Grimjack stood opposed to the giant Orphan Crusher. It loomed over him, and even in the Sturgian mobile battle armor that had been grafted onto him, this was going to be tough. The Orphan Crusher raised one of its dozen arms to strike down at him, and Grimjack saw his opportunity. Since their last fight he had upgraded his chainsaw glove. Now not only was there a chainsaw on each finger, but on each tooth of the chainsaw blade was another microscopic chainsaw, and on the teeth of all of those were more chainsaws and so on and so on infinitely growing smaller and smaller chainsaws. He’d have to thank the chaos merchants next time he saw them.

Bring Bring. Bring Bring.

The comm inside his helmet was ringing. It was a priority message from the Council of Grundoks. He cursed under his breath as the window for his counterattack had quickly vanished. He wished for once that he could decide what was his top priority. He was tired of letting enemies live just because they needed him immediately.

“Got to go.”

The Orphan Crusher stopped mid swing and brought his many arms back to his sides. “What?” he called out in a gravelly voice. “You’re punching out early again?”

“Council’s orders,” he grumbled through his staticky com.

The Orphan Crusher groaned and shook his monstrous, deformed head. “You gotta just go independent like me man. Freelance is the only way to live.”

“Yeah well, we don’t always get what we wish for.”

“Good luck man. Though I’ll definitely be the one to kill you next time.”

“Yeah right. I didn’t even get to pull out my trump card.”

“You and me both brother.”

They both chuckled and waved goodbye as Grimjack got back into his deliverance pod. It was just a job after all. No reason to get all worked up and hold grudges. Especially not in his line of work.

Grimjack fell asleep listening to future punk as his small pod traversed the stars. He may have been kitted out with some of the most advanced cybernetic armor and genetic modifications, but he preferred old school music. It resonated with him better than the post-futurist stuff being made today.

He woke up with the impact of his ship landing and pushed his way out with an internal sigh. Yep, it was clearly that time of year again. The entire station was filled with red and green decorations. The Christmas spirit of the horde shone brightly through their raw dedication to outdoing each other in their decorations and attire. He could even swear he saw someone had spliced their lower body to look like a reindeer and a sleigh. He just kept his head down and rushed towards the Council’s chambers.

“Grimjack, that you?”

A deep voice reverberated through Grimjack’s armor. He knew it could only eb one person and rushed to avoid them, but a strong hand on his shoulder saw to it that he would be going nowhere.

“It is you!” A giant of a man had his hand on Grimjack’s shoulder. He spun the heavily armored warrior around and brought him in for a bear hug. “It’s been so long! Why don’t you visit more often?”

“Hey there Tor, how is Grimjill?”

“Ah, well you know her. Still a firecracker, but the holidays soften her up.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Anyway, I need to see the Council, so…”

“Going to see the Council, eh? Well, you’ve been out on missions I’ll bet, so it’s understandable.” Tor released Grimjack from his iron grip and turned around to search through a box that had been roughly painted to look like a Christmas present.

As Grimjack started to sneak away, Tor cried out in glee and turned around with a cheap felt Santa hat. “Oh no no, no no no. I don’t think so.”

“Come now Grimjack, you hardly seem like you’re ready for the holiday season in your jet black armor. You’ve got to have something to represent your cheer.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m still in black Tor. Now, I really need to go.”

Grimjack’s enhanced reflexes let him just dodge out of Tor’s reach and slip away before his armor was defaced by the holiday garb. Not wanting to lose momentum he began to sprint away as Tor called out to him. It was something about a dinner, and so he definitely did his best to tune it out. He and his sister hadn’t been on speaking terms since the incident.

Finally, he made it to the Council’s chambers. The oppressive darkness illuminated by sparse candles was comforting after having to go through so much red, white, and green. He kneeled in the center of the room and lowered his head.

“What is your desire, oh great Grundoks?”

One by one, the candles snuffed out leaving Grimjack in complete darkness. Then glowing pairs of eyes surrounded him. A low humming echoed around him before one pair of eyes moved closer.

“Grimjack the Eviscerator, greatest of our shadow killers, we have an important task for you.” The voice was ethereal, almost like it wasn’t coming from any one place, but was pouring in from the entire room at once.

“Whatever wish you have of me I will grant. No matter how much blood must be spilt.”

“Your loyalty is noted, but we merely need you to deliver this.” There was a small thud as a tightly wrapped small package landed in front of Grimjack.

He nodded as he picked up the package. With a twist of a few knobs and the press of a button, a small cavity in his leg hissed as it opened up. He set the package inside and closed it again. Inside he was cursing and swearing over being made into a lowly delivery boy, but outside he slowly he stood up and saluted. “Tell me where to go, and not even a Praxian Acid Worm will slow me down.”

“Of course. This mission will take you to Earth, specifically, the North Pole.”

Grimjack’s thoughts came a crashing halt as he started to piece everything together. “no…” he muttered.

The Council leaned forward as red and green Christmas lights sprung on all around the ceiling. In the tall brown robes, each of the Grundock’s had on Santa hat connected to a fake white beard covering their faces. Then all at once they began to speak.

“This is of grave importance.” Said one.

“Yes! You must hurry to reach Santa before Christmas Eve!” said another.

“Earlier would be better of course, he must have time to prepare.” Said a third.

On this last comment they all murmured in agreement while Grimjack’s hand started to hover towards his self-destruct button.