Chapter 2, Family, who needs em?
Janos Marik, Captain General of the Free Worlds League and First Lord of the Star League was trapped in the main conference room of the palace with the people he most despised. No, not Capellans, though that little "poison dwarf" Max Liao was going to pay for this as soon as he managed to quell this "outbreak of cannibalistic behavior." No, not the Steiners, though he sincerely hoped that this was going on on Tharkad as well, it would serve that old skinflint bat Katrina Steiner right! (Gee Janos, tell you how you really feel). He'd had to sacrifice good and loyal retainers to stay one step ahead of...those things, that used to be his citizens. His people. He wanted to scream, but he knew, it was just the universe kicking him in the shins again. Janos felt so tired from the run the small group had made for their lives, and the blood-encrusted chainsaw wasn't a light burden either, no, sitting in the padded chair was a relief, and it gave him to think about his next move, and what to do about his brood of ingrates and fools.
Nope, he was stuck with his ingrates of a family. First, there was Duggan. The little schmuck was good at his job being Minister of Trade, but he never met an M-Bill he didn't like. And worse, Janos suspected he wasn't the only Marik enjoying the affections of his mistress, Brownen.
Then there was Duncan...ah, just like his Unkie Anton, and just as loyal. He also had a small problem in that his little off the cuff remarks to the press tended to get the family in trouble...a lot. Then there was the small issue that in these currently troubled times, Duncan would think nothing of slitting Janos's throat and blaming those things with having killed him. Yes, Duncan was the most dangerous, and yet, the most blinded by his ambition. Like the others in the room would let him get away with it...(Ah, Marik family gatherings, one sees more love and togetherness amongst the Manson family.)
Then there was Thomas...visiting home from ComStar (good time, for that, huh?) and well, he did exhibit a recent reluctance to get his hands dirty. He shrieked like a girl when a zombie grabbed him..If Brownen hadn't shot the damn thing, the heir to the throne would be zombie kibble by now... and he was so, so naive. Parliament would walk all over him....
Wait a second! Zombies, when the hell did I start calling them Zombies? But the appellation fit. Hunger for human flesh, check. Little if any social interaction except for moaning and trying to kill everything living, check. Definite skin pallor, check.
Yep, they're zombies. Janos shook his head.
Speaking of Parliament (Name a Captain-General of the League that had anything GOOD to say about Parliament.), he sincerely hoped the overstuffed fools gave the zombies an all they could eat buffet. He chuckled as he imagined the rotund Speaker attempting to run for his life..
Ah, what was the first lesson of that movie? Oh yes, Cardio. No, he was stuck in a room with a bunch of idiots bound to get him killed...and he didn't want to die just yet.
But the squabbling of his children wasn't improving his mood, or his survival chances...
"Listen people, I have a plan, I say we get all the guns we can and shoot our way out!" Duncan protested, showing the deep thinker he was.
Thomas simply sulked in the corner, drawing ideas on a napkin for a portable flying machine that needed more parts and materials than they possessed right now.
Meanwhile, Duggan and Brownen were sharing oft glances where their eyes said it all "
Does the old man know? No, it was time for Janos to do a little pruning of the family tree. Shame there was only one way out of this sealed, hardened bunker of a conference room. And of course, that way was being pounded relentlessly on by zombies. Not to mention there was only enough emergency rations to last 5 people for a week, but for one? One could last a few months...long enough to last till help arrived. Janos could only hope the provinces would send help...but knowing the sycophants and treasonous slime that ran the province, most of them would sing "Ding Dong, Janos is dead." and become independent states, making war on each other before the announcement about the Captain-General's death was dry (Ah the League, one shout away from a civil war. It's an interstellar Lebanon...).
And Janos had the perfect tool to do it...as he rubbed the chainsaw suggestively. Some would say Janos had lost his mind, especially considering what he was about to do next...but Janos, Janos simply thought
I finally understand why some animals eat their young. Janos pulled the starter cord on the chainsaw, and it thundered to life on the first try. None of the others had weapons...the fools. Well, their loss...not his.
He advanced on the crowd of his "family." The chainsaw was held high, and an evil smirk contrasted the hard eyes on his face. "Hello children.." Janos mused, almost playfully "Daddy's back, and he brought a friend..say hi to Mr. Choppy!" as he fell upon Duncan first.
The rest of the children scattered, but it did them no good, Duggan however was next, as he simply blubbered on, confessing to every secret account full of ill-gotten gains in an effort to save his worthless hide (Duggan Marik, beg...well, I guess we saw this coming).
The screams went on for a while and all the while, Janos smiled as he went about his grisly work, humming a popular tune from his youth off-key and not caring who heard.
After he was done, he threw the still running chainsaw aside, and watched idly as it slowly cut through the opposite wall's false wood panel. He then limped away (Damn Brownen actually kicked me in the shins!) and sat down, fetching a small legal pad and a ballpoint pen from the center of the conference room table.
He scrawled on the pad simply: "I quit, you can have this mess you ingrates! -Janos"
As for the zombies, they broke in an hour later, and Janos Marik, the last Captain-General of the Star League offered no resistance, alternating between screaming and laughing as they devoured him like a royal buffet, which, in fact, he was.
After that, the planet was still, still except for the moaning of the dead.
