Goroth Nug Jhahood
A collaboration by Slinky Avenger and Cheezey
Chapter One:
Unrest
The Third Moon of Plundarr was an unruly place by day, and was even more so
by night. Nighttime was the time of day during
which Lunatacs were most energetic, especially on their home moons. It was particularly late this one evening,
well after their local
This night however, Luna had come in earlier than usual, and had already had too many of her favored Dark Moon gin and tonics when she saw something that irritated her. Over at the bar, tended as usual by a pleasant—if not somewhat flighty—sky clan woman from the Fifth Moon, several mutants, whom she had regrettably seen in there a number of times before, were making it a point to give the winged woman a hard time, making loud, lewd, and crude remarks. Luna frowned. She didn’t know Ciela, the bartender, that well, but she always found her competent enough at what she did (namely, make her drinks strong) and friendly enough that she never had a gripe with her. And besides, she didn’t like mutants to begin with. The filthy primitives were not only unduly arrogant, but their blatant disrespect for females also rubbed the short Lunatac the wrong way.
She glanced over at security, wondering which of the doormen—she knew them all by now—was stupid enough to admit such trash. She saw it was Kreunch, a graviton that had worked there for some time. Narrowing her eyes in displeasure, she tapped Amok awake and instructed him to take her to the door. On the way, she downed the remainder of her drink. “Kreunch,” she said, not bothering to keep her voice down, “what happened to your standards?”
Kreunch flinched and glanced warily at the mutants. “Believe me, Miss Luna, I didn’t want to let ‘em in, but Simetar said I had to admit certain amount of his mutant associates. Guess he’s afraid it’ll hurt his holdings if he turns away mutant stockholders or somethin’.”
“Really,” Luna seethed, glaring once again at the mutants. She watched one of them, a reptilian, unashamedly make an attempt to grope the bartender, who was clearly as infuriated as Luna, but trying to keep from doing something that would endanger her job. “Perhaps someone should point to your boss, then, that admitting such trash in here will hurt this business.”
Kreunch only shrugged helplessly. “I can’t do nothin’ unless someone complains about them starting trouble.”
“Don’t you think Ciela is complaining about how those primitives are acting?”
The graviton looked over. “Yeah, but employees can’t say anything. And she won’t complain. You know how hard it is for a lush like her to keep a job to begin with? Hell, her brother had to convince Simetar to hire her to begin with.”
Luna retrieved her riding crop from Amok’s pouch. “Well then, in that case, let me be the first to complain.” She tapped Amok with her heel. “Amok, take me to the bar.”
“Uh, Miss Luna, please—” Kreunch was cut off as the inebriated Luna and her steed thundered away in the direction of the bar.
The reptilian who was harassing the sky-dweller hissed and whirled around in outrage as he felt Luna’s crop connect with the side of his face. “Classless fool, who do you think you are? Hasn’t anyone pointed out to you that Lunatac women are not to be treated like the spineless hunks of meat you demean them to on Plundarr?”
Izzir, the reptilian whom Luna was taking issue with, stood to his full height and flared his scales, making him look even bigger than before. “Uppity Lunatac bitch. You got sssomething to say to me?”
Ciela skittered back slightly, but met Luna’s eyes imploringly. “It’s all right, Luna, they’re nothing I can’t handle,” she said, giving the mutants a glare.
A simian named Cynor grinned maliciously and grabbed her arm. “Hoo hoo, wanna come back to my room and find out, baby?”
The sky-dweller yanked her arm back under one of the taps, bruising the simian’s arm. “Not particularly.”
Luna meanwhile glared back at Izzir. “Yes, I do have something to say to you, slime-crawler. We don’t like your kind in this place, much less on our Moons. Why don’t you go find a dark hole to scuttle into, before some of the patrons here decide to force the issue?”
Two other bar patrons, an icewalker and a Fourth Moon fire-bearer, stood up and walked over. “She’s got a point, mutant,” rasped the ice man, a burly warrior named Shivor. “It’s hard to get the stink of mutants out of a place once it’s infested.”
The fire clan Lunatac made a fist, already blazing with his natural fire abilities. “Yeah,” he echoed his drinking buddy, “so you might want to leave before we do what Kreunch over there won’t.”
A third mutant, a rat businessman named Dawler, sneered. “The owner of this club has no problems with mutant patronage, so perhaps you street thugs are the ones that should go elsewhere.”
“Wrong thing to say,” Helian, the fire-bearer, snarled back. He swung his fiery fist at the rat’s snout. The rat squealed and ducked, while the fourth mutant, another reptilian named Skalish, bared his teeth and snapped at Helian. This in turn caused Shivor to spit ice at both him and Cynor, who was also taking issue with the fiery Lunatac assaulting his companion.
Amok growled as Luna advanced toward Izzir. “It’s pretty clear to me who the troublemakers here are. Do us all a favor, and get the hell out!” Her voice rose to an unusually shrill note, and she waved her crop exaggeratedly in her drunken state.
“Over our dead bodiesss,” Izzir hissed back. He drew a long knife from his belt and slashed it at Amok. Over at the door, Kreunch saw the argument escalate to an all-out brawl, and ran to intervene, but it was too late. Cynor was on him in a flash and had him engaged in a fight, and other patrons were gathering around to watch and cheer as the melee continued.
From behind the bar, Ciela sighed and kicked a broken glass, hurtled in her direction inadvertently by Shivor, doing his best to ice Skalish, out of the way. “Now I’m gonna lose this job for sure,” she grumbled, and picked up a bottle of Plundarrian Whiskey with one hand and the phone with the other. She took a generous swig, and then called the law enforcers.
* * *
It was twenty minutes later when Frostor got the call, and heard the news that Luna had been arrested. After smacking his forehead, and debating whether or not he should let the bossy shrew spend the night in jail, he’d eventually come to the conclusion that no matter how tempting it would be to leave her there, he had to go and bail her out. Not only would Selene be furious with him if he let her stew there, but the royalty hardly needed any scandal with the mutant situation as it was. Besides, Amok didn’t deserve to spend the night there, just because his mistress was a loudmouthed instigator.
He’d arranged for her release with little trouble, as nobody on the Moons would question the word of the Governor General, and once the three of them were in his vehicle, bound back for the MoonTower, he ended the relative silence he’d been keeping while they were in public. “I can’t say that was one of your more brilliant moves, Luna. I thought you left your bar fighting days behind when you were run off the Moons the first time.”
Luna scowled and folded her arms. “If I wanted to hear your opinion, I’d have asked for it!”
“If you don’t want to hear it, I’ll be more than happy to turn around and take you back to your holding cell,” he retorted coolly.
“Spare me your self-righteous lectures. You didn’t see how those mutants were acting.”
Frostor sighed. “I know full well how mutants act. I’ve had to deal with them more than you have of late. But that isn’t the point. I thought better of you, Luna. Didn’t you stop to think that starting a childish fight while we’re in the middle of negotiations with the Plundarrian ambassador would damage the potential for a peaceful resolution?”
Luna snorted. “Mutants aren’t interested in peace. They’re interested in insinuating themselves into our affairs, into our lives, and worst of all, onto our Moons. I have no problems with making it known that as far as I’m concerned, they’re not welcome.”
“And by breaking laws by demonstrating that, you only make it that much harder for us to get our jobs done! Do you really think that once Ambassador Ssysra reads of this, that he won’t jump at the chance to take issue with the fact that the Queen’s closest living relative started an anti-mutant riot in the Dianus club? As it is, I’m going to have to explain all of this to Selene and Darkail tonight so they can prepare some sort of diplomatic response for it.”
Feeling drowsy and irritable, Luna leaned against Amok’s horn. “Darkail’s the ambassador. Not me. You can have Alluro hypnotize that scaly reptile for all I care.”
Frostor clenched his hands around the steering mechanism and fought the urge to throttle the tiny Lunatac. “Just do me a favor, Luna, and stay out of the public eye for a few days. Can you handle that?”
“If it’ll keep you from lecturing me like a child and get you to shut up, I’ll do whatever you want,” the drunken and annoyed Luna slurred back.
The ice general let out a heavy, frosty sigh as they passed by the MoonTower’s property-line security and drove into the landing bay. “Good. Then follow me up to your quarters, get into bed, and sleep it off. We’ll continue this discussion in the morning.”
* * *
Selene let out a beleaguered sigh and rubbed her temples. Today was turning out to be one of those days. She’d known for some time now that the situation with the mutants on the Moons was getting out of hand, and with each new twist of events, it seemed more and more like she’d be forced to take an action she didn’t want to take. She had been Queen of the Moons for many years now, but the stress of politics was never something that went easily for her, and situations such as the one brewing with the mutants now was entirely unfamiliar territory.
It began with Thundera’s destruction. The neighboring planet’s violent explosion caused shockwaves that wreaked horrific disasters—earthquakes, floods, tidal waves, volcanic eruptions, climactic disturbances and violent storms—on all five of the Plundarrian Moons. The population of Lunatacs had been decimated, and she and those around her were among the mere four percent it was estimated that survived. It had taken nearly a decade to rebuild their civilization, and she’d spent much of her later childhood and all her adult life supervising it. And while her people generally considered her to be a fair and benevolent ruler, certainly a far contrast from the warmonger her father had been, she was not cut out for the dicey relations in dealing with the planet-side Plundarrians, whom they’d been forced to go to for aid a number of years back. The Moons had shielded the planet of Plundarr itself from the worst effects of Thundera’s destruction, but at a very heavy price. The surviving Lunar people were too proud to go to the mutants, whom they considered far beneath them, for help, until it was clear that they had no choice. At the time Selene had been advised that it was the lesser of two evils: she could either forge diplomatic ties and ask for assistance, or run the risk of the mutants getting the idea that they could invade and take over completely. So she had opted for the first, and proposed a treaty, and the mutants had accepted. At the very least, they were at peace, and the mutants could not actively invade without rendering the treaty null and void, in which case they could fall back on other alliances, as well as CONTROL, to intervene.
But as luck would have it, it seemed that the mutants were trying to take over in a more insidious way. They simply wouldn’t leave and return to their own planet. Instead they ran profitable businesses, selling to those they could and situating themselves in the heart of their economy. It was her feeling, and the feeling of her people, that now that the Plundarrian military presence was long gone, that the mutants were intentionally hoarding resources that rightfully belonged to the Lunatacs. As much as she would have liked, she couldn’t simply order the mutants thrown off planet, especially ones that hadn’t broken any laws, but none of the more diplomatic routes of encouraging them to return home had worked… and the stress of it was wearing on her heavily.
In her most recent effort to negotiate with the mutants, she’d invited the mutant ambassador Ssysra to the Third Moon to discuss the matter. A meeting had been set up with their own ambassador, a Hunter named Darkail whom she’d only met a handful of times, but had come highly recommended from Frostor as well as her husband’s father Alluro, to hash things out. The discussion had started out cordially enough. Both Darkail and Ssysra were highly charismatic and refined individuals, known for their self-control and dignified demeanor. How the talk had dissolved to such a disaster was beyond her.
“Plundarr had to help you rebuild practically everything,” Ssysra rasped heatedly. “We deserve our current holdings!”
“You deserve nothing,” Darkail replied with a slight growl, reining in his temper. “We have repaid our debt to you in full! Your presence is stunting our own economy and damaging potential trade alliances with other races. It is no secret that some races would rather not deal with mutants, given their reputation.”
Ambassador Ssysra hissed indignantly and his scales flared away from his body, an obvious sign of aggression. Darkail’s eyes flashed with a murderous look, and he stiffened.
A glower crossed Selene’s face and she stepped between them, slamming her hand onto the table with uncharacteristic force. “Enough!”
Both men turned and looked at the Queen in surprise. Selene was standing straight, looking both grim and furious. “I’m disappointed in both of you,” she said evenly, clearly trying to keep her own emotions at bay.
Ssysra sniffed, and with much effort, smoothed his emerald and gold scales back against his body.
“Selene,” Darkail interrupted, in an effort to explain and apologize for his behavior, “I—”
He was silenced by a withering look from the Queen, who then turned toward Ssysra. “I’ll be direct with you, Ambassador,” Selene said, “get off our planet!”
Darkail’s brow furrowed and he shook his head. He wouldn’t speak it, but he felt that if all she planned to do was yell—justified as he thought it might be—she’d have been better off leaving things to him. If there was one thing he had learned in his recent dealings with the Plundarrian government, it was that they were not as easily bullied as rumors would have it.
Ssysra smirked, and his tail writhed casually behind him. “I’ll be direct with you, your highness,” he sneered, hissing ‘highness’. Ssysra did his best to eliminate the lisp in his voice, but it leaked through in some instances. “Plundarr will not give up its holding on the 5 moons. There have been no illegal dealings in the contracts I’ve reviewed, and terminating legal business holdings without just cause might well be seen as a violation of the treaty.”
Darkail narrowed his eyes, and spoke up before Selene could. “No treaties have been violated, Ssysra. You would do well not to make assumptions you’ve no proof to back up.” His tone was calm, but the hard look in his eyes was anything but.
Ssysra was not impressed. “And none have been made, I assure you,” he replied with perfect politeness. “I was merely pointing out that if certain courses of action were to be taken, how the Plundarrian government would interpret them. I am merely doing my job.” He sipped at the glass of water he was given and set it down on the table carefully. “As I assume you are.”
“I assure you, I am being nothing but professional,” Darkail replied, clenching one of his clawed hands under the table. The thought that the reptilian wouldn’t want to see a Hunter such as him being unprofessional crossed his mind as he regarded the mutant.
Ssysra nodded. “Then it would seem we have no conflict, do we?” he stated, stepping back from the table with a polite bow. “I will be leaving tomorrow, and as such, I am retiring to my quarters until my ship arrives,” he smiled a sharp toothed grin, “Good day to you.”
“Good day,” Darkail echoed, forcing as insincere a smile as the mutant had given.
“Good day,” Selene repeated, not bothering to make the effort the ambassador did. It occurred to her that she was acting like her father would have in such a situation. It disturbed her. She didn’t want his reputation.
With that, Ssysra whirled and sauntered off to his quarters, escorted by his entourage and select members of the Tower’s security. As soon as he was out of earshot, Selene let out a frustrated growl. She did not like the way she’d acted, and she resented both the situation and the mutants that had placed her in it highly. With the way things were going, she could swear that the word ‘compromise’ didn’t seem to exist in the Plundarrian vocabulary.
“Selene, I think we may need help on this one,” Darkail said tentatively, frowning as he eyed the door through which Ssysra had exited.
She shook her head. “And owe someone else an un-payable debt?”
Darkail met her gaze. “No. Not an ally that would seek to collect such debts. One less mercenary than that.”
“Who?”
“I was thinking of contacting the Thundercats,” he said simply.
The Queen nodded contemplatively. It was a known fact that the mutants felt threatened by the honorable felines, and while there was generally little love lost between Lunatacs and Thunderians as well, they were officially at peace. “I’d hate to bring them into this,” she finally murmured, “but it seems we’ve argued into a corner. See to it, Darkail. I trust you’ll keep me informed?”
“Naturally.” Darkail bowed at the waist, turned, and exited the conference chambers, leaving Selene alone in her thoughts.
When had everything become so complicated, she wondered? Usually, both the mutant and the Lunatac governments stayed out of each other’s business. The mutants didn’t trust the Lunatacs with their natural powers and more advanced science, and the Lunatacs didn’t trust the mutants’ almost religious militarism. At first the rebuilding alliance had gone smoothly. The mutants offered assistance where directed, and largely kept to themselves otherwise. But slowly, they began insinuating themselves into the mainstream more. Mutant communities had been built in sections of New Eclipsis. One of the primary businessmen of the area, Simetar, had even begun selling limited quantities of stocks to mutant shareholders both on the Moons and on Plundarr, to increase his own profits.
At first, it was distressing, but the Lunar government had seen it merely as a favor to engage in the above-average trade level with those who had so generously assisted them and adhered to their treaty. But the time for favors had come and gone, and on the word of their economists, Frostor had pointed out to her more than once that the debt of the rebuilding efforts was estimated to be repaid by now. As a result, things were rapidly reaching an intolerable level. There were more than a few rumors and concerns circulating among the Lunatac populace, and the royalty as well, that mutants were planning some sort of takeover through their economic holdings. Riots and incidences of mutant-Lunatac disputes were arising at an alarming rate in the cities. More and more it seemed she was being called in to make some sort of decision or call involving mutants, mutant holdings, or the like. And the most recent event, the debacle wherein Luna had been arrested, had only made things worse.
She’d heard the news the previous night, when Frostor called both her and Darkail at an obscenely late hour to break the news to them. When she confronted her Aunt Luna with it the following morning, the tiny Lunar woman had come back screeching about how mutants had no place on any of the Moons. It was that incident that had caused Selene to call the impromptu conference with Darkail and Ssysra. She had been planning on communicating with the Plundarrian government about their occupation previously, and she supposed now was as good a time as any. The Plundarrians had responded quickly, and Selene had taken that as a good sign... but in reality, it seemed, it was merely a front. It was clear the mutants were not willing to lose any of their precious resources.
Selene heard a quiet knock at the door, and her husband Psiarik entered tentatively. He knew that his wife had been very on edge lately, and he didn’t want to agitate her further. He had to credit her in that she was dealing with the mess with the mutants far better than he would have been, had he been in her shoes. He’d asked to be left out of it some time ago. To say the least, diplomacy was not the short-tempered Psi’s strong suit. She looked up at him and smiled weakly as he approached. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “How’d it go?”
“Not well. Ssysra’s leaving tomorrow,” she exhaled loudly, “and he’s going by himself.”
Psiarik’s brow furrowed and he sat next to her. “Figures,” he muttered. “I can’t say I expected otherwise.”
“Your confidence is overwhelming,” she snapped irritably, then sighed. “Sorry. Guess I’m on edge.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s all right. If it’s any consolation, you lasted longer than I would. Or Frostor. Or even dear old Aunt Luna,” he noted with a smirk.
Selene frowned ruefully. “She hasn’t helped, with her getting embroiled in that bar fiasco.”
“Luna isn’t known for keeping her opinions to herself,” the psychic agreed with a sigh. “So now what?”
“I told Darkail to contact the Thundercats,” Selene said quietly. She noted Psiarik’s eyebrow raise slightly at her statement, but he didn’t interrupt her. “Involving them in this farce makes me feel terrible, but I don’t have any other choices at this point. No laws have been violated, so we can’t go to CONTROL, and the Thunderians, despite their shortcomings, at least can be trusted not to double-cross us.”
“You made the right decision,” Psiarik assured her, cupping her face in his hands and lightly kissing her forehead. She sighed and leaned against him.
* * *
Ssysra headed quickly for his chambers. He was sick of dealing with the Lunatacs, and their spineless Queen in particular. He was surprised she’d bothered to interfere at all. He wondered how one like her could have come from the same hardened breed of warrior her father had been. He had no love for the ex-Lunatac monarch Lunaro, but he at least could respect his ambition and his ruthlessness. He supposed her lenient policies made her popular with her own people, but it was that sort of sentimentality and weakness that made mutants balk at the idea of putting a woman in charge in the first place.
His claws clicked loudly on the marble floors, and he hoped silently that he was annoying someone. He regretted losing control and letting that arrogant Hunter push his buttons during their discussion earlier, but he supposed it didn’t matter at that point. Regardless of whatever protests the Lunatacs made, Plundarr wasn’t going to leave their newfound goldmine peacefully, even if Lunatacs were now aware of the fact. Maybe soon they would tire of their lost cause, and they would go back to ignoring the mutants again. It would certainly make things easier for him.
* * *
Goroth Nug Jhahood plowed through space, hurtling in whatever direction he was pulled in by the many eddies and flows of gravity and spatial winds. Long ago, he had been created and turned loose, a deadly missile meant to destroy a planet. Long ago, Goroth Nug Jhahood knew his purpose and could control his movements. But that was indeed long ago. Now his memory had been worn away by the countless millennia. All Jhahood knew now was an overwhelming desire to destroy. He had hurtled past many systems, striking fear into their very souls, but relaxing as he passed by harmlessly.
The monolithic juggernaut knew that one day there would be a planet in his path, and that his ultimate desire would be fulfilled.
For now, he bided his time.
Goroth Nug Jhahood, Killer of Planets, had all the time in the universe.
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