When he first opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness.

It was a terrifying experience. Bengali had never expected to open his eyes again. He was sure that he’d been dying, so the fact that he could still open his eyes and the fact that he couldn’t see frightened him. He didn’t know where he was, if he was dead, if this was some cruel joke played by the guardians of the after-life, or if he was condemned for all eternity.

Then he tried to move.

Bengali quickly found out the hard way that he was still alive. Pain shot through every inch of his body and his lungs staggered for air as broken ribs snagged against them. The tiger also discovered that something was restricting his movements. Restraining harnesses of some kind, probably.

Denied movement and sight, Bengali began to concentrate on other senses. He could smell something. Rubbing alcohol? Something like that. He had to be in a medical facility. The smell of sterile equipment, spotless floors, and sanitized counters began hammering at his sensitive nose. Yes, he was definitely in a medical facility.

What about sound? What could he hear? The tiger concentrated and soon made out the faint rumble of engines. He must be on a ship. What else could he hear? Beeps. Probably medical monitors. And something that sounded vaguely like…an air compressor? The tiger wasn’t sure. Finally giving up, he moved on to other senses.

Taste…now that was an interesting one. It had taken him a while to realize it, but there was something in his mouth. It felt like a tube, it tasted like plastic, and it seemed to go down his throat.

Bengali would have taken more time to analyze this, but a light stabbed through the darkness as a door opened to his room. Dim lamps came on slowly and the tiger could see two figures enter. They were rather small, but he somehow knew they were full-grown Thunderians. "Ocelots," he whispered to himself, though with the tube in his mouth it came out more as a moan than a word.

The ocelots seemed to hear the tiger and looked up. "Bengali?"

The lights brightened around the tiger’s bedside, and Bengali was forced to squint against their intensity. Two shadows loomed above him and he couldn’t quite suppress a warning growl.

"It’s okay, Bengali, you’re with friends now. You remember me, don’t you? We talked earlier, but I don’t know how coherent you were."

The tiger’s eyes were beginning to adjust, but he was having a hard time focusing. The figures now standing over him waved back and forth. He tried to say something, anything, but the tube in his mouth was quite effective at blocking speech.

"I think he’s going to keep breathing on his own now," one of the figures said. "Let’s remove the air tube and take him off life support monitoring."

The other figure nodded slightly and Bengali then felt a number of changes take place. Something was pulled out of his chest, a rather interesting sensation and one he hoped to never have again. The tube was pulled from his throat and mouth, yet another interesting sensation. Wires were being taken off his abdomen and he heard some of the machines shut down. Through it all, he continued to growl, still unsure of what was happening and unwilling to trust anything in this new environment.

"Bengali, it’s okay. Rociyro, can we let him up?"

"I’d rather not. His ribs are still mending, and he could easily puncture a lung."

The other ocelot sighed and turned back to the tiger. "Bengali, it’s me. Stealon. Remember me? We met on Lotari. You and Tygra were accused of murdering Traun. There were some problems and—"

"I was there," Bengali growled softly. "I remember it quite well. We were wrongly accused and Celotta saw to it that there was enough evidence to not only convict us of murder but to get a death sentence, too."

Stealon sighed. "I know. But Bengali, those were Celotta’s actions. Not mine."

The white tiger closed his eyes and jerked against the restraints. "Why am I tied down?"

"When we brought you onboard, you were having seizures," the other ocelot explained. "We had to restrain you, especially with your broken ribs. One lung had already collapsed. The other wasn’t far off."

"How long have I been here?"

The two ocelots looked at each other. "Not quite a day," Stealon finally estimated. "We’re nearing Thundera now, actually. If we’re fortunate, you’ll be back in Cat’s Lair soon."

Something about the way Stealon spoke caught Bengali’s attention. "What do you mean? Why did you say ‘if we’re fortunate’?"

"Maybe you should get some more sleep," the other ocelot suggested.

"And who are you?" Bengali demanded.

"Bengali, meet Rociyro. He’s my second-in-command. He’s also a fairly good medical officer. I think you should follow his advice."

"Not until I get some answers," the white tiger snarled.

"And I wondered what our ancestors had against tigers," Rociyro murmured.

"You’re not helping," Stealon hissed to his advisor.

"Bengali?"

A new voice turned everyone’s head toward the doorway. Rociyro instantly frowned. "I thought you were sleeping. The medicine Stealon gave you should still be effective."

"The medicine wasn’t meant for a snow leopard," Snoedaro replied, his voice cold and quiet. "Our metabolism works on a different level. Adjust your dosage the next time you drug me."

"You’ve got Snoedaro, too?" Bengali asked, his foggy mind trying to understand the situation. "What is this, some big hostage operation? Did the snow leopards offend you or something? Did another ruler die?"

"The white tigers were always known for being suspicious," Rociyro muttered. "Quick to leap to conclusions and quick to act."

"Bengali, you’ve just had a very traumatic experience. You’re not thinking clearly," Stealon tried to explain. "Listen for a minute. We’re taking you home to Thundera. We hold no ill feelings toward you. You’re not a hostage, you’re a patient. And you’re injured. Let us help you."

"And what do you get in return?" the tiger sneered.

Stealon was quiet for a minute, searching the white tiger’s face for something. Whatever he was looking for, he apparently found it. He sighed in resignation and answered the question. "We no longer have a home, Bengali. We were hoping we could return to Thundera. We were hoping that you and Snoedaro could help us."

The tiger blinked. "What do you mean? What happened to Lotari?"

"Kentro." Stealon’s voice was hard and final with an underlying current of loss. "Kentro happened to Lotari."

Snoedaro frowned and stepped forward. "Kentro destroyed your planet? When? Why didn’t you come to us when it happened?"

"It happened about two years ago," Rociyro whispered. "We had no warning. At least your planet was given some time. Kentro still can’t attack you directly."

"How do you know that?" Bengali growled. "How do you know anything about Thundera?"

"We’re accompanied by some wolf ships, and Panthro is on one of them," Stealon replied. "We’ve done some talking. Are we qualified to answer your questions now?" Bengali bit his lip and looked away. "Thank you. When Kentro came to Lotari, we had no warning. They merely showed up. They told us to accompany them and that we had no choice. We were to be ‘reeducated.’ We resisted. Many of our people died. Many were captured. The few of us who escaped have lived in these ships for the past two years. The planet itself was decimated. It won’t be able to support life for some time."

"But why didn’t you come to us?" Snoedaro pressed.

"Because we knew we were watched. They were using us to find Thundera. We couldn’t warn you, because we’d lead Kentro to your doorstep. It was only a few days ago that we learned they’d found Thundera anyway."

There was silence for a while. Both Thundercats were trying not to make eye contact with the two ocelots. It was Snoedaro who finally spoke. "My apologies, Stealon. I spoke without thinking."

"Me, too," Bengali murmured. "Is…" the tiger trailed off, searching for a name. "Is Justry with you? I wouldn’t mind seeing him again."

"Justry died in the fight," Stealon said shortly.

"Oh." The white tiger cursed his clumsy ability with words. "Look, Stealon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—"

"It is already forgiven," Stealon assured him. "Their deaths are all in the past. Now we must turn our minds to the present where there are more important things to deal with."

"Right," Bengali said. "Well, if you can patch me in to Thundera, I’m sure I can convince Lion-O to let you stay somewhere. I don’t think the white tigers will mind. Most of us don’t even remember the ocelots. And the red tigers are all rebelling, so there shouldn’t be a problem there."

"No, not there," Snoedaro murmured. "But there is a problem elsewhere. Isn’t there, Stealon?"

Stealon blinked. "There is?"

"Bengali has a right to know," the snow leopard continued, his voice cooling to the temperature of ice. "I’ve been awake for almost an hour, and in talking with your crew, I’ve learned something rather interesting. No one can establish contact with Thundera, and either Cheetara or Leonari is dead."

Bengali almost broke through his restraints as he surged upwards. He was back down instantly as pain erupted in his chest, but the look of shock and surprise never left his face. "What!? What about Cheetara and Leonari? And what about Thundera?"

Snoedaro shrugged and looked at the ocelots with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "That’s what I’d like to know. But answers are hard to come by around here."

"Okay, ocelots," Bengali growled. "We want answers and we want them now."

"Calm down," Stealon tried. "We’d give you the answers, but we don’t have them either. We know Panthro is on Alphon’s ship because we’ve talked with him, but we don’t know which other Thundercat was rescued. And as for Thundera…" Stealon turned toward his second-in-command.

"You did mention a rebellion," Rociyro said quietly. "Perhaps things got a little out of hand. Perhaps the red tigers have been triumphant and that is why there is no communication."

Bengali stared at the ocelot. He turned to Snoedaro who returned his gaze with a hopeless look. "It’s logical," Snoedaro said softly. "If no one’s answering at home, it’s a good guess that Sybar’s taken over Cat’s Lair."

"And if he has, he’ll have put a price on the head of every Thundercat still alive," Bengali concluded. He sighed and shook his head. "The ocelots won’t be the only ones without a home. As the last of the Thundercats, we’ll be right there with them."

"Snarf used to do this."

Mantyro looked up from his chair where he was going over the latest casualty report. "What?"

"Snarf used to do this," Snarfer repeated. "He’d sit by Lion-O’s bedside and talk to him. It didn’t matter what he said. Lion-O always appreciated it."

The red tiger sighed and put his computer printouts down. "Snarfer, you have to stop doing this. You can’t compare yourself with Snarf. It’s not healthy and it’s not doing you any good."

"I know." The little snarf shook his head and choked back a sob. "I know. But knowing doesn’t help. I keep seeing things and hearing things that remind me of…" Snarfer trailed off and buried his face in his arms.

Not prepared for this outburst of emotions, Mantyro was taken aback. He cast about vainly for something to say but was interrupted by a sudden groan.

Snarfer froze and looked toward Lion-O’s bed. The lion groaned again and shuddered. "What’s happening?" Snarfer whimpered.

"Lion-O?" Mantyro moved toward the lion’s side and started shaking him gently. "Lion-O? Can you hear us? Can you give me some kind of signal?"

"Uncle Snarf would know what to do," Snarfer whispered, unaware of what he was saying. "He’d know exactly what to do. He always knew what Lion-O wanted and when he wanted it and why he wanted it and—"

"Quiet!" Mantyro hissed. He turned his attention back to Lion-O. "In the name of all the Ancients, Lion-O, what did Sybar do to you? Come on, fight it!"

"Uncle Snarf would cook something that would bring Lion-O right out of it. Lion-O would smell it, and then he’d—"

"SNARFER!" Mantyro whirled on the snarf, but he instantly regretted it. Snarfer was on the verge of tears again, desperate to help but trapped by his memories of Snarf. "Snarfer, why don’t you go down to the control room," the red tiger suggested gently. "See if Serbino needs any assistance."

Snarfer nodded mutely and left the room with a shuddering sigh. Mantyro watched him go for a moment but then forced himself to focus on Lion-O again. Lion-O was still fighting Sybar, that much was obvious. But what kind of hold did Sybar have on the lion? And could the others help Lion-O fight it?

The red tiger hesitated. If he tried to counter the illusion, he could destroy the lion’s mind and risk transferring Sybar’s hold to himself. But if he did nothing, Lion-O was sure to lose. He’d listened to the others talk about Lion-O’s anointment trials and how he’d beaten Tygra, but Tygra’s mental games were the cheap tricks of an amateur when compared with what Sybar could do. Unlike the other Thundercats, Mantyro knew that beating Tygra did not mean Lion-O was prepared to defeat Sybar as well. Without help, Lion-O was sure to lose.

In fact, the longer this went on, the more dangerous the situation would become. As long as Sybar held Lion-O’s mind, he could use the lion as a spy for the tigers. He couldn’t exactly read Lion-O’s thoughts, but he could get the general idea. That was probably how the red tigers knew about the military strike in the Fire Zone. That was why they put the explosives around the ships when they did. They didn’t know exact times, but they did know that the Thundercats would be leaving soon.

Mantyro rubbed his brow and debated a moment longer before coming to a decision. There were risks in both cases, but Sybar could not be allowed to manipulate the Lord of the Thundercats like he was doing. With a quick grimace, Mantyro took Lion-O’s head in his hands and concentrated.

A minute passed. Another minute passed. The lion and the tiger were frozen in place, barely seeming to breathe. Several more minutes passed. Still, nothing moved. It was as though time had stopped. After a while, the door to Lion-O’s room slid open and Snarfer wandered back in. "Mantyro, Serbino wants to know if you still have the casualty reports." Snarfer stopped and stared. "Mantyro?"

No answer.

Puzzled and alarmed, Snarfer hesitantly approached the tiger. "Mantyro? What are you—"

But Snarfer was cut off as Mantyro suddenly lurched away from Lion-O with a look of horror. He slammed into a wall, clutching his head and growling furiously. Snarfer jumped to his side, but froze again when Lion-O snapped upright in bed, eyes wide and unblinking.

"What’s going on?" Snarfer demanded.

Mantyro could only growl as he sank to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut in pain. Lion-O continued to stare ahead, his breathing coming in rapid gasps. Snarfer looked from the lion to the tiger and then back to the lion. "Are you two okay?" he ventured.

As one, Mantyro and Lion-O screamed. Taking that as a no, Snarfer jumped back and tried to figure out what to do next. But as the screaming continued, the traumatized snarf could come up with only one response.

He screamed back.

"Panthro?"

Panthro grumbled something obscene and turned over on his medical bed.

"Panthro!"

"Glacion, if you wake me up, I will probably do something that could spark the next series of wars between Thundercats and Lunatacs. Think about that before you say anything else."

The Lunatac frowned. "Panthro, I think Cheetara’s waking up."

Panthro jerked upright. "Why didn’t you say so?"

Glacion’s eyes narrowed. "I was trying to, Thundercat! And she’s not waking up immediately, but her brain signals have changed."

Panthro swung out of bed, managed to catch himself before he collapsed on the floor, and gingerly limped over to Cheetara’s side. "What do the readings show? What’s going on?"

The Lunatac shrugged. "You need a doctor to answer that. I’m just a leader. But from what I’ve seen before, I think she’s starting to come around."

Panthro shouldered Glacion aside and seized Cheetara’s limp hand. "Cheetara? Cheetara, can you hear me?"

The cheetah stirred slightly, murmuring words too low to make out.

"You’re right. She is coming around," Panthro said excitedly. "Cheetara? Come on, girl, wake up. You can do it. We’re all waiting on you. You’ve got to get up!"

Cheetara inhaled sharply and tensed. The hand Panthro held transformed itself into a steel vise that clamped onto Panthro’s arm and startled the panther into jumping out of her grasp.

"What’s wrong?" Glacion asked. "What’s going on?"

"Cheetara?" Panthro tried again. "Cheetara, it’s me. It’s Panthro."

The cheetah jerked to one side and groaned. Her eyes fluttered open and her hand shot out, trying desperately to grab something that wasn’t there. "No, come back! Don’t go! Don’t leave! By all Thundera, DON’T LEAVE ME!"

"Cheetara?" Panthro seized the cheetah by the shoulders and tried to shake some sense into her. "Cheetara, what are you doing? Who are you talking to? CHEETARA!"

Cheetara looked at the panther, blinked, and seemed to realize where she was. She clutched at the sides of her bed and breathed a sigh of both relief and anguish. "I’m back," the cheetah whispered. "I found my way back."

Glacion and Panthro exchanged looks. "Cheetara, what exactly do you remember?" the Lunatac asked. "Do you know where you are right now?"

"Reality." She closed her eyes tightly and shuddered. "But I couldn’t bring him with me. I couldn’t bring him back." Cheetara opened her eyes and looked around. "What’s wrong with my leg? How did we escape? Where are we?"

Panthro cleared his throat. "We’re on Alphon’s command ship. Your leg is broken. The wolves had to do some minor surgery, but you should be okay." There was a cough from Glacion’s direction at that, but Panthro ignored the Lunatac. "As for your other question…you don’t remember how you got here?"

"No, I—wait. Yes, I do remember. I was pulled back," the cheetah answered. "After he left, I was alone. And so I searched until I found myself. And then I tried to find him again, but he was…he was so faint. I couldn’t reach him. And he kept getting fainter. So faint. So very faint. I thought he left completely, and then I caught him again. But then…I don’t know. I don’t remember anything else. And now I’m back."

That wasn’t quite the answer Panthro was looking for, but he passed it off as an effect of the drugs that the wolves had given Cheetara. "Who couldn’t you reach?" the panther asked, deciding to humor the cheetah.

"Tygra."

Panthro stared at her for a moment before turning away. The recent death of Leonari still had his emotions in an uproar. The mention of Tygra only made it worse. "Cheetara, Tygra is dead," Panthro said coldly, refusing to face her. "He died when Kentro invaded Third Earth. Pumyra died with him. They’re both gone. Bury the past and forget about it."

"Perhaps I’ll check on Hypnon’s progress at communications," Glacion murmured, backing away from the two Thundercats. They both ignored him as he hastily left the room.

"But Panthro, I just—"

"He’s DEAD! What part of that don’t you understand?!"

"Panthro, how can you say that?" Cheetara demanded. "Did you recover any bodies on Third Earth? Do you have any concrete evidence? Did anyone explicitly say they saw them die?"

"Think about it," Panthro growled, turning back toward the cheetah. "If they’re not dead, then where are they? The Sword should have found them long ago. You should have found them long ago. Someone should have heard something. But no. Nothing. It was like they vanished."

"You can’t prove they’re dead," Cheetara hissed.

"And you can’t prove they’re alive."

"But I can! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I was just speaking with him. He’s terribly hurt and it took me a while to figure out who he was, but I just broke off a psychic connection with Tygra!"

Panthro studied the cheetah a moment before responding. "You’re delirious," he finally pronounced. "You had a dream while you were unconscious, probably because you’re suppressing your emotions about Tygra and Pumyra. You didn’t talk to Tygra. You didn’t connect with Tygra. You had a dream. A blasted dream! Nothing more."

"You’re only saying that because you’re afraid," Cheetara snarled, knowing she should back down but too enraged to stop. "You’re afraid that they’re still alive. You’re afraid of what they’re going through. You’re afraid to believe that they might be alive because you can’t bear to face the facts. You’re just plain scared."

"Very few beings have the gall to call me scared," Panthro growled softly. "Watch your step, cheetah."

"Excuse me?" The Thundercats jumped at the interruption and looked toward the doorway. Alphon cleared his throat and stared at the two cats. "Remind me again who the enemy is."

Panthro rumbled something and glared at Cheetara. The cheetah’s eyes flashed with anger as she returned the look.

"I passed Glacion in the hallway and he mentioned that you, Cheetara, were awake. I thought I’d deliver a message for both of you, but I don’t know if you’re ready for it," the wolf said. "Snoedaro called to say that Bengali—"

"What about Bengali?" Panthro demanded. "Is he alive? Did he make it?"

"Where’s Snoedaro?" Cheetara tried to get out of bed but cried out in pain the moment she shifted her injured leg.

"I am amazed that the Thunderian species still exists," Alphon murmured as he watched Panthro try and ease Cheetara back into a more comfortable position.

"I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, wolf," Panthro growled. "Now what about Bengali?"

"He’s awake and recovering. And Snoedaro reports that…have you brought the cheetah up to speed?"

"No, she just woke up," Panthro answered. "But keep going. She’ll catch on."

"Nice to know you care," Cheetara grumbled.

Alphon raised a bushy brow but continued. "Snoedaro reports that the ocelots have been unable to raise Thundera."

"Ocelots? Thundera?"

Panthro ignored Cheetara. "What about…what about her? Did you tell Snoedaro—"

"I thought you would want to tell him yourself. I have said nothing. Not even the ocelots know what has happened."

The panther nodded. "Thank you, Alphon."

"What’s going on?!" Cheetara demanded.

Panthro looked at Alphon. The wolf held up his hands. "This matter is for your pack, not mine. Don’t look at me."

"Do you really want to know, Cheetara?" the panther asked.

Panthro’s voice sent shivers down the cheetah’s spine. She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. "Tell me, Panthro. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me what’s happened."

"I’m sorry you have to hear this," the panther whispered. "And I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. But here goes."

Lynx-O jerked his head up with a start, his keen ears twitching and his fists balling up. "Do you hear that?" the old Thundercat whispered.

Across sickbay from the lynx, Cougrois studied the old Thundercat and frowned. "Hear what?"

"Screaming. Someone’s screaming."

Cougrois paused to listen, but he could hear nothing. "Where’s it coming from? I still don’t hear it."

"I think it’s coming from Lion-O’s room."

Cougrois’s eyes widened. "Snarfer and Mantyro are both up there. It might be one of them," he gasped. "If a tiger got through and made it to Lion-O’s room—"

"Let’s go, Cougrois!"

The two Thundercats raced out into the hall. Cougrois led the way; Lynx-O followed by listening to his rapid footsteps. Within moments, they’d reached Lion-O’s room and even Cougrois could hear the screams that rang through the closed door. Not knowing what to expect, but ready for the worst, Cougrois expanded his ax and leaped into the room with Lynx-O and his light shield right behind him.

"What the…" Cougrois stared in amazement.

"What is it?" Lynx-O demanded when he heard the cougar stop.

"They’re all screaming," the cougar whispered. "But there’s nothing wrong here. Can you sense the presence of an invisible tiger?"

Lynx-O shook his head. "I can only hear the three of them."

"Snarfer!" Cougrois yelled, trying to make himself heard above the commotion. "Snarfer, what’s going on!"

Snarfer blinked and tore his gaze off Lion-O and Mantyro. "Cougrois? Cougrois, what’s happening?"

"That’s what we’d like to know," the cougar answered, putting a comforting hand on the snarf’s shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"They—they were just screaming. And I couldn’t do anything. And Snarf—he was probably screaming and—"

"It’s okay," Lynx-O consoled. "Cougrois, I will watch Snarfer. See if you can determine the cause of this commotion."

Cougrois nodded and went to Mantyro’s side. "Mantyro? Mantyro, come on. Snap out of it!" The cougar shook his friend, but the red tiger only screamed louder and tried to jerk away. "Mantyro, wake up!" He slapped the tiger hard across the face, but it did no good.

"Try Lion-O," Lynx-O instructed from where he was holding a shivering snarf.

The cougar moved to the Lord of the Thundercats and tried to get his attention. "Lion-O, it’s me. Cougrois. Come on, your eyes are open. You should be able to see me. Lion-O!" Cougrois gave the lion a good shake. "It’s no good, Lynx-O. Neither one is responding. It’s like they’re—"

But before Cougrois could finish his sentence, the screams abruptly stopped. Lion-O fell back on to the bed and Mantyro slumped to the floor. "That was unusual," Lynx-O observed quietly. "I believe something strange has happened."

"But what?" Cougrois murmured. The cougar hesitantly reached out and touched Lion-O’s shoulder, daring to give it a gentle shake. "Lion-O?"

The lion groaned and his eyes opened slowly. "What…what happened? Where am I?"

"Lion-O?" Lynx-O left Snarfer and moved to the lion’s side. "Lion-O, are you awake? How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

With Cougrois’s assistance, Lion-O managed to sit up in bed. He felt completely drained of energy and the world kept spinning around him. "I don’t know," he whispered, trying to make the room hold still. "What’s going on?"

Another groan drew their attention and they watched Mantyro push himself into a sitting position. "Whoa," the tiger hissed. "That was not a good idea."

"What happened?" Lynx-O demanded. "What was all the screaming about?"

"Screaming?" Mantyro cocked his head to the side. "What screaming?"

"You, Lion-O, and Snarfer were all hollering your lungs out. Lynx-O heard you from all the way down in sickbay," Cougrois explained, pulling Lion-O’s left arm over his shoulder and helping the lion to stand.

"I don’t remember that," Lion-O murmured, clutching his head as he tried to steady himself. "But then, I don’t remember much of anything. What happened? Why does my right side hurt so much? Why is it braced? When did—"

"What’s the last thing you remember?" Mantyro asked, catching himself against a wall as he slowly got to his feet.

"I—I don’t know. I think I remember…tigers. Were we fighting the red tigers?"

"That’s progress," Mantyro muttered. "Yes, we were. Do you remember how you hurt yourself?" Lion-O shook his head. "Do you remember anything about Sybar? Panya? Snarf?"

At the mention of Snarf’s name, Snarfer started to sob. "I believe Snarfer and I should go to the control room and aid Serbino and Tahee," Lynx-O suggested. "You and Mantyro can break the news about…" The lynx trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

"New about what?" Lion-O asked.

"Let’s get you down to sickbay," Cougrois said, avoiding the question. "I want to have another look at your ribs and your right arm. Let’s get you down there, too, Mantyro. You look like you’ve just taken on half the mutant force single-handedly."

"Might not be too far from the truth," the tiger murmured under his breath, feeling the beginnings of a large headache.

"What are you hiding?" Lion-O demanded, a soft growl creeping into his voice. "What’s going on?"

"Easy, Lion-O," Mantyro soothed, staggering slightly as he followed Lion-O and Cougrois out the door. "We’ll explain on the way. I just hope you’re up to it."

Pain.

So much pain.

Pain filled every corner of her mind and every fiber of her being. It consumed her soul and devoured her body. It spread is hurtful grasp to every conceivable level and then beyond. Even during her interrogation period, she could not remember this much pain.

The world around her seemed to come into focus, and Chilla realized that her eyes were open. It was the first thought she had about her body that did not include pain. Casting her weary eyes around, the Lunatac tried to figure out what was going on. A cloudy sky met her roving eyes. Outside. She was outside. She was outside the pyramid!

Despite the fiery grip of pain, relief flooded her aching body. She was away from Mumm-Ra. That was all that mattered.

Mumm-Ra’s presence brought back memories too dangerous to remember. When his supernatural fire had enveloped her, she’d thought back to her first encounter with the mummy. When he’d buried them in lava, it had felt the same. But in that case, they’d passed out before pain really took hold. This time, she’d been conscious for the entire thing. And remembering that brought back other memories. She remembered her companions. She remembered Luna and Amok. She could picture TugMug and RedEye again. And as these images came to mind, her interrogation period reared its ugly head. She now associated desperate and haunting torture with each of her former companions. She couldn’t see their faces without feeling the bite of an old wound. Greeb had been too thorough for her to ever remember her past without serious ramifications. The Lunatac squeezed her eyes shut and tried to forget. She knew it was exactly what the slave drivers wanted, but the past was too hurtful to remember. And she’d been a slave too long to fight back.

The low murmur of voices caught Chilla’s attention. She couldn’t turn toward them as she was too weak to move her head, but she could listen. And it didn’t take her long to identify who was coming. Greeb. And other slave drivers with him.

Chilla tried to brace herself. She knew she was about to be moved and she knew that terrific pain awaited her. She also knew that there was no real way for her to prepare against the looming agony, but she had to try.

"They’re useless to us, Greeb. Look at them. There’s no way they can recover."

The slave drivers were now close enough for Chilla to understand what they were saying. And she hoped they were right. She hoped that recovery was not an option. She hoped she would be left out here to die. She would welcome death with open arms.

"We’ll have to let the military doctor look at them," Greeb murmured.

"What? One of us examine one of them? But they’re inferior. Think of the insult—"

"We don’t know if these creatures can be truly broken to slavery. We have to keep them around long enough to find out. There’s a chance that the doctor can save them. I don’t want to go to the trouble of finding another male and female of each species if I don’t have to. Besides, we’re halfway done with two of them. And if they can be broken to the whip, that’s a huge increase to our slave population. We can’t afford to miss it."

"But is it worth it? That’s practically lowering ourselves to their level."

"All six of them are good workers. They’re strong and they’re among the smarter non-humans out there, if non-humans can be associated with intelligence. If we can break them, they would be a great asset. For the good of humanity, we have to try."

Chilla closed her eyes and felt the bitter sting of disappointment worm its way through her heart. She wouldn’t die after all. The military doctor could practically resurrect the dead. He would find a way to save them. And if Greeb ordered the doctor to work on slaves, the doctor would. Greeb wielded a lot of clout at SPT.

Moisture touched her damaged cheeks, and she realized with amazement that there were tears in her eyes. A year ago, she would have never dreamed of crying. Such a thing was beyond her. She would have been mortified beyond belief at the prospect that sometime in the future, she might cry. But now…did it even matter anymore? Did anything matter?

Chilla heard a heavy boot hit the ground behind her and she was roughly turned over. The eruption of pain throughout her body sent her mind spinning and the world blackened. The collar around her neck could keep her from blacking out, but it couldn’t prevent her mind from overloading and shutting down into a coma. Chilla’s consciousness spiraled away into nothingness and the Lunatac was blissfully unaware of reality as her lifeless body was thrown over a shoulder and the hated pyramid left behind.

Snarfer had more or less regained control of his emotions by the time he and Lynx-O reached the control room. Mantyro and Cougrois were helping Lion-O down the hall behind them, but they hadn’t mentioned Snarf yet. Mantyro had done all the talking, and he’d only spoken of the desperate fight against the tigers. Snarfer knew they would speak of Snarf only when they’d gotten out of his hearing. It was a comforting thought at the same time it was insulting. Snarfer was touched by their concern, but he was enraged by the fact that they didn’t think he could control himself.

"But they’re right," he whispered to himself. "I can’t control myself. Every time it comes up, I go to pieces, snarfer, snarfer."

"Snarfer? Who are you speaking to?" Lynx-O asked.

"Nobody," Snarfer mumbled. He watched Mantyro, Cougrois, and Lion-O limp past the control room door and sighed. "I think I’ll check communications," the snarf murmured. "It’ll give me something to do."

Lynx-O nodded his approval. "Keep yourself busy until you’re sure you can think about certain things," the lynx advised. "You must grieve eventually, but you might be able to handle it better if you have time to distance yourself."

"Right," Snarfer whispered. Ignoring the concerned glances of Serbino and Tahee as they ran experiments with the scanners, Snarfer turned to the communication boards.

And froze.

"How long has that been blinking?" he demanded, indicating a flashing light in the corner of one board.

Tahee looked up and shrugged. "As long as I’ve been here."

"What is it, Snarfer?" Lynx-O asked.

"Only the interstellar communications indicator," the snarf growled. "Someone’s trying to contact us and we aren’t responding."

"Oops," Serbino whispered. "That’s probably not a good thing, is it?"

Snarfer didn’t answer. Instead, he typed in a few commands and established a link. "This is Thundera, Cat’s Lair responding. Who’s this?"

There was a pause on the other end, as though the caller had given up on an answer and was now surprised to be hearing one. "Repeat that please."

Snarfer frowned. "This is Cat’s Lair on Thundera. Identify yourselves."

"Everything okay?" Mantyro asked as he poked his head in. Cougrois and Lion-O stood behind him in the doorway, equally curious.

"I don’t know yet," Snarfer replied, looking back at communications. "Someone’s been trying to contact us, snarfer, and this is the first time we’ve had a chance to respond. But now that we’re responding, it’s like—"

"Cat’s Lair, is that you?"

Snoedaro’s voice boomed over communications with an intensity and desperation few had ever heard from the snow leopard. Lynx-O was immediately next to Snarfer. "We’re here, Snoedaro. What’s your situation?"

"Thank Jaga," they heard the leopard breathe. "We feared the worst when you didn’t answer. What happened?"

"Something’s wrong," Cougrois whispered. "Listen to his voice. He’s upset about something."

"Well, we fought back a rather nasty offensive from the tigers and panthers, but other than that…" Lynx-O trailed off and glanced at Snarfer. "We have suffered some losses, as well. Some civilians and—"

"And we’ve been concerned about you since we had no one here to answer communications," Mantyro interrupted with a glance back at Lion-O. The lion still didn’t know what had happened to Snarf, and the tiger wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"So what’s your—"

"Cat’s Lair?! What happened to you? Why haven’t you been answering?" It was Panthro’s voice that overrode Cougrois, and like the snow leopard, the panther was clearly upset.

"It’s a long story," Mantyro replied with another glance at Lion-O. "What’s your situation? What happened at the Fire Zone? Were you successful?"

An awkward pause followed the question, and then Snoedaro spoke up. "I don’t know. Panthro would know more about than I would, and I haven’t been able to get anything out of him."

The Thundercats in the control room exchanged puzzled glances. "Weren’t you all fighting the same battle?" Lion-O asked weakly, trying to establish a presence in the conversation.

"Lion-O? You’re awake?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" the lion demanded.

"Sorry," Panthro apologized. "It’s just that…with everything that’s gone wrong, it’s surprising to hear something that might have turned out okay."

"He’s got broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a fractured arm. I wouldn’t say everything’s okay," Mantyro muttered.

"What’s gone wrong?" Cougrois asked.

"Well, let’s start with what’s gone right," Panthro sighed, wondering how he was going to explain everything that had happened. "The Bi-Dimensional Gun has been destroyed. But the wolves weren’t the ones to destroy it."

"They weren’t?"

"No, they didn’t show up until we’d almost been destroyed. Rataro conveniently forgot to tell the wolves about the battle, and the mutants never arrived at all."

"WHAT?!" Lion-O stumbled away from Cougrois and braced himself against the communications panel. "They did what?"

"Lion-O, calm yourself," Lynx-O urged. "You are not yet recovered."

"We lost over half our forces," Snoedaro whispered. "Bengali just woke up. We weren’t sure if he was going to make it for a while. And…and something happened to Panthro’s team. He, Leonari, Cheetara, Glacion, TugMug, and Hypnon were the ones to blow the gun. They got inside and rigged a delayed fuse. But something happened to his team."

"What?" Lion-O’s face had gone pale, as though he already knew what the news would be.

"I—Lion-O, I don’t know how to tell you this," Panthro stammered. "But…she saved my life. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be here. By Jaga, I wish every second that we could have traded places. But Lion-O…Leonari is…she’s…"

"Dead," Lion-O whispered. His eyes were vacant and Mantyro feared he’d withdrawn back into his mind. "Dead," the lion repeated. "She’s dead."

"Cheetara’s leg was caught beneath a steel beam, and it might be a while before she’s able to walk again," Panthro continued softly. "I can barely walk myself."

"Maybe it’s best we get everything out in the open now," Tahee suggested from behind Mantyro. "Perhaps it is best if Lion-O learns everything that has transpired."

"You want to blow his mind?" the red tiger demanded.

"Tell me, Mantyro," Lion-O said quietly. "Tell me what has happened."

Mantyro looked helplessly at the lion. His eyes were still vacant and he was still withdrawn. But apparently he was coherent enough to understand what was taking place around him. "We’ve had some fatalities of our own," the tiger eventually explained, directing his comments to Panthro and Snoedaro as though it would somehow make it easier for Lion-O to handle. "You can chalk it all up to Sybar and Panya. Servalla is still unconscious and she’s got a severe concussion. Wiley Kat has lost an incredible amount of blood, and we still don’t know if he’ll make it. For a while, Sybar had Lion-O trapped in his own nightmares. And…"

"And?" Lion-O prompted, still staring off into space.

"It’s Snarf. He…he didn’t survive the attack."

Silence filled the control room. Eventually, Panthro roughly cleared his throat over the communications channel. "I’m sorry to hear that," he whispered.

"He saved your life, Lion-O," Mantyro murmured. "He delayed Sybar long enough that we could get to you in time."

Lion-O didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

"I fear we have lost him again," Lynx-O said quietly.

"Not to Sybar," Mantyro said softly. "This time, we’ve lost him to himself. It will be much harder to get him back. Blast it, I knew this would happen!"

"Maybe now’s not the time to say it, but there’s more," Snoedaro broke back in.

"More?"

"The wolves eventually showed up, but even they couldn’t save us. They had additional help."

"Who?" Lynx-O asked.

"The ocelots."

There were a number of reactions to that announcement, ranging from general confusion to deep suspicion. "Ocelots?" Tahee asked. "But I thought they’d been destroyed."

"It would have been better if they had been," Mantyro snarled.

"They saved our lives!" Panthro said sharply.

"But at what cost?" the red tiger demanded. "You can’t trust those vermin. They’re always going behind your back and looking for a way to boost their sorry little skins."

"Whoa," Serbino said, pulling Mantyro away from communications. "I know the red tigers harbor more feelings toward the ocelots than the white tigers, but surely something that happened so long ago can’t affect the present."

"And what do you know of the ocelots?" Mantyro growled. "Your clans don’t even remember them."

"Quiet," Lynx-O ordered sternly. "Snoedaro, Mantyro has a point. Why did the ocelots aid us?"

"Because Kentro destroyed Lotari. They don’t have a home. They want to return to Thundera."

"They left. Why should we let them come back?" Mantyro growled.

"They didn’t leave, you kicked them out," Cougrois said, watching his friend curiously. "And in this war, we’ll need all the help we can get. Let them come back."

"I agree," Lynx-O said, "but it is a decision for Lion-O to make." He looked at the young lord. Lion-O didn’t respond.

"Lion-O isn’t able to make any kind of decision right now," Tahee stated. "The leadership falls to the Thundercat second-in-command."

"That would have been Tygra," Panthro murmured. "But he’s dead. And I don’t think we really had a succession line after that. We never expected to lose both Lion-O and Tygra."

"If we follow historical precedent, I believe it should fall to the Thundercat council vote, then," Serbino recalled. Tahee nodded.

"Well, all the Thundercats who can vote are probably listening," Snoedaro said. "Bengali’s asleep again, so he doesn’t count. And he’d vote in favor of allowing the ocelots back on Thundera. We’ve already discussed this as length. What about Cheetara?"

"She’ll vote the same way," Panthro answered. "My vote is also the same. In fact, are there any dissenting votes?"

"Yes," Mantyro growled. "Mine."

"Noted," Panthro said. "Any others?" There was no response. "It’s settled then," the panther announced. "The ocelots are welcomed back on Thundera. We’ll work out specifics later."

"If you want to escalate the conflict with the red tigers, this is the perfect way to do it," Mantyro warned.

"Perhaps," Lynx-O said. "But even now, we are still obliged to uphold the Code of Thundera. Justice, truth, honor, and loyalty compel us to welcome back our countrymen."

"You maybe. But don’t expect a welcome from me," Mantyro snapped as he left the room.

Huddled beneath a nest of blankets, Wiley Kit’s mind reached out across time and space. In her sleep, she moaned and turned. Her dreams were vague and uncertain, as though fears beyond her subconscious were begging to be turned loose.

Someone seemed to be watching her, but Kit couldn’t pull herself together. She had no training as a psychic, and though she was part tiger, her mind was too undisciplined to even begin the mental exercises necessary for contact with other minds.

Kit?

The person was now calling to her. Why couldn’t they leave her alone? She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know how to answer.

Kit? Focus yourself, Wiley Kit. That’s what Cheetara says she does. Mantyro and Tygra, too.

Focus? Yes, she remembered Cheetara talking about that. You had to find your center, and Kit understood that concept, at least. Every good warrior did. Concentrating, the young Thundercat attempted to pull her mind into a ball, keeping everything she’d ever learned within arms reach. It was like a void in thought. You placed yourself in it, and drew everything in after you. It was all there, and all completely ready for battle. Achieving this mindset, Kit turned her attention outwards again and was surprised when she recognized the voice that had been calling her.

Wiley Kat? What are you doing? And how are you doing it?

I don’t know, Kit. I—I just found myself here. Don’t ask me how because I don’t know.

What happened to you? I thought…I thought that earlier…did I heard you cry out?

Kit sensed a solemn nod. You did. Sybar tried to invade New Thundera City, and we tried to stop him. I don’t know if we succeeded. I think…Wiley Kit, I think I’m hurt. Not just a little hurt. Hurt in a dangerous way.

Kit’s first impulse was to laugh. Her brother liked to exaggerate situations, and she assumed this was just one of them. But there was something about the way he phrased it that stopped her. What do you mean? What do you mean by "hurt"?

Panya had a knife at my throat. Mantyro, Lynx-O, and Snarfer couldn’t get to me in time. And then Cougrois lunged at Sybar from behind and Sybar ordered Panya to kill me. Something happened after that, and I think I remember Mantyro talking to me. He told me to stay for you. Maybe that’s why I’m here now. Maybe I’m here to say goodbye.

"Wiley Kit?" A voice from the outside world broke in, disrupting the flimsy connection that bound the siblings. Kit felt herself drifting away, losing contact with her brother. "Wiley Kit, wake up!"

Kit? Where are you going?

I think someone’s calling me. I can’t stay here. Kat, promise me you’ll be okay!

I can’t. I can’t make a promise that I might not be able to keep.

"Wiley Kit! Speak to me." The outer voice was back again and more insistent. It was difficult to ignore. "Come on, wake up. You’re scaring me, Kit."

I can’t stay here much longer, Wiley Kat. Where are you? Maybe…

Kit, you’re light years away from me. There’s no way you can find me.

But if you’re hurt—

Listen to me, Wiley Kit. I will always be with you. No matter what happens, you can count on me to be by your side every hour of every day. I’ll never leave you alone.

The outside world was pulling at Wiley Kit even harder now, and she felt herself slipping away from her brother. There were so many things she wanted to ask him and so many things she wanted to say, but there wasn’t time. There would never be enough time.

I love you, Kat!

I love you, Kit. Goodbye…

Kit’s eyes shot open as her brother completely faded away. She was met by an anxious Lepora who’d apparently been shaking her. "Wiley Kit? Are you…"

"I’m awake," Kit whispered. She shuddered as the last of Kat’s presence vanished from her awareness. "Lepora…it was Kat again."

"What happened?" the leopard asked.

"He…he says he’s hurt." Kit’s eyes brimmed with tears and she cursed herself quietly. She hadn’t cried since Thundera’s destruction. Lepora’s arm wrapped itself around Kit’s shoulders and Kit found herself leaning on the leopard. "Lepora, what if…what if he leaves? What if he’s not there for me anymore?"

"Easy," Lepora whispered, rocking her friend gently. "It was a dream. Space sickness again. That’s all."

"Space sickness," Wiley Kit murmured, but the truth would not be discarded so easily. Kat had spoken to her. She knew it. And she’s spoken to him in return. He’d said things that had frightened her. Things no loving brother would say in jest.

"Wiley Kat," she moaned, wondering how he’d found her and how she could call him back to her mind. But there was no answer to her plea, and Kit was only aware of her small quarters and Lepora’s concerned but silent presence. Wiley Kat was gone.