Along the ocean shore, the couple danced an ageless dance from the time of a younger world. The moon lowered itself behind the sea that sparkled with diamonds from the sky, and they broke apart, breathless with excitement. Pumyra extended her arm, her movements fluid and graceful. He took her hand in his own and pulled her back to him, experiencing a thrill as her body melded against his. He bent to kiss those perfectly shaped lips, but even as he did so, Pumyra began to fade. Confused and alarmed, he called her name and clutched her tighter, but at his words, she flung her head back in a cry of piercing agony. From the darkness, Bengali came racing by and tore the fading form from the cougar’s arms, sweeping her away. The two vanished into the mists, leaving no trace of their passing. Sinking slowly to the ground, despair engulfed him with its slow, icy grip.

"Cougrois?"

Cougrois groaned and rolled over, his dream turning fuzzy as the voice broke through the flimsy barriers of sleep. The memory of Pumyra and Bengali faded away into the night.

"Cougrois? Cougrois, you have to get up. Panthro’s called a council meeting and he insists that everyone attend."

With a grumble and a stretch, the cougar managed to open his eyes. He was somewhat grateful that the dream had ended, but he was still tired. Looking up, he focused on the Thundercat leaning over him and rubbed his eyes. "Lynx-O? What time is it?"

"The sun just barely rose. I can feel the light coming in through the window. That probably makes it about six in the morning if you want to know the exact time," the lynx replied.

"Way too early for a council meeting," Cougrois decided as he rolled back over.

Lynx-O was not amused. Reaching down, he found a corner of the blanket Cougrois was using and pulled. "You must get up," the old Thundercat commanded, ripping the cougar’s covers away.

"Why?" The question sounded as though it came from a petulant child, but Cougrois didn’t care. His dream had been unsettling and his mind was still foggy with sleep. "What is so important that we have to discuss it at six in the morning?"

Lynx-O grimaced and his ears twitched as he listened for other sounds in the room. There were none. The two Thundercats were alone. Hesitating a moment more, he leaned down to the cougar’s ear. "Panthro said something about a possible change in leadership," the lynx hissed.

Cougrois was instantly awake. "Panthro said WHAT?!"

"Cheetara, I don’t have time for this," Panthro growled as Snoedaro awkwardly wheeled Cheetara’s bed behind the panther and Snarfer tried desperately to keep up with their rapid pace. "If you wish, you can bring up this topic at the end of the council. This discussion is now closed."

"But Panthro, I have proof that—"

"I SAID IT WAS CLOSED!"

Panthro’s voice stopped Snoedaro dead in his tracks. "Panthro?"

"I wouldn’t talk to me right now, Snoedaro," the panther snarled, not even bothering to look back at the three stunned Thundercats. "Save whatever you have to say for the council meeting. And somebody find Vultureman wherever he’s hiding and get him in there, too."

"That’s not like Panthro at all," Snarfer whispered as he watched the panther stalk out of sight. "What’s gotten into him?"

"Tahee must have said something to him this morning," Cheetara murmured. "But what could he have said that would get Panthro this upset? We should have asked him what the meeting was about."

"Probably what it’s always about," Snarfer sniffed. "The stupid rebels and the stupid war. And what to do about it all, even though nothing we’ve tried has worked."

"Do you want to be transferred to a wheelchair before the meeting?" Snoedaro asked Cheetara. "You might be more comfortable that way, and it could make you feel more mobile."

"No!" Cheetara sounded insulted. "I will not be put in a wheelchair. I will sit in my own seat and I will take part in the council from there. This bed is going back to sickbay."

Snoedaro frowned and turned to the snarf following them. "Snarfer, why don’t you go looking for Vultureman. I’m going to help Cheetara to the council chambers." The little snarf nodded and trotted off to find the vulture. "Are you sure about this?" he asked the cheetah as soon as Snarfer was out of earshot.

"I’m very sure about this," Cheetara answered. "I am a cheetah. I will not be seen helpless in a wheel chair."

"You’ll be pretty helpless without it," the snow leopard warned.

"Take the bed back to sickbay," Cheetara ordered forcefully. "If I have to, I’ll crawl to the council room."

"You won’t have to do that," Snoedaro assured her. "I just hope you know what you’re doing. Alphon told me that your leg injury might be more serious than you think. Has Panthro told you what they had to do to reset the bone?"

"What’s there to tell? I broke my leg and it still hurts. It will soon heal and I will be fine."

"You’re smarter than that, Cheetara," Snoedaro murmured, guiding her bed through the twisting halls to the infirmary. "Look at how swollen it still is. Think of how much it hurts when your painkillers wear off in the afternoon. There’s something wrong with that leg that the wolf healers didn’t fix."

"Are you a healer now?" Cheetara demanded. "I’ve told you, Snoedaro, Tahee has looked at it and Tahee—"

"Is no more of a healer than I am," Snoedaro interrupted. "He has ample experience for battlefield wounds, but he doesn’t know enough about the long term process of healing. Just promise me this, Cheetara. When Servalla wakes up, have her look at your leg. A full examination. Please?"

Cheetara sighed. The snow leopard was right, but she hated to admit it. Her greatest fear was the loss of her speed and acknowledging Snoedaro’s arguments meant accepting the fact that she was not yet out of danger. "Just to satisfy you," she finally growled. "When Servalla wakes, I will have her look at the leg. Until then, stop pestering me about it."

"It’s a deal," Snoedaro said quickly, knowing how much it had taken for Cheetara to consent to even that much. "Let’s get rid of this bed and then get to the council room."

The moment Snarfer stepped outside, he knew something was wrong. But he was sleepy enough that he couldn’t figure out exactly what was wrong. Elevating himself with his tail, he peered around the gathering of ships and tried to identify what was there that shouldn’t be or what wasn’t there that should have been. But things kept changing around Cat’s Lair so quickly these days that it was now almost impossible for anything to be anywhere on a permanent basis. With a frustrated growl, Snarfer lowered himself back to the ground and started looking for Vultureman.

"Snarfer!"

The snarf stopped and turned toward the raspy voice. He didn’t trust the wolf mutants and the fur along his back bristled as he watched Alphon walk toward him. The wolves had probably saved many of the Thundercats at the Fire Zone, but they were still mutants. And mutants, in Snarfer’s mind, were nothing if not treacherous. "What do you want?" he growled.

"Relay a message to Panthro. My command ship will leave no later than noon. He must find time to meet with me before then."

Snarfer stared at the wolf. "You expect Panthro to work around your schedule? If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of experiencing a crisis. What makes you so special, snarfer? You can stay here as long as you want and nothing will change. For us, everything is changing."

Alphon snarled in warning and his ears flattened. "And you think that for us, things are constant? How little you know, weakling. Out there, our patrols and assaults are all that stand between you and destruction. My pack is sacrificing their lives for you. I will not wait here while they must suffer. A leader guides his pack, and he guides his pack by fighting alongside them. Now relay your message."

Snarfer stiffened at the order, but he had no words for the wolf. Instead, he turned away and resumed his search for Vultureman.

"Must I repeat myself?"

Swinging back to the alpha male, Snarfer’s blazing eyes caught the wolf before he could say anything. "I heard you just fine, mutant," the snarf hissed. "And I’ll deliver your message. But I’m on another errand right now, and your message will have to wait."

A strange look rippled across the wolf’s face, but it was quickly gone. "What errand are you on?" Alphon asked casually. Perhaps a little too casually, but Snarfer had neither the training nor the patience to notice it.

"None of your business," the snarf grumbled, turning away. "But if you must know, I’m looking for Vultureman, snarfer, snarfer. Now leave me alone."

"He’s no longer here."

Snarfer froze. His ears twitched and he wondered if he’d heard the wolf correctly, but it made sense. Glancing at the assembled spacecraft, Snarfer realized what was wrong. Vultureman’s ship was missing. Turning back around, he caught Alphon’s yellow eyes and watched a flicker of uncertainty dart in and out. "Where did he go?" the snarf hissed.

"I had no interest in that. He left before the rising of the sun and good riddance," the wolf answered calmly. "You missed him by several hours, young one. If it is any consolation, he had nothing of value to tell the Thundercats."

Snarfer’s mouth dropped open. "You mean you knew he was leaving and just let him go?"

"I believe that is what I just said," Alphon answered testily. "And now that your errand has no purpose, deliver my message to Panthro. I will await his response."

"What am I, a message snarf?" Snarfer growled indignantly, but either Alphon didn’t hear or he pretended not to hear. He was already walking back to his own ship. "Oh boy, Panthro’s going to have it out with you," Snarfer hissed at the retreating figure. "Yup, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes, no sir, snarfer." And after one more glare at the wolf, Snarfer headed back into the Lair.

"Jaga take you," Lepora swore.

Wiley Kit looked over at her friend in surprise. "Something wrong?"

"You bet there’s something wrong. Control’s data, that’s what’s wrong," the leopard answered angrily. "Take a look at the scanners. See for yourself just how wrong Control’s Data is."

Confused and more than a little concerned, Kit moved to the scanner station and peered over Lepora’s shoulder. "Where am I looking?"

"Long range scanners and straight ahead."

Kit read through the data quickly, stopped, and went over it again. "I don’t understand. What’s going on? Shouldn’t that be a dead planet?"

"Yes, it should be," Lepora snarled. "At least, according to Control’s star charts it should be. Apparently they haven’t updated recently."

"How could they?" Kit asked gently. "They were destroyed almost a month ago."

"Yeah, but that’s more than a month old. Blast it, now what are we going to do?"

Kit straightened and started pacing, grateful that no one else was on the command deck to see her agitation. Focus, Kit, she told herself. As she’d been taught by Panthro and Tygra, she began to go over the problem in her mind and analyze it from every possible angle. The planet Lepora referred to was the planet where their fleet of Scabbards and Phantoms were supposed to set up base. From there, they would use the Phantoms to assault the Kentro Empire and attempt to draw its fire away from the Thunderan front. But the planet that was now only a few days away looked like the last place they wanted to set up a base. Long-range sensors had picked up a large fleet of Kentro ships and evidence of a Kentro outpost.

"So what are our options?" Kit murmured, thinking out loud. "We can forge ahead and be captured. Our Phantom technology will fall into Kentro hands and they will be able to scan real space from hyperspace and hyperspace from real space."

"Throw that option out," Lepora said, rubbing her temples.

"Next option then," Kit said, continuing to pace. "We can turn around and return to Thundera. It will take several days to get home, but they may need our help. However, the distraction will have been wasted and if there were any casualties, they’ll have died in vain. And the Phantoms will have to be used from Thundera. We’ll have to completely change our strategy and Kentro will come at us with full force instead of half the force they’d use if they thought there was a rebellion on one side of their empire. But at least Thundera will have more pilots and more ships."

"It’s better than the first option, but I don’t like it," Lepora commented. "Find a different one."

"We skip this planet and look for another base of operations," Kit answered. "It wouldn’t even have to be a planet. We’d just need somewhere with some kind of magnetic field that would throw off casual sensor sweeps. Once we find it, we proceed as planned. We won’t know exactly where the Kentro border is, but we don’t know that here, either. And it will take more time. Thundera might not be able to last much longer."

"Morale might become a problem, too," Lepora pointed out. "And I don’t like the time delay. Give me another suggestion."

"I’m running low," Kit cautioned. She thought for a minute. "We could backtrack about a day, call Thundera, and ask for advice. But our communications might be intercepted and if Kentro gets any whiff of this, it’s over. On the other hand, Thundera would know what we’re dealing with and they wouldn’t try anything because they’d know we weren’t in position."

"There’s a risk of letting Kentro know what’s going on," Lepora said quietly. "And we know that both the mutants and Lunatacs can monitor our communications. No, we can’t do that. Any other ideas?"

"I’m thinking," Kit answered. Her eyes narrowed and she ran her hand through her flaming red hair. Were there any options she’d missed? What else could they do? "I guess we could set up base here and adjust our position by the stars every time we shift. We’re be more mobile."

"And we’d have nothing to protect us from random scanners. Besides, there’s a Kentro base not more than two days away. No, that won’t work either. And the Scabbards really do need a geosynchronous orbit to conserve fuel. Otherwise, we won’t be able to go home when the time comes."

Kit shrugged. "Those are the options as I see them. I can’t think of anything else. You?"

"I don’t see any other options, either," Lepora sighed. "Let’s go back over them. We can keep going and try to take the Kentro base from the Kentroans. And we’ll fail. Besides that, they’ll know exactly where we are and try to come after us. No good. We could turn around and go back to Thundera, but everything we’ve just done will have been for nothing and we’ll have to change our strategy. We could try and find a new planet, but we have no idea where to look and it might take weeks, even months. We could call Thundera and ask for advice, but communications might be intercepted and then all bets are off. Or we could stop here and hope no one notices us." Lepora shook her head and looked at Kit. "So what do you think?"

"We can’t go back," Kit said firmly. "And no matter what, we can’t let Kentro know about the Phantoms. That means no communication and no dare devil moves. And it’s too dangerous to stay here. I guess…I guess our only choice is to keep looking and hope it doesn’t take too long."

"It’s probably the safest choice, aside from going home," Lepora agreed. "But maybe we should ask the other pilots."

"No!" Kit argued quickly. Lepora looked at her in surprise. "No," Kit repeated firmly. "This is not a democracy. This is a battalion unit and we are the leaders. We will make the decisions. If we start giving the pilots choices, they’ll start taking more power than they should. When we come to a life or death decision, we won’t be able to give any orders. It will become a matter for vote."

"I suppose you’re right," Lepora said reluctantly. "But it feels wrong. What gives us the right to decide their fate? They’re all volunteers. They weren’t ordered to come on this mission."

"They knew what was happening when they volunteered," Kit answered. It felt wrong to her, too, but she knew the truth of what she was saying. It had been drilled into her head countless times by Panthro as he went over battlefield tactics. "When they volunteered, they placed their lives in our hands. We have to maintain order. We have to be the ones giving instructions"

"And those instructions are?"

"We look for a new base," Kit said, beginning to work out the details in her mind. "We have every Scabbard running sensor sweeps. If we get desperate, we start sending out Phantoms to scout possible areas. We look for nebulas, asteroid belts, dead systems, dying stars, anything that will shield us from sensors and give us a permanent place to regroup. We stay close to the Kentro border and put every ship on second alert status. We avoid contact with any travelers and we stay in hyperspace. We keep communication between ships to an absolute minimum."

Lepora nodded. "I’m glad you’re here with me, Kit. I could never do this without you. My mind doesn’t work that way."

"You’re a better pilot than I am," Kit responded. "We’ll need you more when we actually find a base and start our real mission."

The leopard smiled. "Sounds like we’re both indispensable, then. We’d better take care of ourselves. So do you want to give the orders, oh wise strategist?"

Wiley Kit blushed. "It would be a pleasure." She moved to communications and opened a channel, careful to keep the range limited so that no outside ears could hear the coded transmission. "This is Scabbard Alpha calling all Scabbards. There has been a change of plans. We—"

Lepora was studying the sensors and reprogramming their search parameters, so she didn’t see exactly what happened next. But she heard most of it. There was a strangled cry followed by a hard thud. Lepora swung around was greeted by the sight of Kit collapsed on the floor, babbling incoherently about darkness and pain. Trying to take the situation in stride, Lepora reached for communications control. "Scabbards, full stop and move to second alert status. Instructions will be forthcoming. Repeat, full stop and move to second alert status." With that, Lepora closed the channel and turned to Kit. There were beeps as the other Scabbards tried to reestablish contact, but the leopard ignored them. Gathering Kit into her strong arms, she cradled the Thundercat’s head and tried to wake her up. "Kit? Kit, come on! What’s going on now? Kit, this isn’t funny anymore!"

"Kat," Wiley Kit moaned. "Kat, he’s…he’s leaving! No! No, Kat, come back. Kat! KAT!!! Don’t leave me, Kat! Please don’t leave me!"

"Wiley Kit!" Lepora shouted. "Listen to me, Wiley Kit. Your brother isn’t here. You’re in space. He’s not here. He can’t be leaving you. He’s safe at home on Thundera."

"Pain," Kit hissed. "So much pain. No, Kat, don’t leave! The pain can’t last. It will get better. You can’t go. Blast it, Kat, you can’t! WILEY KAT!!!"

Agitation showing as it had never shown before, Panthro paced around the council table. Not knowing what else to do, Lynx-O, Cougrois, Cheetara, and Snoedaro watched him in concerned silence. No one dared to speak. Panthro’s flashing eyes and continual growl were enough to ward off any possible questions or remarks. Minutes passed and still he paced. Cheetara could hear the creaking of his metal leg brace and wondered if all Panthro’s activity was causing him any pain. If it was, he didn’t show it. But even if he was ignoring his injured leg, it was still injured and needed rest. Someone should say something. Preferably someone other than herself. Panthro had already shouted at the cheetah once that morning.

"Where are they!?" Panthro finally exploded.

The four Thundercats jumped. "Panthro, for whom are we waiting?" Lynx-O asked gently. "Is it possible to start without them?"

"No, it’s not," Panthro growled, starting his pace up again. "We need everyone here because I’m only going to go through this once. But if they don’t show up soon…"

The panther trailed away into a series of angry snarls, leaving Cheetara thankful that she was in attendance and not absent. But he still had to be calmed. He was beginning to make the cheetah dizzy and if he wasn’t careful, he’d work his stitches out. "Panthro? Who is not here yet? Maybe someone can go looking for them."

The panther glared at her but didn’t snap. He stood still for a moment and then sighed. "We’re waiting for Tahee and Snarfer," he said with a low growl. "Snarfer I can understand since he’s looking for Vultureman. Tahee was the reason this meeting was called, though. I can’t imagine where he is."

"Call him on the intercom," Snoedaro suggested. "Perhaps there is a crisis in sickbay. Or maybe he’s lost track of the time."

"A cheetah losing track of the time," Panthro murmured. "What is Thundera coming to?"

A brief flash of relief surged through Cheetara’s body. At least Panthro could still joke. He wasn’t completely lost. But before she could respond, the council room doors slid open. Tensing herself, she waited for Panthro’s verbal assault.

"Sorry I’m late," Snarfer whispered. "I had some trouble outside."

Lynx-O’s ears snapped up at the snarf’s tone. Snarfer’s "trouble outside" was more than just ordinary trouble. Something had gone wrong and it had Snarfer terrified.

"Where’s Vultureman?" Panthro demanded. "You were supposed to bring him with you."

"Well, that’s kind of the problem," Snarfer stammered, frightened by Panthro’s anger but completely incapable of dealing with it. Trying to steady himself, he took a deep breath and went on. "See, I went outside, snarfer, and I found Alphon. And Alphon asked me to give you a message. And then—"

"What’s the message?" Cheetara broke in, hoping to distract Panthro long enough for her to figure out what Snarfer was babbling about.

"Oh yeah, the message," Snarfer murmured. "Um, Alphon says that he and the wolves will leave no later than noon and that you have to see him sometime before then."

"Noted," Panthro growled. "Now continue."

Cheetara cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should wait for everyone else to get here," she suggested. Snarfer was clearly nervous about something, and if his story could be delayed until some of Panthro’s anger was diffused, life would probably be better for everyone.

"If this can be handled now then I will handle it now," Panthro snapped. He turned on Snarfer who was shrinking back against a wall, but before he could speak, Lynx-O interfered.

"Panthro, you know I have rarely questioned your judgement, but I believe Cheetara speaks wisely. Wait a moment. Calm yourself and allow young Snarfer to calm as well." Lynx-O frowned and his ears twitched. "I believe we shall have company soon. It would be in our best interests to present a united front."

"Perhaps," Panthro hissed.

"If my question does not seem impertinent, may I ask what has you so upset?" the lynx pressed.

Panthro glared at the sightless Thundercat but eventually his eyes dropped. "I’m sorry," he whispered, though there was still a lingering snarl in his voice. "Tahee and I had a discussion this morning and ever since then…I haven’t been myself. But I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you." With a sigh, Panthro shook his head and took several deep breaths. "Okay, Snarfer. Now tell me why Vultureman isn’t here."

Snarfer still looked nervous, but Cheetara and Lynx-O motioned him encouragingly. Swallowing his fear, he braced himself for an outraged Panthro. "Alphon let him go. He’s not on Thundera anymore."

At first, nothing happened. The council chambers were deceptively quiet. Like the calm before a storm, Snoedaro thought, keeping an eye on Panthro. The snow leopard was trying to quietly move his chair back so that, if needed, he could restrain the panther. Beside him, Cougrois was doing the same.

"Alphon let him go?" Panthro’s voice was soft but edged with steel.

Snarfer nodded. "Um, yup. He did. He said that Vultureman knew nothing the wolves didn’t already know. He said he interrogated Vultureman himself and that he didn’t know of anything worth keeping him around for."

Cheetara had seen that look before. Long ago during the mutant wars, that look had been given to a reptilian after Panthro had watched his own father vaporized before his eyes. "Panthro…"

"Alphon and I will discuss this later," Panthro growled, turning away from Snarfer. Snarfer gave a relieved sigh, but Cheetara felt her hair rise at the thought of what this "discussion" might entail. She hoped Tahee was ready to handle more casualties.

"I thought you said someone was coming," Cougrois hissed to Lynx-O after a moment’s pause.

"Someone is coming," the lynx replied softly, his ears moving slightly in an effort to pinpoint the sounds in the outer hall. "But that someone moves slowly and stops often. In fact, now there are two. Before there was just one. Together, they are traveling faster. Another minute, perhaps, and they will reach the door."

"Snoedaro?"

The snow leopard looked up at the Panthro questioningly.

"Will you find Tahee? This meeting was his idea. He should have had the courtesy to be here on time, but since he isn’t, we will remind him."

Snoedaro nodded and stood up, but before he could move a step, the doors to the council room parted. Tahee entered with Servalla braced on his shoulder. "My apologies," the leader of the cheetah clans stated. "We had…a crisis in sickbay."

"Servalla?" Cheetara gasped, staring at the healer in astonishment. "Servalla, should you be up?"

"I’m fine," the stubborn serval growled, practically falling into a seat. "I’m a Thundercat. I will not abandon that position."

"Tahee, when did she regain consciousness?" Panthro demanded. "Why wasn’t anyone notified?"

"And just whom was I supposed to notify?" Tahee asked simply, fixing the panther with his steely gaze. Panthro glared back but said nothing. "That, then, is your answer," the cheetah said quietly. "There was no one to tell. No one to contact. And this, then, is your problem."

"I just woke up," Servalla told Panthro, annoyed with Tahee’s illusive answer. "And almost as soon as I woke up, there were complications with one of the patients." She looked around the council room and shuddered. "So where’s everyone else?"

"You’re looking at everyone else," Cougrois replied. "Everyone’s here who can be here. And even some who shouldn’t be," he added with a glance at Cheetara.

"But…Mantyro, Bengali, and Wiley Kat were the Thundercats I saw in sickbay," the serval protested. "Tygra and Pumyra are dead, Wiley Kit and Lepora are on a mission, but those seven are the only Thundercats who have an excuse to be absent."

"Tygra and Pumyra are not the only dead Thundercats," Panthro whispered. "Snarf was killed by the red tigers. Leonari was killed by the Kentroans."

Servalla’s mouth dropped. "You mean…no. No, you don’t mean that!" She looked around frantically for hope, but the faces of the other gathered Thundercats held only sympathy and pain. "No," she whispered, hiding her face in her hands.

Behind her, Tahee roughly cleared his throat. "We have a rather sobering announcement of our own. The patient with complications…didn’t make it. The death count is now five. I’m afraid Wiley Kat is gone."

Silence so profound it seemed tangible swept the council chambers. "Five," Panthro murmured finally, his whisper breaking the stillness like a brigade of horns in the early morning. "Five Thundercats dead in a single month."

"Poor Wiley Kit," Snoedaro muttered. "If she learns of this…" The snow leopard stopped, realizing what he’d just said. "When she learns of this…" he corrected, but it was already too late to avoid the implication.

Cheetara brushed away quiet tears, her mind filled with memories of the awkward Thunderkitten and the intelligent Thundercat he’d become. "If only there were something we could have done," she murmured.

"There was nothing," Panthro told her, trying to recover from the shock. "Just as there was nothing we could do for Tygra, Pumyra, Snarf, and Leonari. Now we must move on and—"

"Wait!" Servalla interrupted. "What about Lion-O? Where is he?"

"Lion-O is a prisoner of his own mind," Lynx-O explained after a lengthy pause. "He is trapped in a world of his own making. The deaths of Leonari and Snarf have had a rather profound effect on him, and over the past month, I believe Sybar has been draining strength from him. He needs time to recover. A lot of time."

"But we don’t have time," Tahee interjected, looking pointedly at Panthro. "This is why Panthro has summoned you here today. He has something of vital import to discuss."

The cheetah stepped away and nodded toward the panther. For his part, Panthro looked amazingly uncomfortable. Cheetara could not remember a time when he looked so ill at ease. She longed to say something, but what comfort could she offer him? Almost as if sensing her thoughts, the panther turned and looked straight at her. Their eyes locked and then Panthro shook himself. Clearing his throat, he began to speak.

"Tahee has brought to my attention the need for…the need for leadership. He tells me he has already broached the subject with Cougrois and Lynx-O, but they have failed to mention it to the rest of us."

Cougrois blinked. "What do you mean by—"

"Our conversation yesterday," Lynx-O hissed at the cougar, silencing the young Thundercat. The lynx motioned for Panthro to continue.

"Uh, as I was saying…well, let’s face it. Lion-O isn’t well. I don’t know what’s wrong with him and I’m not going to pretend to know. Lynx-O says he needs time to heal, but Tahee is right. We don’t have time."

Panthro started pacing again, something Cheetara found disturbing primarily because she couldn’t pace. Just watching him was causing her wounded leg to throb.

"We’ve never had time," Snarfer whispered. "Uncle Snarf didn’t have time. Kat didn’t have time. Leonari didn’t have time. Tygra didn’t have time. Pumyra didn’t have time. Why should we be any different?"

The other Thundercats exchanged glances. Panthro shook his head. "Anyway, under normal circumstances, we’d all expect Tygra to step up and take charge. But Tygra’s dead. And that subject is not open to debate!" the panther added forcefully as Cheetara cleared her throat to say something. He glared at the cheetah, daring her to speak up. She matched his glare with one of her own but said nothing. She could wait a little longer. With a sigh, Panthro continued. "This leaves us basically leaderless. We all more or less know what’s going on and there is something resembling a chain of command, but the people need more than that. They need to know that the Sword of Omens has an owner. They need to know who to blame their problems on and who to cheer when news of the war is good." The panther broke off and slammed his fist against the large table, startling them all into jumping. "Blast it all, they need Lion-O! We all do!"

"We don’t have Lion-O. At least not right now," Snoedaro said quietly, rubbing his forehead and developing a fairly good idea of where this was headed. "But can’t we just lie and tell the people that Lion-O is still in charge? Why do we have to change anything?"

"Because most of the people in New Thundera City know what has happened to Lion-O," Lynx-O answered. "By granting them access to the Lair, we granted them access to the Thundercats. They are privy to things they would not otherwise know. The situation could not be helped, but it has left us with a problem."

"There are the allies, too," Cheetara added. "The allies are going to want to know who gives the final word."

"And that’s what we need to decide," Panthro concluded, falling heavily into a council chair. "After Lion-O and Tygra, who is in command?"

"Is there any precedent for deciding this?" Cougrois asked. "Has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Yes, it has," Lynx-O answered. "Several times. But in those instances, there was always a survivor from the noble lion clans with a legal right to the throne. Lion-O is the last of his family. He has no living relatives and he has no heir. And if another noble lion from a rival clan came forward asking for the throne, Thundera would be further fractured in civil war."

"What about Mantyro?" Servalla wondered, massaging her temples against a large headache. "Could we hand over control to a tiger and try to alleviate some of the conflict there?"

"We could, except that Mantyro hasn’t been himself lately," Panthro responded wearily. "And giving control to a tiger will unite the lions against us. Besides that, Mantyro is no longer a noble as far as the red tiger clans are concerned. They would reject him and demand that Sybar be given the throne."

"May I pose a question?" Tahee asked. When no one objected, he continued. "Do any of you actually want to lead the Thundercats? Because if you do, I believe that is where we should start."

No one said anything. The room was once again silent until Cheetara finally spoke up. "I’m sorry, Tahee, but we’ve all been trained to follow and support the Lord of the Thundercats. I think Tygra was the only one who had to cope with the possibility of actually becoming the leader. The rest of us…it’s a responsibility we’d rather live without."

"But it must be one of you," Tahee protested. "It has to be a Thundercat. The people believe in you. They trust you to do what is right. If it’s not a Thundercat, there is a good chance that the puma and cougar clans could move to Sybar’s side."

"I would lead," Panthro said hesitantly after another awkward pause, "but I know less than Lion-O about politics. I think I would be worse than the current situation. I can handle the war but not the diplomacy."

Lynx-O’s brow furrowed and his ears twitched. "What if…what if we were to have another joint leadership? Claudus and Jaga worked well as a team with Claudus handling domestic affairs and Jaga handling the armed conflicts. I know you wish for a clear-cut leader, Tahee, but none of us have the capabilities to handle both external and internal affairs as they currently stand. However, I believe that working as a team, Panthro and Cheetara could manage the job."

Brushing aside protests from both panther and cheetah, Tahee considered the idea. "My main concern is the Sword of Omens," he finally said. "It must be passed on. It is the symbol of leadership and the people will look to the Thunderian who carries it."

"It should go with Panthro, then," Lynx-O said. "The Sword is not a tool of peace; it is a weapon of war. It is a symbol of the warrior spirit found in the Thundercats, and whoever handles the conflict should carry the Sword."

"Do you even care what our thoughts are on the subject?!" Cheetara demanded.

"I can tell you right now that I will not take responsibility for the Sword," Panthro said fiercely. "The Sword is not just some ornamental decoration but the protector of the Eye of Thundera. It chooses its own master, and so far that master is still Lion-O."

"Calm down," Snoedaro broke in. "What if we compromised? To the people, we can say that Cheetara and Panthro will be taking joint leadership of the Thundercats. At the proclamation, Panthro can carry the Sword. After that, though, the Sword can go back to the Sword Chamber. After all, Lion-O didn’t carry the Sword everywhere he went."

"And if Panthro holds the Sword, the panther clans might leave the tigers and come back to our side," Cougrois added.

"Unlikely," Panthro growled. "My clans are so contaminated by the lies of those stupid tigers that—"

"Enough," Tahee interrupted. "I need to know if you’ve reached a decision so that I might begin spreading rumors of hope among the commoners. Panthro, Cheetara, will you lead Thundera?"

The panther and cheetah exchanged glances. "I’m still injured," Cheetara murmured. "I don’t know that the people will accept me. And cheetahs have almost never been in positions of power. I might add to the clan rivalries."

"Claudus was blind," Snarfer pointed out. "The people followed him. Yes sir, they did whatever he told them to do."

"We could hint that you’re really Panthro’s spokesman," Servalla suggested. "You could handle the domestic affairs, but we could say that instructions came from Panthro. That way, the clans would believe a panther was in charge of Thundera. And a panther leading isn’t so unheard of."

"What do you have to say about all this, Panthro?" Cougrois wondered.

"It’s up to Cheetara," Panthro sighed wearily. "If she consents, I guess I’ll go along with it, too. But don’t expect me to do anything about the civil war, and don’t expect me to use the Sword of Omens for anything. And it has to be clear that as soon as Lion-O heals, he will be Lord of the Thundercats again."

"Of course," Tahee consented. "But we need not explain that to the public unless Lion-O does heal."

"He will," Panthro growled. Tahee chose not to respond.

"So how about it, Cheetara?" Servalla asked. "Will you and Panthro lead the Thundercats?"

"It appears we have no choice," the cheetah answered softly. "If Panthro also agrees, then yes. I will lead the Thundercats with him." Her amber eyes sought out Panthro’s brown ones, but if he had any more thoughts on the matter, he hid them well. Cheetara could discern nothing.

"So be it," Panthro said heavily. "Cheetara and I will lead the Thundercats and subsequently Thundera."

"Good." Tahee stood up, his loose noble robes swirling slightly as he did so. "I will start the rumors and you may announce this decision by afternoon if you so wish." He gave the Thundercats a formal bow and left the council room.

"I don’t trust him," Cougrois said abruptly.

"Be grateful he’s on our side," Cheetara whispered, already feeling the weight of responsibility upon her shoulders. "Just think of all the trouble he could make for us if he’d joined forces with the tigers and panthers. Did you know he convinced the cougars and pumas to side with the Thundercats when Panya was begging them to join the rebels?"

Panthro sighed and stood. "The rest of you can sit and discuss this if you want. I have to find Alphon and say a few choice words to that wolf."

"Panthro, wait!" Snoedaro called as the panther headed for the door. "Cheetara, Snarfer, and I have something we need to show you."

Pausing, the panther glanced at the snow leopard, hesitated, and then nodded. "Make it fast," he instructed. "If Alphon is leaving at noon, I want to have plenty of time to…talk to that dog."

They’ve betrayed you. They’ve betrayed us all!

The Thundercat tossed in a fitful sleep, his sedatives wearing thin and his powers of resistance diminishing. No. No, that’s not true. Stop saying that. No one’s betraying anybody! Jaga take you, STOP SAYING THAT!!!

But the voice was relentless. It kept hammering into his mind, whispering lies cloaked with shades of truth. Think of who they’ve let in, the voice hissed. Think of what they represent. Think of all the pain they’ve caused us, and then tell me you haven’t been betrayed. They were never your friends. They think only of themselves. They think only of keeping us locked away in darkness! They’ve betrayed you!

Emotionally, mentally, and physically drained, Mantyro was in no condition to resist. He did try. To his credit, he fought until the last strand of defiance was brutally crushed beneath the insistent voice, yet he was no match for the power and energy he faced. With stolen strength, the voice slammed through his mind, tore down his mental barriers, and assaulted every value and every belief he’d ever possessed. And in the end, the voice won.

He stood alone. Behind him, wind swept through ruins on the outskirts of New Thundera City. Wooden boards creaked in the gale and there was a sigh of rusty metal. The northern desert beyond the city called to him, begging him to embrace its emptiness and end his weary existence. He took one step toward the lifeless plains and felt some of his past life fade into distant memories. He took another step and sighed with relief as civilization became an abstract concept behind him. Another step and he was ready to absorb the essence of the desert and all its implications. With each step, it became easier to leave. With each step, it became more desirable to leave.

"Lion-O."

A convulsive shudder raced through his frame. With a soft growl and a flash of anger in his eyes, he turned toward the source of the voice. "Jaga."

For a long time, there was silence. The former Lord of the Thundercats studied the current Lord of the Thundercats. The lion was haggard and care-worn, lines of sleeplessness and despair telling on his face. His right arm was splinted and firmly secured to his side, but it was the only firm thing about Lion-O. His muscles had begun to waste away and the slouch of his shoulders spoke of aching weariness. Jaga was slightly amazed that the lion was even on his feet. He was an empty shell grasping helplessly at reality. The only life left in the Lord of the Thundercats could be found in his eyes, which now glittered in fiery rage as he studied his old mentor. A gust of wind blew by, teasing Lion-O’s hair while having no affect on Jaga’s swirling cape.

"They need you," the specter finally said.

"And where were you when I needed you?" Lion-O returned coldly. "Don’t tell me you were blind to what was happening. Four Thundercats are dead. I’ve lost my healer, my second-in-command, my fiancée, and my life-long friend. Where were you then?!"

"I was powerless to help you," Jaga said gently. "This world is no longer mine. I can only advise; I cannot interfere."

"You interfered on Third Earth when all the Thundercats were sent into limbo and Mumm-Ra had supreme power until the end of one day," Lion-O pointed out with a snarl. "You interfered when Bengali, Pumyra, and Lynx-O were trapped on the other side of Thundranium and we had no way to get to them. You interfered when Grune attacked Cat’s Lair and demanded a rematch. You interfered when we first found the Thunderscope and Mumm-Ra—"

"Lion-O!" Jaga interrupted forcefully. "In those times, you were still young. Some of those events happened nearly ten years ago. You have grown into a fine leader, and I am no longer allowed to interfere directly. There are rules in my plane of existence. I cannot break them. I cannot interfere."

"Good," the lion growled, looking back at the desert. "Then don’t interfere with my decision."

Jaga stared at the lion, searching frantically for a way to break through his melancholy. "You don’t want to do this," he said at length, hoping to stall for time.

"How would you know what I want?!" Lion-O roared, turning to the ghost again. "I want this war to end. I want Leonari back. I want Snarf back. I want Tygra back. I want Pumyra back. Can any of that happen? Can the past be changed? NO!" His hands tore through his mane in frustration and a suspicious moisture was building in his eyes. "No," he hissed, sinking to the ground in despair. "No, the past can’t be changed."

"Then you would throw your life away?" Jaga queried. "You would abandon those who still survive? They fight on. They fight with very little hope, but they still fight on. Would you leave them?"

"I don’t know," Lion-O whispered. He clutched his face in his hands and started to shake. "I don’t know anything anymore."

Jaga longed to give the lion comfort. He understood the feelings of hurt and betrayal all too well. It was one of the main reasons that Jaga had chosen to pilot the flagship rather than enter a suspension capsule. He hadn’t been able to bear the thought of continuing when all his friends had already passed on. His decision had been rationalized by the fact that he was leaving the Thundercats in capable hands. But Lion-O didn’t have the luxury that he’d had. There was still a war to fight, and there was no one else to lead Thundera. "Lion-O…"

"Leave me, Jaga," the lion hissed softly, not even turning to look at his former mentor. "Just leave me."

The specter hesitated, lifted his arm as though to say something, and then turned away. With a shake of his head, he wrapped his robe around himself and vanished from the mortal plane. Lion-O was on his own.

Panthro crossed his arms and gazed critically at the main screen. "A Katak game?"

"Right," Cheetara said emphatically. She tried to shift in her chair, but her injured leg cried out in protest. Settling for a rather uncomfortable position, she turned her attention back to Panthro. "Those codes on the Kentro static buoys correspond exactly to positions in a Katak game. Even Snarfer recognized them!"

"And not only are they positions for a Katak game, but they’re an exact copy of the game Cheetara was playing with Tygra before he disappeared," Snoedaro added, watching Panthro’s face for his reaction.

The reaction was long in coming. Panthro stared at the monitor for several minutes before turning to the cheetah and snow leopard. "You’re certain of this?"

"Positive," Cheetara told him.

Panthro studied the screen a few more minutes and then sighed. "I don’t know. Perhaps you two are right. Maybe this is a Katak game. But who’s to say this isn’t a Kentro ploy?"

"Does Kentro know our culture that well? Very few know how to play Katak, and even fewer know the piece positions required for advanced play," Snoedaro argued. "It has to be Tygra."

"Did Tygra have the Katak game on record at Cat’s Lair?"

"I know what you’re thinking, Panthro, and you’re wrong," Cheetara growled. "Yes, Tygra had the game on record. He couldn’t play otherwise. But Snoedaro wasn’t entirely right when he said this code is an exact duplicate. It’s an exact duplicate with two exceptions. Two of my pieces that were previously in a protected area are now behind enemy lines. One piece, the restorer, is what you could refer to as a healer. The other piece, the wind scout, has the ability to move great distances without being stopped. Almost as if it were invisible."

"Which means Kentro can’t have just stuck this code on their static buoys in an effort to fool us," Snoedaro concluded. "They wouldn’t know enough to do that."

Panthro frowned. "But if Tygra and Pumyra are alive, then that means…" He trailed off and looked at Cheetara and Snoedaro.

"They’re prisoners of Kentro," Cheetara finished softly. "And they are in pain. Twice now, Tygra has reached out to me. Both times, the most I received from him was pain. We must do something to help them."

"What?!" Panthro demanded. "What can we do to help them? We don’t even know where Kentro is!"

"Then we must turn our war efforts to discovering that information," Snoedaro answered. "We can not abandon them."

Panthro swore softly. "Listen, I want to believe they’re alive. I really do. But…over a month. Think of it. More than a month has passed, and not a sign of them."

"But there have been signs!" Cheetara insisted.

"For you!" Panthro exploded. "You’ve had signs, but the rest of us haven’t. We don’t have the reassurance that you do. We don’t have that sixth sense of yours that enables you to touch Tygra’s mind. We have to go on your word alone, and based on recent events, words are cheap."

The cheetah’s eyes narrowed to slits. "You would compare my word with the word of a mutant?" she growled, the muscles in her arms tensing in growing fury.

Panthro stared at her in shock and then looked away. "My apologies, Cheetara. I spoke in anger."

Snoedaro looked from the panther to the cheetah and then cleared his throat. "Panthro, regardless of what you believe, there is hope out there. This proves it. And if we don’t do something about it—"

"I can’t risk the lives of pilots on a hope," Panthro whispered. "Even if they are alive, they are only two Thundercats. Would you sacrifice all of Thundera for them?"

"I don’t believe what I’m hearing!" Cheetara snapped. "You’re talking about our friends. Our companions. Two of the original Thundercats from before the destruction. All of Thundera looks up to them. They’re out there, they’re alive, and we can help them!"

"Can we?"

Panthro’s quiet question froze the cheetah. She stammered for a minute and then fixed him with a dangerous glare. "Of course we can help them. We just need to discover where Kentro is, send out a group of pilots, and rescue them."

"You make it sound so simple," Panthro growled, turning away from the cheetah. "So very simple. Listen, Cheetara. Listen to what I already see as possible problems to this simple solution, and I haven’t even given this any serious thought yet. First of all, we don’t know where Kentro is. Second, we don’t know how to find out. Third, if we do find out, how will we get there? The empire is huge and it’s a good bet that Kentro would be toward the center. How long will it take us to travel there? How heavily guarded will it be? We just tried to break through the Fire Zone. What will it be like landing on Kentro? Where on Kentro are they? How much guard are they under? What is Kentro doing to them? Why are they still prisoners? Why haven’t we heard any ransom demands or ultimatums? Even if we can rescue them, how will we get back? Who do we send on this suicide mission? If there are other prisoners, do we rescue them all?" The panther turned back toward Cheetara and shook his head. "You see? You see how hard this is, Cheetara? Put aside your feelings for Tygra and look at the situation like the logical cheetah I know you to be. We can’t do it. In fact, that’s the only thing that’s simple about any of this. We just can’t help them. We don’t have the resources, the energy, the information, or the strength."

Cheetara felt moisture building her eyes, and she knew she would not be able to hold back tears much longer. "I know Panthro," she murmured, looking down so that she would not have to face him. "I know all that. But…they need us. If you could feel what I have felt from Tygra…Panthro, he’s dying. Slowly. His soul is dying. In our last contact, I didn’t even recognize his mind until he said his name."

Panthro’s hand came to rest on the cheetah’s uninjured leg, and with his other hand, he turned her face up to his. His eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own, and Cheetara felt guilt stab through her heart. Panthro was not blind to the facts. He had a fairly good idea of what Tygra and Pumyra might be going through. "Listen," he whispered. "If there is anything I can do, any possible opening I can find, I will take it. I want them back as much as you do, but we can’t spend the bulk of the war effort looking for them," he finished, drawing the cheetah into a comforting hug.

"I’m sorry, Panthro," Cheetara said softly. "Forgive me. I should not have spoken to you in such a manner."

"It is already forgotten," the panther told her, drawing away. "Forgive me for ever doubting you."

Cheetara nodded, flashing him a weary smile. "Well, I suppose we should start running Thundera," she announced, trying to add some brevity to the atmosphere. "If you want, I’ll speak to the…" The cheetah trailed off and froze, her eyes opening wide and her face turning white.

"Cheetara?" Snoedaro was instantly at her side. "Cheetara?!"

"Cheetara!" Panthro shouted, shaking her by the shoulders.

"It’s Tygra," she whispered. "I can barely sense him. He’s calling beyond a barrier. He’s…he’s…BY ALL THE ANCIENTS OF THUNDERA!!!" she screamed, bowling up into a fetal position and crashing to the floor. "NO!!! NO, NOT THAT! TYGRA!!!"