The constables and the legionnaires melted the hybrids as they rushed around in a state of absolute panic and confusion. It was all over in minutes. When the dust began to settle, The Legionnaires turned to see the constables had blown open a wide hole to the Drydellian street level that ran along the border to the old habitation hive that had become the hybrid’s den. The constables stood in an orderly line, using the perfect height advantage to rain devastation down upon the remnants of the hybrid horde.

There was a loose sandy dune that they could carefully climb to make their way out of this chamber and to the street.

They looked up to hear the faint sounds of clapping from a tall lean figure in a black robe.

“Bravo! Excellent performance, brave Legionnaires. It seems that enduring all your insults and incompetence was well worth it, despite me nearly dying, and my suffering from those leech bites.”

Moloch ignored Rofoscue and waved his hand forward. He didn’t want to spend another moment in this void cursed place.

“Brothers, let us take our leave of this wretched hole.” He said, just happy that he was going to live after all he had endured today.

A cool breeze wafted down, making the cool dark streets of Drydellia seem inviting.

“Belay that order.” Supervisor Rofoscue said in an imperious tone. “You and your ragged band of cretins will not be going anywhere.”

Moloch’s heart sank.

“What do you mean Rofoscue?” He shouted up to him.

Krasus stepped beside him and joined in.

“You best mind your tongue in the presence of the Legion, Rofoscue! We have reached the limit of our tolerance of your insolence.”

“Should I?” Rofoscue said with a hint of humor in his voice. He waved his hand limply. Both constables on either side of him opened fire and shot two of the Legionnaires at the end of their line. They died with pitiful gurgling sounds.

Moloch looked at his dying fellows.

“Drop your weapons. Don’t make us shoot the rest of you down like the dogs you are.” Rofoscue commanded.

The legionnaires looked to Moloch and Krasus. They nodded slowly and everyone dropped their weapons in the sand at their feet.

“So its treason then. We have already found out that you and your ilk are behind the hybrid den.” Moloch shouted up at them. He was angry now, they had survived all this just to be betrayed by Rofuscue.

“I had no doubt that you would. Why do you think I had my constables put down a jamming field all around this place? There is no way you can get any comms out through the blankers. So the burden will fall on me, to explain what happened here today. It will be my sad duty to inform the Republic that despite your gallant efforts the hybrids proved too much for you, and your forces were overwhelmed and fell to the vicious hybrid horde. We arrived just in time to avenge you, and finish off the last of them. So sad!” He said his face twisting into an overexaggerated expression of mock sorrow.

“You won’t get away with this Rofoscue.” Krasus said, and tried to charge up the dune towards the opening. The sand was too soft and he slid back down again.

Rofoscue laughed at Krasus’ efforts.

“Do you think I’d be standing here talking with you if I believed that was so?”

“Why did you bother saving us?” Moloch shouted up. “You could have just let the hybrids finish us off.”

“Because my pride demanded that before you die, you shall listen to how in death you will serve us far better than you did in life. So that when you finally do die, by the order from my lips, and by my hand, you shall find no peace.”

“I liked you better when you were smelling Jakob’s hair on the Gondola and raving about your consciousness.” Salazaar called up as he staggered his way forward. He was using a dropped emitter rifle as a makeshift crutch. His face looked pale and drained.

Rofocues expression clouded at the reminder of his whimsical past behavior. “When you left me on the Gondola with Jakob I was teetering between life and death. But thankfully several of my good capable constables arrived with the reversal shot. In five minutes I was back to my old self, my proper senses restored.”

“The employees in the Leech parlor said that there wasn't a reversal shot.” Salazaar said.

“There isn’t one for subspecies scum such as you, but we’ve always had one in case of freak incidents like I suffered earlier.”

“I’d think your discomfort would have brought you some much needed perspective about the suffering of others.” Salazaar spat.

“Oh It has.” Rofoscue said, crossing his arms and letting a smirk play across his lips. “Those that do not have, are destined to suffer. Therefore it is better to take than be taken.”

Salazaar shook his head. “The orchards of the wealthy are watered with the blood of the poor.” Salazaar said, quoting an old republic saying from the lower levels.

Rofoscue smiled thinly. “Just so constable. In a few minutes your dead bodies will be burned beyond recognition, and returned to the legion to be put to rest in whatever it is they use to house your remains. Some big communal urn isn’t it?”

He looked down at the survivors imperiously waiting for a response, one of the legionnaires hacked up a mouthful of blood sputum and spat it in the sand before him.

Rofoscue grimaced in disgust, turning his head away. The legionnaires shared a smile between them.

“Once the Legion learns that you and the hybrids exterminated each other, they will be satisfied with the return of your remains and the knowledge that you died doing your duty. Isn’t it so?”

He put his hands on his bony hips and smiled down.

Moloch frowned. Hundreds of members of the Legion died every day in their duty. The Legion wouldn’t like it, but they would have to accept it as a natural consequence of serving the Republic. The arrogant Drydellian might just get away with his whole devious scheme.

“I just have one question for your Rofoscue.” Moloch said, casually turning and waving at all the carnage. He palmed a tiny spare emitter pistol that he kept tucked into his waistband and when he turned, and did his best to conceal it under his armor, tucking in it under his arm and covering the butt by crossing his arms. He turned back around.

Rofoscue pursed his lips and arched an eyebrow by way of reply, waiting for him to state his question.

“Why? Why bring us here? Why this whole charade?” He asked as he searched Rofoscues’ face for any sign that he saw his concealed pistol. If he did, Moloch could not discern it.

“I supposed you’ve earned as much.” Rofoscue said, putting his hands behind his back and pacing back and forth, like an orator delivering a speech. Moloch knew it was probable that Rofoscue would not miss an opportunity to brag about his schemes.

“Because Drydellia has foes in the Senate, bigots, truth be told, who were beginning to ask too many questions about our lifestyle down here, and they have begun to draft a whole report about it. Apparently too many citizens were going missing, there were rumors of a hybrid den and there had been scandalous leaks that we were treating our employees unfairly. So unless something drastic happened, a formal case against us was going to be opened in the Senate. After all, you can only bribe away your problems for so long. If that happened we would have a whole team of auditors, investigators and Republic marshalls crawling all over our level, poking their noses into matters that do not concern them. This way, calling you here can tie everything up nice and neatly! The hybrids are exterminated, order has been restored, and we have already prepared a group of citizens to testify about how lovely Drydellia is as a place to live and work. And now here we are, at the end of your performance!”

Rofoscue pointed a long condemning finger down at Salazaar.

“And you Salazaar, I have endured your passive aggressive, half hearted service for too long! And while I’ve had my own reasons for exercising restraint and not popping your nape, I always wanted to see the look on your face when I finally got the chance to do so. My only regret is that my intelor pad is still broken, and I will have to settle for this instead.”

Salazaar only glared up at Rofoscue with a look of intense hatred.

There was a screeching coughing cackle from behind them. The constables raised their emitter rifles, at the new sound, searching around through the darkness of the chamber.