Chapter Four: Dark Horizon
It was an observatory on Mirindet, the Fourth Moon of Plundarr, which first saw the gargantuan comet heading toward the moons. A noted Psi astronomer, resuming his studies after a short vacation, let out an uncharacteristic shout when he saw it, and his mind pondered how large it was, and how fast it must be moving, to have appeared so visibly in such a short time. “Moon Gods,” he breathed, scribbling furiously on his notepad. He took several telescopic pictures, and did hasty calculations, re-did them once, twice, and a third time before his purplish face paled considerably, and he put an emergency call in to the military.
Twenty minutes later another call, as well as several deep-space pictures and pages worth of calculations that only an astronomer or a physicist could appreciate, was routed through to Governor General Frostor’s office on the Third Moon. As it was, he’d been having a fairly relaxed day, considering how things had been going as of late. Selene reported to him earlier that it seemed hopeful the Thundercats would help, and Ambassador Ssysra had left without incident. Luna was being herself, but she was at least giving him space and not getting on his case. Needless to say, he wasn’t thrilled to get a frantic call from some science officer on the Fourth Moon rambling about the end of the world and trying to explain a bunch of scientific tech-speak in a heated rush.
He was in the process of trying to cut the long-winded and hysterical call short, so he could sort it out with some rational scientists in his department, when he heard a knock on the door. He quickly excused himself from the call and ended it, inwardly thanking whoever it was that had stopped by and provided him with the easy out. “Come in,” he called.
To Frostor’s surprise, it was Alluro that walked in. He frowned when he saw the disheveled mess that was Frostor’s office. “Did I come at a bad time?”
“When isn’t a bad time lately?” the ice general grumbled.
Alluro chuckled and took that as an invitation to enter. He was all too familiar with the troubles plaguing the royals as of late. Living among them, courtesy of his blood tie to the Queen’s husband, he heard about it all on a daily basis, usually at the dinner or breakfast table. At least, when he didn’t choose to dine alone with Chilla, whom had become his mate a few years prior, or Darkail, who was one of his closer friends. Of course, it was through Darkail, or Psiarik, that he usually heard the inside story of what was going on. Usually Chilla wanted to hear nothing of it, and he’d sooner eat rusty nails than spend social time with Luna, even though the nosy little shrew probably knew the best gossip of all. He still wished he could have seen the look on her face when she was arrested. In fact, that little matter, as well as the situation with the mutants in general, was what he’d come to Frostor to discuss. He wanted another viewpoint, especially since Darkail was distracted by the presence of the Thundercat Cheetara—a presence he could have done without, when it came down to it—in the MoonTower.
“So,” Alluro asked, sitting down, “how are things going, Frostor?”
Frostor sighed. “You mean aside from the usual chaos?”
Alluro raised an eyebrow. “That bad?”
The icewalker picked up the printouts of the calculations the scientists had sent him, and handed them to Alluro. “You’re scientific-minded, right? Skim that summary report and you tell me.”
The hypnotist’s eyes widened. “Great Moons, has this been verified? There’s a comet hurtling right towards Plundarr?”
Another heavy sigh came from Frostor. “So they told me. I was hoping there was an error, or that they were exaggerating.”
“I’m no astronomer, but if those figures are correct…” his normally suave voice, less smooth than usual, trailed off as he set the papers down.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Isn’t there anything that can be done?”
“I’m going to try and find out,” Frostor stated, smoothing a hand through his usually neat white hair. “In the meantime, keep this to yourself. The last thing we need now is rumors about doomsday spreading. Being a civilian, you shouldn’t even know this yet.”
Alluro frowned. “Frostor, I’m technically a royal. You don’t trust me?”
The general raised an eyebrow. “I know you. I mean it. Not a word. Not to Chilla, not Selene, not Psiarik, and certainly not Luna.”
At that, Alluro resisted an urge to laugh. “Believe me, even after all these years, I’ll find any excuse I can not to talk to Luna. Besides,” he added with a hint of a smirk, “knowing you, you’d rather tell her yourself.”
Frostor failed to see the humor in that statement, and he gave the psychic a stony expression. “Good, then we understand each other.”
“Perfectly well,” Alluro agreed, and stood to leave. As he approached the doorway, he paused and turned, meeting the ice man’s eyes with a serious look. “Frostor… keep me informed, all right?”
Frostor nodded back, and a heavy silence hung over the pair for a few moments before Alluro turned and left, closing the office door behind him with a firm click.
* * *
“How are things going over there, Cheetara?” Lion-O’s concerned visage spoke to his spotted mate over the interplanetary connection.
A tired smile crossed her features. She hadn’t told him of her dream yet. She hadn’t told anyone other than Pumyra, and she’d asked her to keep it quiet. She didn’t want to trouble the others until she had more concrete information to give them, and she was hoping that if she dreamed again, and prepared herself for the draining vision ahead of time, she might be able to last longer and learn more. Of course, that had been only hours before the call had come in to the Lair from the Third Moon, requesting a Thundercat representative to have a diplomatic audience with the Queen. Thundera historically had few ambassadors; usually the Thundercats simply took the duty upon themselves. Lion-O, not knowing of her troubles, had asked her to go, since he had political business of his own to tend to, and Tygra was stationed on Third Earth with Lynx-O.
In all honesty, the meeting with Selene was a welcome break from the stress of pondering the implications of her vision and the comet. She found Selene pleasant enough, and while she had a few reservations about politically tying Thundera so closely to the Lunatacs, all things considered, she thought an alliance might do them all some good. She certainly didn’t want their respective peoples to repeat any of the terrible wars of the past.
“Cheetara?” Lion-O’s voice, more insistent and worried, broke into her thoughts.
Cheetara blinked and met his eyes. “Oh, I’m fine, Lion-O. I was just thinking.” She shook her head to clear her mind and gather her thoughts. “Selene has asked us if we’d enter into a formal alliance with the Lunatacs. She’s concerned about the mutant presence on the Moons, and she wants us to help her encourage them to leave without causing a war. The mutants won’t gracefully give up their economic holdings, even though their debt has been repaid fiscally.”
“Mutants were never known for their grace,” Lion-O noted with a frown. “And frankly, neither are Lunatacs. I may have been too young to remember Old Thundera’s wars, but I know from the history texts that my father and King Lunaro were at war at least twice in their time, and the Lunatacs fought dirty.”
“I know what happened in the past, Lion-O. My cousin Chetland attained his title of Thundercat for acts of bravery during one of the more notorious Lunar raids.”
“We also can’t forget the crimes Luna’s group committed on Third Earth—crimes that one might argue have not been paid for in full, considering they escaped from exile.” Lion-O paused, and took on a more serious expression. “And we certainly shouldn’t forget that no matter how sincere Selene seems to be, she did grant Luna’s crew immunity from their crimes.”
Cheetara sighed. “Because of her family’s ties to Luna, I’m sure… and to their credit, I can’t say I’ve heard of them returning to their past ways recently. Maybe it would do us some good to let bygones be bygones and try to forge a more positive diplomatic relationship with them. An alliance might have benefits to us as well, especially if the mutants turn on us. The Plundarrian Moons aren’t the only societies rebuilding themselves still, and a military ally to call on could be helpful to us if the mutants do make any aggressive moves. I’m sure that if they did take over the Moons, that we would be the next target.” She left out the nagging feeling that her nightmarish vision also hinted that in the face of what they were up against, they’d need all the allies they could get.
Lion-O paused thoughtfully. “You have a point. Tell her that we’re willing to consider the offer. Listen to her terms, and trust your intuition. If it tells you to agree to help, then do it. I have the utmost faith in your judgment, Cheetara.”
The cheetah smiled in spite of herself. “Yes, but you also love me.”
Lion-O smiled back warmly. “Which makes me only more sure of my decision.”
Cheetara leaned closer to the screen and looked as close as she could into his eyes while they were a world apart. “Thank you, Lion-O. I’ll go and talk with Selene then, and hopefully I’ll be home soon.”
“And I’ll be waiting,” Lion-O answered back. The two touched their fingertips to the respective sides of the screen for a moment as their eyes met in an unspoken goodbye as the communication cut off.
* * *
Alluro looked up at the apartment complex that loomed before him, and then
back at the slip of paper he had. The
building was fairly new, and it was fairly close to the royal quarters. Since it was nice outside, he figured he’d
walk to it, rather than take one of the vehicles. He approached the door, and buzzed
“Yes?” said a familiar voice.
Alluro smiled in spite of himself. “It’s me, RedEye... Alluro,” the hypnotist replied. He surprised himself with his tentativeness. Had it been so long since he had been in contact with the darkling?
“Alluro?” RedEye sounded surprised. There was a brief silence before he continued. “Well, come on up!”
Alluro put his hand on the door, and opened it when he heard the electric lock buzz off momentarily. He nodded at the security guard, who recognized him as one of the Tower’s residents, and raised an eyebrow. Pressing the button for the lift, the psychic waited impatiently for it reach ground floor. A small display over the door indicated its whereabouts, and it seemed to take eternity, sometimes stopping for long periods on different floors. The other door remained stationary, with an ‘Out of Order: Sorry for the Inconvenience’ sign taped onto it. He smirked and shook his head.
Finally, with a strange tone, the elevator opened. A stunning darkling breezed out, not giving him a second glance. Alluro raised an eyebrow at her passing... hadn’t the elevator lingered on the seventh floor, now that he thought of it? He made a mental note to ask his old friend about it.
To his surprise, the elevator ascended quickly to his destination, and he stepped out. It was a nice building inside as well as out. Maybe a little Spartan for his tastes, but he could see why RedEye had chosen it.
He hunted around for a door marked 722 until he finally stumbled across it. Why the doors weren’t in numeric order was beyond him, but then again, RedEye always did have his strange quirks. Alluro hesitated for a moment, his fist inches from the door. It was going to be strange to see RedEye after all these years. He was slightly ashamed that he hadn’t kept in regular contact with him, and that he was only doing so now for a favor.
Finally he knocked. The door quickly swung open, and RedEye stood before him. He didn’t look that different from the last time their paths had crossed, about three years ago or so, except for a few more lines on his face. The pair looked at each other for a moment, and then the darkling broke the ice. RedEye patted him on the back and laughed. “It’s been awhile,” he said as he motioned Alluro in.
Just as the hypnotist had expected, RedEye’s apartment was very minimal, save for a few knick-knacks here and there. The thing that stood out the most was a framed picture on top of his vid screen. Alluro picked it up and looked at it. It was a picture from a long time ago, before they had all been run off the Moons all those years ago. Everyone in the old photograph looked quite amused, and more than a little drunk. Memories came flooding back to him.
“Remember that night?” RedEye asked as he noticed Alluro examining the picture, his voice stirring the Psi from his reverie.
The tall Lunatac nodded slowly, and a smile crept over his face. “It was TugMug’s birthday, wasn’t it? We threw him a surprise party...”
“...and we gave the stripper in the cake a camera,” RedEye finished.
In the picture, from the vantage of the stripper, TugMug had a wide grin on his face. Alluro and RedEye were already cheering in the picture, each of them with a mostly drained mug in one hand, dollar bills in the other. Chilla looked disgusted, and it appeared that Luna was ranting about something in the background. Torlei was barely visible, near the back of the picture, her expression unreadable. “How long have you kept this RedEye?” Alluro asked, setting the picture back in its place. His eyes lingered on Torlei for an extra moment, before he looked back toward the darkling, who shrugged.
“Since it was taken, I suppose,” he grinned.
“Ages ago,” the psychic agreed. “I haven’t seen TugMug in a few years now. Last I heard he went back to Tukabir. Even stranger, he took a mate that was built just like him,” he remarked with a grin. “Gravitina, I think he said her name was. He sent a picture. She has a pink mohawk,” he snickered. “The First Moon was never known for its sense of style.”
RedEye chuckled. “To say the least.” A silence fell over the pair, and they grew somber again. “But enough of old times... What’s going on? You sounded unusually serious when you called.”
They both took a seat on RedEye’s surprisingly plush couch. Alluro took a deep breath, and looked his friend in the eye. “There’s an immense comet headed for Plundarr,” he said grimly. RedEye eyed him quizzically, but remained silent and attentive. Alluro had always liked that about RedEye. He was the most subdued of his other cohorts. “We need someone to check it out and take some readings. The pilot for such a mission would have to be very good,” Alluro looked at his friend seriously.
RedEye digested the information slowly, a little put off by the whole concept. He hadn’t been in space for years. It also felt strangely comfortable to be chatting with Alluro. Besides the hypnotist, Chilla was the only other Lunatac he was able to stand back on Third Earth, mostly because she was the only attractive female for light years.
“You want me to take readings on a giant comet?” he affirmed.
Alluro nodded. “This comet... RedEye, it’s very serious. If it is truly heading for Plundarr, then we’re all in a lot of trouble.”
“When do I start?” the darkling said, clapping his large hand on Alluro’s shoulder.
Alluro grinned at his friend, and returned the gesture. “As soon as possible.”
“Lead the way.”
* * *
Ratrelle paced nervously in her temporary room. Jackalman had assured her that she was safe, time and time again, and had even gone so far as to post some guards outside her door, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in danger. Having lived in the palace harem for years, she knew all too well how shady and ruthless those who wanted the throne could be, and the higher their title, the more dangerous they were.
In a room in the opposite wing of his manor, Slythe settled into his lavish bed, appreciating the luxury. It was one far better than the straw-and-cloth bed he had to use on Third Earth, for certain. Just as he was drifting off into sleep, he heard an ever-so-soft rasping of scales near his bed. Immediately suspicious—one of the most treacherous mutants who ever lived did not continue living without razor-sharp instincts—he acted as though he had heard nothing and lay very still while his fingers inched toward a dagger he kept hidden under his pillow.
Suddenly, before he could take hold of it, he felt cold metal against his throat. He stiffened and hissed in protest, but didn’t cry out. Slythe knew enough about assassins to know that they weren’t always out for blood. If he remained quiet, the intruder might have something to say, or merely be threatening. His suspicions were correct.
A lithe form situated itself on top of him, and he barely caught a whiff of some lovely feminine pheromones. The dagger against his throat prevented him from doing anything, so he held very still, hoping his eyes would adjust to the darkness quickly.
“You are Slythe?” said the voice.
So it was a female! Not that he had much doubt on that count. He wondered if it was Bazungy. “Yesss,” he hissed quietly. He decided to try and get some information from her before he summoned his guards to dispose of her.
“Then you know where Ratrelle is, correct?” the reptilian assassin said, pressing her face close to his.
Slythe did his best not to grin. Having Klith’s sensual concubine so close to him was like a lusty dream come true. Unfortunately, she seemed to be all business. He decided that when he had her detained, he would do his best to put her to better use. What place did a woman have as an assassin, anyhow?
“I do,” he said simply, deducing what brought her to him as he lay there. He realized that Tiberon must have hired the viper to dispose of all witnesses.
“You will tell me now,” the female said flatly, putting more pressure on his throat.
He made a gurgling noise, and tried to shy away from the uncomfortable sensation. “What’s in it for me, yesss?” Arrogant and shrewd as ever, Slythe was determined to strike a bargain with the shapely reptilian.
“Your life,” she hissed sibilantly, unimpressed with his stalling tactics. He moved his tail slightly, and her eyes flicked away from him for a moment, which was her first mistake.
Taking advantage of her distraction, Slythe grabbed her by the shoulders and quickly turned the tide. Her strength, although impressive, was no match for Slythe’s brute force. Pinning her down with one powerful arm, he squeezed her wrist until she dropped the dagger on the floor. It thudded silently on the plush carpeting. “Now, impudent bitch!” Slythe said hotly. “What were you saying about my life?”
Her features twisted into a fearsome snarl, and she struggled violently in Slythe’s iron grip. She berated herself for being so careless. Clearly she had under estimated the reptilian... and that was a mistake that could very well cost her own life.
Meanwhile Slythe took a moment to appreciate her body writhing under his own. Klith was certainly a lucky bastard, he mused, or at least he would be until Slythe brought his traitorous viper before the High Council. Slythe leered at her, and caressed her suggestively. She made an annoyed sound, and wriggled some more, which irked the reptilian. The bitch was slippery! Not only that, but she didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him. Didn’t she realize that he was in charge of the situation now?
Unfortunately, his complacent thoughts served as a similar distraction as she had suffered earlier, and before Slythe could react, the agile assassin nabbed the dagger that was still sitting under his pillow and held the point at his throat. “Let me up. Now,” she said softly, her voice filled with contempt.
Still in shock at how quickly the tables had turned again, Slythe didn’t move. Bazungy drew the dagger lightly under one of his scales and pressed the point under it. The big reptilian let out a hiss of pain, and slowly released her, glaring at her with intense animosity.
Bazungy backed slowly towards a pillar that supported the ceiling, grabbing her own dagger as she did so. “It would be in your best interest to keep silent about this,” she said in a quiet, deadly tone. “I think you know what the consequences will be if you are not.” Without another word, she scooted up the pillar and into an air shaft, vanishing entirely in the shadows.
Slythe rubbed his injury sullenly. Why hadn’t his inept guards been able to stop her? Was she that good? It was clear that knew her trade well… but so did he. And while this incident might have been inconvenient, he would not be so easily intimidated. However, she did not need to know that.
* * *
Frostor looked out of his office window, and wished he could have at least a moment peace. Of course, with an irate Luna in his office, such a wish was most certainly unlikely to ever be fulfilled.
“Alluro has been acting strangely since he came out your office,” the purple and white haired woman ranted. “I demand to know what is going on!”
Frostor’s brow furrowed, and he tried his best to ignore her screeching. “Luna, I told you. I can’t tell you now. It’s a highly confidential topic.”
“Bah! Since when wasn’t I privy to such information? I am the Queen’s relative, or have you forgotten?”
“As if you’d let me forget,” the icewalker grumbled, and shot her a hard, cold glare. “And it’s since I said so, that’s why.”
Luna seemed put off by the reply, and her mouth worked soundlessly, actually at a loss for words. Before she could regain her composure, there was soft knock at the door. Casting another withering look at Luna, Frostor got up and opened the door. Alluro, with RedEye behind him, stood before the Governor General.
“Are we interrupting something?” Alluro asked, a knowing smile on his face. Frostor rolled his eyes and gratefully let the two other Lunatacs in.
Luna crowed in surprise, while Amok blinked and said “Red-Eye!” The darkling favored the brute with a half smile, and nodded to Luna.
Now Luna was more suspicious than ever. “What brings you to the palace, RedEye? It’s certainly been awhile.” She cast Frostor a look, but he only met her with the same neutral expression he usually regarded her with. When she looked back at RedEye he just nodded at her again, and she growled in frustration. “You’re as talkative as always, I see.”
RedEye formed a faint smirk, as he realized that after all this time Luna still hadn’t changed, and likely never would, but Frostor interrupted before he could say anything. “I have some business to discuss with these two,” the general said studiously. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Luna.”
Luna bristled, looking from Frostor, to Alluro, to RedEye, and back to Frostor again. She was positive they were up to something, and she didn’t like not being included in it one bit. The furious little Lunatac shook her riding crop at them. “I had better hear some substantial information soon, or you’ll be hearing from me!” she yowled. “All of you!”
“Like we haven’t already?” Alluro murmured, heard only by the other male Lunatacs.
They all suppressed a good chuckle, and watched as the irate Luna stormed out of the room. Frostor closed the door behind her, and let out a grateful sigh. “Thank the Moon gods, I’d thought she would never leave.” The three men shared a knowing look, and Frostor sat heavily in his seat, motioning for RedEye and Alluro to do the same. Once they were all seated, the icewalker handed RedEye a folder containing the transmissions and photos from the observatory.
While the darkling thumbed through the contents of the folder, his brow furrowed. “If these are correct,” he began, setting the folder on Frostor’s desk, “we’re all going to die horrible deaths,” he stated flatly. RedEye never was one to mince words.
Alluro and Frostor shifted in their seats, unnerved by RedEye’s direct statement. The ice Lunatac leaned on his desk, folding his hands before him. “We need you to collect some additional data from the comet, so we can confirm its trajectory. It’ll be dangerous, as we’re not sure of the gravitational forces surrounding it as of yet, but Alluro seems to have a lot of confidence in your piloting abilities in deep space. Will you do it?”
RedEye nodded grimly. How could he say no? If he didn’t, his neck was still on the line.
“I knew it!” an all-too-familiar voice screeched on the other side of the door. Frostor stormed to the door and flung it open. Sure enough, Luna and Amok were there, and they had clearly listened to everything they could hear through the door—which, Frostor mused, was entirely too much for a place that was supposed to be secure. He shot her a withering glare, but Luna was not deterred.
“I knew you were hiding something from me,” she raged. “And even worse, you’re keeping it from Selene as well? For someone who spouts rank and military secrecy, you sure have a lot of nerve,” she snapped at Frostor, though she was more horrified by the news than anything else. “Selene must be told immediately!”
Before she could urge Amok onwards, Frostor reached over and grabbed her crop, effectively stopping her, as she pulled back hard on it to wrench it out of his grasp. “No, Luna,” he said fiercely, tugging on the leather, his breath lowering the temperature of the room substantially. “I’ve put up with a lot of theatrics from you, but sending everyone into a panic about the end of the Moons before we have it confirmed is something I will not tolerate, especially considering what kind of stress Selene is under. Do we have an understanding?”
Frostor had spoken with such ferocity that Luna’s mouth was agape, setting a record for being speechless two times in one day. She nodded silently and folded her arms, and with a resigned sigh Frostor waved her into the room. He had his doubts that she’d keep quiet, but at least if she was informed on everything then he could at least keep an eye on her, and she’d be running with the truth instead of going off and babbling about what she thought the truth might be. Once Luna and Amok settled in next to Alluro and RedEye, Frostor directed his attention back to RedEye. “So when can you leave?”
“Now is fine.”
“Good, there’s a shuttle ready at our word, and air control has already cleared a path for you.” Frostor put his hands on RedEye’s shoulders. “Be careful.”
Alluro watched RedEye stride out onto the airfield.
Curious as to what was going on, as she’d just called the military complex looking for Alluro, after he said he was dropping by, and they’d told her to look out in the airfield, Chilla walked up next to him. “Is that RedEye?” she asked, squinting her eyes out the window. Alluro nodded an affirmative, and she eyed him inquisitively. “What’s he doing here?”
Her mate said nothing, and she frowned. Usually Alluro was all talk, and silence from him meant he was probably keeping a secret. They both watched RedEye’s ship skillfully lift off and ascend into the atmosphere. Once he was out of sight, Chilla turned Alluro around to face her. “Alluro, what’s going on?”
He gave her an apologetic look. “I can’t say,” he said simply, shrugging.
She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why not?”
“I was told not to.”
Chilla snorted. “By who? And since when do you do what you’re told?”
A faint smile crossed Alluro’s face. “It was Frostor, and you know I occasionally do as I’m asked.”
“And you can tell RedEye, Frostor, and Luna, but not me?” She raised an eyebrow and scowled icily.
Alluro sighed as he regarded her displeased expression. Chilla did not like being lied to, and he knew from experience that he’d get the proverbial cold shoulder from her until he told her, which, given the seriousness of the situation, was not something he wanted to spend his final days enduring. He slid his fingers around hers and pulled gently. “Come and take a walk with me, and don’t draw attention, no matter how shocked you may be at what I tell you.”
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