Cool. Wet. Gentle. Soothing. A soft touch probing through her spotted blonde mane. It came to rest near the back of her head and…there was pain. Lots of pain. Growing amounts of pain. Dizzying pain. Shooting pain springing from the back of her head and encompassing her compact body. Darkness. Extreme darkness. Where was everyone? What had happened?

Gradually, memories began to come back to her. There had been a battle. Something had happened to her head. Something had…had something hit it? By Jaga, it was so difficult to remember! Her mind was a hazy blur that clouded every time she tried to focus.

There was that touch again. And now she could hear something. What was that noise? Groaning? Yes, it was groaning. Someone was in pain. Pain…who could be in pain? There had been a battle…KIT! She’d seen Kit’s ship drifting after that shot to the engines. Kit hadn’t answered her hails. And then something had happened to her own Dagger, but for the life of her, Lepora couldn’t remember what.

Where was she? Straining her ears, she listened for sounds that would indicate a location. Voices? Yes, voices. There was that moaning sound. And in the background, was there a hum of generators? She wasn’t certain about that. Why couldn’t she see? Oh, her eyes weren’t open. Strange that it had taken her this long to realize that. Had she been sleeping? Was she still sleeping?

She didn’t seem to have any muscular control. Her body felt very relaxed as though she was under some type of sedation. Lepora tried to push past the effects and focus her mind on the pain that continued to rocket out from the back of her head. Yes, that was working. Agony was gradually bringing her around, forcing herself further awake. She could feel she was lying on something, now. Something soft. Something that felt like a warm blanket. Beneath that was something hard, but she couldn’t tell what.

"Lepora?"

Now the voices were clearer and she heard her name. The moaning had intensified and she knew that whoever was injured lay very close to her. And then with a start, she realized that she was the one moaning. Confused and alarmed, Lepora found herself very close to full consciousness.

"Lepora? Come on, it’s time to wake up."

Someone was shaking her shoulder gently. They shook it very gently as though they feared to move her. With a final valiant effort, Lepora managed to gain control of her eyelids. Almost afraid to go through with the final stages of waking, she braced herself and then opened her eyes.

Servalla’s gold-rimmed eyes stared back at her. There was an element of concern in the healer’s eyes that immediately put Lepora on her guard. "Lepora? How do you feel?"

She opened her mouth to speak and discovered it was drier than a Thunderian desert. "Water," she managed to croak out.

Servalla immediately nodded and turned to someone behind her. Lepora looked but she couldn’t see anyone. She was having problems focusing her eyes on objects far away. The serval turned back to her with a canteen filled with water. "Slowly," Servalla warned as she held the water bottle to Lepora’s lips.

The cool liquid trickled down the leopard’s parched throat, soothing and calming as it went. Servalla withdrew the bottle and watched Lepora expectantly. Lepora closed her eyes and sighed. "Thank you."

"How do you feel Lepora?"

Lepora opened her eyes and looked at the serval, trying to read the healer’s thoughts. "My head hurts," she finally said. "A lot."

Servalla smiled. "After what you’ve been through, I’m not surprised. Anything else? Can you hear me clearly? What’s the last thing you remember?"

The leopard concentrated, trying to find answers to the serval’s questions. "I can hear you just fine. The last thing I remember…" Lepora had to think about that one. "I was in a Thundera Dagger," she finally said. "Kit’s Dagger had been damaged and I couldn’t reach her. I was…I was trying to get my communication channel to work and…" She gritted her teeth and tried vainly to remember what happened. "I don’t know," Lepora finally confessed. "I can’t remember anything after that."

"Well, a little short-term memory loss is normal for a head injury like yours. There doesn’t seem to be any permanent damage, thank the Ancients for that." Servalla placed a skilled hand on the leopard’s forehead and readjusted the damp rag. "Lie still, now. You’re probably wondering what’s going on. I’ll get the others over here and we can talk about it."

By this time, Lepora’s eyes seemed to be cooperating and she could tell that she was in the corner of a large room and resting on an old, tattered blanket. The ceiling arched high above her and was dome-shaped. But she couldn’t tell much more than this, because it hurt to turn her head. So she patiently waited for Servalla’s return, wondering where in the universe she was and how Servalla was still alive and who the "others" were.

"Lepora!" Lepora’s eyes darted to the familiar voice and she saw Wiley Kit approaching her.

"Kit? You’re alright?"

"I was after a while, thanks to Servalla and her make-shift medical team," Kit laughed. She sobered and looked Lepora over. "How are you doing? When they brought you in, we didn’t know what to think."

"Well, look who decided to join us." Leonari took a seat next to the leopard and gave her a warm smile. "We weren’t sure you were going to make it, kid. You gave us quite a scare when they threw you in."

"What happened?" Lepora asked.

"You only had a river of blood gushing from the back of your head," a gruff baritone answered her. Bengali looked at her critically and eventually grinned. "I guess leopards are as hard-headed as tradition says they are."

"Leave her alone," Servalla scolded as she appeared behind the white tiger. At this point, Lepora noticed that Servalla wore her left arm in a sling.

"Servalla? What happened to your arm? How long have I been unconscious? Where are we? What’s going on?"

"Funny. That’s almost exactly what Kit asked," Leonari chuckled. "Is she up to the answers, healer?"

Servalla shrugged. "She’ll probably harm herself more by wondering about the answers than she will in trying to solve our current problems. Go ahead and fill her in."

"Well, you’ve been unconscious for almost two days now," Leonari started out.

"TWO DAYS!?"

"Shhh," Bengali warned with a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. "Not so loud. We’re all carefully watched here, and they know we’re Thundercats so they keep a closer eye on us than the other Thunderians."

"Other Thunderians?" Lepora’s pounding head was not helping her concentration and she was thoroughly confused. "Why are you all still alive? We saw the Scabbard and it was a wreck. And Kit, I saw your Dagger powerless. What happened?"

"We’re getting there," Servalla soothed. "Patience. Kit? Why don’t you take over."

"Right," Kit agreed. She moved to her friend’s side, taking Lepora’s hand in hers to calm the leopard down. "You remember that big transport ship we saw? The one with engine problems?"

Lepora started to nod but stopped immediately as a wave of dizziness and new pain exploded in her head. "Yes, I do," she finally answered.

"That’s where we are now," Kit told her. "They put a tractor beam on our two ships and dragged us into a hanger of some kind. Then they dragged me down here to this big cargo room and after that, they threw you in."

"The three of us got here in much the same way," Bengali filled in. "And in varying degrees of consciousness, but we were okay for the most part."

"And as for other Thunderians, all the survivors from Pride are also here," Leonari finished. "That’s where we got the water, the blanket, and the rag you’re using. Some of the colonists were allowed to gather supplies before they were loaded onto the transport."

"So Pride wasn’t destroyed?" Lepora breathed.

"Depends on your definition of ‘destroyed’," Servalla answered grimly. "There were close to 300 colonists on Pride about five days ago. There are 47 on this ship."

Lepora had no response to that and stared at the healer in astonishment. "47?" The other Thundercats nodded soberly.

"They’ve also separated all the children under the age of eight," Servalla continued. "They’re being held in a compartment not far from here. Because I am a healer, they let me in to see them. They’re frightened and in a state of shock, but other than that, they’re okay."

"What about Thundera? Hasn’t anyone been sent to rescue us?"

"Our damage to the engines wasn’t good enough," Kit murmured. "The humans repaired the engines within two hours. If any other Thundercats left Thundera right away, at top speed in a Feliner it would have taken them six hours to reach us."

"They don’t know where we are," Leonari finished. "Before you two came along, Servalla had managed to sneak out on an excuse to visit the children and sabotage the engines. That’s why you found us only a few light years out from Pride."

"That’s also how I sprained my arm," Servalla added. "The guards here play rough."

"I see." Lepora thought all this over. "So what happens now?"

"Now, you rest," Servalla told her firmly. "You have a rather large concussion and I want you off your feet. As for the rest of us…" She trailed off and looked at the other Thundercats.

"We have a plan in the works," Bengali finally said. "We’re still working out the details. I’m worried about the margin of error. Basically, there is none. But we haven’t been able to come up with anything else."

"Tell me," Lepora urged. "Maybe I can help."

"I just took you off some strong sedatives," Servalla warned. "Don’t make me put you back on. I want you to get some natural rest for a while."

"How much rest can I get when I’m a prisoner?" Lepora shot back. She turned her pleading eyes to Leonari, Kit, and Bengali. "Please tell me."

The three exchanged glances and then looked at Servalla. The healer threw up her good arm in disgust. "Go ahead. In a way, she’s right. The sooner we can get ourselves out of here, the better for all of us."

Leonari smiled at her friend. "Thanks healer." She turned her bright eyes on the leopard. "Okay, here’s the plan so far…"

Tygra awoke to complete darkness. Nothing unusual there. After he’d lost consciousness in the hallway, he’d awakened to find himself back in the small room. At least, that’s where he assumed he was. He couldn’t see anything, so for all he knew, he could be someplace entirely different. But it made sense that the guards would return him to this room. It seemed to be a convenient place to store prisoners.

Tygra listened to see if Pumyra was awake this time. He’d been sleeping on and off during the past…the tiger stopped and realized that he had no idea how much time had passed since their failed escape attempt. Probably a day or two. This was the third time he’d awakened from a long nap. And every time he’d awakened, Pumyra had been asleep, judging from her breathing. And something was wrong with her throat. Her breath had been raspy and labored. As Tygra listened now, he noted this had not changed significantly. But the rhythm had changed. Maybe this time… "Pumyra?"

His sharp ears caught the sound of rustling and then he felt a gentle hand caress his forehead. "Tygra?"

Tygra’s eyes widened in surprise. His name had been croaked out by what sounded like a sore-throated Berbil with a bad case of laryngitis. "Pumyra? What happened?"

"You passed out."

Tygra rolled his eyes. Pumyra could be quite evasive when she didn’t feel like answering a question. "No, I mean, what happened to you?"

"I was thrown in on top of you and I think I might have jammed a wrist trying to catch myself," the scratchy voice said. "How are you feeling?"

The tiger decided to give up for now. When Pumyra wanted to talk about what had happened, she would. Until then, nothing would pry it out of her. "I think I’m okay, but it’s hard to tell," Tygra answered her. "I’m chained down too tightly to move, so I don’t know if there’s any damage. I take it you’re unchained?"

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence on the part of the puma before she answered. "Yes, I am."

"Do you know how I’m chained down? They’ve got me locked up tight, and I can’t seem to move anything. Any chance you can get me loose?" More silence. "Pumyra?"

"I’m sorry, Tygra. I can’t."

"Oh." Tygra wasn’t quite sure what to say next. Something was really bothering the puma, but she still didn’t seem ready to talk. He cast about for a conversation starter. There was far too much tension in the room.

Pumyra’s hand once again slid across his forehead and down one side of his face. "Fever’s down," she murmured. "That’s good." She paused and then blurted out, "Tygra? You’re something of a chemist, aren’t you?"

Tygra blinked in the total darkness. "I suppose so," he answered slowly, trying to decipher the reasoning behind Pumyra’s question. "I know something of chemicals, though that’s not my area of expertise. Why do you ask?"

"What can you tell me about the chemical pentachlorophenol?"

"Pentachlorophenol?" It took Tygra a minute to answer that one, but his memory was good. "Strangely enough, I am familiar with that chemical. Traditionally, it was used as a wood preservative until it was discovered to be potentially lethal in relatively small doses. It makes a very effective biocide, too. When we first got to Third Earth, I had to use it in the wood for the new Lair because it was easy to synthesize from surrounding materials and I could make it fairly quickly. As soon as I could, I stopped using it."

"What kind of side effects does it have in really small doses?"

Tygra’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember back to Thundera’s pre-destruction days. "Circulatory failure was how you died from it," he finally said. "Lesser exposure led to inflammation of the upper respiratory system, low red blood cell count, various effects on the kidney and liver, and I think it irritates mucous membranes, too. I caught the Thundertwins trying to store it in their capsules, once, but I put a stop to that immediately. They had no idea how dangerous the stuff was."

The tiger could almost see Pumyra thinking this over. "I see," she finally croaked out.

Tygra suddenly felt amazingly stupid. "They made you inhale pentachlorophenol?!"

"I didn’t inhale much," she whispered. "I guess just enough to inflame my upper respiratory system. They said it was to punish me for speaking out against them."

"They’re nothing but savages," the tiger growled. "And I guess being chained here is my punishment for acting against them."

Once again, the room was filled with an uneasy silence. Finally, Pumyra responded and placed her hand on the side of the tiger’s face. "Tygra? Can you feel my hand?"

Tygra frowned. "Yes. Why?"

"I want you to try and sit up. Can you do that?"

Tygra was becoming disturbed, but he obediently tried to follow her instructions. After a few minutes of intense straining, he finally gave up. "Nope, I can’t. Chains are too tight."

"By Jaga, I had hoped they were lying," Pumyra murmured. Tygra felt her hand on his forehead again. "You can feel this, right?"

"Of course I can feel that." Tygra was very disturbed by now. What was going on?

Pumyra removed her hand and then posed the same question. "Can you feel this?"

"Feel what?"

There was a moment of hesitation and then Pumyra began to speak again. "Tygra, I’m not sure how to tell you this. I guess you could say they don’t fear us much anymore. We’re not chained down. I’m not chained. You’re not chained."

A dangerous thought was tickling the back of Tygra’s mind, but he refused to acknowledge it. "What do you mean I’m not chained down? I can’t get up and I—"

"You’re not chained down," Pumyra repeated firmly. "Your limbs are as free from physical restraints as mine are. But you can’t move them." In the darkness, the puma shifted softly and then spoke again. "I’m holding your hand Tygra. Can you feel it?"

Tygra was stunned. He’d been certain he was chained down. He’d tried to move around when he first woke up only to find that he couldn’t. Conclusion: he was securely chained. But now… "Are you sure you’re holding my hand."

"I’m sorry, Tygra." Pumyra’s raspy whisper was heavy with sympathy and compassion. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to believe them. They did something in your neck. Your spinal chord has been—severed."

The tiger stared into the darkness in disbelief. The ramifications of what Pumyra had said began to shower down on him, but Tygra couldn’t comprehend them all. He couldn’t comprehend any of them. It wasn’t true. It just wasn’t true. He could move if he wanted to. He just had to…

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of their cell door opening. The floor suddenly slid beneath his head and enough light entered the room for him to see Pumyra dragging him away from the entrance. And as he looked down at his body—his useless, motionless body—a wave of revulsion crept over him.

"Get out of here, Pumyra," he hissed. The puma looked at him in surprise. "Don’t wait for me and don’t protect me. I’m no use to the Thundercats in this condition."

"Are you crazy, you stupid tiger?!" Pumyra hissed back. "I’m not going to leave you, just like you wouldn’t leave me. And how dare you say you’re worthless as a quadriplegic. My mother was a paraplegic and let me tell you that—"

"No talking, you freak of nature!" a guard commanded as his laser rifle swept out and caught Pumyra in the back of the head. Five guards were now in the room while other guards waited outside. Tygra couldn’t count them because he couldn’t move his head to get a better view of the doorway. Already he was feeling the severe limitations of his imposed physical condition. Helpless, he watched as Pumyra clutched her head and rolled to a stop on the far side of the cell.

"Hold her down," someone commanded from outside the room. As much as he could, Tygra tried to adjust to see who was speaking. That voice sounded dangerously familiar and if his suspicions were correct…

The man with the white lab coat walked in. Tygra couldn’t hold back a hate-filled growl, but fortunately the guards only gave him warning glances and took no actions. And so he continued to growl as he watched more guards surround his fellow Thundercat and hold her firmly on the ground. The man took out a familiar metal clamp and started to adjust it on Pumyra’s neck. Pumyra began to struggle harder but the guards only tightened their strangle holds and the puma’s upper body was kept motionless.

Two more guards moved to help in case it was needed and effectively blocked Tygra’s view of the proceedings. But Tygra could still hear what was going on. He heard muffled groans and hisses from a raspy throat. He heard the clink of metal and the scuff of soldier boots across the metal floor.

After what seemed like hours but was really only fifteen minutes or so, the guards stepped back from the puma and started to surround Tygra. Straining to see past their circle, the tiger looked for Pumyra. What condition had they left her in? What was going on now?

"Roll him onto his stomach," the man in the lab coat ordered.

Tygra soon found his face pushed into the metal floor and heard guards surround him. Why would they want to do that? He was no longer a threat to them. Tygra sensed the approach of that man and out of the corner of his eye, the tiger caught the gleam of yet another metal clamp. Weren’t they done with that contraption yet?

Apparently not, because Tygra felt the needle positioned on his neck again. He still had some feeling there. And he felt the needle slide roughly beneath the skin. But this time, there was something different about the procedure. Something very different. He felt a strange collar being placed around his neck. It felt like a combination of metal and plastic. It was maneuvered around, adjusted, pulled tight enough to be uncomfortable but not totally restrictive, and then the man began to maneuver the metal clamp again. Judging from the man’s confident speed, Tygra guessed this had been done before and with regularity.

What felt like a powerful shock jolted through the tiger’s body and he felt a tingling sensation racing across him. A sensation? Tygra heard the guards backing cautiously away and to his surprise, he found himself rolling over to glare at them. I can roll over? And without knowing what he was doing, Tygra had instinctively risen to his feet and taken up a defensive stance. I can stand? The man in the lab coat looked at him with something between a smirk and a sneer. "Get some rest," the man advised mockingly. "You’ll need it."

And with that, the guards exited the room and the door slid shut behind them. The two Thundercats were plunged into darkness.

"Tygra?"

"I can stand."

"I saw. What did they do?"

Tygra shook his head, though he knew Pumyra would be unable to see him. "I don’t know. But…" Tygra reached up and felt his neck. Yes, there was a metal/plastic collar now. It encircled his neck and had some kind of needle in the back that connected to his spine. At least, that’s what it felt like. "They’ve got a new collar on me."

"Me too," Pumyra murmured. "It’s…I don’t know how to describe it, actually. But it’s attached to our bodies at the back."

"Yes, I know," Tygra said quietly.

There was silence for a while and then Pumyra broke it. "Do you have any idea what just happened here? Somehow, they repaired your spinal chord! Do you know what we could do with technology and information like that on Thundera?"

"In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not on Thundera," Tygra reminded her gently. "Let’s worry about that later. Our primary goal is still escape. If we can pick up some other information along the way, that’s fine, too. But our goal is still escape, with or without that knowledge."

"I know," Pumyra replied hoarsely. "But think of it! It takes neurology far beyond anything we’ve ever imagined!" She whistled softly and Tygra could hear her pacing back and forth with the excitement of such a prospect. And then her pacing stopped abruptly. "Tygra? What do they want with us? They can’t be after information. They haven’t interrogated us. I don’t think it’s for any sadistic joy of torture, because we really haven’t been tortured. We’ve been punished, I guess, but not without provocation. What do they want? And why the collars?"

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out," Tygra answered. "I don’t know and I wish I did. There are several possibilities, but I don’t like any of them."

"What are some of them?"

"More or less, they all follow the same train of thought. So if I’m wrong in my basic assumptions, none of these are likely," Tygra warned. "I really don’t have enough information to go on, here."

"Tell me anyway," Pumyra pressed.

She almost saw his characteristic grimace of indecision. "Well, it all goes back to our escape attempt. There was one thing that the guards and that man in the lab coat kept saying over and over. They kept saying the word slave. First possibility: they want us as simple slaves. This seems the most likely, though I can’t fathom why they would come to Third Earth and pick the two of us up. Second possibility: they’re trying to make drones out of us. This one occurred to me a few minutes ago. They have demonstrated technology that takes advantage of our nervous system. Could they possibly control our minds through this technology and does that explain the collars? If this is true, it leads to some rather interesting scenarios which I’m sure you can come up with on your own."

"Like sending us back to Thundera as spies or assassins or turncoats," the puma responded. "We’d be programmed to do whatever it is they wanted us to do."

"Right," Tygra affirmed heavily. "Third possibility: we’ve become lab rats and this is all some big experiment. Again, though, I’m having problems with our selection. With all these possibilities, I have to ask why. Why us? That’s what I don’t know yet and what we need to find out."

"It probably ties in somehow with Thundera. And what about Control? Could this be part of the destruction of Control headquarters?"

"I had considered Control, but how would all this tie in with Thundera? That part I don’t know. Lion-O hadn’t mentioned anything about mercenary humans."

"They seem a little too organized for mere mercenaries," Pumyra commented. "I think they’re part of something bigger."

"Something much bigger," Tygra agreed. "But what? And who and why?" He shook his head. "We don’t have these answers, Pumyra, and we need them. Soon."

"I wonder what the other Thundercats think of our disappearance," Pumyra croaked. "But if this is something big, will they be under attack, too?"

"We can only hope for the best," Tygra answered quietly. "And hope the best is enough."

"By Jaga, where did we go wrong?" Lion-O murmured, holding his tired head in his hands. He looked up across the control room at the Thundercats still on Thundera. "How could we have gone so far astray?"

Cheetara, Snarf, Snarfer, and Lynx-O looked uneasy about answering. Cheetara paced back and forth, Snarfer kept his eyes on the scanners, Snarf bustled about cleaning screens that had been cleaned only a few hours ago, and Lynx-O sat in a brooding silence with his ears tuned to communications.

Lion-O shook his head. "How long before Mantyro and Snoedaro get back, Snarfer?"

Snarfer jumped a little at the mention of his name, but he quickly adjusted the scanners and did a few quick calculations. "Another hour, snarfer. The Lunatac flanking party just took up orbit. Mantyro and Snoedaro insisted on being at the head of the rescue party, so it will take them a little longer before they start the landing sequence."

"Panthro, Cougrois, and Wiley Kat will be checking in within the hour," Lynx-O suddenly spoke up. "What should we tell them? Kat keeps asking about his sister."

"What have we been telling them?" Cheetara asked curiously. "They don’t know about the failure of the rescue team?"

"They don’t even know there was a need for a rescue team," Snarf murmured. He turned to look at his former charge, now a grown lion with more battle experience than almost any Thundercat Lord before his time. But his experience didn’t seem to be doing much good. "Brrrr, I think Wiley Kat has a right to know what happened to Kit, snarf, snarf."

"We don’t know what happened to Kit, and until we do, I don’t want to give her brother any ideas about free-lancing over to Pride and getting himself killed," Lion-O answered quietly.

"But Lion-O, we may have to accept that the worst has happened," Cheetara whispered. "You heard what the rescue party reported. Pride has been decimated. We knew that before, but we didn’t know to what extent. Mantyro and Snoedaro landed. They wandered around looking for survivors. They found burned bodies. You heard TugMug and RedEye report in to Glacion. Did you hear the dismay in their voices? It was almost as if they felt sorrow and compassion for us."

"Aren’t we attributing a bit much to those crazy Lunatacs?" Snarfer wondered. "Sorrow? Compassion? For us?!"

"The Lunatacs broke planetary defenses to send out a rescue party on our behalf," Lynx-O pointed out. "In my mind, they are sincere. They probably do feel sorrow for what has happened. Based on the description we received, not even the mutants could have looked at the devastation and not be moved."

"But that’s beside the point," Cheetara broke in, trying to redirect the conversation. "Obviously, this empire is not taking prisoners, or the colonists would have been captured. Which leads me to believe that our fellow Thundercats are—gone. There isn’t another way to look at it, Lion-O. We have to accept it. And the sooner the other Thundercats accept it, the better."

"They’re not gone. Leonari is not gone," Lion-O insisted quietly. "I would know if she was gone. I would be able to tell."

"I hope you’re right, my friend," Lynx-O whispered. "Since the Sword’s powers cannot penetrate our enemy’s shields and Cheetara’s sixth sense is currently sporadic and indecipherable, we must rely on our own instincts and intuition. But we must rely on them with caution. Be wary of your feelings, Lion-O. They may cloud your judgement."

"They’re alive," Lion-O said again. "They’re alive. I can feel it. We just have to wait. Patience is what we need now. Something will happen. I feel it."

"I set up the signal system, and I found two leopards, a tiger, and a panther who are willing to start a fight near the entrance to the holding area," Leonari reported in hushed tones. "They understand the risks involved and are willing to be part of this. And they’re confident they can distract the guards for at least ten minutes."

Bengali nodded. "That should be long enough to get the grate open. Does everyone understand the plan?" The Thundercats, with the exception of Lepora who was still cultivating a massive headache, nodded. Bengali smiled grimly. "Okay then. Let’s go."

Leonari stood up and casually stretched, her flame-colored hair sweeping across her back in rich, full waves. Bengali and Wiley Kit started edging toward the wall where a thick grate covered a ventilation shaft. Two cheetahs near the center of the room began tossing an empty bottle back and forth in a friendly game of catch. Beyond that, a golden cat slapped a grizzled bobcat on the back and started up an intense conversation. And after that, two leopards, a tiger, and a panther started arguing.

"Now?" Wiley Kit hissed.

"Wait a little longer. They have to catch the attention of all the guards," Bengali whispered back.

"I wish Servalla and Lepora were coming with us," Leonari remarked as she joined Bengali and Kit. "We could use their help."

"They’re both injured, Lepora seriously, and Servalla is needed here," the white tiger reminded her. He kept his eyes on the growing crowd that was surrounding the fighting Thunderians and then saw guards trying to shove their way through. "Okay. Now!"

The three Thundercats grabbed the upper part of the grate and began to pull. Its shrill groan of protest made them wince, but the sounds of battle had risen and there was little chance that they would be overheard. After a few minutes of straining, the bolts Bengali had loosened earlier started to detach from the surrounding metal. "It’s coming soon," Kit warned as she felt her side shift outward.

And then the grate went flying, but Leonari managed to hold on to it as she went rolling backwards. She set it to the side gingerly and then examined their escape route. "They should probably dust in there more often," she observed.

"No time to critique it now," Bengali whispered as he squeezed through the opening and into the shaft. "Come on."

Kit slithered in after the tiger. Leonari turned to her life-long friend and clutched her good arm in a warrior’s grasp. "Be careful, Servalla," the lioness warned.

"Hurry up. I’ll close the grate behind you," the serval urged. "And you’re the one who should be careful."

Leonari gave Servalla quick smile and follows the others into the shaft. She heard the grate shoved back into place and then she shut out all thoughts of what she’d left behind as the lioness concentrated on the job ahead.

Before long, she caught up to Bengali and Wiley Kit. The shaft widened at a junction and the other two lay on their bellies waiting for the lion. "Where now?" Leonari asked, and then grimaced as her voice echoed off the metal walls around them.

"I wish I knew how humans designed their ships," Bengali whispered, his own voice echoing slightly in the tunnels. "My guess is up and forward."

"I agree," Kit seconded. "When we were fighting the ships, it appeared that most of the defenses were positioned to protect that section of the transport. That has to be the control center."

"But do we want to take out the engines?" Leonari asked. "Servalla told me how to get to those, and we should start heading down and backwards if we want to go there."

"Taking out the engines won’t do any good," Bengali reasoned. "It will only delay the inevitable. We’ve been traveling long enough in hyperspace that the other Thundercats will have no idea where to look for us. There’s no hope of outside rescue. No," the white tiger finished, shaking his head. "We have to get to the control room. We need to take over this ship and somehow get it back into Thunderan space."

"What do you suppose they want with us?" Kit asked as she started down a new ventilation shaft. "They haven’t bothered to interrogate us. They’re not after information."

"I don’t know," Bengali whispered behind her as he pulled himself along on his belly. "That’s what I’ve been wondering about. They had every opportunity to kill us, but they didn’t. They want us alive for something."

"Bargaining chips?" Leonari suggested.

"For what? From what I’ve heard, they have enough firepower to successfully take on Thundera. Why would they need us as bargaining chips?"

"You said they separated the children," Kit mused, trying to shove down a cough and a sneeze. "Do you suppose there was a reason for that? Why would they want to separate the Thunderians? There doesn’t seem to be a clear cut rational in that decision"

"Easier to control, I guess," Leonari answered. She was also having sinus problems. All the dust was affecting her sensitive nose and a sneeze wasn’t far off. She valiantly tried to hold it down. "If the children are separated from their parents, it makes the parents easier to control."

"But Kit has a point," Bengali argued. "They don’t seem to be too worried about keeping us under control. If they were, they’d have posted more guards in our holding chamber. They’re quite cocky. If we’re fortunate, this will work to our advantage. I just hope Servalla and Lepora can cover for us long enough."

"Shhh," Kit warned. "We’re coming up on a grate."

The two Thundercats behind her slowed and waited in silence. Kit crawled forward and peered down at the grate in the floor. There didn’t appear to be anyone around. She wondered where this hallway led and what they would find should they attempt to explore it. Curling into a ball, Kit turned herself around in the narrow shaft and then scooted backward and over the grate. She was now facing a curious Bengali and could barely make out Leonari behind the tiger. Motioning them both forward, Kit pointed downward and shrugged. Bengali frowned and looked over his shoulder at Leonari. The lioness wasn’t far enough forward to really see what was going on, but she could guess. She shrugged and indicated it was up to the two in front of her.

Bengali looked through the grating and searched for signs of activities. As far as he could tell, the hall was silent. But there could always be guards standing just out of sight. And the three of them were completely weaponless.

"I was thinking it would be easier for us to find the control room from the hallways rather than crawling around through the pipes," Kit whispered.

The tiger nodded. He’d been thinking the same thing, but there were numerous dangers associated with sneaking through the halls, detection being foremost on that list. "I wish we could tell what was down there," he murmured. Experimentally, Bengali prodded the grating. Removing it would not be too big a chore, but there would be sounds involved. He looked at Kit who returned his gaze firmly and nodded. Looking back at Leonari again, he indicated downward with his head. She nodded.

Bengali swallowed as he slowly began to twist screws and bolts. Noise was kept to a minimum, but as he worked he couldn’t help cringing at the occasional scrape of a screw being withdrawn or a bolt dropping to the floor with a clang. Wiley Kit and Leonari waited in patient silence, each one feeling the build of adrenaline as they anticipated the fight that might wait below. The lioness’s hand strayed unconsciously to her belt where her two daggers would be waiting under normal circumstances. But now they were absent, and Leonari found her resolve hardening into something akin to what martyrs feel when they make the final sacrifice.

With a soft grunt, Bengali lifted the grating out of its place and slid it to the side. Sliding forward on his stomach, he stuck his head through the opening and sneaked a quick look. Pulling his head back up, he grinned at Kit who waited expectantly across the opening from him.

"We’re in luck," he hissed. "We’re going to come down in a cross hallway. It’s a path between two main halls. It doesn’t look like it’s used frequently and the lighting is rather dim compared to the lighting coming from the two main halls."

"I’ll go first," Kit volunteered. "You’ll probably have trouble turning around in this shaft, so belly forward to where I am right now and then slide down backwards." While she was saying this, Kit was curling back into a ball and turning around. She now faced away from Bengali and Leonari. Her feet were hanging over the opening and she pushed herself backwards until her legs dangled down. Then she let herself drop, instantly going into a crouch and searching for guards. But there were none to be found. She heard an impatient hiss from above and shook her head at her own inattentiveness. Chagrined, the Thundercat moved out from under the grating and allowed Bengali to drop down. He, too, went into a crouch as soon as he hit the floor and quickly moved out of the way for Leonari who was not long in joining them.

Eyes and ears scouring the area, they slowly moved in the general direction they guessed the control room to be. Hesitantly, Leonari poked her head down one of the main hallways and quickly withdrew it. She held up four fingers and jerked her head toward the corridor. Bengali’s mouth tightened and he motioned Kit toward the other corridor. The young Thundercat made a stealthy journey backwards and sneaked a look down the other hallway. She turned back and held up both hands and a combination of seven fingers. Bengali sighed and looked around for something they could use as a weapon, but there was no such luck.

Motion caught the tiger’s eye and he looked to find Kit waving frantically. She indicated her hallway and then made a walking motion followed by three fingers. So three guards were coming their way. Well, they’d better make a move. He jerked his head toward Leonari and Kit cam scrambling back. Leonari’s toned muscles were already flexing, preparing for a predatory leap into the open. Bengali steeled himself for a spring and heard Kit shift her position behind him. With a quick nod of his head, the tiger signaled the attack and as one, the three Thundercats leaped into position.

The soldiers were understandably startled, but they also had fast reactions. Leonari took off one way after a lone soldier with a laser rifle, leaving Bengali and Kit to subdue three soldiers armed with two pistols and a stun gun.

Kit felt Bengali seize her arm in a move they’d been practicing with Kat. Instinctively, she leaped as the tiger gave her a push in the right direction. She came down behind two guards and rolled into the third. As the two looked back at the flying Thundercat, Bengali hit them both with a roar that echoed up and down the hallway.

"Are you crazy?" Kit demanded as she took her guard out with a well-aimed kick at his surprised head. "You’ll bring the whole ship down on us."

Laser bolts started to scream from Leonari’s direction and Bengali threw one of his guards against the wall. "I can’t be worse than that little lion is," he retorted, ripping the laser pistol away from the remaining guard.

"You slaves had better give in," the soldier hissed, sizing up his opponents. "You can’t possibly escape. You’ll be destroyed before you have a chance."

"We’ll be the judge of that," Bengali growled as he dove for the guard’s mid-section. Kit jumped out of the way as the two went flying past her and hit the floor with a resounding thud.

"Bengali! He’s got a knife!"

Kit’s warning came too late. The tiger looked up to see a metal flash and then he felt a tearing pain rip through his side. He lost his chokehold on the soldier’s throat and rolled off, feeling the knife shift and slash through tender lung tissue.

The soldier sneered and prepared to thrust the knife further into the injured tiger, but he forgot the other Thundercat who had not been idle. He suddenly found himself hauled to his feet and slammed back into the floor. The knife had been tossed down the hallway and the soldier realized he made a fatal error as he stared into the enraged face of Wiley Kit.

"Kit! What’s going on?"

That was Leonari who came charging up, hauling a laser rifle with her. Brought back to her senses, Kit looked up and seemed to realize where she was. Her eyes narrowed, she looked back down at the leering guard, and knocked him out with a hard punch. "Sorry," she muttered sarcastically. "Nothing personal, you understand."

"Quit talking!" Leonari urged. "We’ve got to get moving. They’re sending more guards this direction. I just took out the squadron in the next hall over with my rifle, but it’s almost drained." As she checked behind her, the lioness suddenly realized that there was a white tiger lying motionless in the hall. "What happened to Bengali?!"

"This guy knifed him," Kit snarled, indicating the unconscious guard with her foot.

"Here," Leonari said, throwing Kit her gun. She quickly rolled Bengali over who had lost consciousness by this time. Checking the damage, the lioness cursed quietly. She glanced down the hall in the direction they’d come from and then made her decision. "Come on, Kit," Leonari ordered, hauling Bengali over her shoulder and grunting with exertion. "We’re heading the right way. Grab those guns and let’s get out of here!"

"These vermin aren’t worth running from," Kit growled, but she followed Leonari’s instructions and swept up the indicated laser pistols. Racing after the lion, she couldn’t help but cringe at shouts that suddenly echoed behind them and vow that no matter what, they would get out of this situation and back on Thundera if it was the last thing she did.

"I’m sorry, Lion-O, but they were long gone by the time we got there. Even the ion trail from their sub-light engines was beginning to fade," Mantyro reported.

"And no sign of survivors," Snoedaro added quietly. He ran his hand through his thick, white mane. "It was odd. I’ve never seen Lunatacs so impassioned before. They wanted to find those ships as much as we did."

"Don’t blame yourselves," Lion-O murmured. He stood quietly in the conference room, staring out the tall, narrow windows. "I should have been more prepared. I should have never sent them out there alone."

"Lion-O?"

Lion-O hadn’t heard the doors to the conference room open, but apparently they had, for Cheetara was now approaching warily. "What is it?" he sighed.

"It’s Sybar. Again."

"What is he up to?" Mantyro growled.

"We’ve lost all communication with both red and white tigers in the mountain ranges. The last message we had from them indicated that the red tigers were planning some kind of offensive. According to Serbino, Sybar had contacted him repeatedly and asked that the tiger clans all be united. And there’s more. A group of panthers sought out Tahee this morning and asked if he and the cheetah clans would unite behind Sybar to challenge the rule of the Thundercats."

"The ‘rule of the Thundercats’?" Lion-O asked. "Since when have we effectively ruled anything?"

"That might be the point," Snoedaro spoke softly.

"Was there anything else, Cheetara?" Lion-O asked.

"Actually, yes. Glacion is waiting in the main hall and wants to see you as soon as possible."

"Glacion is here?!" Lion-O stared at the cheetah in disbelief. "Why didn’t anyone tell me? Is anyone else here that I should know about?"

"If you count RedEye and TugMug, then yes. They’re all down in the main hall. We’ve got a contingent of civilian guards watching them, and Lynx-O’s down there. They arrived only a little while ago and then Tahee contacted us with information about the panthers."

"We’re going to be lucky if we survive the next few days," the lion muttered as he stalked out of the conference room. Exchanging helpless looks, Mantyro, Snoedaro, and Cheetara followed him.

They found the Lunatacs ill at ease in the main hall. Glacion stood rigidly at attention, refusing to make eye contact with any of the surrounding guards. TugMug kept throwing haughty glances out and eyeing the exits with a wistful expression. RedEye seemed to be the calmest one as he studied an overhead picture of the constellations, but he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other and the muscles around his jaw were tight. As Lion-O approached the three, the civilian guards parted for him and Lynx-O fell into step beside the young lord.

"They refuse to state their purpose," Lynx-O told the lion quietly. "They will only speak with you and ask to do so privately. Glacion has agreed that the other Thundercats may attend, but he asks that it go no further than that. He is understandably uncomfortable."

"I’ll bet," Lion-O muttered as he studied the ice Lunatac. He’d never met Glacion in person before, though he’d occasionally conversed with him via com-link over the past two years. Glacion was slightly taller than Chilla with coal-black eyes, but unlike Chilla, those eyes weren’t full of loathing. They were cold, calculating, and intelligent, but they lacked Chilla’s cruelty and hatred. "So Glacion. What can I do for you?"

During this time, Glacion had been studying Lion-O and appeared to be satisfied with what he saw. "We must talk," Glacion said quietly, his voice carrying the characteristic hiss of his species. "Is there a room where we may speak privately?"

"Of course," Lion-O said. "If you will follow me." His eyes fell briefly on TugMug and RedEye, who met his gaze and waited expectantly. "Will you be requiring their presence?" Lion-O asked, his voice clearly conveying mistrust.

"I will be," Glacion said firmly. "If this alliance is to succeed, I believe we will need to work together. This includes putting past grievances behind us."

"Grievances?" Lion-O shook his head and sent a warning glare in the direction of TugMug and RedEye. They returned his look with their own scowls of disapproval, but they had no say in what was taking place. "Grievances is putting it a bit mildly," Lion-O finally said. "This way."

The lion turned with the intention of leading them to the conference room, but he stopped as a commotion started echoing down the hallway. Before long, Snarfer skidded into the main entrance room and made a beeline for Lion-O. "THEY’RE ALIVE!!!"

Lion-O’s heart skipped a beat. "Who’s alive?"

"It’s Leonari and Wiley Kit! They’re calling us!"

"Where?" Cheetara demanded. "Where are they? What happened to them?"

"You guys have just got to hear this for yourself. And we’d better get some ships out there fast, yep, snarfer, or they won’t last long."

Lion-O was already sprinting toward the control room when he suddenly remembered the Lunatacs. Skidding to a halt, he turned and faced Glacion who was watching him closely. Glacion then turned and signaled to RedEye and TugMug. Without a word, the two Lunatacs exited the door and soon there was a sound of engines powering up. "We are ready if you need our aid," Glacion said. "We only need to know where."

"And we’re gone, too," Mantyro announced as he swept past Lion-O with Snoedaro in tow. "We’ll organize the orbital fighters. Contact us when you have details."

Lion-O nodded absently. He studied Glacion and then made a decision. "If you would join us in the control room, Glacion, you would be better able to instruct your troops."

There was a flash of something in Glacion’s eyes and then it was gone. Lion-O didn’t know what it had been, but there wasn’t time to think about it. Glacion was at his side instantly. "Lead the way, Lord of the Thundercats," he instructed. "Together, we will save your friends."

"Leonari, do you have those charts up yet?!" Kit demanded. She was positioned next to the control deck’s only entrance, but the laser rifle that she’d wrestled from a guard was almost drained. She’d already exhausted the power packs in the laser pistols and Leonari’s rifle. Their fight to the control deck had been a whirlwind of chaos that Kit barely remembered. She could still see Leonari throwing Bengali down at one point, ripping loose some wiring from a remote terminal, and starting an electrical fire on one of the lower decks to try and dissuade pursuit. For a while, it had worked, but when the fire was extinguished, the hunt was on again.

"I’m working on it," the lioness snapped from a computer station. Bengali was propped up beside her and seemed to be regaining consciousness. He’d been in and out for the entire crazy race to get here, but he was anything but coherent.

"Leonari, signal again, snarf! We’re losing you!"

The lion stopped whatever she was doing and grabbed communications. "I think they’re dropping static buoys, but I can’t tell. When we fought our way into the control room, one of the navigators destroyed the sensors. We have no idea where we are."

The navigator Leonari spoke of was crumpled in a far corner, probably dead. Kit had seen no need to grant him mercy, especially when he’d drawn a molecular disrupter and tried to use it against the helpless Bengali. That had sent Kit on a rage and Leonari had to slap her a few times to bring he back to her senses. But the destruction and devastation of Pride had been too much for Kit. She was enraged at the treatment they’d received and the number of dead and wounded. Not even the mutants had been this cruel. "If I had my way," Kit growled, "I’d bring that slimy navigator back just so I could kill him again."

Leonari shot Kit a look of death. "Watch the entrance," she commanded. "I can hear them hammering away on the blast doors and it won’t be long before they manage to burn through."

"Leonari!"

Leonari suddenly paled. "Lion-O?" She started adjusting dials on the communication board, only guessing at what she was doing. "Lion-O, is that really you?"

"Where are you?" Lion-O’s voice was garbled by static, but he could still be understood.

"Give me a minute," Leonari answered. She went back to the main board where she again resumed the task of calling up sensor readings. But this time, her attempts were filled with a new purpose. Lion-O’s voice had energized her and she went over the control panels in a fast and furious frenzy. And at last, her efforts were rewarded. The screen before her suddenly cleared and their bleak situation was fully realized in vivid and terrifying detail.

When Kit and Lepora had attacked the warships, there had been the one transport, ten large cruisers, and five mid-sized fighters. There were now fifteen large cruisers, seventeen mid-sized fighters, and the lone transport. And they were all gathering around the transport, ready to destroy it rather than let it escape.

"Status!" Lion-O demanded over the radio.

"Don’t bother," Leonari whispered. "We’re surrounded. If you sent the entire Thunderan fleet, you wouldn’t be able to help us. They’d never get here in time."

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Lion-O was livid and Kit cringed as she envisioned his flaming eyes and bulging neck muscles. As a kitten, she’d rarely seen that side of him, but she’d seen it enough for the memories to still invoke fear. Behind her, the door was growing hot. It wouldn’t be long before the soldiers forced their way in.

"Next to the Nebula Zone," Leonari responded, almost automatically. "Like I said, don’t even bother. We’re—" The lion suddenly stopped and stared at the sensor screen.

"Leonari? Come on, answer me!"

Kit turned away from the door and looked at the lioness. She glanced at the main screen and then froze. "Is that what I think it is?"

"I don’t believe it," Leonari murmured.

Lion-O’s demands and orders from communications were forgotten as both Kit and Leonari stared at the main screen. From beyond the threatening Kentro warships, a rift was opening in space. And merging from hyperspace back into real space were battalions of fighter planes and cruisers. As more of them appeared, the Kentro ships suddenly forgot the rebellious transport and turned to engage the newcomers.

"Mutants!" Leonari hissed.

The ships’ design was unmistakable. The large front cabin, the high-mounted engines, the awkward fin design that was trademark Plun-Darr, it all branded the ships as mutant. Even their entry into real space was characteristic of Plun-Darr war tactics. It was an old trick that involved running a fleet of ships around in a hyperspace circle. Because ships in real space couldn’t detect ships in hyperspace, the mutants had a clear advantage and could emerge and take any foe by surprise. Of course, this involved considerable amounts of fuel, but since the mutants had hordes of slaves to mine more, they didn’t care.

"What are they doing here?" Kit demanded.

"They’re fighting the Kentro ships," Leonari said quietly, astonishment clearly written in her voice.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?" That was Lion-O again, but his voice was devoid of the static. Leonari and Kit realized that the mutants had eliminated the static buoys. A bright flash lit the screen as a heavy cruiser exploded.

Leonari moved to answer her future mate, but before she could do so, an overriding communication signal took over the view screen.

"Greetings, Thundercats."

"Rataro! What do you want?" Lion-O yet again. Apparently, the rat’s signal was being transmitted to Thundera as well. Leonari stayed away from the communication panel and decided to let Lion-O handle this one.

"Currently, nothing," the rat answered calmly. "I do this as a peace offering. When we are finished, we will escort this transport back to Thundera and your Thunderians will be returned to you."

"What’s the catch?" Lion-O sneered.

"We ask that you listen to us."

Lion-O was about to respond when there were suddenly background noises in the Cat’s Lair. After a while, a new voice was on the com-link. "Rataro, this is Glacion. Is this an extension of the proposal you gave us yesterday?"

"Ah, Glacion. I did not know you already had allies in this war. But yes, you may view it as such. Simply put, Thundercats and Lunatacs, we face the same enemy you face. We fight the same war you fight. You have not battled this empire for as long as we have, and we can tell you that you will not win. Alone that is." Rataro had a curious expression on his face and Wiley Kit felt shivers coursing up and down her spine. "But together…" The rat lowered his voice to what could almost be called a seductive whisper. "Together we can achieve greatness. Let us take what you have begun and build on it until even the Kentro Empire trembles in fear."

"What do you want, Rataro?" That was Lion-O again, his voice low and dangerous. Leonari could tell instantly just how suspicious the lion was by the fact that he distinctly annunciated and emphasized each and every word.

"My dear Lord of the Thundercats!" Rataro laughed derisively. "You have not yet guessed? It is simple. We wish to join your alliance."