh let out a sigh of relief. He’d assigned the Stormtroopers to this maniac, so he felt responsibility for whatever happened to them, since it was clear Zedd didn’t.
“What is Bacta?” Zedd quested the commander, as he was still unsure of the various tools this realm used.
“It’s a powerful healing substance,” Desh explained. “Apply it to a wound or submerge a person in it, and it will quickly fix any damage. It’ll have Knox back on his feet in no time at all.”
“Then I desire it for myself, as well,” Zedd demanded, raising his tone just slightly. Surely, he had much use for something like that.
Desh could only roll his eyes. “Yea, whatever, Zedd. We’ll get you some fucking Bacta. Where’s Cade and the rest of them?”
“The other peons are with him in his room,” Zedd continued, turning back to the vending machine to study his choices some more. “Well, my issued peons. The blue one and her jester went to headquarters.”
“I know. Sull got the debriefing,” Desh confirmed, keeping his eyes on the warlord.
“I only asked of him what I would ask of anyone under my command,” Zedd announced, preempting the next topic of conversation he could foresee. “I do not wish to hear a lecture on how I was supposed to babysit them.”
Desh scoffed. “I’m just surprised you came to the hospital with the rest of them.”
“I remembered your words about protecting them, so I only suggested we abandon him three times,” Zedd replied. “However, I would like a new one to replace him.”
“They stay together, but I’m taking them out of your command for a little bit,” Desh decided. “They need some additional training, and I have a few tasks that I need them for, but not you. You’re going to be on your own for just a little bit.”
“I weep,” Zedd’s tone was dry, with just the right amount of sarcasm mixed in.
“Yea, I know,” Desh rolled his eyes. “We don’t have anything for you to do, and it’s probably just as well. Lay low for a little bit. Let this whole ‘wrecked Tier 7’ thing blow over. Try using this time to learn a bit more about the Omniverse, so I don’t have to keep answering your questions.”
“Now I am to go on a pilgrimage?” Zedd asked the Stormtrooper. “Where would I even go to start learning?”
“I don’t really give a damn, Zedd,” Desh barked, taking a few steps back. “Just don’t do anything that ends up on my desk. I’ll call you when we need you.”
“Lord Zedd,” the dark lord’s correction was the only parting words he offered as Desh disappeared down the hall, towards the wounded trooper’s room.
Zedd was left to contemplate that. Desh was right, as much as he hated to admit it. The layout and politics of the Omniverse were a mystery to him, still, and it would be wise to know more about the land he wished to conquer. He would take any opportunity to seek an advantage, no matter how slight. He could use this time to understand the Empire, too. He could find their flaws, now that he knew a little bit more about what they were like. And it was all on company time. It left him with a feeling that resembled joy to know the Imperials wanted him to go find ways to undermine them.
The quiet grind of the hospital was interrupted briefly by Zedd’s maniacal laughter, though as the nurses and doctors weren’t privy to the inner-workings of his head. They only saw him uncrossing his arms, while intently studying the bags of chips. He finally mashed a button. Zedd was beginning to grasp this realm, and he felt bold and daring for it.
Barbeque.
The dark lord of unspeakable terror stood before a vending machine near the nurse’s station, studying the various bags of chips with his arms crossed and a contemplative head tilt. Zedd wasn’t difficult to spot, being a sharp contrast to the overall cleanliness and normalness of this facility. Otherworldly beings were a less common sight in this particular hospital, as the primes could take care of themselves and the secondaries were just less common. Regardless, Desh marched right up to Zedd, removing his white helmet as he did, to reveal an expression of anger. Zedd didn’t even turn to greet him.
“What’s the deal?” Desh demanded, skipping past the usual passive-aggressive runaround he normally had to go through with Zedd.
Zedd did not answer immediately, as he pondered his words for a moment while surveying the contents of the machine. Finally, he spoke his dilemma. “I am told ‘Sour Cream and Onion’ is a desirable flavor, however I am also intrigued by this ‘Nacho Cheese’ option in the top right corner.”
“Dammit Zedd,” Desh snapped in a commanding enough tone to get Zedd’s attention. It wasn’t respect that made the dark lord turn to his officer, but disbelief at the audacity that he would be spoken to in such a way. Desh knew it, but didn’t care. Zedd was focused on him. “What happened to Knox?”
“He was left to fend for himself, as any good soldier should be able to,” Zedd calmly explained, though the contempt for everything about his current life was clear in his voice. “Your training was inadequate, so now he is here. They are preparing to use something called Bacta to fix his wounds.”
Desh let out a sigh of relief. He’d assigned the Stormtroopers to this maniac, so he felt responsibility for whatever happened to them, since it was clear Zedd didn’t.
“What is Bacta?” Zedd quested the commander, as he was still unsure of the various tools this realm used.
“It’s a powerful healing substance,” Desh explained. “Apply it to a wound or submerge a person in it, and it will quickly fix any damage. It’ll have Knox back on his feet in no time at all.”
“Then I desire it for myself, as well,” Zedd demanded, raising his tone just slightly. Surely, he had much use for something like that.
Desh could only roll his eyes. “Yea, whatever, Zedd. We’ll get you some fucking Bacta. Where’s Cade and the rest of them?”
“The other peons are with him in his room,” Zedd continued, turning back to the vending machine to study his choices some more. “Well, my issued peons. The blue one and her jester went to headquarters.”
“I know. Sull got the debriefing,” Desh confirmed, keeping his eyes on the warlord.
“I only asked of him what I would ask of anyone under my command,” Zedd announced, preempting the next topic of conversation he could foresee. “I do not wish to hear a lecture on how I was supposed to babysit them.”
Desh scoffed. “I’m just surprised you came to the hospital with the rest of them.”
“I remembered your words about protecting them, so I only suggested we abandon him three times,” Zedd replied. “However, I would like a new one to replace him.”
“They stay together, but I’m taking them out of your command for a little bit,” Desh decided. “They need some additional training, and I have a few tasks that I need them for, but not you. You’re going to be on your own for just a little bit.”
“I weep,” Zedd’s tone was dry, with just the right amount of sarcasm mixed in.
“Yea, I know,” Desh rolled his eyes. “We don’t have anything for you to do, and it’s probably just as well. Lay low for a little bit. Let this whole ‘wrecked Tier 7’ thing blow over. Try using this time to learn a bit more about the Omniverse, so I don’t have to keep answering your questions.”
“Now I am to go on a pilgrimage?” Zedd asked the Stormtrooper. “Where would I even go to start learning?”
“I don’t really give a damn, Zedd,” Desh barked, taking a few steps back. “Just don’t do anything that ends up on my desk. I’ll call you when we need you.”
“Lord Zedd,” the dark lord’s correction was the only parting words he offered as Desh disappeared down the hall, towards the wounded trooper’s room.
Zedd was left to contemplate that. Desh was right, as much as he hated to admit it. The layout and politics of the Omniverse were a mystery to him, still, and it would be wise to know more about the land he wished to conquer. He would take any opportunity to seek an advantage, no matter how slight. He could use this time to understand the Empire, too. He could find their flaws, now that he knew a little bit more about what they were like. And it was all on company time. It left him with a feeling that resembled joy to know the Imperials wanted him to go find ways to undermine them.
The quiet grind of the hospital was interrupted briefly by Zedd’s maniacal laughter, though as the nurses and doctors weren’t privy to the inner-workings of his head. They only saw him uncrossing his arms, while intently studying the bags of chips. He finally mashed a button. Zedd was beginning to grasp this realm, and he felt bold and daring for it.
Barbeque.
![[Image: zedd2018.png]](http://epiqz.com/mysigs/zedd2018.png)