"What do you think you’re doing, slave!?"

In surprise and alarm, Alluro opened his eyes and jerked toward the doorway of the slave clinic. There were still a few hours before dawn, and since most injured slaves arrived at the hospital after the breakfast scraps, the hypnotist had been trying to let his mind drift in a futile effort to mimic sleep. He’d been fairly confident that none of the other slaves would catch him, and he’d been certain that no slave driver would. Slave drivers almost never entered the slave clinic, and when they did, it was always during the afternoon.

But to his misfortune, Greeb and three other slave drivers greeted Alluro’s tired, blood-shot eyes that morning. "I’m sorry, masters," the Lunatac whispered. "I’m unworthy of my life as a slave and I apologize for my stupidity." The apology came automatically, a conditioned response that drove captivity home every time it was uttered. There was a time when Alluro would have refused to say such things. There was a time when his dignity would have revolted violently. But arrogance and pride had long since been replaced with despair and apathy. The hypnotist no longer cared what he said as long as it kept him out of trouble. He thought of this as an adaptation. If he’d stopped to think about it, he might have been frightened to realize just how many adaptations he’d made. But Alluro didn’t permit himself to think about it, and that was yet another adaptation.

"Your mind was wandering during your waking hours," Greeb accused. "What are the rules concerning that?"

"When a slave is awake, its only purpose is to serve humanity," Alluro answered with a resigned sigh. Because Pumyra and Tygra needed almost constant supervision, the hypnotist had been denied sleep for several days. He’d tried to make up for it through hypnotic exercises, but these were strictly forbidden even though for most of his waking hours, the Lunatac had been doing nothing. Alluro wondered how they would punish him for this lapse in discipline and hoped it would require that they put him to sleep for recovery.

"Wake the two slaves under your care."

The hypnotist blinked. At the very least, he’d expected to be beaten or told to bare his back for a whipping. "What did you—"

"Must I repeat myself, slave?"

"No, master," Alluro hastily amended. Amazed with the morning’s leniency, the Lunatac decided not to push his luck. He quickly made his way over to Tygra and disconnected the tiger. There was an almost instant groan as the collar began to force the Thundercat out of sleep. Ignoring the waking process, Alluro turned to Pumyra and disconnected her as well.

Greeb stepped forward and Alluro obediently stepped back. It was actually more of a cowering shuffle than a step backwards, but Alluro kept insisting to himself that he still maintained a degree of dignity. As Greeb yanked Tygra into a sitting position by the throat, Alluro was forced to look away. It wasn’t that he felt any compassion toward the two cats. Nothing sentimental like that. It was the fact that everything Greeb did to the felines had been done to Alluro. And every time Alluro watched it happen, the memories of his own interrogation period sprang to mind.

"Stay up," the slave driver warned Tygra as he slapped him hard across the face. The groggy tiger recoiled, shook his head in confusion, looked at Greeb, and then quickly averted his eyes. Greeb released Tygra’s throat and repeated the process with Pumyra. Through it all, Alluro waited to be dismissed so that the interrogation period could resume. He cast his eyes longingly toward the door, but a hint of movement froze the hypnotist. Shadows were entering the clinic. Focusing his bleary eyes, he recognized the bulky hulk of Slithe and the slender forms of Lucaina and Chilla. And with them, additional slave drivers.

Cold dread settled in the Lunatac’s heart. It was too much of a coincidence that brought those particular three slaves to the clinic along with a host of sadistic, torture-happy humans, especially in the early morning hours. Something was up. Something that probably involved Plun-Darr and Thundera.

"Follow us," Greeb suddenly announced, startling Alluro from his thoughts. "Help the useless ones along, but do not slow our pace."

The slave drivers left the slave clinic and started off into the darkness. Hastily, Alluro pulled Pumyra’s arm over his shoulder and followed them. Slithe was quick to do the same with Tygra. Both Thundercats were completely dazed, not comprehending what was happening but obeying without question. Alluro felt his heart sinking. If they were already broken, he could bid all hopes of escape goodbye. As much as he hated to admit it, the hypnotist had placed his remaining faith in the two felines. He’d accepted them as his last chance for freedom. But with the way they were acting now…

Alluro noted that Chilla had fallen back to walk beside him. In the darkness, her welts and scars were hard to see, and the hypnotist was almost reminded of the haughty ice warrior from days gone by. But even as these thoughts crossed his mind, Chilla turned her face toward him and all memories of the past were banished by her haunted eyes. This shell of a woman was at most a faint echo of her former self. Alluro wondered what he looked like to her and was grateful that mirrors were forbidden to slaves.

"How are they?" the cold one whispered, her hoarse voice barely audible.

"I don’t know," Alluro murmured, glancing at the puma stumbling next to him. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was drawn into a firm line as she tried to hold in cries of pain. Shaking his head, Alluro turned back to the Lunatac he’d once thought of as Chilla. "I don’t know," he repeated. "But I don’t think that—"

"SILENCE!"

A whip snapped across Alluro’s back and he was forced to steady himself against Chilla to keep from falling over. Pumyra moaned softly at the sudden movement but didn’t bother to look up, taking the punishment as just another part of the morning. "No talking," Greeb ordered sternly.

Alluro nodded humbly and continued to trudge forward. He could hear Pumyra’s labored breathing and he could hear suppressed whimpers. Judging from all she’d suffered in her hasty interrogation period, it wouldn’t surprise Alluro if she died from sheer pain. It would be the most merciful thing that had happened to any of them in a long time. "Go ahead and give up," he whispered gently to the Thundercat, his voice so soft that even Pumyra had trouble hearing him. "Give it up," he whispered again, adding a touch of hypnotic power to his voice. He was asking for trouble with that. If caught, he would be beaten within an inch of his life. His powers and Chilla’s powers were blasphemous to the humans. But a strange feeling of compassion had wormed its way into Alluro’s tattered soul, and Pumyra was the object of his mercy. "It’s okay," he continued. "You can just let go. You’ll be free."

"No," the puma muttered. "No, I can’t. The tiger…I have to stay for him."

Alluro looked up and spotted Slithe and Tygra. The tiger appeared to be supporting some of his own weight, and his eyes were open. Maybe there was still hope after all. "We’ll watch him," Alluro told the puma. "We’ll watch him for you."

Pumyra shook her head. "No, we—we made a deal yesterday."

Alluro’s mind shot backwards as he tried to understand what the Thundercat was talking about. Yesterday…yesterday she and the tiger had been awake for part of the afternoon. But he didn’t think either one was coherent enough to say anything. He hadn’t been with them the whole time, though. Maybe while he was away…

"What kind of a deal?" he asked.

"We’re a team," the puma sighed wearily. "We stay together or—or we leave together. And we will—we will leave this place soon. Even if escape is impossible."

Alluro’s breath caught in his throat. The implication was clear, and though Alluro had often pondered the thought of suicide, it was not something he’d expected a Thundercat to say. Looking closely at the feline that leaned against him for support, the Lunatac tried to evaluate her mental health. It seemed as though the Kentroans had managed to break Tygra and Pumyra of their Thundercat ideals. Maybe this would work to Alluro’s advantage. With the Code of Thundera beaten out of their hearts, there was no telling what these two were capable of. They could become the perfect allies!

An awkward sensation overcame the Lunatac’s face and it took him a minute to realize that he was smiling. It was a strange feeling, and Alluro remembered that he hadn’t smiled in a very, very long time. Chilla caught it and looked at him questioningly, but he only shook his head and quickly banished the grin. He didn’t want to get her hopes up. He was only guessing at this point. But if his guess was right…

Alluro suddenly froze. He didn’t know why and he couldn’t explain it, but he felt glued in place. Had he wanted to, he could not have taken another step forward. He was frozen in fear. The feeling had come so suddenly that Alluro couldn’t get a handle on it. But he could sense that it came from an outside source. The feeling was not his own.

Looking around, Alluro discovered that he wasn’t the only one held motionless by this unnatural fear. The whole procession of guards and slaves had come to an abrupt halt. And as Alluro turned his eyes toward their destination, he discovered why. Before them, not more than a hundred meters away, loomed a tall black pyramid. It lacked the four pillars from Third Earth and Thundera, but there was no mistaking the design. There was no mistaking the aura of evil that surrounded the structure. And there was no mistaking the laugh that suddenly filled the air around them and mocked their hopeless plight. With a flash of insight, Alluro knew, Slithe knew, Chilla knew, and though still recovering, Tygra and Pumyra knew. As one, they realized the depth and danger of their situation. And as one, they realized the identity of their true adversary.

Mumm-Ra.

"Status," Alphon barked.

"Fifteen minutes," his navigator replied quickly.

"Sir? We’re within sensor range of the Fire Zone," another wolf reported off to the side. "But we won’t be within viewing range for another few minutes."

"What can we make out?"

There was a moment of silence and then a rather hesitant reply. "They’re completely surrounded. And they’re being destroyed. We’ve got readings of plasma leaks, ion residue, metallic debris corresponding to both Thunderian and Lunatac build, laser burns—"

"Enough," Alphon snarled. "Are there any survivors?"

"Yes, there’s a handful of ships banding together in the center. Kentro isn’t making any immediate moves against them, but the alliance has no chance of breaking that circle."

The alpha male growled softly. "What about our other wolf fleets? How far away are they?"

"We’re the closest. The Marauder II fleet isn’t far behind us and a pack of long-range scouting ships are running even with them, but other than that…"

Alphon closed his eyes and let out a long breath of frustration. "Not even enough to distract them." He rubbed his hand behind his dark gray ears and shook his head. "Gunner, prepare the weapons. Communications, I want a message relayed to the Marauder II pack. We’re going in fast with full weapons and shields, then darting out again. We’ll try to regroup and make another run. It will have to be a hit and fade attack. We don’t have the numbers for anything else."

Alphon’s navigator cleared his throat. "Sir, will that be enough?"

"No," the wolf said quietly. "But unless the First Pack provides another way, it’s all we can do."

Swift as darting shadows, Leonari, Panthro, and TugMug made their way down the long corridors of the Bi-Dimensional Gun. They saw very few guards, and those they did see were quickly and efficiently dispatched. So far, their mission had been easy. But each knew that the greatest task still lay ahead.

"I don’t remember the gun being this long," Panthro finally hissed, checking behind them for any signs of discreet pursuit. "We should have come out the other end by now."

"You’d think so," Leonari murmured. She clutched her twin daggers tightly and flattened herself against a wall, slowly inching her head around a corner. "Clear," she whispered, relaxing slightly.

TugMug, still fuming over the fact that he was stuck with two Thunderians, cocked his gravity carbine and moved forward. "Clear," he confirmed with a grunt. The two Thundercats moved behind him, and together, they again started their slow procession down the hallways. "Think we can speed this up?" the gravity Lunatac abruptly demanded.

"And jeopardize our own safety as well as the fleet’s?" Panthro asked. "Smart idea, Lunatac. Real smart."

"Well if you’re so bright, then why don’t you—"

"Quiet!" Leonari snapped, cocking her head and holding a hand up. "Listen. Do you hear that?"

Panthro stopped his arguing and paused for a moment. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I do hear it. What do you think it is?"

"Sounds like a generator," TugMug whispered tentatively.

"We must be close," the lioness realized. "We’re almost there. So what’s our next move?"

"Let’s try and get closer," Panthro decided. "We’ll need to distract everyone into our hallways so that Cheetara, Glacion, and Hypnon can get to the generator itself."

"The actual distraction will be easy, but how do we avoid being captured?" Leonari asked. "They’re sure to activate all the alarms they can, and we aren’t familiar with this gun’s layout. We could easily get lost."

"If we split up, we could divide the forces and then try fighting," TugMug grumbled. Sneaking around and avoiding fights was beginning to try his patience.

"No," Panthro refused. "We aren’t separating. I’m already worried about finding the other three when this is all over. If we split up anymore, we’re just asking for trouble. No, we stay together. But we need to determine our next move."

"Maybe there’s an alarm we can trip around here somewhere," Leonari mused. "Some kind of intruder alert or something."

"If they were equipped with something like that, wouldn’t it have gone off already?" TugMug asked.

"Not if it was manual," the lioness answered.

TugMug snorted. "We’re just wasting time. And you, Panthro, already pointed out that we have no time to waste. Let’s just march down this hall, pick a fight, and get them to bring all their friends."

"The direct approach does have its advantages," Panthro said slowly. "And as much as I hate to admit it, Lunatac, you’re right about time. If we do it that way and retreat fast enough, they won’t be able to get behind us. And the hallways aren’t big enough for them to all come at us at once."

"Then let’s do it," Leonari said with a shrug. "I can’t think of anything better."

"Finally," TugMug sighed. "I live to hear something intelligent leave a cat’s mouth."

Snoedaro managed to extinguish yet another electrical fire, but the Scabbard was a wreck. There were three working control panels on the command deck: navigation, communications, and sensors. They had no weapons, and they had no way of allowing the more vulnerable Daggers to dock with them. Waving smoke aside and attempting to make hasty repairs on the shield generators, Snoedaro grimly wondered why he was even still trying.

The lights in the Scabbard were fading as the environmental systems started to go down. Pausing briefly, Snoedaro concentrated inward and consciously lowered his body temperature by several degrees, slowing his breathing and heartbeat. It would make him sluggish, but the oxygen in the ship would last a little longer.

"Rowr, that looks like a mess," a labored voice whispered behind him.

Snoedaro’s eyes widened and he whirled around. "Bengali?!"

The white tiger grinned through a mask of charred fur and ragged cuts. "I sure am glad to see you."

"How in Thundera did you get on my Scabbard?"

"Kentro has good aim; I’ll give them that much," the tiger murmured as he slumped to the deck. Snoedaro was instantly at his side, supporting the tiger and trying to help his ragged breathing. "They blew out the engines and caused a feedback in the plasma coils," Bengali continued, speaking as though lost in a dark dream. "The reactor went critical and we scattered. I—I think I was the only one to make it to an escape pod. Rowr, it’s a good thing that there are maneuvering thrusters on those. I couldn’t send communication—the pod was damaged in the blast—but I could receive communication. So I traced all your signals until I found your ship, slipped in through the hull breaches in the back, managed to get into the airlock, and then I pulled myself inside."

The snow leopard stared at the white tiger in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that you flew an escape pod through all the fighting following sporadic communication trails and—"

"Can we not talk about that?" Bengali asked weakly. His hand was clutching his side where a growing stain of red darkened his uniform, and his jaw was clenched tight. "What’s important is that we can go out together as a team." The tiger struggled away from Snoedaro’s support, trying to get a look at what the snow leopard had been doing. "Need a hand?"

"Your ribs fractured, didn’t they?"

"They didn’t fracture," Bengali argued weakly. "They just slid out of place."

"We’ve got to get you some medical help," Snoedaro protested, moving back to the tiger’s side.

Bengali waved him away. "No time. What good would it do? By the time you set my ribs, we’d be dead. No, go up to the command deck. Let me repair the shield generator. Command the civilians. You’re the last Thundercat able to lead."

The white tiger’s statement froze Snoedaro. That thought hadn’t occurred to him, but it was true. Panthro, Cheetara, and Leonari were trying to provide the distraction the wolves should have provided. Bengali was badly wounded and unable to stand, much less analyze situations coherently. As far as the Thunderian squadrons were concerned, Snoedaro was in complete control.

"All right," the snow leopard whispered. "Be careful back here and don’t strain yourself. If you need anything—"

"Just get us out of here," Bengali coughed, already pulling himself toward the smoking shield generator. "That’s all any of us need."

"Where is that distraction?" Glacion hissed impatiently as he crouched in a narrow alcove with Cheetara and Hypnon. "They should be in position by now. We should have heard something."

"Patience," Hypnon soothed. "Nothing is ever gained in haste."

"Don’t try any of your mental tricks on me, hypnotist," Glacion snapped angrily. "I tell you, something’s gone wrong. We should be acting."

"And I thought Chilla had a short temper," Cheetara murmured.

"It comes with the breed," Hypnon informed her. He gave Glacion a long, hard stare. "You don’t want to rush into this prematurely. Give them a few more minutes. Besides, the cheetah and I are both psychic. We’ll know if anything goes wrong."

"If? More like when," Cheetara mumbled.

"What was that?"

The cheetah shook her head. She wasn’t about to admit to the two Lunatacs that her sixth sense had been insisting that something was wrong the moment they’d set foot on the Bi-Dimensional Gun. It wasn’t anything in particular; it was more a general feeling of foreboding. Cheetara had tried to find the source of her ominous feelings, but to no avail. She could find nothing to confirm her suspicions that something was about to go horribly wrong. But she could find nothing to deny those suspicions, either.

"Cheetara?"

She looked up into Glacion’s coal-black eyes and shivered. "I’m sorry. Were you saying something?"

The Lunatac frowned. "No, but we can’t afford to lose our concentration. The minute the other three distract the guards, we must make our move."

"I know," Cheetara said softly. "I’ll be ready."

Glacion and Hypnon exchanged looks, but there was nothing they could do. Cheetara had closed her eyes and was focusing inward, trying to command her erratic psychic powers and catch a glimpse of the others.

"There," Hypnon breathed.

"What?"

The hypnotist shook his head, unable to answer Glacion’s question. Hypnon’s limited psychic abilities had picked up on a disturbance and he was trying to close in on it. In the minds surrounding them, there was panic and confusion. He could hear Cheetara’s breath quicken, and he knew she could feel it, too. "Get ready," she whispered.

"Ready for what?" Glacion demanded.

An explosion rocked the station before either could answer him. "That’s it," Hypnon declared. Smoke shot into the corridor and alarms started to blare. "Come on, let’s go!"

But before they could move anywhere, a terrible moaning sound filled the ship and wires began sparking everywhere as circuits were overloaded.

"What in the name of the Moons is happening?" Glacion hollered.

"I think…I think TugMug crushed part of the hull," Cheetara answered hesitantly, not entirely sure of her feelings.

"No way," Hypnon protested. He had no idea what had actually happened though he could sense fear and horror, but the very idea of crushing the hull was ludicrous. "He’ll destroy ship integrity. A vessel this size can’t take the kind of pressure and sheer forces that would result from—"

Gravity abruptly altered and the three found themselves rolling through the hallways. "TugMug’s not that powerful," Glacion hissed. "The artificial ship systems must be going offline."

"Then let’s hurry so we can get out of here," Cheetara urged, stumbling to her feet and staggering down the lurching corridor.

"Cheetara! Duck!"

Instinctively, the cheetah flattened herself on the deck. Overhead, a stream of ice shot forward, frosting two guards hidden in the smoke. "Thanks," Cheetara gasped.

"Just remember that you owe me," Glacion shouted as he raced past her. "And try to keep up."

Cheetara stared. "You’re telling me to keep up?"

"Reptile? Do you see—"

"Yes," Slithe hissed, shushing the tiger before the guards noticed they were talking. The mutant was just as surprised and just as worried as Tygra at the sight of the pyramid, but he’d been a slave too long to react immediately. Too many strange things had happened during his stay for him to really take notice of anything anymore. But this…

"Forward, slaves."

Greeb’s voice was labored as though he, too, were straining under the weight of fear. It was eerie and Lucaina felt chills rushing up and down her back. She had never met the being that inspired this uncanny fear, and she intended to keep it that way. Normally obedient, she consciously locked her legs and closed her eyes, waiting for the whip to land.

But it didn’t. In fact, none of the slaves moved. They all stared at the pyramid in shock and disbelief. It just wasn’t possible. The rumors that Slithe, Chilla, and Alluro had heard were that Mumm-Ra had finally been banished forever. Pumyra and Tygra believed the mummy had been locked in the Book of Omens. Apparently, they’d been wrong. Very wrong.

The slave drivers began stirring reluctantly, as though moving would invite the wrath of the demon god they worshiped. They reached for their whips and knives, prepared to move the slaves forward by force if necessary. A harsh laugh echoed across the desolate landscape again, freezing everyone not already frozen.

"This is ridiculous," Greeb hissed, but he was pale as a ghost and sweat was beading on his forehead. "March forward, slaves!"

Still, the slaves refused to move. The night sky was fading as morning made its way toward SPT. Greeb’s orders were to get the slaves within the pyramid before first light and to collect them at the end of the day. First light was fast approaching and the slaves were still 100 meters from the pyramid. So Greeb did the only thing he could think of. It would tire the slave drivers, but he wanted to get away from that pyramid no matter what the cost.

"RESTRAIN!"

Even fear had to back down in the face of supreme pain. As the six slaves collapsed with a collective howl, the slave drivers hastily picked them up and raced toward the pyramid. Slithe recovered just in time to see the pyramid looming up before him and an opening appearing in the fitted blocks. The reptilian struggled, but his movements were weak and only served to hasten the pace.

"Throw them in!"

Pumyra was regaining some coherency when she found herself tumbling through the air, falling into a dark, dank opening, and landing roughly on a clammy floor of stone. Having a very good idea of where she was, the puma tried to get up and flee but was smashed back to the ground when a flying Alluro landed on top of her. Tygra landed a little further in with a sharp cry as his scarred back hit the floor, Lucaina tumbled in and slammed up against a distant wall, Slithe crashed to the ground near the entrance, and Chilla took a nose-dive to the floor not far from Alluro and Pumyra.

And then the six slaves were plunged into darkness as the opening in the stone sealed itself back up. There was no way out.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

TugMug winced at the question as he struggled with a stubborn human guard that just refused to go down. "It was an accident!" he yelled at Panthro.

"Some accident," Leonari snarled, dodging a laser blast and returning with shots of her own from scavenged weapons. "Thanks to you, this gun will collapse in a matter of minutes and we’ll go down with it. Didn’t I tell you not to point your gravity carbine at the hull?!"

"How was I supposed to know it was the hull?!" TugMug demanded. "Besides, weren’t we supposed to destroy this gun?"

"We were supposed to cause an explosion and general panic, not disrupt ship systems and allow the gun’s inner walls to breakdown while the outer shell retains its same appearance!" Leonari yelled.

"Well, at least it will be destroyed," TugMug grumbled.

"SO WILL WE!!!" Panthro roared, catching a human by the throat and launching him into a convenient wall. "And all our forces with us!"

"We can only hope that Cheetara figures out what’s going on," Leonari gasped, clutching at her thigh as an energy blast grazed her. "With any luck, she’ll rig a short fuse and this will still work."

"As if that cheetah could figure anything out on her own," the gravity Lunatac snorted. "She’ll probably just—"

"LOOK OUT!"

The shout came from not only Leonari, but many human soldiers as well. The hull of the gun was tearing apart and oxygen was rushing out of the hall.

Panthro aimed his nunchucks and fired a pair of explosive rockets at their human attackers. "Back to the ships!" he ordered when the resulting smoke created a partial screen. "It’s our only chance!"

But as they broke away from the fight and started to run, the hull breach swept the blinding smoke into space and the humans took up pursuit.

"I thought cheetahs were supposed to be fast!"

Cheetara looked up at Glacion with a glare that would have silenced Mumm-Ra. "I have to alter the timer or we won’t trigger an explosion in the reactor core. It will shut itself down before this detonator can do anything. Do you want this to succeed, or would you rather I go even faster and blow us all to oblivion in the process?"

"Easy," Hypnon whispered softly, wrapping his voice with soothing subliminal tones. His eyes were locked on the outer corridors, but with the inner hulls collapsing, most guards had fled the generator and tried to help the repair teams. The few engineers who’d stayed with the generator were frozen—literally—and stacked in a corner. "Keep working, Thundercat," Hypnon continued. "Glacion, help me keep watch."

The Ice Lunatac grumbled something obscene and continued to watch Cheetara as she frantically reprogrammed her detonator. The cheetah did her best to ignore Glacion, but it was difficult when icy breath kept landing on her back. Trying to find the calm center every warrior is taught to find, Cheetara closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and went back to work.

"We’re not getting any younger," Glacion hissed.

"You’re not getting any smarter," Cheetara retorted. She made what she hoped would be the final adjustment and attached the detonator to the reactor’s control panel. Keying in a few commands, she stepped back and crossed her fingers. When the timer started to count down, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, we’ve got five minutes. Let’s get out of here!"

"What do we do now?" Chilla whispered. There was a shiver to her voice, an odd sound given the fact that she was an Ice Lunatac.

"I don’t know about you, but I’m staying right here," Alluro hissed. At his side, he felt Pumyra nod in agreement. She was curling into a ball as fear drove away what little pride she had left.

"We have to get away," Slithe murmured. But no one made any attempt to turn around. Leaving was not an option. A wall of solid stone blocked their exit, and they all knew it. Turning to look at it would only confirm the hopelessness of the situation.

"Welcome," Mumm-Ra’s voice hissed at them. The walls around them were beginning to glow slightly. The poor light illuminated very little, but the slaves could now see one another as they crouched and cowered.

Tygra’s eyes were closed, his brow was furrowed, and he was shivering violently. Lucaina’s ears were flat against her head and a snarl was starting to lift her upper lip. Slithe’s eyes were growing hard and the tip of his heavy tail was twitching, though he’d long since lost the energy to swing it effectively. Pumyra refused to look at anyone, hiding her face in her hands and trembling even more. Chilla was sitting up and staring ahead down the dark corridors, and her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. Alluro had moved near the Ice Lunatac and was watching the hallway, too, trying to see what she saw. Not one of them moved closer to the main room of the pyramid.

"Please, come in," Mumm-Ra laughed. "It has been a long time since any of you paid me a visit."

"Not long enough," Slithe hissed.

"If you do not come voluntarily, we must do this the hard way," Mumm-Ra warned with a hint of glee in his voice. He seemed far too happy about the prospect of doing things the hard way.

"Master, if I may, this process is inefficient," a new voice whispered. "Allow me. I will bring these slaves to you."

The new feminine voice triggered something in Alluro. He glanced at Chilla and found her looking back at him questioningly. She also found this voice strangely familiar. A gasp from the other side of the dark corridor turned them both. Tygra had gone ghostly pale, a bad sign considering his red coloration, and dawning realization had taken over his face. The tiger had figured something out. Alluro wished he could move toward the tiger and question him, but he feared attracting the attention of these voices. It was best to stay as motionless as everyone else.

"Very well, priestess," Mumm-Ra answered. "The task of moving the slaves into the cauldron room is yours."

Gentle steps were now echoing down the dark corridor. Their lightness was an odd contrast to the feelings of gloom and doom. The magical glow increased and the black walls around the slaves could now be seen. Tygra was slowly moving toward Pumyra who bore the same expression as Alluro and Chilla. The feminine voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Before the priestess stepped into view, Tygra made it to Pumyra’s side and whispered something in her ear. The puma turned as pale as the tiger and stared at him in shock. He nodded, and for the second time, Alluro wished he knew what they knew. But after a few more moments, it didn’t matter anymore.

The priestess appeared from the dark recesses of the pyramid and moved toward them. Her cloak swirled around her and her hood shrouded her face in darkness. But the green feline eyes that peered out from the blackness drove home long-forgotten memories for both Chilla and Alluro. Sensing their recognition, the priestess paused and lifted her hands to her face. With one swift movement, she pushed the hood back and allowed her full mane to fall down. Two black stripes ran down her hair and her shoulders were spotted. A smile as evil as the dark arcane swept across her face and the feline laughed.

"It seems you are having many reunions today, slaves," she observed. "I can’t tell you how long I have waited for this moment."

"Who are you?" Lucaina asked. She kept looking at the two Lunatacs and the two Thundercats. They obviously recognized this priestess, but she and the reptile were completely in the dark.

"Ask the striped slave," the feline hissed, her eyes narrowing in hate and anger. "Seven years ago, his actions banished me."

"You banished yourself," Tygra growled, clutching at his ribs as his voice rose above a whisper. "I had nothing to do with it."

"RESTRAIN!" the priestess snapped. Screams echoed up and down the corridors as the slaves collapsed in pain and convulsions. "How dare you say that to me?" she continued after the pain subsided and they’d begun to recover. "How dare you? Believe me, slave, I will make you pay for your insolence."

"Who are you?" Slithe groaned, echoing Lucaina’s question. He was used to being punished, but he did like to know why.

"Who am I?" the priestess asked, glaring at the Thundercats. "Either one of you, speak up. Who am I?"

"From what I can see, you’re as much a slave as we are," Tygra finally gasped out, anger and hatred clearly written in his voice. "Only you’ve sold your services to—"

"RESTRAIN!"

There was another round of screams, and in the background, the slaves could hear Mumm-Ra laughing. As the pain began to subside, his laughing grew clearer. "You are not having much success, my priestess."

"Patience, master," the ocelot woman replied obediently. "I will begin shortly." She turned back to the slaves. "Again. Who am I?"

Chilla found herself silently praying that Tygra would not answer the question. He’d only get them into more trouble. Much to her relief, it was the puma who spoke up.

"You used to rule a proud people, but you abandoned them for your own designs." The priestess hissed while there were collective groans from the other slaves. Apparently, Pumyra was not good at answering questions, either. "And your name is—"

"RESTRAIN!" The ocelot glared at Pumyra with seething fury. "You are a slave. You’re not worthy of a name yourself, and I will certainly not allow you to blaspheme mine."

"Then what do you want us to say?" Pumyra whispered when she managed to stop screaming. She was close to relapsing into a conscious coma.

"That I am your master, I am your superior, and you have no choice but to obey me. Say it!"

"I see you have not changed," Tygra murmured. He raised his weary head and locked eyes with the priestess. Before she could even begin to react, the tiger continued. "You are as arrogant as ever, and it will be your undoing. You and I are the same species. The idea of superiority is a foolish notion, and those who do not know you have a right to know their oppressor. You are an ocelot. Your ancestors came from my home planet. Your people banished you for your crimes. And your name is Celotta."

There was a long moment of silence. Celotta stared at Tygra with such hatred that the other slaves began to crawl away, afraid to be caught in the crossfire. But there was nowhere to go. And so they watched with dread as a furious ocelot reached into an alcove on a wall and brought forth a cat-o’-nine-tails. The deadly whip glistened in the dim light and Celotta’s eyes gleamed with murderous rage.

"RESTRAIN!"

"DUCK!"

Leonari and TugMug flattened themselves to the deck on Panthro’s command. Ahead of them, a section of the wall disappeared. "Disintegration weapons?!" TugMug demanded. "Those have been outlawed since—"

"Outlawed by our treaties, not by theirs," Panthro interrupted, pulling the two to their feet and shoving them down the hall. "Keep moving!"

The trio continued their mad dash to the ships, trying to ignore the shots coming from behind. There were no guards in front of them. The evacuation orders had been blasted over the intercoms and with the exception of the squadron chasing the Lunatac and two Thundercats, all the humans had already left in escape pods.

"We’ve got to move faster!" Leonari urged. TugMug was firing his gravity carbine before them, trying to insure a stable field of artificial gravity, but even more ship systems were starting to fail. The cold of outer space was already setting in, and the bulkheads were groaning and buckling as the gun began to collapse.

"If you can think of a way to speed this up, by all means, suggest it," the Lunatac snapped. He could feel the fluctuations in the ship’s gravitational field, and they were increasing exponentially. It was only a matter of minutes before the gun pulled itself apart.

"Quit talking and start—argh!"

A laser bolt caught Panthro in the calf. He felt his Achilles’ tendon burn away and his calf muscle snap. He might have even screamed, but he wasn’t certain. He was in too much agony to tell. He felt himself falling and he knew he was in the direct line of fire. He had to get out of the way or he would be destroyed by the next shot. Crippled by pain and unable to run any further, Panthro lurched to the side of the corridor and tumbled up against the wall. Clutching at his useless leg, the panther glanced back down the hall and froze. The disintegration gun was trained on the Thundercat.

Panthro looked toward Leonari and TugMug to tell them to keep going. With his leg, he couldn’t move out of the way and he couldn’t dodge the gun for long. And he certainly couldn’t escape. But before his orders could make it past his lips, he was hoisted over a hard metal shoulder and the race was back on.

Panthro’s breath was jolted out of him as TugMug bounced down the corridor with Leonari close behind. "What are you doing?" he managed to gasp between jumps.

"Shut up," TugMug growled. "And don’t expect me to save you again."

"But I—"

Panthro was again cut off as a second laser blast knocked TugMug sprawling. Panthro’s head crashed against the floor and with dimming vision, he caught a glimpse of the Lunatac rolling to a stop further down the hall. Leonari cried out as another laser blast caught her in the arm. The escape was falling apart around Panthro and with fading sight, he glared balefully at the human guards who were racing toward them. For the second time, the disintegration gun came up and focused on him. And this time, Panthro knew there was no way out.

He could hear TugMug moaning as he struggled to get up. He could hear Leonari hissing in pain as she cradled her injured arm. But he couldn’t look at either of them. Like the true warrior that he was, Panthro stared down his death. The human holding the disintegration gun smiled slightly in sadistic pleasure. Panthro saw the trigger shift. He could almost see the blast coming his way. And then out of the corner of his eye, as unconsciousness moved to claim him, he saw Leonari. She was also watching the deadly weapon, and with one arm dangling uselessly against her side she was diving between him and the blast. He tried to cry out. To stop her. To get her out of the way! To prevent what was about to—

"NOOOOOO!!!"

"There they are!"

"On screen!" Alphon ordered. He soon regretted the order.

The Fire Zone loomed before the pirate ships, beautiful and exotic. But just before the Fire Zone, almost insignificant in comparison, was a gathering of ships. Kentro ships.

"Magnify," the wolf ordered, though hope was already beginning to fail him.

The sensor officer obediently magnified the image and the wolves gasped. In the center of the Kentro ships, huddled together as though to make a last stand, was a small collection of Thunderan and Lunatac fighters.

"We’re too late," someone behind Alphon whispered in despair.

"There’s not such thing as ‘too late’," Alphon growled, realizing his earlier plan of hit-and-run was insufficient and quickly thinking up another. "Tell our fighters to spread out. We’ll attack that Kentro line all at once and with any luck, some of us will break through. Tell the Marauder II to join us when they arrive." The leader of the mutant wolves waited expectantly for his orders to be carried out, but there was a moment of hesitation. Whirling on his officers, the wolf was met with wary looks and uncertainty. "Did I not make myself clear?"

"Sir, what’s the point? They’re doomed. It’s best to conserve our forces and—"

"Have you lost all sense of honor?" Alphon demanded. "Though they are different, those fighters out there are pack with us. They are our brothers and sisters. They fight for our cause. I will not abandon them. I will not turn tail and slink back into the darkness where the other mutants hide and cower. If I die in the doing, so be it." Alphon drew himself up straight and his ears flattened themselves against his head. "And if I must, I will die alone. I will die without the pack, but I will not die without my honor. It is better to die packless with honor than to live honorless with pack."

His words struck a nerve in the surrounding wolves. Hastily, they started to relay his orders and organize the attack. Alphon turned away from them and looked back out the viewing screen. He knew what he was doing was hopeless. He knew that they would die. But the sense of pack was strong with the alpha male, and in his heart, he was at peace. "I am coming, my pack," he whispered, hoping that somehow those trapped by the Kentro forces would hear his words and find comfort. "I am coming. You will not die alone."

The halls were deserted. Cheetara felt she might have been running in a long tomb. The only sounds were the blaring alarms, a sound she’d become accustomed to, and the shrieking of metal as it rippled and buckled. She was not used to that sound yet.

The cheetah glanced over her shoulder and paused. Hypnon and Glacion were trying to keep up with her, and though she was running nowhere near her top speed, they were still falling behind. "Come on!" Cheetara urged, pausing a moment to wait for the Lunatacs. "Time’s almost up!"

"Some of us aren’t built to run away," Glacion spat, heaving for breath as he caught up with the cheetah.

"Speed isn’t just for running away," Cheetara snarled dangerously as she took off again.

"Save your breath and let’s just get out of here," Hypnon panted. "Come on, Glacion, you’re not as tired as you think you are."

"I swear by the Moons of the Ancestors that if you try one more hypnotic trick like that on me again, I’ll—"

But Glacion was interrupted as Cheetara suddenly pitched forward in front of him and crashed to the deck, clutching her head and curling into a tight ball.

"Now what?!"

Hypnon was the first to reach the fallen cheetah, and he could see immediately that her sixth sense had overpowered her conscious mind. "Cheetara, come back," the hypnotist whispered urgently. "Come back to us, now!"

"I—I don’t—I can’t see—"

"We don’t have time for this," Glacion interrupted roughly, pushing the hypnotist out of the way and catching Cheetara up in his arms. "Come on. It’s now or never."

Without another word, Glacion took off down the collapsing corridors with Hypnon right behind him. In his cold arms, Cheetara moaned and shivered. Her face was drawn into taut lines of concentration and she showed no signs of relaxing. "I’d give anything to know what you see, Thundercat," the Ice Lunatac whispered. "But it will have to wait until we get out of here. And we will get out of here."

"Glacion! Look!"

Glacion looked ahead of him and saw the opening to the docking station. "We’re almost there. Let’s just hope the others are already here and we can leave."

He and the hypnotist swung through the open doors and made a beeline for their ships. "Doesn’t look like they’re here yet," Hypnon heaved as he glanced around the docking station. His eyes came to rest on the Thunder Daggers and the Lunar Scouts. He felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw that falling beams had destroyed one of the Scouts, another Scout was on fire, and one of the Daggers had been pulled into space. "They’d better get here soon or we won’t have any ships left."

"How much longer do we have?" Glacion demanded.

"One minute before the initial detonation, and after that, another minute before this whole ship goes up in flames."

"Two minutes," Glacion murmured. "Maybe we should go…" The Ice Lunatac trailed off and looked down at Cheetara. The cheetah was stirring and beginning to stretch. Her hands stayed clutched to her head, though, and her mouth was still drawn into a grimace of pain. "Cheetara?"

"You can put me down," the cheetah whispered, keeping her eyes closed. "I’ll live."

"What happened?" the ice Lunatac asked as he gently stood her up next to him.

"A psychic impression," she whispered as she steadied herself on her feet. "So vivid and so close that I…it hit me so hard." Cheetara opened her eyes slightly and looked around. "Where is the rest of our team?"

"We don’t know," Hypnon answered darkly. "They’re not here yet and we have just over a minute to get out of here before this place tears itself apart."

"Wait 40 seconds for me," the Thundercat instructed. "If I’m not back by then, go ahead and get out of here."

"Cheetara? Where are you—"

But it was too late. Cheetara was already gone.

"Dagger 5, bank left!" Snoedaro ordered hoarsely in the smoke-filled control room. His voice was shot and he himself was totally spent. The Kentro forces were moving in fast now and the remaining Daggers and Lunar Scouts were hard-pressed to keep the forces at bay. After a blast of static and a flash of light, all contact had been lost with RedEye’s ship. Snoedaro had been unable to reestablish contact and eventually assumed the worst. So many others had already died, why not RedEye? And now the Thundercat’s own Scabbard was breaking apart. Snoedaro had ordered the entire crew into escape pods and was preparing to launch them, but he wanted to hold out until the last moment. Escape pods would make easy potshots for the Kentro forces.

"They’ll never blow that gun in time, will they?"

The snow leopard jumped and turned. He’d been certain he’d gotten everyone to an escape pod. "Bengali? How did you—"

"Your shield generator is beyond repair. It needs to be replaced. I figured I could be of more help up here," the white tiger answered wearily as he leaned against a wall for support.

"You crazy tiger, you can barely stand! What makes you think you can be of any help to me here?"

Bengali smiled slightly. "I knew you’d ask that, my friend. Watch." With obvious effort, the white tiger pushed himself off the wall and stumbled forward to a smoking weapons console. "I’m now going to repair this," he announced.

Snoedaro shook his head in wry amusement. "Since we’re about to die anyway, you do whatever you want, Bengali. Just don’t get in the way."

Bengali looked as though he was about to respond, but he suddenly froze and stared out the forward viewing screen. "Snoedaro? Is that what I think it is?"

The snow leopard glanced up, started, stared, and slowly moved to Bengali’s side. "Wolves?"

The white tiger nodded. "Wolves. What are those traitors doing?"

"Are they within the static buoys? Can we contact them?"

"Why would we want to—"

"Just answer my question!"

Bengali stared at Snoedaro. "Probably. But I don’t see why you’d want to talk to the likes of them."

Snoedaro muttered something and raced toward communications. "Alphon? Alphon, can you read me?" The snow leopard waited impatiently, watching the approaching Kentro ships and the quickly moving wolf ships behind them. "Alphon!"

And then communications opened back in a blast of static, but buried within the static was a wolf’s voice. "Snoedaro, this is Alphon! We’re going to try and break the line. Get out if you can."

"Why weren’t you here?!" the leopard demanded. "Why weren’t you and the wolves—"

"We never heard about this," Alphon shot back with a snarl. "Now prepare to make a run for it."

"The gun," Bengali whispered. "The others are still at the gun. We can’t leave them."

Snoedaro nodded. "Alphon, we’ve got three Thundercats and three Lunatacs trying to blow up the Bi-Dimensional Gun and I’m not leaving until they come back or that gun explodes."

"You’re insane!" Alphon exploded. "We don’t even know if we can break the line around you. I know we can’t get to the gun."

"We’re not leaving until—"

"WE will break the line," a new voice interrupted, overriding all other communication channels.

Alphon froze, Snoedaro froze, and Bengali sat upright, instantly regretting it as his ribs screamed in pain. "Who are you?" the wolf demanded. "And what are you doing on—"

"Silence, or we will lose the advantage. We are cloaked and we are coming up behind you. Catch Kentro’s attention, wolf, and we will close from behind. We will break the line and the wolves will rescue those inside the gun if they still live."

"Who are you?!" Snoedaro growled. "Why should we trust you?"

"Trust him," Bengali heaved. "I know that voice. Trust him. He’s the only chance we’ve got."

"Bengali?" The strange voice was back on. "Bengali, is that you? We’d heard the tigers were rebelling again."

"Not all of us, Stealon," Bengali answered weakly.

"Stealon?" Snoedaro’s eyes narrowed. "Wasn’t Stealon the ocelot leader when you and Tygra—"

"Correct," Stealon answered. "Now prepare to retreat. We’ll only get one chance at this. Wolf, do you know your role?"

"I have a name, cat," Alphon snarled. "And I am more prepared to fight than any feline will ever be."

"Then prove it, wolf," Stealon growled back. "Prove it in battle. And then let us debate who is the superior species."

Alphon hissed, but he didn’t answer. On the forward screen, Bengali and Snoedaro could see the wolf ships accelerating. Kentro battalions were beginning to turn away from the circle to confront the oncoming ships. They were almost within firing range when…

"Look at that!" Bengali gasped. "Snoedaro, do you see it?"

Behind the wolves, wave after wave of large fighters were decloaking and advancing. Lasers began flying and neutron blasts lit the blackness of space.

"Thundercats and Lunatacs, get out of here!" Snoedaro roared over communications. He hit the engines of his own Scabbard and the ship shot forward with a groan, protesting all the punishment and abuse it had taken. Wires began sparking and then the navigation console blew. Snoedaro flew backward and slammed into a wall. Shaking his head, he tried to bring the spinning room into focus. A moaning sound filled the Scabbard and in one terrible moment, Snoedaro realized the engines were powering down. "Bengali, get on the intercom. Get everyone out of the escape pods and back at their posts, and get someone on the engines!"

Bengali nodded and started to move toward the necessary controls, but at that moment, the ship rolled violently to the side. The tiger crashed up against a dead sensor panel, and something deep inside him snapped. He collapsed to the ground in bitter pain, gasping for breath.

"Bengali?"

Snoedaro’s voice was little more than a droning buzz. Everything was becoming so blurred. The world was fading into a wash and even the bumping of the ship was growing faint as it moved farther and farther away. Or was Bengali doing the moving? The tiger couldn’t tell. It was becoming too difficult to concentrate. Maybe if he closed his eyes…just for a second…

"BENGALI!"

Cheetara didn’t see the falling support beam until it was too late. She tried to dive out of the way, but the visions from her sixth sense had taken their toll and she wasn’t fast enough. The heavy metal slammed down on her right leg, crushing her femur and bringing the cheetah close to unconsciousness. She thought she heard herself scream, but she wasn’t sure. The groans and protests of metal around her all but drove her deaf.

"Hold still!"

Another voice? Cheetara managed to raise her head and look back at the metal beam that had smashed her leg. "T-TugMug?"

The Lunatac grunted as he tried to push the beam off the cheetah. His gravity carbine was missing and he was forced to rely on sheer strength to move the reinforced metal. With a final heave, he managed to lift it just enough for Cheetara to move out of the way before it came crashing down again.

Cheetara gasped when she caught a glimpse of her leg. It was already swelling from massive internal bleeding and bent in several places where there were no joints. But a glimpse was all she was allowed, for TugMug grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up into a fireman’s carry. The cheetah almost blacked out again from the pain. She dimly remembered TugMug saying something about rescuing Thundercats, but that was all. The world was growing dark around her, and searing pain was threatening to destroy her sanity. She felt the Lunatac leaping forward, she floated for a while, and then she seemed to hear Hypnon and Glacion. Were they back to the ships already? But what about Panthro and Leonari? Where were they?

For another moment, she faded out. And then she was back. She could hear voices again. Glacion was saying something about being blocked off. Hypnon was saying something about escaping under the debris. And then…Alphon? Was that Alphon’s voice? What was he doing here? Or was she traveling back in time? Maybe forward. Reality seemed to be a very fluid thing. Was she moving? Shaking? Where was she? Why couldn’t she see?

Cheetara tried to call out. She tried to move. She tried to open her eyes. She tried to do anything, but she couldn’t seem to reach herself. It was as though she sensed everything from a distance. And something…something far away was calling her. Something that begged her to come. It was a strange call, one that demanded attention. The cheetah started to follow it, but then she stopped. What about her friends? They needed her help. They needed her to stay with them. But the call…the call was growing stronger. It was desperate and compelling, reaching out to her with a need and a longing she’d never felt before. No, she had to obey it. She had to follow the call.

Casting her hesitation aside, Cheetara released the last ties that bound her to her body. An instant later, she was gone.