War is never really won by anyone who participates in it. War simply rearranges the way things were and steals the promise of tomorrow from each side. To succeed at war you have to lose a part of your humanity. After you win enough wars, you have no humanity left because you lost a piece of it each time you killed someone.

-Soldier's Tale

Hordak thought he knew what was evil incarnate. After all, he was supposed to be evil incarnate. He had done everything he thought an evil overlord would do. Slavery, collecting exorbitant taxes from the citizenry, the occasional tickle torture session, and perhaps a killing or two to make an example.

How wrong he was. The newcomers Horde Prime had sent had opened his eyes once and for all time as to what true evil was. And Hordak felt an unfamiliar sensation in his stomach ever since he knew what their methods were. He felt sick.

They had started with the Horde garrison. Every trooper and commander who failed to measure up to their exacting standards had been killed immediately, no questions asked. Soldiers were asked to fire upon their comrades to prove their loyalty. Commanders forced to kill their men themselves to show their dedication to the cause. Through it all, the overseers had laughed in glee, treating it all like some kind of perverse entertainment.

Then had come the military offensives. There was no more pussy footing around the Rebellion. The overseers simply brought in several grotesque starships, and proceeded to pound the independent kingdoms into submission from orbit.

When the Rebellion tried sending infiltrators into the warships, the overseers had been prepared for that as well. They had outfitted every ship with dead man switches that would send paralyzing gas into the entire interior if they were ever boarded. The rebels had been caught flatfooted, and their leaders captured with ease.

She-Ra, Queen Angela, Peekablue, Perfuma, Flutterina, were caught during their ill advised attempt to destroy the ships. The pirate Sea Hawk had been killed, along with most of his crew. While Frosta and Castaspella had managed to escape, their kingdoms were invaded and conquered soon after.

Hordak had often imagined this, his ultimate victory over Etheria, his enemies in his dungeons, his armies rampant over the world. So why did it taste like ashes in his mouth? Because it wasn't the result of my efforts.

He doubted he could have done what the overseers did. There was something within him that simply refused to go to the extremes that the overseers had, that told him that what they were doing was wrong. It was that same inexplicable feeling that had made him feel pride, and even love, when he had raised Adora from an infant to a young woman. Her betrayal still cut him in ways he could not understand.

Riding in his mobile command vehicle, Hordak thought about the latest reports from this particular region he was inspecting. There was a steady increase of rebel activity recently, and the morale of Horde troops in the area was dropping like a rock. Instead of waiting for the problem to escalate, he had decided to take a personal look at the situation instead.

After all, with the overseers running roughshod over him in the Fright Zone, he had nothing to do there anyway. Better to see if he could make himself useful elsewhere. He looked carefully at the forest along the road. Too many damn ambush points, he thought.

Sandoval grinned as he observed the enemy column moving on the road from his hidden position in the woods lining the road. According to the rebels' descriptions, the white faced sentient with fangs and red eyes sitting in the lead vehicle could only be Hordak. Which paved the way for the next step of his plan.

His initial assessment of the rebels had been "enthusiastic, poorly trained, no overall strategy". He knew he was being harsh on them, but the current situation didn't leave him with much choice. If they were to stand a fighting chance, they had to make every little edge count.

Their advantages. Widespread support from the populace. A secure, near impregnable base in the Whispering Woods, shielded by powerful magic. Skilled leaders in Bow and Glimmer, all that were left of the leadership core of the Rebellion after their attempt to halt the orbital bombardment of Etheria.

The Horde's advantages. Sheer manpower and technology. Supply of reinforcements from space. Orbital coverage and reconnaissance. The overseers themselves.

Even if they were able to throw the Horde off, Michael knew that the Horde could always invade again, next time with even greater force. There was no counter balancing interstellar state nearby to oppose the Horde, and there could only be one result in the long term if all the Etherians did was to stay on a defensive footing.

The ultimate long term goal was to destabilize the entire Horde empire and free all the worlds under its reach, and to do that, he'd already planned out a series of steps to achieve that final objective. He had been trained to think big, think ambitious, and this was no exception.

It started out with a series of raids against the local garrison, led by Bow and Glimmer. They would attack supply convoys and isolated patrols, making sure to hit and fade back into the woods, never taking more than ten minutes for every raid. Just hit, disable the enemy, and then abscond with their equipment. Everything taken from the guerilla's handbook Grayson Death Carlyle had written, decades ago and millions of light years away on a jungle hellhole called Verthandi.

And since the magic of the Whispering Woods protected them from orbital bombardment, Sandoval had been confident enough to have the equipment, with their electronic tracking bugs and all, brought into their main camp. He taught them to remove the tracers, and the rebels were slowly but surely getting used to modern weaponry. It was far easier to learn how to shoot with a gun than with a bow, after all, not to mention the advantages in range and accuracy. While a few of the rebels were woodsmen and hunters, the majority were simple farmers and townsfolk drawn to the Rebellion by the promise of freedom.

Today Bow and Glimmer would stage another raid, but the results were going to be a bit different this time round. He melted back into the woods. Showtime.

"Hey, if you keep your face looking like that, don't expect any handsome young prince to court you anytime soon!" Bow tried to make light of the situation as he noticed Glimmer's worry. She was fidgeting from place to place, constantly checking on their weapons and the rebels selected for the raid.

"What is keeping him so long?" She asked.

Bow shrugged. "You should know by now that this Bhaal does what he wants. I wouldn't worry. He's more than capable of taking care of himself."

"That's what we thought about She-Ra."

"Yeah, but this Bhaal's different. He's smarter, more cunning…"

"More devious, and ruthless as well. He reeks of evil, Bow." She finished for him. "I wouldn't have asked him to help us if we weren't so desperate." Her words held tones of regret.

Bow stepped forward to hug her. "Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. I just…" he paused, "I just want you to know that no matter what, I'll always support you."

Glimmer rested her head on his chest, grateful for his steadfast support through all the good and bad times. "I wish we could stop this fighting. And perhaps one day…"

"It's time." Bhaal stepped out of nowhere before she could complete her sentence. He looked coldly at Bow and Glimmer for a moment before his eyes softened slightly, which made Bow wonder if the man was as uncaring as he appeared, tried, to be. "Are you ready?"

Bow reluctantly shifted away from Glimmer, while checking his equipment for the last time. "Yeah, we're ready."

"Good, let's go. The enemy awaits our presentation."

Hordak stirred in his seat. He had felt… something. An inkling at the back of his neck, a faint sensation of danger…

"Unit under attack." A trooper reported before being cut down by an arrow through its vulnerable control systems located in the head section, punctured through its cheap plastic visor.

Hordak leaped out of his transport, shapeshifting both arms into hand cannons, even as Horde troopers, both automated and living recruits, fired back haphazardly at their unseen ambushers.

"Take cover!" Hordak gritted his teeth as he saw the first few rebels appear from behind cover, moving to get better shots at his soldiers. "Cut them down!"

The accursed rebel Bow emerged, shooting at robot troopers with incredible accuracy, dropping them one after the other like flies, mixing in a few explosive arrows for variety. The princess Glimmer stood behind him, throwing out blinding light beams that did not inflict any damage, but served to blind and confuse the Horde soldiers.

Hordak blasted away with his arm cannons, but he just couldn't hit the damnable rebels. Then a curving azure beam from Glimmer hit him right in the face. Hordak fell back under the cover of a battered transport, shouting in rage as his sight was temporarily removed. He could just see the report to Horde Prime now. "Hordak defeated by a bunch of ragged assed rebels".

He heard Force Captain Tuwac, the nominal commander of the convoy, shouting orders in frantic desperation. However, most of those orders were mistakes. Hordak growled in anger. If only he could see!

His sight was returning slowly, but not fast enough to turn the tide of battle. Tuwac and his men were already falling back to the last of the vehicles near Hordak's position. Hordak steeled himself, ready to take down as many of the rebels before changing shape and running.

A rebel was moving forward when he was suddenly struck in one arm by an arrow. Three more rebels were hit by arrows in their arms and legs in rapid succession. The rest of them halted, as if unsure of what was happening.

Another bowman? Hordak wondered, his sight almost fully recovered. It can't be Bow. And I don't remember any archers with us.

Bow was shouting to his rebels, trying to get them to defend against the new attack, but it was useless as Hordak saw a steady stream of arrows rain down towards the rebels, forcing them back or else be injured, or even worse, killed.

Hordak looked up to see a black cloaked and hooded figure move with silent grace across the battlefield, firing with amazing speed, about 2 arrows every second. The archer's hands were a blur as they took a fresh arrow out of his heavy quiver, nocked the arrow to his bowstring, pulled back, and let fly, almost hitting a rebel unless they managed to duck away in time, and that was only possible because of the distance between the archer and them. Still, the archer's forward movement meant that they would be within deadly range soon.

Hordak had never seen such skill before, not even from the rebel Bow. As though in response to his thoughts, Bow stepped out, ostensibly in a challenge to the newcomer. He raised his own bow, loosing an arrow in the unknown archer's direction.

The Horde commander glimpsed the hint of a smile beneath the hood of the archer. The archer did not even halt his movement, and fired off an arrow in response. The jaws of all those watching dropped in amazement as the archer's arrow snapped across the tip of Bow's arrow, veering it away from the archer while continuing towards Bow, who stood in stunned disbelief.

The arrow stabbed into Bow's side, and the rebel gasped in pain. Suddenly, the morale of the rebels broke, and they started running away, some of them carrying their wounded leader into the forest, while Glimmer covered their retreat with a forcefield from the emboldened Horde warriors, advancing under Hordak and Tuwac's lead. The archer stood off to one side, his bow held at the ready, but he did not make any attempt to pursue either.

Tuwac was about to urge his men forward when the unknown archer spoke for the first time. "Does the Horde employ fools who charge into forests where another ambush could be waiting?" It was the strong and confident voice of a man.

"Tuwac, stop!" Hordak ordered. "The stranger is right."

"But sir! We have them on the run!"

The archer spoke again, "And who's to tell if they have backup in the forest ready to chew you to pieces?" He laughed derisively. "Go ahead then. Be my guest. Don't expect me to cover your ass though."

"Who are you?" Hordak asked, half certain of the answer already. "A sword for hire?"

The archer smiled grimly. "Indeed, my lord is brilliant." Hordak waved off the comment. He had enough of bootlickers. "Yes, I am a mercenary. I just arrived off a cargo ship, and I thought of earning some honest coin. So I asked around, and every answer I got was to sign on with the Horde. I was on my way to meet up with you personally when those rebels attacked. What better way to demonstrate my skill?" The archer drew back his hood, revealing the face of a surprisingly young man. His green eyes stood out below a head of brown hair, ever alert and watchful as they roved around every few seconds. "Those arrows I was using? Poison tipped. There'll be about ten less rebels to bother you from today on."

Hordak nodded. He had been a bit suspicious of the manner in which the archer had arrived, but that explanation had been good enough. He could well believe the poisoned arrows, as a look at the slightly oily surface of the an arrow nearby would suffice. But there was something about the man… Hordak deemed himself a good judge of character, and he knew the man was hiding something, perhaps a lot of things. But what? Could he trust the man for his plan?

He made a decision. "Very well. Welcome to the horde. Since our rank structure is pretty, uh… saturated right now, you'll have to be satisfied with a Trooper's rank and pay."

The man spat. "Bullshit. I am an experienced vet of many battles and wars. At the very least, I'm worth the rank of a Force Captain."

Hordak shook his head, "I'm sorry, but we have no vacancies. You'll just have to make do."

The man suddenly smiled slightly, and Hordak shivered. It was the smile of a predator. He said, "How about this? Let me create a vacancy, right here, right now."

Hordak frowned. "But there are no… ahhhh…" Understanding dawned on him. He looked at Tuwac, who was staring at them dumbly. "Go ahead then." This should be interesting.

The man half smiled. "Thank you. I promise you won't be disappointed." He walked up to Tuwac, who still didn't understand what was happening until the archer drew a sword from under his cloak.

"What the hell…" Tuwac drew his own sword.

"Simple, Force Captain," the archer waved his sword in front of him in intricate patterns. "I need your rank, and your command. So you can either walk away from the Horde now, or you can just die. Your choice, my friend."

Walk away, Tuwac, Hordak observed the man's movements, trying to discern his skill. This is no ordinary mercenary.

"No way. I will kill you right now!" Tuwac roared as he brought his sword up and around to his right in a lope that would slice the archer into half. "Die!"

Except the archer had easily slid to the left, and then forward with blinding speed, his sword held parallel to the ground as he moved off, the blade cutting Tuwac across his belly from his middle to his side. Then the man stood straight up again, and slid his sword back into its scabbard under his cloak, but not before a flick of his wrist cleared the blood from the smooth blade.

Tuwac collapsed onto the ground, his sword clattering uselessly beside him, dead before even landing a single blow. Blood pooled below his rapidly cooling corpse.

Hordak nodded appreciatively. It was too bad he didn't have many subordinates truly skilled in the arts of war. From what he had seen, this problem was about to be solved.

"Yaaahhh!" The sudden sound made Hordak look up in surprise to see one of Tuwac's subordinates, a Force Lieutenant, along with his Force Sergeant, driving a transport truck down the road for a distance before spinning around to face the archer.

"Lord Hordak, since you allowed this mercenary to create vacancies, how about we create one for ourselves as well!" The Lieutenant shouted.

The archer looked to Hordak in query, and Hordak shrugged in response. "If you can kill this man, I shall promote you!" Hordak shouted. I'd like to see how he'll deal with this.

"Good! Now die, stranger!" The vehicle charged forward, accelerating and forming a dust cloud behind it in just a few seconds. Hordak estimated about 8 seconds before the vehicle would hit the man, and as fast as the archer was, he did not believe he was fast enough to evade an incoming vehicle.

The man did not seem unduly worried though. He drew his bow again, and Hordak watched with interest as to what he would do. The moments seemed to stretch out as the man drew back an arrow, paused for just a split second, and fired it at the vehicle.

Hordak shook his head as the arrow slammed into the thick mindscreen of the transport, right in front of the sergeant, who was in the driver's seat. The windscreen was tough enough to withstand even laser bolts. The arrow had managed to penetrate only part of the way through.

"Hahahaha! Idiot! Your arrow tricks won't avail you against this!" The Force Lieutenant was laughing, but Hordak saw the man still standing calmly in the middle of the road.

The archer drew out another arrow from his almost empty quiver, his movements slow and deliberate. He held it up to the bowstring, and drew the arrow back, holding his position for a whole second. Hordak looked in growing panic at the vehicle, which seemed about to smash into the archer.

Then the arrow finally streaked from his bow.

Straight into the end of the previous arrow.

Pushing the already embedded arrow forward past the windshield.

Forward into the forehead of the sergeant.

For the second time that day, the jaws of the Horde observers dropped in sheer disbelief as the out-of-control vehicle veered off from its course, missing the archer by mere inches. For his part, the archer did not move at all when the vehicle brushed past him, as though he had already known where it would go.

By the Ancients, Hordak rarely swore, but this was an exception. This is impossible! The breeze of the vehicle's passing movement caused the man's cloak to billow for a moment, and in that instant Hordak saw a whole deadly array of knives and daggers on the man's belt.

The man walked over slowly to the vehicle, which had overturned on its side. The Force Lieutenant climbed up and out of a door, holding up a pistol, swaying slight on his feet. He staggered up on the vehicle, and was about to shoot when the archer calmly fired off another arrow, this time punching into the Lieutenant's hand and making him drop the pistol.

The Lieutenant yelled in pain and anger, and jumped from the vehicle for the man with a dagger in his good hand. As his dagger swung down, his arm was caught by the archer, who had moved forward. The archer used both his arms to add momentum to the Horde officer's flight, ending in a bone jarring slam on the ground.

The archer did not stop there. He immediately bent the arm he was holding with was probably a breaking move, and Hordak winced as he heard a loud crack. The Force Lieutenant screamed in agony, spittle flying from his mouth. The archer let go of his broken arm, and stood over the beaten Horde officer.

"You are pathetic." The victorious man said. "And you call yourself a warrior?" He turned to the ashen faced Horde troopers standing around Hordak. "Let me teach you what being a warrior means." He placed the heel of a boot on the lieutenant's neck, and started to press down into his throat, forcing out a gurgle from the stricken man..

"A warrior is one trained in the art of killing" The lieutenant's eyes were pleading now, his unbroken arm grasping in vain at the archer's boot in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his neck.

The archer did not stop, and pressed down even harder. "A warrior is one who kills his enemies without regrets." The lieutenant was clearly suffocating now, his body twitching and squirming on the floor in its death throes.

"A warrior is one who leaves broken enemies in his wake because he knows the dead can never harm him." A final downward press of the boot squeezed out a convulsion, all that remained of the lieutenant's life. The archer looked up at the Horde warriors, as though in challenge, and Hordak could swear they were all ready to run away from this monster. Hell, even he felt more than a bit afraid. He doubted he could defeat the archer if it came to a fight. Perhaps, just perhaps, this archer might be the overseers' match? A plan came to Hordak's scheming mind.

"Excellent," Hordak said, "I don't think anybody will be bothering you for quite a while. By the way, what do you call yourself?" Names, signifying nothing. I bet he'll give me a false name.

The man paused for a moment, before answering, "I am Charlatan."

Bingo. Definitely a false name. Clever old me. Hordak would have felt better if he didn't feel half-scared that his plan might just result in his death.

Bow yelped in irritation as Madame Razz wrapped a bandage over his arrow wound. It had gone cleanly through his body without hitting any organs, and the wizened guardian of the Whispering Woods had assured him that there would be no permanent effects from the wound, and that he would be ready for action within a week. Bow did not know if he was supposed to be glad that Bhaal had been true to his word to inflict the minimum amount of hurt on him and those 'chosen' to be targets, or jealous of the other man's preternatural ability in archery.

"Are you all right?" Glimmer's worried face peeked through the entrance of the medical tent.

"I'm fine." Bow grinned. "The plan worked."

"Yeah," Glimmer nodded as she entered the tent. "I only hope Bhaal can rescue She Ra and the others."

Bow thought back to Bhaal's quiet confidence. "I think he can. If anyone can do it, Bhaal can."

Glimmer smiled, "So you're no longer jealous that he's better than you at shooting?"

Bow scowled. "How did you know?"

"We've been together for so long. I wouldn't be much of a leader if I didn't know how my friends feel, would I?"

Bow laughed in reply. "Well then, mind reader, tell me what I'm thinking of now?"

"Oh, how about some dinner?"

"A girl after my own heart indeed." Bow smiled broadly as he walked out of the tent. "Come on. Thanks Madame Razz!" He said to the old witch.

Madame Razz, who had kept quiet throughout the exchange, only beamed as she said quietly. "Love is in the air." She shook her head, and chuckled as she prepared to tend to other members of the Rebellion. But she worried nevertheless, for those still in the clutches of the Horde. Mister Bhaal, we are depending on you.