"YOU! ULU!" the creature shouted.
I had heard the conversation between it and Hack. Me, a super-being? I certainly felt no extraordinary powers, other than my sight. I had to do this on my own. Like I had learned on the prison planet of Gurkos Primus. I readied my weapon. I noted the radiation from his belt and realized that this thing must be wearing Telerian body armor. I had one shot. That one shot would expend the armor in a particular region and then I would go in. But I needed a moment of surprise. "Eh?" I said. "Who who?'
"Whadya mean, fella? Who's this Urloo?"
"You're Ulu!" he said again.
"Oh, no, my friendly. My name is Sparkle. You know, from the Tipi Sarcophargus Club upstairs?" I gestured vaguely toward the surface. "I thought I was coming to meet a man's man down here." I giggled.
I was met with silence. It was what I hoped for. The creature seemed to be momentarily confused. I pushed forward. "Say, guy, I see you have a human head with you. Oooohhhhhh!!! Put it down for now! Later, I'll show you what we can do with that!" He stood still. I could sense the rusty cogs of his mind churning, tumbling. "I can make your dreams come true, sailor." I pitched my voice into a gentle, motherly tone. "What's your name?" I said with a smile.
Still there was silence. Then he seemed to shuffle back and forth a bit, nervously. "I like girls," he said.
"Oh, I'm sure you do!" I said. "Don't we all?" I smiled knowingly. "But, uh, you're a soldier. I know what that means, believe me! Are you, uh, not getting along with the guys in your barracks?"
"Well," he said, drawing it out for a long while, "sometimes the guys -- they kid me a little. They ... they say I'm weird 'cause I like girls. But, but, I say 'Commander Kretz likes girls'! But they laugh at me. They say he likes girls for dinner and boys for breakfast. I don't know what that means."
"Just relax," I said. "Look, I know the secret to what you need. I think I can help you finally fit in with your mates. Do you want to hear it?" He thought for a moment. He didn't answer, but he leaned ever so slightly forward.
I moved. I raised my blaster and shot at his ribcage, opening his shield. At the same moment, I launched myself at him. I surprised myself that I was traveling almost as fast as my blaster shot. My head penetrated his exposed chest. I first tasted his pancreas. Then I ripped into his liver. Finally, I reached up with my free hand and grabbed his hair. I wrenched him down to the the ground, horizontal to my feast. I reveled as my teeth sunk into his lungs, and then his heart. I pulled my head out of his chest, pieces of his life's muscle still in my mouth.
Covered in his blood, I looked at his face. He was still alive. His eyes were bulging out. He was trying to grasp what was happening to him. I didn't give him any answers. I spit the pieces of his heart into his face. Then I plunged my fingers into his eye sockets. It was more difficult than I thought, but I persisted until my fingers were well into his brain. I pushed my thumb into his nasal cavity and began to smash his skull into the sewer's floor. As I slammed his head into the floor, I twisted my hand, wanting nothing less than to invert his face. His bones and muscles didn't cooperate much, so I had to smash his skull into the floor one hundred and seventeen times. I kept a count. It is a number I will treasure and pass on to my not-yet-born children.
I stood. I washed my hands in the blood from Hackner's head. I smeared the mixed blood of my friend and my conquered foe over my face.
I was calm.
But I was done with their games.
I picked up the justly mutilated corpse of Kretz's bodyguard. I ascended out of the sewers and, carrying the body, I walked the mile or more to the fleet regional headquarters -- Kretz's home office. It was the middle of the night, so no one was around. What a pity. I hung the body on a lamp post in front of the office. I took out my knife and finished gutting the mongrel. I wrapped his intestines around his legs, up around his neck, and finally stuffed the remainder into his mouth. I shouted for someone to come, but there was no one. I drenched my hand in what was left of his blood and wrote one word -- "canaan" -- on the headquarters' front door.
I returned to the sewer entrance and took possession of the Rod of D'Lessio from Hackner's body. I knew what I should do with it, but did I care enough anymore?