44

The next time that Orion was woken up, it was not by anything so gradual as his body simply waking
from sleep, or pleasant as Falcon nudging him because he wanted to play. It was by a horrible jolt that had Orion wondering for a moment where he was.

And then he heard the squawk of the radio, and a flash which meant someone wanted him to answer it.

Panic surged through his mind. What was going on? Had the Mutants caught him?

WHAM! Another jolt sent the ship on its end before the autopilot righted it. he saw another flash on
the console now, indicating they were only a few hours away from orbit.

But apparently there was someone who didn't want him to land. it couldn't be the Mutants, not this close
to Thundera.

Could it?

At yet another jolt that seemed like it must break the ship apart, Orion lunged over the seats to grab the
radio and switch it on. immediately an angry voice issued from it. "This is your last warning! Acknowledge
and stop your approach or you'll be shot down!"

Orion gaped, openmouthed, at the voice. Was this a Thunderian? He didn't sound right; didn't sound
normal.

"H-h-hold on!" he cried. his stutter worse in his moment of fear. "I-I-I'll stop!" He nearly threw
himself into the seat and shut off the autopilot. Immediately it became clear that a beginner was flying as the
ship began to shake. but he stooped getting closer to the planet. Hyder had shown him how to fly the thing, how
to work its controls in space in case he was caught going out. But Orion never thought he would need to do
the same thing coming in.

"It's about time, Mutant. You had better have a damned good reason for intruding on Thunderian space.
And I warn you, if you make any aggressive actions, we'll shoot you out of the sky."

Orion swallowed hard as the strange voice threatened him. "I-I..." he started to say, the ship wobbling
worse since he had to take one hand off the controls to be able to talk on the radio. Wait a minute, what had the
voice called him? A Mutant! Orion nearly smacked his forehead as he realized what a moron he'd
been. Of course the Thunderian thought he was a Mutant, he was in a Mutant ship, and he was sure they had
ways of finding out where he'd just come from.

Plundaar.

"W-w-wait a minute, I'm not a Mutant," he said into the radio. In the background he heard the voice
say, apparently to someone else, something about him sounding like a jackal. He had to set the radio down for a
moment to bring the craft under control again, before picking it up. "I-I'm not, though...I;m THunderian!" It felt
odd to say that.

But to Orion's amazement, there was laughter. "You Mutants think so low of us that we'd believe that,
do you? I'm bringing you aboard, and we'll see what your tale is then." There was a click, and Orion strongly
suspected that they had broken the connection. An icy fear was slowly making its way through his body. What
if they didn't believe him? What if they shot him out of the air? he'd not thought of this when planning to
leave the planet, and Hyder apparently had not either. he didn't have enough fuel to go anywhere else, would
they send him away? Worse, would they send him back to Plundaar?

In a panic, he tried to raise them again on the radio, but he didn't know if they really had left, or if he
was just doing it wrong. At any rate, he could not get through.

Falcon, worried and tense as well, ran back and forth in the bedroom to express his nervousness. Orion
hardly noticed.

A moment later, a sharp jolt hit the ship, not like the stun warning they'd hit him with earlier, but it felt
almost like a giant hand had grabbed the ship and stopped it short. A tractor beam? Was this what it felt like?

And sure enough, as he glanced at the little viewscreen, he was going backwards, not forward.

At least they were not shooting him out of the air, he thought, trying to calm himself. but there was no
stopping the fear. He was so close...almost home, and was being detained. By...Thunderians, he assumed. he
hoped.

Did anyone else live on Thundera? snarfs...but he highly doubted it was a Snarf. All Snarfs he'd ever
heard had high pitched voices with strange accents.

Orion's wondering was cut short as he realized he was being drawn into a hangar where a few ships
were clamped down, and bright lights flooded the area. he had to squint as the doors shut against the bright
light, having gotten used to the dim ones of the ship, and of Plundaar. bright Lights were something he rarely
saw there.

His ship set down, and there was a loud hiss that even he could hear from inside the ship. Putting air
and pressure back into the chamber, he thought suddenly, remembering what Phiron had told them about large
ships that docked smaller ones. So that people could enter the chamber to get to their ships.

He gulped and glanced at the door, where now he heard shots, and people running. He was shaking,
both in anticipation of seeing his first free Thunderian in over ten years, and with fear of what they would do to
him.

"Get that door open!" he heard someone shout.

Orion would have opened the door himself, except there was a blast, the shop rocked, and the door blew
open by itself, the steps falling out to clunk to the ground. Nearly cowering behind the seats, he heard a voice
outside bark, "Get out, Mutant. If we have to go in after you, you'll be sorry."
his manner of speaking was so like Monkrion's that Orion almost cringed, and was almost afraid not
to do as he'd said! Would his own people...

No. No, he told himself, a Thunderian would never torture another one.

Would they?

At the unseen voice's second command to get out, slowly, and with his hands up in the air or
else...Orion bit his lip and slowly began to creep out of the ship.

There were a dozen soldiers outside the door, dressed in the alien garb of the Thunderian guard. All of
them had blaster rifles aimed at him as he stepped shakily out, his hands held at his shoulders. he had a look of
terror on his face as he stepped out, looking from face to face, watching their grips on their weapons tighten.

A few looked shocked, some did not change their expressions at all. One turned to a man standing
behind them and said something in a language that Orion did not understand, and with a pang of sorrow, realized
it was Thunderian. A vague memory of his parents speaking it went through his mind, then faded. He had only
known some of it, since Thunderian children usually weren't taught the language until they ere older, as it was
complex and difficult.

Orion remembered none of it.

He stopped once he'd reached the bottom step, wanting so much to go back into the ship. And wasn't
that a laugh? him, wanting to go back into a small area... but he felt very vulnerable. Very.

He wore Plundaarian clothing of course, both breeches and top which were ripped, as he'd worn them in
the woods. he had a few items that Hyder had given him, including the jumpsuit, but he'd worn his comfortable
clothing until he got to Thundera. he had intended to wear the ones without rips before landing.

"So..." The man who had stood at the end of the V of soldiers stepped forward between the two lines
toward Orion, his eyes narrowed. Orion was so intimidated by this point that he involuntarily stepped
backwards, tripping over the bottom step and falling over backwards onto them, and then to the floor. Every
one of the soldiers, some male some female, some old some young, shifted their guns to be kept trained on him
at the sudden move. But none fired, yet, and who Orion assumes was their...commander or whatever was carefully staying out of their line of fire just in case.

Spooked, Orion scrambled backwards, almost under the ship, as the commander approached. "Get up,"
he said coldly, backing up a little so that Orion could.

Get a hold of yourself, Orion told himself savagely. You stood up to Blackmoor for plundaar's sake! He
stood, still keeping as far as he could from the commander.

The commander, who was a breed of cat that Orion couldn't distinguish, looked him over. "Get your
hands up,' he said mildly, and Orion did. He was very unnerved by so many weapons being pointed at him. "I
don't need you going for your dagger." He reached out, making Orion flinch, and took in deftly from its
sheath. he looked it over, and then tossed it aside, looking back at Orion. "Do you even understand what I'm
saying to you?" he said.

Orion nodded. "Y-yes...I-I understand Basic," he said, and bit his lip. "Wh-what did I do wrong?"

The commander raised his eyes. "Nothing, yet. But you come unannounced into Thunderian space,
don't answer the radio until we threaten to blast you into space, sound as much a plundaarian as any Mutant I've
met..." he shook his head and backed off a bit.

"B-but I..."

"Quiet,' the commander said quietly, cutting Orion off. He turned to one of the soldiers and said in
basic, so that Orion could understand, "Bind him. Take him to one of the interrogation cells. We'll see who
and what he is there."

Interrogation? No...they wouldn't... Interrogation to him meant pain. But he tried not to fight when two
of the soldiers put their weapons away and moved forward to roughly bind Orion's arms behind him. The cat
closed his eyes and tired not to panic, tired to cooperate...

Suddenly his eyes widened, and he tried to turn around. Thinking he was fighting, the soldiers slammed
him into the ship, making Orion cough, while they bound his hands. "M-my p-pet,' he said, substituting 'pet' at
the last minute for 'companion' he wanted them to know it wasn't some other guy waiting to jump them. "H-he's in there...please don't hurt him..." he spoke this as they started shoving him out of the hangar and towards a door that led into the rest of the ship.

"He'll be fine inside for a few hours,' the commander said, looking coldly at the retreating cat. he
closed up the ship. his people could look it over later, and he'd get someone who could deal with animals in
here to take care of the creature. if it was deemed no threat to the general population, h would not be harmed.

Otherwise they were going to have to get clearance to put it down.

Chapter 45

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