Hello, My Name is Imp

by Asher Tye

Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Imp, Hordak, the Horde or anything related to the Masters of the Universe/Princess of Power series. This is purely a work of fiction and is being done solely for the entertainment value alone.

Caution: This story flips between two points of view so it might become a little difficult to tell when you're looking at the world through the eyes of Hordak or of Imp.

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Chapter 3

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"ARGH!!" For what felt like the umpteenth billion time since he'd arrived on Bundarr almost three weeks earlier, Hordak felt like ripping every follicle of hair from his head, an impressive feat considering he didn't actually possess such adornments.

The Bundarr invasion was a disaster, and one of epic proportions, and it was one that was in the process of driving the Horde General crazy.

Hordak had read that Bundarr was a swamp world, but until he'd actually set his foot down upon the somewhat debatable terra firma of the planet, he had not truly comprehended what that meant. Closer to its native sun than standard planets, Bundarr was a very hot world that still managed to remain cool enough to retain liquid water, which it did in abundance. The entire surface, save for a few patches of far between ground, was saturated in water, eternally soggy and muddy. Even the coldest parts of the planet never saw temperatures below eighty degrees, which made the whole place a massive hot-house, a fact the indigenous plant life had taken full advantage of. Greenery was everywhere, dipping in and out of the pockets of standing water so frequently it was almost impossible in some places to tell where one plant ended and another began. Needless to say this made it difficult for those who did not know the boggy waters to navigate them. And because the plants were so saturated with water, they were proving extremely difficult to burn away, a task Hordak had found he'd been forced to make more of a defensive measure than an offensive one as he'd hoped. The sheer number of fast growing vines, ferns, and even soft tissue trees threatened to overwhelm the extremely rare large patch of dry land the previous commander had chosen to build his Fright Zone command center on. Never before had Hordak so venomously restated his hatred for plant life in all its forms.

As annoyingly omnipresent as the plants and water were, the animals of Bundarr were proving equally up to the task of being nuisances. The endless swampy hothouse was an exothermic paradise and, as always happened when such conditions existed; insects had risen to the occasion beautifully, in a manner of speaking. This meant bugs; hundreds, upon thousands, upon MILLIONS of bugs, each equipped with the ability to sting, bite, swarm, or some variation or combination thereof. And it wasn't merely small versions of the little buggers. Though Bundarr had nothing as big as the tank-sized Terrorsects of Ranger Seven, it did have several large species of insect that, if in a group, could easily overpower an unsuspecting Hordesman… and in some cases even the on guard ones.

As he swatted at one of the small, mosquito-like variants the planet had to offer, Hordak couldn't help but think he would have preferred dealing with Terrorsects. At least those he could shoot with cannons.

Of course, the wretched terrain of this wretched planet had also had an impact on troop deployment, one that Hordak's predecessor had apparently failed to take into account when he'd come. During the trip towards Bundarr, Hordak had been quite pleased to see that, amongst the vehicles listed with the original equipment supplied to the invasion force, there had been a listing for seven siege tanks. Fond memories had come to the Horde General as he envisioned those masterful pieces of machinery, in every way to the Horde ground forces what the Velvet Glove was to their space forces, save for being cheaper to produce than Horde Prime's beloved flagship.

Three powerful engines drove thick, rugged treads over any terrain, crushing obstacles as easily as a foot could crush a paper cup. Armor protected the tank and crew that was capable of repelling anything less than heavy particle projection cannon, sub-orbital lasers, or other such high powered guns that couldn't reasonably be defended against. Its own armaments included several antipersonnel guns designed for mowing down enemy soldiers, medium lasers for dealing with fast moving enemy vehicles, and one of the aforementioned PPCs mounted on its rotating turret. As if this was not enough firepower, the siege tanks could also change their form, transforming into a stationary artillery platform sporting a rail canon capable of hitting a target almost a thousand miles away with pinpoint accuracy. All this and it even came equipped with the sensor array needed to perform all these tasks. Oh yes, Hordak had smiled as he'd seen the listing. And then he'd seen Bundarr.

The soggy surface of the planet, an eternal bog, had proven far too soft for heavy weapons to move across for any stretch of distance before they needed to find one of the dry patches of land to keep from getting stuck. What that had meant for the ultra-heavy siege tanks was that they hadn't gotten more than a yard or two away from the Horde base camp before they'd become completely mired in the swamp. All three of those fabulous engines had become completely flooded, an astonishing thing considering that there were records of siege tanks traveling completely underwater for miles without problems. Ruined too were the transformation cogs, which meant that the powerful rail guns had been rendered completely useless. As Hordak had gazed at he semi-sunken pieces of Horde tech, it had perhaps been with a sense of nature's spite that one of the many small biting insects had decided to make its first introduction to the Horde General.

Thus it was that Hordak found himself forced to rely on his somewhat meager supply of Horde skimmers. Designed to transport troops and light equipment quickly, the skimmers were hovering crafts, and thus immune to the effects of the bog, but they weren't exactly equipped with direct combat in mind. One enterprising Horde engineer had begun stripping some of the lighter weapons from the sunken siege tanks to augment the skimmers' offensive abilities. It was such a clever idea that Hordak had decided not to spoil the boy's good mood by telling him he would most likely be punished by Horde Prime for his deed. Field engineers were not supposed to be able strip down such sophisticated pieces of equipment at will and reattach them to other vehicles.

&If we're successful, I'll throw him in a work camp for a few weeks,& Hordak thought to himself. &With any luck Horde Prime will consider the matter dealt with and Phargus will get away without needing to lose any appendages.&

"Sir!" a horde trooper cried as barged into Hordak's small command center, the specifics of the planet preventing anything grander.

"WHAT!" Hordak cried, perhaps a bit more harshly than he'd intended. The sweltering heat combined with the fact that he didn't dare removing his metallic armor with so many disease carrying insects around ready to attack exposed flesh kept him in a perpetually foul mood. It wasn't even all that smart to walk around without a helmet, actually, but the intense heat combined with Hordak's own boney head convinced the general he just couldn't do that.

"Squad six have returned. They've reported contact with the Bundarrin rebels," the trooper said, his own voice a tad harsher than was proper for a subordinate to speak to his commander. Under the circumstances, Hordak wasn't ready to get uptight about it.

"What's happened?"

"They lost a skimmer, but managed to freeze a few of the Bundarrins," the soldier responded. "The Sub-Commander is in the process of interrogating them for information as we speak."

"And this was important enough to disturb me because...?" For a few brief moments, the soldier simply stood there, unsure what to do, not at all an uncommon occurrence where the lower ranked members of the Horde were concerned. Deciding that a staring contest with this man would be an altogether TOO unproductive use of his time, Hordak decided it was best to acquiesce to whatever the trooper thought he was doing. "Very well, take me to the prisoners." So saying the general stood from his chair and followed the Hordesman out of the building. All about him, the Troopers, techs, and other members of his invasion force were milling about, attempting to complete whatever assignments they had been given under the oppressive, muggy heat. Bundarr's thrice cursed sun was slowly sinking into the western sky, heralding the coming of night and a very small, almost cruelly joking reprieve from the heat.

Soon Hordak and his guide came to another of the small structures the Horde had built within their compound, this one designed to function as a prison. Inside, iron bars indicated cells in which the captured members of the Bundarrin population were held when they were not being put to better use. A few Bundarrins were present, mainly those that could not be trusted yet to socialize with the other slaves without attempting to try a revolt. Such individuals were broken sooner or later, but the process tended to be somewhat bothersome in Hordak's opinion. Further inside the prison they came to what was passingly referred to as the interrogation room, inside of which Hordak found his Sub-Commander along with three Bundarrin prisoners.

Bundarrins were an ugly lot in Hordak's opinion, and these three were certainly no exception. Amphibious by nature and design, the creatures looked something like a cross between frogs and fish that had been granted the somewhat dubious ability to walk upright. Large, fin-like crests rested on their greenish, oblong heads, serving as rudders that helped them to steer when they were moving through the water, a skill their webbed hands and feet made them quite adept at. Bulbous eyes stuck out from their heads, while their mouths resembled jawless suckers that reminded Hordak of leeches. Skinny limbs and thin bodies gave them a gangly appearance though they were stronger than they appeared. Their skin, rather than being composed of scales like a fish, was a slimy, membranous hide coated in a generous amount of warts. If the information he'd received on their physiology was correct, one of the trio appeared to be a female, though Hordak would not have been willing to stake any sort of wager on that.

As he entered, Hordak took note that Klang had already begun attempting to coerce information from them, though he was dismayed to learn the lizardman had opted to skip straight to more drastic methods than simply asking. Presently his method included a sharp pair of scissors and the smaller of the two "male's" hand, the creature having been bound spread eagle to a wall. The sharp points of the instrument had already pierced the webbing between the hapless prisoner's fingers and the edges were poised around his center finger.

"Trust me, fishman," Klang said in a derogatory voice practically spitting the derisive name used by the Horde for the Bundarrins, "you don't want to pretend you're tough here. If you tell me what I want to know, I can almost guarantee you'll be able to live out the rest of this war whole and unmaimed."

"I'll tell you nothing, Horde scum," the Bundarrin said in the sucking, slobbery speech of a people who lacked actual jaws. Inwardly Hordak wished the Bundarrin had chosen to phrase his rejection of Klang's "generous" offer differently. Though the Horde General had no real problems with torture, he'd used it himself on any number of occasions to obtain the information he needed, there was a vast difference between what he'd done and the mean, cruel, and vicious practices Klang tended to employ. The Horde was in the business of conquering worlds in order to acquire resources, both living and otherwise, to fuel their ever expanding empire. Maimed and crippled slaves were useless to such a cause. Alas, if Hordak stopped the proceedings now, after that little show of defiance, all it would do would be to convince the Bundarrin he could say such things and get away with it.

&Such heroic nonsense,& Hordak thought as the scissors closed around the digit and the Bundarrin screamed. Without even pausing, Klang moved the scissors over to the next finger.

"Wait," Hordak said softly, now free to put a halt to these gruesome proceedings. Klang looked at his commander with a questioning gaze, his gauntlet covered fingers quivering ever so slightly. While the lizard-like Hordesman had been preoccupied with enjoying the agony of his victim, who even now held tears in his eyes as he looked upon the bloody stump sitting on his hand, Hordak had watched something else. The other two Bundarrins had, predictably, struggled against their bonds as the Klang had proceeded with his forced amputation, determined to save their friend from his fate. When the screaming had started, both had stopped, their heads bowed and their eyes downcast as they refused to gaze at the comrade they had failed. Or so it had seemed. Hordak's red within red eyes had caught the furtive look the two had shot to each other, worry etched in their faces, and he had understood.

These two were a mated pair, or whatever such term passed as the equivalent for these Bundarrins.

&Trust Klang to overlook such a fact in favor of getting to pick on the runt,& Horde Prime's brother thought with a snort. There was such a thing as being too enthusiastic after all. &Now, how to play this?&

"Lord Hordak, did you have a command?" the impatient lizard asked. Solemnly, purposefully, Hordak trod into the room properly, his footsteps even and measured to display his utter importance. He went, not to the two Bundarrins he had just identified a weakness for, but to the younger one who still hung from the wall like so many decorations. A critical eye was given to the youngster, the eye of one who knew many things about many things and had the ability to judge them all. Some of the pain and shock from losing his finger subsiding, the young one looked back at Hordak, perhaps trying to think of some suitably defiant act to perform in the presence of the supreme commander of the Bundarrin Horde. Before he could make this futile gesture however, Hordak chose that moment to speak.

"My but you're a young one," he said, an eyebrow rising as he looked the fishy creature square in the eye. "Yes, I'd say you're barely away from being an actual guppy, aren't you?" After years of dealing with countless snotty brats out to prove themselves, he knew exactly what words would push their buttons. As if on cue, this particular brat's face grew red and cross, simultaneously angry at being insulted, and humiliated he'd been called out.

"I'm old enough to fight!" came the sucking, sloppy, and indignant response. Hordak allowed himself a soft chuckle, more for this boy's benefit than anything else. More warts turned red. Oh he had hit a nerve, most definitely.

"Horde training begins at age thirteen, guppy, I'm not debating your ability to fight," Hordak snorted, "I'm debating your ability to lead." Hordak smiled a nasty derisive smile that showed off every one of his sharp teeth in his rigid, boney mouth. "I don't think you know anything; you're a grunt, told only the basics that any idiot can guess about your mission and your group…" At this point Hordak turned around to face the two other Bundarrins. "But you two, being older, probably have all sorts of information."

"Don't tell him anything!" the youth yelled before Hordak's heavy hand grabbed his sucker lips, a smile on his face. The young were so predictable these days.

"So now we've established two important facts," Hordak said, casting a grin back towards the bound youth, "there is something to know, and your friends know it." The guppy's eyes widened as he realized he'd been the one to say this. "Klang, I have no more use for this guppy," Hordak said with great finality. Now that he'd set up the scenario, he needed to remove all belief he might bluff. Responding to the commands hidden between the lines of Hordak's speech, Klang rubbed his silvery spiked gauntlet, making a vicious swipe at the bound Bundarrin. Sharp edges cut not only the shirt the creature was wearing but the flesh too, leaving a jagged scar the length of his body. The cut was not deep, a surgeon of passing skill could easily have mended it and Klang's victim might have been walking around the next day, albeit with a whole bunch of stitches. As the green liquid that coated the blades of Klang's gauntlet, courtesy of the hoses connecting them to a pack on his back, indicated, this was anything but a normal wound.

Poison, potent and lethal, had been introduced to the guppy's system. Almost immediately the stricken Bundarrin's body began to convulse, though not as harshly as a certain wingrat of which Hordak knew. Spittle began to escape his sucker; not surprising considering this particular poison, according to Klang, was a neurotoxin. Within minutes it was over, and the body hung limply from its place on the wall.

"Monster!" the male screamed, as the female stoically kept silent, this in and of itself offering information to the tyrannical general.

&The female is the more committed, the more hardened. She'll be the more difficult one to break.&

"Now then," Hordak began in an almost friendly voice, "let's discuss what you know of your rebel friends."

"Do what you will Hordak we will tell you nothing," the female said.

"I wasn't planning on asking you," Hordak replied as he snapped his fingers. Two Horde interrogators wheeled in a large table that looked suspiciously like a tanning bed. "I am well aware of your species prodigious ability to regenerate lost limbs, so we'll forgo any attempts to cut the information from you," he continued as the female Bundarrin was strapped to the table. "Tell me, though, are you familiar with a dry, dry little desert world called Mojave?" Hordak smiled.

& & & & & & & & & &

It was only a few minutes later that Hordak stepped out of the prison, the sound of wailing in the background, very confident that soon he would know everything his new guests knew about their rebel friends. Once more the oppressive heat hit the Horde General, and he found himself renewing his private wish to leave this miserable world.

"Lord Hordak," came a gruff voice and Hordak turned to see his resident field commander Octavia. Born of the ocean world of Octopon, Octavia's natural physiology made her and her people natural choices for this mission, a fact that had caused Hordak to commandeer her services from a space fleet that was using her for patrols. The Admiral had not been pleased with Hordak's outright theft of his minions, but as neither Octavia nor Hordak had been pleased with this apparent squandering of the octopons' abilities, there was little he could do. Horde Prime was not known to forgive being bothered for petty squabbling amongst his servants.

"What is it Octavia?" Hordak asked, again a little more gruffly than he probably would have wanted to, though in this case it was somewhat justified. Octavia stood before him, her green skin and red hair visible thanks to a Horde uniform that left her arms, legs, and even shoulders bare. Her skin was naturally coated in a slime residue that not only deterred Bundarr's insectoid inhabitants from trying to make a meal of her, it also kept said insects from clouding about her by acting as a repellant. Thus it was that the Octopons were also amongst the most "popular" troops in Hordak's army, since being in their presence meant relief from the constant insect irritation.

As he gazed at the Horde naval officer, Hordak couldn't help but feel an intense jealously well up in his gut.

"I came to inform you that the rebels have seeded more of the underwater passages with their red tide water. We're going to need get more chemicals to purify the water with if you expect my forces to be able to use those tunnels again." Hordak scowled. He was familiar with red tide, algae in such great quantities that they literally choked the waters in toxins and waste products. The Bundarrins used the cursed plants, against whose detrimental effects they were mostly immune, as a last ditch guardian against Horde pursuit. On the one hand, Hordak admired such a ruthless tactic, as this could easily spread the deadly algae all over the planet's waterways and cause untold of harm to their own planet. On the other, the red tide was just one more way this planet had to slow the Horde's conquest down.

"We're running low on the chemicals needed," he informed Octavia. "I don't want to have to use any of our remaining supply on passages that lead nowhere. Is there anyway to find out how important these passages are?"

"Not without sonar scanners, and the rebels keep destroying the portable ones. And the bigger ones just aren't up to the task of dealing with Bundarr."

"Like everything else around here," Hordak growled through gritted teeth. "Use the chemicals, clear away the tide, but I want something to come out of this Octavia. I don't care if it's the scrawniest group of slaves ever seen, I want something to come out of this or ELSE!!"

"I'll do my best, Lord Hordak," the octopon said with a hard edge to her voice. Though she did not like being threatened, there was little she could do about it given not only that Hordak was her superior officer, but he was also much more powerful than she. Thus it was that she would most likely take out her frustration on any rebels she happened to come across as she worked to clear the passages. Bowing very slightly, Hordak's Field Commander left. Huffing gruffly, Hordak too turned on his heel, making way for his quarters. The day was almost over, and he still had work to do if the Horde was going to engage the Bundarrin resistance the next day.

His quarters were nowhere near as grand as he was used to, thanks in no small part to the limited amount of work that could be done completing this Horde city and turning it into a proper Fright Zone. It was little more than a three roomed hut made of iron and concrete, but it did have the bonus of being one of the only fully climate controlled structures in this compound.

As cooled, dry air struck his face; Hordak breathed a sigh of relief, released from the oppressive temperatures outside. A servant had brought his evening repast, which sat under a silver covering at his table, and next to it, a computer pad, no doubt holding all the documents he needed to look over before he took his slumber. It was a difficult decision; eat now or get the final parts of his day done, a decision made all the more difficult by the fact that he looked forward to neither. The smell that wafted up to his nostrils as he lifted the silver covering reminded him vehemently why.

To his credit, the cook had done the best he could. He had seasoned and cooked, and decorated this food with every trick he'd probably known, and even a few he might have created himself just from being here, but there was no way to disguise the fact that these were Horde field rations at best. Bundarr's ecosystem promoted the growth of every type of mold, bacteria, and other disgusting decomposer known to ruin all but the best preserved foods. There was a massive and ever growing refuse pile at the other end of this… "Fright Zone" wherein literally tons of previously edible food had been dumped as the harsh climate swiftly turned them to nothing more than spore farms for fungi. Thus the Horde forces had been forced to subsist on the most heavily preserved foods brought with them, or try their hand at living off the bounty of the liquid land. As he thought about some of the animals and vegetables he'd seen in that area that had been able at survive this Fright Zone's negative impact on the environment, Hordak decided the rations were better.

&And even those are beginning to dry up,& the irritated Horde General thought. &Those supply ships better make it here on time, or I'll use their captains for target practice. I've had enough roughing it against hostile alien forces.&

As he sat down, a fork in one hand and the computer pad in the other, a knock sounded at his door, indicating someone desired to invade his privacy.

"Enter," he commanded, keeping his eyes on the door and his hands at the ready for a fight. Twice now Bundarrins had successfully infiltrated the Fright Zone in an attempt to assassinate the Horde Commander and, though the would-be assassins were dealt with easily and those responsible had been punished severely, Hordak still found such exercises annoying. As it turned out, it was not a Bundarrin assailant, but the quartermaster. Immediately the Hordesman saluted his commander, careful not to drop the clipboard. His weapon was missing from his side, a precaution against him doing anything overly stupid if he got into a rebellious mood. "Can't you see I'm trying to eat? What is it?"

"Sir, I wanted to let you know the modifications on the skimmers have been completed. They should be ready for tomorrow's attack."

"And the batniks? I would much prefer not to enter this combat without some form of air support. Evil knows the Bundarrins have plenty of water support."

"The batniks are ready but they can only take off a few at a time. Space on the airfield is limited as you know." At this Hordak grimaced.

"Is there anything we have that HASN'T been limited?!"

"Dysentery…?" the quartermaster asked, causing Hordak's crimson eyes to narrow. If he was trying to be humorous, he was striking a very bad chord with his overlord.

"Were I not so tired, Hordesman, I would blast you into atoms for saying such a thing."

"My apologies Mighty One, I…"

"Skip the platitudes; what else do you have to report…. And make it snappy!"

"Yes… The toxicity levels of the Fright Zone and the surrounding area… have remained unchanged since your arrival…" At this point the quartermaster held up his clipboard, perhaps hoping the flimsy wood would protect him from Hordak's wrath.

"WHAT?!" Hordak bellowed. It had long been the policy of the evil Horde to wage a direct assault not only on the people of the planets they were conquering, but on their very environment itself. Fright Zones were exceptionally bad for whatever neighborhood they were erected in, killing plants, despoiling the water and soil, and fouling the air until the surrounding area was as much like Hordeworld as possible. The reason for this was two-fold, three if you counted Horde Prime's sadistic sense of joy. The sight of their world being so ruthlessly and swiftly destroyed was a terrific way to demoralize the local population; an abject lesson in the power of the Horde. It also gave the Hordesmen the home field advantage in the unlikely, but still viable, event that they had to fight a defensive war. Even a Fright Zone of this size and lack of completion should have been able to transform this wretched, thriving swamp into a toxic wasteland.

"I have sent the data to the Horde's best scientists for analysis, but…"

"WHAT!?" Hordak raged. "How dare you do something like that?! And without my permission no less."

"I just thought…"

"Thought what? That Horde Command should be informed that we not only aren't able to defeat the Bundarrins, but that we've made a substandard Fright Zone as well?! Need I remind you that all of our necks are in nooses at this point? If Horde Prime believes we aren't capable of handling this invasion, he'll slaughter us all!"

"I… I did not think my lord," the quartermaster said.

"Get out, get out of my sight," Hordak yelled. "I don't want to see you again until tomorrow's battle." To punctuate this command, the Horde General's arm transformed into a cannon. Noting his imminent peril, the Quartermaster's eyes grew wide and he ran. "And tell all others I do not wish to be disturbed!" Hordak bellowed after him, firing a blind shot out through the open door that managed not to hit anyone. Confident his wishes would be obeyed, Hordak sat back down to ponder this new mystery. What in the universe could hold back the toxic effects of a Fright Zone?

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As night settled over the Fright Zone, and the Horde Troopers began to set up for their patrols to keep the Bundarrins from sneaking up on them, someone else was beginning to stir.

Had Hordak's mind not been so cluttered with the myriad of problems his new command had presented him with, he might have remembered that he alone knew of something that could not only hold the toxic poisons of the Fright Zone at bay, but would thrive on such an activity. Of course this would have left the Horde General pondering just how he was accomplishing such a task.

Inside the cockpit of one of the sunken siege tanks Imp, registering the sinking of the sun by some ancient instinct all nocturnal creatures seemed to possess, woke up, stretching his small, pudgy body to banish the last traces of sleep. Suddenly, a look came to his face as he reached a hand up to his shirt collar and pulled it open, looking down at his blue chest. A look of delighted surprise came over him as he reached down and pulled free a fat leech he promptly dropped into his mouth, swallowing it loudly with a satisfied grin. Other leeches lay near him, all dead after having made the fatal mistake of trying to drink of his poisonous blood. Present too were a pillow and blanket, pilfered from the Horde Supply Shed for his own use. Unlike the nest he'd had back on Hordeworld, however, there were no toys present, no he could amuse himself with, save for the controls to the powerless siege tank, and Imp was not stupid enough to give himself a way in such a way. This was not actually a problem, as the planet Bundarr was providing all the entertainment the little demon boy could handle.

Unlike Hordak, who found the wet mire and slime somewhat less than habitable to be in, Imp was loving every minute of being in the swamp. The noxious fumes and rampant decay suited the little imp quite well, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why the Horde Troopers complained so much about the rampant bug life, most of which tended to leave the little interloper alone.

Slowly Imp opened the hatch of the siege tank that led outside, poking his piggish snout out from under it just enough to allow his yellow eyes to take a look. The familiar figures of Horde Troopers standing guard around the perimeter of the base greeted him, and, just as Hordak himself had taught him, Imp quickly took stock of where they were looking. Imp's coloration allowed him to take advantage of the murky darkness of the swamp, but he was still not all that keen about someone accidentally mistaking him for a native and shooting. Once satisfied that no one was looking in his general direction, the implet slipped quietly out of his nest and down the slick side of the tank, his wings folded tightly against his back. As his snout entered the water, heedless of the pipeline that was dumping gallons of a thick greenish brown sludge into the water, he underwent a transformation, becoming a serpent. The cool, toxic water felt so good on this hot night, scaled lips lifted in a smile as Imp moved carefully around the edge of dry land the Horde had set itself up on. Though he wore the form of a serpent, the boy had lost none of his normal senses and yellow eyes cast about into the trees where had been set up more surveillance equipment.

&Place is a fortress,& he thought, the same thought he'd had every night since he'd stowed away on Hordak's transport. He'd yet to reveal himself to Hordak though. Given how they'd parted company on Hordeworld, and the fact that Hordak had apparently made no attempt to contact him after they'd made that deal, had gotten the boy questioning whether or not the tyrant lord had lost interest in him. It had been sheerest impulse that had led the boy to stow away on the transport, and then on the cruiser that had taken them here. And Hordak had made no move to contact him, even if it would have been somewhat impossible.

Children's minds don't often consider such trivialities as feasibility when they think of what should happen, and for a boy who was at his base a selfish person like Imp, this was doubly true. And, truth be told, it hurt that Hordak could be so willing to sing Imp's praises, call him a special creature, give him special treatment, and then so casually discard him. And so, as the ship had landed, he'd decided to strike out on his own, prove that the severing of their relationship had been Hordak's loss, not his.

Only he hadn't left.

He'd fully intended to, of course. To disappear into the endless swamp of this world, live amongst the muck and mire and slime that felt so nice had been his plan. But instead, he'd slipped into the siege tank and had been living there ever since. Were he more disposed to internal soul searching, Imp might have wondered what was keeping him here if he was no longer interested in getting Hordak's attention, but of course this was not the case.

Slowly the imp/snake slithered up onto dry land, careful to avoid the sights of the guards. Having never been exposed to snakes before, Imp was currently mimicking one of the specimens found in the swamp itself, a poisonous kind that had taken the lives of quite a few unwary Horde Troopers. Hence why they tended to shoot first and dump bodies into the water. Gathering his coils about himself tightly, Imp shifted back into his proper form, flying swiftly and quietly through the night to the giant garbage pile wherein the cook had dumped the food that had been spoiled by the damp and hot atmosphere, as well as the leftovers judged too worthless even for the slaves. Crawling into a fetid pile of refuse, Imp greedily began to eat, taking great pleasure in a green ham that lay half buried.

As he rooted around, digging out the rancid piece of meat, voices suddenly came to his bat like ears. His time on the street as well as Hordak's training made it almost an automatic reaction for him to shimmy further into the pile, hiding himself from the interlopers.

"Klang," a voice whined as a Horde Trooper wearing the markings of a Quartermaster walked up to the pile, doing his best to cover the air intake of his helmet, "why exactly did we have to meet in such a place as this? My nose feels like it is about to fall off."

"Because, you little weakling, I'm not all that keen on someone finding out about this meeting, and this place seems the least likely for us to be… interrupted," the same lizardman Imp had seen in the Horde Armory said, Klang if he remembered correctly. "Is it ready?"

"I have prepared the skimmers just as you requested Klang, but…"

"But me no buts Quartermaster," Klang said irritably. "This will be a glorious battle."

"Yes but for whose side? Hordak never gave you permission to make these modifications..."

"Hordak is a non-issue as far as I am concerned." At Klang's words, Imp's eyes widened as he knelt further into the refuse pile to conceal himself. "Our foolish former commander lacked the vision needed to make this invasion work, and Hordak is only barely holding on now."

"Do you know what could happen to you if someone heard you talking like that Klang?"

"Nothing if everything goes like I hope tomorrow," the snakeman said. "Now get some sleep, I'll need your help tomorrow, and I won't be interesting in any excuses." So saying Klang and the Quartermaster parted company. As they left, Imp's head emerged from the refuse pile. From the sounds of those two's conversation, there was going to be a battle tomorrow, one Klang expected to win easily. A grin came to Imp's face. He'd seen fighting before while he'd been living on Hordeworld. Though the general population was completely under the thumb of the Horde military, that didn't mean said population was always able to get along well internally. Too many people crowded into one place, especially in a culture that tended to reward the more aggressive and violent of its members, meant there were always fights breaking out.

But, as far as battles went, Imp had never seen an actual one in all his short life. Oh the Horde news network was forever playing recordings of Horde victories in the field to be sure. These were cut up clips of battles, edited to show the military as an unbeatable and invincible fighting force. Imp had watched those videos when he could, and he was enthralled. It was like watching a million fights going on all at once. Somewhere deep inside the boy, a feral desire to see battle.

&So what do I do?& he asked himself. Imp had been planning to spend the night in the shape of a fish or other aquatic animal and continue his exploration of the underwater caves that honeycombed the planet, maybe even find some more of those tasty eggs that were always surrounded by the red tinted water. But now…

If he wanted to watch the battle, get a good seat for the show as it were, he couldn't stay up all night. A big part of the reason he hadn't seen much of Hordak's attempts to conquer this world was because he tended to be asleep. His wings beginning to flap, Imp made his choice.

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Batniks, release your torpedoes," Hordak yelled into the console of the Skimmer he rode upon. Above him, a squadron of five bat shaped fighter planes released silvery tubes into the water, mere feet ahead of their Horde comrades. Once in the water, the torpedoes raced towards the fortified Bundarrin camp. Though two were taken out by the tangled roots of the indigenous water plants, the remaining three struck home. Though the Bundarrin resistance was well suited to their environment, they were nowhere near as disciplined as the Horde Troopers. The fish-like creatures dove for the perceived safety of the water as the explosive projectiles slammed into the walls of their semi-submerged fortifications. "Troopers!!" Hordak called, summoning forth a hail of laserfire from the assembled skimmers, as well as the little two man jet skis that sat on the surface of the water. A grunt of approval came from the general as he watched the body count rise; rebels fought bravely for their causes, but that didn't mean they were fearless.

"Sir, incoming bogie!" the trooper monitoring sonar yelled. As if on cue, one of the precious skimmers in Hordak's ramshackle fleet rocked as it was struck by a Bundarrin warrior. A small wake could be seen racing away from the damaged craft, a clear sign of the presence of one of those wretched nose-divers. The Horde had long ago learned they didn't have a monopoly on good ideas when it came to technology. This wasn't to say their military hardware was not top notch, but generals were always on the lookout for new toys to play with, and the one man subwater vehicles the Bundarrins used to harass his troops had caught Hordak's eyes. Those same eyes, enhanced in vision thanks to the nanites in his blood, scowled as he saw beneath the surface of the water. The clunky aquatic equipment the Horde Troopers were forced to use made them no match for the swifter and better armed nose-diver as it zipped through their ranks, and the sharp tipped spears fired from their guns merely bounced off the armor that protected the fishy pilot.

"Fire depth charges," Hordak called as several explosive canisters no bigger than grenades were thrown over the side of the skimmer and sank in the water. Bundarrin vision was not very good and, with any luck, the pilot wouldn't notice one of the charges and it would catch him. No longer able to give his exclusive attention to this endeavor, Hordak once more turned back to the battle at hand.

& & & & & & & & &

From his vantage point aboard his own skimmer, Klang watched as Hordak's ship tossed the explosives, no doubt to destroy a nose-diver. The lizardman shook his head in disbelief, not only for how poorly the Bundarrins used their only real advantage against the Horde, but for how poorly Hordak was able to defend against them.

"Were I in charge, these rotten fish would be fried in nothing flat," he mumbled to himself, careful to make sure none of his subordinates heard what essentially was treason coming from his mouth.

"For Bundarr!" screamed a voice a native fighter leapt up onto Klang's skimmer, waving a cutlass as he charged at the Horde sub-commander in what he no doubt thought to be a heroic charge. Though defeating this delusional freedom fighter would have been child's play for someone such as Klang, it was also unnecessary as the highly trained Hordesmen who stood with him opened fire and fairly obliterated his attacker. The force of the combined laser blasts were enough to send the native flying back over the side of the boat and into the water below.

"Fool," Klang spat.

"Sir, squad eight is encountering some heavy resistance," a Horde Trooper told his leader.

"From what, these bubble-heads couldn't fight their way out of paper bags?" Klang responded.

"Squad leader says they've managed to dig themselves in with what appear to be stolen Horde squid mines." Immediately Klang's back went rigid.

"Contact Hordak, we'll request to send in two skimmers. With any luck they can remotely detonate those mines without risking any of our troopers."

"Yes sir," the Trooper obeyed as he entered in the appropriate commands.

"What is it?" came the grumpy, snorting voice of Hordak.

"Sir, request permission to send two of our skimmers to clear out a rebel entrenchment."

"Oh for the love of… Permission granted Klang, now don't bother me unless it's something important. You're my second, use your own judgment you supercilious snake." Klang's scales bristled at that comment.

&Oh just you wait you arrogant…&

"As you command, Lord Hordak." The communications channel was closed. "Hordesman, radio skimmers two and seven, direct them to the squad's location."

"Yes sir."

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Man, who would have thought a real battle would be so… boring," Imp complained to himself as he sat in the relative safety of a tree, well away from where the actual battle was taking place. He'd stowed away aboard one of the skimmers in order to get a free ride out here, and then promptly hidden himself in safety. Curious he was, but not a fool. And yet, as he watched the larger skimmers and their smaller jet skis move over the surface of the water, only occasionally meeting up with some of the Bundarrins who were willing to fight them at the water's surface, he couldn't help but feel this was a colossal waste of time.

"Where's all the shooting, the fighting, the battle?" the mini-demon asked of no one in particular, not overly realizing that most of the action was taking place under the water where, in his current form and vantage point, he couldn't see it. What he could see, however, was Hordak, standing aboard his skimmer, looking very angry about something as he looked down into the water.

&Serves him right,& the petulant boy thought, still just a little upset over Hordak's apparent abandonment of him back on Hordeworld. That was when the little demon's eyes finally cast about the seemingly still water… only to see that it wasn't so still. Something, three somethings in fact, were racing towards the flotilla, and leaving small wakes in the watery plain. Two of the streaks split off, heading for different targets, but the third continued straight for a few more feet before disappearing as its creator dove deeper into the water. Curious now, Imp spread his wings and began to fly; leaving his hiding spot though he remained in the shadows cast by the dense vegetation.

& & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Blast it you fools, don't let them get under you!" Hordak bellowed as he watched his aquatroopers beneath the surface of the water getting out-maneuvered by the Bundarrins. Though they were by no means being beaten, the Bundarrins simply did not have the same overwhelming power the Horde had, they were taking more losses than were necessary, a dangerous theme considering Hordak did not have the resources to spare.

"Sir, Octavia says she and her squad has taken the fortress," a comm-trooper announced.

"Finally, some good news," Hordak grunted. "Tell her to disrupt whatever remote defenses these fish people have here. And see if she can't get an inactive sample of that Red Water of theirs."

"As you command sir."

"HORDAK!!" came a defiant yell as a huge shadow suddenly appeared in the water, indicating something very big was there as well. All the skimmers suddenly began to rock as a massive deep green beast arose from the depths, a Bundarrin wearing a now soaked body wrap and a circlet on his head. "I will not allow you to take our land from us!" he howled in indignation. "The Horde has no claim to our world! Leave now or be destroyed." A tentacle, the same color as the beast it was attached to, rose out of the water and wrapped itself around one of the skimmers, crushing the light craft like a tin can.

"All units, open fire!" Hordak commanded as the guns of his ships were trained on the monster. "Kill that creature. Take the rider alive if you can." Blasts from the lasers shot forward and, much to the Horde General's dismay, did little damaged against the tough, rubbery skin of the beast. There were burn marks to be sure, but if the watery monster was hurt by them, he showed no signs.

"It will take more than that to hurt a garlak, Hordak," the circlet wearing Bundarrin taunted as he drew a laser rifle that looked like it had been pilfered from the Horde's own supply. Though his movements said he was unfamiliar with the weapon, the Bundarrin's current position gave him a great deal of advantage over his opponents.

Laser fire rained down from the beast as the Bundarrin began a one fishman assault on the Horde surface forces.

"Klang!" Hordak yelled, pointing at the monstrosity that was attacking him. "Take out that monster at all costs!!"

& & & & & & &

"Take out that monster at all costs!!" yelled Hordak's voice over the speakers of Klang's skimmer. A smile came to the reptile's face as he began waving the skimmers of his flotilla to surround the monster-beast, trying to keep it from selecting a good target.

"Sir, since our lasers have little effect individually, it might be a better idea to concentrate our fire…"

"If I wanted your opinion, peon, I would have given it to you," Klang said as he stabbed the hapless Trooper who had spoken out of turn. "We're doing this my way."

&And then I can proceed with my plans.&

"Inform Lord Hordak that we're going to confuse the beast. A mount that big, its rider can't possibly keep it under control AND fire upon us."

& & & & & & &

Hordak's eyes narrowed as he watched the reckless moves his Sub-Commander was making. It would have been an excellent stratagem, if they'd had enough skimmers to actually work it. As it stood, the only reason the tentacled beast wasn't destroying the Horde craft attacking it was because its rider was too afraid to commit to such an action, no doubt envisioning the Horde had some horrific reason for doing such a foolish trick.

&A stupid bluff, backed only by the fact that we're the most fearsome fighting force in the galaxy,& Hordak thought, &this is what I am reduced to.& The general cast a careful eye back to the rear of his own ship where, unbeknownst to most of his forces, save his own crew, he'd had one of the heavy weapons from the Siege Tanks installed. It was cumbersome, made his own craft slower and more power-consuming than most, but it was an unforeseen advantage where his enemy was concerned. And for a man who favored power and cunning to speed and stealth that was the appeal.

"Prepare to fire the PPC," he told his gun crew, each of whom saluted to him. Slowly the Skimmer's engine was prepped, its power output rerouted towards the cannon. It was at that point that four of the stoutest Horde Troopers under Hordak's command slide their hands under the cannon's barrel, ready to lift and aim it, a precarious job considering they could easily be vaporized by the exiting pulse of energy. Still, as any trooper will tell you, a mere chance at death easily defeated its certainty, which would be the punishment for disobeying orders. With a heave and grunt, the Troopers hefted the barrel, aiming it as best they could at the monster's body.

Behind them, at the controls of the cannon, a Horde tech was fighting the control panel as he worked to get the cannon to fire.

"Any day now," one of the lifters called irritably back to the technician. The barrel began to take on a blue glow to it as the energy pulse began to build.

"Keep it steady," the technician howled back, watching as the cannon's computer was finding it near impossible to get a lock on its target. With a thunderous roar, a bright blue sphere of energy surged forward from the PPC and launched towards the octopus like creature. The rider's eyes widened in fear as he saw blue death rising up for him, only to be deafened by the howl of pain of his mount. The blast from the PPC had not hit its mark, but it had managed to pass close enough to the creature that much of the rubbery skin on the side of its body was burned away.

"You idiots," Hordak yelled. "How could you miss at this range?!"

"We're sorry sir," the lifters said. "The cannon just got too hot and we..."

"I don't want to hear it," Hordak yelled as he saw the monster's attention now come to focus on his own ship, an enemy that had been identified as capable of hurting it. "Get the cannon ready to fire again."

"It will take a few moments sir," the technician yelled. Hordak gazed up at the three large tentacles that were beginning to descend upon his craft.

"You have seconds," he said as his arm transformed into a cannon of his own and he began to shoot at the tentacles, valiantly trying to keep the beast from crushing his boat. More lasers joined him as the crewman also worked to protect their craft. "Spread your fire out! Don't bother trying to blow off one tentacle or the other two will get through!"

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Klang had watched the particle projection cannon fire its shot, most amazed Hordak had managed to get his little toy running. The lizardman had not believed that the skimmer had enough energy to successfully power such a weapon. And now Hordak was apparently trying to for a second shot as the squid-like beast closed in on his craft.

"Klang, use your weapons to draw the monster's attention off of Lord Hordak," Octavia said from the water below. Klang frowned at the aquatic woman.

"And have him attack my ship as well?" Klang called back. "Hordak can at least defend himself with that cannon, if that thing attacked us…"

"ARRGH! Cowardly male," Octavia said as she dove back under the water, no doubt to try and keep the rest of the creature from being brought to bear. A nasty smile crossed Klang's face as he stroked a small bulge in one of his pockets.

&Insolent witch… you shall be the first I deal with once I assume command of the Horde.& A new blue light began to build aboard Hordak's skimmer, drawing Klang's eyes away as he waited for his chance.

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Sir, we're ready to fire," the tech called as the PPC began to glow and the Horde strongmen lifted it once more.

"What are you waiting for you buffoon, FIRE!" Once more a blast of blue light exploded from the barrel. This time the blast found its mark, tearing into the side of the giant monster and ripping away various pieces of its anatomy. The creature sounded a howl of agony as its remaining tentacles waved in terror, its body swaying left and right, back and forth as its viscera fell from its wound. The blast of the cannon had also managed to catch the rider's arm, and the Bundarrin too howled in pain and terror as he lost control of his mount. Immediately Hordak's eyes widened as he saw which way the monster was getting ready to topple.

"Get the power back to the skimmer," he commanded. "Get us out of here before we're crushed."

"I'm trying sir, but the system's already taxed thanks to having to fire the gun twice," the technician lamented as the console before him sparked and smoked. Despite the danger the technician continued to work the controls, trying to reverse the previous rerouting of the power he had done. Suddenly he looked up. "Sir, the power couplings are failing…"

"Well, override them!" Hordak commanded.

"I'm trying, but we're suffering a cascade… AHH!" This was the last sound the technician made as the console exploded, showering him with metal and fire. The skimmer began to shake violently as below its deck similar explosions were also occurring. Hordak cast a glance up at the octopoid monster, a mound of flesh that whose death throws were nearly at an end.

"Abandon ship," Hordak ordered, knowing full well the craft was no longer able to be saved. All around him Horde Troopers moved to escape certain death, ready to take their chances in the waters below where their comrades could rescue them. Hordak possessed a far more reliable way to escape certain destruction, and pressed the button at his belt-buckle that would teleport him to his secondary command craft.

& & & & & & & & &

The smile on his face never fading, Klang watched the dying craft begin its own convulsions, rocked by the explosions taking place aboard it. Reptilian eyes could make out the shape of Hordak as he moved to a safe spot on the ship, knowing full well what the Horde General intended to do. Reaching into one of the pouches on his waist, careful not to knick himself with his own deadly blades, Klang pulled forth a small one button remote.

&Let's see if that fool Quartermaster got this right,& was all the lizardman thought as he pushed the button.

& & & & & & & & & &

Hordak pushed the teleport button, preparing himself for the semi-unpleasant feeling of dematerialization that would soon follow. Rather than the sensation of being converted into energy for instantaneous transport, however, a different sensation filled him. Immediately it felt as if he'd just become heavier as his muscles locked hard, a clear signal something was most definitely wrong. Had his transport module been damaged somehow during the battle? Fear gripped the general as he struggled to move his limbs, knowing full well that if he succumbed to that fear he was a dead man.

Slowly, his limbs feeling as though they weighed a ton each, Hordak tried to move towards the side of the skimmer. The rumbling of the explosions, however, proved enough to throw the overlord off his feet. His teeth gritting in determination, Hordak crawled, hand over hand. Nothing else mattered but survival now, he'd deal with anyone who chose to make light of his humiliation…

&Come on Hordak, move, move,& he berated himself. &I am not going to die in this miserable place.&

"ROOOOOOR!!" came the final screams of the monster as its broken body made contact with the skimmer. Hordak's eyes widened as a thick tentacle came toppling down upon him, pinning his body to the deck of the craft…

& & & & &

For a few brief moments, all within the swamp was silent.

Then the deafening roar of several loud explosions could be heard, sounding off like a massive salute to the passing of some great warrior, after which, silence once more prevailed.

And, if one's ears were good enough, one might also be able to hear the soft sound of a lizard chuckling…

To be continued…