Nobody Knows The Tribbles I've Seen...

"Incoming space vehicle," Red-Eye reported from his usual post on the Skytomb's command deck. "I don't recognize the make."

Which meant it wasn't Lunatac, Thunderan, or Plundarrian. "On screen," Luna ordered, looking up from her magazine ( an outdated Lunatac Cosmo-equivalent. She was doing the quiz - Fine-Tune Your 'Mr Right' Radar; Get That Mantenna Working For You. )

The ship that appeared on the viewscreen couldn't even be called a ship at all. It looked like a train. "Strange," said Luna, raising an eyebrow. "But not terribly important. It doesn't look like any sort of threat, and we probably can't use the parts for anything." With that, she returned to her quiz. ( "5) You ditched your last boyfriend because he didn't have enough: a) Sense to say 'I love you' after you said it. b) Energy to satisfy you sexually as often as you wished he would. c) Ambition. He was perfectly content with his junior position." With a snicker, Luna circled 'b'. )

Red-Eye spoke again: "It's landing."

"What? Only idiots come to Darkside willingly," Luna announced, mentally including her crew but excluding herself. "I suppose we should check this out. Stay here and warn us if you pick up on any traps, Red-Eye. I'll go see who's not on shift."

* * *

About five minutes later, Luna, Amok, Chilla, and Psychro went outside to check out the train from space. Automatically not trusting anyone who would come to Darkside rather than any other place on Third Earth, they kept an eye out for any traps, and also stayed about ten feet from one another. Too far apart to be taken down with a single attack, close enough to lend immediate aid.

A human male, middle aged, dressed in some sort of body armour and with a crow on his shoulder, got up from where he was sitting and walked over to Luna and Amok. Bowing deeply ( but never taking his eyes from the aliens ), he said, "Welcome, Lunatacs. I am Captain Bragg, proprietor of the world of wonders that is the circus train."

"Circus train, huh?" Luna asked. Chilla and Psychro had wandered off to inspect the vehicle, and the crow followed Chilla. "Why land here?"

"Ah," said Bragg happily, "You wonder why I come to this most dreary corner of Third Earth instead of somewhere brighter. Well, ma'am, I thought that this Darkside was in the most need of cheer." When Luna still didn't look convinced, he motioned her to follow. "Come, come, I'll show you that I mean well."

Meanwhile, around the other side of the train, Psychro had cheerfully broken into the vehicle's engine and was looking it over. He was just trying to figure out what sort of warped designer would give an interplanetary craft button controls when he heard a shout behind him: "Hey! You aren't supposed to be in here!"

Psychro whirled and saw the crow peeking down at him from a perch near the ceiling. The fact that the bird talked didn't faze him; he'd seen weirder things on Third Earth. "Take off. I'm not going to hurt it." With that, he returned his attention to the controls. 'BASH'? 'CTW'? What the hells does 'CTW' mean? 'Control Train Wobble'?

"I'm warning you, Lunie," preened the crow, "The Professor's the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. He'll have you in the primate house before you can say, 'I wish I didn't talk back to Crownan.'"

"And I told you to get lost," Psychro reminded the bird, and backed it up with a short burst of flame.

Crownan squawked and flapped furiously, but his tailfeathers still got a bit singed. Indignant, he flew out the door, intent on reporting to Captain Bragg that their intended prey was getting into mischief. However, his attention was caught by the blue female. "Hey, put that down! Didn't your momma ever tell you not to play with other people's toys without permission?"

Chilla ignored the talking bird, instead continued to fiddle with the small remote control she had found on a circular platform with a tarpaulin on it. The tarpaulin covered something large and lumpy, but the icewalker didn't bother with it. The remote didn't seem to control the cages ( which all looked empty, anyway ), and Chilla was curious as to what it did do.

After spitting a stream of ice at the flying annoyance ( she missed, but the crow left ), Chilla went back to fiddling with the remote control. With a quiet 'whirr' and the semi-ominous rustle of thick plastic, the tarpaulin began to rise.

And dance.

When the movements didn't change for a couple of minutes, Chilla yanked the tarpaulin from the object. Hnh. A mechanical, dancing polar bear. I wonder what else this thing can do...

"Another reason I came here was in hopes that the Darkside had some interesting fauna I could take back to Way Out Back," Bragg said, gesturing to one of the empty cages. "Anything you can recommend?"

"There's lava pythons," said Luna, though not because the snakes were particularly interesting. One of the pythons had almost eaten her at one point, so anything to get rid of them was fine by her.

After a few minutes they reached the last car; a particularly gaudy affair with a built-in organ. Without asking if Luna had any particular interest in hearing anything, Bragg sat down and began to play.

Several things happened at once. One of the organ pipes extended towards Luna and Amok, but the guardian leapt aside and dodged the pink gas that issued from it. Luna shouted, "Chilla! Psychro! It's a trap!" The crow flew over the nearest empty cage-car, which seemed to explode as a polar bear came crashing through it. Seconds later, the other two Lunatacs ran around the train to see what was happening.

"Er... it's all a misunderstanding..." started Bragg as Amok and a mechanical polar bear advanced on him. Then he broke into a run for the engine. As the train took off, the polar bear ran and jumped onto one of the cars.

Luna dusted her hands off in a satisfied manner. "Well, that was exciting, I suppose... what's that?" she asked, pointing to a small container.

"It looks like some sort of small animal carrier," said Chilla. "It must have fallen out of the damaged car."

Psychro went over to it, peered into the little window, then opened it. Some thin, cold mist spilled out. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. It's a little fuzzy thing," he announced, holding the fist-sized animal. It had no visible eyes, ears, mouth, legs... well, anything. It was merely a ball of fur.

"Looks more like something the cat coughed up," said Chilla dismissively. "Let's put it out of its misery and be done with it."

"Aw, how can you say that?" teased Psychro, "It likes you." Indeed, the creature was purring happily. "Anyway, I think 'Karis will get a kick out of this thing," he said, referring to his sister. "And if she doesn't, well, you know how Red-Eye likes to experiment with his cooking..."

* * *

"'Karis? Got something for you."

Psikaris looked up from her computer with an expression of curiousity. "What is it?"

Her brother smiled and removed the purring furball from a pocket in his vest. "I don't know, but it seems friendly enough."

She accepted the little creature, smiling quizzically as she turned it over in her hands. "Which way is up for this thing?"

"Set it on a table and see if it rights itself," shrugged Psychro. Psikaris followed the suggestion after clearing a few papers off her desk, and let out an involuntary squeak of joy when the furry body rolled over and 'walked' around a bit.

Curious, she picked it up again, peering intently at its underside. "But it doesn't have any legs or anything. Cilia, maybe?"

"Hey, don't question the l'il fuzzy thing."

"Any idea what it eats?"

"When you find its mouth, I'll tell you."

* * *

Psikaris never spent much time in Skytomb's control room, being more a behind-the-scenes person, usually tinkering with the engines or doing random repairs. However, she wasn't terribly surprised at Luna's order the next day to report to that room. Things were always going haywire in Skytomb, and the rest of them were likely busy with the engine modifications.

The massive doors opened and the ice hybrid stepped into the control deck. "Yes, Luna? What seems to be the problem?"

Amok turned, the effect being it looked like Luna swivelled in her chair. In one hand was a little fuzzball, which she was stroking absently. "I don't really care if you keep pets in my fortress," she said, "but keep them out of the machinery."

The engineer managed to catch the little furry thing when Luna tossed it to her. "Sorry, Luna. I don't know how it got out of my room... wait. This isn't my pet. Mine was light brown." The one she currently held was more of a gray tinge.

Luna scowled. "Odd. Psychro only brought the one. Maybe another was thrown from the train?" she mused.

"But how fast do they move? And how long would one last in Darkside? It's been two days, and we took off immediately after the train left," Psikaris said.

"Don't tell me your little monster had kittens."

"It's a possibility," admitted Psikaris. "I'll take this one and my pet to Alluro. Maybe he can figure it out."

* * *

When Psikaris handed Alluro the little furry thing, he immediately checked it for feet. Upon finding none, he shrugged and set it down. "You want me to do a maternity test on your pet? Easy enough, I suppose." Then comparing the two critters he said, "If your original pet is the mother, these creatures of yours grow extremely fast."

"I can't think of any other way for another to have gotten into the Skytomb in the first place," said Psikaris. "Thanks for your help, Alluro." With that, she turned and left the lab.

Alluro placed the little furballs in separate cages, and set about looking for the proper equipment. He was mildly annoyed when he found a third fuzzy thing purring happily in a cabinet.

* * *

How beeg a leetter deed that one leettle monster have? wondered Tug-Mug as he removed yet another purring furball from where it was nestled in the wall separating the hangar from the furnace room. That area was a favourite hang-out of the furry things; apparently the furnace room itself was too hot. Well, Tug-Mug supposed that with all that fur, it made sense.

Sometimes the stupid little things would black out parts of the Skytomb, not by chewing through the wires, but by touching already exposed ones. Then it was usually up to Red-Eye ( or someone with a flashlight ) to find the damaged junction, remove the charred fuzzy thing, and fix the wiring.

Tug-Mug had his own reasons for being in the hangar. Part of it was to find some tools he needed elsewhere, but part was because he had discovered years ago that the air vent leading from the furnace room was the perfect temperature for thawing Red-Eye's not-so-famous Candyfruit Dip. The recipe was originally supposed to be something else, but it was later discovered to go well on potato chips. Well, Tug-Mug thought so.

So he was extremely annoyed to stick his hand into the vent and remove a fuzzy thing. And another. And another.

Stacking a couple crates against the wall as a platform, Tug-Mug jumped up and peered into the shaft. Several fat furballs purred smugly around an empty jar, but they squeaked and scattered when the Lunatac made a grab for them. Tug-Mug jumped down from his makeshift scaffold and grabbed a fuzzball that was too slow to get away. Maybe he could talk Red-Eye into inventing Furball Dip...

* * *

The Skytomb landed with its usual rusting grace where the circus train had originally landed. After various people made searches, it was Knave who found what they were looking for. Handing it up to Luna, he said, "Here's the carrier the fuzzy came in, for all the good it will do."

"It's a miniature cryogenic chamber," Luna said, inspecting it. Frankly, Luna was hoping for instructions, or maybe a 'Teach Your Fuzzball the Joys of Contraception' manual, but found neither. There was a word printed across the side, though: "Tribble," read Luna. So, now The Enemy had a name.

* * *

"Don't tell me about your tribbles! I have tribbles a-plenty of my own!" Alluro shouted, hitting the table once for emphasis, narrowly missing a furball. It was five days after the first tribble had been brought on board, and the Skytomb was now filled with the things. No amount of extermination seemed to work; for every critter killed, there were ten hiding in the air vents. A meeting had been called to address the problem.

"Cool your jets, Alluro," Luna directed. "We've got the same problems. Now, if anyone has any brilliant suggestions on how to rid ourselves of these little things..."

"If we did, we'd have implemented it already," Chilla hissed, blowing a fine stream of mist.

"They make good target practice, if you toss them in the air first," said Knave.

"They make a nice stew," added Red-Eye.

"Eef we find one thee right colour, Allooro could have a weeg," snickered Tug-Mug.

"I tend to just put them in the room of whomever I'm most displeased with at the time," said Mystan.

"They get into everything. Even I'm starting to get sick of them," said Psikaris.

"Maybe we could start an earmuff factory..."

"Or rig up a catapult and lob them at people we don't like..."

"Or skin them and start a new fashion craze..."

"I'd say dump the lot of them in the furnace and be done with it, but you know how burning hair smells..."

"Let's geeve a boxful to Mumm-ra. Serve heem right for sealeeng us een lava..."

"Attach ropes to them and play tetherball..."

"Or get five and make one of those perpetual-motion swinging-whacky-ball desk-toys..."

"Shoot a bunch with the gravity carbine and make little hairy balloons..."

"Hnh. And I've just been using them to dust," said Psychro, idly petting one of the things.

Luna snapped her riding crop at the ice hybrid. "I blame this mess on you, Psychro. You're the one who brought the original tribble on board."

The ice hybrid made a face at her. "Well, how was I supposed to know the things would breed like drunk wollos?"

That was true, unfortunately. Luna re-directed her attention to Alluro. "Well, what have you learned about them?"

"Depressingly little," sighed the hypnotist. "They seem to be designed for reproduction and not much else."

"Gee, reminds me of some people I know," Knave chuckled. "Not naming names of course, Psychro."

"Poor baby," Psychro drawled. "Feeling frustrated because Robear Belle rejected you again?"

"She said you tired her out."

"Why you little..."

"Both of you shut up!" Luna shrilled. "Alluro, continue your report."

Alluro looked put out by the interruptions, but went on with it. "Near as I can tell, they're born pregnant. Their DNA is quite interesting, though. It has some random factors in it, which explains the variation in the creatures. Without this random factor, each creature would be a clone of its mother, and every tribble in Skytomb would be the same. The average litter is nine, and given a food supply, they have these litters in twelve hours. Fortunately, they can only breed once."

"Could we fumigate the Skytomb?" asked Luna. "Find some air-borne poison and kill them off?"

"Sure, and you can clean dead furballs out of everything," Chilla said with a rasping chuckle.

Red-Eye nodded. "I can find them, but not if they're dead. I track them by their body heat." Then, "Could Alluro hypnotically control them?"

"I haven't tried," Alluro admitted, mentally kicking himself for not attempting before. Focusing his attention on one furball he pointed and said, "Go. Go jump off of the edge of the table."

The tribble purred and rubbed up against Alluro's hand.

"Damn," sighed Alluro.

"No accounting for taste," observed Knave, who turned and glared when one of the tribbles was bounced off the back of his head.

Psychro grinned. "Oops. Hand slipped."

"Slip this," snapped Knave, throwing the furball right back.

Needless to say, within five minutes the Lunatacs were all throwing the tribbles at one another. A general truce was called when everyone realized how ludicrous they were acting, and were subsequently laughing too hard to fight. The Lunatacs smoothed their hair and straightened their clothing, carefully avoiding eye contact with one another on the unspoken agreement that the incident never actually happened.

After catching her breath and patting her hair back into place, Luna asked, "Well, now what?"

* * *

The Thunderkittens found the box on the front steps of Cat's Lair. It was an ordinary cardboard box, about two feet square and one foot deep, with airholes along the sides. A soft purring emanated from inside, and scrawled on the side in black marker was: "tRiBBLEs. fREE tO a GoOd home." About a third of the letters were backwards.

WilyKit leaned down, opened the box, and squealed in delight. "WilyKat! Come look! Aren't they adorable?"

WilyKat took the proffered furball, which started purring even louder. "I'll say. Do you think they'll let us keep them?"

"We'll never know until we ask," said WilyKit sensibly.

* * *

Cheetara had the morning shift and Tygra was doing minor repairs in the control room, so it was they to whom the tribbles were presented. "We found them on the doorstep. Please can we keep them? We'll take care of them! Promise!"

"Slow down there, Kit," said Tygra, holding up his hands. "Let's see what you've got there."

"The box calls them 'tribbles'," explained WilyKat, who was holding said box.

The tiger took the box and set it on a table before peering inside. Six little furballs peered back. Or would have, if they had eyes. "Curious little things."

"They seem harmless enough," admitted Cheetara, picking one up. The tribble cooed. "And they are cute."

"I don't know..." Ever since the Thundercats had arrived on Third Earth, Tygra noticed a pattern. If they trusted something right off, it would cause them trouble. If they distrusted it, it would be helpful later. Which unfortunately meant that, if they kept to the pattern, if he told the kittens to get rid of the tribbles, it would be mean. If he allowed them to stay, they would cause no end of trouble.

But he distrusted them, so maybe they were okay.

And besides, they were just furballs. What harm could they do?

"All right," he agreed finally. "But remember, you have to take care of them."

"We promise!" chorused the twins before running back to their room with their prize.

* * *

"The Thundercats have taken the bait," Mystan reported from a monitoring station. The Lunatacs had hidden cameras in Cat's Lair and the Tower of Omens. It was assumed the Thundercats had hidden cameras in Skytomb.

"Good," said Luna. She actually had a reason for sending the cats a box of tribbles, other than annoying them. The Thundercats had an uncanny ability to do things better than the Lunatacs. Thus, Luna intended on doing whatever the cats did to get rid of them. And since Lion-O and his stupid sword weren't around ( another jaunt to New Thundera ) to pull a magical tribble-clearing spell, the Lunatacs shouldn't have any trouble copying them.

Unfortunately, it would take a few days before the cats realized they had a problem.

* * *

Two days later, Red-Eye plodded up to the control deck. "We have another problem, Luna. The tribbles have eaten most of our supplies." He decided against telling her how he found this out. He also made a mental note to replace the overhead storage bins with something more sensible.

Luna let out a screech of frustration. "Arrgh! If it's not one thing, it's another! Take us to the Berbil Village, we can raid... No, dammit, we can't." Both the Lunattacker and the Ice Runner had been trashed beyond repair months ago. Skytomb was the Lunatacs' only working vehicle, and also their only chance at getting to the Moons. The last thing Luna wanted to do was risk damaging it, which would certainly happen if the cats attacked.

"Ah, hells," Luna swore. "We're going to have to do things the nice way..."

* * *

Well, the vaguely nice way. Skytomb landed ( not on a Berbil, for a change ), and before the Berbils could react ( they were too stunned by not being shot at ), Knave ran out, grabbed Robear Bill, and sprinted back into Skytomb. Ten minutes later, Robear Bill emerged and announced that the Lunatacs were their friends, and that the Berbils should help them.

For her part, Psikaris complained a bit at the rush job she had to put into rewiring Robear Bill. She was an artist, she declared, and such things shouldn't be hurried. Luna told her she would be the Artist Currently Known As Mud if she didn't step on it. They had to have the Berbils on their side before the Thundercats showed up.

So the loading of supplies was well underway when the Thundercats finally came. Mystan dropped his clipboard when a striped arm caught him around the throat. "Stop right there, Lunatac!"

"Unhand me, you furry savage!"

"Rrowl, you started it by picking on these defenceless Berbils," Bengali retorted.

"Twit. We are carrying out a peaceful transaction. I would rather not have to use force."

"Wait, Bengali," said Cheetara, running over from the Thundertank. "They aren't attacking. The Berbils seem to be working of their own free will."

The snow tiger reluctantly let go of the Lunatac, who straightened his scarf and levitated his pencil and clipboard back into his hands. Barely giving Cheetara the slightest look, Mystan said, "Thank you. Yes, we decided that instead of expending the energy in a raid, we would merely ask for supplies. Amazing what a well-placed 'please' will do."

Bengali shook his head in amazement. Cheetara took a few seconds before answering, "Um, I guess that's okay, if that's true..."

"Ask any of the Berbils," replied Mystan curtly.

Around the Berbil Village, the various Thundercats were trying to figure out what to do about the Lunatacs. They weren't causing trouble. They were merely on a supply run, one that the Berbils agreed to. There were no damaged Berbils or houses or anything.

Needless to say, it made Tygra extremely suspicious. Even if there was no justification to chase Skytomb back to Darkside, he wasn't going to leave until the Lunatacs did.

Panthro went back to the Thundertank, intending to move it closer to the Village, but the engine sputtered twice and died. Grumbling, the panther walked around his vehicle, and pulled a tribble out of the exhaust pipe. The lousy things had been getting into everything since the kittens took them in. He considered running the tribble over with the Thundertank as a sort of poetic justice, but it started purring at him. "Aw, dang blast it," he sighed, and stood up.

And found himself looking directly into the green eyes of a Lunatac.

The panther jumped back in surprise, electing a grin from Psychro, who was crouching on the back of the Thundertank. "Catmobile giving you trouble?"

"At least our vehicles still work."

"No thanks to you and yours," retorted Psychro, though without any real malice. "We're feeling lazy and being evil takes energy. Come on, the Berbils make pretty good booze for a bunch of robot bears."

Panthro shrugged, tossed the tribble into a storage compartment, and followed the Lunatac.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Luna ( well, Amok ) paced angrily in front of her crew ( at least, Alluro, Knave, Psikaris, Psychro, and Tug-Mug. ) Their mission had been a success, mostly. They had their supplies, but... "You idiots! I ordered you not to pick fights! I don't care who you lot say started it, but I'm willing to bet it wasn't a Thundercat. Who threw the first punch, Alluro?"

"I don't know," Alluro replied, shrugging in a way that said he did know, but didn't care to tell.

Luna snapped her riding crop in the air. "It was you, wasn't it, Knave?"

The ice cheetah merely looked annoyed. "Not this time, Luna."

The Lunatac princess sighed. She knew her crew could lie until they were blue in the face ( and some already were ), so direct questioning wouldn't work. In any case, the damage was done and it was fortunately minimal. "All of you are on tribble-catching duty until further notice. Dismissed," she said. Then, "Not you, Psikaris."

Psikaris stopped, but cringed slightly. Luna knew very well that the hybrid engineer was almost as incapable of lying as a Thundercat. "All right, Psikaris. Who started it?"

"The Thundercats provoked it. They're as bad as Lunatacs once they've had a few drinks," Psikaris said, wrinkling her nose.

"Who threw the first punch?" Silence. Luna continued, "It was your brother, wasn't it?"

"No, Luna," Psikaris immediately said in Psychro's defense. "True, we had to hold him back a couple times, but he didn't do it."

Luna was rapidly losing patience. "Who started it!?"

"Ah..."

"Oh, great Yerith, not you."

"Panthro had it coming," she mumbled, looking at her feet.

* * *

Knave tossed a tribble into the air, and smacked it with a ping-pong paddle. The furball arced through the air, hit the wall, fell through a netted hoop tacked to the wall, and into a box on the floor. The box was already half full.

For her part, Chilla would merely pick up the tribbles and drop them in the box. "This will take years," she griped. "They breed faster than we can throw them out. We need a way to flush them out all at once."

"Maybe we can at least blast the ones out of the air vents," - toss, thwack, thud, swish, squeak - "By setting the air-conditioning on overload for a couple of minutes."

"They seem to like it warm. We could turn off the furnace and perhaps they would leave to find a more temperate environment."

Toss, thwack, thud, swish, squeak. "With our luck, they'd just go into hibernation."

"At least they wouldn't be breeding then."

* * *

Cat's Lair had started to reach Critical Tribble Mass. At least, that's what it was called after Tygra made the mistake of using the term 'critical mass' within earshot of the Thunderkittens. The little monsters were breeding like drunk tellurians. By now, the tiger was all for killing the little furballs slowly and painfully, and even though he figured the 'Justice' part of the Code of Thundera would back him up, he knew it wouldn't be right. And even if they could catch all of the tribbles, what could he do with them if he couldn't exterminate them?

Well, first they had to catch all the tribbles. After that, well, Cat's Lair had a big long-range teleporter. Maybe he could ship the lot of them to Exile Isle or Way Out Back...

Way Out Back! Captain Bragg! Bragg was supposed to be a great bounty hunter ( well, he had gone after the Lunatacs but got chased out of Darkside by his own mechanical polar bear ), maybe he would have a way to catch the tribbles.

Tygra went to the intercom, brushed a few tribbles off of it, and sent out a signal to the circus train. A few seconds later, Captain Bragg and Crownan the Wonder Crow appeared on the screen. "Greetings, Tygra. What can Captain Bragg do for you?"

The Thundercat held up a furball. "Ever see one of these things before?"

"It's a tribble. They come from a planet on the galactic fringe."

Bragg looked like he was going to say more, but Tygra cut him off. "Great. Cat's Lair is infested with the little creatures, and we were hoping you knew how to get rid of them."

"'Rid of them'?" asked Bragg. "You can't 'get rid of' tribbles. They breed like drunk Lunatacs unless their food supply is cut off. Even then, they all just die off and you're stuck picking fuzzies out of your machinery for weeks."

Crownan preened a bit. "They make good eating, though."

"Shut up, you," Bragg directed. "As I was saying, I had one of the little rascals in cryogenic hibernation, but the car I was carrying it in got trashed by those Lunatacs. The carrier fell out."

"Will you help us get them out of Cat's Lair?"

"I'd love to, my boy, but my feet hurt and my cousins are coming over. Good day." The connection flicked off.

Tygra narrowed his eyes at the blank screen. Some help Bragg was... wait. If the tribble carrier was lost in a fight with the Lunatacs, it meant that it was the Lunatacs who set the tribbles upon the Thundercats. But there were six in the box the kittens brought in, and the average litter seemed to be about ten...

Cheetara and Panthro found Tygra on the floor of the command centre, laughing. It took five minutes for the tiger to calm down enough to explain the joke. Then Cheetara and Panthro were overcome with helpless laughter.

In three days, the tribbles had caused Cat's Lair no end of problems. Skytomb had the wretched things on board for eight...

Finally Tygra said, "Panthro, do we still have any working bugs in Skytomb?"

Panthro pulled himself to his feet while Tygra gave Cheetara a hand up. "Probably." After a few minutes he said, "Payload! What do we want? The control room?"

"Sounds good."

The first camera Panthro tried had its view blocked by something brown and fuzzy. Fortunately, the second one had a clear view.

The Lunatacs weren't hip-deep yet, but they were getting there. Tribbles seemed to cover every available surface. Knave was sweeping a bunch of them into a corner. Red-Eye went nonchalantly about his duties, simply moving the furballs aside when he needed the console they were sitting on. Chilla viciously threw the creatures from the station she had chosen, but they simply bounced off the walls.

Whatever was on the ice woman's screen angered her, for her features twisted into a hateful scowl. She summoned Red-Eye over, who also looked displeased. Then Red-Eye turned, looked directly into the Thundercats' camera, and let loose a bolt of energy from his chestplate. The connection shorted out.

Panthro chuckled. "Well, that was fun while it lasted."

"We still have the camera covered by a tribble," Cheetara reminded him.

"That, and we know the Lunatacs have a spy camera in here someplace where they can see our viewscreen," sighed Tygra. "Come on, we can look for it later. Let's just go into the conference room for now."

The Thundercats went to the other room. "Well, at least we know the Lunatacs got it worse than we do," said Panthro.

"Yes, but it also means they haven't found a way to get rid of them, either," Cheetara pointed out, "And they've probably been killing tribbles as fast as they can catch them. We need to get every last one of them. What happened in Skytomb started with only one tribble. If we had some way to lure them..."

"Cheetara! What happened to that double-flute you found on New Thundera? The one that could control the snarfs and Ma-mutt?" Tygra demanded.

"I think Lion-O put it with the Treasure of Thundera. We didn't know what else to do with..." Cheetara started, then broke into a slow smile. "Brilliant, Tygra! I'll go get it!"

Within a minute, the cheetah returned. "This flute could control animals. Maybe it will work on the tribbles!"

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Panthro.

Cheetara took a breath and started to play the strange flute. Within minutes, tribbles were appearing out of various nooks and crannies to roll and purr around Cheetara's feet. "It's working!" exulted Tygra. "Come on, lead them to the teleport platform."

After all the tribbles were assembled ( and it was a lot of tribbles ) on the platform, Panthro asked, "Well? Where do we send them?"

Tygra had already given this quite a bit of thought. "Way Out Back." Serve Bragg right for not helping them.

* * *

"A... magic... flute," said Luna. "The Thundercats used a stupid magic flute! How in the Six Hells are we supposed to do that?"

"We could steal the flute," Psychro suggested.

"Ten to one eet only works for Thundercats," Tug-Mug opined.

"Maybe I could use it," said Knave.

"Maybe we could use static electricity?"

"That is such a Vultureman idea."

"You're supposed to be the great scientist, Alluro," said Chilla, "Could you synthesize a chemical that would attract them?"

"Pheromones," Alluro said, catching on. "It might not work, though. Tribbles are bisexual and reproduce at will. Though I suppose they would take partners if there were any around..." The hypnotist was immediately pelted with furballs. "Well, excuse me for hypothesizing out loud."

"Just get it done." Luna punctuated her order by bouncing another tribble off of him.

* * *

Skytomb landed on a small island in the middle of the ocean. After all being tricked into the elevator, the tribbles were unceremoniously shovelled out. "Are you sure that's all of them, Alluro?"

"Red-Eye and Psikaris are doing final checks with the internal sensors, Luna," Alluro replied, tossing a few more furballs out of the elevator. "They recalibrated them to look into the infra-red to detect their body heat."

Amok swept out the last of the tribbles, and Luna and Alluro went back up to the control room. "Any stragglers we'll just kill on sight," said Luna. "Chilla, let's get back to Darkside."

Skytomb lifted off of the island, and as Chilla plotted the course, Luna said, "You know, it feels wrong to just leave the tribbles on that island... Alluro, charge up the moon cannons."
 
 

The End.