[mainard]

here's a brand new chapter for you all... hope you enjoy...

The small metal ball made a hard, ringing sound as it smashed into the wall. Rebounding violently, it bounced once, hard, across the floor, before thudding into the warm roughness of an open palm. Roach hissed as he shifted his shoulders against the wall, took aim, and hurtled the metal ball forcefully against the opposite wall once again. The ball repeated its clangorous performance, scuffing the oil soiled metal of the floor slightly in it’s return flight. Weighing the ball broodingly, he huffed grouchily, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to his peculiar, soothing game. The technique was to throw it just so… to hit the wall just right, and with just so much force, to cause the ball to bounce back to its place of origin. Since metal wasn’t much of a bouncing material, it had to be thrown hard… tensing up, he took aim once again, drawing back for another throw.
Clangk- thunk, Clangk- thunk, Clangk-
The weary looking mudokon down the hall winced in its cleaning, it’s worn face flinching at the sharp rapport. Dragging the blackened scrub brush dejectedly across the soiled metal, it flinched repeatedly, looking frazzled. He could tell he was giving it a headache. Just for variety, he took aim and hurtled the ball violently at the wall, catching it without a bounce, and grumpily enjoying the loud, harsh sound and the mudokon’s startled jump.
The deep, ill tempered rumble came from well above head height, and would have even had he been standing, instead of curled up in a slump against the wall outside the room as he was now. Craning his neck slightly, he kneaded the reassuringly cold metal ball in his palm as he looked up and up at the jaded, tentacled visage of the Big Bro hovering in the corridor to his right.
"Mrrgh man… Keep it down would ya? I’ve enough of a freakin migraine as it is…" The words were unfriendly, and the big brute didn’t halt his lumbering until he had plunked himself heavily down beside the door, glaring through his mask at the smaller example of his race matching his distemperate stare glance for glance.
Roach grunted in disgust. "So you were sent to babysit us were you?" His sneer was past grumpy, and well on the way to combative.
The rumble turned warning, the massive slig almost spitting the words. "M’a Big Bro. We don’t babysit anyone. I’m here as a regular guard. Just because the station happens to be here means I was sent to keep an eye on you."
"Riiight. You just keep telling your ego that."
"You grizzled old freak! I could smash your ugly head with two fingers-"
Thoroughly enjoying himself, Roach tensed, another stinging reply coming to him… when the hand closed over the back of his neck, it fled from his mind, as he looked up into the irate, maskless face of the Executioner, the Big Bro drawing back slightly in startlement. Neither of them had seen the door open at all; it was as if he had just materialized in thin air… knowing his boss, he wondered if that wasn’t the case.
The executioners voice was soft, rather gentle; Roach winced. When he sounded nice, it was usually because he wasn’t pleased at all…
"Three hours into the assignment and you’re already starting fights with the local troops? Now you know how that reflects upon me if you start a ruckus…" As the words flowed, the fingers firmly grasping the ridged back of his neck began to tighten, straining harder and harder. The pain shot along his spine, aching bones grinding against each other as the pressure steadily increased.
Utterly ignoring the pain, Roach glared, his voice a seething hiss in his throat as he stared balefully at his boss. Shaking with rage, he struggled to suppress the pain, pushing himself to his feet. The Executioner largely ignored him, turning instead to the looming shape beside the doorway.
"And you. Sent here to keep an eye on us?"
"I was sent here to watch this corridor. The fact of you being here means nothing."
"I dunno, seems rather demeaning to me… and rather pointless. A futile effort on their part, all things considering…"
The Big Bro tensed at the words, an angry shudder rippling across his muscular body. "And what the hell do you mean by that??"
The Executioner merely smiled, his grizzled face twisting into a grin. "Well… sending you of course. Rather impressive to look at and all that… but not exactly what I would call an effective guard."
Seething, the towering figure shook with barely repressed rage. "WHAT?? I could snap both of your pathetic twiggy little spines with one hand each! I could crush you-" He halted, heavily affronted, at the soft, snickering sound of the Executioner’s laughter.
"Oh I quite don’t think so my dear boy… you don’t know at all a whit about what you’re talking about… you have NO idea at all…"
The Big Bro’s fist tensed. Massive fingers grinding together, the tall form growled, the sound echoing from the walls. Looking nervous, the small shadowy shape of the mudokon slipped silently along a wall, not wanting to be around such a potentially lethal situation… shaken, it disappeared around a corner and was gone.
"And what are you going to do? Punch me now?" Gently amused, the scarred, grizzled slig still shook silently with laughter. "Didn’t it ever occur to your minuscule brain that there might be a reason for me not being afraid of you?" Leaning closer, he almost brushed the slig’s massive arm. "You want to hit me? Go on ahead…" Pulling back, he opened his arms wide, the look on his face one of amused cruelty, harsh to look upon. "You hit me… then, providing I survive… heh… I hit you back. Fair trade neh?" The sligs matched glares, measuring each other. Roach just stood by the side, seething and rubbing the back of his neck.
"Well? Aren’t you going to hit me? Go ahead. Hit me… what are you waiting for? Hit me. HIT ME!!" Voice taunting, unbearable, the Executioner leaned forward, his voice mocking as he snarled in the Big Bro’s downcast face. A look of twisted frustration warped the Big Bro’s face. Snarl erupting into a roar, the Big Bro drew back, fist a massive block of meat and bone, tensed to iron hardness… With a roar, it swung.
The breath exploded from Roach’s lungs in a startled, agonized huff as the massive fist slammed into him, smashing brutally into his body. He felt bones snap as he was flung violently back. Skipping brutally along the corridor, he slid to an agonized halt, curling around the flaming agony of his broken ribs, their unnatural angles bare centimeters below his skin. Blood flowed from between his tentacles as he struggled, gasping raggedly and ineffectually at the air. His legs lay several feet to his right, behind him.
The Executioner gave the Big Bro an appraising look, a slow smile taking his face. "Hmm. Perhaps your not as hopelessly stupid as I thought you were. Interesting…" Turning, he glanced down the corridor. "ROACH!"
A warbling, gargled moan answered him.
"I didn’t teach you basic regeneration techniques for nothing you lazy son of a bitch. You call that hurt? That’s a love tap compared to what I’m going to do to you if you don’t get healed and on that assignment right away. YOU HEAR ME?? lousy good for nothing slacker…" Muttering, he turned, slipping into his room. The door hissed closed behind him, leaving nothing but the embarrassed cough of the Big Bro and the grating heaving gasps of the other figure down the hall.