The fiercest pirates the Earth had ever known forged forward into the Nai village. For centuries any town on the coast had been their prey. It was natural, a simple fact of life. If you lived on the shores, you knew that once every few years or so the raiders from the northern seas would arrive, just like a tornado, a plague, or any other natural disaster.

The pirates themselves were more like demonic echoes of the original northern raiders, rather than descendants. As much metal as flesh, they were bulky, angular things, built for strength and terror, and nothing else. They moved quickly, like steel gargoyles, complete with the glaring, angry visages.

"Where are they, are they, are they?" shrieked one of them angrily. There were plenty of buildings to burn, and plenty of loot to be pillaged, but with no victims to brutalize, kill, torture, and rape...well the whole thing seemed rather pointless without that. "Some sort of early warning system, captain?" he asked.

The long bearded captain glared at the empty buildings and raised up a massive, heavy fist to knock one down with a single blow. "Spread out and find them, find them, find them! They must be hiding somewhere. And when we find them, let none live!" The half men all laughed and began spreading out through the streets, turning over grates and rifling through homes.

A smallish one called down to the captain from the spire of a tall building. "Captain Hammerhand, I see a fire, fire, fire!"

Hammerhand grunted in annoyance and looked around for somthing or someone convient to smash with his fist. "I gave no order for the town ta be razed yet! Who set that fire, I'll kills 'im!" the pirate roared. This raiding force was a significant one, three ships and eighty rebuilt men. More than enough to crush resistance, though sometimes some of the rowdier men took it upon themselves to exceed their authority. When he found out who, it would be that many less men they would have to share the loot with.

"No Captain, it's our sails I see burning! Our ships be going down!" When the sentry squinted he could see the glint of the metal roof of a small vehicle racing around their bulky ship's hulls, lobbing fireballs onto the decks and turning the sails into billowing pyres. That was the only way home. They were trapped here, he realized with a gulp.

That was when the low, buzzing howl of the arrow storm started. Men cried out as the shafts rained down into the streets, glancing off metal but penetrating flesh where it was found. The cries of battle began to drift into the streets as the farthest exploring pirates began meeting the walls of heavily armed Wollos, Tabbots, Balkans, Nai, and Tuskas.

"Close the box," ordered Lion-O quietly, motioning his array of troops forward. "Let none live," he echoed Hammerhand's words. There would be no survivors to nurse schemes of return and revenge. This raiding party would simply disappear. The Thundertank had demolished their ships. There was nowhere to run. The longbows of the Warrior Maidens continued to rain death into the center of the town, while the encircling troops fought their way ever inwards, like a closing noose, pushing the embattled raiders back towards the unforgiving ocean.

"What is this, this this!" roared Hammerhand, crushing those few, brave, alliance soldiers who had broken ranks and charged before the line to engage the pirates in the kill zones. He had an arrow jutting out of his fleshly shoulder, and he was beginning to froth at the mouth. How dare they? He would kill them all for this outrage! "You!" he declared with demonic rage when he saw Lion-O cut through the lines and into the killzone.

"Your terror is ended," said Lion-O, striding forward, still in his Tabbot garb. At his request all the Thundercats had abandonned their armor from Jaga, and had each adopted the style of dress of one of their allies. It served to distance them from Jaga, and brought the cats so much closer the people they were fighting with, not the separated elite that they had once been.

The foaming pirate lunged at Lion-O, slamming his massive mechanical fist down with enough force to crush metal and make the ground shudder. Lion-O wasn't there. This wasn't a fight, it was a destruction, pure and simple. Lion-O was fighting on a level so far beyond the heavy handed brutality of the pirate that it would be cruel to let it go on. Quicker than Hammerhand's eyes could follow Lion-O spun behind the over-extended pirate and slashed across his waist.

Blood bubbled up and Hammerhand's upper body toppled over onto the ground lifelessly. His waist and legs slipped back and flopped over in the opposite direction a few moments later. Lion-O's trained eyes glowed softly, peering to see Hammerhand's spirit.

The ghost had been well known. It had travelled from body to body in the past and possessed many hosts, transforming each back into his gruesome likeness. Lion-O grinned softly as he saw the spectre stand over its body, glaring at Lion-O and swearing revenge. "I'll be back, back, back!" it swore.

"No you won't." The ghost looked down at its waist, a shocked horror curling over its face as the etherial flesh around his midsection began to boil away and evaporate into dispersing mist. With a final scream the spectre was

dissolved, and died as real a death as its body had, from the same blow.

Lion-O gave his blade a short, twisted grin. It could cleave even the dead.

Tygra, dressed in the simple threads of the Balkans laid a hand on Lion-O's shoulder, ready to jump back lest the highly strung young lion strike out at him in a battle lust. With relief he noted that Lion-O didn't even flinch towards him. "When will we offer those that are left an opportunity to surrender?" he asked.

"There will be no surrenders. Let them fight to the last man. Pull the Thundercats back, killing is not their way. The other alliance troops can take it from here." Lion-O saw the protest forming on Tygra's lips, but one dark look killed it before it was uttered.

Tygra's mouth was dry, but he nodded and started back, taking in the sight of Lion-O standing before the carnage. "What's next, Lion-O? The mutants vanquished, the Berserkers slaughtered...what's next?" he mused.

"Mumm-Ra," came Lion-O's simple reply.