Dawn's first light filtered through the window into the chamber, heralding the beginning of another long day. Normally, Lion-O would have already been up and dressed. But this morning, he lay in bed, watching the dancing sunbeams and thinking about the night before.

He had not meant it to go so far. As promised, in an effort to get to know Liodella, he had taken her out for a meal. For once, her company had been surprisingly welcome. He seemed to have spent all evening pouring his heart out to her. She was a good listener, content to let him ramble on about his woes, passing neither judgement or offering false sentiment. In just a few hours, he had felt more drawn to her than in the whole past month of their marriage. The candlelight had given her a glow that he had not noticed before and her sweet smile had done pleasing things to his insides. So when they returned home and she had pulled him into a passionate embrace, he had not resisted. One kiss had led to another and before he knew what was happening they were in bed, unable to deny the rising need between them. Except in the midst of their fever, a little voice had whispered in his ear and his enthusiasm had died. Humiliated beyond belief, he had had to apologise profusely. She had taken it well enough, and had been content to cuddle up to him and drift into an easy sleep.

With the coming of morning, she was still there, snuggled up to him, her head in the crook of his arm and her hands resting lightly on his chest. He gazed down at her, envying her peace and hating himself for it. Something had to be wrong with him, he decided. Last night, she had responded to him with such ardour that he had been swept up in the heat of the moment. Then that little voice, his conscience, had put a damper on things. You only want to use her, it had whispered. Not very honourable for the Lord of the Thundercats, is it? The long night had passed and it had still not let up. You don't love her, it chided. You just want heirs. For shame, Lion-O, oh, for shame...

Giving up on any pretence of sleep, he rubbed his eyes with his free hand and sighed deeply. The change in his breathing made Liodella stir. She blinked and looked up at him with sleepy eyes.

"Good morning," he said. "Did I disturb you?"

"Only slightly," she said, smiling. "How are you this morning?"

"Embarrassed."

"Don't be silly," she said. "It can happen to anyone. You've been under a lot of stress lately. Now things are easing up, you'll be all right, I'm sure." She shifted her weight from his numb arm and slid on top of him. She folded her arms on his chest and gazed down into his eyes. "Still, we had some fun last night, didn't we?"

He returned her smile and on impulse reached up to brush her tousled mane from her face. She caught his hand and kissed it.

"You know it is still early," she said, the light of mischief twinkling in her eyes. "You don't have to go yet, do you?"

"I should."

"They can manage an hour or so without you," she whispered. She pressed her lips to his and as her tongue explored his mouth, her hands gently traced his firm contours down the length of his body. "You will stay, won't you?" she purred, when she finally let him up for air.

"How can I resist?" he said, rolling her over onto her back. Soft cries escaped her parted lips as he worked his way down her body with his mouth, experiencing his own pleasure with hers and reducing the little voice to a low discontented murmur at the back of his mind. Feelings of arousal tingled through his body, urging him on. If he was using her, he at least owed it to her to make their time together as enjoyable as possible. He would have to live with the guilt later.

Then, somewhere in the background, he became dimly aware of a high-pitched, drawn out rendering of his name. He ignored it and tried to concentrate on the business at hand. Then it came again, louder, closer, more hysterical. Seconds later, there was a pounding on the door of the room.

"Ignore it," he said gruffly. But the shrieking and banging persisted. The moment had been spoilt once again. "Blast it all!" he muttered, angrily thumping one of pillows. "I'm sorry, Liodella."

She nodded. "I understand."

"Bless you," he said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. Scrambling out of the bed, he snatched up his bathrobe and quickly wrapped it around himself. Then, opening the door, he glared down at the inconvenient visitor. "Well, Snarfer, what is it?" he demanded.

"Lion-O, you've got to come, quickly, now!" Snarfer insisted. "Something terrible's happened, yes sir!" He grabbed Lion-O's hand and tried to drag him from the room.

"What's happened?" said Lion-O tersely, resisting Snarfer's best efforts. The babble that flew from the snarf's mouth made no sense. "Calm down and say that again, slowly."

"The others came back this morning."

"So?"

"Cheetara and Bengali weren't with them!"

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

"What do you mean, missing? How is that possible?"

At the impromptu meeting he had called in the Council Room, Lion-O looked from one worried face to another, waiting with impatience for answers to his questions.

"They've vanished," WilyKat spoke up.

"People don't just vanish," Lion-O said with irritation. Leaving a promising situation and hurrying down to what seemed like a storm in a teacup was seriously trying his patience. He took a deep breath and regarded his friends with annoyance. "Okay, would someone please tell me what this is all about?"

"They didn't come back with us," said Panthro. "As far as I can work out, Cheetara and Bengali left early."

"What do you mean?"

"What he says, I suppose," Snarfer said.

"You said 'as far as I can work out', Panthro. Don't you know?"

Panthro sighed and leaned up against the table. Folding his arms, he fixed his gaze firmly on his feet. "Not for certain. They left in a hurry. Oh, the Feliner was packed and ready to go all right, but I didn't expect them to leave just then."

"Did they give a reason?" Lion-O's question was met with a curt shake of the head. "I see. So how do you know they're missing?"

"Well, they're not here, are they?" WilyKat muttered.

"Don't start, Kat," Lion-O warned him. "It's early and I'm tired. Now, you were saying?"

The cub shrugged and adopted his most sullen expression. "There was this cheetah guy hanging around in the Paw when we got back. He said he was waiting for Cheetara. We told him that she left before us and that she should have got here yesterday morning, but he said he hadn't seen her. So we checked with the central computer and there was no record of them having returned and the Feliner's not here, so they've gone missing. What are we gonna do about it?"

"The Sword of Omens will tell you where they are," Snarfer said confidently. "Yes sir, it'll find them in no time."

"Has the Sword given you any warnings?"

Lion-O looked in WilyKit's direction and shook his head. The kitten had been strangely quiet during the meeting, sitting at the table a few spaces from the equally silent Tygra and listening to their conversation with a strained look on her face.

"No, Kit, no rumblings or anything. But all the same, I'll take a look." He raised the Sword before his eyes and, at his command, the hilt curled and let him into its secrets. After a moment, he let it drop. "Nothing," he said. "I'm afraid I'm none the wiser."

"You can say that again," WilyKat snorted.

Lion-O glared at him, but before he could rebuke the cub, Lynx-O spoke. "The fact that the Sword is unable to help us suggests several possibilities. Either our friends are dead--"

"Don't say that!" WilyKit cried out.

"In which case the Sword would have given Lion-O a warning before now," he continued evenly. "Or it could mean that they have no wish to be found."

"But why wouldn't they want to be found if they're not in trouble?" WilyKit asked. "It doesn't make any sense."

"No, it doesn't," Lion-O agreed. "It's hard to hide from the Sword, unless of course there's evil forces at work."

"Or if the wearer's insignia is removed," Lynx-O said.

"Let's not go down that road again," Lion-O sighed.

"Actually, I was referring to Bengali."

From the corner of his eye, Lion-O caught the look that passed between WilyKat and Panthro, but for the moment decided not to pursue it. "Either way," he said, "we have to find out what happened to them. There's no reason to start panicking. It might be something as innocent as engine failure that's held them back."

"But why would Bengali have taken off his insignia?" said WilyKit.

Lion-O tried to think of plausible answers to that one and had to admit defeat. "All right, I don't know. Maybe he took a shower or something, and forgot to put it back on. He can be forgetful."

"Not where the important things are concerned," Panthro muttered.

"And how could he have a shower on the Feliner?" WilyKit pressed.

Lion-O held his hands up for calm. "When we find him, we'll ask him."

"But how do we find them?" Snarfer asked.

"Even if they can't be found, perhaps the Feliner can. I want teams scanning deep space round the clock. Contact the Caracals. Find out if any of their traders know anything. Don't forget Mandora. She might be able to locate the Feliner if it's adrift somewhere. All right, Thundercats, go to it."

Snarfer and the twins bounded out, heading for the Control Room, followed by Lynx-O. Lion-O made his way to the door, then stopped on the threshold, barring Panthro and Tygra's way.

"Okay you two, tell me what really happened," he said.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Panthro countered.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me that. I want the truth."

"How dare you say that!" Panthro roared. "You forget yourself, Lion-O."

"I saw the look you gave WilyKat, Panthro. You think they disappeared deliberately, don't you? I know Cheetara was talking about getting away, but what about Bengali?"

"He's one of the finest Thundercats you've got. How can you think that of him?"

"Then where are they? You followed them home. Did you come across any sign that they might have had trouble or been attacked?"

The fiery glow died a little in the panther's eyes. "All right, point taken," he conceded. "But it doesn't mean that they've run off somewhere. Not Cheetara and Bengali. Right, Tygra?"

"How should I know?" he muttered.

"What?" Panthro demanded, doing a double take. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't know," said Tygra. "Anyway, it isn't my concern any more."

He started to leave, and, as he pushed by, Panthro caught him by the arm. "What are you doing? Are you really just going to walk away from this, from our friends? What's the matter with you?"

Tygra looked down at the hand on his arm. He carefully peeled back Panthro's fingers, and free once again, he strode from the room.

"Darn it all, what's with him?" Panthro growled. "I can't tell whether he cares too much or too little."

"We'll find them, Panthro," Lion-O said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "Let's go and give them a hand with those long range scans."

"Are you sure I'm welcome? Strictly speaking, the Control Room is out of bounds for an ex-Thundercat."

"Strictly speaking, Cheetara isn't a Thundercat either, but that's not going to stop me looking for her. Are you coming?" He started out of the room, but Panthro seemed inclined to linger. "What is it?"

"Lion-O, I..." he began hesitantly.

"No one will ever know. I certainly won't let on to the Mutants."

"No, it's not that." A moment passed as Panthro fought to put whatever was troubling him into words. Then, with a mighty shrug of his shoulders, he gave up the unequal struggle. "Doesn't matter," he said wearily. "Come on, let's find our friends."

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

Several hours later found Lion-O making his way back to the Council Room with Mandora at his side. The Evil Chaser's expression was more strained than usual and her lips were drawn into a line so thin that they were hardly visible. Lion-O could quite understand why. The news she had brought was hardly encouraging. Having to share it with the others was something he was dreading.

"How do you want to play this, Lion-O?" Mandora asked.

"I'll break it to them, then you can fill in the details," Lion-O said. It was not a prospect he relished, but Mandora had a way of putting things that was blunt to say the least. They entered the room together and Lion-O went to his usual chair, with Mandora taking up position behind him. All eyes turned expectantly in his direction and he took a deep breath before addressing the gathering.

"I'll not beat about the bush," he said. "You all know by now that Thundercat Bengali and Lady Cheetara are missing."

"Shocking, shocking," twittered Histor. The male cheetah at his side, who Lion-O had since learnt was Cheetara's fiancé, Tanis, laid a calming hand on the old cat's shoulder. Not the first time that morning, Lion-O had to forcibly quash his ill feelings towards his newcomer. Tanis appeared genuinely concerned for her welfare, but Lion-O was not convinced. Old fashioned jealousy it might be; all the same, his gut was telling him that something was wrong with this smooth, good-looking fellow. Perhaps he was too smooth and good-looking to be true. Lion-O found himself hoping for Cheetara's sake that his feeling was wrong. Not that it mattered now, he thought.

Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to go on. "With the help of Officer Mandora," he said, "we have located the Feliner." A low murmur of consternation went around the gathering. "It was found at a spaceport called Midas."

"A trading post in the Western Sector," Mandora informed them.

"And what were they doing there?" Mardak asked, the tone of his voice suggesting he had his own opinions about that.

"Control Officers found the ship abandoned," she went on, jumping in before Lion-O could answer. "From what we could tell, its cargo was intact and there was no visible damage. All systems checked out. It seems that it had just been left there."

"And Cheetara?" Tanis asked.

"No sign of them. We asked around, but no one remembered seeing them. That's not so surprising. Midas is a busy port of call. They get a lot of people passing through."

"Do I take it then," Mardak said, "that you're telling us Cheetara and Bengali have, for want of a better term, 'jumped ship'?"

"Forsaken us, that's what she's done," Histor wailed. "Oh, I knew she was wayward, but I never imagined this. And to think you trusted her, Tanis. Oh, the disgrace!"

Voices started to clamour and protest, so that Lion-O had to shout above the din to be heard. "Let us finish. There is more." He glanced at Mandora, who nodded and pulled a disk from her belt pocket. "Appearances, as we all know, can be deceptive."

"I was frankly suspicious," Mandora said. "I know these two and it didn't seem the sort of thing they would do. I had the boys run their gadgets over the Feliner and they found blood in the cockpit. It was Thunderian." Gasps of horror sounded around the table, but Mandora pressed on. "I had them dig a bit deeper and they found that someone had done a good job of patching the ship up. On several sections of the outer hull, they found the energy signatures of Mutant blast weapons. In addition, some of the components didn't match up with Thunderian schematics. Then there's this," she said, tapping the disk in her hand. "Courtesy of an Ursan trader. Seems he was working on his long-range scanners and accidentally recorded this. When he found it, he turned it over to us."

She handed it to Lion-O, and he slotted it into the remote projector that had been set up on the table. A holographic image came up, displaying an otherwise uninteresting view of various stars. Mandora pointed to a small glowing object in the left-hand corner and Lion-O adjusted the projector to home in on it. Closer inspection showed it to be the Feliner, travelling well, the glow coming from its engines. Suddenly the ship came to shuddering halt, as its rear lit up under the impact from energy weapons. As it hung lifeless in space, a larger vessel materialised and closed in on the stricken ship. The Feliner seemed to regain power, but another pulse sent it spinning wildly. Its engines flared and died, accompanied by a sudden fierce glow from the cockpit. The larger ship moved in on its helpless prey, two traplike jaws at the front yawning open to engulf the Feliner, then it sped away out of range. Lion-O switched off the projector and regarded the horrified gathering gravely.

"The ship that attacked them has been identified as Serpentian," he said.

"Mutants," WilyKat hissed from his position over by the window. "They can kiss their peace treaty goodbye for this."

"If they know about it," said Mandora. "Snakes tend to operate outside the usual channels due to the nature of their, er, business."

"And that is?"

"Torture and murder," said Mardak. "I think we can safely say we'll never see them again, certainly not this side of the Astral Plane."

Panthro gave a low growl and thumped his hand against the wall. "We don't know that. I say we find these scum and wring their scrawny necks to find out what they've done with our friends." The realisation dawned on him that he had spoken out of turn and he mumbled his apologies. "That's what I think anyhow."

"It is indeed a violation of the peace," Mardak remarked. "We would be well within our rights to do exactly as our hot-tempered friend has so eloquently suggested. However, I would be unwilling to act before I know the position of the Plun-darrian High Council. If the Serpentians are unaware of the peace, perhaps this unfortunate situation can be resolved without recourse to arms."

"And while we sit twiddling our thumbs waiting for the Mutants to reply, our friends could be being tortured!" WilyKat suddenly yelled, storming over to where Lion-O stood. "Do something!"

"Calm down, Kat," he said.

"Yes, hush, child, and let your elders discuss this sensibly," said Histor irritably.

"You've not said a sensible thing yet!"

Before the old cheetah could reply to the insult, WilyKit rushed over to her brother and fairly dragged the scowling teen cub from the room.

"Good to see our youth retains its fire," Mardak said with some amusement after they had gone. "What is the old saying, Histor? 'From the mouths of cubs...'" Histor glared at him over his glasses, a look the tiger pointedly ignored. "What are your thoughts on the matter, Saturnus?"

Throughout the meeting, the lion had remained silent. This turn of events had clearly shaken him, furrowing his brow with deep lines and darkening his eyes. Now, he started and looked up, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "As you say, Mardak, we must not jump to conclusions. Let us contact Plun-darr. With regard to our fellow Thunderians, Officer Mandora, may I ask what steps are being taken to trace these Serpentians?"

She gave a terse nod and set her lips. "Their ability to mask their ships makes finding them difficult. At the moment, we're operating a policy of scan and search around Plun-darrian space."

"That's a big area," Tygra said.

Lion-O looked over at him, surprised that it had taken him so long to offer any input into the matter. He had fallen silent again and had returned to staring absently out of the window. Lion-O still was not sure if he liked this new attitude of quiet detachment that Tygra seemed to be cultivating. True, he had never been one to make a scene, but the depth of his feelings was usually evident. Once more, Panthro's words came to mind. Whether he cares too much or too little. Too much, surely, Lion-O thought. Of course he cares. But still doubt nagged at him.

"Actually, we've had a bit of luck in that direction," Mandora was saying when he got his attention back to matter in hand. "The Ursans have offered us their help. Seems they feel it reflects badly on them as they helped negotiate this peace. With their greater scanning capabilities, they'll be able to cover a lot more ground than we can."

"I see," Saturnus said, nodding thoughtfully. "And when you apprehend these Serpentians?"

Mandora grunted. "Let's catch them first. Then we'll see."

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

With the meeting at an end, Saturnus had excused himself at the first possible opportunity. Hurrying up to his office, he quickly set up his communicator and re-adjusted the frequency. Several long seconds of uninterrupted static passed before the rasping tones of Commander Scintax came across the open channel.

"Report!" he barked.

"We took the Feliner as you instructed, Overlord," the snake replied. "It was all too easy. We surprised them and--"

"I know all this," Saturnus interrupted him. "You botched it, you half-witted fool! They know it was a set-up. Where are you now?"

"As the prisoners numbered less than expected, I took steps to ascertain the whereabouts of the others. I personally undertook the interrogation of the two prisoners," Scintax said with some pride. "From the information they gave me, I am currently in pursuit of the other Thundercats."

"Then you're wasting your time. They returned to Thundera several hours ago."

A string of Plun-darrian curses sounded in the background fuzz of the channel. "They have deceived me! They will pay dearly for this."

"You have more pressing matters to deal with now," Saturnus said, cutting him short. "Control is out looking for you and the Bears are also on your trail. You'll never make it back to Plun-darr with the prisoners now. You'll be picked up before you get close."

"Then what would you have us do, Overlord?"

Saturnus ground his teeth, thinking furiously. If he had had his way, by now Lion-O's wretched friends would all be safely tucked up on that Serpentian ship, heading to Plun-darr and their deaths. The plan had been so simple. Trust the Snakes to make a mess of it. If only Mandora had not been the first to find the Feliner, their shoddy clean-up work might never have been noticed, or at least not until it was too late. Everyone would have assumed they had left Thundera of their own accord. Now the truth was out, the situation demanded remedial action and fast. For the Serpentians to be captured would be a disaster, not to mention a serious loss of face for their Overlord. That thought rankled the most and proved productive. Seconds later the beginnings of a plan had formed. Saturnus smiled to himself as he relayed his new orders.

"I understand, Overlord," Scintax said. "We will hold at our present position until you send help. I am sending you our co-ordinates."

"Excellent," said Saturnus. "You will be well rewarded for this, Commander."

"Thank you, my lord," said the unwary snake. "Scintax, out."

With that, Saturnus once more changed the communicator's operating frequency. A moment or two later, he was greeted by a gravely voice.

"Slithe?" he said. "Get your men ready. I have a job for you."

He had always thought he quite liked solitude, but as the minutes counted away another long hour, Bengali was fast coming to the conclusion that he had had enough to last him a lifetime. With Cheetara unconscious, he had been left on his own for what felt like forever. For a while, he had amused himself with trying to free his hands from the tightly-knotted ropes, but to no avail. Their captors had been thorough. Any movement caused the ropes to bite deeper into his flesh and now his wrists were a bloody mess. And so, giving up, he had sat and listened to the silence. Now he could bear it no longer. He found himself longing for company. Anyone would do, even Scintax, as noxious as his presence was. He needed chatter, laughter, singing, anything that would fill this place with noise and give him something to think about other than his present situation.

There had been plenty of noise earlier of course, not that he wished its return. He had never heard anyone scream like that. Even now, the memory made his blood run cold. True to his word, Scintax's venom had been devastatingly effective. By the time they had set to work on her leg, he could tell that Cheetara was no longer feeling numb. She had fought it at first, but the pain had become too much and she had screamed and screamed...

Curse them to hell and back, he thought bitterly. He had had to listen to her torment, unable to do much more than entwine his fingers with hers and let her take out her agonies on the flesh of his palms. It had been a blessed relief for them both when she had finally passed out. Since then, she had not stirred. She was slumped up against him, with her head resting on his shoulder, unmoving but for the slight expansion and contraction of her ribcage, which reassured him that she was still breathing. He had cause to be worried. From what he could tell, her condition was worsening. Cold, clammy skin following a raging fever Pumyra had taught him indicated the onset of shock. The pulse he could feel in her fingertips was not reassuring either, with its alarming irregularity, sometimes slow, sometimes rapid, sometimes missing a beat. Slowly, but surely, she was slipping away from him. Soon he would be truly alone. That thought terrified him into action.

As much as he could, he started shrugging his shoulders. Cheetara's head lolled from side to side, and she moaned as she started to come round. Her back stiffened against his and he felt the muscles of her neck tense when she began to move her head.

"Hey," he called softly. "Cheetara, are you all right?"

"No," came a small voice. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Well, I'm not sure," he admitted. "But you can't go back to sleep. I'm fed up making conversation with the sludge."

"I might not be the best company," she murmured.

"Leg still hurt?" He felt her nod against his shoulder. "That's good, isn't it? I mean, you couldn't feel anything earlier and you were worried."

"Oh, yes, I'm really glad," she said. "My situation is so much better now."

Barely had she finished speaking when she cried out and convulsed. He was yanked back and fell against her. Cheetara went limp and would have collapsed had he not been able to halt her fall.

"Cheetara?" he urged. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps and it was a while before she could answer. "My stomach," she moaned. "Pain and..." Every muscle in her body tensed and she lurched forward, gagging violently. After several moments of unproductive vomiting, she fell back against him and started to cry.

"Bengali, I'm afraid," she sobbed. "I don't want to die."

"You won't."

"I will. It's happening."

"Cheetara," Bengali began.

"Please, just talk to me," she whimpered. "I don't want silence. Not now."

"Okay, then, let me call Scintax. He might be able to help you. They don't want us dead, well, not yet anyway, and your condition is getting worse by the minute."

"There's nothing they can do," Cheetara murmured. "Please, Ben, just talk to me."

He sighed, vexed at her stubbornness. But if it was conversation she wanted, that he could manage. "All right, what do you want to talk about?"

She swallowed heavily. "You and Pumyra. What did happen?"

"Oh, that," he grunted. "That's just depressing."

"She told me she caught you kissing another girl."

"I was not kissing her," he replied indignantly. "She kissed me. There is a difference, you know."

She was clearly waiting for an explanation. To his mind, it seemed hardly the time or place. Then again, there was some crazy logic in discussing one hopeless situation while in another. So, taking a deep breath, he began.

"We had arranged to meet for dinner. I was going up the steps of the Lair, when out of nowhere, this girl runs up, kisses me, thanks me for a wonderful evening and runs off. I swear I'd never seen her before in my life." He fell silent for a moment, almost tasting the bitterness of the memories in his mouth. "The look on Pumyra's face, I'll never forget it. I tried to explain, gods know I did, but she wouldn't hear it and went straight back to Third Earth. I kept asking Lion-O to let me go there, but he kept making excuses why I couldn't. Then the other day, when she came back to Thundera, she said it to my face. She hates me."

"She didn't mean it. She was hurt and upset."

"Given our present situation, I would say none of it really matters anymore."

"I believe you, Ben."

"Thanks, that means a lot."

"And I'm sorry."

"For what?" A low sob told him that she had begun to cry again. "Hey, come on, Cheetara, don't give up. We'll get out of this yet."

"This is all my fault," she said. "If you hadn't come with me, you'd be home by now, making up with Pumyra. Instead, you're here with me, and we're both going to die."

"You don't know that," he said. "Where there's life, there's hope."

He felt her shake her head. "No, I'm doomed. I knew I was when I left Thundera. I thought I could run from it, but it found me. Bengali, I'm sorry. It's my fault we're in this mess."

"Cheetara, stop it. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm cursed," she sobbed. "This is happening because I'm getting married."

"That doesn't follow," he said. "I know marriage is going out of fashion, but it's not that bad, whatever Lion-O says." Either way, he thought, he was never going to find out. A miserable death on Plun-darr or a miserable life on Thundera without Pumyra waited. Right now, he wasn't sure which was worse.

His thoughts were disturbed by the sound of a dull clang somewhere in the distance. Vibrations passed through the floor as whatever it was caused the ship to shudder.

"What was that?" he asked. "You don't think we've reached Plun-darr, do you?"

"No," Cheetara said between pained gasps. "We've met up with another ship."

"You can tell that, can you?"

She nodded her head against his shoulder. "Scintax would have been back by now to punish us for lying to him about the others. That he hasn't suggests he doesn't know yet. Or perhaps..."

She stopped abruptly and squeezed his fingers so tightly that he cried out in surprise. He was unprepared for her unsupported weight, so that when she lost all muscle control and succumbed to unconsciousness, he was dragged down to the floor with her. Several moments of trying to rouse her proved fruitless. Fear rose like a baleful ghost and taunted him for his failure to help his dying friend. She had been his one lifeline to sanity. Now he was alone, tied up, blinded, helpless, waiting for whatever fate had in store for him. The good days of Third Earth and the comforting reassurance brought by the closeness of friends and the protection of the Sword of Omens seemed a very long time ago. True, there had been many close calls, but none as desperate as this. This time, he was on his own. He had to do what he thought best. He called for help.

He yelled until his throat became sore and still no one came. All the while, he could feel the pulse in Cheetara's fingers growing ever weaker. She was depending on him, he told himself. He couldn't let her down. And finally when his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whisper, he caught the distant patter of feet. Whoever it was stopped outside the room and unlocked the door. Judging from the sound of footsteps, several people entered and gathered around where he lay.

"Help my friend," Bengali appealed to the newcomers. "She's not well. She--"

The words were brutally kicked from him. The foot that slammed into his chest had claws that stabbed into his skin and knocked the breath from his body.

"Shut it, tiger," came a gruff voice. "You've been busy, Scintax."

The Snake's presence was indicated by a low hissing sound somewhere over to his left. "That's Commander Scintax to you," he said. "As for these two wretches, they lied to me about their friends. For this insult, they will know pain beyond feline endurance."

There was something about the laugh from the other occupant of the room that triggered a faint memory in Bengali's mind. It was familiar somehow. He had definitely heard it before, but where?

"I'm sure that would be most enjoyable," the mystery person said, "but our Overlord has other plans for them, yesss."

"He does? I was not informed."

The crack of laser fire was deafening in the confines of the room. Bengali caught himself flinching as a dull weight thudded onto the floor yards from where he lay.

"Consider yourself informed, Commander Scintax," came the voice. Claws scratched the metal floor as the speaker's feet moved nearer. Then a hand grabbed him by the mane and hauled him up into a sitting position, bringing Cheetara with him. A slightly crusty finger brushed the side of his face, sending twinges of pain through the raw flesh, and someone chuckled. "You remember me, don't you, Bengali, yesss?"

With the voice, a face suddenly loomed large in his mind's eye. "S-Slithe?" he stammered.

"Very good. Scintax's been looking after you, I see." His foul presence was removed and he could hear the reptilian pacing over to where the dead Scintax lay. "Damn snakes," he muttered. "Can't stand them. Traitorous critters to a Mutant, every one of them."

"Is that why you killed him?" Bengali asked.

"I had my orders," came the reply. "'Neutralise the Snakes', which was a pleasure. 'Kill the two feline prisoners', which is an even greater pleasure!"

"Kill us?" Bengali echoed. "But I thought you had to get us back to Plun-darr alive?"

"Plans change," said Slithe. "You two have become a liability. A whole lot of people are out looking for you. Bears, Control, all scanning for Thunderian life signs. Much good it'll do them, because your journey is gonna end here, yesss!"

He trailed off into a throaty chuckle as the slap of bare feet heralded the arrival of one of his minions. After receiving a report on the status of the captured ship, Slithe grunted with satisfaction.

"Excellent. The ship is taken and all hands eliminated. That just leaves the two Thundercats. Kill them!"

Barely had Bengali registered the metallic whisper of a knife being drawn from its sheath when someone grabbed hold of his mane and jerked his head back.

"Before you die, any last words, Thundercat?" said Slithe.

"Nothing I want to share with you," he retorted.

"What, no clever remarks, no witticisms? Is this how you really want to go?"

He was on the verge of telling the reptilian to get on with it when a better thought came to mind. Perhaps something could be gained by playing this game with Slithe. Stalling for time might mean a few precious minutes more for those interested parties Slithe had talked about to find them.

"Don't do this, Slithe," he managed to get out.

Both reptilians chuckled. "Now that's more like it," Slithe said gleefully. "Go on, beg for mercy! I could do with a laugh, yesss!"

"You won't be laughing when the other Thundercats come after you," Bengali said. "You know they will, Slithe. You'd better hope they find you first, because this time it won't just be imprisonment you'll have to worry about." He had obviously touched a nerve for the reptilian holding him yanked his head back a little further. "Don't be a fool," he grated. "There's still time to turn back!"

For a long time the silence was disturbed only the sound of his laboured breathing. Something he had said had clearly rattled Slithe. When he finally spoke, his voice had lost its confidence.

"You think I'm afraid of your stupid friends?" he said.

"Maybe not," Bengali replied, "but if I were you, I would be terrified of this Overlord you're working for these days."

"What d'you know about him?"

"Only what I've heard, which is enough to know one day you're gonna be in big trouble."

A hand grabbed him round the throat. "What's that supposed to mean?" Slithe demanded, bringing his lips close to Bengali's ear.

His head was starting to spin from lack of oxygen and he had to fight to stay conscious. "How long do you think it will be before your precious leader sends someone to eliminate you?" he said. The hand around his throat was removed and Slithe fell back, murmuring darkly. "Scintax was just as cocky as you and look at him now."

"Scintax was a fool!" Slithe muttered.

"So are you if you go along with this. Come on, Slithe, release us. Tell Lion-O what's going on. We'll topple this Overlord of yours and you'll be safe. Thundera and Plun-darr can be at peace."

"Who wants peace?" Slithe snorted. "You just don't get it, do you, Thundercat? What do you think this is all about? This peace has brought your planet to its knees. Thundera is ripe for picking. When our Overlord gives the word, Mutant forces will move in and take what should have been ours years ago, yesss! Brutis, get on with it!"

Claws raked across Bengali's chest as the reptilian took hold of the front of his uniform and ripped it away. Somewhere in the background came the sound of a malicious chuckle.

"Nice try, Thundercat," said Slithe. "Fact is, as far as your friends know, you're already dead. I let them know the good news before we took this ship. Oh, Lion-O was sooo grateful. 'What happened?' he wanted to know. I told him that the Snakes blew their own ship up and you with it rather than be captured. So, you see, I have to leave your bodies in the debris, but there's nothing stopping me taking a souvenir back to Plun-darr. My Overlord wants your hides for public display, but I want something else." Slithe shuffled over to where he sat. A hand traced down Bengali's chest, pausing on his left breast. "In years to come, I'll be able to tell my grandchildren that I literally ripped the heart out of the Thundercats, yesss. Brutis, your knife!"

"Don't spoil the pelt too much," said the other reptilian.

"I know what I'm doing, fool!" Slithe spat. "Prepare to meet your maker, Thundercat!"

As the sharp tip of the knife was pressed into the flesh of his chest, Bengali clamped his teeth onto his lower lip and tried not to cry out. It was happening. He was actually going to die. He had flirted with the possibility for so long that it seemed as though it was never going to happen. But now it was. In the time he had had to think about it, he had tried to imagine how it would be and how he would deal with it. Not for him a quiet, meek end. No, he would look death in the face and declare his defiance. But he was being denied that. He could not see, had not the strength to fight it, dared not open his mouth to issue a challenge. In the end, it was dirty and lonely and full of fear and pain.

Then, as the knife was pressed home into tender tissue and the dampness of his life's blood spread across his skin, an alarm started to wail.

"What in Plun-darr was that?" Slithe muttered.

Even as the words left his lips, shouts and fearful screams could be heard in the distance.

"Curse it all!" he said, reluctantly withdrawing the knife. "Brutis, find out what's happening."

The hold on his mane was released as the minion went to do his master's bidding. His support gone, Bengali flopped forward against his bonds, panting heavily. In his chest, his heart beat still with a ferocity that spoke of its determination to live.

"Don't get too comfortable, Thundercat," Slithe growled. "I'll finish you in a minute."

The door hissed as it opened, but before the other reptilian could leave, someone rushed into the room. "Slithe, we're under attack!" the newcomer screamed.

"From whom?" Slithe demanded. "I didn't feel any--"

"It's the Scourge!"

The word changed the mood of the room. The reptilian's fear was almost tangible. "Where?" he croaked.

"They're here! The ship is being devoured! Run for your life!" With that, he was gone, and Brutis only a second behind him.

"Craven coward!" Slithe yelled after him. "Wait for me!"

The floor shook slightly as he hurried his bulk from the room. Left alone, Bengali listened as the sounds of panic moved further and further away. Whatever this Scourge was, the mere mention of it had the Mutants terrified. And now it was 'devouring' the ship, whatever that meant. The thought struck him that perhaps a foe of Plun-darr might be a friend of Thundera. Then again, a name like the 'Scourge' was hardly encouraging. Chances are it would hate them as much as the Mutants, although perhaps at this point, he reasoned that he had nothing to lose.

He was about to call out, when he realised how quiet the ship had become. He strained to catch anything, but there was nothing to hear. No shouts, no throb of the engines; he was even holding his own breath. And in the silence, he felt something.

"Is someone there?" he called out nervously.

No answer. Onwards it came, electrifying the air around him. He could taste its presence and feel it in the static that lifted the hairs of his mane. Suddenly he understood what Lynx-O had meant when he had spoken of being able to 'see' an object by reliance on his other senses. He was struck by the overwhelming impression that this was not a malevolent force. It seemed to speak of a wish to help. Even if he was deceiving himself, it was a comfort. With the thing only inches away from him, he did not feel afraid. Instead, he reached for Cheetara's limp fingers and took them in his.

"We'll be all right," he whispered to her. "One way or another, I'll see you soon."

And with that the world ended.

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