Part Three : Legends
He awoke on a soft, warm bed, surrounded by pillows and a thick comforter.The bed was located in a simply-furnished room, with thick red carpet and light tan walls.
His soiled and ruined clothing was gone.Someone had bathed him, for his fur was clean and freshly scented.This examination made him aware that his abdominal pain was gone as well.He then turned his attention to how his arm had been treated.

He slid it gingerly out from beneath the covers, marvelling at the lack of pain he was experiencing.Once the arm was exposed, this marvel was explained, and replaced by a greater one.

His arm was uninjured.The burn was gone, covered with healthy skin.The expected bald patch resulting from scarring was likewise absent, replaced with thick fur.

He flexed and stretched the arm, wondering if the entire episode had been a dream.As he continued to awaken, he became aware of an urgent need to find the restroom.This need surfaced so abruptly and severely, it drove all other concerns from his mind for the moment.

He found the restroom adjoining to the main chamber, seperated by an automatic door that slid into the wall as he approached.He relieved himself, then went to the sink to wash up.He splashed warm water onto his face, brushing it away with his hand, then looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He froze.

He leaned slowly forward over the sink, a deep and primal fear making his heart thud painfully in his chest.

His eyes were green, like his father's.They had always been green, all his life.

They were no longer green.They were a deep blood red, flecked with gold.As he gazed into them, he could see the golden flakes shift and move within the iris like living things.

A sound of a door reached him from the main chamber. He walked to the door, too stunned to care about caution or stealth.

In the main room Tawn-Ya, wearing a simple white bathrobe, was setting items in covered dishes onto a small table by the bed.She too was cleaned up and obviously feeling better, for she went about her task almost merrily, humming off-key to herself.

She heard his tread on the carpet and turned to face him, her smile broad and cheerful, her eyes the same as his.

"Oh, you're awake," she said brightly.

Jaga fainted.

"So when do I meet this hostess of ours?" he asked.

"Soon," she said."A couple of hours.Try the fish, it's delicious."

Jaga took a bite, nodded.He was still trying to absorb what had happened.

Tawn-Ya had been contacted by an entity calling itself "Bast-Et", who had in some manner preserved her life, even after the ape Vertok had injured her so horribly.The same method had been used to heal them both, another method to convey them to this place of shelter.

Only one hour had passed since Jaga had lain helpless witness to what he'd believed to be Tawn-Ya's murder.

"Tell me again why this creature helped us?" he asked.

"She," Tawn-Ya said, emphasizing the pronoun."She knew us in ages past, long before man took to the stars.Her resemblance led primitive man to think her a cat goddess, and they worshipped her as such."

"She spent so much time in the company of cats, she developed a real fondness for us.You might say she looks at us as her foster children."

Jaga took another bite of fish.It was called a "salmon steak", and it was distractingly tasty.

"What about our eyes?" he asked as he chewed.

"A part of her power.She invested something into our bodies, something that preserves life and speeds healing.The change to our eyes is an outward sign of it's presence."

Tawn-Ya paused, then reached out and took the fork from Jaga's hand and set it down on the tray.She took the hand and pulled, prompting Jaga to face her.

He looked into her eyes (quite lovely once you got used to them, even mezmerizing) and swallowed noisily.Tawn-Ya slid closer.She leaned forward, her lips brushing his.Abruptly he turned away and slid backwards across the bed, coming to lean against the headboard.His expression was strange; he would not look at her. 

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Jaga sat still and silent.He wanted to speak, opened his mouth to speak, but could not find the words he wanted.She watched him, absorbing his distress, sorting it with that curious wisdom of her gender.After a moment she crawled across the bed and knelt on the mattress at his feet.

"Do you remember when we were in the hut at the ruins?" she asked him softly.Without waiting for a reply, she continued."You told me your getting hurt wasn't my fault, because you chose to get involved.You knew the risks and chose to take them.And you said if you could do it all again, you'd still have done it."

"We both know Iowe you my life several times over, and I think that's why you're holding yourself back.You're afraid I feel obligated to thank you somehow," she said.

Jaga said nothing.He just looked at her.She crawled forward until she was straddling his legs.She leaned close to him, placed her hands on either side of his face, and spoke softly to him.

"Tonight, when you go, I am not..Bast-Et is returning to the stars, and I am going with her.My family is gone now, I have no reason to stay, and she has promised to show me wonders like no mortal has seen in a thousand lifetimes."

"You are the finest, bravest, most selfless person I've ever known.I never knew what 'valiant' was until I met you.I do not know if I will ever see this world or another of my kind again, but before I go, I would lie with you, Jaga.Not because of debt, but because I know in my heart I will never love anyone else in the same way I love you."

She rocked back on her knees, her eyes never leaving his.She untied the belt of her robe, letting it fall open.She took it from her shoulders and let fall away behind her, sitting naked and exposed before him.

For a long moment, Jaga did nothing except gaze at her.Then he reached up, placed his hand gently on the back of her neck, and with a quavering sigh, drew her to him.

He was back in his uniform, which had been cleaned and repaired by the unseen agents of this mysterious host of theirs.Tawn-Ya was beside him, clothed in a simple tunic and trousers, the same shade red as her eyes.

They walked down the quiet, empty corridor from the room they'd shared these last two heavenly hours.Jaga remembered how Tawn-Ya had awakened him from his light doze with a whisper of "It's time."He'd not needed to be told time for what.

Jaga noticed the architecture of the structure as they went.The walls and ceiling were a uniform beige, very tranquil.The floor was covered in a low -pile red shag carpet.There were few doors, archways appearing to stand in greater favor with their hostess.Those doors they did pass through were automatic, gliding soundlessly open at their approach, closing when they were safely passed.

The place was comfortably warm, and there was a scent on the air that he could not name, but appealed to him strictly on an instinctive level, giving him an irrational urge to find the source and rub his face in it.

They came at last to a double door marked with the insignia Jaga had come to recognize as the seal of Bast-Et.The doors swung open to admit them as they neared.

The main hall had a high vaulted ceiling and walls from which hung rich tapestries of fabrics he could not name.The floor was a brightly colored mosaic of irregularly-shaped tiles, multicolored as a tray of gemstones.To the front of the chamber was a dias topped buy a large throne, seemingly hewn from a single gigantic block of obsidian.It was decked with large, soft-looking pillows and cushions, all a rich burgundy.Atop these sat Bast-Et in elegant repose.

She was nude, as appeared to be her custom.Her body was covered with a dense coat of rich golden fur, paler over her breasts and midriff.Her legs, folded on the seat beside her, were long and slender.The leonine head that graced her neck wore a look of perpetual serenity, of unshakable confidence and complete inner peace.

The glory of her extended far past the physical, however.From her radiated an aura of power that was almost tangible, terrifying in it's potency.Her eyes glowed like smoldering coals as they turned towards the speechless Thundercat warrior.They met his, held them, and into his mind poured a stream of sensation.Pride, affection, pleasure, acceptance, one after the other, buffeting Jaga's soul.

If the beauty of her had taken his voice away, this communion with her brought him to his knees.

The wave swept past, and Jaga found he could think and breathe again.There were tears on his face, and he could not remember how they'd gotten there.He did not remember weeping.His heart was filled with a passion for this creature such as he'd never experienced before.To live for her would be honor; to die for her, glory.

There was so much he wanted to ask her, but did he dare?

Speak, my warrior, he heard within his mind.My children need have no fear of me.

"Are...," he said haltingly, his voice a hoarse croak."Are you a god?"

He sensed amusement in the reply.Once your ancestors called me such.I and my brethern encouraged this, since it made the work of civilising them easier.But no, I am not a god.Men called me Bast-Et, and by such I shall be known to you.

He began to speak again and found he couldn't.He knew what he wanted to say, but the words refused to form.An emotion he could neither recognize nor name filled him and began to spill in clear streams from his eyes.He choked, and the choke became a sob.His hands, then his whole body began to shake.And still he could not speak.

Bast-Et rose from her seat with a movement so smooth and fluid it seemed to defy gravity.She stepped down from the dias and approached the Thundercat warrior.He watched her come, trembling, transfixed.

She extended her hands to him, palms up.Tentatively, Jaga reached up and took them.She pulled him to his feet and to her body, cradling him in her arms.She stood a full foot taller than he, and as she held him, the stress broke, and Jaga began to weep in loud, agonized sobs.

She held him, stroking his hair, letting the pain and fear flow out of him to dampen the fur of her breast.Finally the storm began to subside, but still they remained together as she caressed and soothed the trembling warrior.

"We're dying," Jaga said in a hoarse whisper.

I know, came the reply.

"Help us..."

We will.Together.

Claudis stood by the window of the town hall, looking out onto the street below.The afternoon sun shown down on the ruined buildings and ruined bodies of Tigris City and her defenders.

Barely an adult, Claudis had become Lord of the Thundercats when his father was assasinated a year earlier.Intelligent, compassionate, inheritor of his father's strategic genius, Claudis had retained his throne and held the remnants of his people together, averting a civil war that would surely have been the end of them.

Today, the young lion king wondered if it were all in vain.Marching up the street were ranks of Monkian troopers, led by their commander, the infamous gorilla Vertok.They had taken the western outpost and used it as a staging area for the assault on Tigris they had staged this morning.

The battle was nearly over.The city was crushed, the population was being processed for slavery, and the most of the remaining defenders were assembled, along with their visiting Lord, in the fortified town hall.They would not last long.

Claudis watched the enemy advance, feeling a numbness inside him, like a soldier who knows he's been dealt a mortal wound.With Tigris in their possession, the Clannad would be able to fan out, taking other settlements and cities, establishing an ever-greater presence, until they ferreted out and destroyed every last Thundercat.

He wondered what his fate would be, slavery or death.He checked the charge on his laser rifle and mentally calculated how many shots he had before it was spent.He needed to make certain he had one left for himself in the event he survived the attack.

He looked back outside, and raised his eyebrows in suprise.A single figure had exited a nearby alley and was now walking unhurriedly towards the Mutant lines.Although the form was wrapped in a heavy cloak, Claudis could tell by the gait it was a Thundercat.

Claudis shrugged mentally.To each their own suicide, he supposed.

"Hey, take a look at this," a Monkian trooper said to the primate beside him in the front line.He gestured towards the lone figure moving towards them, swathed in a thick cloak.

"This one must want to die," the other replied."He's got nothing but a sword."

"You can have the sword," said the first."I've got one already.But that fancy glove is mine."So saying, he shouldered his plasma rifle and fired.

Jaga charged forward with blinding speed, leaving the vacated cloak in the air alone for an instant before plasma fire disintegrated it.

Before the Monkians understood what was happening, he was on top of them.His senses expanded, his metabolism skyrocketed.He could see in all directions at once, could guide the sword with a thought, could feel the sword guide him.A perfect union of weapon and warrior, they struck in all directions, cuttingthrough both armor and flesh with equal ease.

Panicked, the pimates began to fire at the whirling engine of death in their midst.Some of their shots went wide, striking others of their own kind.Those that were on target were detected by the otherworldly blade, which prompted Jaga to dodge or deflect as needed, sending the primates' volleys back at them, no less lethal for the change of target.The stink of charred hair and flesh filled the air.

The troopers attempted to fall back as their formation disintegrated, but the swordsman pressed in on them.As he broke through their lines, the primates attempted to surround him and close with maces and short swords, only to be struck down in even greater numbers, their weapons sheared and broken.

As his men retreated, Vertok shoved and pushed his way to a position where he could see the enemy warrior who was wreaking such havoc.He waited till the Thundercat was facing away from him, then fired his hand blaster at the back of the warrior's head.

In the space of time that the ape's finger closed on the trigger, and the plasma burst departed the muzzle of the blaster, the warrior's gloved left hand passed between weapon and target, deflecting the burst away and into the body of a Monkian closing from the rear, blowing a hole through the creature's gut.

Vertok stared in amazement.How could he know I was here? he thought.Then the warrior turned and faced him.

"You!" Vertok blurted out as Jaga slashed his way towards him.The ape roared with insensate fury, raising his blaster and emptying it ineffectually at the advancing warrior.

Vertok froze as the Thundercat was suddenly in front of him.He saw blood-red eyes that blazed brilliant gold.Then his head flew from his shoulders, and he saw nothing again.

The Monkian soldiers fell back and began to send volleys of plasma at the Thundercat.Jaga danced away from the center of fire and passed his sword in a swift arc in front of him, completing the movement by holding the weapon aloft.

The mutants reoriented and continued to fire.The bursts of destructive energy they launched at him struck an invisible field of energy left in the wake of the sword's passing.The bursts were rebounded back outward, striking the front ranks of the mutant troops, cutting the primates down.

"Ho!" Over the din of battle rang a loud cry, echoing from dozens of mouths.Charging out of the town hall was a small force of Thunderans, weilding their laser rifles, cutting into the mutant flank, throwing the remaining forces into disarray.

Their attention divided, the mutant fusilade on the swordsman faltered.Instantly, he stormed into their ranks, leaving a trail of dead and dying monkians in his wake.

Somwhere a retreat was sounded, and the primates began to withdraw.As they fell back, the swordsman fought his way to the side of a youthful lion warrior.As the youth and his fellows began to give pursuit, the swordsman signaled him to wait.

The weapons were still; most were depleted of charge.The Monkians backed warily away from the Thunderan line, their weapons snapping up to orient on the swordsman who had snatched victory away from them as he strode confidently to the middle of the lane and turned to face their direction.

Jaga slashed the sword at his feet, once, twice.When he'd finished, it had shrunken to the size of a dagger.This he raised in a sort of salute, gazing levelly at the mutants through the circles formed by the ornate crossbar.Then his eyes flared gold and he snapped the sword directly to his right, the blade metamorphosing from dagger to short sword.

"Thunder..." he intoned, and the word rolled across the city like the force it named.Throughout Tigris, the fighting between mutant forces and isolated pockets of Thunderan resistance halted as all eyes turned skyward.

The warrior drew the blade across his body in a gaurding stance.The weapon transformed again, from shortsword to broadsword.

"Thunder..." and the word shattered windows for blocks around, driving mutant and Thunderan alike to their knees, weapons forgotten, hands clapped over their ears.

The warrior thrust the weapon two-handed into the air, catching the fading light of the sun on its shining blade.The weapon enlarged again, becoming a longsword.

"Thunder..." and the earth shook.The pavement of the streets cracked.Those beings still on their feet stumbled and fell, their terrified cries lost in the roar of sound.

The warrior continued to hold the sword aloft, and now he echoed the ancient battle cry of his people from time immemorial.

"Thundercats...Ho!" he cried, and the cat's-eye jewel embedded in the sword's hilt opened into the image of a roaring feline profile.The jewel then erupted in a glory of crimson laser-like radiance that washed across the darkening sky, transposing the image miles-wide across the heavens.

The glow of that image was accompanied by a mighty roar, as though all the great cats that had ever lived voiced together their praise of their decendants.

The Thundercat population saw and heard all of this, did not recognize it, but knew it was for them.From across the city came a great answering cry of Ho!, torn from the throats of every living Thundercat there.

The mutants, to the last, threw down their weapons and fled in abject terror.

Jaga held the sword high for several minutes, then lowered it, extinguishing the signal.He returned it to dagger form, removed the claw shield and sheathed the weapon inside it.He pressed the glove to his thigh, where it remained, adhering to him by it's own power.

The lion youth removed his helmet and said "Nice work.That's quite a sword."Jaga stared for a moment before realization set in."My Lord!" Jaga exclaimed, and dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

"M'lord, this is an honor..." Jaga stammered as the other soldiers gathered in a circle around their king and their hero..

"May I see it?" Claudis asked.

"See what?" Jaga asked, looking up in bewilderment.

"Your sword?" Claudis said with a chuckle.

"Oh, of course," Jaga said.He slid the sword from it's sheath and passed it hilt-first to Claudis.

The Thundercat Lord took the weapon and held it up, examining it.It was a highly reflective metal alloy, silvered to nearly white.The cat's eye gem was large and fluid, hypnotically beautiful.

Claudis turned his attention to Jaga."Who gave you this weapon?"

"Someone," Jaga hesitated for a moment, "Someone who has not forsaken us."

Claudis canted his head at this cryptic statement, but did not press for more.He looked around at the assembled soldiers, all of whom gazed at Jaga with an awed expression on their faces.He looked back at Jaga, met the warrior's eyes, held them.

It would be written by historians centuries later that among the many gifts Claudis had inherited from his father, the most useful and versatile was an almost psychic ability to look at a person and divine the true depths of their character and nature.Every success of Claudis' reign could be traced eventually to that ability to understand his fellowmen.

It would also be written about a friendship that shaped the destiny of a people, and eventually, a galaxy; of two only-sons, whose love for each other was as strong as that any brothers had ever shared.So strong that as the ruler lay dying, his world crumbling to fragments, he would entrust the life of his only son to that same blood-brother, in a desperate bid to reach a distant, half-mythical haven called Third Earth.

Claudis extended the sword over Jaga's head, glancing at the name-tag sewn onto the puma’s breast..As though it read his intentions, the weapon grew to it's fullest extension, the cat's eye gem opening, a low growl emanating from it.

Claudis lowered the sword to rest on Jaga's shoulder."Jaga of Puma Clan:.In recognition of you courage and prowess, as well as the unique gifts granted you by your mysterious patron,I Claudis, Lord of the Thundercats, do this day bestow upon you a new office."

"Do you swear your mind, your heart and your life to the defense of this Thundercat people, and to the service of your lord?"

"I do," said Jaga solemly.

"Then from this day forward, you will be called Jaga, First Lord Defender of Thundera.Where you go, I am with you.You will speak with my voice, act in my name."

"Now rise, Lord Jaga, and let our hope rise with you."

Continued...


So why doesn't Lion-O have this psychic power?  I think it could really help the poor guy out.  More fanfics!

We lost Jaga's girl friend.  Oh well. Main page.