“SO… WHAT SHALL BE THE FIRST THING YOU DO once you step foot upon the ‘Grand Stage’ AFTER I personally introduce you to the ‘public masses’, Your Majesty,” asked Emperor Voltair’s rather ‘flamboyant’ dark-skinned, golden-eyed, and platinum-blond-haired ‘Media Aid’; ‘Voltairan World News Media Personality’ Mikl Zylaz.
Sitting back in a reclining seat in the ‘Luxury Passengers Sector’ within his grand Transport Astro-Shuttle was the emperor himself, who had a rather ‘displeased’ expression on his flawless looking, godly face.
“I shall greet the crowd,” Emperor Voltair said to Mikl, who shook his head.
“NO. No, no, no, my emperor,” Mikl shockingly denied.
“No???”
“Yes, Your Majesty… NO. The first thing you MUST do is allow the crowd to ‘give their praise’ to you by singing our Planetary Anthem.”
“Ah. Yes… The Voltairan Creed.”
“Yes. THE VOLTAIRAN CREED. Once the crowd has sung the anthem it shall be THEN when you can ‘greet them’. Remember, Your Grace; a King does not bow to his people...”
“His people bow to him.”
“Exactly!” Mikl excitedly snapped. “Grand job, Your Royal Highness! So, once you have finished greeting the crowd, the Galactic Deciders are set to make ‘landfall’ on the Grand Stage immediately afterwards. Once they have arrived, you shall then lead them and the public masses in a brief ‘moment of silence and remembrance’ for the poor Galactic Deciders who lost their life-cycles in the ‘successful effort’ of bringing down the cursed Oath-Breaker.”
“Anora and Tristen,” Emperor Voltair said woefully whilst looking downward.
“Yes,” Mikl nodded sadly. “Deciders Anora and Tristen ‘bravely and selflessly’ laid down their life-cycles to ensure the survival of our people’s collectively BRIGHT future.”
Raising his head, Emperor Voltair narrowed his eyes as he sternly corrected, “You mean ‘MY’ people, Mikl?”
Eyes widened, Mikl quickly gave the grand emperor a nervous grin as he said, “Oh, uh, yes… Yes, of course, my Lord! ‘YOUR’ people. Heh, heh… My grandest apologies.”
“‘Twas what I thought. So, you do know what shall occur after the opening ceremony, Mikl?”
“After???”
“Yes, Mikl… AFTER. The Execution.”
Eyes widened, Mikl blurted, “Oh, yes! YES, OF COURSE! THE EXECUTION! The Execution of the ‘Oath-Breaker’s’ Keeper!”
“FORMER KEEPER,” the emperor angrily corrected. “Urgh… Lero. The thracking skogger. After the opening ceremony, I shall have that traitorous piece of raxx brought to the Grand Stage where I shall PERSONALLY put the tip of my ceremonial pulsar saber through the back of his neck for all of the public masses to witness.”
Emperor Voltair now clutched onto his golden Pulsar Saber hilt that he had attached to his right hip and pressed its ‘Activation Switch’ with his right thumb, extending its collapsible, ‘golden’ zilitium metal blade.
Mikl gave the shining saber blade a wide-eyed look of worry whilst he asked, “Your Highness… Though I STRONGLY disagree with what the Oath-Breaker’s former Keeper did, don’t you think that executing him in front of the public is a bit… Much?”
Flaring his nostrils, Voltair snapped, “NO, MIKL! TIS NOT ENOUGH!!!”
Mikl stared at the emperor in sheer shock now as Voltair continued, “THAT THRACKER DESERVES FAR WORSE TORTURES THAN ‘STABBED THROUGH THE BACK OF HIS THRACKING NECK’! TIS TOO GRAND! TOO CLEAN OF A DEATH! His vessel should be torn apart… LIMB FROM THRACKING LIMB and displayed around ALL FOUR corners of the city with his head being placed upon the tip of a Pulsar Spear before the Main Entry Gates to my Royal Palace!!!”
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Whilst Mikl continued to stare at Emperor Voltair in a ‘haunted’ way, a loud ‘beeping noise’ suddenly started to sound off from somewhere.
“Huh? What is that noise?” Mikl asked in confusion.
Ceasing his anger (for now) Emperor Voltair looked downward at his ornate ‘Holo-Watch’, which was strapped around his right wrist.
Seeing that he had an incoming ‘Holo-Call’, Emperor Voltair lowered his brow as he hit the ‘answer button’ on the watch’s ‘holo-screen’.
Shooting up from the holo-screen a split-milli-cycle later was a six-inch-tall hologram of the holy emperor’s Personal Hand/Acolyte, Barreth.
“Barreth? What is the meaning of this holo-call? What be the disturbance???” Emperor Voltair asked in concern as he glared at the real-time hologram of his Personal Hand.
“Grandest apologies for my ‘unplanned call’, my Emperor,” Barreth’s holo stammered as it fizzled slightly before Voltair. “But I come to you bearing news of a disturbance… A GRAND disturbance.”
“A grand disturbance??? In regard to what, Barreth?”
“Tis in regard to the ‘Grand Galactic Deciding Temple’, my Emperor.”
“The Temple? What is wrong with the Temple, Barreth?”
“Tis… Tis…”
“WHAT, BARRETH??? TIS ‘WHAT’?! SPEAK!!!”
“Gone,” Barreth said with a glum look on his sunken, ‘digitized’ face. “The Grand Galactic Deciding Temple… IS GONE, YOUR GRACE.”
“Gone,” Emperor Voltair repeated with his brow scrunched in confusion. “BARRETH… What do you thracking mean that tis…”
Zzzzzzzzz!
Before Emperor Voltair could finish asking his question, the holo of Barreth suddenly ‘fizzled’ away into nothingness.
“Huh? What the thrack,” Emperor Voltair huffed as he tapped on the activation button to his holo-watch, but it was no use.
The holo-watch was showing a ‘no signal connection’ to the city’s ‘Main Holo-Signal Server’.
“What is the problem, my Emperor,” Mikl asked a very confused Voltair.
“My holo-watch… Tis has no signal.”
“No signal? Hmm… Maybe it has malfunctioned? Gone ‘dead’, perhaps?”
“IMPOSSIBLE. Tis still has a ‘full charge’... Look!!!”
Emperor Voltair proceeded to shift his holo-watch over to Mikl, who looked down upon its holo-screen to see that its battery read at ‘one hundred percent’ charge.
“Hmm… Strange,” Mikl huffed as he looked down at his own holo-watch. “Very strange. My holo-watch seems to not have any signal either, my Emperor.”
Lowering his brow, Emperor Voltair growled, “Urgh… What a load of raxx! ‘State of the art’ tech and it cannot even hold a thracking signal!”
As the tyrannical ruler of planet Voltaira continued to ‘freak out’ over his supposedly ‘faulty’ holo-watch, Mikl disregarded his own and said, “Tis nothing, my Emperor. We must focus on more important things than ‘malfunctioning tech’. The Grand Celebration… REMEMBER???”
“The Grand Galactic Deciding Temple… Barreth said before the signal ‘cut off’ that the Temple ‘was gone’.”
“Yes, that he did, my Emperor… But how could that possibly be true? Tis doesn’t make any sense.”
“No… Tis not… But it has ‘piqued’ my interest.”
Rising up from his seat, Emperor Voltair straightened up his golden, flowing ‘ceremonial cape’ as Mikl looked up at him in confusion to ask, “Your Majesty, where are you going?”
“I am going up to the Cockpit to tell the pilots to turn around and set a ‘new’ course,” Emperor Voltair informed. “One for the Grand Galactic Deciding Temple.”
“No! My Emperor, we cannot do that! The Grand Celebration begins in twenty minute-cycles! We cannot afford to waste any more time!”
Glaring at his Media Aid now, Emperor Voltair gritted, “Do not raise your voice at me, Mikl. By you doing so, I take it as a GRAND sign of disrespect.”
Mikl reared back in his seat and said fearfully, “I… I do not mean to ‘disrespect’ you, my Emperor. I simply am just saying that we are almost to the Grand Stage. Tis shall take AT LEAST ten to fifteen minute-cycles to get you FULLY prepared to address the Public Masses. None of that shall happen though if you decide to have the shuttle turned ALL THE WAY AROUND to journey towards the Temple… WHICH IS ON THE ‘OTHER SIDE’ OF THE CITY.”
“I know where it is, you thracking kroone… BUT… What you say does have ‘some’ merit. Ugh… Fine. We shall continue on with our voyage to the Grand Stage. I am certain that whatever is going on at the Temple can be handled by the Knights who are stationed there.”
Glaring at Mikl once more, Emperor Voltair fumed with a fiery glare in his eyes, “IF it ‘cannot’ be handled by them, I shall go to the Grand Galactic Deciding Temple… AND HANDLE IT MY-THRACKING-SELF.”
