Ahh, such confidence in writing. I reckon that's what I'd call it, anyway. I like the character Emlech, quite unique.

Thanks Searge. Emlech will have quite a roll to play so I'm glad you like him. The question is, will you like him when he's played that roll?
The first part of chapter 7 has been edited, so feel free to check it out. It's still not perfect, but it's definately better.

Whoo, I'm finally up to date, so when is that next chapter coming out?

Heh it was pretty funny in the previous chapter when you were describing how old Holes was, then shortly after that you said he 'gave in.'
I now know that you meant he gave in to Krik's annoying demands, but at the time I thought you meant Holes had died.
I realized my folly when Holes is suddenly alive again thinking positive of Krik's work.
Was I the only reader who thought Holes was dead?

T-nex forced me to stay online till after midnight last night working on the next chapter. I've also had to PM Max the Mug a few times to ask him for information on Skillya, Maggie and Sam. The next chapter is starting to take shape in my mind and I've just finished my most recent Wars of the Art picture so I should hopefully have the next chapter done by Saturday.
EDIT: Was it this story you noticed that spelling thing Venks? Cus I searched and didn't find it.

EDIT (again): Just finished the chapter so it'll be released on Saturday. Ought to mention that I'm rating it for teenagers only (or older of course). Anyone who knows about what Skillya does to the sligs who displease her will be able to figure out why.
If you are under 13 I can't stop you from reading it; just remember you have been warned. I've added a few lines into the prologue and to chapter 6 to bring Skillya to attention a little more, since I think she should have had more of a mention what with Tilic turning traitor and all.

Oops silly me, I thought it was actually in your story, but nope its in that post.

By golly; it's my first ever midnight update! (though it is of course half past midnight. You can probably guess my mother isn't around).

As I mentioned on Thursday, due to disturbing content (not gory, just disturbing) this chapter is recommended for use by teens or older only. I of course can't stop you reading it; just remember you've been warned. I'll stick a summary at the end of the chapter and also say why it's recommended for teens only so that if you don't want to risk it you don't have to.
I might have gone a little too far in this one. Not sure myself; I've asked a few people and they've said it's ok, but I value your opinions greatly, so let me know!
I think the ending of this chapter looses impact, so tell me about that as well. Be honest; your criticism helps me improve!

On with the show.


Two days after the meeting, Emlech came round to the lab where Krik worked to pick up his supply of DNAse (which as Krik had predicted was by then widely used and accepted) and left 17 million moolah poorer, but carrying a piece of paper that would shape the rest of his life.

Krik, with his desperately needed money in hand, quickly paid off the debts to his investors and left the lab where he was employed before any awkward questions could be asked. Wanting to keep a low profile, he used a small portion of the three million he had left and rented and stocked out a small lab, He found another vykker with an eye for genetics who agreed to share the lab and pay half the rent under the condition that they stayed out of each others way. Over the next few years the two vykkers sent a fair portion of their time peering over each others shoulders and trying to work out what the other was doing, in case it was some idea that they could steal for themselves.

Krik hired an intern and spent the next three years dabbling on paramites and fuzzles and generally wasting time on pointless jobs. He was by now used to living richly and the money he kept back was used up rapidly. Krik was as sadistic as the next vykker, but he quickly became bored of just dabbling. He wanted to be doing something serious, something no one else had done before!

After two years of this when he was on the point of going broke again, he managed to get a job working for a wanna-be glukkon who had just opened a meat packing plant. Krik, now in his forties and a third of the way to his maximum life-expectancy, pieced together a few recipes for the glukkon which earned him a measly amount of money until better ideas replaced his own and he was politely but firmly ejected from the company. Krik, by now sick of the world, left with a few choice curse-words and only after informing the glukkon that he would never go anywhere. He never did accept the fact that he was just bad at the job.

Krik went back to money-wasting and later on took a job testing cosmetic products intended for use by the glukkon queen and leader of the Magog Cartel, Margaret. Queen Margaret was used to having her every whim seen to. She decided when makeup went out of fashion, which was rather frequently, and she demanded a constant supply of new products. All products had to be tested strenuously to make sure they wouldn’t harm her. Krik started off low in the testing company but when he started suggesting changes to be made to products to make them safer he was suddenly and rapidly promoted. His work on making the mock queen had given him a good knowledge of bio-chemistry and he was significantly better at this job that he was at his last one. Money began rolling in once more and he realised that working for the industrial queens was not at all a bad career choice if you were good at it. It was a pathway to fame and fortune.

He worked hard and ascended up the corporate ladder but developed a repulsion towards his work. He hated the thought of working for the creature who had ruined him before with her silly law shutting down his mock-queen research. After some thought he turned his attention towards the slig queen, Skillya.

Skillya was fairly young, bratty and obsessed with gold, jewellery. She hoarded gold, jewels and other shiny things like a dragon, and it was widely known she had the temperament of one as well. There were rumours beginning to form about the things she did to sligs who displeased her, ranging from bathing in their blood to cooking them alive and eating them. It made Krik grin just to think about it. He made up his mind for a career change and quit his job at the first opportunity.

This may not have been his wisest choice; for he learnt shortly afterwards that you couldn’t just get a job working for Skillya. She picked all her employees herself, and she only employed you if you got her attention. The problem with that was that most people who got Skillya’s attention ended up as pie filling (or so the rumours would have to believe).

Krik decided on a risky tactic. He started advertising that fact that he planned on doing behavioural modification experiments on sligs, to make them more obedient. This did not make Krik a very popular vykker. Obviously sligs hated the idea, and vykkers also began to avoid him like the plague, not wanting to have anything to do with him if Skillya came after him. Several days after he put his plan into action he got a letter from Emlech telling him to shut up before he got himself killed. Krik sent a reply stating that he knew what he was doing and Emlech should mind his own business. It was the last time they talked for many years.

Krik continued to advertise his intentions, and even begun gathering the tools he felt he would need for the experiment. As a finishing touch he sent out an advert asking for sligs to work for him. The pay was low and there was some risk of injury.

Two days later a pair of bulky sligs (big-bros not being around in those days) appeared at his front door in the afternoon. “Ah, excellent! You’ll be here for the job I assume. If you’ll just step this way…” Krik was going to take this as far as was necessary.

One of the sligs swore at him in Sliggish (at least Krik assumed he was swearing, since he knew nothing of the sligs’ language) and shoved a letter into his hand. He opened it. It was from Skillya, demanding he came to see her.

Krik grinned at the two sligs, “Fine. I’ll just go and pack a few things and then-”

He was cut off when both sligs raised their guns to point at him. “You’re coming now.” One growled. The next thing Krik knew, he was sat blindfolded in a train carriage (which he considered unnecessary, since there were no windows in the train).

Skillya was not as famous or as important as Margaret, but she was valuable and necessary none the less, so the Magog Cartel generally let her do what she wanted. The Vykker’s Council was less inclined to bow to her every whim but they had almost no power anymore and mostly went along with what Queen Margaret demanded.

The facility Krik arrived at seemed to have been shaped out of a series of caves, some natural, others almost certainly carved out by machine. It was a sparse place, lit with flickering strip lights and full of wide corridors which only emphasised the emptiness of the whole underground lair.

Krik was led to a small room furnished with a few uncomfortable benches and a much withered pot-plant which looked like it hadn’t been watered for several years. The room smelt heavily of air-freshener which masked another scent that Krik couldn’t quite make out, though he sniffed obviously for a while. He waited nearly an hour before a scared-looking slig emerged through a small door and ushered him through.

The chamber where Skillya spent her days was vast, a roughly ovular room carved out of the rock. Jewellery made from all metals and precious stones was heaped around, glittering in the dull artificial light that was barely sufficient to light the room, leaving the corners in darkness.

And in the centre, right in front of Krik, was the slig queen, Skillya. Despite being young (by a queens standards anyway) she was already massive, though that was normal. Her whole form was disgustingly ugly. Her large face, unmasked, bore unpleasant black eyes, puffy and sunken, that seemed too small for her head. She had face-tentacles like normal worker class sligs, though they were much longer and more splayed out. They were stained with what could have been grease or blood. Her fingers were long and slender, more like an intern’s than a sligs, though like a worker-class slig the middle one was much shorter than the others. She was adorned with necklaces and bracelets and her fingers and tentacles were covered with rings, though all the jewellery only served to emphasise her ugliness.

“Haah! Chuh ur Krik!” Was the first thing she said to him in a growling, hissing, grunting voice. Sliggish was a very different language from the normal Mudosian spoken by most other creatures on Oddworld. It consisted of sounds very different from that of the common language, clicks, growls and hisses all made it up. For that reason some sligs struggled to speak it properly, but Skillya was ten times worse than any slig Krik had heard. A conversation with her was nerve-racking, fearing to misunderstand her and offend her (and she wasn’t difficult to offend), as she made no secret of what she did to those who upset her.

This was brought home to Krik by the two sligs who walked towards him carrying a platter of steaming meat. The two sligs were keeping their body language neutral, hiding their emotions. It took Krik a few seconds to understand why.

The platter bore three dead sligs, cooked in their skins, their heads removed. The plate was brought over to Krik and Skillya gestured with a hand, offering him the meat. The idea was suddenly much less entertaining to Krik now he realised it was more than a mere rumour. “No thank you,” He barely managed to stutter to the sligs, a lump forming in his throat. Skillya smiled at him cunningly and gestured to the two sligs, who brought the platter to her. She selected one of the cooked sligs carefully and picked it up before looking at Krik and hissing softly, “I’rn exriintin hih cookin,”

‘I’m experimenting with cooking’ Krik translated for himself as she lifted the poor dead slig to her mouth and bit into it. Grease and blood ran down her face and fingers and when Krik realised she was eating one of her own children he had to look away. He fixed his stare on one of the piles of treasure as he listened to her chew.

“Ur rak hi corktion?” ‘You like my collection?’

“It’s diverse,” Krik answered quickly, “Very varied, very…” He grasped for a word, “Alluring.”

He glanced back at her. She was grinning at him, obviously enjoying seeing him so intimidated. He looked away again quickly when he realised she was still eating and fixed his gaze at another heap of gold.

“Ki Marratt s so enerse,” She hissed. Krik was only just paying attention and merely nodded stiffly. He knew scrabs sometimes ate their young, when food was scarce.

“Ur exhirrent too, hyes?”

He recognised ‘Ur’ as ‘You’ and snapped to attention. “Yes,” He said quickly, “Yes, I- I like to experiment… I see… I want to see how things… fit together… so I can make them b-better.” He forced himself to look in her direction. She was chewing the meat off of the slig’s tail.

“Ur hon tur exrihent un sha childen, hyes?” ‘On her children,’

“Yes, uh, yes.” The idea was however beginning to seem less appealing with every mouthful, especially if it meant working near her. No amount of moolah was worth this! However, he was glancing at the platter bearing the cooked sligs and imagining his own cooked body sitting there. Somehow he didn’t like the idea of telling Queen Skillya that he had suddenly had a change of heart.

She was silent for a while, slowly savouring the last of her child’s meat, and dropping the bones onto the platter as stripped them of flesh. Finally she threw the last bone down and ushered the sligs holding the platter away. They made for the door, going as fast as they could without looking like they were hurrying. She sat watching them, looking amused, while she sucked the grease from her fingers.

“Ah car suh hutch hur sha childen. I udn han then eein haarnt.” ‘I care so much for my children. I wouldn’t want them being harmed.’

He assumed she was making a joke. He started speaking in a rush, “They wouldn’t be harmed overly much; just a few blood tests. The ones I test on might-”

She put up a hand and he fell silent with a gasp, as if his voice had been sucked out. “Hot ur chu to then?”

“What will I… Oh! I apologise, I didn’t-” The look of impatience, building to anger made him stop and stutter for a few seconds, “B-Behaviour modification! Change the way they act; make them more obedient.”

She looked at him unpleasantly, “Eh diso-ey, eh ent uh here!” She slapped her stomach. ‘They disobey, they end up here.’

For a few seconds Krik thought she meant that the thought of what she would do to disobedient sligs was deterrent enough, but then the more unpleasant thought that she wanted them to misbehave so she could punish them came to his mind. He was fighting a battle he would have a hard time winning.

“Buh-but, if they, if they’re obedient, the Cartel will reward you more!” What was he doing! He wanted to get out of this job; why was he fighting his case like this?

Skillya stared at him for what seemed to Krik to be a very long time; he cringed. Then her eyes drifted up to gaze at the piles of gold and silver and jewels around the room. “Hot harren tu cha sligs ur oose?”

“Uh, not… Most will be just blood tests, nothing permanent or… damaging. Some I’ll need to test on. They might… suffer illnesses, mental retardation,” She gave him an uncomprehending look, “Insanity. Some might go insane, or loose the ability to use parts of their bodies.”

“Ainhul?” ‘Painful?’

“For some.”

She looked thoughtful, gazing at the piles of gold and silver heaped around the room. Then a sickly grin spread across her face. She turned her eyes back on Krik, “Hi do bissniss. Hurk tukether. Ur hurk here!”

Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to refuse. He wanted nothing more than to run out of there and never have to look at that disgusting, cannibalistic monster of a slig-mother again. “Yes. I’ll work here.” He felt as if he’d just signed his own death sentence.

Her grin widened, “I kish ur sligs ur need. Ur ask, I kish.” ’I’ll give you sligs you need.’
“Thank you.”

“Ar sligs rink ur thinks here. Ur hurk fur he now!”

‘My sligs bring your things here. You work for me now!’

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Comments! Did I take it too far? Did the ending lack impact because I had to translate what she said? Were her speeches too hard to translate yourself? Reply! Tell me!

The stuff about Skillya cooking trouble-making sligs wasn't made up by me, but was official information provided by Oddworld Inhabitants. We at 'A Jar of Dead Fish Productions' in no way encourage behaviour such as Skillya's.


THE ALL IMPORTANT SUMMARY!

Oddworld Inhabitants hasn't told us much about the slig queen, Skillya, though it has been revealed that she sometimes cooks sligs that are sent to her for punishment. It's largely because of this fact that I've had to boost the rating on this chapter.
It's safe to read up until Krik arrives at Skillya's lair, so you can go and read that now. Once Krik is taken to see Skillya he's disgusted by her appearance. She lives in a big stone cavern and lots of gold and treasure is stacked around her: gifts from the Magog Cartel intended to keep her happy and laying. Skillya really likes treasure. She also likes having people fear her.
Skillya speaks Mudosian (the normal language spoken by just about everyone on Mudos) very badly so most of what she says is hard to understand. She asks Krik what he intends to do but doesn't like the sound of his aims of improving their behaviour. He tells her the Cartel will reward her more if sligs are better behaved, and when he points out that some of his test subjects will suffer nasty deaths she agrees and gives him a job. He very much wants to turn down the job, from fear and general dislike of her, but his fear of her anger and his own pride stop him and he accepts the job.


Now reply! All those who reply will be rewarded with the knowledge that their opinions are very much valued by me. So reply! And that means YOU!

Argh! I'm being forced to reply!

I liked it. T'was a bit gruesome, but you warned me and it was my own fault i read it right through :p

I can't wait to see how this story develops, so keep it up!


Lol 666 posts.

I didn't think you'd gone too far, but that might just be me :p

But yeah, some of Skillya's speech I wouldn't have been able to make anything of if you hadn't translated... And it did kinda affect the ending. But it was a good chapter nonetheless.

I think someone said this before, but ever since you started writing about Krik your writing style seems different and its hard for me to see the events in my head.
However once Krik went to Skillya's lair I was able to follow it in my head, for some reason the imagery is better when Krik is enteracting with other characters, atleast for me.

I don't think it was that gruesome, I wouldn't read this to a seven year old, but a fifth grader would have no problem.

Oh and about Skillya, why did you make her eyes red? I'm pretty sure all Sligs have beady black eyes.
I was also going to quote something about how Glukkons give Sligs red masks because they think that seeing everything in red would make them more cruel. I can't find the original info anywhere, I remember reading it... in a Dear Alf archive I think. I've been looking for 3 hours now, but no luck.

Anyways good story.

Well since I had no idea what colour her eyes wold be (what with the masks) I just guessed. Since she's the Queen it is possible that she has different coloured eyes from the working classes, but never mind. I might edit it at some point if I get more information.

Haha, that's why I'm always hesitant to write fan-fiction on something and make up what I don't know... because then sometimes you do find out the facts and they don't go with what you've written :D
I've never heard of the sligs having beady black eyes, though... But then, I don't delve that deeply into all the Oddworld stuffs.
I wouldn't trust the things Alf tells people though :p While it's all in good fun, I'm pretty sure a lot of it is complete nonsense XD

I listen to a lot of things Alf says, there are times when what he says is actually true. Alf mentions Sligs having beady black eyes, but that wasn't even the focus of the question, I think he released that info by accident. :)
Though there is a MO pic of a Slig that you can see passed his visor and he has beady black eyes.
I'm your man when it comes to Sligs, I mad search for any official say on anything about them.

I gained enough patience and free time and finally caught up with the story. The first part was rather entertaining, with the hunt for the experiments and sudden twist with Tilic taking the Vykkers' side.

The second part seems also interesting, I liked the conversation between Krik and Emlech, with the possible assassination methods.

The last chapter was more tense, it wasn't obvious how Krik would get out of the situation. You described the Slig Queen exactly as I have imagined her some days ago. Longer tentacles, no mask (what use would that have anyway?), large cavern...

This is rather inspiring, seeing that I'm starting my own fanfic right after I made this post. But I won't advertise it here, or Splat might give me a bomb-cookie.

Absolutely adore the chapters you have written. I love how you start the stories with characters you don't know too much about. Then you transition into the backstory that eventually leads into what you read about in the beginning, is pretty orginal and creative.

Now about this last chapter. Certainly was a goresome chapter, but quite tense and vivid. Reminds me a little bit of the movie Indiana Jones: The Temple of Doom. Skillya seems even more evil than I ever imagined her to be. The whole factor of loving to be cannibal seems shocking to me, since I just thought Skillya was just very angry at every Slig. I probably wouldn't have gone through reading this if I haven't been playing Abe games for years. It only makes me frigthened how deep I should go into writing about my own role playing characters.

@Venks: A person in my own grade gets dizzy from hearing about stitches being applied to a boy. I don't think 5th graders get to read about cannibalist mothers.

Remember I am generally aiming this at an older audience than W@RF, so more is acceptible. I'm glad you've all liked it so far.
Now you know what all the sligs are terrified of being sent to mother!

There'll only be one or two more chapters as Krik (depending on how long it ends up when I've written it all out) before I switch to the next section. Part three will start a little differently since the main character has already been introduced. Where I'll go after that remains to be seen.


Guess whose finally gotten their hands on a copy of Abe's Oddysee?

If I don't update on Saturday you'll know what I'm doing.

Hey Splat, is Sliggish the official language of Sligs or is that something you made up for your story?

Sliggish is something people describe the croaks and ribbets Sligs speak in the games they are seen in. We know that their speech is nothing that the creatures speak and it even is regonized on VoiceLocks. It is something people have made up in W@RF, as Gappiqu has been said to have a Mudosian to Sliggish dictionary in v.5.

Only a few more chapters with Krik? Now I get see Dionysia before Rupture Farms.

Simply curious, are you going to add the bit of what Krik, Stivik, and Dionysia goes through in Rupture Farms? I know there is a huge portion with Stivik, involving Nick, Anni, and the rest of the gang, but would it be reasonable to add that portion into the story? I would love to see how you would portray Gappiqu's actions in Dionysia's eyes.

Sorry I haven't replied, the net has been on the fritz. That last chapter was powerful, I think. For me, the translations served to make the encounter more surreal. And I agree with dripik (Dripik?), it's very much how I envisioned the slig queen.
Good to hear you got Abe's Oddysee. Enjoy!

New chapter alert! Three days late, thanks to exams, writers block and of course Abe's Oddysee, but here it is at last!
First, however, responding to my fans!:D

I got the OWI Art Book the same time I got AO, and I noticed there's a concept picture of a Big Bro without a mask, and the eyes appear to be rather sunken and stuff. Whether its an affect of the steroids or it's natural I don't know, but it will be taken into account and I might edit chapter 10 to include it.
As for sliggish, like Slaveless said, it's a fan concept. Dionysia won't be appearing in this section but will turn up later on, and yes, I will be covering time spent at Rupture Farms. When I get to that point I'll put this story on hold until the RPG progresses if I need to, though there's a fair amount that needs to happen first.

This chapter is safe for all, though it does include some technobabble, like most of Krik's chapters. Never mind, I shall continue.



Krik began work at once. He was provided a room to live and sleep in, and another room to do up as a lab using the things brought over from his small rented place. He did it up as best he could and got to work.

Skillya was at first very interested in Krik’s project. A few days in when he had gotten all his equipment set up and had written out test plans and time sheets for the job, he asked for his first few sligs to run tests on and the next thing he knew he was (much to his dismay) being called into her ‘lair’. She demanded to know every detail of what he was going to do to these sligs and was somewhat disappointed when he managed to explain that he just needed to run a few minor psychological tests and take blood samples. She sent him out and after a while provided a few of her attendants for him to experiment with.

The main problem with trying to do research on the sligs Skillya provided was that they were all so nervous working around her that they were constantly in a state of extreme stress. Krik needed blood samples from sligs who were at least fairly relaxed to compare with the blood samples of stressed sligs.

It took him a few days to summon up the courage to confront Skillya about the dilemma. When he told her that he would need to leave her facility to interview sligs from outside, her eyes bulged with anger and he thought she was going to have him executed right then and there. “Thiss iss hah ur rehay hy chenerosity? Ur try tu escape ass soon ass my ack iss turnt? Ur think I’rn Stuthid?”

“No-no! That’s not what I meant!” Krik took a few gulping breaths and tried to continue, “All the sligs here are so sc- stressed! I n-need relaxed sligs to test on, as well as stressed ones!”

Her anger calmed down, but he could tell she was still seething. She didn’t trust him any more than he trusted her. “I have vykkers hurking thur me outtsside. Ur tell him hot ur need. He does tests hur ur, hyes?”

“Yes! Yes. You, I mean, if you tell me how to contact him, I’ll let him know what I need. Is there a fone?”

Skillya eyed him predatorily. “Na sligs show ur thone. Ur rink na vykker, no hon else.”

She sent him back to his lab and half an hour later a pair of sligs came and showed him to a fone, hidden behind a door opened via a voicelock. They gave him a number to ring and guarded him while he dialled and spoke.

The vykker that came onto the screen was a few years younger than Krik, and a little skinny, even for a vykker. “This is Dr Edward Cekyll speaking.”

“Um,” Krik began awkwardly, “I’m Dr Krik. I recently began working for Queen Skillya-” He was cut off by Cekyll, who began laughing loudly. Krik looked annoyed, “She informed me that you were also working for her and would help me with the project I’m working on.”

He had stopped laughing, but was grinning slyly. “Of course, of course. Once you start a job fro Skillya you never escape her claws.” Krik didn’t like the sound of that. He glanced over his shoulder at the two sligs but their faces were blank. Cekyll went on, “And what is it you need of me?”

“I hope you know something of biochemistry?” He didn’t like the young vykker much. He didn’t seem very intelligent and he clearly had no respect.

“Yes, yes. I was trained in all that, hormones, microbiology…”

Krik nodded stiffly. “Well I’m looking for information on the stress response in sligs. It’s rather hard to do any proper research here since all the sligs are nervous wrecks.”

“It’s not just the sligs,” Cekyll muttered. Krik ignored him.

“I’d appreciate it if you could run blood tests on about 75 to 100 sligs. Make sure the sligs are as close to being fully relaxed as you can get them before you take the samples. Then redo about half of them in more stressful situations. Make the appropriate notes and send me the results.”

“You don’t ask for much,” Cekyll told him sarcastically, but Krik could tell by the expression on his face that he liked the idea of stressing the sligs. Like most vykkers he would probably come up with a few creative methods of doing so.

Krik ended the conversation and was escorted back to his lab. For the next few weeks he went through most of the sligs in the facility, monitoring stress levels, taking blood tests and studying hormones. Skillya seemed to have lost interest in his work, leaving him to get on with it undisturbed. Just as his tests were nearing completion. Cekyll arrived at the facility in person with the results of his own research. Krik took them and thanked him and Cekyll told him just what he didn’t want to hear.

“I’ll be staying around to help you with your research. Queen Skillya thought giving you an assistant would speed you up, and I volunteered for the job. DNAse has saved me from a few tight corners and as soon as I realised you were that Krik I decided I should return the favour and show you how to survive with her highness breathing down your neck all the time.”

Krik was not best pleased with this turn of events, though when he looked at the information Cekyll had gathered he was forced to admit that he was clearly very good at his job. The next few months were spent comparing data, studying patterns and drawing conclusions. Krik never became fond of the younger vykker, but he would grudgingly admit he was glad of his presence, not just for his help on the work but also because he was the only person Krik could talk to who wasn’t either near to nervous collapse or likely to eat him if he said the wrong thing.

After months of work they were finally ready to experiment on a live subject. Krik informed the younger vykker that he intended to ask Skillya for a number of slig eggs to test on. Cekyll disagreed and insisted they test on adult sligs, at least for the first few months. Krik agreed, though somewhat reluctantly, and they worked on putting together an injectable formula that should affect the behaviour of the subject for a few weeks. There was no doubt that it would affect the subject’s behaviour, though how it would affect it was less certain.

Cekyll elected to go and tell Skillya the good news and ask for a test subject and came back satisfied. A few days later they were given a rebellious slig who did not seem particularly thankful towards the vykkers, even when they reminded him that they had saved him from a trip to Skillya’s kitchen.

They injected him with the formula and he spent the next few weeks rolling and thrashing in pain, much to Skillya’s delight, while the vykkers observed, ran a few tests when he stayed still long enough, and made scientific observations of his behaviour and the possible causes. The affects did indeed wear off after two and a half weeks and in the end it turned out the vykkers didn’t save him from Skillya after all.

The two scientists went back to the drawing board, clocked up some more sums and came up with a new formula which they tested on the next slig Skillya provided for them. They observed the affects with interest. “He doesn’t seem to be in quite as much pain as the last one,” Krik informed his partner.

Cekyll nodded. “It’s certainly and improvement. Not sure about all the bleeding though.”

If nothing else, Skillya seemed happier than ever, and didn’t seem to mind the fact that the slig died before it reached her oven.

So it went on for a few months more. As the unfortunate side effects began to diminish and the sligs tended to live longer, Skillya seemed to grow less pleased and Cekyll suggested that they use some of the older formulas for every third slig, just to keep her happy. Krik agreed that it might not be a bad idea.

He was still concerned by the fact that the sligs needed regular injections to make the effects last. Changing sligs’ behaviour had little purpose if it only lasted for three weeks. Cekyll suggested they simply make the product incredibly addictive, and so stop the sligs from not taking it. Krik, however, was not happy with this solution: for him it was permanence or nothing, and to make it permanent, the formula had to be administered during very early development, before the sligs hatched from their eggs. He made the suggestion, but Cekyll stated bluntly that he was not going to ask Skillya for eggs to work on, and as he was still the only one of the pair who willingly went to Skillya to ask for test subjects, that seemed to settle the matter.

For Krik, however, it didn’t. One day he went to Skillya himself. She was no less frightening than she had seemed before, but that wasn’t going to stop him. She was surprised to see him instead of Cekyll, but he told her Cekyll was feeling unwell and, not wanting her to become ill, he was here to make the request instead. Sweet-talk them; make them think you care. He started off easily, asking for another slig for them to experiment on. She asked what they were likely to do with him and how their experiments were progressing. He told her they were going to be testing something new and wasn’t sure if it would go well. Tell them what they want to here; get them on your side. Finally, just as he was about to leave he asked her if they could have a few eggs to test on to try and make the effects more permanent.

She screamed at him in sliggish. However frightening he had found her before was nothing compared to the sheer might of her wrath in those few seconds. He stumbled backwards and before he really knew it he was outside of the chamber, his back pressed to the door, gasping for breath.

Cekyll rolled his eyes at him when he told him what had happened. “You never listen to anything you don’t want to hear, do you Krik?” He informed him.

“I don’t understand!”

Cekyll raised his hands in a desperate gesture, “Call it what you want, some perverse sense of justice or something; Skillya would never hurt a slig before he’s done anything wrong. Once they’ve broken the law, upset her or whatever then fine; she’ll gut them, cook them, let us torture them, but only if they’ve shown that they deserve it. And she won’t let anyone touch her eggs, unless Queen Margaret authorises it. And she certainly wouldn’t let you.”

Krik looked defensive, “Why not me?”

“Because you walk around with your nose in the air like you’re better than the rest of us! She wants the people around her to grovel, to make her feel like she’s got power over all of us. You walk around like you can control her.”

Krik swore at him and stormed away.

A few days later he was forced to put aside his anger, however, because they had work to do and Skillya was waiting. Skillya didn’t like to be kept waiting.

Work went on, and Krik realised for the first time that he’d been working for Skillya for over two years, and at last they were approaching the climax of all their work. Krik was hoping to for the opportunity to test the product on a slig who wasn’t already a known criminal, but things were looking good, when they received a message from Skillya stating that she was cutting her funding for their project. Krik woke up one morning to be informed of the news by Cekyll.

“That’s it then,” He told Krik, “It was fun, but that’s it.”

“You’re just going to stop?” Krik demanded, “After all that work we’ve put it?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you thought she was going to let us finish? She let it carry on as soon as it provided an interesting way of killing prisoners, but she never actually wanted to you to improve the behaviour of her children! If they were all suddenly obedient she wouldn’t have any to punish would she? And she wouldn’t like that.” Krik was staring at him, dumbfounded. Cekyll gave him a pitying expression, “Look, we got paid, we had fun and that’s it. Don’t push your luck. We’ll probably be working here for a few more weeks to clear this up, and then if you’re lucky she’ll let you out into the world until she needs you again.”

The day was spent half-heartedly packing up equipment, filing papers and tidying away two years of work which had ended in the same way as his eleven years of the Mock-Queen project.

Krik made up his mind. After midnight he left his room and crept down to the hatchery. The sligs outside were sleeping and he moved past them as silently as he could.

He returned to his room a short while later with three rounded, green slig eggs. He unpacked some of his equipment from their boxes and, in his room in the near darkness, got to work.

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Every time you don't reply to this story, Krik kills a sliglet.

:DAwesomes.....Did he nick her eggs? Will she find out if he did? Du dum dummmm...I find the hypocrisy over how she still has feelings for her eggs but not her grown up kids confusing.

Find the answers to these questions and more, in the next exciting episode of The Despicable :D

Nice chapter, but you know the annoying thing about that, right? I have to wait until you write the next one to find out what happens next! XD

Oh, please don't tell me you've been reading that story Gretin. *Dies of embarrassment*

Um... what? :p What story? Or was that a joke?

Lol. How do you count how often someone doesn't read the story?

With his super-duper-people-not-reading-story-super-charged-analyser-thing-go! Or something like that.

Or maybe he was making idle threats...? Tsk tsk. Ok, I'm done :D I should probably shut up until the next chapter is posted to avoid becoming spammy-er.

Well actually he's going to kill one for every member of the forums who doesn't post here. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHHAHA!!!!!


(It wasn't a joke Gretin, but obviously I'm no going to tell you what story cus I don't want it to ever be looked upon by mortal eyes again)

Woo, it's my latest update of this story so far: over two weeks late! Go me!

Assuming you haven't all forgotten who I am by now, prepare for a new chapter. This is the last in Krik's first appearance in the story; next week'll be starting on a new character (though one who has already been introduced - can you see the mystery leeking from the screen?), assuming of course I get a new chapter written in time.
Largely due to being very rushed and a writers block the size of a planet, this chapter isn't my favourite, particularly the second half on it which was written at high speed earlier today. There might be (read: almost certainly will be) some mistakes in this so feel free to point them out if you spot them. I can't edit it if I don't know it's there! Also my ability to form sensible paragraphs seemed to vanish while I was writing this.

Anyway, I'll get on with it.
Get's a bit Frankenstein-esque in this chapter. It does explain why Krik's almost forgotten by the time of W@RF.
Pacon is the Oddworld equivilent of bacon, taken from paramites, as of T-nex saying so.


Two nights later Krik crept out again and this time returned to his room with 14 eggs. By day he worked for Skillya and by night he worked for himself, silently laughing at how easy it was. All that intimidation was just a façade, hiding how easy it was to act against her wishes.

He knew Cekyll was suspicious of him; after all, he’d gone from miserable to nearly gleeful in the space of three nights. He packed away the last two years’ work without complaint while his thoughts drifted to the real work, the work on those eggs. Once he found a formula that he could inject into them without them dying he would take it to someone sane – the Vykker’s Council, or maybe Queen Margaret herself – and show them how he could improve slig workers. And what next? Mudokon labourers all obedient and hard working – proving all along how Krik had been right about mudokon slavery?

The work on the slig eggs progressed quickly as most of the work had already been done over the last two years and even as Krik worked his mind began to drift onto other things. His thoughts fell back to his days of training and he remembered when he had once expressed a wish to do work on the species Queens to his tutor, Zimbago. The suggestion had met with disaster but now… here was the opportunity! Not psychology of course, he’d given that up years ago, but maybe he could try and apply his work on the Mock Queen project to Skillya!

Sligs were different to mudokons so he would need blood samples from Skillya. He lay in bed for a night thinking over excuses for taking blood samples from the slig Queen and eventually decided to talk it over with Cekyll.

The following day as Cekyll worked in the laboratory and Krik wasted time, he wandered over to the younger vykker and announced, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh dear.”

“Please! I’m being serious.”

“Oh dear, oh dear.”

Krik rolled his eyes, “So what are you working on so frantically over here?”

Cekyll answered delicately, “That is none of your business. I suggest you tell me your idea now so as not to waste any more of my time.”

Krik paused, “I was thinking of asking Skillya if I could take a blood sample from her.”

“Oh that’s a great idea.” Cekyll replied without looking up.

Krik was so surprised that words failed him.

“Of course,” The younger Vykker added slowly, “You may want to start drinking mayonnaise and bathing in pacon-fat first, just to save her some time.”

Krik growled at him angrily and stalked away.

“Well what were you expecting?” Cekyll demanded as he left the lab.

Breaking into Skillya’s chamber at night proved to be significantly harder than breaking into the hatchery, but Krik found a way. The main entrance to her lair was of course heavily guarded. However, there was a passage that ran from her chamber that led to her kitchen where she had her slaves prepare her culinary creations. From the kitchen was a doorway which led to a storeroom, which was in turn connected to the other large storerooms in the facility. The entrance to one of these rooms was unguarded most of the time since it was nearly empty, and Krik managed to slip in there and make his way through her kitchen, which was blessedly kept clean so there was nothing unpleasant to see when he passed through, and into her chamber.

As silently as he could he approached her massive sleeping bulk. He walked up on her right side and eased a syringe into her side, just beyond her right shoulder. For a second he held his breath, Silence pressed around his ears and he relaxed ever so slightly and pulled out the handle, drawing out her blood. The large syringe he was using was just over half full when her arm moved back. As quickly as he could he drew out the syringe and stumbled back as she scratched the bleeding spot in her sleep.

Smiling coolly, he backed away from her and stumbled into a heap of gold which fell over with a crunch, sending lumps of gold and jewels tinkling across the floor with a noise that seemed as load as an explosion to Krik. He froze in terror.

Skillya remained asleep. Eventually Krik regained control of his limbs and hurried out of the hall and back to his chamber as quickly as he dared.

The following day he was more nervous than a cornered paramite. Every time a slig walked past the lab he stiffened and he jerked whenever Cekyll spoke to him. Eventually his fellow vykker asked him if he was feeling alright.

“Fine, fine,” He replied unconvincingly, “Just didn’t sleep well last night, set me on edge a bit,” And he smiled more meekly than he had meant to.

The day passed without word from Skillya, and Krik had a sleepless night expecting any minute for a gang of sligs to enter his room and arrest him.

A week went by and the only trouble Krik heard of was Cekyll complaining that he was being held here longer than he would have hoped. “You make it sound like we’re prisoners,” Krik said with a laugh. Cekyll’s reply was a dark look.

Cekyll’s comment put Krik in a foul mood and he characteristically decided to react with defiance. That night he crept into Skillya’s chamber for a second time and took a sample from her side, a few feet closer to the end of her ribcage where blood would be harder to draw but she was less sensitive. This time she didn’t react and, with renewed confidence, Krik went back the following day and took his third sample. Upon returning to his room he immediately dug up his old project and began working on a formula that should make her produce more eggs in each nest.

Since he was only acting on a small section of the research he had done in the past, and since it was a section he had completed previously, he progressed quickly.

Two days after he took his third sample a pair of sligs came into the lab during the evening. Krik froze, and felt an odd mix of relief and dread when they asked for Cekyll.

The younger vykker left and, since it was getting late, Krik packed up his work and hurried off to his room to continue on his work on the fertility drug before sleep.

He woke up the following morning and left his room to find Cekyll waiting for him, looking livid. When he spoke it sounded as if he was straining to keep his voice calm. “Skillya thinks some creature has been biting her.” Krik looked at him indifferently and pushed past. He felt cold metal pressed against the back of his neck and froze. “I know a syringe mark when I see one,” Cekyll grunted, breathing heavily. “I’m no fool. What have you done to her?”

“What are you talking about now?” Krik hissed, sounding irritated and nervous.

“Three times she’s been stabbed by a syringe. I’m not letting you get me killed.”

“I don’t have the faintest idea-” Krik froze as the blade pressed into his neck, cutting his skin.

“Don’t take me for an idiot. I told her I thought they were fleech bites and suggested she put some poison around, but if it happens again I won’t cover for you. You can get yourself killed if you want but you’re not taking me with you.”

Cekyll walked away, dropping the scalpel he’d been threatening Krik with. Krik rubbed his neck and watched him leave, anger surging through him. He’d show that young idiot!

He returned to his room immediately and began frantic work on the drug. He spent the whole day and most of the night on it and then slept most of the following day, emerging from his room in the late afternoon and heading for the lab, where he continued to develop the formula, indifferent as to whether or not Cekyll saw what he was doing.

Again he spent the whole night at work in his room and then most of the following day in the lab. Cekyll expressed no interest in what he was doing. Too drowsy to keep working, he went to bed mid afternoon.

For the next three weeks he continued to work in this way, sleeping as little as he could manage and at no particular time. It obviously annoyed Cekyll but Krik pushed that thought to the back of his mind, as well as the thought that working like this might gain Skillya’s suspicion.

But the work paid off and Krik arrived at a formula that he felt confident would increase Skillya’s fertility without harming her to any significant level. The following night he crept out of his room and through the storerooms and kitchens into her chamber. He halted in the doorway, looking across the dark cavern to her bulk. She was lying still and breathing deeply, definitely asleep. Once more, Krik crept carefully to her side and drew out the syringe loaded with the drug. He pressed it gently into her side.

Her body tensed suddenly. Krik’s head shot up and he found himself looking straight into her eyes. She was staring at him, apparently too shocked to react, and then suddenly she began screaming with rage, roaring in sliggish. Krik stumbled back and fell over onto a pile of treasure. She hauled her body round and made to lunge at him but he scrambled to his feet and ran for all he was worth, down the passage into her kitchen. The kitchen door burst open, the sligs outside having heard their mother’s screaming, and quickly aimed their weapons at Krik. He tried to run past them.

Krik found himself sprawled on the floor, unsure of when or why he’d fallen over. Before he could get up six or seven sligs were standing around him, their guns all pointed at his head.


Krik was locked inside one of the cells reserved for disobedient sligs and future dinner courses. For four days he was kept there, seeing no one but the slig guards who occasionally came over to taunt him. Krik had thought he would never be happy to see Cekyll but when he appeared outside the cell Krik felt as if he could have run over and kissed him if there hadn’t been a big metal door preventing it. Cekyll observed him with a look of disgust.

“All those times I warned you and you still end up in here.”

“What is she planning to do with me?” Krik asked with a note of desperation in his voice.

“Last I heard, she was planning to break your arms off first, since there isn’t much meat on them, and then roast you alive. And before you ask, I’m not joking.”

Krik looked at him wide-eyed, “You have to get me out of here!”

“Ha! What do you expect me to do, go up to her and tell her you didn’t mean it? Ask her politely to let you go? I’ll be in the oven next to you!”

“Tell someone!” Krik begged, “The Magog Cartel; the Vykker’s Council!”

“The Magog Cartel won’t care about you after what you did, and the Council doesn’t have the power to overrule Skillya. Anyway, how would I tell them? I can’t use the fone without her permission.” He paused, “I gave you enough warning. It’s your fault you’re in there and I won’t gain anything from helping you again.”

“I’ll make it worth your while!” Krik gasped. Cekyll looked at him critically. “I took blood samples from Skillya.”

“Oh yes? And where are they? They searched your rooms. I think if they’d found blood I’d have heard.”

“I didn’t leave it out in the open! It’s hidden, amongst my other things. It’d fetch a fortune if you know who to sell it too.” Cekyll looked uncertain. “I wouldn’t inject her with anything without testing it first! I took three samples, yes? Two I used up to test the fertility formula. I can tell you where to find the other if you promise to get me out!”

Krik was lying of course. He’d used the first, incomplete sample, and nothing more. That left him with two samples left, but his pride and greed stopped him from promising all he had.

Cekyll was silent for over a minute, thinking. Eventually he asked. “Alright, you tell me where it’s hidden and I’ll do what I can.”

Krik never found out how he did it, but just two days later a dozen vykkers turned up and demanded Krik’s release. Skillya, unsurprisingly, refused, until they reminded her that they sent any criminal sligs to her, and if they expected that to continue then she should accept that any criminal vykkers should be returned to them. Very reluctantly, Skillya agreed.

Krik was released from his cell and led under guard into a train carriage, alongside his equipment. As soon as he was alone with his luggage he made sure the second syringe of Skillya’s blood was secure, and destroyed the copy of his mock-queen research that he had with him; since he had been ordered by Queen Margaret to destroy that years ago he wasn’t taking any risks.

When Krik got off the train he was surprised to find himself still kept under guard. He was led to one of the councillors whom he asked quietly, “Is it necessary to keep this charade going so long? Surely Skillya won’t know if you release me now.”

The vykker looked surprised. “You think this whole thing is a mock-up?” He led Krik into a large room filled mostly with seats, taken up by about fifty vykkers. Sligs guarded the doors. “You broke the law and now you stand trial.”

The only comfort Krik had was that whatever the vykkers did to him, it was likely to be considerably less unpleasant than what Skillya had had in mind.

He was found guilty of assault on the Slig Queen. The punishment came in two parts: firstly, to Krik’s horror, he was forbidden from being credited for any work he did, which meant a changing to the branding of DNAse stating it was made by Homes’ Lab, instead of by Krik, his books and essays on mudokon labour would also be changed in the same way, and any product he made in the future would not be named as his.

Secondly, Krik was prevented from buying any medical or scientific equipment, or employing interns, sligs or mudokons. The result was that Krik could never own his own lab, and the only time he would be able to work was if he was working for someone else.


Skillya was enraged by how the Vykker’s Council had overruled her so easily and demanded to the Magog Cartel dissolve the organisation. The Cartel initially refused, but when Skillya didn’t produce any eggs for nearly six months, regardless of how much treasure she was offered, Queen Margaret broke down and agreed. The Vykker’s Council was wiped out.

A few days later Dr Emlech put his own plan into action. He arranged a meeting between the top scientists, the heads of the different fields; doctors, psychologists, physicists, professors, called together to discuss and share ideas.

Eight vykkers attended the first meeting. They all found it so useful that when they met again two months later there were nearly forty of them. Over the next few years the meetings grew and grew and eventually it was decided that for them to continue in any reasonable level of order, a leader would have to be chosen.

The eight vykkers who attended the first meeting were all put up for election for the position, though they were all confident that Emlech would win. Emlech, however, had no desire to be in charge of their meetings, firstly because it would draw attention to him, which was something he had been trying to avoid all his life, and secondly if the whole thing came crashing down he didn’t want to be the one on top, as they would have furthest to fall.

The problem was that if it looked like he was avoiding the position then people would become suspicious. However, when Emlech failed to attend several meetings leading up to the election the other potential leaders began to feel more confident.

In the end, Emlech came third in the election. The new leader’s first action was to give the meetings the official name, ‘The Vykker’s Conglomerate’. Fifteen years later it had more power, more influence and more money than the Vykker’s Council had ever possessed. Then, thanks to a pair of terrorists, it all went up in smoke.

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Reply for the story, guv'nor?

EDIT: I just noticed that the spelling of 'Cekyll' changed to 'Ceckyl' somewhere along the way. I've tried to fix it.

:)You made typo, I think it should be bites. :fuzconf:Your character Cekyll has a name spelling similar to one of my vykker characters...:)Oh well.

And also, did Krik really manage to slig in there? XD Sorry, but did you did say to point out the spelling mistakes ;)

Anyway, interesting chapter even with the typos, so I'm guessing Dionysia's not far from being introduced now?

As I'm a Slig lover I definitely like your portrayal of Skillya. I can't wait till I get far enough in my fanfic to show how I perceive her.

The way you describe Skillya always reminds me of a dragon in its lair full of treasure. Same temperament, too.

Just caught up with the story, it's quite entertaining. The last chapter explained quite a lot of why Krik is not a high-ranking Vykker.

The Splat is back!
I know it's been a looooooooooooooong time coming. Moving to and settling in at university have eaten up a lot of my time, plus a writer's block the size of Russia for the meeting in the middle of this chapter have slowed me down, but here it is at last!


_______________________________________________________________
Sometimes infertile male-sized mudokon females are hatched. These are best suited to serving as attendants for the Mudokons Queen of the time. However, due to a genetic anomaly some fail to develop suitably for caring for mudokon young. These undeveloped 'worker class' females are sometimes sold as labour, but they develop into adulthood more slowly than males and are less suited for hard work, and are therefore sold cheaply.



Two years before the destruction of Rupture Farms.

Dr Emlech stroked a hand down the warm glass of the tank. Inside, floating in the slightly yellow-tinged liquid was a living creature, a tiny mudokon embryo no longer than one of his fingers. A miniscule life, struggling for survival. It always amazed Emlech how something so tiny could contain so much potential, if only given the chance. If only he gave it the chance. He was fond that idea and toyed with it in his mind for a minute or two.

Strange how the creature seemed to stir as he touched the glass. At that age it would have no senses; it could not see or hear or feel. Was it merely in his head or was it real; did the embryo sense him in some way, as another life? As her creator?

Emlech let his hand slip off of the glass and moved a few feet to the second tank. There were four in total, each containing one tiny female mudokon embryo. In a few weeks they would be taken out of their tanks and placed in an artificial eggshell. Until then they needed to be under constant surveillance to make sure they were developing successfully. The tank contained all the nutrients and chemicals they required.

And he owed all this to his old friend Dr Krik, a friend he hadn’t spoken to in over a decade. He hadn’t heard much of Krik since his trial before the old Vykker’s Council. He was aware that the younger vykker was working for some small company, probably barely making enough moolah to keep living.

For the last ten years he’d happily forgotten about Krik, but since the mock-queen work had been drawing to a conclusion, his old friend and had been dwelling on his thoughts more.

He’d paid 17 million moolah for this research; he had earned it and shouldn’t be feeling guilty if the person he bought it off got himself in a world of trouble!

Squashing his feelings, he forced his attention on the embryo in this tank. It was smaller than the others, though that didn’t necessarily mean it would be any weaker. While the four embryos had begun as clones, each had been given a slight modification to its DNA to change the composition of its appearance and personality; a race could only thrive by individuality and if one of these creatures grew disabled or mentally deficient, he didn’t want it to affect them all. Since each of them was slightly different, he was just about safe from that little problem.

He was not, however, safe from other problems, like the fact that these four tanks were using up a great deal of electricity to keep running. This laboratory was, for obvious reasons, kept secret from the Magog Cartel. That meant all the power to this lab was coming through one of his legitimate laboratories first; if he simply tapped into the main electrical system wherever he felt like it, it was bound to attract attention. The problem Emlech faced was that this facility was currently using massive amounts of electricity, more than he could justify using for the lab that this place was dependant upon, and if anyone noticed just how much power he was using, they would certainly become suspicious. These tanks were the source of the problem, and to rectify it, he would have to switch one of them off.

This wouldn’t be good for its occupant.

Size didn’t definitely mean weakness, but it often did, and in this situation it was all Emlech had to go on. “This one,” He said, and rapped his knuckles against the glass. He heard the muffled response from the intern at the control terminal behind him and the liquid in the tank began to drain out of the bottom, taking the unborn mudokon with it. It disappeared into the bottom of the tank to be sprayed with DNAse before being flushed out into the sewers. Emlech strode out of the room without a second glance.


It was several weeks later, and the mudokon embryos had already been transferred to their artificial eggs, when Emlech met a pair of successful-looking vykkers in his office in one of his legal facilities. They had requested the meeting, ensuring him it would be of great financial benefit, though Emlech, who was not interested in money, had only accepted them grudgingly.

He was slightly more impressed when he actually met with them; they were dressed richly, but in an unobtrusive way. It suggested that, like Emlech, they did not want to be noticed. He invited them into his office and slid into his chair behind the desk. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He asked them, with the faintest hint of cautious sarcasm in his voice.

The two vykkers were not deterred by his unwelcoming air. The taller of the two answered, “We would like to know if you are interested in joining us on a very exciting project.”

Emlech looked sceptical but didn’t speak.

The vykker continued with slightly less confidence. “We have been employed by a glukkon for a project for which we believe someone of your considerable skill could be useful.”

That was the problem with Emlech’s plan; he hid his intelligence so as to avoid the spotlight, but every so often some young idiot would get it into their head that they could take advantage of him. He knew immediately that he would not help, though he was interested to know what the project was, if only to see how good they thought he was. He was not vain, for vanity went hand in hand with idiocy, but still, he was curious. “Go on,” He replied smoothly.

His guests looked uncomfortable, evidently unwilling to explain their project to him before he agreed to join. “The project we’re working on requires extensive knowledge of genetics,” One said slowly. “And we are also aware of your longstanding interest in mudokons, and we believe that too may be of use in our work.”

Emlech smiled an oily smile, “There are a million vykkers with knowledge of mudokon genetics. Why do you want me?”

“Well, your interest in mudokons far outdates that of the average vykker, and you’ve certainly proven yourself to be near the top of your field.”

Ah, they were playing the flattery card. He arranged his expression into something polite but faintly cold.

The other vykker added, “It is not just mudokon genetics that the project entails. A general knowledge of the field is al important and we are certain you have the required knowledge.”

Emlech moved his chair back a few inches, preparing to rise to his feet and dismiss the pair from his office. His thoughts were already drifting to the three mudokon eggs, potential mudokon Queens, awaiting him in his secret laboratory. He was quite happy to be getting on with his own genetics project thank you very much. But then a thought struck him.

“Well, I must apologise and say I’m not interested in your generous offer,” He began.

One of the vykkers said quickly, “But wait! We must tell you that the pay for this project is more than-”

“Nor am I interested in that generous offer,” Emlech said, interrupting, “But I do happen to know of a very intelligent vykker who might be interested in the job.”

The vykkers looked somewhat affronted. “I don’t think we would be interested,” One said with little pretence of politeness. They began to rise to their feet as Emlech watched with an amused expression on his face.

“I doubt you will have heard of him. His name is Doctor Krik, and his knowledge of genetics, for both of the working species, is very impressive.” ‘The working species’ meant ‘sligs and mudokons’. The two vykkers hesitated for the tiniest moment and Emlech went on, “He was rather famous for it before the Vykker’s Council disbanded, but he did significant work on mudokons, and worked for Queen Skillya for two years.” They wouldn’t know him as the inventor of DNAse and Emlech doubted they would believe him if he said he was, but he could push the point, kill two birds with one stone. Get these pair to leave him alone, and put his guilt about Krik to rest. “He worked for several years on a project to produce artificially hatched mudokon Queens to produce eggs before the Cartel caught their queen and shut his work down, and then later on did a great deal of work on behaviour modification drugs for sligs. I’m sure he would be a great asset to your work. Odd knows he’s a better geneticist than I’ll ever be.” That was true enough. It had taken Emlech’s team years to finish Krik’s work on the Mock Queen project. Several times he had been tempted to ask Krik for help, but he hadn’t wanted to raise suspicions as to what he was working on.

“If he’s so brilliant, why haven’t we heard of him?” One of his guests asked, a little suspiciously.

“He made an enemy of Skillya several years ago and was punished by the old Council. He was banned from being named for any project he worked on and so most people have forgotten all about him now.” He let that sink in. “Still, it was only a suggestion, but if you want a geneticist you won’t do much better. Now I’m afraid I have a great deal of work to be getting on with, so I must ask you to leave.”


Dr Emlech, promoter of Mudokon Labour, forgotten founder of the Vykker’s Conglomerate, and unknown creator of any number of Vykker products now bent over a trembling eggshell that contained nearly 30 years of research and development. One single, dark crack suddenly appeared about two thirds up the side, running diagonally. For a moment the egg stopped moving, but then the trembling began again, more vigorously than before, and the crack began to spread like a sickness down the side of the eggshell. He watched, not helping, letting it struggle. It rocked, it shook, more cracks former and grew, creating a complex network, and then it split. The egg fell open revealing a tiny, delicate, purple mudokon infant, sticky with fluids from the egg. He smiled at it, as a slig hunter may smile at live bait, and then slowly reached down and gently lifted it up. There was a faint cheer from the vykkers assembled behind him. “That’s the second,” He announced.

One of the team of vykkers came forward and gently lifted the infant from his hands. “Clean it up and put it in the incubator with the other,” Emlech ordered. “Is the third showing any signs of life yet?”

“Not yet sir,” One of his team answered. That was troubling.

“Keep your eyes on it. If there’s nothing by this time tomorrow let me know and we’ll take it out ourselves, with forceps if necessary.” There was a murmur of laughter from around the room.

The vykker who had taken the sticky newborn now held it aloft, “Do you have a name this one, sir?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” He answered, “Something beginning with ‘A’. Anni.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

A star is born! That ending will probably mean more to people from W@RF, but fo everyone else, rest assured that Anni will be playing a rather significant role in upcoming events.

Entertaining as always. Good job there, I enjoyed reading it. And the lenght of the chapter even fitted into my already-strained timetable.

Just out of curiousity, why 'A'?

Ah ha! I knew there was some sort of connection between Anni and Dionysia! (Not exactly, but still...) I guess this gives you all the more reason to make a few chapters about Rupture Farms.

It is great to see this place up and running again. I can't wait to see more.

I think it is rather interesting to see that Molt's accident and Dionysia's and Anni's birth all happened at around the same year. But that is just what I think...

I'm still interested how this all ties in with each other. I mean, we haven't seen Stivik for a while, and I thought this would be mainly about him.

Stivik is coming, and before the chapters about Rupture Farms, but there's a little way to go before that. Remember Stivik and Dionysia have a 'history'. This is mainly telling the story of my various characters before and after W@RF, and it will reveal what happens after the characters leave W@RF when that eventually happens.
I'm not sure when to start the W@RF section, whether to begin when Anni joined, or when Stivik joined.

As fr Dripik's question, I needed a reason for Emlech to pick the name 'Anni' but I didn't think he was likely to have it planned out. He had picked out the name for the first mudokon hatched, but that was a special occasion! I just thought he would pick the name on a whim, so he chose a random letter and picked the first name that came to his head.

:p
If only T-nex was around to see this *sniff*

EDIT: I just noticed it's passed midnight, making this the 4th of October! HAPPY FIFTH BIRTHDAY W@RF!!!!

Ooh, nice chapter. And nice way adding another tie into Work at Rupture Farms XD You've also given me a handy explanation for my female mudokon character:
Sometimes infertile male-sized mudokon females are hatched. These are best suited to serving as attendants for the Mudokons Queen of the time. However, due to a genetic anomaly some fail to develop suitably for caring for mudokon young. These undeveloped 'worker class' females are sometimes sold as labour, but they develop into adulthood more slowly than males and are less suited for hard work, and are therefore sold cheaply.

XD

And here it is at last! Time to introduce the next characters in our merry band.



Nova and Anni! Called by some the greatest creation of Dr Emlech. Called by most a pain in the rear end.

There hardly seemed to be a time when the two of them were not causing mayhem, annoying the sligs and the interns, or sneaking into the labs and storerooms when no one was looking, sticking around when they were not wanted, hiding when they were called for, laughing, joking and generally acting their ages.

Dr Emlech had made it abundantly clear that they were not to be beaten for he did not want to risk them being injured. The third mock queen he had hatched had not survived three days out of its egg. It had been weak and frail. This had been worry enough for Emlech, for if one of them did not survive, what hope was there for the other two?

However, his fears were not realised for they both survived infancy without a problem, and he performed x-rays and a number of tests which confirmed that their immune systems, vital organs and reproductive organs were all developing healthily. However, he did not want to risk his two remaining prototypes getting damaged.

While this did not mean they were not to be punished, and in fact it did not stop a few sligs taking a whack at them when no one else was around, the two mudokon girls still developed a significant level of lawlessness. When they were young they were given very loose boundaries, and now they never took rules or authority seriously. They acted as though everything was there to be played with.

Emlech had decided to keep the two of them in the lower lab where there were around 20 vykkers, a handful of interns and sligs and no other mudokons. They had a fairly comfortable room where they were told to stay when the vykkers wanted them out of the way, but they quickly became bored and found ways of escaping. The vykkers could never work out how they managed it.

Nova, 32 hours older, was the leader of the pair. She was bolder than Anni, and more trouble. Anni was naïve, and didn’t seem to know what lines should not be crossed. Nova did know what lines shouldn’t be crossed, but that didn’t stop her from dancing over them, or encouraging Anni to do so.

Anni was a very curious child; interested in the things she saw little of, such as other mudokons, sligs and glukkons. She gave little attention to vykkers, for she saw so many of them. She seemed to have a particular fascination with sligs which Nova didn’t understand.

“I don’t see what you like about them! I mean they just walk around and grunt and stuff.”

“But they’re cute, and funny!” Was Anni’s common reply. “Especially that new one, Ben.”

“Ha! You only like him because he’s got a mudokon name,” Nova replied, grinning cunningly.

“That’s not true. He’s really funny, and I bet he’s really nice,” Anni replied, pretending to be more upset than she was.

A plan for more fun was starting to form in Nova’s mind, “Well if he’s so nice, why don’t you see if he’ll play with you?” She asked, nearly laughing. Anni looked shy. “Come on,” Nova goaded, “I bet he would. We should go and see.”

Easily persuaded, Anni nodded and the two of them left their room, which on this occasion wasn’t locked so they didn’t have to get their secret stash of tools out from under a loose tile in the floor (it hadn’t been loose originally, but once Nova got the idea they had made it loose), and headed out into the lab to find the unfortunate slig.

They found him guarding outside one of the laboratories. Anni peaked out from behind a corner at him and Nova gave her a nudge, “Go on,” She told her.

Anni smiled excitedly and ran out. “Hi, Ben!” She yelled and leapt onto the slig’s back. Ben the slig yelped, overbalanced and fell over. Anni tumbled back, laughing.

“What in Odd’s name do you think you’re doing?” He yelled.

“I’m just playing,” She said with infallible enthusiasm. “Come on, will you play with me?”

Ben looked at her with an expression somewhere between rage and disbelief. “Don’t you have work to do or something?” Anni shook her head; apart from the occasional errand to run or message to carry, she and Nova were rarely given work to do. “Well I do,” The slig informed her coldly, “So quit bothering me.”

“Fine, I’ll come back when you’re not working then,” Anni told him and danced off to join Nova.

“Oh Odd, please don’t,” Ben muttered as she left.

A couple of hours later his shift ended and he met up with a couple of other sligs for a cigarette when he heard her voice yelling loudly down the corridor, “Ben!”

The other two sligs gave him looks that suggested he should not be on first name terms with mudokons. “Oh Odd, what do you want?” He hissed angrily.

She suddenly threw her arms around him from behind, making him yell out and wriggle away from her. “Get off of me!” His two companions made a bad attempt at concealing their mocking laughter.

“Come on, you said you’d play with me!” Anni laughed.

The other sligs were looking on with incredulous mirth.

“I never said I’d play with you!” He half-yelled, anger building. “Get lost!”

Anni looked slightly crestfallen, “Maybe tomorrow,” She muttered sheepishly.

“No, not tomorrow, or the day after, or any day after that! Go away!”

She grinned suddenly, “Oh, you’re funny!” She declared and danced away as the other two sligs burst out laughing.

“Ooh, play with me, Ben!” One jeered.

“No, you promised you’d play with me!”

Ben swore at them, “Shut it. How is it my fault? The bloody muds are allowed to run riot, and we’re not even allowed to beat them!”

“That’s where you’re wrong; you’re not allowed to beat them when the vykkers are around!” One informed him.

“Uhuh, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em.” The other added.

“Whatever, they can still fire you if they find out though can’t they!”

“And who’d tell them? No slig would, and the vykkers wouldn’t take a mud’s word over ours, less so those muds! There’s hardly a slig in this place who hasn’t taken a swing at Nova once or twice.”

“Anni wouldn’t be so bad alone,” The other slig mused, lighting a cigarette, “Without Nova putting her up to causing trouble.”

“So what am I supposed to do if the little one keeps bothering me?” Ben asked, wanting to prove that he wasn’t on naming terms with Anni.

“Just find Nova, she’ll be hiding somewhere nearby, watching. Tell her to get off your back, and if they keep coming smack her round the head.”

“Don’t smack Anni though,” The other added, “Nova’ll take it, but Anni’ll cause you a heap of trouble if you start beating her.”

With their advice in mind, Ben went to work the next day guarding outside a lab where the vykkers were working on some big project. He didn’t see either of the mudokons until two thirds of the way through the shift, when he caught sight of Anni’s head sticking around a corner. When she saw he’d seen her she withdrew and he heard her giggling. He snorted in annoyance and contempt and tried to ignore her but for the next two hours he kept seeing the top of her head or her feather disappearing around the corner, and hearing her and the other mud giggling. It made him uncomfortable, as it probably would anyone. He me up with the other sligs later on but didn’t mention the events of the day.

The following day the same thing happened; about two thirds through his shift the two muds camped themselves at a bend in the corridor and Anni kept poking her head round and the two of them kept giggling. This time he tried to combat their assault by staring fixedly at their corner. Whenever Anni’s face appeared she would see him there and, much to his annoyance, giggle and withdraw, only to reappear a few minutes later. After a while, Nova’s head appeared instead of Anni’s, and Ben got to see her for the first time. She was slightly taller than Anni, her skin a shade more purple (whereas Anni’s skin was lilac).She grinned at him wickedly and gave him a sarcastic wave before disappearing. He heard them both laughing out loud this time and his free hand balled into a fist as he tried to keep his temper under control.

A few minutes later, Anni stepped out of hiding and faced him, “Hi,” she said shyly. He swore at her in sliggish and she laughed and ran away. He heard them both running off down the corridor and he breathed a sigh of relief, but for the rest of the shift he couldn’t relax and kept involuntarily glancing back towards their corner, much to his own annoyance.

They didn’t reappear for the rest of the day and he went and joined the other sligs later and hissed, “Those muds are grinding my last nerves.”

“Why, what have they been doing to you?” Asked as slig – one who hadn’t been there when Anni had tried to hug him.

“Just spying on me all day, putting me on edge,” He grunted.

“Scared of a couple of muds; how pathetic,” Jeered one of the others. He remained silent and ignored the few other insults flung in his direction.

A couple of days later he was guarding outside the same lab. He had only been there about fifteen minutes when he spotted the two of them peeking out at them. He growled. Having them there all day would just be too much! Remembering the advice of the other sligs, he left his post by the door and stormed over to their corner.

Nova looked surprised when he appeared; Anni looked excited. “Listen you two, this isn’t a joke. Get out of here and leave me alone.”

“We’re only playing,” Anni answered innocently.

“Well I’m trying to focus on my work and you two spying on me all day is making it impossible, so-”

“Hey, slig!”

Ben winced.

“You’re supposed to be guarding this lab,” Trilled the high, nasal voice of a vykker, “Not wandering off to chat whenever you feel like it.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Grunted Ben, “But these mudokons were distracting me and I was just asking them to go away so I could guard the place properly.”

“How dare you talk to me like that?” Barked the vykker, “You’re lucky I don’t fire you on the spot, now get back here and do your job!” Ben glanced back round the corner to see the muds already running away. Nova glanced back to smirk at him and he gave her a lethal look, before walking back to his post by the door. The vykker gave him a disgusted look and hurried off. As soon as he was out of sight, Ben sent a number of offensive gestures in his direction.

Ben didn’t see the muds for a few more days and he began to hope they’d decided to leave him alone. This unfortunately was not to be however, for a few days later, just as he was coming off duty they appeared down the corridor and Anni came running towards him, Nova tagging along more slowly, smirking.

“Oh for Odd’s sake, go away!” He growled.

“Come on, Ben! I wanna play!”

“Get lost! I’m not going to play with you!”

“Come on, please!” Anni sang as she ran up to him. “We’ll have fun!” She jumped at him to grab onto him again.

Ben acted out of instinct, raising his gun and smacking her on the top of her head. She yelled from pain and collapsed.

Nova screamed a word that Ben doubted she’d heard the vykkers saying and leapt at him in a rage, scratching and trying to bite him. He shook her off and smacked her on the side of her head as she began screaming at him in anger. He ran off down the corridor and was out of sight before another slig arrived at the scene,

He took in the two crumpled mudokons, “Hey, what’s been happening here?” he demanded.

“That bzstrk slig, Ben, just attacked Anni and me!” She shrieked.

The slig paused for a moment to wonder how long Nova had been using sliggish swear words before answering. “Oh yeah, right, looks more like you two have been fighting about something.”

“No you idiot! I wouldn’t hit Anni like that!”

A vykker appeared at the end of a corridor and demanded, “What in the name of the Odd is happening here?”

“Nothing sir,” Replied the slig, “The muds have just been fighting about something.”

“That’s not true!” Screamed Nova, beside herself with anger, “That slig, Ben, attacked us! He hit Anni and when I tried to stop him he hit me as well!”

Anni was just stirring, looking dazed and scared.

“Oh, whatever,” The vykker answered dismissively, “Why would a slig attack you?”

“‘Cus he’s insane!”

The vykker scoffed, “All the sligs know what’ll happen to them if they hurt you two,” Said the vykker with an air of one who suffers.

“Then do whatever it is to Ben! Punish him!”

“I don’t have time for this now.” The vykker said to no one in particular and turned to the slig, “Whatever your name is, take them back to their room and lock them in.” He glanced at Nova who stared at him stubbornly. He sighed. “Use force if you have to. But only if you have to.”

“Ugh! You egotistical-” Nova began, but trailed off. Tears of anger and frustration ran down her cheeks. “Oh fine!” She said, miserably and hatefully. She grabbed Anni by the arm and yanked her to her feet while Anni looked surprised.

The vykker nodded, satisfied, and then added to the slig, “Go on then. Don’t hurt them unless you have to or I will have you punished,” And he headed off back the way he had come.

The slig smirked at the two mudokons. “Go on then, you heard him,” He said and herded them off down the corridor towards their cell. Once they were inside they heard him turn the key on the door, locking them in.

Nova threw herself on her bed, tears running down her face. Anni slumped against the wall, also crying, silently.

For a few minutes the room was quiet before Anni said sadly, “He hates me.”

Nova looked up at her. “Who?”

“Ben.”

“Oh, you’re not still worrying about that stupid slig?”

Anni sobbed, “I thought he liked me.”

“Come on, don’t worry about him. He’s just an idiot, like every other slig.” Anni looked away from her. Nova, realising this method of cheering Anni wasn’t working, slid off of her bed and crossed the room. Her own sorrows were forgotten in light of her best friend’s. “Don’t worry about it,” She said softly, sitting down beside her and putting her arm around her shoulders. “There are other sligs out there, nicer sligs. They’re not all nasty like him.”

Anni continued to look miserable, so Nova resorted to the final measure.

“Sweet, sweet brew,
I drink to you!”

She sang. Anni tried to wriggle away from her, but Nova wouldn’t let her. It was a song they had heard the sligs singing a few times and it always had the same affect on Anni.

“I drink it from a glass!”

Anni looked away, but the corners of her mouth began to twitch.

“And if I drink
Too much of it,
It comes out of my-”

“Nose!” Yelled Anni and they both burst out laughing, uncontrollably, helplessly, and the next thing they knew they were rolling around on the floor, tickling each other, laughing, playing, having the times of their lives.

Nova knew then that as long as they had each other they would never need anyone else, be it a slig, a vykker or a mudokon.

Anni just knew she was the happiest she would ever be in her life.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I feel really guilty after writing that, and anyone who knows anything about what's going to happen to the pair can probably guess why.
I did really get into that towards the end, basically from when Ben hit Nova and onwards, which is proably why the chapter is so long.
Anni is younger here, and more naive, so she acts somewhat different as to how she does in W@RF.

So yeah, let me know what you think; did you like the ending as much as I did?
As always feel free to criticise, point out any grammar errors so I can fix them, and so on.
For the people who do know what happens to Anni and Nova, don't say anything about it cus I don't want it spoilt for people who don't know!

Well, for me, the ending was both upsetting and happy. It was great to see some happiness in Anni's dark life and let her enjoy her time as she pleased. Seeing two kids play happily is a great thing to see, even after they both just got beaten. Yet it is upsetting to know what is to come and that their future is much less expected than they thought it to be. It is awful to see Anni and Nova believe that their life is going to be great for now on. No matter how much T-Nex showed Anni to be a great little kid in the beginning of W@RF, Anni does not show much happy times in her future.

Personally, it was actually hard to like Anni and Nova. You depicted them as annoying brats that giggled just by looking at Ben. I became a little more sympathic for Ben, a character that probably doesn't matter in the rest of the story as opposed to Anni, who is the main character. However, I did not like Ben lack of cooperation, which made him the kind of character you wouldn't like. But yet, I could see where Ben was annoyed. That is probably not the message you want Splat.

Ben at the end of the day is a slig, so he'll act like one, which means not humouring the mudokons. I remember Gappiqu has a meaner side to him.

As for Anni and Nova... Well yeah, Nova can be a bit of a brat, and Anni'll follow along with her. Like I said in the chapter,

Anni was naïve, and didn’t seem to know what lines should not be crossed. Nova did know what lines shouldn’t be crossed, but that didn’t stop her from dancing over them, or encouraging Anni to do so.

Nova doesn't like sligs much, so she's happy to annoy them. This will probably become more apparent later on. Ben might be one of the first sligs to be driven crazy by Anni, but he's not the first one we knew about.

And as T-nex just told me on MSN:
meh... Actually Anni and Nova are MEANT to be brats
Anni was bratty with Nick too in the start
And Razer

And Stivik
And Expert
And Reg
And Boogie
And Arthur

Ah memories

Ah... But one must see the much more sympathic side to Anni and Nova to actually like her, I believe? Yet, of course you can see Ben was a bit of a uncooperative, insecure jerk, thus proving Anni and Nova not as obnoxious as they seem.

Gappiqu has a meaner side to him due to the fact he is, in fact, insecure about his image. He has been treated as a Slig who is incredibly different and strange, thus making him an outcast who isn't quite ready to make a change. Gappiqu does not want to treated unfairly for his different personality. So he tries to prove that he is an important member of Rupture Farms and tries to show everyone what he is cabable of. (Evidentally, that would be someone brillant and someone who is a Slig)

Of course, his problems include unable to control himself. He will be filled with anger to the point where all thoughts of sympathy and controlling his anger was ignored. He had no other way to release. This relates to his brain damage. Yet, we must not forget that Gappiqu had been the very aggressive type of Slig in the past. He did beat Mudokons to such an exterme extent and often released his trouble through drugs and boxing. That might have something to do with lack of control as well.