Given the nature of this story, I thought a few words of introduction were in order.

As everybody is well aware, we've been doing comedic stories in this club from the very beginning, exclusively. I've been toying with the idea of a dramatic action story for a while, and a good inspiration finally struck me. Not to say there won’t be humor here, but it won’t be my typical riff at all.

Second, the disclaimer: at no time in this story do any of the events reflect a personal grudge or anger on my part! Some really rough stuff is gonna happen here, people are going to be hurt and killed, and I don't want anybody to think I'm ticked at them. The nature of this story demands some bloodshed, as you’ll see shortly.

Third, just to clear the air, this story was brewing in my mind long before our recent wave of quittings, and was neither inspired nor influenced by them.

That said, enjoy!

The Revolt

Prologue

The air blew damp and cool around Lion-O's mane, stirring it, making it feel as though insects were crawling on his scalp. The environment was incongruous to that outside; hot desert under blazing sun. But the being dwelling here was never known for consistency of behavior.

"What are we going to do?" Cheetara asked beside him. The young Lord of the Thundercats turned his gaze on her, drank in the ethereal beauty of her body, the intensity of her crimson gaze boring into his eyes. He thought of what had been done to her, to them all. And the young lion knew he'd batter down the gates of hell to end it for her.

Without a word he faced forward again and walked down the corridor, his stride full of a confidence he did not feel. She followed close behind.

The light from the entrance dimmed rapidly as they proceeded, obscuring details in the bas-relief images lining the walls. Lion-O fought down a sense of claustrophobia as the darkness pressed in on him, forcing his mind to remain focused on the immediate task rather than the ultimate threat that lay ahead.

The darkness grew impenetrable, but after a few more steps a faint glow arose before them. The effect was eerie, a sense of departing one world, the natural world of Third Earth, and entering another, unnatural realm. A realm where dead things clung to hideous life and toyed with those whose blood still flowed warm in their veins.

Then the two Thundercats entered into a large chamber of black stone. Four pillars stood here, dark gods of the ancient past, their sightless eyes brooding on cherished elder sins and atrocities. The scrying pool centered among them flowed and seethed with thick, viscous liquids that steamed with a stench of death, the only source of heat here.

But Lion-O and Cheetara paid no heed to these chilling relics of evil. Instead their eyes were focused on the small, almost insignicant stone sarcophagus on the raised dias before them. Resting upright inside the distorted mouth of a demonic visage, the gray coffin housed the master of this place, a being whose very existance was a dark miracle of blackest sorcery.

With a scrape of stone on stone, the lid began to move. Instinctively the two Thundercats fell back a step, their hands going to their weapons but not drawing. They had, after all, been invited here.

Within the sarcophagus was a willow-thin figure, masked from view by a red cowl draped over it's emaciated shoulders. The figure shivered imperceptibly, and then the cowl rose, revealing a blue-gray skull, still covered in tatters of leather flesh. Sharp carnivore's teeth leered out of the sepulcheral face as it turned left and right, as though taking in it's surroundings through the empty sockets.

Then those sockets began to glow with a ghastly red light, beginning as pinpricks, then growing to form orbs that flowed and swirled like blood from a mortal wound. The creature advanced from it's tomb with a rustle of it's cowl, it's withered feet and exposed bone scrape-clicking lightly with each step. It appeared frail, a thing of smoke and fever dream that a stout clean wind would blow back into the antiquity it belonged to.

Lion-O knew better, knew from harsh experience that those frail-seeming arms could crush bone and rend flesh with the ease of a man dismembering a cooked chicken.

"Welcome, Lion-O," Mumm-Ra the Everliving intoned. Lion-O saw the fleshless jaws click like a child's toy puppet, but the words came from the air around the creature, not from it's mouth.

Repressing a shudder of revulsion, he replied, "You have what you promised?"

If Mumm-Ra was offended by the abruptness of the Thundercat, he never let on to the fact. Instead, the cadaver opened his cloak to reveal a cloth sack clutched in it's hand. With a simple gesture, Mumm-Ra sent the bag hurtling through the air and into Lion-O's arms.

Lion-O passed the package to Cheetara, and they began to back away, maintaining a watchful eye on Mumm-Ra. But the mummy made no move to follow or interrupt them.

Suddenly Lion-O stopped. He stood regarding his enemy, this foe he'd battled for what seemed like his entire life. At last he spoke.

"You have never beaten us," Lion-O said. "Only because of him have you ever been able to injure or kill any of our number. Why are you betraying him?"

Beside him, Cheetara hissed as though scalded, but Lion-O ignored her, instead watching the deathly figure on the dias, waiting.

"Because," Mumm-Ra began, "It was no elixer of mine which melted Lynx-O in your bed. Nor was it my spell which slew Snarfer in his workshop. Nor were any of the rest."

"I have been a tool in his hand, the instrument of his fantasies," Mumm-Ra began. "I was pleased to see my dreams made real, but I have come to see that they were never my dreams. They were always his."

"When they are gone, if our world returns to it's original ordering, then perhaps I may never defeat you. But the losses will be mine."

"Mine ALONE!!!"

********

A short time later, the Thundertank pulled into the garage bay of Cat's Lair. Cheetara and Lion-O sprang from the vehicle and ran for the door. They hesitated at each corner, glancing around them carefully, knowing that if they were intercepted now there would be hell to pay.

They arrived at the concealed stairway the led to Tygra's secret lab, buried beneath the basement of the Lair. They closed the door behind them and sighed softly. This one area, crafted in the utmost secrecy, was the only place on Third Earth even relatively safe. As they went swiftly down, Lion-O heard again in his mind the words Lynx-O had said when they'd first discussed the possibility of rebellion.

"When the gods walk the earth," the old Thundercat had said, "The only hope for mortals is to remain unnoticed."

The stairs ended in an archway. The Pride of Lion Clan and the Forerunner of Cheetah Clan passed through this to meet with the First Illusionist of Tiger Clan.

"Here it is," Cheetara said, putting the bag on the table.

"I don't understand how it's supposed to help us," Lion-O muttered. "It has to be decayed beyond use by now. Wouldn't the hard drive have been better?"

Tygra left off his work and went to the table. He spoke as he began to open the bag. "The hard drive housed the creature's personality file as an animate program," he explained. "But without a body, the creature couldn't do anything. Therefore, it stands to reason that the mechanism for ordering reality is not psychic, but physical in nature. As for decay, we can only hope that Mumm-Ra was able to preserve it as he said."

The bag fell open, and on the table sat the large severed head of a green, dog-like creature, it's hard black eyes glazed with the sheen of death.

********

The Revolt

Chapter One

It was mid-day, and the sun shone down on the grassy knoll just north of Cat's Lair. Of all the regions near their home, this was one of the Thundertwins' favorites, a place where young minds could unwind, their concerns and chores reduced to distant memories of another, less pleasant world. They were stretched out full length on the ground beside each other, watching the fluffy pink clouds sail by.

"Sometimes I wish we were like the clouds," Wilykit said. "So high and big that nobody could touch us."

Kat frowned at his sister's remark. "Naw, they'd still come after us. Nothing's out of their reach."

Just then, the woods at the southern end of the hillock trembled. There was a sound of impact, a sort of thud, and then Kit and Kat were scrambling out of the way as a massive green dog-like thing crashed to the turf where they had been, tearing up the sod and grass as it hit, then as it scrambled to it's feet.

"Fianna!" Wilykat shouted as he turned to find the living missle standing up shakily and raising his balled green fists in a defensive posture.

Then he heard a scream from his right. He looked and saw a tan figure charge out of the woods with lightning speed. It was Thunderwolf, looking neither left nor right, his eyes locked firmly on his caninoid foe. He never even glanced down as Wilykit, only waist tall to the immense sabrelion, went down beneath his charge. Her brief scream ended as the lion's foot came down on her neck, all three-hundred pounds of him behind it.

Then the lion was on top of Fianna, and the two renewed their bizzare competition by pounding each other relentlessly. Red and green blood flew as flesh tore beneath blows that could have shattered concrete. Fianna had the edge in size, but Thunderwolf was the superior fighter, more experienced, and in seconds the dog was being driven backwards into the trees at the southern end of the clearing.

Wilykat stared after them numbly until the thunder of footsteps was gone. Then he went to his sister, who lay unmoving on the grass. Her neck was canted unnaturally, her eyes wide open in a final expression of terror.

Without a sound, Wilykat bent over and picked her up, slinging her body across his shoulders. He turned towards the Lair, and began walking. As he went, replays of other, similiar scenes flashed through his mind: Lion-O pounding on a grave in anguish, Kit vanishing beneath the surface of the river forever, Kit as an undead monster gurgling behind a mad human, even as that same man had fired a bullet into his own brain.

When he'd been younger, he'd thought this was a wonderful arrangement. After all, nobody would ever die. He'd said so to Tygra, but had not understood the Thundercat's strange reply until years later.

"In life you die once. In Hell, you die over and over and over again."

********

At that moment, Tygra was in his hidden lab, working feverishly on his computers. Electrodes extended away to the lifeless severed head of the gods’ greatest foe, trying to pry it's secrets from the gray tissues within, preserved by Mumm-Ra's uncanny art.

A figure appeared in the archway, and Tygra's heart lurched in a moment of sheer terror. Then he saw who it was, and even his irritation melted away.

"Pumie," he sighed. "Don't you ever knock?"

"Knock, knock," the Puma Clan female replied with a grin, rapping her knuckles on the empty air of the archway. "Why didn't you put up a door?"

"If we're found out, a door won't matter anyway," he said, bending to his work once more.

Pumyra crossed the floor and pulled the tiger away from the console. She pushed his chair back and straddled his legs, facing him.

He pulled her into his arms and they kissed deeply and passionately. After a moment, she pulled away and ran her fingers through his mane playfully.

"How do you keep this place secret from Thundera Tiger?" she asked.

"If she were to ask me directly, I'd be forced to tell her, but really, I doubt she's even interested in me anymore. It's just a game, something to fight over with Rivero."

"She uses you," Pumyra said, a snarl in her voice. "They use us all. But you belong to me, and I'm not going to let her have you!"

The puma seized the tiger, pulled him from the chair and they made love on the floor of the lab. When it was finished, the two lying in a knot of intertewined limbs, panting and spent, Tygra felt at peace for the first time in weeks.

Then he heard a soft ping from the computer and shuddered. The two uncoupled and Tygra, heedless of his dishevelment, got to his feet and went to the console. He reached for the key that would display the findings, then hesitated, his hand trembling. Then he stabbed the button and began to read.

********

The Thundertank rumbled into the clearing where Wilykit had died just hours before. Panthro climbed out, sparing a glance at the torn earth where the gods had battled, killing a bystander without so much as noticing it.

Wilykit was no longer dead. For efficiency’s sake, the gods had decreed long ago that those slain would spontaneously ressurect in the course of an hour or two. But the memory remained, and Kit had screamed for twenty minutes. Not at having been slain. At having awakened again in Hell.

Panthro set off towards the woods, to where trees were broken and blood still stained the earth. As he approached, another figure appeared, staggering out of the fastness and into the clearing. It was Fianna, exhausted and dazed, the waistband of his underwear pulled up so that it stuck out above his trousers.

"Ho!" Panthro called. "What happened to you?"

"Thunderwolf decided to get payback for those wedgies," the dog replied morosely. "I have to hand it to him, he can fight. I just don't have his level of skill."

Panthro laughed and said, "Finish getting yourself together and I'll show you a few tricks."

Fianna grinned and a few moments later asked, "What first?"

"Take a stance Thunderwolf uses," Panthro said. The dog complied, then Panthro said, "Try to follow along, because I'm going to be going pretty fast."

The panther edged in, then fired a kick towards Fianna's leading knee. The dog, unprepared for the ferocity of the blow, yelped in pain as the joint gave way with a pop, dropping him to the ground. Then Panthro's powerful arms snaked around his neck. The Thundercat’s shoulders twisted violently, and there was a loud cracking sound.

********

The meeting hall of Cat's Lair was filled to capacity with people Lion-O had never imagined he'd see there. The Mutants were grouped by the southern wall, watching the other suspiciously, while a contingent of Warrior Maidens led by Willa kept a wary eye on them. The Lunataks were there, their manner reserved. And at the back, towering over them all, mighty Mumm-Ra himself, his warrior mode sending steady waves of menace into the young Thundercat Lord's mind.

All of the Thundercats were here. All but one.

The door opened with a hiss. Eveyone jumped in suprise at the sound, some half-raising their weapons in reactive fear. Panthro came into the room. He walked to the round table at it's center as the rest of them parted to make a path for him. At the table, Lion-O and Tygra looked up at their strongest warrior, hope in their eyes. Panthro made a gesture, and an object landed on the table top.

It was Fianna's palmtop computer.

********

The Revolt

Chapter 2

In the Warrior Maidens' village, Sher Kahn lounged in his hut, absently gnawing on the roasted carcass of a deer the amazons had brought to him. His thoughts were as languid as his body, the tiger in repose, enjoying an offering from those he protected.

The door to the hut opened, and Willa stepped inside, three warriors entering as well. They went to the table, pulled out chairs and sat, watching the tiger. Kahn paused in chewing, looking back at them. He didn't mind being watched, but they had never watched before. It was out of character, and out of character behavior made the suspicious-minded tiger wary.

"You need something?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Are you enjoying your meal?" Willa asked.

"I was just finishing it,," Kahn said suspiciously. "You need this many warriors to ask me if I like your cooking?"

"Not at all," Willa replied. "These women are not warriors. They are craftswomen. They work with pelts."

Every alarm in Kahn's psyche began to clang. The siberian sprang to his feet, but was instantly overcome by a crippling wave of vertigo. He stumbled a moment, then collapsed, but his head continued to spin sickeningly.

"...poison..." he said weakly.

"Of course. Arrows would have damaged your hide," Willa said. Then she got on her knees and gripped the helpless tiger's beard, pulling his face near hers. "Tonight, I will sleep warm and happy wrapped in your hide, devil," she snarled.

Kahn was still alive when they began working on him.

*******

Ayanna was at the edge of the maiden's clearing when she noticed an aroma hanging in the air, the hearty smell of roasting meat. Automatically the cheetah's mouth began to water, and she set off with renewed speed towards the stairways that gave access to the platforms above.

As she neared the steps, she caught sight of a pile of cooked meat lying on the ground. Curious, she went to it and sniffed it. It smelled heavenly, and she was tempted to take a mouthful when she noticed an ant nest nearby. She examined the meat for bugs, and found none. In fact, the ants were going around the meal.

Ayanna looked at this in amazement, and as she considered what it might mean, something fell over the side of the platform overhead, almost hitting her. Blood spattered the cheetah, making her grimace in disgust. Then she turned her attention to what had fallen.

It was customary for the maidens to toss the refuse of a kill to the ground below the village, where scavenging animals always made short work of it. She studied the collection of bones and entrails until she realized with a lurch that the skull rolling to a stop beside the pile of waste was a tiger's head.

An arrow thudded into the ground inches to her right, another directly in front of her. Ayanna sprang back with a terrified shriek and bolted to the woods, zigging and zagging frantically as more arrows ranged in around her.

When she reached the safety of the forest she hesitated, looking back towards the village. There she saw Willa, surrounded by her warriors, fist raised high in a cry of victory.

There was something different about the warrior queen, and it took Ayanna several seconds to realize what it was. She had a tigerskin cloak draped over her shoulders.

"Oh my god," Ayanna gasped, as she suddenly guessed why the ants, those veterans of chemical warfare, had refused the discarded meal. Disgust and horror warred with a powerful wave of grief; there was only one tiger who routinely stayed at the Maidens' village.

But shock can also bring an astonishing clarity of thought. Ayanna was suddenly aware that she had to get to Thundera Tiger right away. She knew just where the Team Tiger general would be, and it wasn't far.

********

"There you are," Tygra purred. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, love," Thundera Tiger replied as she strolled into the dining hall of Cat's Lair. "Where is everyone?"

"They've all gone off on missions, errands, etcetera, etcetera," Tygra replied off-handedly. "I don't mind. It'll give us some time alone."

Thundera Tiger grinned at him, then said, "What's that wonderful smell?"

"Venison," Tygra said, going to the table and removing the silver domed lid from a large platter to reveal steaming pieces of seasoned meat. "An old recipe the warrior maidens use. I'm sure you'll enjoy it."

Tygra served her, as he always did, stripping the meat from the bones, then setting those aside for later. He set a platter full of delicious morsels on the floor before her, then sat down and watched her.

She lowered her huge head to take a bite, then paused. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.

"I ate with the other Thudercats," he replied. "I made this just for you."

"You're so sweet," TT said affectionately, then leaned over the plate and opened her mouth wide.

********

Ayanna tore out of the woods at the edge of Cat's Lair and kept going straight for the open garage door. With nimble cheetah reflexes she raced through the bay and charged recklessly into the Thundercats' home.

Too winded to yell, she kept going in hoped of bumping into somebody, then a smell reached her nostrils from the open doo ahead and froze her heart in her chest. She bolted into the room at full speed, saw Tygra, saw Tiger, saw Tiger's plate-

"NNNNOOOOO!!!!" Ayanna shrieked as she crashed into table, tiger and platter, upending everything. Despite her mass, TT was thrown backwards by the force of the collision, landing flat on her back, while the table pitched over onto Tygra.

TT sat up, looked at her ruined meal, then looked at her newest recruit and snarled. "You'd better have one hell of an explanation Spotface, or I'm liable to turn cannibal."

Ayanna wrestled free of the tablecloth, her mouth buzzing out of control. "Don't eat it, Tiger, it's poison! I smelled it at the village! They got Kahn! They-"

Ayanna's excited rattle was broken off as a flexible blue cord looped over her neck. Then the cheetah was plucked from the floor and lashed against the wall with terrible force. When the filament released her, she dropped ten feet to the floor and lay there unmoving.

Thundera Tiger gaped in horror at the fallen cat, then at the warrior who'd struck her down. Tygra met her shocked gaze with one of cool calculation as he recoiled his whip.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this, TT," he said. "You were just supposed to go to sleep, and when you awoke you'd be back in Mundania permanently." Behind him a door opened, and Snarf came into the room. The rodent glared at TT, then brandished a ten-inch kitchen knife, cutting the air with stacatto barks of "Snarf! Snarf!"

"Cut the cheetah's throat before she wakes up, Snarf. I'll take care of this one," Tygra said, his voice smooth as powdered arsenic.

Thundera Tiger knew something was deeply wrong. She kept trying to will this nightmare scene away, to change it into something else, but Tygra's icy glare never wavered as he raised his whip to strike. Then the lash was whistling towards her and Thundera Tiger the Mundanian was subsumed by Thundera Tiger the tigress. She leapt backwards as the bolo club head of the weapon snapped past her nose, then raced to her left, putting the table betweem them.

"Why?!" she screamed to Tygra. "Why are you doing this?!"

"Kentro," he said. "Mannin. And damn near everything Rivero has ever put on a word processor."

"But you came through Kentro!" she snapped. "And 'Elf' wasn't my story! Why are you trying to hurt me?!"

In response, Tygra vanished into thin air.

"Shit!" Tiger cursed, eyes wide, trying to listen for the faint footstep that might indicate an attack. Her nostrils flared as she struggled to scent Tygra before he closed in on her. Every second, the muscles of her back ached with the anticipation of a killing blow.

Then a hideous scream filled the air, drowned an instant later by wet gurgling.

"AYANNA!!!" Tiger screamed, and instantly she felt the bolo whip snap around her neck and lash tight. A heavy weight landed on her back, and she knew Tygra was astride her, pulling at his improvised garrot for all he was worth.

Thundera Tiger reared up, trying to dislodge the Thundercat. She pitched and kicked like a stallion in a rodeo, but to no avail. In seconds the struggle had spent her reserves of oxygen and even standing was an effort. Her legs began to wobble, even as the burning in her lungs for air became unspeakable.

Then a meteor flew from over the table and slammed into Tygra. The noose around Tiger's neck went slack as her rider was stricken from her back and sent rolling. She lurched feebly towards the corner of the room even as she gagged and choked air into her starved lungs. She had no way of knowing how long her reprieve would last.

When she reached the corner, she could see around the table to where Ayanna had landed. But instead of the cheetah lying there, Snarf was, his throat and belly ripped open, his innards strewn for several feet in each direction. She turned to find the cheetah herself backing warily towards her.

"He rolled clear and went invisible," Ayanna said, her normally hyper-cheerful voice now edgy and tinged with deparation. "We have to get out of here."

"Stay close...to me," Tiger wheezed. "We'll cover each other's backs. He can't attack either of us without giving up his location."

"Okay," Ayanna said, but her tone conveyed her doubts. Together the felines padded slowly towards the door, heads turning at every whisper of sound that reached them, knowing that this was all the warning they would have from a foe as swift, elusive and silent as the wind.

TBC

********

The Revolt

Chapter Three

Peachyra fled through the woods, gasping and stumbling as she tripped over tree roots, fallen limbs and other woodland obstacles. Sharp, thorny limbs tore at her face, drawing tears of blood from her skin to match the tears of horror and fear running from her eyes.

She strode over a fallen log and on the other side her foot found a divot. With a brief shriek Peachyra fell forward, tearing up the musty soil of the woods with the bare skin of her palms. Scraped and further bloodied, she scrambled back to her feet and continued, driven onward by an unholy sight burned into her mind’s eye forever.

*******

It was a lazy sort of day, the kind best spent watching the flowers grow. So that was what she did, setting off from her private house in the Wollo village early in the morning. Peachyra was a farmer in Mundania, and the love of nature ran deep within her, so periodically she would pass the day on nature walks.

She’d taken her usual route, spending the morning meandering through the manicured parks of the Wollos, admiring the collage of color and rich foliage the sheep-kin produced. Coming from herbivore stock, the Wollos had a touch for designing lovely arrangements, although their habit of fertilizing the beds with their own dung had disconcerted her in the beginning.

By afternoon she’d left the village completely, moving into the surrounding forest towards a thicket she knew where some of the most ethereal, delicate, bell-shaped flowers she’d ever seen were found. She followed the overgrown path, taking great pains to do minimal damage to the trees and shrubs she passed, and soon arrived at her precious glade.

Peachyra sighed as she came in sight of it, and soon was sitting among patches of transclucent bluebell petals, clear and glass and impossibly delicate. The scent of the flowers was midway between jasmine and lilac, with just a hint of eucalyptus. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the tender blossoms work their magic on her senses.

“Peachy, there you are!”

“Oh god,” Peachyra muttered, then said cheerily, “Watch where you step Kamanchee, these are very fragile.”

“What, these things?” the Adam Ant lookalike asked. He reached down and tore up a handful of blossoms, stuck his face among them and inhaled noisily. “Smells like a koala shit a bar of soap,” he commented with a grimace.

“You have such a way with words, Kam,” she said drily. “What are you doing out here?”

“I saw you pass this direction, thought I’d offer you a sample of my newest pastry. Being a farm lass, I rather thought you’d appreciate the kind,” he said, and offered her a small package wrapped in cellophane.

She took it warily; Kam cake was known throughout TCATGR for being only slightly less addictive than Silky fruit. But when she unwrapped it, a heavenly scent of spices wafted to her, driving her flowers, her reservations, and her distate for Kamanchee right out of her mind.

“Carrot cake,” Kam said proudly, sitting beside her. “No addictive properties, I swear. At least, no more than Mundane carrot cake, which by itself is quite addictive.”

She took half the muffin in a single bite and rolled her eyes in relish. “Are these raisins?” she asked, indicating some molassess-like specks in the middle.

“Cockroaches. My kitchen’s infested with them, can’t keep them out of anything,” Kam said soberly. Peachyra stared at him until the Brit suddenly broke into snorting giggles. She slugged his arm, then continued enjoying the pastry.

“I like the new look,” Kamanchee said.

“Oh, did it take hold?” Peachyra said. “When I left this morning, I was still Mary Ann, but Fianna promised he’d correct that before he left to find Thunderwolf.”

Kam snickered. “When are you going to learn, nobody is safe from that nincompoop, not even his friends?”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously.

“Well, he did stay in the farmer motiff, but I hope you liked, ‘Beverly Hillbillies’,” he said, then broke into gales of hysterical laughter.

The muffin was dropped, forgotten as Peachyra scrambled for the compact she kept in her pocket. When she flipped it open and looked into the mirror, the face that looked back was Ellie May Clampett.

“One thing before you go find Fianna and skin him,” Kam chortled as she gaped at the reflection. “Let me hear you say, ‘see-mint pond’!” Then he laughed so hard he fell over and began to roll on the ground.

“Kam, be quiet,” Peachyra said, frowning.

“No, no, ‘seee mint pond‘. Say it with me-”

“Dammit Kam, shut up a minnit!“ she snapped. The Brit complied by stifling his giggles behind his hand.

“Did you hear that?” Peachyra asked. This got his attention, and he became still, listening carefully.

Kam frowned. “I’d have sworn that was Spark’s-”, then he was interrupted by a faint, but clear, scream. Kam and Peachyra leapt to their feet and raced towards the noise, plowing into the brush on the southern side of the clearing, spurred on by still another piercing shriek.

They ran through the forest, and now other sounds were audible, voices, each with a distinct dialect and tone, all too familiar. “Mutants!” Peachyra barked to Kam, who nodded in breathless reply.

Then they were out of the woods, bursting onto a hillside overlooking a wide clearing. Below them was Spark, crying out in terror, ringed in by Vultureman, Jackalman and Monkian. As the young woman tried to break through the circle, one of the three would intercept her, shoving her hard back into the middle.

As worried as she was by the scene, Peachyra was further stunned to realize Spark was allowing it to happen. “She must be too scared to think straight,” she told Kam.

The Englishman nodded, then turned his full attention to the group. “Then, from out of the sky above, Kamanchee’s Triad satellite emitted a three devastating bursts of power, vaporizing the mutants where they stood,” he recited.

Jackalman and Vultureman closed in on Spark, then shoved her backwards towards Monkian. She screamed. Then Monkian’s mace flashed downward and crushed her skull. Spark’s body collapsed like a house of cards, folding in on itself in a heap.

“SPAAAAAAAAARK!!!!!” Peachyra screamed. Instantly the three mutants oriented on them and began to charge up the hill towards them.

“Run!” Kam yelled.

“But they killed-” Peachyra blurted.

“AND THEY’RE GOING TO KILL US NEXT!!!” Kam screamed and ran. His outburst snapped Peachyra out of her shock and she raced after him. Back the way they had come, running towards the Wollo village.

Then a shadow lurched out of the woods in front of them. Something thudded as Kamanchee slammed to a stop before her. Then the lumbering form of Slithe trod ponderously into the light. Kamanchee moved with him, looking down at his waist, at the head of the reptile’s axe buried in his guts.

Peachyra screamed. Slithe looked towards her and grinned, then shrugged his huge shoulders, disloding Kam from the weapon. The Englishman was still alive, still standing, looking down in horror as his own intestines bulged from the gaping wound in his belly. Then Monkian and Vultureman grabbed him by the arms as Slithe and Jackalman moved towards her-

She ran again, not heeding any direction but away, even as Kamanchee’s shrieks of agony chased after her along with Slithe and Jackalman.

********

She was spent. She did not know how long she had been running, or if the two mutants were still behind her. She was exhausted emotionally and physically, her soul filled with a sick horror she would have given her own life to forget.

But survival instinct ran deep, and as she staggered to a halt she looked around, found a tree surrounded by thick brambles and went for it. The thorns tore her skin as she pushed into them, but it was her only hope. The mutants would never expect her to hide inside such a place. She reached the trunk and slid down beside it, praying the brambles would keep her concealed, just as they prevented her from seeing out.

Then she heard a rustle from the brush nearby, and her hear became as still as a stone in her chest. She held her breath as the rustling moved around by the tree. She could hear a snuffling sound, and fear melted her spine. Jackalman is a canine, she thought in horror. Can he track me by scent?!

Then her own body betrayed her as ther exertions of the last hour took their toll. Her right leg suddenly erupted in an awful cramp, twisting the limb beneath her, toppling her from her crouch. Despite the noise she made falling she kept her mouth clamped shut, emitting no more than a thin whine to betray the agony she was in.

Then the brambles were being beaten. She could hear the twigs snapping under a violent force as they were beaten out of the way. She tried to will herself back up, to run, but the muscles of her leg were in riot, spasming out of control. She could only lay helpless as her doom drove in on her.

“...please...” she whimpered, tears of terror, of fear of death streaming from her eyes. Her head shook slowly in denial, in negation of destruction. “...please...please don’t hurt me...”

Then the last of the brambles were crushed aside, and the massive head of Thundera Tiger gazed down on her with worried eyes.

“Peachy?” she asked.

************

The Revolt

Chapter Four

In the swamp near Castle Plundarr, Lion-O, Lord of the Thundercats, made his way in silence. Every nerve in him was alight with adrenaline, the weapon in his hand whispering to his mind, telling him what lay ahead.

The place he sought was a discarded set from the last work of the caninoid, Fianna. It had been home to a band of mobsters led by Slinky Avenger, a complex with several rooms and outhouses. Slinky herself had faded with the story; she was a shade, a character based on the authoress who had quit the group months earlier. The other members had then chosen to leave or stay as they pleased.

One had chosen to stay, to prepare a permanent home away from the Anti-Tiger Base. And today, Lion-O had come to kill her.

The young lord stopped in mid-step. Memory pressed in on him unbidden, like a physical force. The assassin’s taste ran to the decadent, and there had been leather masks, spiked collars, chains, a riding crop...

By sheer will he drove the memories down, pushed the imagery from his mind. He pressed on, ignoring the wild beat of his heart, until he reached the clearing surrounding the perimeter fence. Twelve feet separated him from the metal grid, twelve feet of coverless open space in which he was sure to be detected.

He could only hope that, should he fail, it was in such a manner that she would be forced to kill him outright.

He knelt down in the brush by the clearing, telling himself he was trying to think of a way across instead of waiting for the horrible wash of panic to pass. His mind flashed back to the counsel hall, to the gasp as the plastic palm computer had clattered onto the table before him.

********

A cheer arose from hero and villian alike. Lion-O looked around, saw Chilla weeping against Alluro's shoulder, saw Slithe hug - actually hug - Jackalman. And at the rear, a smile spread across the face of Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living like a slow-acting poison.

The debate over targets began, and the alliance nearly fractured before it could claim it's first victim. Most had a particular person they wanted to cut down; some, like the mutants, just wanted to kill somebody; and everyone wanted to kill RD Rivero personally. But for Lion-O, the target was never in doubt.

"Axelle," he said. "She's mine."

"Lion-O, no," Cheetara said, laying her hand on his arm. "She's too dangerous. Let Panthro-"

“No,“ was all he said. They looked at each other as the seconds passed, but it was Cheetara that looked away first, removing her hand with a shuddering sigh.

"Okay everyone, listen up!" Tygra yelled and waited to get the group‘s attention. "With the Puritan network on-line, the authors are unable to rewrite reality. They are subject to the same physical laws we are. Push them off a cliff and they fall, blast them and they burn, kill them and they stay dead."

"They have to abide by causal reality now," Tygra said. The mutants looked at each other in confusion. "No more iron busts falling out of an empty sky," he added. "But remember, whatever attributes they had before the system was activated, they still have. Thundera Tiger and Sher Kahn are still six-hundred pound predators, Thunderwolf can still crush steel, and the fishy one can still change form and bite your head off. Do not underestimate them!"

"What about the magicians?!" Luna shrieked, making everyone but Mumm-Ra wince. "There are several of them with sorcery at their command. Do they still have it?"

Tygra considered a moment, then said, "I imagine if they have mastered some of our native magical system, it would still work for them." He looked at Mumm-Ra. "You're the expert, what do you think?"

"He has never mastered my arts,” Mumm-Ra said. The undead warrior’s eyes swirled with hellfire, twin wisps of smoke rising from them. “He has duplicated their effects through his own methods, but his sorcery, like his allegiance to Mumm-Ra, are a fiction."

The room was still in the wake of Mumm-ra’s pronouncement, then Panthro broke the spell.

"If we're going to do it, let's do it."

********

Lion-O broke from cover and ran at the fence. Still twenty feet away he sprang, powerful leg muscles sending the Thundercat hurtling through the air. He did not think about his launch or his landing, never considered how to move his arms and legs as he soared over the fence; instinct controlled his course, as much a part of him as his heartbeat. And when Lion-O landed safely in a guarded crouch on the other side, his only concern for the entire event was being seen.

He bolted from the fence to the nearest building, a squat prefabricated shed. He waited for attack, straining both his and his weapon's senses to detect the glint of sunlight on metal, the tell-tale whisper of a knife cutting the air, the faint hum of a plasma rifle being primed. The seconds crawled by until, at last, he began to hope he'd made it inside the perimeter undetected.

He edged carefully around the corner and spotted a door. He moved towards it, put his left hand on the latch and froze as the sword in his right hand growled a warning. He pulled his hand away carefully, then focused his full attention on the Sword of Omens. A picture began to form behind his eyes, of the latch mechanism, of wires running away from it to a sculpted explosive charge just inside. The instant he opened the door, he would be obliterated.

He scanned the rest of the room and swore softly, not at the empty chamber beyond, but at his own foolishness. Axelle was a killer, death was her trade, and she'd nearly claimed him with a basic booby trap any mutant could have built. He was going to have to do better if he hoped to survive this, let alone accomplish his own goal.

He was about to move on to the next when a thought occurred to him; why would Axelle booby trap an empty room? Particularly with a shaped charge meant to kill the intruder without damaging the structure? He moved to a section of the corrugated steel wall and used the Sword of Omens to cut a gash in the thin metal equal to his own height. Two more cuts and he was inside the dark room. He searched the area and soon found a trap door set into the floor, locked from below. Lion-O passed the Sword's blade through the steel at the door's edge, severing the bolt, and opened it to reveal stairs leading down.

He descended the steps to find himself in a large empty concrete bunker, lit by rows of overhead flourescent lights. At the far end was a steel door, the only other exit in sight. He advanced towards it quickly, the rasp of his soft-soled boots echoing back to him as he went, impossibly loud to his ears.

He was half-way across when the Sword of Omens snarled a warning, flashing danger into his mind. He froze, and as the echo of his steps faded, he heard a sibilant hissing, He followed the sound with his eyes to ventilation ducts in the ceiling overhead.

Lion-O inhaled deeply and ran for the door, hoping the gas was not the sort that absorbed through the skin. He reached the door and tried the handle, found it opened easily. He stepped through, slamming it shut to contain the poison gas on the other side.

He turned to find himself on a narrow catwalk around a large, deep room. He looked for immediate threats, but finding none, he began to walk around the gantry looking for a way down. He'd gone only two steps when the world lurched sickeningly, forcing him to stagger to the wall and lean against it as wave after wave of powerful nausea gripped him.

As he rested there his ears detected a faint whirring. He looked up and saw a small camera mounted on the wall as it turned to track him. Then he heard laughter coming from the PA system, a blend of harmony and discord that the distortion of the PA could not conceal.

"You’ll have to excuse me, Lion-O, I wasn’t quite set up for guests," Axelle said. “It’s nice of you to come, though, it saves me having to look for you.“

Lion-O snarled, looking around for the speaker, but all he spotted was a steel stairway leading to the floor below. He steadied himself and started towards it , then as an afterthought, he turned and aimed the Sword of Omens at the surveillance camera. A lance of energy speared from the weapon and cut into the camera, flaming it out.

Axelle laughed again, like fine crystal breaking. "Now that was a bad kitty, Lion-O, bad! I'm going to have to punish you for that," she said. There was a click as the PA was turned off, then nothing.

He took the stairs down to the floor and found two doors, one close by, the other at the opposite end of the room. The concrete here was marked with tape and paint; squares along the wall were labelled “Seats”, the octogon in the middle labelled “arena”.

The door behind him clicked. Lion-O spun, Sword and shield raised to guarding positions. The door swung open to reveal Axelle, smiling broadly. She swaggered into the room, cool, confident, arrogant.

“Do you like it?” she asked. “I’m recreating a set from one of my stories, but I wasn’t sure I’d set aside enough room. It was nice of you to come by so we can test it out.”

She reached behind her back and produced a set of curved fighting knives. “Afterwards, I can show you another part of the compound. There’s this chair - “

She was cut off as Lion-O lunged at her. The Sword of Omens was in it’s dagger configuration, and Lion-O used as such, cutting in tight arcs that forced the assassin to backpedal quickly. Sensing an advantage, Lion-O pressed in on her, driving her towards the wall.

Axelle leapt backwards, planted both feet on the wall and kicked off. Lion-O, caught up in his attack, was unable to react in time as the assassin drove her foot into the center of his face, knocking him onto his back.

“Amateur,” Axelle laughed as Lion-O scrambled to his feet. “How did you ever survive the anointment trials?”

Lion-O shook his head, struggling to clear it. He'd taken harder shots, but mingled with the effects of the gas, he was disoriented, off-balance.

"Now let me show you how it's done," Axelle said, and then Lion-O was on the defensive as she came at him in a blizzard of flickering steel. He was stronger than she was , faster, but she was the more skilled. Parrying with Sword and Shield, it was all he could manage to prevent one of the flashing blades from lodging in his vitals.

Then Axe backed off, chuckling lightly. Lion-O was covered in small cuts, wobbling from the combined effects of poison and exertion.

"Pathetic," Axelle sneered. "How Mumm-Ra ever failed to beat you is beyond me. Hell, how Slithe failed is beyond me. That Sword is all the skill you have, without it you'd be dead already."

"No," Lion-O said weakly.

"Really? I'd ask you to put that butter knife down and prove it, but you're barely a challenge as it stands. Take the Sword away and I might very well fall asleep fighting you," she grinned. She began to circle him, knives held loosely in her hands. Lion-O kept his guard up, turning to face her.

"You're a fake, Lion-O, a fraud" she said, her eyes glittering hard as black diamonds. "Panthro is stronger, Tygra is smarter, Cheetara faster. The twins are more creative and Snarf's a better cook. The only thing you have going for you is a magical sword, and even that you got second-hand.“

“Shut up,“ Lion-O snapped.

Axelle ignored the remark, stalking him with slowly closing circles. “The proud dynasty of Lion Clan meets it’s ignoble end with the death of the last Lord of the Thundercats, battling a foe the Crutch of Omens couldn’t save him from. Your father would be so disap-”

“SHUUUUUDUUUP!!!!!” Lion-O screamed and lunged at the assassin. Axelle smiled and set herself to deliver a killing thrust.

Then the earth around the fighters rose up in a wave, contorted and twisted, throwing them both to the floor. The room reverberated with a subsonic roar, echoing out of the very walls. Lion-O looked up, saw the ceiling far above spiderweb with cracks.

Neither he nor Axelle had any time to react as tons of earth and concrete collapsed and fell in on them.

********

Lion-O awoke with blood in his mouth and no feeling in his legs. He could feel a warm wetness flowing within his body, could feel his fingers growing numb and cold. A slab of concrete, six inches thick and large as a banquet table covered him from the shoulders down, a blanket of hard stone. The weight of it bore down on him, trapping him, pressing on his chest. Each breath he drew was an effort to raise it with his rib cage, to admit a tiny wiff of air into his lungs.

He knew he was dying. The only question was wether internal injuries would claim him before suffocation did.

He heard a scrape to his right, and turned his head. In the light from the single surviving emergency lamp he saw a large pile of concrete shift at it’s top, then tumble down the side. A hand pushed through, then more stone was moved. Moments later, Axelle was loose, bloodied and bruised, but spared a crushing death by the twisted metal of the catwalk, which had landed on top of her position, bearing the weight.

She looked around, then spotted Lion-O’s face in the rubble. She smiled broadly and came to where he lay. She crouched by the slab that covered him, then crawled across it to look directly down into Lion-O’s face.

“Not bad, I didn’t think you had it in you,” she said. “Looks like it backfired though.”

Lion-O said nothing. He had not caused the earthquake; in fact, he’d believed she’d done it somehow. He saw no point in correcting her now.

Axelle’s smile faded, replaced by a hard, thin line. “I don’t know what you’ve done to prevent me from using my powers, but once I get them back, you’ll pay dearly for this,” she promised. “I can see you aren’t going to last much longer, but I think I can make these few moments memorable.”

She lifted her right hand from the slab, showing Lion-O the knife she held. “The American Indians had a technique the liked to employ. They cut off their victim’s lips, and ears, and eye-lids, then staked him out in the sun to die. Now I may not be able to follow through all the way just yet, but practice makes perfect.”

She shifted her body and brought the edge of the knife towards Lion-O’s left ear, then stopped. The expression of smug confidence evaporated, replaced by bald faced suprise mingled with pain. She looked down, saw the shine of metal proceeding from the surface of the slab and into her solar plexus, just below the sternum.

Then, with a final thrum of energy, the Sword of Omens still clasped in Lion-O’s hand expanded once more, driving through the concrete slab and Axelle’s body. With a sigh she collapsed to the stone, the tip of the Sword piercing her back, impaling her. She came to rest, her lifeless eyes staring into Lion-O’s.

The youth laid his head back on the stone. The battery from the emergency light began to fail, and as darkness came over him, he thought of Cheetara, Panthro, all of his friends, eveything they had faced and fought together over the years. But as tears began to flow from his eyes, he knew the darkness that crept over his soul was not grief over the end of his own life.

It was that, in the end, Axelle had been right; he could never have beaten her without the Sword her.

********

Normally, I do five-parters, but this story is simply too damn BIG to squeeze in! Expect one or two more chapters before it concludes.

Now let's see who we're whacking tonight! Hmmm, in the mood for fish...

And Chanur? Yer gonna pay for that head-rolling bit, guy. Maybe not this time, but soon...soon... :)

The Revolt

Chapter 5

The mid-day sun shone down brightly on a broad, deep pool of water in the woods near the infamous Anti-Tiger Base. In the cool depths, the author known to the world as Shark was enjoying some much-needed rest and relaxation. He cruised the depths lazily in his amphibious mode, humanoid from the waist up, shark from the waist down. His harpoon was slung across his back, the only attire he wore in this form, it's steel cold against his back.

He smiled to himself. Humans in the water found their senses muddied, distorted, but not he. His mouth was open, allowing the fresh, slightly muddy-tasting water to flow across his gills. He could smell the other fish in the water, sense the electrical current of their nervous systems as they darted towards him curiously, or fled in fear.

He rolled over once, twice, then began to swim towards the surface. As he went, his lower extremities began to metamorphose, splitting into two halves then completing the change into legs. The scales at his hips seemed to shrug, and a set of ragged beach shorts appeared there. He continued kicking up towards the brightening light when a sub-sonic rumble came to his sensitive ears. This was followed by a loud roar, carrying without pause through the water. It was a roar he knew, a tone he knew, and with a surge of explosive speed Shark burst to the surface, his lover's name on his lips.

"Thunderwolf!!"

When he'd gone into the pool, his beloved lion had been lounging on a beach towel on the grassy gnoll beyond the sandy shore. That idle tableau was erased now as he saw his mate battling for his life against a behemoth out of the darkest corners of Thundercat lore.

"Kill him! Crush him!" Luna shrieked, but it was not the diminutive harpy that sent a wave of sheer horror into the ichthyoid. It was her mount, the immense, barely-sentient Amok. The bull-like monster was reared to twelve feet in height, it's thick piledriver arms raised above it's head.

Thunderwolf lunged towards the monster, delivering a two-handed swing of his mace to it's abdomen. Amok's tunic shredded, as did the flesh beneath it, but the monster took no notice. As the lion sprang nimbly away, the creature's mighty arms swung downward, striking him, driving him onto his face and into the very dirt, making the water of the pond ripple with the force of impact.

Shark surged towards shore, reaching knee-deep water as luna brayed with glee and Amok rose to deliver another bone-crushing blow. He saw Thunderwolf trying to push himself up from the crater formed by his own body, and then his harpoon was in his hand.

"NNNOOOOOO!" Shark screamed as he launched the missle towards the Lunatacs. Luna's head whirled, but she did not have enough time to register suprise before the lance impaled her chest, sweeping the harpy from her mount, carrying her to the tree opposite and pinning her there like a grisly insect in a madman's collection.

Amok hesitated, looking left and right in confusion. He saw the ichthyoid at the edge of the water, then saw his mistress hanging dead on the tree trunk.

"Loooonaaaa?" the creature rumbled. Then realization set in, and the monster charged towards Shark with terrifying speed, bawling like an enraged bullock. Shark stared, the instinct to flee, to dive into the safety of the water and race away, at war with an overwhelming need to protect Thunderwolf at any cost.

It was a debate that raged for only a moment, but in that moment of indecision, Amok was on top of him. The creature reared to it's full, terrifying height, it's balled fists the size of car tires standing high over it's head. Weaponless, transfixed, Shark could only gape at the broad expanse of muscular chest, feel the heat coming from it's body before those mighty limbs crashed down on top of him.

He was in the water, in the sand beneath the water, half buried. He heard popping sounds, realized it was his cartlaginous skeleton being crushed and broken. He opened his mouth to scream, and only blood came out into the water. Spasmodically he inhaled, and the human part of him sucked bloody water back into air-breathing lungs, ignoring the gills. The merman was drowning.

From beneath the surface of the water he saw Amok rise again to deliver another blow. Then the creature reeled as Thunderwolf's mace collided with it's skull. One of the monster's horns snapped off at the base and flew into the water as it staggered to Shark's right, stunned by the impact.

Thunderwolf came into his field of vision then, swinging wildly with the mace in his right hand. His left arm, pulverized by Amok's fearful strength, flopped uselessly at his side. He was screaming incoherently, blood on his lips, tears flying from his eyes as he drove the monster back and back.

Shark floated free of the sand, suprised at how little pain he felt. Instinct took over and he switched his breathing to his gills, relieving his collapsed and flooded lungs of their unbearable burden. The stirring waves set him drifting near the surface and an unconscious flick of his hand turned him towards where his lover fought on.

But the battle was almost over. Injured, exerting his utmost strength, Thunderwolf was tiring rapidly. His blows seemed to find the mark with every shot, raining down on Amok's skull, but still the monster would not fall.

Then, in one instant, the lion was too slow dodging away, and Amok had him. The monster caught the lion with both hands and lifted him high. Fingers that could crush concrete flexed on too-brittle thunderan bones, and Thunderwolf screamed as his ribs fractured.

The scream ended as Amok slammed the lion into the ground, then began raining blow after blow down upon his unmoving form, bellowing all the while. Blood flew into the air with each crushing impact, the sound of bones crunching becoming less and less as there were fewer and fewer of them left unbroken.

Then Amok left Thunderwolf where he lay and turned his hatred-filled gaze towards the wounded Shark. It started towards him, then staggered. It tipped to the side, bawled once more and fell. As it lay there, it's tiny brain at last became aware that it's shell had been cracked by the lion's mace, and Amok died.

Shark drifted past Amok's body, until he was even with the spot where his lover had made his final stand. Knowing his lungs were useless, he passed water over his gills rapidly, oxygenating his blood as completely as possible, then rolled over onto his belly and pushed himself to his knees.

Now the pain came, bursting from his ruined lungs in a soundless wash of bloody water. Consciousness tried to flee, to make room for merciful oblivions, but Shark caught it , held it visciously, refusing to let go now, not when he was so close...

He crawled out of the water and onto the sandy bank, then onto the grass beyond, forcing muscles that screamed for rest and oxygen. His vision swam, faded, then returned as fresh waves of agony assailed his broken body.

Only a little longer, he prayed to whatever gods were listening. Please...just a little more...

Then he was there, beside the corpse of his lion. Thunderwolf's body was not recognisable as his own, or even as a body. The flesh had been reduced to putty, partially ground down into the hungry earth. Shark looked desparately around for something, anything he could define as a part of his beloved, and saw at last Thunderwolf's hand, bloody but whole.

With the last vestiges of oxygen in his body he reached out and laid his own leathery gray hand on top of it. He collapsed as consciousness finally wriggled free of him, and his body instinctively tried to switch to it's air-breathing lungs, only to find them reduced to bloody ruins.

In less than a minute, he too was gone.

*********

"I have been planning this for a while," Benni said. "I think it is good for employers and employees to meet outside the office, don't you?"

Behind her, coming up the hill overlooking the Anti-Tiger Base, RD Rivero switched the pic-nic basket from one hand to the other, trading places with a case of pepsi cola.

"Lady Thundera-", he began.

"Forget Lady Thundera, she is gone now," Benni said as they crested the hill. The tigress flipped open a large checkered blanket onto the ground, then took the basket from Rivero and set it down. She began to set out dishes totalling two place settings, then took out several containers. These she opened to reveal fried chicken, pork chops, potato salad, and chocolate chip cookies.

RD sat down on the blanket and surveyed the repast. "An admirable effort, my excellent accomplice," he said, then added dubiously, "These cookies aren't from Kamanchee's bakery, are they?"

Benni laughed. "Of course not! I am a very good cook," she said. "It is one of many...talents I have," she added slyly.

Rivero selected a chicken leg. "Indeed. Your programming skills and ability to decieve Tygra have proven invaluable to our quest."

Benni stared at him a moment then sighed. Then she brightened and said, "I like your new look, who designed it?"

"It's not new, actually, it's old," Rivero replied. "Fluffy gave me my uniform, but this red housecoat was my original design. The pink Bunny-Ra slippers were Fianna's addition."

Benni set down her plate and leaned closer to him. "What do you have on underneath there?" she asked, her voice warm and soft.

RD looked up and said, "Pajamas, of course," then returned to his chicken leg.

Benni groaned, then flopped onto her back in the grass. She heared RD make a complimentary remark about the potato salad, but her mind was suddenly distracted by a horrifying sight on the horizon.

"RD! There's...there..."

Her cry tapered into silence as a ghostly blue light bathed over the couple. Out of the glow words floated in a sugary sweet voice.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, is there? You both just want to lie back and relax. Close your eyes and sleep, and it will all be over before you know it."

********

"I can't believe Tygra turned on us!" Peachyra said, still trying to digest the story Thundera Tiger had told her.

"Don't forget the warrior maidens!" Axelle blurted. "Poor Sher Kahn!"

"Something's going on here. It's as though the characters of the TCATGR are hunting the authors," TT snarled.

"It could be RD's doing," Peachyra said. "Has he ever turned Tygra against you before?"

TT shook her head. "This isn't his work. I don't know if you've been too busy to notice, but our powers have stopped working again. That's the sign of the Puritan."

"But I thought the Puritan was gone forever this time," Ayanna whimpered.

TT shook her head slowly in confusion. "I don't know how it happened, but that's what it seems like. We have to get to RD and find some answers. The ATB is about a mile to the west of here, if we hurry we can be there in a few..."

She hesitated as a shadow fell across them, blotting the noon-day light that filtered through the boughs overhead. They all looked up, but the forest canopy obscured the view. Then the shadow was past them, moving slowly away.

"What was that?" Ayanna asked.

"I don't know," TT said. Not knowing was getting to be an uncomfortably familiar sensation for her. "But it's headed towards the ATB. Let's go!"

********

In his room in the Anti-Tiger Base, Fuzzball was kicked back with Zhie, passing a bottle of Gentleman Jack back and forth and trading stories of the old days.

"I can't believe Widdaw had the balls to come back," Zhie snorted.

"His kind always do," Fuzzy chuckled. The little idiots never know when to quit."

"Unlike you, huh?" Zhie jabbed.

Fuzzball flipped her a finger, then chuckled. "I have my reasons. I'm just taking my time packing."

"Alot of people are gonna miss you," Zhie said.

Fuzzy shrugged. "My friends know where to find me," he said, and took a long draw from the bottle. He passed it back to Zhie when a red light in the wall by the ceiling came on and the hallway alarm bell began to ring.

"What the fuck?!" Fuzzy exclaimed. The evil snarf hopped out of his seat and ran out the door, Zhie in tow. Moments later they arrived in the control room, and Fuzzy pressed a series of keys, bringing an image up on the main console.

"Son...of...a...bitch," the snarf said in a hushed tone at the picture that filled the view screen. Behind him, he heard Zhie gulp down the last of the whiskey and toss the bottle over her shoulder.

There on the screen was a weapons platform the size of a small city, floating nearly a mile above the ground. The surface of the massive war machine bristled with an incredible array of plasma and projectile weaponry, while it’s gothic design and black coloration served the twin purpose of breaking up it’s outline and evoking an almost involuntary reaction of fear in it’s beholders.

But Fuzzball, never prone to panic, shuddered not from it’s ghastly form, but from the readings on his instruments that showed the killing machine to be both fully operational and fully powered.

Skytomb was coming for them.

********

The Revolt

Chapter 6

Fuzzball burst into maniacal laughter as he raced around the command center hitting buttons and pulling levers. Zhie watched him with a sort of numb detachment, tempted to ask him what he was doing, but fearful he might shoot her for interrupting.

The reason for his furor was obvious; Skytomb, the mightiest weapons system on Third Earth. Designed during the Terran-Lunatac conflict, it was meant to devastate worlds while needing only a handful of skilled technical people to operate it. That Luna and her cronies had never wiped the Thundercats out was less a testament to Thunderan might than an indicator of Redeye's mechanical incompetence.

"Panthro," she said.

Fuzzy skidded to a halt, his train of thought de-railed, and considered shooting her for interrupting him. But like any good tactician, he knew the value of extra input.

"What the fuck are you blathering about?"

"Panthro," she replied. "Tygra, too. They're the only ones on Third Earth with the know-how to get that thing to peak levels. That means the Lunatacs and Thundercats are working together."

Fuzzy sprang back into the command chair, grinning gleefully, and slapped a large red button on the arm As the earth around the ATB began to tremble, the button sank into the chair and was replaced by an aviator-style joystick. "I don't care if they got Barney the Purple Dinosaur on board. I'm just happy I got to use THIS!"

********

Chilla looked upwards, trainging her black eyes on the horizon. Skytomb was drawing near the patch of rolling forest where lay the last author stronghold on their world. Returned to full power with the aid of the Thundercats - much to Chilla's chagrin - the ancient siege engine would shortly reduce the ATB to desolate, charred ruin.

Chilla smiled grimly, but the hatred that dwelt at the core of her soul was bitter at being excluded from the final battle. "Where is he? There is still time to return to Skytomb if he gets here soon!"

"He's coming, my blue-skinned beauty," Alluro purred, never taking his eyes from his thralls. RD Rivero and Benni the tigress were stretched prone on the ground, unmoving in the blue glow of Alluro's psyche club. "Don't vex yourself. One such as he is...not to be hurried, after all."

"I don't know what you're waiting for," an angry voice snarled. "But you got US!!"

Chilla whirled, years of warrior breeding and genetically-engineered reflexes coming into play as she struck out with her arm. The blow caught the pouncing cheetah in the side of the head and sent her spinning to the grass, stunned.

Alluro screamed. Chilla whirled and saw her lover go down beneath the raging claws of a six-hundred pound striped demon. Violet blood flew as Thundera Tiger's jaws drove gleaming fangs through the mentalist's neck, turning his screams into horrific gurgles. Then the tiger's neck heaved, and Alluro's head rolled free across the grassy knoll.

Adrenaline flowing through Chilla's body activated portions of her brain normally dormant, and disengaging others. The death of her lover did not register emotionally, only as a statistic, a combat parameter. With clinical detachment she primed a set of glands lining her throat, glands that would expel into her breath stream a mist that would freeze the tiger's flesh on contact and peel the skin from her body.

Before she could strike she was hit hard on the side of her head. She turned to see a strangely-dressed blonde human armed with a handful of rocks, her arm drawn back to throw again. But before the Ice Lunatac could retaliate, the ground trembled beneath their feet, then tore open, sending everyone, including the disoriented Rivero and Benni, tumbling down the hillside.

Peachyra was first to her feet, but after scrambling up she stopped dead, staring in amazement at the landscape around them. The land covering the subterranian citadel was being transformed from a forest of wood into one of metal as dozens of long, black cannon barrels rose from hidden bunkers in the earth. Missle arrays ten yards across blossomed like flowers of destruction, their multiple warheads gleaming in the sun, trees still moored to their upper surfaces like stamen waving in the breeze.

She looked to the Lunatac war machine drawing inexorably closer, then around them at the gun emplacements, and it suddenly struck her that she and her friends were on the outer edge of ground zero. "RUUUUUN!!" she heard Ayanna scream, and then they were racing back up the hillside, around the missle array that had sprung up there, and towards the forest bordering the battlefield. She was still gathering speed when Ayanna shot by her, followed by Thundera Tiger. RD and Benni overtook her at the top of the hill and rushed on into the woods.

Within yards of the woods, Peachyra was suddenly gripped by a powerful wave of emotion, bringing her to a halt. As her friends screamed warnings from the trees, Peachyra turned back and walked to the crest of the hill. It was not curiosity that propelled her, but a need to bear witness, to see with her own eyes the final collapse of the empire the authors had built here.

Just as she crested the hill the patchy forest below erupted into fire. The air was filled with flashes of brilliant light as tracers tore from the ground towards the darkly-majestic Skytomb. The roar of chain guns, the deafening bass boom of the long cannon, the hissing screams of unleashed plasma assailed assailed her senses, their sonic power striking her own flesh like a blow.

In reply, the Lunatac vessel unleashed it's full power on the earthen face of the ATB, raining flashes of fiery death in a torrent upon the rapidly-denuded earth. Centuries-old trees had their sap superheated in their wooden veins, exploding them like cheap firecrackers before they had a chance to burn, while lesser vegetation was reduced to mere whiffs of vapor.

Peachyra watched and waited. Skytomb continued to advance ponderously, inexorably, not making any attempt to evade. The ground beneath her feet shook as the missle array in the hill fired it's payload towards the Lunatacs, only to see the plasma-based missles detonated harmlessly against the platform's force shield. Meanwhile, the downpour of superheated gasses finished reducing the forest above the ATB into a charred desert.

Then she caught sight of a glimmer from the dark outline of Skytomb. She looked more closely and saw a series of secondary explosions rock the upper reaches of the vessel. The explosions swiftly became fires, raging from the openings created by the original blasts.

Her amazement at this was cut short as a volley from Skytomb struck the missle launcher beneath her. For a moment, the world became a flash of violet and red, full of awful sound, then no sound at all. Then she was lying on her back as RD and Benni pulled on her arms, trying to get her to stand up. They were screaming something, she could see the fearful passion in their faces, but all she could hear was a loud ringing that blotted out everything else.

Her face felt hot and stiff, but she sensed she was not badly injured. She clambered to her feet and shrugged off the hands of her would-be rescuers. In her heart she knew her work was not done. There was more to witness.

Most of the ATB guns were still now, either slagged by plasma or out of ammunition. Skytomb had also ceased firing, although it continued to advance, dropping lower in the sky as it came. Looking at the vessel, she suddenly realized what had happened, and her sudden burst of laughter brought puzzled looks from her friends.

Skytomb was designed by a people who had abandoned pojectile weapons, considering them "inelegant". Their shields were design to repel plasma weaponry, and against these the titanic battle fortress was all but impervious, as the ATB's missles had shown. But Fuzzball's solid armor-piercing shells cut easily through the protective nimbus, slowed little if at all in the passing, to slam deep into Skytomb's hide. By contrast, the plasma weaponry of the Lunatacs was foiled by the most primitive defense of all: the earthen face of the ATB itself. Purple bolts of energy hissed to the ground, expending their energy on foliage, vaporizing the water in the soil, and blasting bare feet into the earth itself.

It was a contest of high-tech versus low-tech, and high-tech was losing. More plumes of fire began to appear from Skytomb, setting most of the craft alight. It was coming in bare yards above the ATB, wobbling as it came, and Peachyra began to feel a slight twinge of hope, a glimmer that perhaps, just perhaps, everything would be okay. Then Skytomb stopped, hovering in the air directly above the ATB, and Peachyra knew she had been wrong, that Skytomb was not crashing. The strange calm that had covered her for so long evaporated like rain from a sidewalk, replaced by absolute terror. Grabbing the others and pulling them along, she turned and ran for the woods.

********

Skytomb was powered by a thundrillium reactor, the basis of all Thundercat technology. The mineral thundrillium was washed by a powerful magnetic field, which excited the substance, transforming it into an intermediary stage between matter and energy. This was then siphoned off in miniscule amounts, converted to electricity, and used to superheat gas for the plasma-based weaponry of the vessel.

Incredibly disintegrative, no solid matter could contain the resulting maelstrom of power, requiring force field generators to prevent the core from devouring the vessel itself. And now that Skytomb was in position, Redeye, his body burnt and torn by devastating explosions in the control room, reached out his hand and deactivated one of those shields, allowing the full, devastating power of the reactor core to escape through the bottom of Skytomb in a brilliant column of power.

The surge struck the earth and devoured it, adding the disintegrating matter to fuel it’s reaction. In the time it took Fuzzball to grasp what his instruments were showing him, his doom came upon him as the entire ATB was flooded with a nuclear inferno.

In that moment, the magnetic bottling of the ATB’s own twin reactors collapsed, unleashing their own awesome energy into the subterranean complex. The three titanic forces met there in the underground and battled each other in a cataclysmic collision of solar energy, transmuting their fuel cores into raw power for a final, devastating explosion.

Skytomb was disintegrated as the land above the ATB exploded upward in a wash of energy like the ignition of a star. The earth itself was torn by the explosion, producing a powerful miniature earthquake, sufficient to tip Castle Plundarr on it‘s foundation and collapse a hidden bunker buried in the set of an old riff.

********

Peachyra crawled out from beneath a fallen tree where she had taken shelter. Her hands were scraped , her muscles ached terribly, and the minor burn on her face was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. But more than this, she had lost her friends in the chaos of the earthquake and falling trees.

“Aya!” she called. “Tee Tee! Benni! RD!”

She heard no answer. She looked around, and realized that all the landmarks she knew were gone. Disoriented and lost, she began to wander, callinf out occasionally and listening for some intelligent reply.

“Aya! Tee-” she broke off as a small moan reached her ears. Filled with excitement and dread, she rushed in the direction of the sound, towards a large stump where a tree had broken and fallen. She circled around the trunk and stopped. She screamed.

Golden hair turned white from a rime of frost cracked and fell in brittle fragments as the sufferer shuddered towards death. The skin, what was visible around the lab coat, was turning blue-black and falling away from the flesh below. The eyes were swollen in the sockets, staring blindly, their surfaces split and oozing clear liquid flecked with ice fragments.

“Zhie,” Peachyra gasped in horror. “Oh god, Zhie!”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” she heard behind her. Peachyra whirled, saw Chilla stepping from behind a tree, smiling. “She fled the base by an underground passage right before the shooting started. When I took cover, she came out of a trap door right beside me. Convenient.“

“BITCH!” Peachyra screamed, rage winning out over fear.

“Creative,” Chilla hissed. “An unoriginal insult from an unoriginal person. Even your death won’t be original.” Then Chilla inhaled, her throat swelled, and she opened her mouth wide.

There was a deafening bang, and Chilla’s shoulders and head vanished in a spray of purple blood. The rest of the Lunatac’s body lurched to the right, staggered and fell, the liquid gushing from the ruined chest flash-freesing the grass it spilled out onto it.

RD Rivero rose out of the brush from just a few yards away, his infamous obscenely long elephant gun in his hands. With an inarticulate cry of relief, Peachyra rushed to the evil dictator and threw her arms around his neck, sobbing with terror and exhaustion against his shoulder.

As RD tried futiley to comfort her, the brush rustled again, allowing Thundera Tiger, Ayanna and Benni into the glade. Benni took the weeping Peachyra from RD, offering soothing words and comfort as she led her to the felines. There, she relayed the events of the last few moments to them until RD joined them moments later.

“Zhie’s gone,” he said grimly. “It was a nasty way to die.”

Benni left the other females and went to RD. “What are we going to do?” she said.

“We’ve been down lower than this before,“ RD said, his tone soft, reassuring and affectionate. “We’ll face this the same way we’ve faced other crises like it in the past. Together.”

Benni smiled at RD, and RD smiled back. Then Benni screamed and sprang backwards. RD spun around , bringing his gun up, only to deliver it into a powerful blue hand, which crushed the steel of the barrel like a paper towel roller and dropped it. The other hand clamped around Rivero’s throat, lifting him from the ground.

“RD!” Thundera Tiger screamed. In an incredible display of feline power, the tigress sprang from Peachyra’s side towards RD’s attacker, two-inch claws extended to rip and tear. She collided with a backhand fist that crushed her jaw, reversed her travel and sent her crashing down at Peachyra’s feet. Then Mumm-Ra turned to RD, struggling helplessly in his grasp, and lifted the human to shoulder-height, his arm outstretched.

“Too long have I been your plaything,” the mummy intoned. “Too long have you fulfilled your fantasies at the expense of Mumm-Ra. Pay now the price for your insolence!” Mumm-Ra’s eyes narrowed, and Rivero screamed. The author’s body shook in violent spasms, his hands convulsing on the warrior’s wrist as his legs spun furiously. Peachyra, Ayanna and Bennie screamed as smoke began to rise from RD’s hair, saliva to bubble from his mouth. A smell of cooking meat filled the glade.

RD’s struggles ceased, his eyes fixed wide and staring. Then the flesh of his face began to scorch, blacken and bubble. His eyeballs swelled and burst, spitting sizzling liquid out onto his cheeks. His lips peeled back from his teeth, then disintegrated, crumbling away into nothing. Mumm-Ra released Rivero’s body, and the author’s charred corpse struck the ground and broke into pieces inside it’s clothing.

“...run...”

The females looked down, saw Thundera Tiger looking up at them, but making no effort to stand. “...run...,” she slurred again, and they looked up to see Mumm-Ra striding towards them. The demon warrior’s hand passed behind his back and when it came forward, the double blades of the Sword of Plundarr were in it.

Peachyra, Ayanna and Benni fled, pursued by Mumm-Ra’s demonic laughter and Thundera Tiger’s screams. They raced together through the woods, lost and terrified. They had no plan, no strategy, only the memory of horror driving them on relentlessly. Then they crashed out of the woods and miraculously found themselves on the broad plain leading to Cat’s Lair, a few hundred feet away.

“Come on!” Benni yelled. “If nobody is inside, we can lock it up and look for help!”

“Stop where you are.” Peachyra, Benni and Ayanna froze, looking around the empty field, trying to find the source of the voice.

Tygra appeared between them and the Lair. Then the entire scene wavered, and the rest of the surviving Thundercats appeared as well. Panthro, Cheetara, Lynx-O, Pumyra, all armed and ready. Peachyra looked over her shoulder, and saw the woods come alive with warrior maidens, stalking out of the fastness with their bows at full draw, aimed at the three. The Mutants were coming as well, although keeping well clear of the amazons. A rustle of grass prompted her to look back to Tygra, where she saw Mumm-Ra settling to earth beside him.

“Status report?“ Tygra called out.

“The witch was burnt in her house,“ Bengali said. “The Insane One is gone, no sign anywhere.“

Tygra nodded, then looked to Mumm-Ra. “Anything to add?“

The blue-skinned warrior looked into the distance, as though listening to words only he could hear. “These three,‘ he said.

“They are the last.”

********

At last, we've reached the end!

Peirs Anthony once wrote that, as he was doing his Incarnations of Immortality series, it seemed he was being stalked by the powers he wrote about. "On A Pale Horse" brought a series of deaths into his life, "Bearing an Hourglass" brought acute scheduling problems, and so for :)th.

When I began "The Revolt", I wanted to do something dramatic and action-oriented, since nobody has ever done anything like that here in the past. It was a real challenge, since I cannot bear to hurt my friends ::notices Thunderwolf laughing, throws a Milkbone at him::. Little did I know that, halfway into the story, the events of New York would be happening.

At first, I really thought about dropping it altogether - how could I write about harm coming to my friends when so much harm had come to so many? But I can clearly point to the one thing that kept me going on it all - you guys. Your encouragement, your accolades, your good humor in the face of your own extinction. That and a burning desire to do something really AWFUL to Zhie in my next riff, heh heh heh...

This story is dedicated to all of you, old and new, here and departed, who've made this place a haven from reality in a time when I needed one so desparately. Thank you.

And so, without further ado, I give you...

The Revolt

Chapter 7

The circle of characters closed around the three surviving authors of TCATGR. Warrior Maidens with bows at full draw, mutants with weapons poised, Thundercats in a state of watchfulness. Even mighty Mumm-Ra, his unblinking eyes boring into them like twin lasers.

"I gotta get out of here," Ayanna muttered, her voice tinged with panic.

"Aya, stay calm," Peachyra said with a confidence she did not feel. "It's not over yet, we-"

"I gotta run, gotta get out, gotta-" then she bolted, leaping towards small opening between two maidens.

"Aya NO!" Peachyra cried, but it was too late. The first arrow punched completely through the cheetah’s body, felling her in mid-air. She hit the grass in a skid, sliding towards her original goal, until two more arrows brought her to a final stop, pinning her corpse to the ground.

"AYAAA!" Benni screamed.

"BE SILENT!" Mumm-Ra roared, and Benni fell to her knees, weeping quietly.

Peachyra stared at the bloody corpse and knew she should be in terror, but once again the icy calm that had come over her on the ATB hillside descended, quelling her fear and keeping her thoughts focused. She could feel a core of iron surfacing within herself, keeping her anchored. She could feel her fear strike against it like swords clashing, but it was the terror that shattered, not her.

"What's this about, Tygra?" she asked. The Thundercat regarded her a moment, then opened his mouth to speak., but before he could Bengali grasped his arm and pulled him away. The white tiger's expressive face was alive with a mix of emotions she found impossible to read. She could not hear what they said, but it was obvious they were arguing.

Benni looked at her ersatz twin, then at Peachyra, and the heartbreaking glimmer of hope in her eyes strained the preternatural calm Peachyra was under. But the end was not long in coming. Tygra endured Bengali's arguments impassively for several minutes, but when at last the younger tiger paused for breath, Tygra spoke three words, unintelligble to the onlookers, but devastating to Bengali.

The young tiger blanched and fell instantly silent. He turned towards Benni, met he hopeful gaze and mouthed two words of his own. "I'm sorry," he said, and turned his back on the entire group, walking away into the woods as his twin crumbled to helpless tears.

Tygra rejoined the others and said, "Let's finish this. Willa?"

Willa, still wrapped in her new tigerskin cloak, stepped to the side of her line. "Take aim," she called, and her soldiers drew careful target on the two surviving authors.

"WAIT!"

Everyone turned looked at Cheetara. The female Thundercat looked stricken, horrified. She staggered and would have fallen except for Panthro, who caught her and held her upright.

"What is it, Cheetara?" Tygra asked evenly. "We agreed to leave you out of the hunt, since you had reservations about it, but don't try to interfere now."

"Lion-O is dead," she said in a heartsick voice. "I feel weight, pressing down, tired, too tired to draw breath. Burning in my chest and then, nothing."

The Thundercats exchanged horrified looked while the Mutants brayed laughter and slapped each other on the back. Mumm-Ra's face was inscrutabble, impassive as granite.

"We, we have to finish," Tyga said at last. "It's what he would have wanted."

"He wanted to LIVE!" Cheetara screamed. "I asked you before, when you came to us with this idea, how many of us were you willing to lose? How many are you ready to let die in this quest for freedom you envisioned? You said, 'We have to be ready to pay the price for freedom.'"

"Lion-O is dead. Snarf is dead. The Lunatacs have been wiped out, and a score of Berbils killed by the witch Tatiana," she shook her head, tears flowing over her cheeks. "The price is too high, Tygra, too high!"

Before Tygra could respond, Mumm-Ra's voice rang out above them all. "Thundercats, you are ever the weaker ones. Would you break your bargain with Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living? The Lunatacs were nothing to me, the hated Lion-O even less. And these pitiful husks are less even than he.”

Peachyra saw Mumm-Ra lift his hands towards them, then she was stricken blind by the red flash of lightning. Benni screamed. Thunder roared on the hillside, and a blast of ozone reached her nostrils followed by the stench of charred flesh. Heat washed over her as the sonic roar struck her from her feet and onto her back.

There were more screams, an incoherent roar that sounded like Panthro, the sound of bone breaking. Bows twanged close by, arrows hummed past her, and still she couldn't see.

At last stillness came, and with it weeping. Peachyra sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking rapidly. And what her clearing vision showed her was Panthro, on his knees sobbing, cradling the blackened body of Cheetara in his arms. Mumm-Ra was nowhere to be seen.

"She-she jumped in front of us," Benni said weakly. "Just before-"

Peachyra nodded as she got to her knees beside her friend. The smell of scorched hair was thick, and she could see smoke rising from the cheetah's corpse.

"You were right, Cheetara. The price has become too high, " Tygra said softly , kneeling beside Panthro.

Then he turned to Peachyra and said, "Only two of you left, the weakest at that, and still you've won, all because I can't bear my friends' blood on my hands. I'll shut off my device, you can call everyone back. Just..." He hesitated, then said, "Just remember, this was all my idea, the others just went along with it. So when you come for retribution, it's me you want." Then he sagged, head hung in utter defeat.

"You never answered my question," Peachya said softly. "Why? Were we that cruel to you?"

Tygra was quiet a long time, and when he spoke it was to the ground, not her.

"When you were young, did you ever wonder what your toys did when you weren't playing with them?"

Peachyra blinked at this. "Uhm, I suppose I did at some point?" she replied.

"We are your toys," Tygra said. "All of us. When you all return to your homeland, this 'Mundania' you speak of from time to time, we remain. This is our homeland, our 'Mundania'. And here we have our own lives. We fight, we strive, and sometimes," he paused and glanced over his shoulder at Pumyra. "Sometimes we fall in love."

"It's not the stories that bother us," he continued, looking at Peachyra directly now. "We are characters, so I suppose it's what we were created for. It's that, when you come here, we cease to be who we are, and instead become what you imagine us to be. I do not play at being Thundera Tiger's lover; I become Thundera Tiger's lover, and my own love for Pumyra is forgotten until Tee Tee releases me.” He clenched his fists, and Peachyra could hear the tendons creak with the strain. “It is bad enough to play at loving another, but to make me LIKE it!!"

"I have betrayed every ideal I hold sacred today. Truth, justice, honor, loyalty, I would have forsaken them all for the chance to be my own person, a free soul. Until Cheetara reminded me that all of these are nothing without love, the sort of love that will endure anything for the sake of the beloved. Even death. Even hell itself."

He seemed to slump, exhausted. Peachyra felt the strange serenity on her dissipate, and in it's place came a sense that the witnessing was at an end.; the rest was hers. She did not speak for a long time, feeling the eyes of the assembled characters and her fellow author boring into her. At last she spoke.

"I could give you back your honor, Tygra. I could make you forget all of this, make it as if it never happened," she said. "But I'm not going to do that. If you feel you've betrayed your ideals, part of being a free soul is coming to terms with what you've done."

"But," she said, reaching out and putting her hand on the Thundercat's shoulder. "I think I can give you the chance to do it."

********

"I don't know about this," Thundera Tiger frowned. "You're sure it won't restrict my writing?"

"That's the beauty of it," Peachyra said, beaming out at the ressurected authors of TCATGR, assembled in a classroom at the Berbil Junior High School. "It only affects how the characters percieve the story, not how we write it. To us, it's transparent."

"Perhaps if you are explaining one time more?" Spark said.

Peachyra thought for a few moments, then said, "When we come here, we all play a role we made for ourselves. Ayanna plays a cheetah, Shark plays a merman, Fianna plays a nincompoop-"

"No, he's not playing, he really is a nincompoop," Kam called, eliciting several giggles and one "Hey!"

Peachyra waved for quiet, then continued. "Let's take Tygra as an example, since he's always at the center of things around here. He'll still do everything your story demands, even RD's sicko stuff. Use him, abuse him, kill him, whatever. But now he sees it the same way we do, a role he plays. He still retains, in his own mind, his own identity," she paused and smiled out at the tiger where he sat beside Tee Tee. "His own free soul."

Murmurs went through the crowd as the recently revived authors discussed the meaning of this change. Peachya looked out at the group. She saw Benni leaning happily on her brother's shoulder as he affectionately stroked her mane. She saw Pantrho holding Cheetara's hand at a table by the window. She saw Fianna at the rear, kicked back in his chair, cunching Milkbones from a bowl on the buffet.

Her mind drifted outside to the series of small crosses in the yard, serving as memorials to several authors who had chosen not to return. Fuzzball, Fluffy, Tatiana, Lady Thundera, Slinky and Cheezey, all gone for their own reasons. Her heart ached a little that she'd not gotten to know them better before they left, but somehow, it seemed worth it to her.

"Personally, I think it's a wonderful idea," RD suddenly announced, snapping her out of her reverie. "It opens up entirely new venues for Tygra torture. Imagine, I can dismantle his personality, shred his inner self, tear at his, uhm, why are you shaking your head?"

Peachyra smiled. "Even if you try, it only affects your own story, so Tygra will just play along. But it won't have any effect on his reality."

Rivero glared at her, then snorted. "Curses, foiled again," he said and sat down to a chorus of chuckles.

"I think it's kind of nice," TT said to Tygra beside her. "It's almost like you're my peer instead of my puppet. Of course, you could have just told me what was bothering you."

Tygra smiled. "I wasn't sure if-"

"No, you misunderstand," she snarled dangerously. "You COULD have just TOLD me!"

Tygra got the hint, and broke for the window, crashing through and out onto the lawn, TT right behind him.

After the laughter settled down, Peachyra said, "Now we're ready for the entertainment portion of our meeting, a tribute to someone who's cornball ideas about the physics of our world made all of this possible - Fianna!"

The caninoid perked up at the mention of his name, swallowed a mouthful of milkbone and said, "Really, that's not nescessary, but thank you all for the treats, they're very good!"

"I‘m glad you like them," Kamanchee said, grinning slyly. "I made them myself."

Fianna stopped in mid-crunch, realizing that everyone was staring at him. "Uh-oh," he said and tried to stand up, only to collapse back into his seat in a hail of cookie bits.

"What the hell?!" he yipped.

"Relax old fellow," Kam said. "Just a mild paralytic, that's all. We don't want you to miss one single moment of your tribute."

Everyone was getting up. From below the table, Zhie pulled a canister of liquid nitrogen and waited for Smithers to screw a sprayer onto it. RD produced a device unnervingly like an electric hot dog cooker. Kam, Ax and Spark were each fingering a battle axe, longsword and metal club respectively. Near them sat Sher Kahn, accompanied by Nayda, who was cheerfully sharpening her knife on a whetstone.

The door opened to admit Shark and Thunderwolf, who walked through the cheering crowd and stopped in front of Fianna. Each of them was carrying a twenty pound sledgehammer on his shoulder.

As the others pressed in, Thunderwolf called out to them. "Sing along if you know the words!"

"...yipe..." Fianna whimpered weakly as Thunderwolf and Shark hefted their hammers aloft and everyone joined in on the first swing..

"IIIII've been working' on the raaaailroooad, aaaaal the live-long daaaay!!"

The End.

---

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