They ran.

Glancing behind him, Frakutsk could see the burly gaurds jogging. Their considerable bulk was preventing them from moving at a pace much faster than that of the explorers, but they didn't look like they were going to tire out any time soon.

"Some plansa!" said Frakutsk, very sarcastically, to Frelgrin.

However, the Azgaurds were also large, their long legs made it easier to run, and, thus, Frakutsk decided that they would be fine for a while.

That left only one person with a problem, Frakutsk.

Fortunatly, Frakutsk was a Jedi. And Jedi, as we have seen time and time again, have a neat trick for most situations.

"Justsa keep going." emplored Frakutsk through the force to the Azgaurds.

The Azgaurds gave him confused glances, but Frakutsk ensured them that he would be fine.

The explorers were about to reach a fork in the isle.

They hopped over it and kept going. Soon, they reached a place were the isle split two seperate directions. The one on the left was labled "Gizmos and Gadgets", the other, "Animals."

"Go left! Get the batteries!"

They went left, and Frakutsk went right.

The gaurds were now worried, they didn't know which way to go.

The leader was about to command his troup to split up and follow both parties of explorers.

Frakutsk, begining to pant, waved his hand behind him as he was running. "Yousa want follow me," he said between heave breaths.

"Right!!" shouted the head gaurd. And, obeying like macheines, his followers followed him right.

Still running, Frakutsk fumbled for his lightsaber. He turned it on and then moved to the right of the isle.

Boxes and cages flew by Frakutsk as he ran. He didn't recognise the animals in the cages, but they looked like basic... animals. Fuzzy. Some big. Some small. Frakutsk began slicing and slashing at the cages, letting out all the animals.

The animals rebelled against their opressors.

When the gaurds finnally escaped, they would be very dirty... and it would be a long way home.

The team ran, and ran, and ran, until finally they passed the boarders of the dreaded land of Clothes and Carpeting, and into the dark recesses of Tools and Equipment. With mountains of equipment and shelves like vast castle walls, it was a formidible land, and has long been the home of the Regional Managers, a line of kings who once ruled all of Warmart, now reduced to a squabbling tribe of bickering warlords.

"Enough plot exposition!"

Oh, right. Anyways, the explorers carefully made their way into the forgotten realm, past decrepit lawnmowers and ancient, rusting power drills. They continued like this for some time, until reaching the core of the department, where a huge keep of shelves remained maintained and lively, and guarded by vicious mechanics armed with autofire nailguns.

"Hail, we wish to speak to your King." called up Frelgrin. The two guards seemed to notice them, and waved.

"Leave your weapons at the door" one called back "And we'll let you in!"

"Better do as they say." said Frelgrin, and the team left an assortment of weaponry things there, despite the objections of Freewater who feared for the safety of 'Mr shoots-a-lot'. The only one who remained armed was Fraktusk, who secreted his lightsaber deep in his robe. It was seriously unlikely anyone would want to reach that deep into a Gungan's 'personal space'.

So as they were ushered into the gate, they remained on edge and worried. The guards watched them, hawklike, as they approached the Head Regional Manager.

Sitting upon a throne carved from the rusted remanants of an old SUV, he held court amongst heavily armed followers. Slowly, he adjusted to the arrival of the explorers.

"Um.. hello?"

Frakutsk was admiring the throne of the old King, when finnally the king spoke to them.

"Um... Hello?"

Frakutsk responded quickly, "Greetingsa! We are here on a mission, a quest, to save the lives of millions of yousa kind down on the planet."

"But, like, dude... Whadaya need? We don't got no drugs er nothing. Just these, like, batteries..."

Frakutsk was suprised by the old man's method of speech, and slightly confused by the meaning of his second sentancec for a while. Obviously, this dialect must be an old one. Also Obviously, the man was having a very difficult time speaking, Frakutsk worried for his health.

"Yesa, sir. These batteries, three double-A and one B, will power the giant mechanism that is to fix the tectonic imbalance of the planet."

The old man conidered that. It sounded reasonable. He was going to nod, agree to give them the batteries, and send them on their way. Frakutsk was sure of it. However, something stopped him.

There was alot of grumbling in the court, but one of the Advosze quickly got up and went over to the King. "Sir?" she inquired, but it was far too late.

Regional Manager Hojn Upal was dead.

At age 503, at least he had lead a long and prosperous life.

But there was a problem, who was to be the successor?

Several long weeks of fighting ensued. Frankly, though, this had nothing to do with out heroes.

In the end, the batteries were sent down to the planet by the new king, Ensign. Apperently, the anvil hadn't killed him.

You didn't really think it could have killed him, did you? Its value A did not exceed three-fifth the width of the target, remember?

Ensign had made a heroic recovery. And now, as the Regional Manager of at least a region of Riflor's moon, declared the moon, for it part, a full time memeber of the Coalition.

The batteries saved an entire planet.

And we ignore the fact that Our Heroes had absolutely nothing to do with it. If you don't tell them, neither will I.

The people did rejoice, for the time of strife was over. Ensign, the returned King of Warmart and the General Managers, met in a most felicitous ceremony with the king of Riflor on the newly-restored surface of the planet. People from across the system had come to praise the heroically returned king for rescuing both people from the dark days they were in.

As for our heroes, they were standing off to one side, relegated to unimportant bit-players who, near the end, will be allowed to complete their now-overshadowed task, and then sent home. This irked Frelgrin strangely, for although he was a rational sort, there was something... wrong, about he and the rest of the team not being responsible for heroically saving the day - even if usually it is by accident.

"So..." said Shlump. "I guess we're done here?"

"No, not yet." said Yiffin. "The kings haven't signed the documents yet, and they're not going to do that until the post-ceremony luncheon."

"But... after that, we're done right?"

"Mesa no thinkin' so." said Fraktusk "By mesa count, we still needin' a t'ousand words or so for finishing story-thing."

"Oh..."

"What's going on, anyways?" said Yiffin, irritably.

Frelgrin sighed. "It looks like the king of the Azvosze is giving over some sort of rod-thing to Ensign. I think it symbolizes leadership, or something."

"There sure are a lot of people applauding, and waving flags." noted Shlump "You'd almost think their culture was close to nearly half as good as ours, with the way they go on about it."

"Well, it is the reunification of two long-seperated people, plus their mutual escape of a dark-age of pain and depression, combined with the crowning of a new monarch who was long-prophecised." Said Frelgrin, who sighed again. "Why didn't Ensign just tell us he was the descendant of an ancient line of kings? I mean, I feel so marginalized."

"It could be worse." said Yiffin in a suddenly stiff voice.

"Oh really, how?"

"Freewater could be just about to crown the king."

"Yeah, well - wait, what?"

The group turned, only to see - yes, indeed, Freewater had gone wandering and accidentally taken the place of the Lord Regent, the person who was supposed to crown the new King Ensign. They held their breath in panic as Freewater examined the crown, and Frelgrin nearly died of a heart-attack when Freewater seemed as if he intended to chew it, but in the end Freewater managed to figure out the crown's purpose, and placed it on the head of the new King.

"Er... one nation, rocket's red glare, we stand on guard, God save the king, Waltzing Matilda, with liberty and justice for all."

With that cryptic oath in mind, the crowd and the king slowly repeated after Freewater, who was then gently lead back to the group.

"Well... I guess we did something then." said Frelgrin. They watched as the ceremony wound down, and the officials began to file out of the building "I'm going to go call up the TARGET office, see what to do next. You all stay here, and get the kings to sign the documents - and don't screw it up."

An isle in War-Mart

The hats on the heads of the royal gaurds looked distinctly less poofy, and their clothes looked significantly less clean. They were huffing and bristling at the indignance of it all.

"What gives the lord of that land the right to keep such dirty animals?!"

"My gaurd outfit is ruined for life!"

"I'm sueing!"

"We're a monarchy..."

"Oh, right."

They had been walking for quite some time now. It was indeed fortunate that there was the occasional food isle in this land, or they would have certainly starved to death by now.


A large throne room

Ensign sat on a tall chair of the throne variety, he had a piece of pie infront of him, and was obviously more involved eating it than listening to the complaints of the people who had come to his audiance chamber.

"Great and almighty King Ensign, our people have no bread!" said one of the people.

This perturbed Ensign slightly. People without bread. This could not be allowed to continue. And then, in a flash of brilliance, the answer came to him.

"Let them eat pie!"

The person blinked, and then smiled. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed, and the he walked out of the room.

Ensign nodded wisendly, and then went back to eating his pie. He was getting good at this king thing.


Elsewhere

An odd number popped into Frakutsk's head, 9469. Surely, he could almost count this planet as part of the Coalition. But a little... something... was missing.


Elsewhere

"You FOOL! Have you learned nothing?"

"N-n-n-no, master."

"ITS VALUE, A, MUST EXCEED THREE-FIFTHS THE WIDTH OF THE TARGET! REPEAT!"

"I-i-i-its value, A, must e-e-exceed three-fifths the w-w-width of the t-taget." Repeated the cowering Anvil-Apprentice.

"Now, correct your mistake, or I will be forced to punish you."

"Y-y-yes, master. A-a-anything y-you say, master."


Spaceship

"Waitsa." said Frakutsk, firmly, as he held out his hand.

"Mesa senses a disturbance in desa force. Yousa turn around now... Ensign bes in troublesa."

They made a hard turn, and raced back to Warmart. Reconstruction of the once-fabled Super-Store was already underway, as decaying lamposts were uprooted, and new sprouters were planted in their place. The ship dodged around all sorts of speeders, ships, land vehicles, and more caught in the first gridlock the moon had seen in generations. Finally, dodging over a particularily obstinante old person in a tanker, they landed the ship on the royal docking-bay/employee parking spot.

Pushing past the indignant parking guard, Fraktusk lead the dash with the bemused Azguards in his wake. Leaping with all his force-powered might, he intercepted the Anvil mid-air. Of course, the downside to this is that a large lump of metal is not the sort of thing easily intercepted. However, fortunately, his face-plant managed to nudge the anvil just enough to miss crushing the suprised Ensign, who resolved to acquire anvil-ensurance soon.

Fraktusk crashed to the ground, his face an interesting shade of flat. The Azguards rushed in after him, just as surprised as the Royal guards (who were beginning to realize they just might not make it past their first day). Shlump fell to his knees, cradling Fraktusk's head in his arms.

"Oh woeful day! Surely, he was the greatest amongst us! Why, why must they take him now? Why?"

"Um..." said Fraktusk, who adjusted his mouth to a more not-broken position "Mesa no being dead."

"Oh." said Shlump, who awkwardly let go of his head and backed away. He thought of saying something, but turned it into a throat-clearing noise instead.

"Wait a minute... how did you know?" said Yiffin, peeved at the notion of anyone knowing anything he didn't.

"Mesa have... de Force." said Fraktusk, solemly. "Mesa knows when de dark side of de Force be throwing Anvils on heads, pastin' 'em flat-like."

"Oh... well... I guess that... makes sense." said Yiffin.

"Wait, where'd Freewater go?" asked Frelgrin, filled with the fear that came naturally at the thought of Freewater wandering loose. Everyone looked around, but he was nowhere to be found.

That was because, upon appraising the situation, Freewater pulled out a grappling-hook gun he kept down his pants, and fired a piton into the ceiling above. In record time, he clambered up and swung himself into the hole made by the anvil. By bouncing from ceiling beam to ceiling beam, he reached the top of the roof, only to see the Dark Lord of The Anvil-Makers, the puppet-masters behind the Regional Manager Dynasty. He was trying to escape, only to be tackled by Freewater.

But the villain was more capable then that. Using a reverse dragon sitting-kick, he managed to launch Freewater off and regain his footing. He hurled deadly, posioned knives one after the other at his foe, but Freewater deflected every one with skilful waves of his hands. Out of knives, the Dark Lord panicked and tried to summon a Shadow Anvil, the most foul power at the hands of the Anvil-Makers, to strike his foe from above. The Dark Lord hurled the Anvil, and in a flash of black lighting all was consumed behind a puff of smoke.

Freewater was not that easily bested. He rolled behind the anvil, and hid in the cloud of smoke. As it cleared, the Dark Lord found himself face to face with the pistol barrel, and all his dark power and wisdom was not enough to stop a bolt of super-heated plasma from ripping through his skull. And with that, Freewater was away.

"There he is." said Frelgrin relieved, as he saw Freewater hanging from a rope in the ceiling. "Get down from there before you hurt yourself!"

"Mesa think yous be needin' better roofing." said Fraktusk. Ensign mutely nodded as the party one again filed out.

At last, they were truly on their way. Freewater, who on the outside appeared content to play with a shiny baubel given to him by Shlump, was on the inside patting himself on the back for another top-secret mission well done.