Panthro’s brow furrowed in concentration and despite the relative cool of the forward cabin, sweat began to bead. Beside him in the Feliner, Cougrois manipulated the scanners and developed a 3-dimensional model of the communications probe. Both were completely silent, so engrossed in their appointed tasks that all else was tuned out. Kat’s appearance behind the two Thundercats went unnoticed, and Kat took a seat and watched in amusement. "You know, if you bother to look up, you might notice that we’re about to drift into an asteroid."

Both Panthro and Cougrois jumped at the sound of his voice. Cougrois was the first to grin and gave Kat a good-natured slap. "It’s not our fault you’re the lazy one on board. Where have you been the last hour?"

"Rigging the onboard computers to decipher Control code," Kat answered. "How much longer are you guys going to take? And we are about to drift into an asteroid, so someone might want to change our course."

"I know where we are, cub," Panthro grumbled with a hint of a smile. "If I adjust our course now, we’ll have to start all over. We’ll have that probe on board before we hit the asteroid, don’t worry."

Kat shrugged. "I’m not the one piloting, so I figured it was out of my jurisdiction. I’m just here to analyze data. It won’t be me who gets blamed for totaling yet another Feliner."

Panthro growled threateningly. "I believe you were the one who was supposed to have been on sensors when we ran into the Lunatacs a few weeks ago."

"They were in hyperspace," Kat protested. "The new sensor technology and programming for the interface aren’t done yet. How was I supposed to know there were Lunatacs coming?"

"Finished," Cougrois reported. "Ready to snag this puppy?"

"All ready over here. Kat, go watch the power consumption on the tractor beam. As long as you’re here, you might as well be useful."

Kat tried to look wounded. "Aren’t I always useful?"

Panthro snorted, but kept his eyes focused on the tractor beam controls. "Okay, now hold her steady. Steady…steady…okay, got it! Reeling it into the airlock. Reduce the power to the tractor fields, Kat. There she goes."

Cougrois smiled and rolled his eyes as Panthro continued to coax the communication probe into the Feliner’s cargo hold. Communication probes were unusually fragile, meant to transmit signals in areas of electromagnetic interference and useful for almost nothing else. A simple tractor beam was capable of tearing one apart. "Done yet?"

"Just about," Panthro muttered. "Restoring gravity to the cargo bay. Setting it down. There. Shutting doors and pressurizing." Panthro finally leaned back and looked over at Kat. "She’s all yours, kid."

"Then let’s head for Thundera. I want to talk to Lion-O in person and soon," Kat responded. "If anything happens, I’ll be in the cargo hold. I’m going to start trying to decode the transmission."

"We’ll let you know if we hear anything about Kit," Cougrois promised. The last few check-ins with Thundera had not been reassuring. Initially, Lion-O had been evasive. Then he finally revealed that all communication had been lost with Wiley Kit and Lepora. And now there were these crazy rumors of an alliance with the Lunatacs, but Snarf had been very unclear concerning those points. Cougrois shook his head. He wanted to talk with Lion-O, too.

"Okay, let’s move out of this asteroid’s way and go home," Panthro said. "Power up the engines, Cougrois. I’m plotting our course."

"Mega-condensor online and ready to merge with hyperspace," the cougar reported.

"Good. Then let’s—argh!" Panthro’s order was cut off as he and Cougrois were suddenly thrown forward. The Feliner rocked and groaned while alarms blared to life all over the ship.

Wiley Kat tumbled into the forward compartment and grabbed hold of the back chair. "What in Thundera is going on?!"

"Six heavy cruisers just dropped out of hyperspace," Cougrois growled as he righted himself and started to power up the weapons.

"Blast it. They’re from Kentro by the looks," Panthro hissed. The schematics of the attacking ships raced across his boards and the panther’s frown deepened. "Call Thundera, Kat. I don’t think we’re going to make it back."

"Not if I can help it," Cougrois snapped as he began to fire. His aim was perfect, but the laser blasts from the Feliner’s cannons did little damage against the shielding and thick armor of the cruisers now surrounding them. The Feliner was just not meant for that kind of battle.

"Panthro, they just dropped a load of static buoys." Kat’s voice was calm with only a slight tremble to indicate his fear and anxiety. "There’s no way I can get through. I think this might have been a trap."

"Doesn’t matter if it was or wasn’t," Panthro replied, trying to hold the shaking Feliner together as additional shots took out the main engines. Electricity arced up from the controls and the panther was forced back. "We’re stuck with this situation whether we like it or not," he finished, glaring at the panels before him.

An explosion from the weapon panel knocked Cougrois out of his seat and into the back with Panthro and Wiley Kat. "Sorry," the cougar coughed, as he tried to get to his feet. "I couldn’t hold them off."

"Take it easy," Panthro instructed, pushing Cougrois back to the floor. The cougar was badly burned, but if something didn’t change soon, that would be the least of his problems. "You did your best."

"Panthro! Look!"

"What is it, Kat?" The panther was trying to get a better look at Cougrois’s forearms, though he was tempted to stand and face his death as Wiley Kat was doing.

"By Jaga," Kat breathed. "Why?"

That caught the attention of Panthro’s curiosity, and he glanced out the forward windows. What he saw froze him. Feeling the panther stiffen beside him, Cougrois managed to lift his head. He also froze. "Those are wolf pirates," he whispered.

"And they’re destroying the Kentro ships," Panthro murmured. He watched in amazement as streamlined, maneuverable fighters wove their way around the heavy cruisers, inflicting heavy damage with their ion cannons. Coming in behind the fighters was the firepower of the pirate fleet. Bulky transports armed with neutron guns began to hammer away at the cruisers. A blinding flash filled the Feliner’s cabin as two Kentro ships exploded in a blaze of light.

With the destruction of their comrades, the four remaining Kentro ships began an organized retreat. But the wolves were merciless in their pursuit, and the retreat quickly became a rout. Through it all, three Thundercats watched in astonishment, not knowing what to make of this most recent turn of events. When communications indicated the lead ship was hailing them, it took Wiley Kat a minute to force himself out of shock and answer. "Feliner here," he responded automatically, not knowing what else to say.

"I am Alphon, leader of the mutant wolves," a feral voice announced. "Our scanners indicate your ship is crippled. Will you be able to endure the rigors of a hyperspace tow back to Thundera?"

At the sound of the wolf’s raspy voice, Panthro seemed to shake himself out of his reverie and return to his senses. Gently shouldering Kat aside, the panther took charge of the situation. "What does that matter to you?"

"We are offering to take you home," Alphon snarled.

To Panthro’s mind, the wolf sounded angry but resigned to his task. Something unusual was going on. "And why are you offering to do this for us?" the panther asked.

"You will learn that upon your return to Thundera. Now answer my original question. Are you capable of a hyperspace tow or will we need to transport you to one of our ships and destroy your Feliner?"

Panthro bristled at thought of destroying the Feliner. "We can handle a tow," he answered with a growl.

The Feliner suddenly shuddered, but stabilized before any of the Thundercats could react. "Disengage your maneuvering thrusters," Alphon instructed. "They are draining our tractor beams."

Panthro scowled, but at the moment they had no choice. They were weaponless and without hyper-drive. He nodded to Kat, who cut off power to the sub-light engines. "Now what?" Panthro asked.

"I suggest you commence repairs on your ship so that it may be ready to battle when we return to Thundera," Alphon snapped. "This is not a skirmish but a war, Thundercat. And your species is ill prepared."

Lion-O wondered if the council room of the Cat’s Lair had ever witnessed such an unusual and forced gathering. Snoedaro and Cheetara stood near the door, watching all in the room suspiciously. TugMug muttered to himself as he leaned against a wall. RedEye stood by the windows and watched the sky with an intensity that gave Lion-O chills. Glacion sat silent at the council table, keeping his eyes fixed on the dark wood. Rataro sat across from the Lunatac and kept his eyes on Lion-O, who stood at the head of the table. Cobri, a snake reptilian and Rataro’s second-in-command, stood uneasily behind the rat, his tail flicking from side to side and the skin of his cobra hood flaring slightly. Lion-O realized that he himself was pacing and forced himself to relax. The meeting would start soon. Snarfer and Lynx-O had called down to say that the Feliner had arrived with a portion of the wolf pack and the ships were initiating a landing sequence.

A small commotion in the hallway caught everyone’s attention and Snoedaro opened the conference room doors. With undisguised contempt and haughty pride, a mutant wolf, still in his flight suit, stalked into the room. Dismissing all others as unimportant, the wolf eyed Lion-O, Glacion, and Rataro with a baleful glance. Lion-O inwardly sighed. This was going to be a long meeting.

"Now that we’re all here, I’d like to begin," he started.

"And who gave you control of this council?" Alphon demanded.

"It is held in his hall," Rataro responded smoothly. "It is fitting that he should begin the discussion."

"So it has come to this," the wolf muttered. "We must unite with the weaker species to preserve our own."

"As near as I can tell, you and your wolves are in this of your own accord. You are more than welcome to leave," Glacion said softly.

Alphon grumbled something, but didn’t deign to reply. Lion-O readied himself and then spoke again. "I’m not sure where to start, but I guess we should start with what we know. The Thundercats know very little about the Kentro Empire, having only learned of their existence about a week ago." The lion looked expectantly at Glacion who obediently took the cue.

"The Lunatacs have known of them for over a month, but we have been in direct conflict for only a few weeks. Our sphere of influence is limited to the moons." The ice Lunatac looked over at Rataro and Alphon who were now seated side by side.

"About three months," Rataro answered. "Like the Lunatacs, it took a while for battle to commence. We have fought them for two months now."

"We learned of this empire two months ago and began to fight immediately," Alphon reluctantly added.

"Well, that’s something to go on," Lion-O said. "Now let’s talk about the current situation. I still don’t understand the need for an alliance. Maybe you would care to explain that to me."

"You don’t understand the foe you face," Rataro hissed, an eerie light coming into his eyes. "They are capable of atrocities you can’t even begin to imagine. Worse than the destruction of Pride. Far worse than the devastation on Third Earth. You have already lost two Thundercats. Are you willing to risk losing more?"

"They aren’t lost," Lion-O growled.

"You will find their bodies mangled and desecrated," Alphon said mercilessly. "You will probably find them in multiple pieces. Know that they will have died in excruciating pain. How many of your subjects do you wish to undergo such heinous deaths?"

Lion-O could hear Cheetara snarling by the door and knew the conversation had to shift quickly. "So the mutants are unable to defeat this enemy alone?"

That won him a pair of evil looks from Rataro and Alphon, but Glacion picked up the conversation before they could reply. "We Lunatacs have been monitoring your communications," he announced. "We know how the battles have been going. That is why I first approached you about the possibilities of an alliance."

Lion-O swung on the Lunatac. "This was your idea?!"

"It was my idea to bring you and Rataro together. I thought I would have to convince you to initiate the talks. I had no idea that Rataro would respond first," Glacion answered.

"None of this really matters," Rataro cut in. "What concerns me is the actual alliance. Do we agree to unite our forces in facing this empire?"

Lion-O glanced at Cheetara and Snoedaro who still stood by the door. Cheetara’s mouth was drawn into a thin line, but she nodded ever so slightly. Snoedaro bobbed his head once, though his face was grim. Lion-O turned his attention to Glacion who was watching the lion intently. "It is your decision," the ice Lunatac said quietly. "The Lunatac Imperial will unite with the mutants in this. It is my wish that the Thundercats join us, but the decision is yours to make."

"I know that. The Thundercats will always abide by our own decisions," Lion-O replied testily. "But with limited information, we must go on the words of others." After a moment of hesitation, Lion-O nodded. "We will join this alliance."

With that announcement, the tension in the room seemed to ease, though it didn’t go down by much. Officially, they were now all on the same side. Realistically, there were many questions yet to be answered. Cobri, who had been silent up until that point, now chose to speak. "Jusssst how will we use our new alliesssss, Rataro?"

"It is partially up to them," the rat replied. He looked at Lion-O and Glacion. "We now come to difficult issues. How will you contribute to the war?"

"We need to know more of the enemy’s movements," Lion-O said, finally coming to something he could handle. He was no stranger to battle tactics, and the deployment of troops came naturally to him.

"The wolves can provide us with all the pertinent details," Rataro announced, looking expectantly at Alphon. The wolf returned his stare with a glare of his own, but began to speak.

"Our scouts have been cataloguing their movements as far as our sensors permit it," he growled. "The Kentro Empire is located somewhere beyond the Nebula Zone. Before their existence was confirmed, some of our raiding parties heard rumors of the empire from frightened refugees seeking safety in this sector. As far as we have been able to gather, the empire is undefeated in its conquest of the galaxy. It would appear their eye is now trained upon us." Alphon paused and glanced around the room disdainfully. "Do you have an interactive holo-projector I might utilize?"

Lion-O nodded. "Of course." The lion depressed a button hidden on the underside of the table and an imager rose from the center as part of the wood slid away into previously unseen seems in the paneling. Before Alphon, a control pad rose from a hidden compartment in the table. A similar pad rose in front of Lion-O and he quickly downloaded a well-mapped star chart. "Will this suffice?" he asked innocently.

Alphon appeared impressed and when he spoke, some of his cockiness had disappeared. "It will be adequate. Now then. Here is what we know so far."

Like thousands of stinging needles, light stabbed into Pumyra’s eyes. Shielding against the opening door, the puma rose to her feet with a snarl and backed up slightly. If only her eyes would adjust quickly, they might have another chance at escape. But Tygra was having similar problems as she felt him brush up against her. And then the guards were upon them with a seemingly impossible speed. They learn quickly, Pumyra mused to herself. Both arms were tightly gripped by different soldiers, and she could feel the barrel of a laser rifle prodding into her back. Judging from the sounds, Tygra was undergoing similar treatment. Still partially blinded, Pumyra was thrust into the hallway and the journey began.

Once out of their dark cell, the puma’s eyes began adjusting rapidly. It wasn’t long before she could make out the twisting corridors again and the menacing faces of the surrounding guards. They were not a happy contingent of soldiers, that much was certain. She started craning her neck, trying to find out if Tygra was still with her. For her efforts, she received a clout alongside the head.

"Just march, slave. If your feeble mind needs to know something, we’ll tell you."

Sullen and angry, Pumyra choked back a growl and tried to calm herself down. Uncontrolled emotions would get her nothing. She started to watch her surroundings and soon recognized the same corridors she and Tygra had run through earlier. Before long, they passed the hanger deck. She received a small amount of satisfaction as the guards tightened their grips on her. At least she and Tygra had rattled them a bit.

When the guards stopped, Pumyra looked up and saw they were standing before the same door they’d come to last time. Only last time, they’d managed to escape. Would they escape this time? The puma managed to sneak a glance over her shoulder, but her hopes were dashed. Tygra was still with her, but there were twice as many guards as before. Tygra caught her quick look and shook his head solemnly. Whatever happened, they would have to bide their time. They would have to wait. Again.

It was at this point that Pumyra realized just how long and how often she’d been waiting during her life. On Third Earth, she’d been continually waiting for word from Thundera, for a shift rotation, for a covert note from Bengali, for a quiet talk with Cougrois during his night watch, for an alarm from Control, and for a chance to be useful. For six years, she’d been waiting. And before joining the Thundercats, on the island with Lynx-O and Bengali, she’d been waiting. She’d been waiting for some sign of her countrymen or for some sign of rescue. Before even meeting Bengali and Lynx-O, she’d been waiting. She’d been waiting for a chance to help her father in the mutant wars or a chance to help her mother regain the use of her legs. And now she was still waiting for a chance that might never come. Pumyra was thoroughly sick of waiting, and if something didn’t happen soon, she knew her impatience would take over.

In front of her, the heavy blast door slid open reluctantly and the guards began marching through in an orderly fashion. Pumyra resisted for a bit, letting the guards know she was not happy with the situation, but eventually walked forward slowly at the insistence of the laser rifle behind her. Fixing her face into a careful mask of calm scorn, she entered the room before her.

The first thing Pumyra noticed was that it was white. Not only was it white but it was a glaring and disorienting white. At least, most of the room was white. Glancing down, the puma quickly discovered a part of the room that was not white. While the walls and ceiling screamed with whitewash, the floor was splattered with reddish splotches. It didn’t take long for Pumyra to identify the stains as blood. She felt her stomach churn and quickly averted her gaze.

Pumyra heard a small gasp behind her and knew Tygra had come to the same realization. Swallowing a foul taste that had suddenly arisen in her mouth, Pumyra allowed herself to be marched to the center of the room. Tygra was placed beside her, and then, much to her surprise, they were both released. The soldiers stepped back and took up a position in front of the room’s only exit. Pumyra and Tygra exchanged grim looks, wondering what was coming next.

It didn’t take long before the heavy blast door slid open with a groan and two men entered. One was the scientist in the lab coat. Tygra stiffened and Pumyra could feel her own fists clenching and unclenching. The second man was more interesting, though. His piercing blue eyes were hard as steel, and his narrow face with its high cheekbones gave him a gaunt look. Black hair was plastered to his head and revealed a high forehead with more than its fair share of lines and creases. His shaven face emphasized his thin body and he looked over the two Thundercats as though inspecting the latest trend in furniture. The green military attire he wore was clean and pressed. Pumyra noted how the other soldiers snapped to attention when his gaze happened to stray in their direction. Here was a man in charge. Tygra nudged her and nodded toward this new man. He had reached the same conclusion.

"They will suit my needs," the new man suddenly spoke. He walked around the captives as though deciding whether or not to purchase a new spaceship. "Yes, they will do when they are trained. Insert the chips and send for Greeb."

The scientist nodded obediently and left the room. The military man remained and continued to study the captives with a detached interest. "Well, now that you are here, is there anything I can do for you? Perhaps I can answer some questions."

Pumyra shuffled back slightly, indicating she was deferring the entire conversation to Tygra. He had far more experience with this sort of thing than she did. Though he rarely spoke of it, sometimes during the lonely years of outpost duty on Third Earth, he had shared stories of the mutant wars and his early years as a Thundercat. Once or twice, Tygra had mentioned that he and Panthro had been prisoners for a few months aboard a Plun-Darr cruiser. In light of this, Pumyra felt Tygra should take the lead in this new conversation.

Tygra felt the puma shift backwards and knew the responsibility of talking their way out had fallen to him. Collecting his thoughts, the tiger began to speak. "You’re right. We would like a few questions answered," he said coldly, keeping his voice low, calm, and dangerous. First impressions were everything in this game. "Who are you, where are we, why are we here, and what right do you have to detain us like this?"

"You certainly have a lot of questions," the man laughed. Walking away on his spindle legs, he paused before answering. "The first question is easiest. I am General Jordash, leader of the armies of the Kentro Empire. Currently, we are on our way to Kentro and we are somewhere beyond what you refer to as the Nebula Zone. I don’t believe I can give you a better description, as few of your star charts map the sectors through which we now travel. You are here because you are prisoners of war, and the rules of war are what give us the right to detain you."

Tygra stared at the man in disbelief. "Prisoners of war? What war?"

"Ah, so you don’t know. That would explain your misconduct. I wondered if our attack on your planet was premature. So your superiors had not yet relayed the news?"

"Something this important should have been transmitted to us immediately, but our communication signals were blocked by static buoys. Your static buoys," Tygra accused.

"Hmm. Well, no matter. I will explain things as they currently stand, and with that, we will solve any little misunderstandings you might have." The man drew himself up as though about to recite prose. Tygra made a bet with himself that he was about to get some form of memorized propaganda. He was not disappointed. "Our empire is destined to reach to the furthest stars, bringing with us our values and our knowledge of the universe," General Jordash announced. "The lesser species must succumb, submit, or be vanquished. Their ignorance is counter-productive to our greater calling. For we are indeed called, my new slaves. We are called to rule the known galaxies and to take our influence as far as our calling permits. You are but a few in our many conquests. Perhaps that gives you a little more grasp of current circumstances."

"Clear as mud," Tygra growled, keeping his eyes trained on this General Jordash.

The general sighed. "I did not expect you to understand, but for the good of humanity, I was compelled to try." He looked toward the door as it opened again. The scientist came through, pushing a large metal box on wheels. Behind him, a large, heavily muscled man sauntered in casually, with a haughty glance at the prisoners and a respectful nod to the general. "This is Greeb," General Jordash told the Thundercats. "You would do well to listen to him. And Greeb? Be fair. Scouting reports tell us there are no slaves on their planets. This will all be very new to them."

Greeb laughed and cracked his large knuckles. The bright lights on the ceiling glared off his bald skull, and his beady black eyes took on a look of cunning and malice. "Your command binds me, general," he said. "I will endeavor to be fair."

"Good." The general gave the two uneasy Thundercats a farewell glance and exited the room.

At a signal from Greeb, the guards came forward and seized Pumyra and Tygra. They were forced onto their knees and their faces thrust toward the floor. "Any sign of resistance will be met with punishment," Greeb warned. Tygra’s ears caught the sound of the metal crate opening and then a whining sound filled the air. To Pumyra’s ears, it was something of a mystery, but Tygra recognized it instantly. He’d heard that noise many times. It was the sound of a large bullwhip being limbered after a long time in storage. This was not going to be pleasant.

The man in the lab coat was now doing something to the collar around Tygra’s neck. After a few moments, the tiger felt a painful jolt course down his back and into his extremities. It was so sudden that he couldn’t hold back a grunt of surprise at the pain, but it was quickly gone. The man moved to work on Pumyra, and Tygra found himself pitched forward onto his face. The soldiers who’d been holding him backed away as the tiger struggled to his feet with a dangerous gleam in his weary eyes. He heard Pumyra’s breath catch in her throat and turned to her. The man in the lab coat was moving away and the guards thrust the puma forward as they’d done to Tygra. Greeb gave a curse nod and the scientist plus all the guards exited the room, leaving the Thundercats alone with Greeb.

Tygra moved to Pumyra’s side and helped her up. "You okay?" he murmured.

Pumyra nodded. "I think so. What now?"

"I guess we ask him."

The crack of a whip startled the Thundercats into silence. "First warning," Greeb grumbled. "You do not talk in the presence of superiors without consent. I will now address the female slave. What is your name, your rank, and your species’ method of identification?"

Pumyra looked at Tygra who shrugged and shot the man a venomous glare. The puma looked back at the large man and swallowed. "My name is Pumyra, I—aaaaahhhhh"

Pumyra pitched forward onto her stomach and arched backward in uncontrollable convulsions. At the same time, Tygra hit the floor on his knees, groaning and clutching the back of his neck while pain racked its way through his stomach and chest. It passed quickly, but the memory was enough to keep the tiger on all fours, breathing heavily. He looked over at Pumyra who had rolled into a pitiful ball by this time but was no longer convulsing. Looking over at the man, the tiger was met with a smile and a quiet chuckle. "What did you do?" Tygra demanded between desperate gulps of air.

"I did nothing. It was the actions of your friend that wounded you. Come. What is your name?"

"And why should I tell you?"

Greeb’s smiling mouth was drawn into a thin line. "I warn you. Do not try my patience, slave. You do not speak so to your superiors. When they ask, you respond. What is your name? Or your friend may suffer." The man flicked his large whip in Pumyra’s direction.

"Tygra," the tiger growled, but no sooner had he said his name than he was seized by the same convulsions that had possessed Pumyra. Agony exploded in the back of his head and every nerve felt as though it were on fire. He lost all sense of where he was or what was going on as he tried to find refuge from the pain. Gradually, it faded away and he was aware that someone was shaking his shoulder.

"Get up," Pumyra whispered hoarsely. "We can’t show weakness. Get up, Tygra."

At the mention of his name, pain enveloped the tiger for a second time. Pumyra released him as she, too, felt pain grip the muscles in her stomach and chest. Her heart pounded frantically against the increasing pressure of her pectorals and her arms jerked and quivered in agonizing spasms.

Through all this, Greeb watched patiently. Finally gaining control over her wobbly limbs, Pumyra turned a fierce glare on him, but he only laughed. "Come on, slave," he said to Tygra. "Back on your feet."

Tygra shakily pushed himself to a sitting position and clutched his aching head. "What happened?" he croaked.

A sharp hiss was the only warning Tygra had before the bullwhip tore into his back, ripping through sensitive flesh and tearing away part of his Thundercat uniform. Overcome with rage, Pumyra launched herself at the man only to have the whip scorch its way across her stomach and knock her off her feet. She fell backwards with a sharp cry and Tygra recovered just in time to grab her before her head hit the floor.

"You do not ask questions of your superiors unless consent has been given," Greeb told them. "You had already been warned. Punishment was my only recourse. Now on your feet, slaves."

Pumyra tried to obey, but straightening out involved moving her stomach. Tygra swore softly as he saw the ripped and bleeding skin where the whip had left its mark. "Come on," he whispered to the puma, careful not to use her name. That’s what seemed to be triggering the pain. "I’ll help." His own back was throbbing, but Tygra knew what a whiplash felt like in different areas and he knew that Pumyra was in much greater pain than he was.

With soft moans, the puma managed to get to her feet with Tygra’s aid. Together, clutching one another for support, they turned to face their oppressor.

"Touching," he sneered. "Now let’s see if we can correct some behavioral problems before we go further. You never look into a superior’s eyes. You are not worthy of that." He watched them expectantly, but nothing happened. "Did you hear me?" He raised the whip slightly.

Tygra’s pride was churning, but he and Pumyra weren’t in the physical condition necessary to withstand a serious whip lashing. He cast his eyes down and nudged Pumyra. With a grumble of protest, she followed his example.

"Much better. I see possibilities for the two of you. Let’s learn another rule. Answer this question. What is your name?"

Seething with anger and fury, Tygra looked up at the man and once again locked eyes. "I give up. What is the answer?"

Greeb’s eyes narrowed and the whip lashed out again. But this time, Tygra was ready for it. With the practiced judgement of one who has handled a whip for years, the tiger timed the landing of the whip, estimated the snapback, and then swept his arm out into the path of the cord. The end of the whip wrapped itself around his forearm and he yanked backwards. Taken by surprise, the handle went flying out of Greeb’s hands and Tygra easily caught it. "Looks like the rules have changed," Tygra observed dryly, though he was still inwardly raging. He heard Pumyra chuckle lightly behind him where she was now standing on her own.

"You have made a serious mistake, slave," Greeb roared. His black eyes blazed and Tygra found himself taking an involuntary step backwards. "RESTRAIN!"

It happened so quickly that both Pumyra and Tygra had to reconstruct it afterwards. All they knew at the time was that the pain of a thousand fires rushed throughout their bodies and the next coherent thought was brought by the pain of the whip as it lashed at them. Again and again, Tygra felt it tear through the skin of his back. Greeb seemed to change positions and he felt the whip scoring his side and chest. But he was powerless to stop it. Whatever had happened had left him weaker than a kitten with a totality not even Thundranium could rival. Pumyra groaned beside him and the whip flashed her direction. Tygra snarled a warning before he could stop himself and found the whip consequently ripping across his neck.

And then it stopped. It all stopped. The room was silent except for groans and choking cries. Tygra tried to bring his dazed mind into focus, but the pain throughout his body was making it impossible to concentrate on anything. He couldn’t even tell who was moaning in pain. He didn’t know if it was himself, Pumyra, or both. Probably both, but he was too hurt to care.

Then much to his dismay, his mind cleared and he became aware of every aching wound and every throbbing muscle. He was lying on his side in a fetal position. Something sticky was trickling into his eyes. He moved to wipe his face and felt his arm explode in pain. Somehow, he managed to rub his eyes only to discover he was rubbing away his own blood. He raised his pounding head and tried to find Pumyra. The puma was groaning slightly and lying with her back to him only a few feet away. He gasped as he saw the bloody slashes of the whip crisscrossing her back.

"Had enough, slaves?"

Tygra squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed the urge to tear out the man’s throat. Hatred would accomplish nothing. He had to remain calm. They could still get out of this. They just had to wait for the right time.

The whip snapped through the air in warning. "I asked you a question. When a superior speaks to you, you will respond."

"What do you want?" Tygra hissed out. Pumyra slowly pushed her torso off the deck and shook her head gently.

"The answer to a question. Who are you? What is your name?"

Pumyra looked in Tygra’s direction and her eyes widened in horror as she saw the damage the whip had done. Tygra returned the look grimly and then turned his head toward Greeb, though he kept his eyes down. "I don’t know what you want to hear," he finally said.

"Now we’re getting somewhere." After a minute, Greeb’s booted feet appeared in front of Tygra. Seizing Tygra by his ripped and tattered shirt collar, the man hauled him upwards and propped him against the wall. "Stay on your feet, slave," he warned. Greeb turned away and repeated the procedure with Pumyra. "You, too," he added. Backing away, he surveyed the Thundercats with a malicious grin. "Messy, aren’t you? Well, let’s see if we can teach you some things that will reduce the mess. How do you answer the question of who you are? This is what you say: you are nothing, you are slaves, and you live only to serve your master." He studied the prisoners for a moment longer and then nodded, turning his face to Pumyra. "Who are you?"

Pumyra shuddered and started to slide back down the wall, but she managed to lock her knees and stay upright. "I am…" she trailed off and shook her head. "I am…a Thundercat."

The word sent both felines to their knees as additional pain shot through their abdomens. "Wrong answer," Greeb chuckled. He seized Pumyra by the back of her neck and threw her across the room. The puma made no move to resist, too weakened already to protect herself. "How about you?" the man asked, turning to Tygra. "Who are you?"

Tygra was struggling to keep himself off the bloody floor and realized it was going to be a futile battle before long. "You obviously know. Why do you keep asking?"

"Again, wrong answer. RESTRAIN!"

It was worse this time. Much worse. Tygra was certain his heart was going to burst as it hammered wildly against his chest while his entire body screamed in fiery agony. His vision swam in a sea of black and red, and in some detached way, he knew he was screaming. Somewhere far away, Pumyra was also screaming, though her scarred throat muffled the sound.

Eventually, the pain died away and Tygra was left with its memory as well as the wounds from the whip. He felt a rough hand on the back of his neck and he was thrown next to Pumyra. She was whimpering and her eyes were closed tightly, as though trying to escape the horror in sleep. "It would seem this training period can produce nothing else. You will be allowed a short sleep and then we will resume. Good night, slaves. Pleasant dreams."

From a distance, Tygra and Pumyra were aware of a door opening. There seemed to be a sound of guards and instructions being passed along. Pumyra opened her eyes and looked at Tygra sorrowfully. "What do they want?" she whispered.

"I don’t know," Tygra moaned. By the Ancients, he hurt! He couldn’t remember being in so much pain his entire life.

"Something’s wrong. We should be unconscious."

"What’s that?"

Pumyra stirred and immediately regretted it. Wincing and gritting her teeth, she continued to speak. "We should be unconscious. The mind has blocks against pain. Too much pain and we should black out. But we haven’t. Not only have we reached our pain limit, we’ve exceeded it. I sensed unconsciousness. It was coming. And then…it was as if something pushed it back. My mind was stimulated. Everything cleared and it felt like it was coming from the collar. Did you feel it?"

"I was trying not to," Tygra confessed with a groan

"They’ve bypassed our pain centers," Pumyra mused. She was trying to control herself but muffled sobs kept cropping up in her throat. She couldn’t afford to show weakness. And that’s why I’m lying on the floor and probably bleeding to death, she thought wryly, allowing a bit of humor into the situation. "Why do I feel like this ordeal has only begun?"

"Remind me how we got into this," the tiger murmured painfully.

At this point, the sound of boots tromping in their direction put an end to conversation. There were soft laughs, a few scornful remarks, and then Tygra found himself being dragged across the floor to the wall. He tried to keep his mouth shut, but it was impossible in his condition and he found himself groaning in agony as his wounds scraped along the deck. Pumyra was dragged next to him and then two long electrical cords were produced. Hooking one end to the collar around Pumyra’s neck, a soldier pushed the other one into some kind of outlet in the wall. Pumyra stiffened and then collapsed. Tygra stared in horror until he realized they were doing the same thing to him. But he couldn’t resist. He had no strength left and every movement screamed pain. Well, if they were going to kill him, they might as well get it over with. As the soldier finished connecting the prisoner, Tygra felt a tingling surge of power in his neck, and then his mind shut down.

The images of Tygra and Pumyra faded away from the steaming cauldron and a deep blackness settled over all. "It’s almost too good to be true," a soft, feminine voice whispered. "I’ve waited so long for this, and now that it’s happening, I can’t believe it."

"It has only begun." A different voice, a voice laden with the evil of the ages, now spoke. "From here, we shall envelop all of creation. And all of creation shall bow to me."

"Don’t forget that you owe me for your new-found power," the soft voice warned. "Creation shall bow to me as well."

"I owe you nothing," the evil voice thundered. "I have more than repaid my debt by turning these hapless humans toward Thundera and guaranteeing your species a way out of servitude. You are here only as a figurehead for the humans. Don’t press your luck any further."

"But—"

"But nothing." Lightning was beginning to crackle in the darkness and the air was heavy with latent power. "Do you dare to anger me? Very few have been that foolish, and even fewer have lived to tell of my wrath."

"My most sincere apologies, master," the soft voice quickly whispered. "You have certainly repaid your debt and then some. It is I who owe you."

The spreading darkness seemed to halt and retreat. "That’s better," the evil voice cackled. "I shall rest now. You may keep watch if you so wish."

The sounds of retreating robes filled the dark pyramid. If she concentrated, she could almost see her dark master as he made his way toward his resting place. His steps were slow and steady, supremely confident, he paused to bend and pet a sleeping dog, and he finally relaxed into the dark recesses of his crypt. It was not long before the aura of power begin to die away, sleeping as its master slept.

Turning back to the bubbling cauldron, the soft voice commanded it to call forth the images of Tygra and Pumyra yet again. "You may sleep," she whispered to the shadows around her. "You may all sleep, but it will only delay the inevitable." She did not speak solely to the tiger and puma.

"How is he?"

Servalla looked up in surprise. She hadn’t heard Mantyro enter sickbay and his appearance has almost disrupted an important medical experiment. "Weren’t you ever taught to knock before entering?" she asked irritably.

"I guess that means he’s okay," the tiger laughed. He stepped in and his contagious smile quickly infected Servalla.

"Yes, he’s going to be fine. If you want to stick around, he should be waking up within the hour." She looked at the sleeping form of Bengali with a sigh of frustration. "I had to sedate him, because he wanted to attend that conference that’s going on upstairs." The serval stopped and eyed the red tiger. "Why aren’t you at the conference?"

"Actually, I’m supposed to be gone already. But I had to see how he was doing. So much is happening so quickly, that I just had to stop in."

"Where are you going?"

Mantyro sighed. "Lion-O asked me to investigate the situation with the tiger clans. Sybar is now trying to win over the cougars and pumas. Both clans are professing allegiance to the Lord of the Thundercats, but who knows how long that will last. Especially if word gets out that we had to be saved twice by the mutants." The tiger shivered. "Panthro was still ranting about that when I left him in the control room."

"I don’t doubt it. When the doors opened on our group cell and Jackalman walked in followed by a contingent of mutant troops, I didn’t know whether to faint or laugh. But it’s a good thing that the mutants boarded our transport, or the humans would have surely killed us all before we could have acted."

"That still amazes me," Mantyro murmured. "This empire must really be dangerous for the mutants to be siding with us. And to have the wolves involved, too…" He trailed off and looked at the serval. "How’s your arm?"

"Couldn’t be better," Servalla replied. "So you’re going alone into tiger territory?"

"No, Snarfer’s coming as backup."

"Snarfer?"

"Lion-O’s idea. And in some ways, it makes sense. Snarfer can hide in places I’d never dream of hiding. And my illusions and invisibility won’t be very effective against other red tigers. We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way."

"Wait a minute. When we were training on Third Earth, Tygra routinely fooled you by turning invisible."

"Tygra is an exception to the rule. For some reason, all his mental powers are concentrated in his ability to mask himself. That’s why creating illusions is so draining for him. He could easily fool an entire army of red tigers with invisibility, but his illusions don’t stand a chance. I’m almost the opposite, except that my illusions aren’t as strong as they should be. That’s something I need to work on."

"I see," the healer said, although she really didn’t. The cheetahs’ capacity for a sixth sense and the tigers’ mental powers were far beyond her comprehension. "So when are you leaving?"

"Now. Snarfer is waiting on a Thunderclaw. We’re going to see if we can find the white tigers and then from there we’re going to find the red tigers."

"And what happens when you find them?"

Mantyro shrugged. "I don’t know. It depends on the situation, I guess. One of my objectives is to find Chinga, my sister. No one’s heard from her in a while, and I’m worried."

"Well, be careful. The way things are going, we can’t afford to lose more Thundercats."

"Tygra and Pumyra aren’t gone. Not yet," Mantyro said, more to himself than to Servalla. "We’ll find them. Those two didn’t train us to become Thundercats just to abandon the team now."

"I hope you’re right, Mantyro. I hope you’re right. But I’ve been a healer for most of my life and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t stop death. You can try and avoid, you can try and delay it, but ultimately, death will always win."

"And what’s that supposed to mean?" Mantyro demanded, the fur along his neck starting to rise. "They’re still alive. Lion-O checks the Sword at least once a day, and Cheetara goes into trances and searches for Tygra."

"I know," Servalla quickly soothed. "I know all that. But with all that help, there’s still no sign of them. Maybe time will tell. Maybe not." She checked a few diagnostic screens around Bengali’s bed. "At least this guy’s going to stick around. I wasn’t sure when I first saw him. Leonari and Wiley Kit both need to learn some practical first aid for the battlefield."

"I don’t think they had much time," Mantyro chided gently. He looked at Bengali and then shook his head. "I’d better be going. When he wakes, could you tell him what happened on Third Earth? I had hoped to, but I need to leave. And Panthro, Kat, and Cougrois are occupied with other things."

"I’ll tell him," Servalla promised.

"He needs to know about Pumyra," Mantyro continued, not really hearing the healer. "I know he’s worried about her. But there’s not much to tell him, I guess. I don’t know."

"I’ll tell him," Servalla repeated, putting her good hand on Mantyro’s shoulder. "I’ll tell him all we know about Pumyra and everything the mutants know about this enemy’s treatment of prisoners. I’m not as dense as you might think, Mantyro. I know there was something happening between this tiger and that puma."

A noise from the doorway to sickbay caught their attention and Snarfer stuck his head in. "Ready to go? The Thunderclaw is warmed up and waiting, yep, snarfer."

"Coming," Mantyro answered. He turned back to Servalla briefly. "Thank you. This will mean a lot to him. And right now, he’s the closest thing to kin that I have left. He’s like a brother."

"You tigers stick together, don’t you?"

"We try."

Snarfer’s tail impatiently thumped the door. "We’re wasting Thundrillium," he huffed.

"I know, Snarfer. Thanks, Servalla." And with that, the red tiger followed Snarfer’s bouncing form out the door.

Very few marked the departure of the Thunderclaw from Cat’s Lair, as it happened at nightfall. Lion-O had specifically requested this, hoping that news of Mantyro’s mission could remain secret for as long as possible. Common knowledge of civil strife on Thundera was not in the Thundercats’ best interest at the time. But had Mantyro’s departure been noted, the observers might have wondered briefly. The red tiger guided the Claw skillfully through the dark night, a small snarf held on to his seat tightly behind him, but another figure was tailing them from a spaceboard, not quite as skillful but managing to stay behind the Thunderclaw and out of sight. And neither tiger nor snarf seemed to be aware of him.