The Wonder Worlock: Planet of Plunder, Part 1
Posted by: Byron Brewer, Managing Editor
January 15, 2013 11:36 | Updated: 18 weeks 1 day Ago
January 15, 2013 11:36 | Updated: 18 weeks 1 day Ago
(Cover by Jason Hiechel and Jasmin Steele)
PART THE FIRST
Life has not been easy for the Criptonan blonde beauty called Prima Dona. Although leader of the vaunted Star Blazers, royal army of Emperor Traven of this Threlkellian dimension, she lives day to day knowing that whenever one from this kingdom sees her, they are reminded of her heritage and the traitorous acts of the Criptonans during the Great Solar Wars and the world’s subsequent destruction by Threlkel and its allies via boom darts – live nuclear bombs.
Training her fellow heroes is one task she has been given by the ruler of Olympia, this dimension’s most powerful telepath Zavar, and First Citizen and Sorcerer Supreme, the Wonder Worlock. Truly, it is a task she can enjoy as she immerses herself in combat, participatory and teaching, while the weight of the world – actually another world from a separate reality – pulls her spirit down even as her mentors brag to the kings of the Imperium about her success.
Months ago the SBs defeated a destructive plan of the rogue scientist Java Lyn and, with the aid of the Wonder Worlock’s quantum magicks and the mysterious stone of the SB Prism, a growing world from a tiny reality named Microsha was placed opposite Olympia’s obit around its sun, Helios.
And guess what? It came packed with a people all its own, the Subatomics: simple-minded folk who crave attention and are glad to be slaves to do someone’s bidding. They are fast workers and very smart in a construction-kind of way.
And they are all under my care, MYcare! Dona thinks, her hair and cape both flapping in the desert wind of the new world (well, new to the Threlkellian dimension at least). I want to create a world, but I am a warrior. I want to show these people that being a slave is a bad thing, but I need them to follow me, obey me – like a slave! What is the matter with this picture?
The wind goes cold and one of the Subatomics – she does not know if it be woman or man, since they are hard to define, although there is a sexual difference – hands Dona a homespun shawl.
“Thank you, my friend,” Dona says and, to her utter surprise, the Subatomic, be it man or woman, attempts to answer, the first attempt at any verbal communication by any of these beings.
“Yel-cooomb,” it says. “Yoo yel-cooomb.”
“By the Emperor’s Sword! You said, ‘You’re welcome,’ didn’t you?!”
“Yoo yel-cooomb” it repeats, and Dona and the Subatomic embrace, and both cry. Whether the Subatomic is copying Dona or feels real emotion is not known, nor did Dona care. This is a breakthrough of great proportion, and so the Subatomic caretaker flies off to SB HQ to tell Zavar about this latest news – and anyone else who will listen!
From the scrolls of the Wonder Worlock:
Before the coming of the monster master Java Lyn to the world of Microsha, the folk now called Subatomics led a very simple life.
One of the first Subatomics known outside the Microverse was a guard for Gahaes, a vicious space pirate of the time of the great wizard Thaumaturge, she the last sorceress of her world of Sw’haven. A great giant among the witch’s people (its height was rumored to be eight feet), it was bald, with a large nose reminiscent of a Proboscis monkey, no visible mouth and extremely hairy forearms and legs. Most Threlkellian Subatomics match this description, except they are less tall, a general 7-plus feet.
It is becoming common knowledge, at least in the Threlkellian Empire, that this Subatomic giant first appeared when Gahaes dared return to her world of Sw’haven searching for a former slave of hers named Cringly, as he is the only one who knew the location of the planetoid Plunder, Gahaes’ asteroid lair.
At this time the great guard was nameless and sexless, but when Thaumaturgehimself is somehow captured and locked in the deck of the Black Barnacle, Gahaes’ war ship, the sorceress orders, "Keep an eye on him, Alice!” From that moment on, all aboard the Barnacle realize Alice is a female.
Upon breaking out of the brig of the Black Barnacle and teleporting to Plunder, Thaumaturgeand Alice reportedly fought violently and the wizard threatened to throw Alice off a cliff until Alice's own child (its sex also unspecified) appeared and shouted "Mama!" Realizing that he is fighting a woman, which goes against Thaumaturge’s principles, the sorcerer released Alice and discovered that Alice was an unwilling slave to the evil Gahaes (who had threatened Alice's own baby if Alice did not become her servant). Thaumaturgethen helped Alicegain her freedom and, indeed, led the Subatomic and fellow reluctants enslaved by Gahaes in a successful rebellion that would’ve made Spartacus proud … had he been yet born.
Note: Whether Alicewas returned to her tiny Microverse or whether she lived her life out on or near Sw’haven, even I have yet to discover. -- WW
In the Threlkellian dimension, now, meets the Circle of Allies. It is a new body consisting of all planets which came to the throne world’s defense during Olympia’s most recent attack, now known by the peoples if not by the governing planets as the Olympian Incursion. At the lofty seat of power sits Traven, barbarian emperor of this otherwise scientific volcano-laden sphere. To his right, former vizier/now Olympian ruler Zavar, the most powerful telepath in the Empire. To his left, Favored Citizen of Threlkel the Wonder Worlock.
All around the table sit representatives of the proud worlds who saved the Empire from a crazed Warlord Kwang: the Orthgons, the Sconscions, the I’rhjats and more. And at the Round Table’s other end – that is, opposite Traven, sits a tall, noble Eorge Wellton, the Emperor’s chief general and an individual many credit with winning the war almost single-handedly. He is enjoying his new station as His Majesty, Lord Wellton, ruler of Threlkel (as opposed to Traven’s master title of Emperor Prime).
<Bang! Bang!> The heavy sound of Traven’s enchanted blade banging the Round Table brings the chit-chat of a dozen different languages to a halt as the Emperor speaks.
“Glad I am this day, at our regular meeting, to welcome friend the Wonder Worlock to Threlkel!” <Applause> “I know there are many here who still talk of our new addition, Microsha, a world from another realm peopled by a simple population willing to give you the shirt off their back for just a ‘hello’ … if they wore shirts, that is,” Traven said. “And I stand here as your Emperor and say you – again - NAY! Their populous shall not be put into bondage or treated as second-class citizens as Java Lyn had desired, and their lands and resources will not be mined to death or pillaged for the good of any one part of this Empire.”
“But Your Highness …” Andros, King of Orthgona, interrupted. “Surely we …”
“Any one part of this Empire!” repeated Traven, slamming Memorell against the new table. Silence, as loud now as the sound of the enchanted blade itself.
“We will respect this world as we respect our own. We will share, but not until such time as these people can understand and barter for themselves, until they themselves have representation on this council. Aside from myself, Zavar, the wizard and members of the Star Blazers, this zone is now as forbidden as the former boom dart factory area of this planet, the … er uh, the Forbidden Zone.”
“There shall be a time of enlightenment, atonement and reckoning,” Androssays as he thunders out of the hall. “By Your Majesty’s leave?”
Traven bows his head – as do, the Wonder Worlock comically notices, most others at the table save Wellton and Zavar.
Your thoughts are awfully mischievous foran honored guest, Zavar psi-speaks to the mage. Next you will be making fun of our beloved new Threlkellian king’s white powder wig.
I care not what the general … Zootalaris, I mean King Wellton has onhis head, Your Highness, but rather what he has init!
Like the old friends they now are, the wizard and telepath share a laugh as the royalty of a dozen worlds and more stare at each other, quite puzzled.
As she watches the last survivor of Cripton fly off into the purple skies of Microsha, the Subatomic who so thrilled Prima Dona with her simple words takes her homespun and sits among the many women of this particular tribe.
As they work, all of a sudden, the quasi-verbal Subatomic picks up a large nut from the Waorta tree nearby, about the size of a human’s head, and violently sticks a sewing needle into its core. Over and over again, until the milk runs out like rain.
“Destroy!” she says quite distinctly. “Destroy. Good?”
None of the other females talk, but they jump up and down like proud circus chimps after learning a trick.
“Show. Spread. Destroy!”
They understand, as well as they ever understood Java Lyn or Prima Dona. Tonight the men folk of the Subatomic race will be learning something new.
There is among them a serpent in paradise.
TO BE CONTINUED …