The Weaponmaster's lair was situated in the canopy of a massive copse of immense trees, themselves isolated from the rest of the forest by an artificial circular clearing, nearly a mile across. The clearing was heavily guarded by armed patrols of infantry and roaring phalanxes of Thundertanks, creating a moat of raw muscle and incredible firepower on every side.

It took nearly an hour to pass through the many security checkpoints before Jaga and Chetnya were at last admitted to the fortress proper. Jepthah escorted them through the myriad winding halls and chambers, doubling back on occasion, challenged three more times by guards.

Eventually they were led into a simple waiting room. There were couches and chairs of fine craftsmanship. A low table set with an assortment of fruits and nuts was accompanied by a bottle of wine chilling in a pail of ice. The panther seargent left them there while he went to announce their arrival.

Chetnya sat down on a plush divan while Jaga assembled a plate from the offerings laid out for them. After a moment he joined her, handing her a knife and a nut-cracker, then setting a second dish between them for the shells.

"The defenses here seemed pretty impressive," he said around a mouthful of pear.

Chetnya selected a pecan and set about breaking the brittle shell. "Gideon is a pragmatist at heart. He takes the Bushi traditions seriously, but not so seriously he'd stake his life on them."

"Bushi?" Jaga asked. He'd heard the word somewhere, but couldn't recall the meaning. "Some kind of religion?"

Chetnya fished a bit of shell from her teeth with the tip of her claw. "No, Panther Clan worships Man, just like the rest of you heathens," she said. "Bushi is a warrior philosophy. It colors every aspect of Panther Clan life, from their dress and architecture to their lives and deaths. The primary tennents are unflagging courage and a willingness to lay down their lives in the pursuit of a goal."

"'Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all of your might'," Jaga said, reciting the ancient proverb from memory.

"Not exactly," Chetnya said, fishing around in the bowl. "The only sin bushi recognizes is cowardice, and cowardice is defined as refusing to accept a challenge. A panther will take a mission, no matter how suicidal, because to not do so would be unforgivable."

Chetnya got up and poured a glass of wine for each of them. As she did, she said, "Panther Clan has suffered the heaviest losses of any Thundercat race because of Bushi. A panther team will either return victorious, or not return at all."

"There's something noble about that," Jaga said as he took his glass.

"What's noble about extinction?" Chetnya said as she sat back down. "Panther Clan has a great heart, Lord Defender, but if they keep thinking with it instead of their brains, they will be the first clan exterminated."

The door opened and a panther trooper strode inside, stopping in front of Jaga at crisp attention. "Lord Defender, I must beg your forgiveness, but Lord Gideon has been delayed indefinitely. He asks that I lead yourself and your chattel to your room for the evening."

"Chetnya is my companion," Jaga said very quietly. "She is no one's chattel."

The room was suddenly cold. "M-my a-apologies, Lord Defender," the youth stammered. "I would never..."

"I'm sure you won't again, either," Jaga interrupted. He stood then, making the panther back away hastily. Chetnya rose beside him, and they followed the trooper through still more winding corridors until at last they came to the guest wing.

The soldier opened the left door and said, "This is your apartment, m'lord. It is fully equipped, but should you need anything, just press the intercom."

"What about this one?" Jaga said, pointing to the door across the hall.

"Oh," the panther said, taken off guard. "It is the same as m'lord's, but not prepared."

"Prepare it then," Jaga said. "Chetnya will take this room, and I will sleep in the other when it is complete."

The boy looked at Chetnya, then back at Jaga, then back at Chetnya again. He straightend up to attention and turned to face the cheetah directly.

"Forgive me, m'lady," he said. "I have assumed too much, and the fault is entirely mine." To Jaga he said, "I will see to your quarters personally m'lord. No detail will be missed."

He and Jaga eyed each other a moment, then the puma nodded curtly and the youth hastened away. Jaga opened the door for Chetnya, and they went into what was now her room.

The cheetah went to the sofa and draped herself across the cushions while Jaga began to rifle the cooler. "He thought I was yours," she said with a bemused grin.

Jaga came over with two open bottles of Panther Black, widely regarded as the best stout on Thundera. They sat beside each other a while as they drank.

"Is that what made you angry? That he assumed we were 'together', so to speak?"

Jaga shook his head. "It's hard to explain."

Chetnya leaned forward. "Try," she said.

Jaga turned to face her on the sofa. He hesitated a moment, then said, "Before we left I took a walk around Capital City's shopping district. I wanted to get out for a while and have some time to myself, to think about everything that's happened."

"I walked for about half an hour or so, when suddenly everything became very quiet and still. It wasn't a deafness, I could still hear the voices of the people and the ground cars' engines. It was more like something inside me had become still, making my senses clearer instead of muddying them. Everything around me was intensified, detailed. It was like seeing a color, and for the first time noticing the shade of it, not just the color itself. I could see, smell, hear everything, and my mind seemed to take it all in, soak it up."

"It was the people that affected me,, though. My people, the Thundercats. It felt like I had spent my entire life walking by them without ever looking at them. They were so beautiful, so full of life and potential." He chuckled, then added, "I must have looked the fool, standing in the middle of the causeway like that, just staring at them."

"It took an hour for that feeling, that stillness to wear off, and Ithink I'd give just about anything to feel it again. But even so, the memory of what I experienced, that moment, it's changed me somehow. It's made me realize how precious each one of us is."

His eyes were distant, but warm. "Our forefathers ruled an empire, and we are their inheritors. Whether we win or lose this war, even if we do go down into extinction, I will always be proud of what I am. A Thundercat."

"Will it come to that, Jaga?" Chetnya asked softly.

"No," Jaga said. "I won't let it."

*****

Jaga awoke from a deep dreamless sleep, instantly aware of the warning growl from the Sword of Omens, resting in it's rack beside the bed. He kicked the light covers away and reached for the weapon.

Behind him, the door to his room crashed open. A Panther Clan warrior stepped through the opening, aimed a plasma rifle at the puma's back, and fired.

But Jaga was already moving, and the hot corona of the burst only seared his fur. The puma spun to face his attacker, and as another blast hissed towards him, Jaga caught it on the flat of the Sword's blade, deflecting it, sending it back at the panther.

The warrior's brain and cerebral fluid vaporized on contact with the solar energy of the shot, exploding his skull. A fountain of arterial blood arced weakly upward from the burnt stump as the corpse stagged back towards the door, blocking it, buying Jaga a precious second.

The puma used those instants to grab up the claw shield from here it lay on the dresser, and one other object he'd set out the night before. Sheathing the Sword in the shield and pressing it to his thigh, he tucked his cargo into his belt, then threw himself at the wall of his room adjoining the hallway.

Outside in the hall, three panthers stood facing the door to the Lord Defender's room, while another two furiously kicked at the door into Chetnya's chambers. Both parties turned in suprise as Jaga smashed bodily through the wooden wall and into the hallway.

Jaga flew into the group like a machine, striking with deadly precision and irresistable power. The nearest began to bring his weapon up when four half-inch claws sliced his jugular vein open. Before he had fallen, his nearest team mate was driven back to the wall, his windpipe crushed by an open-handed chop to the throat.

The three remaining attackers backed away a few paces, training their weapons on him as they did. Jaga could feel the Sword at his side touch his mind, see through his eyes, instantly calculating the trajectories of the blasts.

The first went wide. The second and third shots would have killed the puma, but he had already ducked out of the line of fire, flattening his body against the wall.

The soldiers adjusted their aim, but not before Jaga was on top of them. He took the one furthest to his left, swatting the rifle barrel aside and dragging the panther across his body as the remaining panthers fired. The panther screeched in agony as he absorbed both plasma bolts in his back, vaporizing his spine and most of his innards.

Jaga shoved the mortally-wounded panther into the next one, knocking him down and spoiling the aim of the last. Before the one panther standing could recover, Jaga hopped forward and delivered a lunging kick that pinned the Thundercat to the wall and crushed his rib cage.

As the last panther stuggled free of his dead comrade, Jaga reached for him, intending to get some answers. But before he could get to him, a laser bolt pierced the panther's heart, killing him instantly.

Jaga turned to find Chetnya, fully dressed and holding her laser pistol. Behind her, from the end of the hall, came Jepthah, leading six more panthers behind.

"Another assaination attempt?" Chetnya spat angrily at the panther sergeant. "What kind of security does Panther Clan have? If I hadn't barred my door-"

"The palace is in rebel hands," Jepthah said plainly, cutting her off. "We must get you both out of here now."

"Gideon?" Jaga asked.

For a moment, just a moment, the panther's grim facade faltered, and it seemed as though he spoke of his own father.

"Dead."