HAGAR'S LITTLE HELPER - PART 9

I can’t hear my sister screaming for me anymore. That’s good; it means they managed to get her away from the area safely. I hope they make it out of here. After everything we‘ve been through, they have to.

From where I lie on the slope I can see that Dana hasn’t moved from the place that she fell. She’s either badly wounded or dead. I get on my hands and knees to crawl over to her, keeping the weight off my wounded arm. I turn her over carefully and check for a pulse. There is none. I feel a knot tie up in my throat and my gut.

The climbing rope nearby suddenly goes taut. A perverse idea strikes me and I raise up on my knees to cut it with the knife I have. It snaps under the weight of those trying to climb up the slope and I hear shouts and curses as they fall. Several laser bolts rip the air over my head, then it gets quiet again. I wish I could find the rifle I dropped right now. I’d like to die fighting if I could.

The sound of grunts and strains amid the clatter of loosened rocks gets closer and closer as several men work their way up to my hiding place. Six soldiers round the stone I’m lying behind and take aim at me. Then I hear someone else approaching, cussing as he does. It sounds like Cossack.

“Stinking damn rebels,” he slurs and stumbles in my direction, pauses to catch his breath, then he points his whip at me. “You’re damn lucky you’re related to my girlie or you’d be dead right now, human. Where are they headed?”

I lower my eyes at the mention of Aria. Cossack unfurls his whip and lets it crack against a rock nearby. “Speak up! Which way did they go?”

I shrug, shake my head and make no reply. Cossack cracks the whip again, something flicks past my eyes and my chest suddenly explodes in pain. My scream snags in my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut.

A soldier in a Captain’s uniform comes up to stand beside Cossack. He glares down at me briefly before addressing his commander.

“Sir, that particular ledge opens up into several passageways. There’s no way to know exactly which route they’ve taken, because there’s so many to choose from.”

Cossack kicks at my leg. “He knows.” He cracks the whip at me again. “Talk, damn it!” The whip lashes out a third time, a fourth. I cry out reflexively with each hit. I can’t help it. The pain of each blow on top of my laser wound is too much to endure. Cossack pauses in his beating to wait for my reply.

“Mercy,” I gasp at him. “Have...mercy.”

“Mercy, hell.” He prods me roughly in the ribs with the toe of his boot. “I’ve been nice enough to you as it is, boy. You’re still breathing. Now I’m gonna ask you one more time. Which way did they go?”

“I have...no...idea,” I manage to gasp out in reply.

“Th’hell you don’t,” he snarls. He walks over to Dana, leans down to grab her by the hair, lifts her head to look her in the face and lets her drop again. “You either start talking right now, or you’re on the way to becoming laser-riddled corpse number three. Your choice. But you won’t die anywhere near this quick. I guarantee it.” He orders two of the soldiers to drag the body away. I blink back the sudden tears that fill my eyes.

“Sir, I have a suggestion,” the Captain says. “The odds are good that this one could be used as bait. I’m fairly certain his friends would want to rescue him if they knew he was alive and they thought there was a chance.”

Cossack’s expression brightens. “Ya think? Great idea!” He grins down at me and I feel my heart sink. He gives me another prod in the ribs. “I can work on making him talk while I’m waiting for them to show up, too. This is too good. Take him away.”

The Captain looks at the soldiers and motions toward me. Two of them come over to hook me under the arms and drag me down the slope.

Aria is a mess. Her tears have fouled the last traces of her makeup and made her eyes all puffy and red. Her lip trembles with each sob as she stumbles along, leaning on a grim-faced Reid for support.

“My brother is dead, isn’t he?” She whispers. “They shot him. I didn’t see what happened afterward. They killed him, didn’t they?”

Kyle looks around at her. “He was hit, but it wasn’t fatal. They’ll probably keep him alive. You know why, don’t you?”

She blinks at him, shakes her head ‘no’ slightly, then her eyes widen. Yes, she does know. Her shoulders slump in resignation.

“Take me back to Cossack, then,” she says in a tired, tiny little voice. “Tell him you’ll make a trade.”

I step away from Garn to take her firmly by the shoulders. “Don’t you dare talk like that!. Do you know what would happen if you gave yourself up to Cossack right now? Your brother and all the rest of us would be killed the moment he got you back. You can’t surrender to Cossack. Not now, not ever.”

“Please, please...I have to...my brother...” She trails off into a sob, burying her face in her hands.

“Aria...” I hug her gently. “You have to get back home and live to avenge him. That may be all you have left to go on now. Do you understand?”

She stares at me for a long time before her gaze drops to her feet. “Yes…I understand.” She begins to cry all the harder. I brush a hand over her hair and drape an arm around her shoulders. She leans into me as we walk. Garn falls into step with us as Kyle takes the lead through a maze of narrow corridors.

After several minutes of walking we emerge from a side passage leading into a large docking bay with the roof open to the dull gray sky. Kyle and Garn make the rest of us wait in the shadows while they step out into the open, vanishing from sight around a stack of crates. Kyle returns quickly with some ragged coveralls and a pair of boots, which he hands to Aria. Her expression is blank as she snatches off the skirt of her slave costume, pulls on the coveralls and steps into the boots. Garn comes back around the crates a moment later.

“I found the ship we have to get them aboard. It’s due to leave any moment now. Kyle, you go distract the men on the gangplank and I’ll get these two into the slave line, all right?”

Kyle nods and Aria stops him with a touch on his arm. He turns to look at her and she manages to give him a small smile.

“Thank you for helping us,” she says softly, then she draws close and kisses him soundly on the lips. He clears his throat noisily and gets a little color in his cheeks as she steps back.

“Distraction,” he mutters. “Gotta make a…I’m outta here.” He vanishes around the crates. Aria’s expression saddens. Reid touches her lightly on the arm.

“One last thing to do,” I say to them and prepare a spell of disguise to cast on both. They tilt their heads at me and seem confused as I wiggle my fingers and mutter lots of nonsense. When I’m done I smile and tell them to look at each other and they startle when they do. Aria is a very plain looking, flat-chested dishwater blonde with wrinkles and Reid is a plump, beef-faced redhead.

“The magic will remain intact until you reach a place of safety. Then you have to touch a wall on the inside of the structure you’re in and say ‘sanctuary’ three times. That will end the spell and you’ll be yourselves again.” I give Aria’s hands a squeeze. “If Zelaniel is still alive and I can do anything to help him, I promise you that I will. Do you believe me?”

She snuffles and wipes at her eyes. “Yes, I believe you,” she replies, then she hugs me tightly. I hug her back and she manages a little bit of a smile when she pulls away. I look at Reid. He gives me a flash of a grin and walks over to hug me as well. As a final precaution I cast a temporary aura of nonchalance around the area before they leave the safety of the shadows to cross the floor.

The soldiers standing watch at the gangplank apparently know Kyle very well. He chats with them pleasantly and shares something from his pockets while Garn places Reid and Aria in line with no trouble at all.

The officer in charge of preparing the ship for departure seems impatient to get the slaves on board. Reid and Aria get rudely shoved into the hold with the rest and the door is shut firmly behind them. The launch area is cleared and the bulky carrier lifts into the air toward the clouds, gaining altitude until it finally vanishes through the thick layer of gray overhead. The next ship is prepared for launch.

A large detachment of soldiers rushes into the loading bay. They shout orders in all directions and begin to search from ship to ship. The soldiers poke at slaves and look in crates, unaware that their quarry is long gone. Garn and Kyle take advantage of the chaos to separate themselves from the rest and return to where I’m hiding. They walk up to stand on either side of me. I rest a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Where to now, Your Highness?” Garn asks.

“We go and find Hagar so she knows I’m all right.” I look down at the purring ball of fur rubbing at my leg for attention. “Lead the way, kitty.”

Coba doubles back into the passageway. I sigh heavily and start after him. Garn rests his hand on my shoulder and I place mine over his as we walk.

No one talks in the cargo hold; it’s so quiet that I can hear the roar of the ship’s engines die down to a low hum. Power is being diverted to the jump drives for the trip to Marlowe. If the humming noise stops, the ship stops, which means it will probably be boarded and searched. We aren’t as safe as I’d like to think we are, not yet. Not until we reach our home turf. Then we’ll be all right. I know the place we’re headed to inside and out. We’ll be able to lose ourselves in the crowd and get away long before we reach the processing center.

I look over at the sleeping woman curled up by a crate of mining tools on my left. She doesn’t look like Aria at all. It’s amazing. I take note of the ring of fat around my waist and pat at it in disbelief. We’re just two new slaves on our way to the mines, some tired-looking woman and her pudgy friend.

Princess Tira is something else. Beautiful, intelligent, tough as nails. No wonder Zelaniel fell for her like he did. Unfortunately, I think that’s why Dana attempted her last show of bravado, to try and win him back. Not like she ever had him in the first place, but a person can dream, I suppose.

I hope Zelaniel makes it back home. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t. Losing Tallam and Dana has been bad enough. I haven’t started any crying yet, but I think it’s because I’ve gone numb inside. There’ll be plenty of time to grieve when we’re back at the stronghold and I get to relay the update to everyone. But I can’t worry about that until we get home. And we won’t get home if the ship doesn’t reach jump point. One worry at a time, Reid.

I strain to listen for the telltale pinging of the drive engines starting up. After a moment I’m rewarded with the sound of a metallic tap-tap-tap from somewhere behind and above us. The drives ignite with a throaty roar that dissolves into a high-pitched whine that announces our jump to hyperspace. We get jostled around for a few seconds, then all is steady once more. I give a heavy sigh of relief and settle back against the crate behind me. That’s when the tears hit, and they don’t stop until I fall asleep.

Coba strolls out of the absolute darkness into a torch-lit archway. I can see a set of prison doors just before a turn that hides the rest of the corridor from view. We’re in the dungeon. We inch our way to the corner as quietly as we can. I peek around the turn cautiously.

“All clear.” Kyle rounds the corner boldly. “We’re good to go from this point on. The robots won’t bother us.”

Coba zips around Kyle to stroll straight down the hall and we follow close behind. The sound of a whip cracking reaches my ears as we near a lit room with an open door. I pause at the doorway to peek around it.

The room is a torture chamber. Various instruments designed to inflict maximum suffering on a victim sit against the walls and in the middle of the floor. Zelaniel is tied to a whipping post thirty feet beyond the doorway. Cossack is currently in the process of beating him with his whip as Hagar watches quietly nearby. The back of Zelaniel’s stolen uniform has been reduced to shreds and angry red welts crisscross his skin. He keeps his forehead pressed against the post and grinds his teeth, wincing at every blow.

Across the room, Lotor and Modru are looking Tallam and Dana’s bodies over where they lie on a large tarp spread out on the floor. Lotor seems to be very anxious about something. He looks around briefly to watch Cossack beat the prisoner, then he whispers quietly to Modru. He doesn’t look happy at all.

“Cossack,” Hagar says with mild irritation, “my healing potion will go to waste if you beat this human to death.”

“Quiet, old witch,” he growls at her. “I’m going to make him talk.”

“You’re going to make him dead. I’m supposed to get at least one of them to experiment on, you know.”

Cossack lowers his whip to blink at her. “You are?” His lips purse in a puzzled frown and he steals a glance at Lotor, then he nods to himself. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Yeah, you are.”

“What happened, Cossack?” Lotor approaches his Commander, his voice tight with anger. “Two dead, plus that one. We’re still missing two bodies.”

Cossack fiddles with his whip, looking very confused. “Two? Oh yeah, two. Ahh, I guess they’re still running loose in the foundation level. I was trying to get their location out of this one.” He seizes Zelanel by the hair and yanks his head around to stare him in the face. “Where’s my girlie, you son of a bitch?” He growls. “Where?”

Zelaniel simply glares at him and makes no reply. Cossack grinds his teeth and his lip begins to curl. Hagar makes a dismissing wave in Cossack’s direction.

“Stop worrying about that slave girl of yours, Cossack,” she snaps at him. “It’s more important to know what’s happened to Tira.”

There couldn’t be a better time for me to make my entrance. I quietly tell Garn and Kyle to wait at the doorway and I step into the room, pausing just beyond the threshold. “Tira is right here, Hagar.”

They all turn to look at me. I smile pleasantly at my brother as I walk further into the room. Cossack’s jaw drops and he takes a quick glance in Lotor’s direction. Lotor grits his teeth and his fists clench tightly. I give him an innocent little bat of my eyelashes and turn to address Hagar.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it here sooner, but I got lost after I escaped from my captors. Fortunately, those two soldiers found me and helped me get back.” I nod toward Garn and Kyle, then I turn my smile on Cossack. “I want to thank you for that distraction you created. I was able to escape thanks to the fire-fight that went on between you and the rebels.”

Cossack blinks. “Huh? Oh yeah, the fire-fight. I...kinda figured you’d be able to get away during the ruckus. You’re a smart girl and all.” He throws Lotor a helpless look. Lotor works his jaw and his features turn into a serene mask.

“Well, I’m just glad that you were sent to the rescue. It’s good to know that I have a brother who’s so concerned about my well-being.” I fight the urge to break into laughter as I walk over to stand beside Hagar. Lotor frowns at Cossack, glances at Modru and finally unclenches his hands.

“So everything is taken care of, then,” he mutters. “Just some mopping up to do, it seems.”

“Indeed,” Hagar replies, then she turns to me. “Why don’t you go and get some rest now, child? I’m sure you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

My gaze falls on Zelaniel. “What will happen to him?”

“Let’s turn him into a robeast and send him back to Marlowe after his own buddies! Wouldn’t that be a scream?” Cossack grins broadly and turns to Lotor, clearly pleased with his idea. “What’cha think, Your Omnipotent Oppressiveness?”

Lotor snaps out of his quiet fuming to regard Cossack with a slight smile. “I think I like it. Can you do that, Hagar?”

“Of course I can,” she huffs. “I’ve done it plenty of times before.”

I swallow tightly. If I don’t think of something to save him, Zelaniel is done for. I promised Aria I’d send him back to her safe and sound…

“I - I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I blurt out. Everyone in the room throws varying looks of surprise my way, including Zelaniel.

“Why not, Sweetcheeks?” Cossack replies. “You got a better plan?”

Modru arches an eyebrow, Lotor folds his arms. Hagar simply studies me in silence, waiting for me to speak.

“Well, he…maybe he could be used as a hostage. Someone important might try to come and rescue him. Perhaps even the Voltron Force themselves. You know how they are about saving even the lowliest slave.”

Cossack wrinkles his nose. “Nahh, my idea is better.”

“Perhaps both could be done, if I don’t make him into a giant robeast,” Hagar says. “I’ll use an experimental process I’ve been wanting to try. If he survives he’ll be bait for the Voltron Force, plus he’ll become a weapon to use against the rebels on Marlowe as well.”

Cossack perks up. “Hey, that’s a great idea! If he stayed normal size, and then we set it up where we let him be rescued…why, they’d welcome him back to the fold, and he’d rip them all to shreds!”

“Then that settles it,” Lotor says. “Hagar, you get to work with your magic, and Cossack will head back to Marlowe with our secret weapon once you have him ready. Maybe your little assistant here can lend a hand as well.” He gives me a searching look before he turns to depart. Modru pauses to study me with something much like admiration in his eyes before he leaves as well. Cossack remains where he is, fumbles with his whip briefly, then he seems to get his bearings. He walks up to Zelaniel and waves the whip in front of his face.

“I’m gonna go find your buddy and my girlie by myself,” he growls. “You’ll be subject to Hagar’s tender mercies from this point on. Good riddance.” He makes a show of storming out of the torture chamber and I hear him break into a run as soon as he reaches the hall. Hagar watches after him until his footsteps fade into distance, then she walks over to Zelaniel to examine his back.

“Humph, Cossack and his damned whip,” she mutters. “I’ll have to heal him up again, or I doubt he’ll survive the process.”

“Hagar…?”

“Yes, child?”

“Do you really have to experiment on him?”

Hagar gives me an odd look. “I should think so, since those were Lotor’s orders.” She gives me a sideways glance. “So why, pray tell, are you so concerned with this one escaping when you’ve already set the others free?”

Zelaniel turns his head ever so slightly to stare at me. His expression is one of deep relief that his sister is safe. My next breath catches in my throat as I address Hagar.

“You know…about that?”

“Of course I do, child. Have you forgotten that I can see what Coba sees if I so choose? That’s why I had him keep so close to you when you first arrived, in case something happened that required my intervention.” She takes a vial from her robes, uncorks it and pours the contents over Zelaniel’s injured back.

“I did miss some parts of your little adventure, though, when I called Coba out of your room that first evening,” she continues. “I assumed all was well. I didn’t even think about the flowers being a danger. I learned about what happened later on completely by accident. I spoke with your servants once I sent Garn off to rescue you. I asked them if they had any idea of what happened between you and Lotor after breakfast. They didn’t know anything about that, but they told me the whole story about the scorpion. The dark-haired girl was hoping that I’d come to collect it.” Hagar rubs her chin with a finger. “That scorpion was definitely Lotor’s doing, but I just know Modru had a hand in the second attempt. Lotor isn’t clever enough to think of something quite that complex.”

I’m wondering why Hagar didn’t pick up on the full scope of Lotor’s plot. Between Garn, Kyle and myself, she should have gotten all the details. But Coba wasn’t always within earshot while we were down there. I don’t know if I should fill her in or not.

“Maybe Lotor will be more creative the third time around.”

“There won’t be a third time. I mean to have you on your way to Arus by this time tomorrow.” She scowls deeply. “I don’t blame you for wanting to strike back at him on your own. It’s a very interesting form of revenge you’ve chosen, letting some of the rebels return to Marlowe to plan a future strike to his lazon supply.”

“And there’s no way this one could be released as well?”

Hagar makes a face. “I’m afraid not, child. I have to give Cossack something he can use to deal with the rebels in compensation for what you’ve done. Endangering the lazon supply is one thing, but I can’t risk it being lost altogether. So unless you can give me a very good reason to let this human go, I have work to do.”

Zelaniel appears to be resigned to his fate. He probably doesn’t care what happens to him now that he knows his sister will be all right. And while I do trust Hagar, I’m not sure what she would do if she knew how important her captive is. It could serve to make his situation even worse than it is now. Or maybe not. I have to try.

“I think that he’s a prince, Hagar. Prince Zelaniel of Marlowe. If so, wouldn’t he make a far better hostage than a robeast?”

Zelaniel stiffens at my declaration. Hagar smirks at me and shakes her head.

“Child, he is no such person. The entire royal family of Marlowe is dead. Zarkon saw to it personally when Marlowe was first taken. He ordered their executions himself. There are have people on the planet who make such a claim every now and then to strengthen the morale of the rebels and further their efforts, but I can assure you that the house of DeGerezar is no more.” She looks Zelaniel over. “Why, if I thought for one minute this boy was the actual prince of Marlowe, I’d go straight to Lotor to let him know about it. The rebels could be forced to surrender at once, and all Cossack’s problems would be solved right there and then. Think about it, child. If he really was the prince, why would he be allowed to fall into Cossack‘s hands so easily? Don’t you think that’s just a little too convenient?”

I look at Zelaniel. He smiles ever so slightly at me in return. I think he is the real thing, but will it do any good to argue the point? Becoming Lotor’s hostage is just about as bad as him being turned into a robeast. But I would have a better chance at getting him back to Marlowe if he was just a hostage. And I promised Aria, I promised…

“Well Hagar, I was just…hoping to have a little fun with him if he were imprisoned here in the castle. Royal privilege, you know.”

Zelaniel arches an eyebrow at me, then he turns thoughtful. I can just imagine what he’s thinking about that remark.

“I figured as much,” Hagar replies with a slight frown. “What have I told you about priorities, girl? You can’t let your hormones interfere with your mission. You have some serious work ahead of you. And speaking of serious work, you can come to the lab with me and watch the experiment, if you like, . You’ll learn some basic robeast-making techniques that way.”

I feel my shoulders slump, as much from exhaustion as anything else. “No thank you, I’d rather not. I’m very, very tired.”

“I can just imagine.” She nods at my filthy clothes. “You ought to go back to your room and take a nice, hot bath. You can get your soldier over there in the doorway to go along and soap your back for you, hmm? Perhaps that will help you get some of that frustration out of your system.”

“Yes...of course.” I turn to leave and pause at the threshold to make myself look back at Zelaniel one last time. He smiles and mouths the word ‘farewell’ at me. I swallow tightly as I hurry into the hall, grabbing at Garn’s hand to drag him along with me. Kyle gives me a smile, winks at Garn and departs his own way. I reach the end of the corridor and stop in my tracks. Garn gives me a questioning look.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?”

“I don’t know the way back to my room from here. You have to show me.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” He assumes the lead, walking along with a thoughtful frown on his face. At the door to my room he releases my hand without speaking and turns to go. I reach out to catch him by the sleeve.

“Where are you going? Didn’t you hear what Hagar said? I’ll need help with soaping my back…” I give him a hopeful smile. He doesn’t seem interested, much to my surprise.

“I’m sorry. I…didn’t think you’d be in the mood for such a thing under the circumstances.”

“Don’t make assumptions about my mood. I know what I do and do not want. Come along.” I snag his hand again and tug him through the door. Darah and Xerina look our way as we enter and spring to their feet to prepare a bath on my orders. I kick off my shoes, pad across the wonderful carpet and flop onto the mattress. Garn remains standing by the side of the bed, his hand still in mine.

“What will you do now? You promised his sister you’d free him.”

“I know…” I let go of him and settle against the pillows with a heavy sigh. “But Hagar’s not going to risk her neck for a mere mining slave, and I wasn’t sure if I should try to convince her that she had the prince of Marlowe as her captive.”

“I remember when Zarkon had the royal family of Marlowe executed,” he replies. “He’s probably an imposter anyhow.”

“That may be, but it doesn’t negate my promise to his sister. On the other hand, if Hagar doesn’t produce a robeast for Cossack, Lotor will probably give her some grief. I need to think of another way to get him away from here without Hagar catching any trouble for it.” I rub the soles of my feet along the comforter. Those shoes of mine were definitely not made for a long march through the rubble of a collapsed building. Garn sits on the edge of the bed near my feet and places them in his lap.

“Shall I massage the royal feet?” He asks with a smile.

“Oh, please do.”

“As you wish.” His strong hands begin to work the ache away, and I feel my whole body start to relax. It feels wonderful.

“Mmmm…I’ll give you all evening to stop.” I give a lazy stretch and yawn. I wonder what it would feel like to have his hands all over me like that. I fully intend to find out once that bathtub is full. Another yawn escapes me as I ponder the thought. I must be more worn out than I realized.

I think I have an idea that will work. Hagar could just tell Lotor that Zelaniel died during the experiment. She did say it was a possibility. I could…

Could what? What was I just thinking about?

I yawn again, and it’s the last thing I remember.

To Hagar's Little Helper: Part 8

To Hagar's Little Helper: Part 10