Hips swaying to the beat of the music, the women danced, their slender arms raised high above their heads. Their fingers snapped in time to the music, the women shimmying, twisting in place as their breasts bounced. A turn then, blonde hair cascading down their backs, moving wildly about as they shook their derrieres, the bells on their costumes ringing.
Another turn, facing the throne once more, a woman clad in pale pink silk dropping to her knees. She arched her back, body bowed as she bent backwards, her hair sweeping the floor. He couldn’t even see her face, her large prominent breasts in the way, but Lotor didn’t mind. It wasn’t as though he would recognize her, having little reason to learn her face, or the name to go along with it.
Lotor couldn’t muster up enough feeling or interest to care, expression lazy as he watched the women dance. Their performance was titillating, each artful move designed to arouse, jiggling breasts made to entice one’s gaze to their pert bosoms. But he was used to the show, used to these women who danced, and finding he was long since becoming bored with them.
It wouldn’t stop him from calling over one or two of the dancers, a random selection made for the coming night. To go to bed alone was a foreign concept to the prince, Lotor finding he enjoyed too much the company of their warm bodies. Truth be known, he adored women, of all shapes and sizes, though he had a particular penchant for blonde hair and curvy forms.
He never wondered why blonde hair seemed to call out to him, Lotor ensuring the women of his harem all befit his specific tastes. He was fine with the familiarity, the sameness of each woman, relieved to know he felt no pull towards any one in particular. He’d run in the opposite direction as fast as he could if he felt the slightest stirring of his heart, Lotor not wanting the attachment that came with love’s first glimpse.
No, the single life is what suited him, this time of endless bed partners and freedom from concern. He shuddered to think of finding the woman who could ensnare him, Lotor knowing she was out there somewhere, just waiting for her chance to crook her little finger and have him come running to her. But the galaxy was a big place, and for all that he had seen, he had yet to come across the woman that was destined for him.
Perhaps he would never find her, and if that was the case Lotor was content with that. His father after all, had never found his destined mate, the man choosing instead to take some human for his bride. That had been shocking to the court, the people astounded in more ways than one, not liking that their king broke tradition in marrying a human, in taking a bride who was not his destined mate. Zarkon had merely laughed at their discontent, carrying on as he pleased.
Lotor knew his father held many hopes for his son, the least of which being his human blood would protect him from Drule genetics. He, like Lotor, knew that love weakened you, made you soft and made you irrational. The king felt that one reason he was so ruthless was because he had married not for love, able to devote his mind towards battle and conquest, rule the galaxy with an iron fist.
Lotor wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps, and so far he was doing an admirable job of that. Many planets had fallen to his attacks, their people enslaved, their livelihoods taken to support the many Drules of the Doom Empire. He suffered no doubts on what he was doing, able to think clear headed as he ordered death and destruction rained down on innocents.
It would be different if he found his destined woman, Lotor had seen it happen countless times before. The men changed, allowing their woman to become their whole world, their only thoughts and concerns for their family. They still made effective fighters, though their hearts weren’t in it, anxious and eager to be returned to their wives. The Doom Empire tried to keep the men who were mated out of the military, allowing them to stay on stand by to guard their home planets instead. Young recruits were the key, men who had yet to find their women, eager to unleash devastation on others in a bid to release pent up energy.
It was getting easier for them to have unmated men in the military, the Drules having spread out across the galaxy, the population almost out of control. It left far too many unmated men and women, doomed to never cross paths with their destined one. Some would find it tragic, but others like Zarkon, found it the ideal solution to the weakness that poisoned their people.
Lotor sighed, thinking on his good friend, the commander Cossack. Once the most ruthless of commanders, he had taken sick pleasure in torture, becoming an expert in all areas of how to keep a person alive while inflicting the most pain. The man had never, ever wanted to find the woman that was meant for him, loving the bachelor life almost as much as Lotor did.
But found her he had, the man laying eyes for the first time on the princess of Amazonia, one of the many daughters the Queen Merla had given birth to. It mattered not that Cossack was just a lowly man in the military, with no title to his name. It never did, rank could not bear up to the magic that was in the Drule’s genes, his body crying out for his mate, and his mate recognizing him in return. Though her mother Merla could rant and rave all she liked about the lowly Drule marrying into her family, there was nothing she could do to stop the love match.
Cossack was well on his way to becoming royalty, just days away from his wedding to his princess. Lotor had a good hunch that they hadn’t waited to consummate their union, for whenever he saw them together, which was often as the two could not bear to be apart, the pair could not keep their hands off each other. It left Lotor with little time to speak to his friend, and what minutes he did grab alone with the commander were unsettling at best. Cossack was simply too distracted away from his mate, mind steering the conversation back to the princess over and over again.
Cossack was like a love sick puppy dog, sickening to watch, and absolutely devoted to his mate now. She came before all others, even his king could not outrank her there. Lotor knew to separate them would be disastrous, Cossack would fight and kill to be with her, destroying all in his path be they friend or foe. Zarkon had spent time researching the bond between mates, even go so far as to conduct secret experiments on the peasant class. It was learned that killing one half of a mated pair, destroyed the other, their mind giving in to the sorrow of losing their loved one. They usually withered away from the pain, dying a slow death if they did not turn their own hands towards suicide.
Such extreme emotions came with the mating, happiness so strong as to be a source of deliriousness, and a fierce rage that few could stand up towards. Even worse was the anger when the Drule felt threatened in a different way, making his possessiveness known in the way of his flying fists. If only there was a way to contain that rage, to utilize it out on the battlefield. Then the Drules truly would be unstoppable.
Not that many could stand up to the Doom Empire as it was now, but, and Lotor was reluctant to admit this, there were a few planets that had managed to mount an impressive resistance. Doom was currently locked into battle with a small number of these rebels, both sides battling desperately to come out the victor. One in particular was giving Doom a sizable headache, a backwoods planet that should have been insignificant and easily to subdue.
And yet the planet had a protector, a mighty robot that had yet to be defeated by Doom’s ships and it’s monsters. Zarkon had charged his son with the task of capturing this planet, Lotor acting as smug as usual as he promised his father he would not fail. Lotor was confidant all that was needed was some extra fire power, and a few good plans, the prince having spent days with his generals discussing battle tactics.
It was to Lotor’s regret that Cossack would not be accompanying him on this journey, the prince once again thinking what a waste it was that the commander was now tied to a woman. Cossack would be married by the time Lotor returned to Doom, the Drule would most likely go to live on his wife’s home world. Lotor thought it disgusting how he simpered and catered to his bride’s every whim, but knew there was nothing that could be done about that sort of behavior.
His hand curled into a fist, Lotor grimacing as he thought how another good man was ruined by love. The dancing slaves noticed his expression, faltering in their steps, looking fearful. He didn’t respond, not caring to let them know it wasn’t their dancing that had him so displeased.
Instead he rose from his seat, grabbing the wine goblet a slave held out to him. Taking a long sip on the jewel encrusted goblet, Lotor strode over to the far wall, it’s surface a thick pane of glass that showed the ships drawing near to the planet Arus. He stared at it, considering it’s green and blue surface, wondering how long it would take this campaign to run through to it’s successful end.
Little did he know he know he was about to meet his destiny down on the planet’s surface…..