The midnight hour was upon New Thundera. The Thundercats were in their beds sleeping peacefully, as they had been every night for the last decade or so. It was now twelve years since the apocalyptic battle fought against Mumm-Ra in the Book of Omens, and the residents of New Thundera had seen nothing but peace, happiness, and prosperity as the decade passed. New Thundera City had grown into a thriving metropolis with all the refugees returning to their home planet. The worst thing the Thundercats had to deal with in some time was the investigation of a crime here and there, and the occasional skirmish with Mutants from Plundarr or Lunatacs from the Moons of Plundarr that orbited their planet instead of their sister one. Other than that, New Thundera was the ideal place to live.

That’s all about to change, a malevolent being known as Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living mused as he stared into his cauldron. He was still weak, having spent the past years slowly rebuilding his powers during his forced leave of absence. After the failed battle in the Book of Omens, the undead mage had thrown himself upon the mercy of the Ancient Spirits of Evil and pleaded with them to spare him. Sure, he conveyed the image of being unshakable and fearless, but when it came down to it, he was genuinely afraid of them and their power. After living so many countless decades, Mumm-Ra did not want to die. Life in his undead form was all he knew, and he had no desire to know what he would meet in the afterlife. He had a sneaking suspicion that if there was any truth to the belief of a hell that many varied religions had, he’d be a prime candidate for it. He did not want to find out.

Fortunately for Mumm-Ra, the Ancient Spirits of Evil had spared him after much groveling and pleading, but they were unwilling to restore his power to its full extent after he had disobeyed them. Instead he’d been put on a ridiculous form of probation that gave him limited use of his powers for twelve years, that allowed him to continue to exist but do so essentially in dormancy with little more than his awareness. After that time was up he was allowed to rise again, powerful as before, on two conditions. One was that he was never to defy a command of the Ancient Spirits of Evil again. The other was that the first thing he would do upon his restoration was to summon his undead bride Torlei back to life to work with him. Mumm-Ra was less than thrilled about that prospect, as he and his unwilling bride were hardly what anyone, living or dead, would call a harmonious pair, but he supposed that existing with her was better than being powerless or dead.

He reflected back upon the events surrounding their bonding all those years ago. She’d been awakened from her grave only to be shot into the heart of a volcano hours later, and Mumm-Ra had believed it impossible for her to have survived despite the Ancients’ grant of supposed immortality, mostly because he hadn’t sensed her living presence through their dark bond. He had been surprised to learn later that night that she still lived, but he had no choice but to accept her back into the pyramid with him. Their partnership was the decree of the Ancient Spirits of Evil and only a fool would risk offending them in such a manner.

As it turned out, Torlei had been very weak when she returned, and consequently she’d chosen to go dormant so she could

rebuild her powers rather than face her enemies again too soon and risk another defeat. Due to her young age, immortally speaking, it would take her years to regain her strength to the level she wanted, so during that time she slept the cold sleep of the dead in their pyramid. Mumm-Ra was her caretaker in her sleep, though he never disturbed her sarcophagus and rarely even thought about her during the tension-filled years of conflict that ensued with the Thundercats afterward. Even up and until his final two defeats, the last of which left him in his own half-dead state of rest for twelve years, he gave her little more than a passing thought. But now times had changed, and the time for her rest and his peace had passed.

More pleased than he should have been, the decrepit mummy form of Mumm-Ra walked along the cold stone of his crypt to reach his cauldron, preparing himself for the summoning spell and the consequent reunion with his undead bride. He smiled confidently to himself. Finally, after so many years, his probation was up, and he’d been a good little mummy. Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living was free and powerful again.

"We’ve entered the airspace, Luna," TugMug’s accented voice called out from the controls of the large ship that held the six outlaws known as the Lunatacs of Plundarr. Their craft, stolen from a crew whose luck was worse than their own, had seen better days, but it was still large and impressive enough to take them all around the galaxy and pull them out of the numerous tough scrapes they got themselves into on a regular basis.

Luna gazed at the image of the Third Moon of Plundarr, or as she knew it in her native tongue, Dasanalith, in front of her on the monitor. The sight of her homeworld brought strange feelings to the surface. It had been many years since she’d last seen it, since they had been forced to leave or risk a fate worse than death at the hands of the royal criminal justice system.

But now they knew that the government that had forced their flight was long gone. The Lunatacs of Plundarr were a bit of a time anomaly ever since Mumm-Ra had encased them in lava and frozen them in time on Third Earth for what they had estimated was approximately fifteen standard years. Those fifteen years added to the five they spent on Third Earth while not imprisoned, plus the twelve after that encompassed their short exile and long life on the run afterwards, came to a good thirty or more years that they had been absent from the Moons of Plundarr.

The Lunatacs figured that any rulers in power from their time were at the very least retired, if not dead, and that their renegade crew must all have been presumed dead by now. And even if they weren’t, they also knew from rumor that Thundera’s explosion all those years ago had created horrific natural disasters on their home Moons, wiping out a huge percentage of the original population as well as destroying most of their buildings and cities. It was a logical assumption that any laws or records of their crimes that might still have existed were long gone by now.

As she watched the satellite grow larger and brighter on their approach, Luna wondered what things were like back home. She could only imagine how things must have changed, but until now, neither she nor any of the others had the nerve to get within a billion light years of anywhere the Thundercats that had exiled them were living, and that included their home Moons. The Lunatacs enjoyed their freedom far too much to allow themselves to be trapped back on that miserable chunk of rock known as Way Out Back ever again. After they managed to escape that dismal prison, they’d fled to, explored, and at times plundered on a small scale, the other side of the galaxy, but they took special care to stay out of sight and out of trouble. Big trouble, anyway. But as of late, they’d been getting a bit homesick. Each of them had wondered what might have happened in the place they had once called home, and finally, after much delaying and indecision, they made up their minds to take the risk and go back and see for themselves what it was like, Thundercats be damned.

Once they breached the atmosphere and the land below came into view, Luna recognized a familiar mountainscape in the distance. A lifetime ago it seemed, she had lived in a building that had a magnificent view of that same mountain—her family’s estate. Luna had been born in a wealthy family with a lot of influence, an indirect branch of the main royal bloodline of the Third Moon. The respect her birthright had commanded in other Lunatacs was one of the things that had gotten her into the position of command. Well, that and Amok.

The sound of someone beside her broke the small Lunatac out of her thoughts, and she turned and saw Alluro looking at the landscape.

"It’s been so long," he said quietly, sensing her inquisitive gaze upon him. "The last time we were here, my sister was still…" His voice trailed off and he looked away from the screen. Even after so much time, he still wasn’t good at dealing with the memories associated with Torlei, and he rarely spoke of her without slipping into a sour mood.

TugMug bounded over to the control panel with them. "Hey, I wonder if your girlfriend’s still around," the graviton suggested to Alluro in a poorly veiled attempt to get his mind off his sister. It wasn’t so much that TugMug cared one way or the other, except that he found the hypnotist twice as annoying when he was moody. The woman he spoke of, a Psi named Lurella, was someone Alluro had been involved with before they left. There hadn’t been anything serious between them—at least not from Alluro’s perspective—and he had been seeing her for two reasons: One, that she was attractive, and secondly and more importantly, she had a sizeable bank account that he hoped to get his hands on. In all honesty, he’d thought she was an airhead. But she was an airhead with money and a thing for him, so he hadn’t had any qualms about using that to his advantage, especially since she was both attractive and gullible.

A snort from Chilla’s direction interrupted the conversation before Alluro could say anything. "She’s probably really old and wrinkled by now if she is," the ice woman said bluntly. She didn’t care to discuss that topic, for although she would have sooner died than admitted as much to anyone, she held a bit of an attraction for Alluro, and she didn’t particularly care to hear about his ex or their sleazy past relationship. Especially since the woman in question was someone that she’d never liked to begin with. In her opinion, the Psi woman not only made Amok look like a neurosurgeon, but she was also a spoiled little rich girl that whined about everything. Chilla didn’t have much patience for that type, especially since she worked for one of them.

Chilla then remembered her own childhood, and her memories most certainly were not pleasant ones. Her mother had abandoned her and her father shortly after her birth, simply disappearing without a trace, and her father had been an overbearing jerk that bullied her around and beat her up until she was old enough to leave him and live on her own. She had run away from the Frozen Moon as a teenager and ended up on the Third Moon in the capitol, where she’d lived on the streets until she eventually met Luna and started working for her. Unlike Luna and the others, Chilla felt no sense of urgency to come home. After all, what was there for here there? A big nothing, that was what. She couldn’t care less about the moons or anyone on them, and more than slightly, she resented the others’ decision to come back here at all. She glared at the equipment readout. "Readings indicate we’ll land in ten minutes," she announced with a hiss that accentuated her foul mood.

Over at another panel, RedEye called Luna to get her attention. "Luna, we just got a communication from some place called the MoonTower, which I’m assuming is the large structure by the mountain over there with the royal crescent moon insignia on the top," he said, pointing to a building visible in the distance on their viewscreen. "An officer that identified himself as reporting directly to the Governor General wants to know why we’re landing and what our purpose is. What do you want me to tell him?"

Luna glanced at the screen, and then back at RedEye. "Tell him we’re coming home."

Panthro pushed his newly built compact space vehicle to top speed, rushing through the bright early afternoon sunshine, climbing higher and higher into the sky. "All right, let’s see what this baby can do," he said determinedly, and slid a lever as far upward as it would go. The craft roared out of New Thundera’s airspace into the starry universe above. Since it was a new vehicle and this was its test run, he wasn’t going to take it too far. He planned to race around the planet’s orbit, and maybe swing around some of Plundarr’s moons, then take it home. He wanted to have a chance to see firsthand what the vehicle’s capabilities were, and the test run was the perfect excuse to push the limits.

As the craft zipped along at a ridiculously fast speed, an excited smile spread across his features. Panthro loved his vehicles, and got incredible satisfaction from building them. The ship he was driving was his current project, the "sports car" among space vehicles—sleek, powerful, and fast. To his delight, it was exceeding his expectations and riding quite smoothly even at top speed. "Now this is a ship!" he declared to himself proudly, as he came near the airspace of the frozen moon of Plundarr.

The fact that the moon was technically enemy territory didn’t bother him. Aside from domestic squabbles, the Thunderians and the Lunatacs hadn’t had much outright fighting since their return, for both civilizations were more concerned with rebuilding their own worlds than with dealing with the other, unless outright attacked. Panthro flew vehicles past the moon frequently, for it was one of the ones closer to New Thundera and it was one of the more sparsely populated ones as far as he knew.

"I wonder if she’ll go as fast in the cold," he mused aloud as he entered the moon’s airspace. He hadn’t done much temperature testing on it, but he thought it was pretty sturdy. He was confident that if anything bad happened, he was knowledgeable enough about his own vehicle that he could see an early warning and get out of there fast enough. Besides, the vehicle had an advanced detection system and it wasn’t picking up any other crafts in the immediate area. "Well, I don’t see a reason why I shouldn’t test that," Panthro reasoned to himself, and pressed on full speed ahead into the atmosphere of the icy moon.

As he made his way across the landscape, he glanced beneath him and saw nothing but snow-covered mountains, a few scrubby evergreen trees, and iced over lakes and oceans. What a wasteland, Panthro thought. I can’t believe anything can actually live here. Of course, it was common knowledge that beings did live there. One of the races of Lunatacs was native to this frozen moon world, as well as a handful of other cold-thriving creatures. There had even, at one time, been a small group of Thunderians, now all but extinct, that could have survived in such a climate—the snow cats, specifically a clan of snow leopards, of which none existed any longer.

That breed originated had from a part of the old Thundera deep in the heart of their snowy mountains. They were a small clan of cats that kept to themselves except for some trade with neighboring breeds and their chosen representative among the Thundercats. Their specialty had been mastering the cold elements, manipulating ice, snow, and frost much like the Ice Lunatacs. Naturally, the Thunderians couldn’t produce it from their bodies the way the icewalker Lunatacs could. They could only manipulate what was already present in their environment. The snow leopards were, however, capable of adapting to extremes of cold that most Thunderians could not tolerate, including climates like the one on this icy moon. They also had mystical powers as well that were no longer well understood, the most legendary of which was a unique attunement with the supernatural. The last Thundercat noble of the snow leopard clan had vanished under mysterious circumstances, and after that loss, the clan refused to allow any more of their own to be lost in such a way, blaming the other nobles for her death. They had even refused to leave their native mountains when Thundera had exploded, and sadly their entire race and secrets had been lost forever. Panthro remembered Jaga telling him that story not long after he earned the title of Thundercat. He knew that Jaga had known the last snow leopard noble briefly in his youth, but he had never spoken of her in much detail, other than telling him the story of the snow leopards. He wondered what else there was to the tale.

A loud bang on the side of his test craft shook Panthro out of his thoughts abruptly. The panther quickly checked the gauges and noticed that the temperature was so low that it was actually causing the metal of his ship to contract on itself and warp. "Damn! I didn’t think of temp-proofing the stuff to handle extreme cold, only heat!" Panthro growled, cursing himself for being careless enough to forget such an important detail. He saw other gauges and readings going wild and knew he was in trouble. He exhaled and pushed the steering lever upward again. "I’d better get off this frozen chunk of rock and get back to New Thundera right away!"

He’d no sooner hit the lever than he heard another loud crack and a crash, and the ship’s power was lost. The metal over some of the internal wiring had warped off, and ice crystals were now damaging the craft’s circuitry. Now starting to genuinely worry, Panthro switched the ship to auxiliary power, but it was too late to do any good. Moments later that shorted out as well and he began losing altitude at an alarming rate. The Thundercat swallowed back a wave of fear as the realization that he was going to crash set in, and while he still had time, sent a mayday signal to Cat’s Lair in the hopes that someone could come and get him soon. He knew he wouldn’t survive long without cold weather gear on the Ice Moon, and he prayed that they would make it in time. It was his last thought before the small ship crashed into the side of a snow-covered mountain.

Not far away, a middle-aged icewalker Lunatac named Frostor watched a bright object streak across the sky. Frostor, who held the title of Governor General of the Moons of Plundarr and resided back on the Third Moon with the rest of the high-ranking governmental officials, was visiting the Ice Moon Lixuvekh on official business. He was overseeing the excavation of what he and his colleagues hoped would be a prime fuel deposit for the frozen moon. But he was temporarily distracted from his work when he saw the strange light. "What in the name of the moons was that?" he asked of the Lunatac beside him.

"Beats me," his companion, a thirtysomething-aged Psi wrapped in every form of cold-gear imaginable named Psiarik, replied. Although no one they knew could have made the connection, he bore more than a slight resemblance to Alluro. They shared the same build, very similar facial features, and even the same hair color and pattern baldness. The most notable difference was that Psiarik was visibly younger and had more of his hair left, and he wore a brooding expression that was accented by the goatee on his chin. He shivered, pulling his heavy coat closer around him. "It was probably a falling star or something," he grumbled with a shrug. "Let’s just concentrate on the mine work so we can leave this miserable place!"

"Not used to the frozen moon, hmm?" Frostor replied with an amused smile. "Actually this is a warm day for this season. It’s not even winter here yet. You should see it during a cold spell."

Psiarik snorted in unamused response. "Thanks, I’ll pass. I’m used to the nice weather back on the third moon, or the hot dusty small moon weather, not this permanent blizzard from hell. I can’t wait to get back to the MoonTower and have Selene soak with me in a nice hot bath," he said, referring his wife, who also happened to be the current ruling Queen of the Moons of Plundarr.

"You’re going to have to get used to these trips out to the other moons eventually, you know," Frostor told him, slipping into the lecturing tone he often did when speaking to Psiarik. Along with Selene and her brother Prince Silvian, he considered them on some level like his children. He had known them since their youth, when Thundera’s explosion disasters left them orphaned, and acted as their guardian and mentor during those years. Even though they were now grown, it was hard for him to not slip into a paternal role at times. "It’s a part of being married to the queen, you have to act like a king."

"Yeah well, if I’m a king how come I gotta put up with your dumb ideas?" Psiarik retorted, rubbing snow out of his frozen goatee.

"Because you know I’m right," he replied good-naturedly. "You know how much we need an extra supply for the MoonTower, since we can’t risk exhausting the Third Moon’s reserves of it. There’s enough in this deposit we’ve found to power ourselves for over a year with energy to spare. If you want to blame someone, blame Vultureman. It’s all his technological feats that require lunarium or thundrillium to power it, and there isn’t any thundrillium on our moons to speak of," Frostor replied, sick of his companion’s constant whining. Although he liked Psiarik, his attitude got tiresome after a while.

Just then a Lunatac mineworker came up to them. "Frostor, we’ve found something I think you should see."

"What? Problems with loading the ore?" Frostor asked.

"No, that’s going all right. We’ve found something else, something that looks important. Let me show you," the worker replied.

"All right, all right. Show me. Come on Psiarik." Frostor motioned and he and the psychic man followed the worker for a short walk to a tent. Inside the tent on a table sat two more workers, staring at an ornately carved sword. It was made of a luminous metal, and a small shining blade made of a translucent stone protruded from a crescent moon symbol decorating the sword’s handle.

Frostor gasped when he saw the weapon. "By all the Moon Gods of Plundarr..." he stammered.

"Nice sword," Psiarik remarked, glancing at the sword as he helped himself to a hot beverage in the tent’s insulated warmer machine.

Frostor picked up the sword and ran his fingers over it in awe, looking upon it reverently. "This is no ordinary sword."

"What is it, Sir Frostor?" asked one of the workers.

"Where did you find this?" Frostor asked, ignoring the question.

"It was found in the rubble while we were mining, completely encased in blue ice. We blasted it out with one of the mini laser mining cannons. We thought it looked important, maybe thought it was historical or a relic or something."

"If this is what I think it is, you were right. I thought this sword had been lost forever..." the icewalker general said in astonishment.

"What the hell is it? It just looks like some ancient warrior’s sword to me." Psiarik said.

"No, if I’m right—and I’m almost positive I am—this is the MoonSaber. The legendary sword of the Kingdom of the Moons of Plundarr. A sword equal in power to Thundera’s Sword of Omens and Plundarr’s Sword of Plundarr. It was believed lost for all time, hidden by a sorceress to forever protect our moons from destruction," Frostor informed them.

Psiarik frowned. "Well, it did a lousy job of that. Our moons are a wasteland, ever since Thundera blew up and screwed around with our Moons’ natural forces." The Psi man had had always been bitter about that issue. Like most survivors of the disasters, he had lost everyone that mattered to him when the aftermath of Thundera’s destruction decimated the capitol along with the other Moons. He had been a teenager at the time, and only survived because of a freak twist of fate. His mother, younger sister, and stepfather hadn’t been so lucky. Over fifteen years had passed since then and he still hadn’t gotten over it, and he didn’t think he ever would. He probably would have lost it completely if he hadn’t met Selene and Frostor and the others in the ruins of the capitol and lived with them.

Frostor’s voice shook him out of his unpleasant memories, and Psiarik looked up to find the general standing beside him. "You don’t understand. This has to be taken back to the MoonTower at once. According to legend, the MoonSaber must be held by a warrior of royal blood to defend our people from those who would destroy us. The MoonSaber was originally forged in ancient times by a mighty warrior known as Luran the Conquerer."

Psiarik nodded. "I’ve heard that name before."

"He was the one who finally joined our five moons together as one kingdom, and ended the clan wars between the moons, and united them under the Third Moon royalty. The legends say that the Lunar God of Honor gave Luran the very moonstone this blade is constructed from and bestowed the mighty power of the gods into the sword itself. It became a symbol of our people. The MoonSaber was entrusted to the royalty on the Third Moon, and it was only to be used by warriors of royal descent. Today that would mean Prince Silvian most likely, although Queen Selene could wield it as well if she were inclined."

Frostor paused to take a breath and continued his story. "The use of the MoonSaber throughout history has been well-documented, both through legend and valid account. Unfortunately fifty years ago it was stolen from the royal palace by a snow leopard Thundercat, one who knew of the sword’s role in an ancient prophecy involving it."

"Prophecy?" Psiarik asked, sipping at his drink.

Frostor nodded. "The prophecy said that if the MoonSaber were to be used with the proper incantation in combat along with the Sword of Omens and the Sword of Plundarr and they fought united, on the same side, our three worlds would be forever united in peace as allies. Conversely, if they were used against one another, again with the proper magical incantation, vast destruction would be visited upon of all the worlds and the winner of the war would be the ultimate ruler of whatever remained.

"At the time we were at war with the Thunderians and planetside Plundarrians, so we feared that they would use the MoonSaber’s inherent power to destroy us. The ruling king, Selene’s grandfather King Mallar, ordered a mighty ice-born sorceress, Chillandra, to pursue the Thundercat and stop her at all costs. There was a battle, during which Chillandra defeated the Thundercat, imprisoning her in magically charged ice somewhere here on the frozen moon where they had fought. Fearing that such a battle might happen again, Chillandra hid the MoonSaber on the frozen moon so it would never be found, in the hopes that destruction would never befall our Moons. Chillandra herself then went into hiding on the frozen moon herself to keep the location she’d hidden the blade in a secret. No one knew exactly what became of her, as she disguised herself and lived among the local people as a commoner for a time before disappearing entirely. Some rumors said she even went so far as to marry and have a family to protect her identity.

"As you know, that was a lucky thing, because the wars between our three worlds grew more and more vicious. Ratilla the Mutant used the Sword of Plundarr against the Sword of Omens in a battle on Thundera, and when he was vanquished, the Thundercat Jaga buried the Sword of Plundarr in a Thunderan volcano to keep its power from harming their people. The Sword’s revenge was destruction of Thundera, which in turn destroyed much of Plundarr—and our moons, which weren’t even involved in the dispute of that particular battle. Perhaps the devastation was not complete because the MoonSaber was not present, and the ancient incantations could not be used."

Psiarik shifted when Frostor finished speaking and regarded him a bit coolly. Though he’d been interested in the story, he didn’t quite believe it could possibly be true. "That’s a great story, Frostor, but if you’re telling me that this sword can destroy a planet..."

"It’s in all the history books, or it was, before most of our libraries were destroyed," Frostor countered. "Besides, if there’s even a chance that the legend of the MoonSaber is true, we must get this sword to Silvian or Selene’s protective hands in the MoonTower before it falls into destructive ones and spells the end of all of us." He cast his eyes along the impressive weapon one more time before handing it to Psiarik. "And, since you are Selene’s husband, King by marriage, it’s up to you to carry it back, you being the closest link to the royalty among those of us here. Take it," the general ordered.

"Whatever you say, Frostor," Psiarik replied with a shrug as he took the MoonSaber. He had to admit that strangely, he did sense a sort of quiet power within it. He glanced down at the blade, and the sword glowed faintly in his hand. Wonder filled his usually cynical eyes. "Amazing."

"I told you," Frostor said with a smile. "Now let’s get home."

Back on New Thundera, Cheetara, on watch duty in the control room of New Cat’s Lair, received Panthro’s distress signal. Immediately she sounded an alarm and everyone present hurried in within minutes.

"Cheetara, what is it?" Tygra asked.

"Panthro’s ship crashed," she informed them gravely. "It iced up and went down on the Ice Moon of Plundarr. We have to send a rescue party up there now!"

Immediately Lion-O pulled the Sword of Omens from the claw shield. "I’ll go."

"Me too," Bengali said. "Cold doesn’t faze me, and my hammer can blast through any ice that gets in our way."

"I want to go too," WilyKit said, fingering her lariat and packet of pellets. Now that she was adult, she still had the same weapons, but they packed far more of a dangerous punch now that she and her brother were mature and experienced enough to be able to handle them. "I’ll go grab us some cat suits, and we’ll go in the Feliner. That’s been modified for cold weather."

Bengali nodded. "I’ll go fire it up," he said, and ran to the landing bay while WilyKit went for the suits.

Lion-O started out after them, but Cheetara stopped him before he could leave. "Take care of yourself," she urged. Their relationship was among one of the many things that had changed over the years since the battle in the Book of Omens. A few years prior, their affection had combined with attraction that soon gave way to love, and the pair were now married as mates. They even had a small cub together named Cheetaro, nicknamed Chet, to whom Cheetara had given birth a little under two years ago.

Lion-O smiled and gave her a kiss, touched by her concern. "Don’t worry about me. You know I will."

"I know," she answered, not comforted by his words as much as she wished she was. "But I have to warn you, I have a feeling that this may be more than a standard rescue mission. My sixth sense is tingling, but I can’t tell you anything concrete about it, only that something big is about to happen. Please, be careful." she said, looking at him intently.

Lion-O’s smile changed to a more serious one, and he laid both hands upon her shoulders. "I’ll be extra careful, Cheetara. I promise." And with that he turned and left to join Bengali and WilyKit on the Feliner.

Panthro came back into consciousness inside an icy cavern. A small bonfire was burning nearby, and he noticed that it wasn’t as intensely cold here inside the cave as it likely was outside. Wondering who had rescued him, especially considering he was on

Lunatac ground, he looked around and realized that he wasn’t inside a cavern at all. It was in fact more of an igloo-like structure. Now even more curious, he pulled himself closer to the fire and wrapped the blanket his benefactor had given him more tightly around his body. "How did I get here?" he wondered aloud. "I crashed, but someone must have brought me here. Who?"

A soft feminine voice answered him. "I have saved you, Panther Thundercat."

Surprised, Panthro turned around and saw a beautiful Thunderian woman standing in the doorway. She was like none he had ever seen before, absolutely striking in appearance with snow-white fur decorated with coal black spots. Her silken mane was the exact opposite, long beautiful black fur dotted with white spots. Her feline eyes were a lovely deep green, and she wore a long black cloak that bore a Thundercat insignia.

Panthro blinked in astonishment. "Who... who are you? You’re a Thundercat?"

The mysterious feline nodded. "I was, once upon a time. My name is Snoelle, and I have lived here alone for a long while now. I saw your ship crash and came to your aid." With a walk so graceful it almost seemed like she didn’t touch the floor, she approached him and crouched beside him. "How do you feel, my lost Panther?" she asked in a gentle whisper as she lifted a delicate hand to caress his cheek for a moment.

Panthro couldn’t exactly feel her touch, only a pleasing sensation of warmth. I must have been out in the cold for a long time to be by a fire and still be this numb, he realized grimly. I’m lucky to still be alive. He cleared his throat and turned to face her. He found himself lost and rapt as he stared into her eyes. "I—I feel all right I guess. Thanks for saving me," he stammered, still taken by her exotic beauty. He filled with desire to know more of her, to feel her warmth again.

The spotted feline smiled back at him. "So who are you, Panther Thundercat? What brought you to the frozen moon?"

"My name is Panthro," he replied. "I’m of the Thundercat nobles serving under Lord Lion-O. I was test driving my new ship, but it iced up after being in the atmosphere here too long and it crashed."

She seemed less interested in the details of his crash than she did in the mention of his lord’s name. "Lion-O..." she repeated. "I am not familiar with that name. The Lord of my time as a Thundercat was Katan."

Panthro looked back at her in complete shock. "Katan? But he was the father of Claudus!"

"Indeed, he had a boy by that name," she said with a nod.

"Boy? No, Claudus is no boy. His time as a Lord has already come and gone. My Lord, Lion-O, is his son," he said, trying to sort out the inconsistencies of how this youthful woman could have served in the time frame she spoke of. "How could you have possibly served under Katan? You aren’t old enough. You look younger than me."

"My age is unimportant now. Concern yourself with rest and healing. Your friends are on their way looking for you, and I will lead them here. Rest now, Panthro, and conserve your strength," she told him, and gently lay him back down into a resting position. Briefly she took his hand in hers, and once again he felt that numb, yet pleasing sensation of warmth, this time with a touch of desire.

"Sleep well, Panthro," she whispered. The mysterious feline woman leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead before slipping back into the shadows cast by the fire that crackled beside him. Moments later Panthro drifted back into a deep sleep, but he dreamed of his savior the entire time.