Chapter Two: Horde Hospitality
After
a ride that seemed like it would go on forever, the ship carrying Alluro,
RedEye, and Peekablue landed. The three
of them glanced at one another, worried.
Peekablue had filled them in somewhat on what to expect in the Fright
Zone, as she had been a prisoner there once before, and it did not sound
terribly pleasant from what she described.
Now they were going to find out for themselves, it seemed.
Several
robots came into the room compartment they’d been thrown into and grabbed each
of them roughly. “Walk,” one of them
ordered in a mechanical voice.
“Yes,”
Catra purred as she joined her robots.
“It’s time to show you off to Hordak.”
“Take
them to the throne room, Force Captain Catra?”
“Immediately,”
she answered, and walked to the door, gesturing for them to go through.
“Damned
cats,” RedEye grumbled. “As if
Thunderians weren’t bad enough.”
Catra’s
ears twitched. “What did you say,
prrrrisoner?” she hissed.
Alluro
and Peekablue both tensed, questioning the wisdom of RedEye shooting off his
mouth, even though they mirrored his animosity toward Catra, and in the case of
Alluro, toward felines in general.
“I
said I hate cats,” the darkling growled back.
“The animals, Thunderians, and especially you.”
The
Horde commander let out an unintelligible shriek and drew a whip, lashing
RedEye roughly with it. “You’ll learn to
watch your tongue, slave! Insulting me
or my ancestry is not a wise idea.”
Mantenna
overheard the exchange. “An-nn-ncestry?”
“There
are Thunderians in my bloodline,” Catra informed him. “Panthers, to be precise.”
“Doesn’t
that figure,” Alluro muttered.
His
remark was met by a sharp jab in the lower back from Mantenna’s laser
rifle. “Nnn-no more talking. Move along!”
The
two Horde commanders, the robots, and their prisoners made their way through a
dark, open hallway that appeared to be inside a large fortress. Soon they were brought through a large set of
double doors that opened into a room, at the center of which was a throne atop
a platform. Seated on the platform was a
curious creature that defied classification.
His body was covered nearly head to toe in a dark metal armor that bore
the red bat insignia, which the Lunatacs now assumed was the Horde’s
symbol. He had a white face with wide,
pure red eyes, and pointy white triangular ears. His mouth was wide and contained a row of red
teeth.
At
the foot of his throne was one other, a female figure shrouded entirely in red,
wearing the Horde symbol upon her belt.
She was not standing, but floating, as if in a permanent state of
levitation, and no feet could be seen beneath her long red robe, giving her an
almost wraithlike appearance. Her face
could not be seen from beneath her hood, only two luminescent yellow eyes. The only visible skin on the figure was on
the two sickly green hands, topped with blackened fingernails that protruded
from the long red sleeves of her shroud.
She radiated evil and dark magic in her very essence, and both Alluro
and RedEye were instantly reminded of Mumm-Ra.
They
advanced to the foot of the throne, and the troopers forced the three captives
to their knees in a show of humiliation and submissiveness to the Horde
leader. Catra and Mantenna then stepped
in front of them. “Here are the
prisoners taken from Therril, mighty Hordak,” the Force Captain intoned
sweetly. “The rebel Peekablue and two
unidentified friends.”
Hordak,
the man atop the throne, snorted indifferently.
“Yes, Peekablue, I remember you.
Our personal spy camera into Whispering Woods a while back.”
“I’ll
never work for you again, and even Shadow Weaver can’t make me do it,” she said
defiantly, although her voice was not without a good measure of obvious fear in
it.
“You’re
not worth the effort it would take to enslave your mind again,” the female
figure rasped in a cold and emotionless voice.
“You will rot in a dungeon, if Hordak allows you to live that long.”
“At
least until I determine whether or not there’s a use for you,” Hordak agreed,
before turning his attention to the two Lunatacs. “And who are these two rebels?”
Alluro’s
patience was all but worn out. “I don’t
even know what rebellion you’re talking about.
We’re not involved in any war.”
“We’re
not even from this miserable planet,” RedEye added.
The
sinister female glided toward them for a closer look, fixing her eyes upon them
in a manner that made both Lunatacs uncomfortable. “No, you’re not,” she said in a voice only
slightly louder than a whisper. “You’re
something else. Something thought long
forgotten…”
Alluro
and RedEye frowned, having no idea what she could be talking about. Hordak was not feeling terribly patient
himself. “Shadow Weaver, what are you
talking about, you batty old witch?”
A
barely audible hiss came from the red-clad figure before she answered. “Hordak, I realize you have only spent the
recent years of your life on Etheria, but in your time here have you never
heard of the legends of the ancients?”
Hordak
snorted again. “What do I care about the
ancients? I’m here to conquer and rule
this planet, not tell bedtime stories about it!”
Shadow
Weaver floated between them and extended a green hand to Alluro’s face. “Notice their features. Their coloring, the horns, and the crescent
moon symbols. They are Lunar
Plune-darens.”
Peekablue’s
eyes grew wide with shock. “That’s
impossible! There have been no pure
blooded Lunar Plune-darens on Etheria for generations!”
RedEye
and Alluro exchanged looks again. “We’re
Lunatacs. Lunar Plundarrians,” a
fed up RedEye snarled, heavily accenting the correct pronunciation of their
heritage. “From the Moons of the Planet
Plundarr!”
Shadow
Weaver slid back toward Hordak, satisfied with their confirmation. “See?”
Hordak
was not impressed. “So what?”
“So,
mighty Hordak,” Shadow Weaver hissed, “the Lunar Plune-darens have powers,
strong natural powers. Far in Etheria’s
past, conquerors of their kind came here and established the comparatively
primitive native Etherians of the time into feudal societies that grew and flourished
through newfound technology and magic, with themselves as the rulers. These colonies exist still in some form today
as the kingdoms of Bright Moon, Mystacor, and the
“Ancient
Lunatacs settled this planet?” Alluro whispered aloud, more to himself than to
anyone in particular. It did, however,
explain how Peekablue could have a seer clan medallion. The tradition among his people was old enough
that a conqueror from hundreds of years ago could have possessed one. Peekablue is descended from a psi, he
mused. No wonder she has such powers
as she does.
“Lunatacs,”
Shadow Weaver echoed. “That is the
archaic word for these people in the texts of old,” she confirmed.
“It
is what we call ourselves now, and what we have always been called,” RedEye
challenged.
“Silence!”
snapped Hordak, who then turned to Mantenna.
“I am not impressed with how loose you allow the tongues of your
prisoners to be.” His hand hovered over
a button on the side of his throne.
Mantenna
shrank back and tightened his grip on his laser. “It w-w-won’t happen again m-mm-mighty
Hordak.”
“See
to it that it doesn’t.”
Catra
snapped her whip, landing the tip on RedEye’s back. The darkling winced, but did not outwardly
acknowledge the sting. Meanwhile, Catra
stepped forward and slid a hand along his muscular shoulder blades, teasing and
threatening at the same time. “Rrrowl,
we’ll keep them in line. I would love to
have reason to take them to the discipline cell,” she purred. “Especially this one.”
Hordak
frowned, as if giving the manner consideration, and then faced Shadow
Weaver. “Weaver, what is the significance
of their powers or lineage to you beyond a history lesson? Can their powers be put to use for us?”
“I
do not know enough of their powers yet to determine that… but I will test them
for you if it is your wish, Hordak.”
The
Horde leader nodded. “Do that. In the meantime, take them to the dungeon!”
Mantenna
gestured for the robots to move the prisoners.
The troopers hauled RedEye, Alluro, and Peekablue to their feet and
began shoving them roughly towards another exit. “Rest well in your cells,” Shadow Weaver
hissed with malicious glee. “You will
need all your energy for my testing soon enough.”
* * *
In
the comparative paradise of the Whispering Woods, the two rebels and the four
remaining Lunatacs approached the encampment that was the base of operations
for Etheria’s Great Rebellion. Luna
could not say she was terribly impressed, for such a “Great Rebellion” as that
Bow individual kept calling it, it was not terribly impressive to her,
especially not compared to the force the ones they called The Horde had shown.
Several
others, mostly humanoid like the ones who had assisted them in the village,
approached them as they entered, with the exception of one strange
individual. She was a short, stout
creature with a wide-brimmed red hat that had eye holes in it, through which
she peered at them curiously, and she was followed by what appeared to be a
sentient broom, of all things. “Dearie
my,” she said, noting Bow and Glimmer’s expressions. “What happened? Who are your friends here?”
“Glimmer…
Bow… are you all right?” a blond humanoid woman questioned. A strange creature that could only be
described as a cross between an owl and a butterfly flew over and hovered in
the air behind her. “You look terrible.”
“I
feel terrible,” Bow said, shaking his head.
“The Horde knew we would be there, and they ambushed us.”
“We
think someone tipped them off that we were getting supplies from Therril,”
Glimmer sighed. “Even worse, Peekablue
was in town. The Horde troopers spotted
her and attacked her.”
“And
us,” TugMug interrupted.
Luna
nodded. “Our companion Alluro was
speaking with this Peekablue woman when your Horde troopers opened fire. They found us guilty by association.”
“Dearie,
they’re not our Horde troopers,” the short woman pointed out.
The
blond woman stepped forward. “Allow me
to introduce myself. My name is Adora,
and I’m the leader of this camp. This is
Madame Razz,” she gestured to the short woman, “her companion Broom,” she
indicated the sentient broom, who waved, “and Kowl,” she pointed to the flying
creature. And it seems you’ve already
met Bow and Glimmer.”
Luna
prodded Amok. “I am called Luna, and my
mount is Amok.”
Chilla
nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m Chilla.”
Bow
flashed the icewalker a charming smile. “So
I finally get to hear the name of my damsel in distress.”
Chilla
narrowed her eyes and exhaled a thin stream of frost. “I’m no one’s distressed waif.”
Adora
giggled. “Very independent, I admire
that. We need all the strong,
independent fighters we can get nowadays.”
She turned to TugMug. “And you
are?”
TugMug,
whose height was nearly equal to Adora’s breasts, gave a leer at the woman in
her tight outfit. “I’m in heaven,” he
said with a lewd grin.
Luna
did not find his wisecrack as amusing, and gave him a swift whack on the head
with a riding crop. “TugMug…” she
intoned, the warning note in her voice crystal clear.
The
graviton grumbled. “I’m TugMug,” he
said, bouncing slightly. “I’m a Lunatac
from the Moons of Plundarr.”
Glimmer,
Kowl, Madame Razz, and Bow were visibly shocked. “You’re from where?” a stunned Glimmer asked.
“The
Moons of Plundarr,” an irritated Luna repeated.
“Dearie
my, that is a surprising turn of events,” Madame Razz mused. “There haven’t been any pure-blooded Lunar
Plune-darens on Etheria in a long, long time.”
A
puzzled expression crossed Adora’s features.
“What do you mean, Madame Razz?”
Kowl
fluttered forward. “Hoo, well, I suppose
you wouldn’t know this having spent so long being with the Horde, but their kind
played a key role in Etherian history.
Their kind came here long ago and settled a number of the civilized
places of Etheria. Most Etherians are
distantly related to them somewhere or another along the line. It’s thought that’s where so many Etherians
got their unusual powers.”
Glimmer
nodded. “Yes, Castle Bright Moon has a
lot of old books that mention that. My
mother used to read me stories and legends from them when I was a little girl. There were several clans of these Lunar
Plune-darens and they settled in different areas. Bright Moon was established by a clan from a
moon with little or no light naturally, and they had the ability to see in the
dark. Some could also manipulate light,
like I can.”
“Darklings,”
Luna stated. “Interesting. I never heard mention of this world before we
came here, though. Did they not leave or
tell their own people about this world?
It seems odd that I never would have heard of it, if it was once a
Lunatac colony.”
Madame
Razz shrugged. “It’s hard to say, dearie. The last full-blooded types of your kind died
centuries ago. But as I understand it,
most of them were content to stay here, otherwise why would they have built so
much or established families here?”
“The
Royals of the Third Moon were always nosy and strict,” Chilla pointed out to
Luna. “Maybe they wanted to stay
somewhere out of their reign and rule themselves.”
Luna
bristled, being descended from a branch of the Lunar Royal Family herself, she
did not care for Chilla’s insulting tone.
“It’s possible, this world is far enough away from the Moons that they
would likely not have cared much about it unless it had a resource to offer
them.”
“Either
way, we should continue this discussion later,” Bow interrupted. “As much as I’d be interested in hearing more
about you—” he cast a sidelong glance at Chilla— “we have a larger concern
right now.”
“Yes,”
Adora nodded. “Like rescuing Peekablue
and their friends.”
“Right,”
Bow agreed. “But it’s going to be a big
job. We may want to get as many of the
others as we can to help us.”
“Frosta
should be called,” Glimmer suggested.
“Maybe my mother, too, if she can come.
And Castaspella.”
“Maybe
She-Ra should come as well,” Madame Razz suggested, giving a pointed look to
Adora.
Kowl
hovered lower, before settling on Bow’s shoulder. “We don’t want to bring too many people at
once, and risk them all. But the others
should be at least contacted and alerted.”
“Right,”
Adora said, nodding her head. “I’ll get
Spirit and find She-Ra. Kowl, you and
Bow do what you can to notify Frosta and Castaspella. Glimmer, head back to Castle Bright Moon and
notify Queen Angella.”
Chilla
frowned. “What about us?”
Madame
Razz smiled, and gestured to a log by the campfire. “Get comfortable and have a cup of tea. It’s going to be a long night.”
* * *
Alluro
slouched miserably against the wall off his dark, tiny cell deep in the bowels
of the Fright Zone. The place was aptly
named, especially the section he was in, where the signs of cruel torture,
neglect, and general filth were everywhere around. It made his past prison of Way Out Back look
like a paradise, and that was saying quite a bit. Had he been asked, he dared say that not even
Skytomb’s dark and cramped dungeons were as inhospitable as that, although if the
truth would be told it would be a very close contest.
He
had been separated from RedEye and Peekablue almost right away, which did not
honestly surprise him, given that one of the stupidest things one could do would
be to house prisoners together that would likely conspire to escape. Although he was not a compassionate type by
any means, he hoped that RedEye and Peekablue were in as good shape as he. He knew RedEye could handle himself, but he
had picked up on a rather malicious interest from Catra in the darkling, and he
had not had the chance to gauge what she was capable of yet. As for Peekablue, well, she was nice he
supposed, and that was going to make her a very tempting victim for any Horde
member that got a kick out of torturing the weak and helpless.
The
hypnotist was jolted out of his thoughts when the heavy iron door to his cell
opened. Instinctively he got to his feet
to see if it was a chance to escape, but that hope was quickly squelched when
he saw three of the robotic troopers, all armed, standing outside as well as
others posted in the hallway by the exits.
“Shadow Weaver has sent for you, prisoner,” one of them said, while the
other two reached in to grab him. He
tried to wrench out of the way, more as an act of defiance rather than an
actual expectation that he might not be caught, but they secured him quickly
and dragged him out. The third robot
attached a set of shackles to his arms and another to his legs, and indicated
for the other two to move him. He felt a
rough shove to his back, and he stumbled forward, awkwardly walking in the
heavy chains.
They
led him out of the dungeon proper and down several twisty hallways. His legs burned under the weight of the
shackles after walking in them long enough, and he felt sharp stabs of pain
from the fatigued muscles as they forced him up a winding staircase. They ushered him down another hall that
dead-ended in a tall door decorated with designs of demons and skulls. No one had to tell him that he stood before
Shadow Weaver’s quarters.
As
they approached the door, it swung open of its own accord, revealing a room
that could be best described as a cross between a library and a
laboratory. There was a large slab with
built in shackles that he realized ominously was his destination, and several
shelves filled with bottles, vials, and containers. A bench held a few books, some open to marked
pages, scrolls, and more vials and potions.
Shadow Weaver herself glided from the bench toward the table. “Welcome to Horror Hall, Lunatac,” she hissed
in a wickedly gleeful greeting.
“What
do you want of me?” he questioned, still managing to portray an air of
arrogance despite his humiliating position.
“In
due time,” she rasped in reply. The
witch glided to the table and laid a green hand upon it. “Troopers, secure him here, and then leave
us.”
The
troopers nodded in acknowledgment and dragged Alluro to the table. He struggled as they picked him up, even
though he knew it was futile, and winced as heavy metal hands pressed him
against the cold stone slab. Two of the
troopers aligned themselves on opposite sides of the table, each getting a firm
grasp on an arm, while the third released the cuffs he wore and affixed him to
the shackles contained on the table.
Once his arms were secured, they went for his legs, and finally brought
out heavy metallic collar that they snapped around his neck. It had a slight vibration to it, and it also
appeared to have a magnetic property that drew it to rest against the table,
making struggling difficult for him.
Once
the troopers were satisfied that he was secure, they nodded to Shadow Weaver,
and marched out. The door slid shut
behind them of its own accord.
Shadow
Weaver approached his head and eyed him intently. “It is an honor to have this chance to test
my powers against one of the ancient race.
I’ve done some research of your kind, what there is available in the
Etherian tomes I have access to. I can
see you are a psi, and you bear the mark of a seer. Much like your weak little companion,
Peekablue.” She motioned with her hand
and a coil of shadows formed around it.
“What is your name, Lunatac?”
Alluro
scowled at her. “Interrogating me will
do you no good.”
“Interrogating? Such accusations, and I was merely being
friendly,” she hissed, and flicked the shadows toward his torso. The living smoke circled around him and
tightened unpleasantly. “I will get what
information I need one way or another, be assured of that. Now I ask again, what is your name?”
The
coils tightened further and he muttered a Lunar Plundarrian curse at the
wraithlike woman. “I will tell you
nothing.”
Shadow
Weaver scowled beneath her hood, and tossed a second coil of shadows toward his
face. The poisonous smoke wove its way around
his nose and around his neck, just above the collar. It drew tight around his neck, forcing him to
swallow instinctively as if to test that his air passages were still open, and
the stifling odor of must and decay filled his nose. “Continue to defy me and you will force me to
rend your mind. I’m sure no psi would
enjoy that, now would you?”
She
held up his psyche club, just above his face so he could see it. “Our guards took this from you. I’ve spent some time studying it. It is strongly attuned to your aura, and
glows slightly in your presence. It is
your focusing item, is it not?”
He
said nothing, but when he saw his club he had a spark of hope. He also realized that for the first time
since he had been taken captive, he was alone without robots. Perhaps if he could somehow thrall his
captor…
“It
is useless to you,” he stated, not taking his eyes off it. He mustered up as much strength as he could
beneath the oppressive shadows and the shackles, and summoned his most charming
voice. “In fact, it would be best if you just returned it to me now.”
Shadow
Weaver paused for a moment, and then a dark chuckle that escalated quickly into
a cruel laugh escaped her. “So my
suspicions were right. You are a
mesmerizer.” She fingered the orb on his
club delicately. “I had wondered if that
might be your ability when I saw this type of crystal affixed to it. You likely know as well as I that it can
create a soothing beam that might serve to relax and enhance the suggestibility
of a subject while amplifying power at the same time.” She smoothed her hand across it again. “A rather ingenious design, really.”
She
then tossed the club somewhere out of Alluro’s line of sight. “Unfortunately your hypnotic powers will be
all but useless against me, as I’m sure they are against anyone who also
possesses them. You know that as well, I
can tell—I see it in your eyes.”
Alluro’s
hopes at an easy escape diminished quickly as she spoke. He involuntarily twitched to back away as she
leaned in close above him, but between the shackles and the shadow coils he was
all but immobilized on the table. The
ones about his neck and face had disbursed enough that they cradled his head so
that it could not even move. “If you
know my power then what more do you want of me?” he asked, short of breath from
the crushing coil that had worked its way around his chest as well as his
abdomen.
“I
want to know all about you, my distant brother,” she hissed in reply. “For Hordak’s information as well as my
own. You see, I was once an Etherian
like your friend Peekablue… from Mystacor… the area settled by your people.”
“I
am no brother of yours, witch.”
“Perhaps
not,” she rasped coldly. “You are more
my slave, now.”
The
Lunatac beneath her winced as she brought her hands together and began
chanting. A ball of dark mist formed at
her fingertips and enveloped him. It was
not as crushing as the coils of shadow, but instead sickly sweet and
suffocating. It clouded his eyes and
filled his lungs, quickly bringing a strange lightheaded sensation to his
body. The visible form above him became
ripply and seemed to change into something else altogether, the pleasing shape
of a beautiful psi woman with flowing hair and an outfit that only enhanced her
beauty further. A part of his
consciousness recognized it as a psychic trick, a way to lull him into giving
whatever information she wanted, but that voice was silenced as she leaned in
close to him.
“Tell
me your name,” she cooed sweetly, running a hand down his chest, easing the
tension of the shadow coils enough to allow him to breathe normally. “Tell me of your friends, and the
rebels.”
She
sat beside him now, leaning close. Her
dress was tight and low cut, and more than a hint of her ample bosom spilled
out of it, inches away from him, intent on appealing to any aspect of him that
might weaken his resolve. Her other hand
slid up his neck, and her fingers snaked behind his head gently, in a velvet
touch, holding back the oppressive shadows there. He moved instinctively, but he could not
escape her demure, yet insistent gaze.
Luminous eyes met his with a gentle and flirtatious expression. “Tell me,” she whispered, leaning closer now. “Tell me what I want and I will ease all of
your pain. Tell me and I will make you
very, very happy.”
The
phantom lips brushed against his, but they did not feel ethereal in the
least. They were warm, gentle, and
wanting. He knew it was a trick, and a
cold feeling of dread enveloped him as his fume intoxicated body filled the
desires his mind wanted desperately to resist, but it was too late. When his lips locked with those of the
phantom psi, a shock like that of an electric force gripped him. Sharp, tearing sensations filled his mind as
the relentless psychic probe of Shadow Weaver assaulted his consciousness.
He
struggled helplessly as Shadow Weaver acquainted herself with his memories and
intimate knowledge. She witnessed his
memory of the humiliating defeats at the hands of Mumm-Ra, the Thundercats, and
his recent imprisonment on the Circus Train.
She delved deeper and probed his childhood and adolescence, savoring the
memories involving pain or humiliation.
Then she moved on to the later years, relishing memories such as the
times Chilla would rebuff his flirtatious advances, or the demoralizing ways
Luna had treated him, especially instances when she had Amok knock him down a
peg or two, and most recently his uncharacteristic concern for Peekablue. She took a wicked joy in bringing his
weaknesses to light in front of him, and then delved deeper.
This
time she attacked his mind proper, and not just his emotional memories. She sought out and found his center of
knowledge and education, which was quite considerable, and gained much insight
and information on the Lunatacs themselves and their society. She was disappointed to realize he knew
little of the Etherians or the rebellion, but it did not deter her from
pressing on further. He let out a pained
scream as she forced herself into the mental reserve that held his innate psi
powers. She analyzed his hypnotic
abilities and learned that they were drawn from a low level of empathic
abilities that allowed him to sense what the victim was feeling and then
subsequently manipulate them. She became
familiar with how and when he used these powers and why, and when she was
satisfied with that she assessed their strength. And then, finally, she probed into his darker
fears.
This
final attack proved too much for the hypnotist, who screamed in agony as she
violated the corner of his mind he most certainly did not want anyone, ever,
poking into. In a reflexive adrenaline
reaction he somehow managed to gather up enough of his own will, despite his
drugged state, and thrust her out with quick and desperate force. Shadow Weaver had not anticipated that much
of a reserve of power or strength of will and was jolted out, but not before
most of her damage had been done.
Back
in her own body once again, the dark witch drew her scaly lips from that of the
now unconscious Alluro and smiled cruelly beneath her hood. “You have strong power, Lunatac Alluro,” she
whispered. “I will enjoy rending you
again when your strength returns.”
She
stood up and waved her fingers, causing the doors to open once more. The three robotic troopers, waiting outside
since their dismissal, approached. “I am
done with this one,” she rasped to them.
“Take him back to his cell now, and be ready when I call for the next
one.”
* * *
Alluro
was not the only Lunatac in the Fright Zone suffering. Much in the same way he had been hauled from
his cell earlier, RedEye had been forcibly removed in a similar fashion, only
his tormentor was not the witch Shadow Weaver, but the cold-hearted vixen called
Catra. Unlike Shadow Weaver’s more
hands-off approach to interrogation, Catra’s was very physical. She’d had the robots affix RedEye in shackles
similar to the ones Alluro had been forced to wear as he walked, but she
surveyed the procedure personally, and cracked him with a whip when he moved
too slowly. His pale skin already had
several welts courtesy of Catra’s whip, and given the mean sparkle in her eye
when she looked them over, it was clear she intended to give him plenty more.
“Where
are you taking me?” the darkling demanded.
He was
answered with another crack of the whip.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” she mewled irritably. They rounded a corner and stopped before a
heavy security door. A mean smile
crossed her lips as she strode in front of him and brushed her fingers against
his face. “And if you’re a good boy, you
may even enjoy yourself.”
RedEye
scowled at her as she turned around and punched a code on the keypad. “I doubt that,” he muttered.
Catra’s
ears twitched, and she gave him a dark look. “We’ll see.”
The
door slid open, and RedEye heard a muffled cry from inside. As he craned his neck to see who it was—the
heat signature was too ambiguous for him to make a guess—he noticed Catra’s
expression change to one of annoyance.
“Grizzlor,” she growled, “I had reserrrrved this room for this time, I
believe.”
“The
door doesn’t have your name on it,” a sneering, feral voice replied, sounding
equally annoyed.
The
other voice cried out again, this time for help. RedEye could tell it was that of a female,
and she sounded very distressed. The cry
was met with what sounded like a heavy smack against flesh. “Silence, bitch,” the one called Grizzlor
snarled.
Catra
was impassive to the woman’s cries, her only concern being that the room she
wanted was taken, and that did not please her.
“I suppose I will have to make do in the torture room, then,” she
hissed.
“You’ll
manage, Catra,” the beast man retorted.
“Besides, this one was too weak for the devices there.”
“Hordak
will hear about this,” the raven-haired woman snapped, and turned on her
heels.
The
robots followed her, allowing RedEye to peer into the room just before the
security door slid shut. The sight that
greeted his eyes was one he would not forget for some time. He recognized the woman as Peekablue, the one
who had been captured with them. She had
been stripped bare and beaten, her body covered in gashes and marks made from
the cruel lash of a whip. Her tail
feathers were ruffled, tattered, and somewhat sparse in parts, which made him
wonder if they had tried to pluck her.
She was suspended by the arms from heavy shackles in the center of the
room, while her feet wore heavily weighted cuffs that attached with loose
chains to the floor.
The
one Catra addressed as Grizzlor was a disgusting fur covered beast-man, one
that reminded him of some sort of throwback simian mutant. He had a rough hold on the woman. He held one large clawed hand clenched around
her throat, and by the way he had her legs forced open and the sound of her
screams, it was all too clear in what manner he had chosen to violate her.
He
turned away, facing the floor as the door slid shut. He could not say the sight surprised him, but
it did disgust him, especially because he knew he could very well be next. Perhaps he would not be as easy to break as
Peekablue had been, but they would certainly try. After all, he knew how individuals like them
operated. He could not in all honesty
claim that he or his companions had been much different on Third Earth or on
the Moons. Torture was torture, after
all.
They
arrived at another door further down the hallway, and the aggravated Catra
entered another security code. She found
that room dark, and switched on the light.
It was empty. “In here,” she
ordered the robots.
The
troopers hauled RedEye into the room, which was filled with tables, devices,
and implements that could only have one purpose. Inflicting pain and forcing submission. “Excellent,” Catra purred. “This will do nicely.”
She
went over to a wall that held shackles of varying sizes and motioned for him to
be brought over. The robots forced him
toward her, while she looked back and forth from the wall to him, evaluating
the ones that were optimal for his size.
Finally she settled upon one of the sets and pointed. “Secure him therrrre.”
The
metallic Hordesmen did as they were ordered and shoved RedEye roughly into the
wall. One of the robots held the
struggling Lunatac in place while the others snapped the heavy cuffs closed on
him. Catra retrieved the key from a
cabinet on the wall and locked them securely, and quickly returned it so it
would remain well out of his reach. “You
are dismissed,” she stated to the troopers authoritatively, who heeded their
mistress’ word and vacated the room. The
door slid shut, and Catra entered a code to lock it behind her from her side.
“Not
that I am concerrrned you’ll escape,” she said as she approached him
again. “But it never hurts to be
careful, rowr. And I would hate for our
thrills to be interrupted.”
RedEye
scowled, his expression covering a rising sensation of fear within him. “Thrills?” he snarled. “I will give you no such pleasure.”
Catra
dug her fingernails deeply into his light-colored flesh, causing an ugly mark
that drew a bubble of blood to the surface.
“If I say so, you will give me all the pleasure I want… either
voluntarily or through your screams of pain.
Either way, I get what I want,” she said with mock sweetness.
She
drew a barbed whip, stronger than the one she carried, from a nearby hook on
the wall. “But first, business before
pleasure,” she mewed. The Force Captain
drew back the whip and brought it down hard against his shoulder. “What is your name?”
The
dark-dweller remained silent.
A
second blow, harder than the first, came, and drew blood from the flesh it
touched. “Your name, slave.”
When
no answer was forthcoming again, he felt three quick lashes, all against his
torso. He grunted in pain but remained
silent.
“You
have a tolerance to pain, I see,” she said.
“Let’s see how tolerant you are.”
She
drew back the whip and lashed him brutally for several minutes. He writhed under the repeated blows and did
his best not to give her the satisfaction of seeing his pain, but it grew
increasingly harder with each stroke. She
was clearly practiced with a whip, and had hit him with enough force and often
enough to shred his skin raw and smear his legs and his entire midsection in
his blood. Finally, he choked out his
name, just to get her to stop for a moment so he could breathe. “RedEye,” he gasped resentfully. “My name is RedEye.”
Catra
set the whip aside. “There now, that
wasn’t very hard, now was it RedEye dear?”
She moved closer to him and traced his wounds with her fingertip. The wounds were fresh and it made him wince
to have them probed.
“Don’t…
touch… me…” he breathed angrily.
The
feline woman’s face resumed its displeased scowl, and she drew her knee up
sharply to his gut, making him lurch forward in his chains. “You’re in no position to give me orders, slave,”
she snarled. “In fact, I think you need
some humbling.”
She
walked over to a nearby bench and selected a knife off of the rack that sat
atop it. The Lunatac eyed her warily as
she drew close to him, and she pressed the blade flat against his skin near his
belly. “You’re already cut badly here,
rowr,” she observed. “It would be a
shame if I slipped and cut you further.
If you’re smart, you’ll stay very still.
Horde medical personnel are rather brutal at giving stitches.”
Although
every bit of his psyche wanted to defy the sadistic woman, he remained still
with the blade near him. He watched,
worried and horrified at the same time, as she slid it down his abdomen to just
above his crotch. He prayed fervently to
whatever gods would listen that she would not cut anything lower with it. He still was not sure if they had listened
when he noted the vicious sparkle in her eye as her wrist tensed, and she drew
the blade down sharply. But it seemed
that particular torture would be something he was spared, as her cut only
sliced his shorts off instead. The black
fabric fell to the floor, leaving him humiliatingly exposed to her.
She
raised her eyebrows and grinned appreciatively.
“Not bad, especially for a man not yet aroused,” she stated. “If Hordak can’t find a use for your powers,
I can find at least one use for you.”
“And
I will never provide it,” he growled.
“As I said earlier, you will get no pleasure from me.”
“Oh,
I don’t know about that,” Catra purred.
She went back to the bench that held the smaller devices of torture and
traded her knife for a small rectangular device that had two metal nodes on one
end. “I don’t really need your consent,
if I want you, RedEye. The beauty of
Horde technology is that we can use electricity to stimulate an uncooperative
body.”
RedEye
shrank back slightly at the mention of electricity in conjunction with his male
anatomy. He used electrical charges in
his own powers, and he knew very well how destructive it could be. He did not want to think about the damage it
could do to that part of him.
Catra
picked up on his nervousness and grinned maliciously, clearly pleased. She formed a mock pout and smoothed her hands
over her own curvaceous body. “But,
rowr, perhaps we won’t have to resort to such measures if you’ll cooperate and
tell me what it is you powers do. Then
we can get on to the fun.” She allowed
her fingers to linger on one of her breasts, teasing it in a way she knew men
generally found pleasing to watch. She
stepped closer to him, noting that his eyes followed her, and slid her hand
down her red outfit until it stopped just above where it crossed between her
legs. Catra then turned abruptly away
from him and unzipped her suit, to allow him the full view of her backside as
the zipper exposed it and it fell to the floor.
She turned around, clad only in her boots, and even RedEye had to admit
that despite her vicious manner, she was beautiful.
However,
the darkling was far too angry at the woman to be particularly interested in
her wiles, regardless of how attractive she might be. “Perhaps the individual eavesdropping behind
the door would be a better one to show yourself off to,” he rasped
defiantly. “You have nothing of interest
to me.”
“Insolent
liar,” she spat venomously, and jabbed the electric shock device into his
side. A violent shock coursed through
his body, causing him to wince in pain.
Catra
stormed to the door and thrust it open, determined to call the Lunatac on his
lie, but to her shock found a very surprised Mantenna lose his balance and
stumble in.
The
alien’s eyes bulged out on their antennae and a lewd smirk crossed his
mouth. “You’re lookinn-nng very tasty,
Catra!”
The
cat woman let out an infuriated screech and aimed her tazer at the other Horde
commander. “What is the meaning of your
spying on me?” she demanded.
“I
only cam-mme to see how the interrogation was going,” he babbled, backing away
from the device, but leering at her breasts, which bounced ever so slightly as
she moved. “Hordak was inter-rr-ested. I think I’ll tell him to turn on the video
feed now, though.” The four-legged alien
let out a mean laugh as he headed for the door.
Catra
hissed again. “Let Horrrdak watch,” she
snarled back. “It’s the best show he’ll
have in a long time, rowr, and better than a worm like you will ever have.”
“I
won’t complain, even if you do only have human-nn-noid capabilities,” Mantenna
sneered, and scurried out of the room.
The
feline woman locked the door once more and strode back over to RedEye. “You knew he was there,” she hissed. “So that is your power, your eyes?”
RedEye
did not answer, only eyed her impassively and berated himself mentally for
giving her that much information, even if it did give him the pleasure of
seeing her get a dose of humbling.
“You
can see beyond walls, then. Perrrhaps
even the invisible. Hordak may fight
that very useful.” A seductive note
crept back into her voice, and she brushed against him suggestively. It annoyed her somewhat that Hordak and
Mantenna might actually watch her have her way with the Lunatac, but it would
also serve to humiliate him in front of the Horde leader, which would make it
worth it.
The
dark-dweller did his best to ignore her advances, but when he felt her soft
skin against his, followed with a soft feline purr, he found it hard not to
relax. He remained resentful and that in
and of itself was enough to prevent him from getting any true arousal from her
attentions, but the pain from his wounds was throbbing enough that a
distraction was welcome.
She
rubbed against his side, avoiding the areas she had beaten raw earlier, and
pressed her bare breasts against the side of his chest. Her hands found their way to his manhood,
which she toyed with gently, before pressing the tazer into it. He felt a jolt through the most sensitive
part of his body, but oddly enough it did not hurt, only numbed it
slightly. Unfortunately it also had the
side effect of drawing blood flow to the area and soon he stood as erect as he
would have been if Chilla herself were giving him a nude lap dance.
Catra
smiled smugly and knelt in front of him, bringing her mouth to the stiff member
only long enough to tease it. He closed
his eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the sensations of pleasure. If he’d had a resolve not to show pain
earlier, it was double to not show this woman any pleasure he might be getting
from the forced act.
Once
she had given him enough attentions below to flush his face with a combination
of humiliation and arousal, she circled her arms around his broad shoulders and
drew her entire body on top of him. She
snaked her legs around his waist, smearing them in the blood she had drawn
earlier, and forced herself upon his erection.
RedEye
groaned, more out of disgust than lust, but it had the effect of exciting her
further nonetheless. She bucked up and
down as she took pleasure with him, moaning like a cat in heat—which, he mused,
she could very well have been. As her
own arousal grew, she used the inertia of her body against his to slam his
torso against the wall hard enough that it would bounce, causing an involuntary
thrust. And, as much as he was fighting
it, his own body was betraying him as the pleasurable sensations increased.
He
could feel her nipping at his neck, and his hatred and resentment of the woman
boiled. He writhed beneath her, trying
to force her off, but she only tightened her grasp and bucked with his
movements, finding his resistance pleasurable.
“And you said I would get no pleasure from you,” she mewled breathlessly. “Not only am I, but I think Hordak and
Mantenna are too.” With that, she forced
a kiss on him along with the thrusting.
RedEye
wrenched his head out of her grip. “The
only one delusional and depraved enough to enjoy this is you,” he spat.
The
insult spurred Catra to ride him harder, and dig in her claws. “You will regret that remark,” she hissed
ferally. Her anger fed her lust, and
this time when she brought her mouth to his she bit his tongue and lips, a
nasty surprise that made him cry out in pain.
She rode him roughly for another minute or two, until her lusty desire
peaked and she orgasmed. She cried her
pleasure at the top of her lungs, more out of a show to embarrass him and let
the entire Fright Zone know she’d had her way with him than actual feeling, and
withdrew from him. Then, just so that he
would not get out of the situation without a further dose of humbling, she
brought the tazer to his manhood and gave another shock, this one more powerful
than the last.
The
jolt to his system made RedEye scream in incredible pain, and caused the organ
itself to spasm and spill his seed over the floor. “Your body betrays you,” she sneered. “And now you can spend the next week nursing
a burn for your insolence.”
She
slipped back into her clothing and called the troopers back in. “Take this wretch back to his cell,” she
snarled. “And make sure he’s plenty
uncomfortable.”
* * *
As
the hour grew later and the skies gave way to darkness, the rebel camp within
the Whispering Woods grew busier.
Preparations were being made as quickly as possible for the raid on the
Fright Zone, and those already assembled there were gathered in the
center. A large bonfire cast an eerie
glow in the clearing where so many were gathered, and on one of the logs that
served as a bench nearest it sat Madame Razz and Luna, with Amok dozing off at
his mistress’ side.
The
tiny lunar woman was sipping at a cup of tea, brewed by Madame Razz herself
upon request. Luna always liked teas,
and she was pleased that the backwards Etherians had something suitable that
passed for it. She hadn’t had a decent
cup of tea since she had been stranded on Way Out Back. “So what is this ‘Great Rebellion’ all about,
anyway?” Luna questioned Madame Razz.
“Well
Luna dearie, it’s us against the Horde.
The Horde came to our planet years ago and decided to take it over and
make it part of their empire. We
Etherians didn’t really have the means to stand up against such an attack, and
the Horde got a foothold before we could do much about it.”
“Did
your people not fight back?” Luna asked incredulously. She found it hard to imagine that any peoples
with Lunatac blood in them would simply stand by and be enslaved. Such meekness was simply not in their nature.
Madame
Razz sipped at her tea and stared into the flames of the bonfire. “We tried,” she said softly. “But it didn’t do much good. The Horde planned very well, and destroyed
our cities quickly. The Etherian peoples
were divided as it was into many kingdoms, some at odds with one another, and
the Horde invaded and picked them off one by one.” She turned to face Luna, her eyes filled with
sadness as she recounted the history.
“It happened so fast, in a matter of weeks it was over. Many of the kingdom leaders were killed or
taken prisoner, while others simply sold out their neighbors to the Horde to
ensure their own survival. Empress
Frosta of the Snow Lands and Queen Angella of Bright Moon were pretty much the
only leaders who were spared, aside from Castaspella of Mystacor, who was in
exile herself from a coup staged by one of her own traitorous citizens at the
time.”
“And
the Rebellion?”
“Once
it became clear that the Horde would destroy everything on the planet that we
held dear, some of us decided that we had to look past our fear of them and do
what we could—as futile as it might be—to fight them. Slowly, over time, our ranks grew as more and
more Etherians grew tired of the choke hold the Horde has on our world. From the efforts of those people, the Great
Rebellion was born.”
“I
see,” Luna said, setting her now empty cup down. “And it would seem that my crew has
unwittingly become embroiled in this mess.”
Madame
Razz shrugged. “Unfortunately. But you know, dearie, maybe it’s fate. Once upon a time, the coming of Lunar
Plune-darens was among the best things that ever happened to Etheria. Perhaps your return signals a change in our
luck.”
Luna
frowned. “I hate to disappoint you,
Razz, but we didn’t come to Etheria to change the course of a rebellion we knew
nothing of. We have enough problems of
our own without getting involved in a foreign war.”
“Like
it or not, you’re involved now,” Madame Razz replied matter-of-factly. She sloshed the remnants of the tea in her
cup and eyed Luna curiously. “So what problems
brought you here to Etheria, then?”
The
tiny Lunatac sighed. “It’s a long
story. Suffice it to say we were
persecuted by some Thunderians that took it upon themselves to dictate to us
how to live our lives.”
“Thunderians? Dearie my, what are they?”
“Loathsome
felines from the planet Thundera, or New Thundera as it’s called now,” Luna
said bitterly. “They think their ways
are the only ways, and they want to force everyone to live by their primitive
standards. Especially their leaders, the
damnable Thundercats.”
Madame
Razz was clearly intrigued by Luna’s tale.
“What did these Thunderians do to you?”
“They
challenged us on our past home on Third Earth.
It was a planet we lived on for many years after leaving our own home
Moons. During our stay there, we had the
misfortune of being overpowered by an undead mage called Mumm-Ra, who tried to
enslave us, I imagine not unlike the way the Horde did to your people,” Luna
told her. “We fought Mumm-Ra, but failed,
and he sealed us in molten rock for years.”
Madame
Razz blinked in astonishment. “Molten
rock? Dearie my, and you lived?”
“It
was magical,” Luna said with a dismissive wave.
“It was painful, but not fatal.
It had us in a form of suspension.
I imagine Mumm-Ra might have left us there forever had he not needed us
when the Thunderians came to his planet and tried to eradicate him. He had his henchmen, worthless Mutants from
Plundarr’s planetside, free us so that we might stand up to them. We found out quickly that the Thundercats were
not as easy to handle as Mumm-Ra would have had us believe, and before we knew
it, we were the focus of their attacks too.
Over a couple of years, they destroyed our vehicles, our base, and with
the help of a particularly annoying officer from CONTROL, had us imprisoned on
a gods-damned intergalactic circus train of all things.”
“A
circus train?” Madame Razz said incredulously.
“And what is CONTROL?”
“CONTROL
is some idiotic interplanetary law system that thinks it has the right to tell
the inhabitants of its worlds what to do.
Not unlike your Horde, except that CONTROL attempts to make a pretense
at being honorable,” Luna explained. “As
for the circus train, it’s exactly what I said it was—a ship set up in a series
of cages, run by a two-bit con artist that calls himself a bounty hunter. The punishment for our ‘crimes’ according to
the Thundercats and CONTROL was to spend the rest of our lives being humiliated
and displayed as circus freaks.”
Adora,
who had been nearby, listened to Luna’s account intently. The rebel leader was both shocked and
appalled at the treatment Luna and her friends had received at the hands of
their adversaries. “Circus freaks?” she
questioned softly. “That’s terrible.”
Madame
Razz looked up as Adora approached and motioned for her to join them on the
log. “Indeed,” she said in
agreement. “That’s not a punishment,
that’s the demented fantasy of an egomaniac.”
Luna
smiled slightly at the sympathetic response.
She had to admit it had been a long time since anyone had cared to
listen to her take on things. Even her
own crew hardly ever seemed to take her seriously. “And the Horde seems to feel the same way
about us as the Thundercats and CONTROL, given their warm reception to us.”
“That’s
how the Horde is,” Adora said with a sigh.
“They shoot first and ask questions later.”
Luna’s
expression hardened. “And now for their
grievous error in judgment, The Horde will learn what it means to mess with the
Lunatacs of Plundarr.”
“And
the Great Rebellion,” Madame Razz agreed.
Adora
smiled at Luna reassuringly. “Don’t
worry, Luna. We’ll do everything in our
power to get your friends and ours back.”
* * *
After
many hours flying through space, the Feliner’s computers beeped softly to alert
the Thundercat crew that they were approaching their destination, the planet
Etheria. Panthro was seated in the
primary pilot’s seat, Lion-O beside him, and Cheetara in the seat behind the
two. “It looks like we’re there,” the
cheetah said softly, the first to acknowledge it verbally. They were all a little tired, and in the past
couple of hours the conversation had died for the most part between the three
of them. “Lion-O, would you like to do
the honors?”
The
Thundercat lord nodded. “I’ll put a call
through to them.” The Feliner’s computer
was already programmed with the hailing frequencies to reach Etheria’s
governmental base, originally given to them by Mandora prior to their
departure. He leaned forward toward the
microphone and punched in the sequence to contact them. “This is Lord Lion-O of New Thundera aboard
the craft Feliner trying to contact the officials of the Horde on the planet
Etheria,” he stated in his message, taking care to speak clearly and
politely. “Please respond. Over.”
A
few moments later the image of a metallic robot with a red bat insignia on its
chest appeared on the console view screen.
“Fright Zone receiving your transmission, Lord Lion-O,” it responded. “What business do you have on Etheria?”
“We
come in peace, on a mission to capture some dangerous fugitives from our sector
of the galaxy. We have reason to believe
they may be hiding on your planet and that your citizens may be in danger.”
The
robot’s eyes flashed as it processed Lion-O’s response, and a moment later it
spoke again. “Hold while we clear this
with the mighty Hordak.”
Lion-O
nodded. “Will do.” The robot then disappeared from the screen,
and a freeze pattern, indicating that the transmission was on hold, replaced
the image. Lion-O turned to his two
companions.
“The
Mighty Hordak?” Panthro repeated, smiling.
“Looks like this Horde leader has some confidence to go by a title like
that.”
Cheetara
chuckled. “It’s no less presumptuous
than Jaga the Wise, unless this Hordak gave himself the title. Perhaps his people just think highly of him.”
“Mandora
did say this Horde was an empire of planets,” Lion-O conceded. “Maybe their customs center a little more
strongly on royalty than the ones we’re used to.”
“Always
a possibility, I guess,” Panthro replied, slowing the Feliner down as they
entered Etheria’s orbit. “Looks like a
nice enough planet,” he mused, taking in the view of the planet’s lands,
clouds, oceans, and orbiting moons together.
Their
conversation was cut off when Hordak’s face appeared on the screen. “This is Etherian Horde Leader Hordak
speaking,” the white-faced ruler of the Fright Zone stated in a no-nonsense
tone. “What’s all this about? What fugitives are you after?”
“Good
to meet you, Hordak,” Lion-O said cordially.
“I’m Lion-O, Lord of the Thundercats of New Thundera, and these are my
fellow Thundercats Panthro and Cheetara.”
He leaned back and gestured to the other two beside and behind him.
“New
Thundera—never heard of it,” Hordak replied with a snort.
“We’re
pretty far from home, past sector six.
This part of the galaxy is new to us as well.”
Hordak’s
eyes widened slightly. “Sector six,
huh? That’s CONTROL territory. New Thundera is a CONTROL planet?” As Mandora had implied when she first told
Lion-O about the Horde, Hordak was likewise irritated at the presence of a
CONTROL affiliate in his airspace. While
the Horde was powerful, CONTROL also had a lot of influence, and the two
organizations had the unspoken agreement to leave one another alone as both
were large and did not consider interfering with the other’s business worth the
hassle.
Lion-O
nodded. “We consider ourselves an ally
of them, yes, but we have no issues with the Horde and we’re not here on CONTROL
business,” he assured Hordak. “Our
mission is a peaceful one. We simply
want to recapture some wanted criminals that we believe are hiding on Etheria,
individuals known as the Lunatacs of Plundarr.”
“They’re
dangerous and have no regard for the law or anyone that gets in their way,”
Panthro added from beside Lion-O. “They
could be a threat to your citizens.”
Hordak’s
expression changed visibly at the mention of the Lunatacs, although the emotion
behind it was unreadable to the Thundercats.
“Lunatacs of Plundarr, you say?” he repeated, his tone becoming
noticeably friendlier. “And they’re
wanted criminals from CONTROL territory?”
“Dangerous
ones,” Cheetara said with a nod.
A
smile crept across Hordak’s features.
“You don’t say. Well then,” he
said with another snort, “I might just be able to help you out there, Lord
Lion-O. Some troublemakers calling
themselves Lunar Plundarrians have been apprehended into our custody here in
the Fright Zone. Why don’t you land and
discuss this with us?”
The
three Thundercats exchanged hopeful looks.
They had expected a fight in capturing the Lunatacs, and had not been
sure what to expect from the Horde, but the news that some, if not all of the
Lunatacs could be in custody already of individuals who appeared to be willing
to work with them was almost as close to ideal a situation as it could get for
them. “Thank you very much,” Lion-O
answered graciously. “We’d be happy to.”
“Excellent,”
Hordak replied. “I’ll send you the
landing coordinates and have a party ready to greet you. Welcome to Etheria and the Fright Zone.” Hordak’s grin widened for a brief moment
before the transmission ended and the screen went blank.
Panthro
clicked a few buttons on the console. “I
have the coordinates here. Initiating
landing sequence now.” The sound of the
engines shifting speeds filled the cabin, and the Feliner quickly made a
descent to Etheria’s surface and blazed into the landing pad in the heart of
the Fright Zone.
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