America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 22: Blue Powder War by Walter Knight

Pawns . Ratings soared. The spider commander and his Intelligentsia officer listened in on our plans. Soon Arthropodan marines surrounded the pawn shop. I pointed the anti-gravity device at the spider troops, but its battery went dead. Murphy’s law strikes again. Damn unlucky Irish.
    “Do you have more batteries?” I asked Old-Claw frantically. “I have no power!”
    “More alien batteries?” scoffed Old-Claw, peering out the window at the Arthropodan armor. “Get real. It sucks to be you.”
    “I won’t die alone,” I threatened, pressing my rifle against his mandibles. “Do you have a tunnel under your shop? A spider hole?”
    “How did you know?” asked Old-Claw, pointing to the stairs.
    “Czerinski, you are under arrest for committing an act of war against the Empire!” blared the spider commander’s voice over a loud speaker. “If you care not for your own malevolent life, think of your insignificant legionnaires! Surrender, and they will be afforded treaty protections granted to all human pestilence terrorists during time of war.”
    “Back off, or I’ll bring down a tornado!” I shouted. “Or maybe even a sharknado!”
    The spider commander quickly checked the Galactic Database for sharknadoes. Sure enough, sharknadoes pummel Los Angeles on Old Earth all the time. “If even one toothy fish drops from the sky, I will not hesitate to blow you away with tactical nukes!” responded the spider commander forcefully. “Do you think I am bluffing, human pestilence punk? Are you feeling lucky? Maybe I have a nuke, maybe I don’t. Make my day!”
    Stalling for time, I left Private Knight to negotiate while I led legionnaires and hostages through the tunnel. “I want pizza and safe passage out, or I’ll kill Old-Claw and his entire family!” demanded Private Knight, a seasoned negotiator. “There will be no Star Pawns , no syndication, no top ten TV ratings!”
    “Bastards!” grumbled the spider commander. “Launch the nuke. No pizza for you!”
     
    * * * * *
     
    The nuke destroyed Star Pawn, and suburbs of North New Gobi City. Depressed about the loss of his pawn shop, and syndication rights, and feeling broke, Old-Claw put the rights to my corpse up for bid on eBay. Bidding was robust, so he put Private Knight’s corpse on the bidding block, too.
    We fled deeper into the catacombs under New Gobi City. My communications pad rang. It was the spider commander, checking to see if I was still alive.
    “Somehow I knew you would still be alive,” said the spider commander cheerfully. “Circumstances have changed. I propose a truce.”
    “You’re no longer trying to kill me?” I asked warily. “I don’t believe you.”
    “You are questioning my credibility? I was just following orders. Now, I have new orders. The Imperial Family has a confidential medical problem that the Emperor himself wants to discuss with Medic Ceausescu. Please put the fair Elena on the line.”
    “Why Ceausescu?”
    “The Emperor was watching Star Pawns before I nuked the dump. He was impressed with the patchwork she did on Little-Claw. I trust Medic Ceausescu is still alive? The Emperor is on the line.”
    “One moment, I’ll check,” I replied, handing my communications pad to Ceausescu with a shrug.
    “Your Majesty?” asked medic Ceausescu tentatively. “I’ve never spoke to royalty before. This is quite an honor. How is Queen Rainbow?”
    “I prefer the Queen not be a part of this conversation,” admonished the Emperor gruffly. “A member of the royal family got an Old Earth invasive pest called a gerbil lodged up his poop-chute.”
    “Oh?”
    “I need you to talk my medical staff through the procedure for removing the beast.”
    “How could this happen?”
    “I do not know. It was a one-in-a-million chance occurrence. I am banning all recreational gerbils from the Empire!”
    “Is the gerbil still alive?” inquired Ceausescu delicately.
    “Yes, it’s very much alive. I can hear it.”
    “Have