[b]The Capital Ship, In the Emperor's Personal Quarters[/b]

"Octo Smith...  Octo Smith...  I have a question to ask of you", a small uppity little body guard around the age of 27 started to spout.  The kid was one of the very distant great many times over grandchildren of the emperor and probably a body guard judging by the olive uniform.  

Someone so young they don't even have wrinkles.  The tan skin, dark hair and green eyes of the kid contrasted with the brass ornamented dark brown wood cabin from Terra itself where the emperor's hulking medical power suit sat slouched on a large leather couch of ancient quality.    

The rustic thing was held together mainly by an anachronism of technologies from over past century and a half, the century old thing the emperor was in still functioning as it always had, still pumping synthetic blood and medigel through plastic tubes that are visible at points in the otherwise dense patchwork of alloys.  

The Emperor's head, bald and wrinkled with his black skin hiding the bulk of his liver spots however is transfixed on a video stream projected from a tiny chip on a large, bulky obsidian shard filled counter.  From which the volumetric, colorful display shows itself.

The emperor, with a bit of delay turns his head towards the little kid and asks "What is it?"

"Oh, I am curious what you are watching." The little one asks.

The emperor looks at the volumetric stream playing on in front of him and sees the various aliens slaughtering each other.  With a bit of delay, he replies "Just the 400th annual Denebian Murderfest.  It is going well, I like the aliens killing each other.  

It's nice to see, the blood they spew is colorful.  My bet is on the ..uh.. Craetek called Stiffy Stabbs, Stiffy Stabbs will win... Stiffy Stabbs always wins."

On the screen, the massive Craetek filled with the blood of numerous mouse-like aliens it had been murdering before tackles a centuaroid that it repeatedly impales as the centuaroid wails in agony and pain from the repeated stabbing, screaming some gibberish.  

"Stiffy Stabbs got it all, no one beats Stiffy Stabbs... no one...  Lots of my friends know... lots of people know, a sure bet always for Stiffy Stabbs."

The Emperor seemingly just forgets about the body guard and starts just cheering and pumping the arms of the medical powersuit in adulation upon seeing his favorite alien murder some more bug species atop of the more humanoid species indiscriminately in the slaughterhouse of an arena it has become.  

Odious amounts of bodies just piled up, sliced and diced, with the large Craetek with most of its appendages in tact just making gestures daring others to come at it, with a Truqik still stuck to one of its stainless steel spears that Stiffy Stabbs unceremoniously shakes off.  

The kiddie body guard felt nauseated at the hyper-realistic stream, as if the smell came through.

"What?  Ate some Kibbu intestines on the way here?" The Emperor, energized asks.

"Oh, it's nothing...  Nothing at all..." The body guard sheepishly replies before saying, "I need to return to my post."

The Emperor just says, "Well get to it...  More Denebian Murderfest is on next...  It is very important business that I watch.  I'd be there in person but that stupid speech made me have to wait around here thousands of light years away from the arena."

The body guard just walks out, relieved to not have to watch more Denebian Slaughterfest.