This is Part 9 of a community-written, sci-fi parody serial.
Part 1: Steem Wars: Be There Or Be Square, by
Part 2: Hip to be Square, by
Part 3: I Can See Squarely Now, or Number 2 on Planet 3, by
Part 4: Steemwars - Mission 2 - Part 3 - Thank the Gods for the Red Shirts [COM RD 16], by
part 5: Steem Wars : Swept Away (Part 5 of Mission 2, and COM Round 16 Entry) by
Part 6: Steemwars - Mission 2 - Part 6 - Lost in Spaces - [COM Rd 17] by
Part 7: Steem Wars, Mission 2: Part 7: The Goofy Looking Beings Strike Back! (Comedy Open Mic Rd. 17, Entry 2) by
Part 8: Catfish In Space: COM18 first entry by
Our mission:
As delivered by 
Our crew:
Galacdictator Tangle (@tanglebranch): Character profile here
Underlord Negavader (@negativer): Character profile here
Byepeex Reist-Stoomtrooper Destroyer (@jasonbu): Character profile here
Sixty-Wine (@caleblailmusik): Character profile here
Dr. Barley Whiskeyson (@belemo): Character profile here
Location: Square Planet Somewhere in the Quadrangular Quadrant
Our Ship: The Intangible
Perfector Class War Vessel - Serial Number BYOB-9021-O
Location: The Quadrangular Quadrant
Screeeetch! Something has gone completely wrong.
INT. FROZEN SCENE - LARGE FIREBALL IN BACKGROUND EVERYONE IS FROZEN IN POSITION EXCEPT FOR PEX.
Pex, a large muscular man, turns from the explosion and pumps his fist at his side. He cocks his blaster then drops to his knees playing air guitar.
PEX, PLAYS AIR GUITAR OBLIVIOUS TO DR BARLEY WHISKEYSON AS HE STAGGERS INTO FRAME.
"Are you proud uf yourzelph?"
Pex continues to play air guitar on his blaster, eyes closed in some transcendental euphoria, not hearing the slurred question from Whiskeyson.
Whiskeyson scrunches his face at the lack of a response and reaches for a hefty bar, a piece of debris just lying around. He shrugs then raises the bar and clobbers Pex in the side of the head. The follow-through pulls Whiskeyson's drunk form into a pile on the ground.
"Ouch! What the hell! I was almost done my riff, gawds dang."
Whiskeyson turns over onto his back only to meet Pex's charged blaster barrel pointing at his nose.
"You interrupted my solo scene. How? And what do you want?"
"I shed, are you proud uf yourzelph? You murshdered all those GLBBll's's."
Pex raised a quizzical eyebrow then glanced at the expansive explosion held in situ, the team members frozen on the inferno's backdrop.
Right, my scene is still running. That fireball is so beautiful.
His focus back on the quivering, drunk form under his blaster.
"Murdered, kilt, vapo'd, destroyed, call it what you want. I don't care little man. Um, but we do need to find cover before the scene runs out."
Pex, grabbed the little man by the scruff of his shirt, hoisted him up and over his shoulder. He looked around and spied an alley with a metal door, a hastily scribbled sign on it. He ran over to the door.
It said: Torture in progress. Please check back later. - Paster Grimbley
Hmm, sounds like an OK place, it should provide adequate cover. And the lock's been blasted off. Was I here already?
Pex, took a step back then kicked the door open. He tossed Whiskeyson into the room. The little man landed crumpled, like a rag doll. His landing was softened by the mangled corpses of two purple beings on the floor.
Score.
Pex did a fist pump. He turned and sprinted to the others. He could already feel the heat from the fireball. That could only mean one thing. Time was running out. He was going to have to take all four of them in one trip.
Pex eyed the toaster looking bot. There was a strange appeal to the bot. He wanted to pick it up and caress its polished but dented sides.
"Frak it."
Pex hauled off and punted it to within spitting distance of the door, like a well-placed putt.
That's one
The next one. He smiled. It was her Galactiyuminess.
Going to enjoy this.
He grabbed her by the waist and unceremoniously stuffed her under his arm like a football.
He turned and went to grab Lord Negavader the same way, but paused.
I should leave him to blow up. Oh, oh better yet.
Not consumed by the impending kinetic energy behind them, Pex nonchalantly walked behind Negavader. He slowly worked his hand behind Negavader's weapons belt.
With the biggest shit-eating grin, he levitated Negavader by his tighty-whities.
Oh shit, that's gonna hurt. Sixty-wine next.
With the same arm holding Galactiyuminess he hooked a finger in Sixty-wine's assembly and headed back to the building.
The heat was intensifying as he bounded through the door. He plunked Negavader on the mangled purple corpses. Released Sixty-wine mid-step and hugged her Galactiyuminess in a protective embrace.
The air evacuated the room as the fireball engulfed the entire square quadrant.
It was done. He had saved her Galactiyuminess.
"Yeeeeowwwwww!!! Atomic freaking wedgie. Pex, what the fuck!"
Lord Negavader rolled over not noticing the mess under him and began the uncomfortable process of peeling back the atomic wedgie.
Oh, ya. Saved his ass too.
The Galactiyuminess stepped into the room to peer through the dust a bit dazed but unharmed. Sixty-wine spun up his servos as he stood. A quick system and environmental check, followed by a facepalm.
"Pex! You idiot! We're back in the same place we rescued the package from. You are such a moron. Dammit!"
Pex looked down at his package and pointed to it.
"Huh?"
Sixty-wine pointed to the pile of lumpy clothes on the purple beings.
"Dr. Whiskeyson you dolt."
"Oh."
To be continued...
I'm hoping my fellow compatriots will think about entering the Comedy Open Mic for this round. 
WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW MORE?
STEEM Wars is the brainchild of @gmuxx. It is a community creativity parody project with a sci-fi basis. Read more in the following links:
Join us at The Writers Block on Discord.
A great community of writers there, helping each other get better at what they enjoy doing.