TRAVELING FASTER than the speed of light, the gigantic saucer magnetically pulsed into a different dimension. The Stargirls beamed through space, unaware someone called Aagaatar, “The Great Evil,” ruled the better part of the Vanngeez galaxy, while a horrifying fiend named Garlig was in command of the Zaagon saucer imprisoning them. Garlig was the Aagaa Zaagon’s Master Torturer—a monster’s monster.
The Stargirls’ earthly innocence was no match for their vile powers that conspired to control their lives and destiny. Furthermore, Aagaatar was the evil incarnate that conjured unthinkable horrors to dominate the universe and destroy all that was good.
The Aagaa Zaagon Empire was a murderous civilization that interbred with elite members of conquered enemies to strengthen its racial supremacy. The Aagaa race, named for its evil god. Aagaa was an unholy word uttered in the throes of sex, heat of battle, or in curses. The Aagaa were a paranoid race feared and hated for their perverse genius and legendary cruelty. Their way of life founded on depravity and lust for killing. Random murder was condoned and slaughtering the enemy given the highest reward. Homicide and mass murder was as necessary to the Aagaa as the air they breathed. The Aagaa Death ethos believed superior for domination of the universe. Black holes were the embodiment of Aagaa philosophy of Thanatos and symbolized their destructive forces that annihilated planets and civilizations.
The Aagaa’s invention of Zano warfare marked a new epoch in their conquest of the Vaangeez galaxy. Advanced civilizations of the Vaangeez galaxy had fought and fled the Aagaa’s bloodthirsty invasion to survive.
The Star people had led the last Star rebellion, the Aagaa Zaagon Empire’s greatest enemy—but now encircled they faced extermination. Abysmally, the military union between the Star people, Etuu, Zataba, Noling, and Trions had collapsed, crushed by Garlig’s War of Terror. Regardless, the Star people chose to fight to the death rather than surrender to genocide. Genocide was on the mind of the one in control of the Stargirls.
Garlig craved nothing more than the destruction of all enlightened beings; he viewed them as subversive threats. Advanced civilizations had felt the cleansing wrath of the Aagaa Zaagon Empire, what the Evil Master, Aagaatar proclaimed the “Final Solution.”
Garlig had ingeniously trapped the Star people in the Vaangeez galaxy and laid siege to their defensive outposts, softening them up for the final assault. Now, he wondered why he felt such loathing for the aliens. He ordered them isolated and requested one be brought to him for interrogation. He felt her youth, a weak link to take advantage of—yet, oddly, feared her the most.
“Aagaa,” he swore, “Aagaa, Aagaa.” He thought that when the Master finished using them, he would have his way. The sadistic thought made his misshapen mouth spew out black drool. “Aagaa, Aagaa,” he howled. The craving to maim and kill grew uncontrollable as his powerful tentacles engorged with blood flailed the air. Conflicting passions arose— to touch their flesh—that checked his homicidal impulse, driving him to command his Troag guards to bring them all, despite his inspired plan to question the one. He wanted to possess them. He wanted to get up close to touch and smell them, smell their organic juices that gave them life.
Garlig let out an ugly laugh; the exotic life forms presaged; his Master’s worst nightmare now stood powerless before him. The Star people’s assassins, sent to save them, would stand in judgment while he probed their vulnerability. He was the master artist of terror. Inspired by a macabre soul, he covered the canvas of life with mayhem and destruction. Some of his subjects required short rapid strokes to break them, while others long brush strokes of agony to render them a work of genius. Those who failed his artistic vision savagely killed.
Anticipation, terror’s handmaid, he manipulated expertly. Mind crippling tools, he plied imaginatively. He used love to create unbearable torture, forcing those he could not break or drive insane to witness loved ones butchered. The whispered threat the aliens represented only fueled the horrors his mind created for them. His blind hatred was a mix of rage and sexual tension. He detested anything that challenged his power. Anything getting in his way was damned.
Garlig roared when informed they soon would stand before his reproachful gaze. He sat on the right-hand side of Aagaatar, the highest Aagaa honor for his unrivaled treachery, shocking violence, and daring conquests.
In the meantime, the monstrous beasts prodded the Stargirls toward the command center with avenging blows to their bodies. The beasts, traumatized by Garlig’s torture, had turned their rage on the Stargirls.
Jill cried out in pain, “God help them if they’ve harmed Lyn.” They had abandoned close combat, choosing to yield as part of their escape plan. They agreed to act helpless so the enemy would underestimate them, given their defeat by the steely-eyed spiders. They held wing chun, short power, and chow gar, shock power, in reserve. The Stargirls gasped at the sight of Lyn cringing on the floor, her
head bowed, holding her arm; feeling relief, they bolted to her; but huge, hairy hands grasped fistfuls of hair, yanking their heads back with neck breaking force, throwing them to the ground. Knees dug sharp into their backs, pinning them to the floor like insects on a spreading board.
Mad shrieked angrily, “Get off, mutants.” Her shrill shout created confusion in their minds, fearing attack; but when she lay still, they eased the numbing pressure off her back. They glanced at their leader for guidance.
Nogaa’s piercing red eyes scowled at his warriors, then at the source of his deplorable defeat. His huge brow furrowed, deep scars lining his brooding face, telling of forgotten battles he had buried. Nevertheless, his commanding presence was an immediate antidote for his warriors’ fears.
His complexion grew dark; his thoughts searched for an answer to the aliens’ aggression. He knew all their lives depended on him delivering them respectfully to his master. Any sign of alien rebellion would send Garlig into a murderous rage that would rain down on all of them. He hastily made a command decision and kneeled down to the alien nearest him. Nogaa grasped the alien’s chin and tilted her drawn face toward him. He gazed into her insolent eyes and grinned while his eyes begged her for understanding. He patted Mad on the head and grimly went to the next alien and repeated his desperate overture. Once he finished soothing them, he bellowed, “Awago, awa daa diwee ki!”
The aliens lifted to their feet; the beasts positioned on each side securing them in arm locks. They staggered forward, feeling mutual misgivings, while the Stargirls considered whether they had misjudged their ruthless captors. Maybe they had more in common with the beasts than met the eye. Maybe they were all prisoners. After all, the massive beast had shown kindness despite their vigorous defense against him. Then again, the beasts’ violence left them guarded.
Garlig’s voice thundered as they entered; the beasts thrust their heads to the floor, making them bow to their master. His deafening laugh and wicked expression smeared on a terrifying face that gripped them. They were ill prepared for what stood before them. Lyn felt repulsion at the incredible sight, a vision of pure horror.
Garlig was Herculean in stature with a crude, warped face and one large glaring eye. His phenomenal body glistened with unnatural beauty; two fearsome tentacles coiled from his upper back, while two massive humanoid arms formed a chilling demonic look. The horrifying tentacles undulated threateningly as razor-sharp teeth protruded from huge suckers. Without warning, the tentacles surged toward them, causing them to step back with fists raised in defense. Jill, sensing the inhuman thing played with them, barked, “Lower your guard.”
Her swift command saved them from vicious attack. She thought, Submission . . . the Way of Sun Tzu . . . the backdoor to valor, given what they faced. Jill commanded, “Kneel,” and they meekly kneeled and prostrated themselves in false worship, thus charming the monster’s ego.
Garlig choked back black bile, letting out a contemptible laugh that appeased his rage. He gloated at his enemies lying face down before him. He felt exhilaration—he, the elixir of death—as his powerful tentacles reached down and coarsely caressed their recoiling bodies, making them shudder. He withdrew his groping tentacles and gave a signal to the beasts to lift them to their feet. He had come close to disobeying Aagaatar’s strict orders to deliver the aliens unharmed to him. Their deaths would have meant his own. His rage returned. His homicidal fantasies displaced onto the Troag leader.
He lashed out, “Nogaa, you coward, you let these frail aliens defeat your guards.” However, what Garlig feared more was the hex the aliens seemed to cast on him. Never had any life form controlled his emotions and desires as they had, bewitching him with their alien beauty, nearly ruining his plans. Maybe he took them too lightly, he thought as his lip curled—torture-time will tell. He relished toying with his new prey as he outlined how he would use them for his conquest of the Vaangeez galaxy. Although he was usurping the Master’s authority, they were unaware of his treachery.
Garlig derisively said, “The ancient prophecy you thought was your destiny is dead. You are not my Master Aagaatar’s worst nightmare. I am yours.” His evil stare bore through them. Infuriated, he shrieked, “Bear witness to your master’s power.” His mighty tentacles lashed out causing piercing thunderclaps, making them drop to their knees and clutch their ears to stop the excruciating ringing. He enjoyed their torment, waiting for them to look up. When they did, he pointed his fearsome tentacle at a strange device. The tentacle swayed hypnotically; suction cups rhythmically opened and closed, baring deadly teeth. The Stargirls mesmerized by the horrifying bizarre spectacle.
He gave a command and a burst of energy from the curious device severed the hideous tentacle. Jill felt a glimmer of hope but before the tentacle hit the floor, an incredible light emanated from the stump and instantly regenerated the tentacle before her bewildered eyes. He haughtily swung the tentacle in the air with a horrendous laugh of victory. Ali blinked her eyes, wondering if what she saw was an illusion, or real. Sade felt revulsion.
Mad whispered, “Oh, no.” All at once, Garlig’s eye opened wide; his bullwhip tentacles wrapped around Nogaa’s two brothers who screeched in anguish as grotesque teeth tore at their flesh, tentacles whipping them high above Garlig’s head.
He laughed, amused by their screams, and flung the youngest brother into a glowing chamber. He gave a ruthless command while his audience of hairy beasts, creepy-crawly things, and Stargirls watched—in fear, indifference, and stark horror.
The beast sprung to his feet, on fire. His skin bubbled. He smashed into the wall, fell, rose, and blindly groped his way around the cage. He grabbed at his melting face, screaming in agony; he hobbled, stumbled, and collapsed, his body shuddered, smoldered, and vaporized. The chamber glimmered in diffuse light. All that remained was a sterile chamber uncluttered by death. The other brother, wailing in terror, struggled to free himself as ravenous teeth dug deeper into his body. Nogaa realized their fate and charged Garlig, who used his free tentacle to ensnare him.
Garlig growled at the Stargirls, “Your master is an unforgiving master. You, my wicked slaves, must obey or die. The lesson you learn today will make you better slaves and help you fulfill your true destiny.”
Garlig tossed the Nogaa’s brother to scurrying creepy crawlers, metal pincers clacked wildly. Lyn’s mind screamed, No! She remembered the searing hot pain of their cold, brutal grip. Thinking they would tear the poor beast apart, she looked away. Garlig had other plans for the beast’s sacrifice.
The beast splayed on a metallic table with menacing lasers designed to amputate limbs if the beast tried to move. The table tilted, forcing them to observe Garlig’s abominable operation. Garlig bellowed, “Let us see what is inside this sinful thing that betrayed me.”
Satan himself, Sade thought; she braced herself. The beast’s screams turned to subdued cries as the first incision of Garlig’s obscene autopsy disemboweled it, and bloody intestines spewed out onto the floor.
Bloodcurdling screams stopped short when the beast, in reflex, lurched upward; cut-off arms landed on the floor with nauseating thumps. The beast reeled from the table on stumps, taking a wobbling step, and fell, in death rattle, at Garlig’s feet.
Garlig’s huge malignant eye reflected the horror etched on the Stargirls’ faces. His bulging eye was a madhouse . . . mirroring their innocence crucified on his altar of terror. He swore, “Aagaa . . .” angry the kill was too quick. He laughed insanely that his insatiable hunger for blood cheated him.
He heard soft cries. Subdued cries that brought his mind back to the aliens. He heard one of them choking back tears. He had set the stage for his ultimate act of trauma, aimed to open the aliens’ minds to his reality. To survive, they would do his bidding or join their captors. After all, what choice did they have?
He laughed—how a quirk of fate delivered them into his hands, an unintended gift from their Star guide who inadvertently led him to them. The Stargirls’ heads hung, trembling uncontrollably, trying to avoid what lay across the room, as a quivering arm groped for life. The sight, let alone the stink of scorched skin, repelled them and made them retch.
Garlig roared, “Raise your eyes in devotion to your master. Turn away from my masterpiece once more and you die. One by one, so the last one can savor the full measure of your deaths.” His threats were groundless given Aagaatar’s orders, yet they had the desired effect. Trickery the sharp tool of terror, he thought. Sweating profusely, they forced themselves to lift their heads in order to live. Jill thought if looks could kill.
“Watch and behold.” He raised Nogaa high above them as tentacles ripped him apart. Nogaa, defiant, refused to cry out; a deathly silence filled the chamber. Jill desperately wanted to turn away and swallowed hard as savage tentacles slammed Nogaa headlong into the floor. His head struck the floor with an explosive thud. White brain matter showered the Stargirls. Garlig’s eye gazed into their horrified faces. He knew his superb performance and traumatic hypnosis cracked more than one head, tossing the lifeless body aside.
“Your lesson for today: killing is the only thing that makes you feel alive.” Then, to test his control over the aliens, he gave a simple command. “Pick pieces of Nogaa’s brain out of your hair and hold them out to me as an offering.” Without hesitation or sign of revulsion, they did as commanded. Detached, expressionless faces understood what they held in their hands—brains, but also their lives. They cried inside while the sound of the beasts’ growls surrounded them.
Garlig rejoiced, contemplating the mind-numbing fear and horror in the aliens’ eyes. He knew that once they consummated the Final Solution, they would be at his mercy, a trophy given to him by Aagaatar for his victory. Then they would serve a higher purpose—his purpose.
Gluttonous thoughts shook him—thoughts of ravaging their bodies, torturing them one by one while the others watched, and then having their heads served to him were almost unbearable.
He groaned with immense pleasure, nothing wasted. Every morsel of flesh devoured. Eyes plucked out and consumed like exotic Jappaa. Ears eaten as if sweet Eluvion spurs while their heads were cracked open and their brains sucked out. Their skulls then crushed and minced with fragrant Raagda, for filling. Their prized skin lightly roasted to wrap the filling in. His favorite crunchy meal was Wasaagaa. A meal for a god, he thought.
Garlig would save their headless, skinned bodies for Feasting Day when he could celebrate his incarnation as Master of the Universe and serve their bodies as hosts. Drool dripped from the gaping hole in his face; his sinister laughter made the Stargirls recoil. Maniacal laughter filled Garlig’s massive head with thoughts of murder, thoughts of killing Aagaatar and ruling the Star people.
The Stargirls knelt in bloody brain matter and their own vomit. They felt weak and poisoned by the disgusting smell of death and Garlig’s hateful words and unspeakable actions. It felt like they had received an electroconvulsive shock, leaving them disoriented as they struggled to gain control of their minds. What disturbed them most was that they felt dead; the total absence of emotion frightened them. They were a mess, numb and in shock, caught in a deadly trap where nothing made sense and escape was impossible.
In the mayhem, Mad angrily shouted, “We’re pawns, nothing but pawns. You—” A grueling blow silenced her, leaving her unconscious on the floor. Garlig ordered the Troags to drag her back to their new cell.
Feeling his almighty power over the aliens, he motioned for the Troags to take them all away. The Stargirls rose and bowed their heads, knowing protest pointless. They wanted to go and take care of Mad.
Mad lay moaning with a nasty welt on her head. Sade said, “How you feeling?”
“Just ducky, what happened?” “You got clobbered.
“Who belted me?”
“Garlig …” The sound of dry heaves in the background made her pause. “… Do you remember what happened?”
“I was telling ugly puss off—” Seeing alarm in Sade’s eyes, she stopped. “Yeah, it was dumb, my big mouth. I could have gotten us all killed.” Sade let out a deep sigh. “You’re okay—that’s all that matters.”
Jill shouted from somewhere. “Hey, there are showers!”
Lyn felt the cleansing warmth of the shower, washing away the horror that painted her body. She wondered how she was supposed to scrub death away as the drain claimed chunks of vomit and brain matter. She obsessively scrubbed and scrubbed; but no matter how hard she scrubbed, the memory of Nogaa’s kindness and horrifying death clung to her, as feelings of guilt tormented her. Feelings that made her feel ugly inside, made her feel ashamed and inhuman. Soft sobs moved her, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Then a convulsion of sobs and jolting waves of grief shook her, hidden beneath the shower’s purifying spray. Lyn gasped for breath crying, “I hate you; I hate you, I hate you,” striking her fist hard against the wall. The overpowering smell of burnt flesh and haunting shrieks and wails of the dead pierced her mind. Lyn wondered whether she could survive Garlig’s torture. She wondered whether she would be strong enough—brave enough—to withstand Garlig’s sadistic pain without
falling into a million broken pieces. Would there be nothing left but a shattered mind that neither she nor her sisters could put back together again? The thought filled her with gloom. She felt herself floating away, leaving Lyn behind in some ghoulish nightmare.
Startled, she felt an arm slip about her shoulder. It was Jill. Her head lovingly touched hers. Jill said soothingly, “Let it out—I know the feeling.” Lyn felt Jill’s strength and cried as her damning thoughts and pent-up emotions released.
Jill said, “We’ll make it together.” Lyn sniffled. “Think so?”
“We will!” A chorus of voices shouted.
Rejuvenated from their shower, they sat in a circle of light, speaking in whispers, not knowing whether their conversation monitored. They were talking about Nogaa and his brothers’ murders. Lyn was surprised how her sisters’ support brought a smile to her aching face. The Troags had slammed her face against a wall for payback. Vengeance meant for Garlig, she thought. Despite their violence, she felt compassion for their suffering. She felt them kindred spirits; that outlook gave her an idea.
“Maybe the beasts can help.”
Mad said, “Those fiends only want to beat us into submission.” “Yes, but out of fear—you saw the penalty of Nogaa’s defeat; but something in the small Troag’s eyes, horror, was apparent and then a flash of anger when Nogaa was killed. I think she is his mate, the one he called Laya. I heard them all growl at his death. Let’s see if Laya will help.”
Sade said, “Maybe, you’re on to something.” “Can you link with her?”
“I can try.”
Sade concentrated on the small beast’s energy-field and breathed with intention. Her surroundings faded. She found herself peering into darkness and then into a graveyard shrouded in yellow mist; enormous gravestones reached toward a gloomy sky. She heard wailing and saw Laya on her knees, beating the soil of Nogaa’s grave.
Sade called out, “Laya, Laya.”
Laya, startled, raised her head, shocked to see an apparition floating above her. “Go demon. Leave me in peace. ”
“Laya, its Sade.” “Sade?”
“Yes, I’m one of the prisoners.”
“How did you find me?” Sade ignored her question.
“We both are Garlig’s slaves, not enemies. Garlig is our adversary; we must defeat. I speak from my heart.
Laya confused by the alien’s truth said, “What do you want? I bury my husband.”
“We are so sorry, but we must help free each other.” Laya was too distraught and angry to accept her apology or offer. Bitterly she said, “What do you know of us. We are Brazons, not Troags—once proud and great warriors. Leave me in peace; I have no use for you. You have done enough harm.”
Sade’s overture rejected; she awoke to anxious questions. “I failed. Laya was too grief-stricken to hear my words. She was dreaming about Nogaa’s burial, blaming us for his death. She called them Brazons, not Troags.” Sade crawled into the protection of their circle and fell into a rueful sleep while they sat glumly, trying to overcome their trauma.
Jill said, “There’s no way around this crap; we have to deal with it.” Ali entreated, “Where do we begin?”
Mad snarled, “Let’s chop off his hellish tentacles. That’s a good start.”
“Yes, but blind rage can only lead to our downfall. We must outsmart him,” Jill implored.
“Yeah, but what a catharsis,” Mad insisted.
Lyn said, “All I know is I am scared like never before. I never knew fear until now. It is paralyzing. How do we conquer the archetype of death? We’ve never faced anything like this, and innocent lives lay dead in our wake.”
Ali in a stirring voice said, “Lyn, you’re right, but our quest did not kill Nogaa—Garlig did. We all feel guilt by association, but we cannot blame ourselves for Garlig’s atrocities. The greater good is at stake here. We did not ask for Garlig’s monstrous life—he inflicted it on us. We must stand united; otherwise, we are lost, and hate and evil will rule us. Regardless of what has happened, our hearts are pure; only Garlig is stained with blood.”
Lyn said, “Ali, you have the heart of a lion and the spirit of an angel.” The Stargirls sat facing each other in their healing circle while Sade slept at its sacred center. Physical closeness and touch were essential to help mend their wounded minds. Being able to touch each other gave them some sense of security and reality.
Jill said, “I’m worried. Garlig boasts we are his slaves.” Ali moaned, “It makes me sick.”
Mad growled, “Sick—it enrages me.”
Lyn said, “He believes nothing can stop him, and we will do his will.”
The thought terrified Ali. “Do you think he can?”
“I think he’ll find a way.” Lyn’s truthful admission alarmed them. Mad said, “You can’t be serious?”
“I wish I weren’t, but his power seems boundless. I am not hopeless but as close as you can come without crossing the line of no return. Once we surrender our will; it is all over. He will do with us as he pleases.”
Jill blurted, “What if he says he will butcher one of us if we don’t do as he commands?”
“Your question goes to the heart of our dilemma,” Lyn said.
Mad, fuming, said, “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I’m not going to let any of you be tortured or killed. Till my dying breath, I will stop him.”
“Your words speak for all of us,” Jill said.
Ali unflinchingly said, “I can accept my own death; faced with your death, I would do whatever Garlig ordered to save you. Forgive me, but what else can we do?”
Jill said. “Focus on his weakness.” “His god complex,” Mad declared.
Lyn said, “Right, pretend to be his slaves to buy us precious time.” Ali said, “But what about his Master Aagaa . . . what is his name?” “Aagaatar—let’s hope Garlig takes us to him before he kills us. We might find a way out.” They felt their soul-searching ease their shame and guilt, giving them hope—hope crushed by spine-chilling laughter and Garlig’s cruel voice. “Torture-time will tell.”
Jill grimaced, obsessing over how they could defeat a Goliath.