Sleep was rudely banished by the sound of a kindly voice. At first, he tried to ignore it. Only when it grew more insistent and was accompanied by a firm shaking of his shoulder, then did Tygra open his eyes. The nurse smiled down at him and removed the offending hand.

"And how are we feeling?" she said. "The doctor will be coming round soon. I'll expect you'll be leaving us today."

She helped him up into a sitting position and, while she set about plumping up his pillows, he gazed about at his surroundings. Now he was fully awake, he was at least able to register that not much had changed. The hospital ward, with its rows of beds to either side of his, was quiet, as was to be expected at this early hour. The other patients had yet to wake and provided a gentle background rumble of snores. He could only wonder how some of them managed such peaceful slumbers. The panther in the bed beside his was obliged to stay in the same position day and night to facilitate the healing of his elevated and plastered left leg. Surely an uncomfortable position for any length of time, yet he slept soundly on. Even when he was awake, Tygra had never heard him complain.

He wished he could have been so stoical, but every hour of the past three days spent in the hospital bed had seemed like a lifetime. Through the window in the long wall opposite him, he could see the bustle of a busy city, of Thunderians going about their daily lives, while he had been stilled. The frustration was unbearable. But today there was hope. Today, release might come.

The nurse finished her ministrations by tidying up his bedcovers and folding the undersheet back over the top blanket. "There," she said. "All neat again. Now, is there anything I can get you?"

He shook his head and she left his side to move on to the next bed to rouse its sleeping occupant. His gaze wandered past her down the ward, where he noticed that curtains now shielded the occupant of one bed from view. It took a moment before he could place the patient. An elderly cheetah, now he thought about it. A terminal case, the nurse had told him, and not long for this world. Hidden as he now was from the curious gaze of the other patients could only mean that his time had come.

As he watched, the bright yellow curtains twitched back and a nurse emerged. He recognised the pretty lioness from the previous evening. Despite a long night on the ward, her light blue uniform was still crisp and her long sandy-coloured mane immaculate under its white cap. The cheeky smile she usually wore for the patients had been replaced this morning by a more sombre expression, confirming Tygra's initial suspicion about the fate of the patient behind the curtains. The realisation dampened his mood and he felt depression creeping into his soul. While he had slept, a life had passed, unmarked but by this solitary nurse. In all the time he had been on the ward and observed the coming and going of staff and visitors, he had never seen anyone with the old cat. Life began and ended alone, the mystics taught; but did it have to be endured the same way?

With a sigh, he pushed himself up on the pillows and turned his gaze to the window. Outside, Thundera was waking. A spacecraft could be seen in the distance, bringing trade from other planets. Beyond, the giant head of Cat's Lair was framed by the glowing rays of the rising sun, edging its dark profile in golden light. Soon, he would be back there, he thought. Back amongst friends, back amongst the living and away from this place of illness and death behind drawn curtains.

The low murmur of voices brought him out of his melancholy and once more his attention was drawn back to the hidden bed. Another figure had come from within and now stood talking to the nurse. She was tall and slim, had the long spotted mane typical of a female of the cheetah clan and a very pleasing rear view. As rude as he knew it was to stare, he found that he could not tear his eyes away. That a place of death could have disgorged such loveliness fascinated him. Where had she come from? He caught himself imagining the face that went with her pleasing outline only slightly hidden beneath the close-fitting lines of her orange dress. The features would be fine, of course, the eyes large and bright, the mouth sweet and full. The old cheetah may have departed this world, he thought, but at least it had been in the presence of beauty. There were worse ways to go.

"Are you all right?"

The voice broke through his thoughts and he found the nurse was stood once more by his bedside.

"Yes, fine, thank you," he said. "Tell me, who is that female? I don't recall seeing her here before."

The nurse followed his gaze. "She's a ward visitor. You know, they sit with the sick to keep them company if they don't have anyone else."

"An angel of mercy. Do you know her name?"

"Now, now," the nurse said, smiling down at him, "you're not better yet."

She went back to her duties and Tygra continued his contemplation of the vision at the other end of the ward. Finally his prayers were answered when nurse and visitor finished their conversation. The nurse disappeared back inside the curtains, leaving the other female to make her way from the ward. Her head was downcast, but even a side view was reward enough. She was everything he had imagined. The pretty face was troubled and the eyes sad. How he longed to bring a smile to those pursed lips, to see her amber eyes dance with laughter. If only she would look his way, but her gaze was fixed on the book she held clasped to her chest. She was upon him before he knew what to do and would have passed without giving him a second glance had not curiosity given him the courage to speak.

"Excuse me?" he called to her.

She stopped, startled out of her reverie, and turned a tired face to his. "Yes, may I help you?" she said.

In oh so many ways, he thought. "I… I just wondered…" he began, suddenly feeling acutely embarrassed. How to finish a sentence like that? Deciding to stick to safer ground, he sought and found a less intimate subject. "How is he?" he asked at last.

She came over to his bedside. "I'm afraid he passed away a little while ago. Were you a friend of his?"

"No. I only knew him from across the ward. Are you a member of his family?"

She gave a small shake of her head, just enough to cause her mane to sway ever so provocatively against her face. "I don't think he had anyone. They asked me to sit with him because… well, no one should die alone, should they?"

"And you just happened to be passing?"

"Not exactly. I'm usually down in the children's ward. I don't think I've ever been up here before. It's not very private, it is?"

"We manage," he said. "And the entertainment is free." He gestured to the bed opposite, where an elderly lion was protesting loudly about having his pillows straightened. The elusive smile he had been hoping for twitched at the corners of her mouth and a little of her sadness was lifted.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Cheetara," she replied. "And you are?"

"Tygra."

She nodded in acknowledgement. "Why are you here? Are you seriously ill?"

"Suspected concussion, that's all. I've been kept in for a couple of days for observation."

"And now you're better?"

"So I'm told, subject to doctor's approval."

"That's good news," she said.

The sentiment was so heartfelt that it took him aback. How many times had he heard those words before without appreciating just how genuine they could be? He tried to formulate an answer and found only confusion.

"Well, I should be going," she said.

"Will you be back?" he asked.

"Will you still be here?"

The sharp tap of shoes on the polished floor dashed his hopes of keeping her by his side. The doctor and his accompanying students were making their way down the ward towards his bed. He had longed for this moment, but now it had come, he wished to remain just a little longer.

"Perhaps I'll see you around," she said. His final reward was one of her heart-warming smiles, then she was gone, replaced by the unsmiling crowd of white-coated medical staff.

"Perhaps," he murmured. "Gods willing."

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

Growls and grunts could be heard long before he reached the training room. As the door opened to admit him, a loud roar sounded, followed by the cheer of the crowd. Tygra wended his way through the clapping trainees and found a space where he could watch what was happening. Too late, it seemed, for in the middle of the mats, a lion was sprawled at the feet of a burly panther. It had hardly been a fair match. The lion, though well-built, was scrawny compared to his training partner. Even amongst his own people, this panther was exceptional for his strength. His physique was marked by the mass of clear-cut muscles that flexed and stood proud in the broad plane of his back. His win had been easy, and yet he was gracious in victory. The victor helped the vanquished to his feet, shook his hand and left the field to the next sparring pair. Seeing Tygra, he headed towards him. Tygra tossed him a towel and waited as he wiped himself down.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," said the panther. "How's the head?"

Tygra gave him a faint smile. "Just fine, Panthro."

"Glad to hear it. So, you're back on duty?"

"Apparently so."

"Feel up to a bout?" Panthro said, gesturing to the mats.

Tygra shook his head. "Not at the moment. Not with you on fine form, at least."

Panthro laughed. "These kids'll give you a run for your money, that's for certain." The merriment died slowly in his eyes and a more serious expression came over his face. "Good to have you back, Tygra," he said, patting him on the shoulder.

"Good to be back," he said. "I wouldn't recommend spending too much time in that hospital."

"Oh, I don't know," said Panthro, grinning. "Some of those nurses were hot." A conspiratorial gleam came into his eye. "Did you get her number?"

"Who?"

"That neat little lioness who was looking after you. She can give me a bed bath any day."

"No, I didn't," Tygra replied, a touch reprovingly. "Although there was someone else…"

Panthro's eyebrows rose. "Oh, really?" he said. "You can tell me all about it over a drink."

He led the way from the training hall and out into the corridor. Apart from the throng they had just left, the Lair seemed strangely empty. The normal bustle had been replaced by an air of expectation, as though all were holding their breath in anticipation of something to come.

"Have I missed something?" Tygra asked.

Panthro's eyes darkened. "The Mutants are hitting pretty bad. While you were out, they raided the western settlements. We lost a lot of men trying to hold them off." He vented his anger by punching the nearest wall. "I don't know how much longer we can carry on like this, Tygra," he said, rubbing his fist. "Our forces are being cut to shreds and there's not a blasted thing we can do about it. Some times I'd like to take this blasted Code of Thundera and--"

"It's what we live by, Panthro."

"And die by," he said bitterly. "There was an investiture ceremony earlier. Couldn't have been one of them over twenty. We're sending babies out to be slaughtered by those Mutant scum!"

"We aren't that much older," said Tygra, suddenly feeling the weight of his twenty-two years.

"Compared to them, we're ancient," Panthro said. He released a deep sigh and shook his head. "Have you heard the news? We're getting a new team mate."

Tygra digested the information without comment. This then was the real reason for the panther's ill humour. It was inevitable of course that the empty place on their team would have to be filled. Four members to every team, the minimum requirement needed to get out of trouble if things went wrong. When it had come to testing that rule, however, four had proved woefully inadequate. A simple rescue mission had turned into a rout. The hostages were long dead by the time they got there and they had had to run for their lives in the face of overwhelming numbers. They had almost made it too. Then yards from the ship, Tanith had run straight into a sword-wielding reptilian. The tigress had been eviscerated on the spot. In spite of the chaos around them, he had held her hand and watched helplessly as her life had drifted away. Then something had hit him -- he couldn't remember now what -- and Panthro had carried them both to the safety of the ship. After that, it was all a blur. The return to Thundera, the hospital, the news of Tanith's slow, lingering death -- it had all happened, and yet it all seemed unreal, as though another person had lived that life. So, before he returned to the Lair, he had had to make sure that the memories were his.

"I went to the cemetery earlier," he said. "I still can't believe she's gone."

Panthro grunted. "Shouldn't have been with us in the first place. Damn stupid females. What do they wanna be Thundercats for, anyhow?"

Tygra allowed a smile to creep across his lips. Panthro had never made a secret of his opposition to the recent bending of the rules to allow females to join their ranks. Jaga had declared that all should be allowed to defend their planet against the Mutant threat. As magnanimous as this was, no one was deceived into thinking that this was anything other than out of necessity. As Panthro had said, they were losing badly against a better armed and unscrupulous foe. The Mutants operated by no code except that which suited them at the time. The young, the old, the infirm -- all were fair game when a raiding party descended. The rigid observance of the Code of Thundera had practically reduced the Thundercats to moping up after wave after wave of increasingly savage raids. As the ferocity grew, there were calls for retribution, for a more aggressive defence of the planet. Jaga and Claudus had so far both managed to resist the demands for pre-emptive strikes on Plun-darr, but with every new attack the calls grew louder and more insistent. Something needed to be done, certainly, but the thought of descending to the Mutants' level left an unpalatable taste in the mouth.

Now was not the time to get into the old argument with Panthro, especially not when he was in such a mood. Instead, Tygra chose a less contentious subject. "Did Jaga say who'll be joining us?"

Panthro gave a quick shake of his head. "Some raw recruit just out of diapers, I'll bet."

"We all were once," he reminded him.

Panthro muttered something uncharitable under his breath. "You coming for a drink or not?" he said.

"I guess so."

"Come on then."

It was an order more than a request and dutifully Tygra set off after him. Not five yards along, however, a door opened and Jaga emerged.

"Ah, Panthro, Tygra, just the Thundercats I wanted to see," he said. "Please, come in. I must talk with you."

Inside, Jaga's office was neat and ordered, an antidote to the chaos of the outside world. Here at least could the Lord of the Thundercats say that he was firmly in control. The jaguar wandered round behind the desk and took a seat.

"I read the report on your last mission," he said gravely. "Katon believes it was a trap."

"Why am I not surprised?" Panthro grunted.

"About the trap… or Katon?" Jaga asked.

The behaviour of the other member of their team was giving all cause for concern. Ever since the death of his wife some months before, leaving him with two young children to raise alone, Katon had become increasingly paranoid and neurotic. Any suggestion that he might consider stepping down as a Thundercat to look after his family was met with firm opposition. He clung to his position, like a man to a raft in a stormy sea, as the only certainly he had left. He had sworn long and earnestly that his personal situation would not affect his work, but inevitably it had. Cautious where once he had rushed headlong into battle, uncertain of his own decisions and anxious in the face of trouble, both Panthro and Tygra had discussed whether they should recommend he be removed from active duty. Although the failure of the last mission had not been his fault, he had slowed down their escape.

"He's… having problems," said Panthro after a moment's hesitation. "I don't think he's coping."

"His situation is difficult," Jaga agreed. "However, he assures me he can manage. Unless you can give me definite grounds for his dismissal, I cannot force him to step down."

He was clearly waiting for an answer. Panthro glanced at Tygra, the same thoughts showing in his eyes. They had nothing to offer their leader. They could tell him of their feelings and the warning voice of intuition, but it was likely to be disregarded. Jaga had never been one to lay much store by rumour and idle gossip, and would need greater convincing before he would consider loosing a Thundercat under the present circumstances.

"The other matter that concerns me," Jaga went on, "is your team. Tygra, you are well? You are fit enough to continue I hope?"

"So the doctors tell me."

"Good. Tanith's death means that I have had to select a suitable replacement and--" He was interrupted by the sound of a soft knocking at his door. "Excellent," he said, getting to his feet. "She's here, right on time."

Panthro groaned. "Another female?" he mouthed to Tygra.

Jaga went to the door and admitted the expected visitor. She came into the room, bringing with her a flood of memories. Tygra stared at her, finding the situation too impossible to be true. She caught his gaze and in returning it, he saw the flash of recognition in her eyes and the nervous smile that accompanied it.

"I would like you meet Lady Cheetara," said Jaga. "These are two of your new team mates, Lord Panthro and Lord Tygra."

"Nice to meet you," Panthro said stiffly, refusing the hand she held out to him by keeping his arms firmly folded.

Tygra felt his mouth moving, although quite what he was saying he was not sure. Whatever it was caused her smile to broaden, however, in a most pleasing way.

"Very good," said Jaga. "Then I will leave you to get acquainted. Good day."

That was the cue to leave and the three filed out into the corridor. For a long time, no one spoke until awkwardness caused Tygra to finally find his voice.

"So," he began. "You're a Thundercat."

She nodded. "Only just."

"What did I tell you?" muttered Panthro. "Damn raw recruit."

"I've done my four weeks of training," she said defensively.

"Oh, really?" he said. "And how old are you, sweet cheeks?"

"Eighteen."

So young, Tygra thought, and yet already wondrous to behold.

"Just off your mother's milk then," Panthro said disparagingly.

"Hardly," she retorted. "My mother died long ago."

His error slowed the panther's response enough for Tygra to speak up.

"You never said you were nobility," he said.

"Nor did you, my lord Tygra," she said, giving him a small curtsey.

"Please," he said, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks. "If we're going to be working together, call me just Tygra. The title means little when you're fighting Mutants."

"So, 'just Tygra'," Panthro quipped, "are you going to tell me how you two know each other?"

"We met in the hospital," he replied. "Cheetara helps out there."

"You a nurse or something?" Panthro asked, eyeing her critically.

"No, I sit with people to give them company," she said. "Does that offend you too?"

"So you do have spirit," he chuckled. "I like that. But you'll need more than that against an army of Mutants."

"Try me!" she declared. "I'm the equal of anyone in Cat's Lair."

"Oh, you might well be," Panthro said. "But it's not here that matters. It's out there, face to face with a Mutant who wants to rip your throat out. You foul up once, you're dead, girl. Can you live with that?"

She swallowed hard, but nodded resolutely. "I'm not afraid."

"Then you're a fool!" he spat. "Get home and find yourself a husband. There's nothing here for you." With that, he strode away down the corridor, flicking his towel at the wall.

"Why does he hate me?" Cheetara asked, watching him go.

"He's a bit het up at the moment," Tygra said. "Our last mission was not a great success."

"Is that why you were in hospital?"

He nodded. "I was lucky. A friend of ours died."

"I'm sorry," she said. "Despite what he thinks, I'm not a silly girl. I do know how to look after myself. I won't fail you."

He looked into her eyes and saw there an earnest belief in what she said. Believing and reality, however, as he knew, were two very different things. He could only pray she was right, for both their sakes.

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

The ship shook as the rear thrusters surged into life and the cabin filled with the contented hum of a well-tuned engine. Clearance had been received and in front of them the hangar doors were opening. Operating systems reported normal functions and they had fuel enough to carry them three times as far as the journey demanded. As flights went, this promised to be uneventful. All the same, as the ship lifted from the ground, Tygra felt the muscles of his stomach knot in anticipation of trouble.

As gut instincts went, it was pretty insubstantial. The mission was simple. A trading craft had gone down in the eastern mountains. The survivors were to be rescued and brought home. Jaga had used words like 'easy', 'minor' and 'straight forward' to describe the assignment. No one was expecting it to be anything other than that. Mutant activity had lessened in the several weeks since he had been released from hospital. Besides, there had never been any reports of Mutants in the mountains. All this he knew, and still he was anxious. Not that Katon was helping.

"But why us?" he worried from his position behind the two pilot seats. "There's any number of other Thundercats who could do it."

"Perhaps Jaga thought you needed the exercise," said Panthro. Manoeuvring the ship out into the open, he eased it up into the sapphire blue sky. "We'll be home in time for dinner," he said. "Quit worrying, will you?"

"I can't help it," Katon said. "It's been too quiet lately. They're up to something, I know it."

"When aren't they?" Panthro grunted. "How you doing, Tygra?"

"Fine," he murmured.

Panthro gave him a sharp look. "Not you too?"

"I just feel a bit…" He paused and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it's the weather."

"Maybe it's indigestion," Panthro said, turning back to monitor the progress of their flight.

His deliberate disregard of the other person on the ship made Tygra wince. Panthro could be as obstinate as a trader's donkey at times. He had chosen to dislike their new team mate and nothing would change his mind. Since their initial meeting, he had not said another word to her. She covered up her feelings well, but Tygra knew it was slowly destroying her self-confidence.

"Are you all right, Cheetara?" he asked.

"A little flight sick, that's all," she replied. Not perhaps the best answer, for it earned a derisive snort from Panthro.

"It'll pass," said Tygra, ignoring his ill-mannered friend.

"Tanith used to get sick when we travelled," said Katon gloomily. "Maybe it's that seat. Makes everyone sick it does. Maybe it's a doomed seat."

The mood, already low, dropped another few pegs. Tygra half-turned and gave the wildcat a warning look. Katon, however, seemed not to understand. Today, he looked worse than usual. His red-white mane hung limply around his shoulders and his brown tunic was stained with food, grease and sweat. The spirit that once burned so brightly in his eyes had long since been crushed. The only reason he still bothered to get up at all was the children. Cutting him down to size for his thoughtless remark would achieve nothing, Tygra knew. He let the matter rest and the flight continued in dogged silence until the mountains finally appeared up ahead.

"Where from here?" Panthro asked.

Tygra consulted the locator beacon. "Not far from Mount Doma."

"What were they doing out here anyway?" said Katon. "Why would traders have come this way?"

"It's safer than the direct route with Mutants about," said Panthro. He hissed suddenly when a peak emerged from a low cloud directly in their path. The ship veered violently as he altered course to avoid the obstacle. "Well, as safe as you can be round these blasted mountains."

"Almost there," said Tygra, glancing out of the cabin window. Far below, he caught the gleam of sunlight on metal.

"Yep, that looks like it," said Panthro in answer to his question. "I'll put her down on that plateau over to the west."

As soon as the ship was down, the panther was out and setting off towards the crash site. Katon followed a pace or two behind, mumbling something about wanting to get the mission over as soon as possible. Letting the other two go ahead, Tygra descended from the ship at a more leisurely pace and waited for Cheetara to join him.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked. She still looked a little queasy, but she smiled and tried to tell him otherwise. "Well, this is all pretty routine," he said. "We find the survivors, get them home and that's it."

"So why are you worried?" she asked.

He faltered, her directness taking him by surprise. "I'm not," he lied. "This is only…"

"Routine?" she finished for him. "Katon doesn't think so."

Before he could reply to that, there was a shout from Panthro. Hurrying in his direction, he came upon the shattered hull of the downed craft. Its insides had spilled out, littering the ground with twisted metal, glass and broken wires. What was left of the interior was a blackened, melted mess. But it was not at this that both Panthro and Katon were staring. Tygra followed their gaze and felt his blood run cold. Nailed to the rocks were the bodies of the five survivors. Their throats had been cut and their blood used to paint a grisly message on the cliff wall.

"'Death to Thundera'," Panthro read solemnly. "You know what this means."

Katon started to tremble violently. "M-m-mutants?" he stammered. "Here? How? We have to leave!" He turned to run, but Panthro caught him by the arm.

"No!" he said sternly. "We find out what happened here, then we leave."

"You can see what happened!" Katon yelled, trying to free himself. "The Mutants captured them and killed them! What more d'you need to know!"

"What those Mutant were doing here would be a start," said Panthro. The sound of someone being sick made him stop what he was saying. "What's the matter with her?" he muttered.

Tygra went to Cheetara's side and gently rubbed her back. "It's all right," he said. "I feel pretty sick myself."

"No, it's not that," she mumbled. "It's--" She let out a cry and clutched her head. "Oh, gods, they're here," she screamed. "Danger! Mutants are…" Her voice trailed away into nothingness. Her body went limp and her eyes rolled. Seconds later, she collapsed into Tygra's waiting arms.

"Typical," muttered Panthro. "One sight of blood and she faints."

"She said the Mutants were still here," said Katon. "Danger, she said. We have to--"

Panthro hit him across the face. "Pull yourself together!" he roared. "What are you? A Thundercat or a mouse? If you've lost it, Katon, you've no business being here!"

"But you have, yesss!"

At the sound of the voice, Katon's eyes widened. He spun round and came face to face with a grinning reptilian. Then, from behind the rocks came several others, each bearing laser weapons, all of which were trained on the Thundercats.

"Get your handsss up!" the reptilian lisped. Satisfied that his order had been carried out, he descended from his vantage point on the wreckage and wandered around his captives. "Excellent! Four fine Thundercatsss. All Plun-darr will rejoice at my victory!" On the ground, Cheetara started to groan. "What'sss the matter with her?" he demanded.

"We don't know," Panthro said.

"Isss she ill?" So saying, he drew out his gun. "An ill feline is no ussse to me."

"No, wait!" Tygra said, putting himself between Cheetara and the Mutant. "She'll be all right." He shook her and finally she opened her eyes. "You have to get up," he insisted. "I'll help." Supporting her on his arm, he helped her to her feet.

"Four Thundercatsss it isss then," said the reptilian. "Get them on board the ship. We don't want them to be late for their executionsss, yesss!"

"Executions?" Katon gasped. He scrambled over to where the Mutant stood and grovelled at his feet. "No! Please, I beg of you. Don't execute me. I can help you. I can tell you things. I--"

"Katon, no!" Panthro yelled.

The wildcat turned desperate eyes on him. "I have to," he said, before turning back to their captor. "I don't want to die. I have a family. Please, don't kill me. I can be of use to you. I can tell you things, whatever you want to know."

"You keep your mouth shut!" Panthro roared. He surged forward and received a blow across the back of his head for his troubles, sending him tumbling to the floor.

"Whatever I want to know," the reptilian mused.

"Anything!" Katon said.

"Then answer me thisss." He raised his gun and levelled it at Katon's head. "How doesss a coward die?"

In the second it took him to realise what was about to happen, the reptilian had already squeezed the trigger. The laser bolt passed clean through his skull. Katon fell to the ground, his eyes still glassy with the last flickering of life. Slowly, the light died, but the eyes remained opened, forever staring at the nothingness into which he had been plunged.

"I hate cowards," the reptilian sneered, prodding the wildcat's still body with his toe. "Anyone feel like joining him?"

"You scum!" Panthro growled from where he lay.

"That'sss more like it," the reptilian said. "Keep that up, Thundercat, and you'll be a real crowd-pleaser when we get you back to Plun-darr, yesss!"

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

The cell was small, but that did not stop Cheetara making the most of the limited space. Tygra watched as she completed another circuit of the room only to begin again. On the bench on the other side of the room, Panthro sat with his head in his hand, his fingers spread across his smooth scalp.

"How did this happen?" he murmured. "How did a simple rescue mission become… this?"

"All part of life's rich pageant, I guess," said Tygra.

"Not funny," came the muttered reply.

From the world outside the hammering they had been hearing all afternoon started up again. Cheetara altered her course and went to the tiny barred window set high up on the wall opposite the cell door. Standing on tiptoe, she peered out into the encroaching darkness.

"They're building something," she said. "Looks like a platform of some sort."

"Does it have two uprights and a beam across the middle?" asked Panthro. At her nod, he gave a resigned grunt. "Then it's gallows."

"You mean…?" Even in the dim light, Tygra could see that her face had paled. "We're… going to be… hanged?" she said falteringly.

"If we're lucky," said Panthro with a sigh. "They usually follow it up with drawing and quartering."

Cheetara sank down on the bench beside Tygra. "We're really going to die, aren't we?" she said.

"Unless we can escape or someone comes to rescue us, then yes, we probably are."

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. "You don't think it's ever going to happen, do you? I mean, I never thought I would actually die…"

He wanted to reach out to her, to take her in his arms and try to tell her that everything would be all right. But in his heart, he knew it would be just a lie. Nor would the gesture be appreciated, he guessed. The ring she wore on her right hand had put paid to any hopes he had had of romance.

"At least you have people who'll miss you," said Panthro, as if reading his thoughts. "Can't say my family'll be too cut up. My father always said I'd come to no good."

"They don't know I'm here," Cheetara said quietly.

"You didn't tell them you were on a mission?" Tygra asked.

"Didn't tell them I was a Thundercat."

"What?" Panthro spluttered. "Then where in ten bells do they think you are?"

She fiddled with the hem of her tunic and kept her gaze carefully averted. "With friends."

"But you've been at Cat's Lair for nearly two months," said Panthro. "This is one story I've got to hear."

"It's no big deal. I ran away, that's all."

"From?"

She got to her feet and started pacing again. "Are you sure there's no way out of this cell?"

"Positive," said Panthro. "Now tell your story."

Cheetara sighed and leant back against the wooden cell door. "I don't love him, my fiancé, I mean. I'm not sure I even like him. I'm only marrying him because our families wanted it."

"A marriage of convenience?" Tygra asked.

She nodded. "His family have political ambitions and my father had the connections, so it was seen as a desirable match."

"Not for you though, I'll bet," said Panthro. "Why did you agree to it?"

"I didn't realise what I was agreeing to," she said with a slight shrug. "I was only eight at the time of our betrothal."

"Eight?!"

"That's how things are done. They said if I answered yes to all the nice man's questions, I'd get a present. Well, I did, and I got my present and that was that, I was engaged. We're to be married on my eighteenth birthday."

"You're not eighteen yet then?" asked Tygra.

"Almost," she said, a look of nervousness coming into her eyes.

"Almost?" queried Panthro.

"My birthday's only nine months away."

Panthro swore under his breath. "What did I say? Babies! We'll be taking them from the cot soon."

"It was my choice," said Cheetara. "I know you're meant to be eighteen to be a Thundercat, but I didn't think a few months would matter."

It was Panthro's turn to get to his feet and take a turn about the cell. "Crazy females," he murmured as he came to rest by the window. "This guy, your fiancé?"

"Chegan."

"This Chegan, how does he not know where you are now?"

"I told him that my work at the hospital meant I needed to be close by in case they needed me. I said I would be staying with friends for a while. He didn't mind. I'm not even sure he cared. So I packed a bag and went straight to Cat's Lair. For the first time in a long time, I felt… free." She took a deep breath and toyed with her ring. "I don't want to get married, not yet anyway and not to Chegan. I've always wanted to be a Thundercat, you see. My grandfather was one, and he used to tell me stories about what he did and the battles he fought and all his friends. It sounded like a wonderful life. I didn't think I would ever get to be one, but then Jaga allowed females to join and I knew I had to try. So much for dreams," she added with a sigh. "I didn't expect it to end so quickly."

Under the weight of Tygra's accusing stare, Panthro gruffly cleared his throat and moved over to where she sat. "Nothing wrong with dreams," he said, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "What you did took great courage. I admire that. All the same, there have to be easier ways to get rid of unwanted suitors."

Cheetara shook her head. "There has to be a good reason to break off a betrothal like mine. Not liking the other person isn't enough. I hoped that if I was a really good Thundercat, Jaga would let me stay."

"I doubt it," said Tygra. "Jaga is a stickler for the rules. Once he knows how old you are, he'll tell you to go home and come back when you're the right age."

"As if that matters out here," Panthro said with a soft snort. "Old or young, we're all gonna die the same."

From beyond the cell door came the distant rattle of keys. A moment later, a hatch in the door slid back and their simian jailer pressed his unlovely face close to the bars. "Evening all," he smirked, his scarred lips twisting into a crooked grin. "I'm here to take your orders for last meals. Now, what'll you be having?"

"Nothing," Panthro growled. "Get lost."

The ape's expression changed to something like disappointment. "Oh, now play the game, Thundercats. Everyone has a last meal. It's tradition, see, like being executed at dawn. It's the done thing."

"Well, tough," said Panthro.

"Actually," Cheetara spoke up, "I'd like some water."

"That's more like it," said the ape, eyeing her appreciatively through the hatch. "You aren't bad, for a Thunderian. What say you and me keep each other company through this long, lonely night?"

"I'll think about it," she said, wincing at the very thought.

The hatch shut and ribald laughter came to their ears as the ape went on his way. As silence fell once again over the tiny cell, Panthro resumed his vigil by the window. The chill of night was starting to seep in and Cheetara wrapped her arms about her and shivered.

"Perhaps I should have asked for a blanket as well," she murmured.

"The general rule is don't ask for anything," said Panthro. "That way you aren't disappointed by what you get."

"But I only asked for water," she said. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," said Tygra. "It's what they put in it that makes it undrinkable."

"Like?"

"Laxatives, emetics, things like that to make their prisoners weaker and more malleable. I should think they're preparing quite a heady cocktail for us, given what they want to happen tomorrow…"

He left the thought unfinished. She could draw her own conclusions. Evidently her imagination could provide its own horrors, for she shuddered and began to rub her upper arms. "I won't let you down," she said determinedly. "They'll get no satisfaction from me. I won't give them the pleasure of hearing me beg or cry."

"I shouldn't worry too much about that," said Panthro. "Knowing you, you'll faint again."

"I didn't faint," she insisted. "I… passed out."

Panthro gave a low laugh. "There's a difference?"

"But why did you pass out?" Tygra asked. "The sight of the blood?"

"No," she said, lowering her gaze to the floor. "Sometimes I see things, things that are about to happen, or are happening to someone else. I just know when there's trouble, like I knew those Mutants were going to be there."

"You had a vision?" Panthro said. "Kind of a sixth sense thing you've got?"

"I suppose you could call it that," she said. "I have no control over it. It just happens out of the blue and leaves me feeling so weak sometimes I can't stand. That's what happened to me earlier. One minute I was looking at the wreckage, the next I saw the Mutants waylaying that ship and killing the people and waiting for rescuers to come." She lifted her head and Tygra saw that her eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "They wanted a prize. They wanted us." She came back to her senses and glanced over him. "It was a trap. They used the traders as bait."

"That fits," Panthro murmured. "And tomorrow we get to be the star attraction."

In the moment or two of awkward silence that followed, Cheetara fidgeted uncomfortably on her seat and finally found something to distract her mind by getting up and resuming her pacing. Even thus occupied, it seemed she could still find no peace, judging from the dampness creeping from her eyes. When she did finally speak, it was to confirm what Tygra already suspected.

"I'm not afraid," she said quietly. "I chose this life. If this is how it ends, then I'm ready for it."

"Well, I'm not," said Panthro, turning away from the window. "I've got a whole lot of living to do before I call it a day." He wandered over to where she stood and met her uncertain gaze. "I'll make a deal with you, Cheetara," he said. "You stop crying and help us out of this mess, and we'll get rid of your inconvenient fiancé so you can carrying on being a Thundercat, if that's what you want. Now, how does that sound to you?"

She sniffed back her tears. "But how? I thought you said--"

"There's a ship out there," he said, jerking his head in the direction of the window. "The workers have gone home and as far as I can tell the place is deserted. We didn't give them any trouble before and they're not expecting any now. Everything is in our favour. All you have to do is get that cell door open and we'll do the rest."

"But how?" she said again. "We don't have weapons or anything."

Panthro chuckled to himself. "We don't need them," he said. "We've got the most devastating weapon right here." With his thumb, he carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks. "You're a handsome girl. I'm sure you can work your magic on that jailer."

A look of horror came across her face and she backed away from him. "You mean seduce him?" she gasped. "No, that's immoral!"

"I'm not asking you to sleep with the guy," said Panthro. "Just make him open that door."

"What makes you think he's interested in me?"

"It wasn't us he winked at. All you have to do is play up to him. I've yet to meet anyone who's not swayed by a pretty face."

She frowned at him. "All right," she said. "I'll do it. But under protest."

"Good girl," said Panthro. "I'll take up position by the door, ready to bash him the minute the door opens. Tygra, you know what to do?"

He nodded, but Cheetara looked puzzled.

"He's going to create an illusion," Panthro explained in answer to her question. "So if our ape friend gets suspicious, it'll look like I'm sitting over there."

"You can do that?" Cheetara asked.

"I have the ability," Tygra replied. "I tend not to use it much, because I find it mentally and physically draining."

"How will you manage now?"

The question contained just enough concern to bring a warm glow to his heart. "Hopefully, I won't have to maintain it for long," he said.

"I'll do my best," she said, returning his smile.

So saying, she began to unbutton the collar of her tunic from under her chin. Watching her, Tygra found himself wondering at her choice of garment for the mission. Tanith had always gone for close-fitting bodysuits, snug to wrist and ankle. Cheetara, on the other hand, had caused something of a sensation when she had appeared for the mission dressed in an outfit high in the neck and short in the skirt. Perhaps not such a surprising choice, however, for a runner, Tygra reflected. One day he had quite by chance found himself near the training ground and had been amazed to see their new team mate moving across the field so fast that he had had trouble distinguishing her from the yellow streak of light that followed in her wake. Cheetahs were renowned for their speed, but he had never seen anything quite so fast. Panthro had of course scoffed at the usefulness of such an ability on the kind of missions they were sent on, but Tygra was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that they would be relying on her speed for their escape as much as her physical charms.

She continued to unbutton down to a point midway across her bust. "How's that?" she asked. The buttons beneath strained to contain her breasts, which the tightness of the tunic had conspired to push up and together, creating a deep cleavage.

Panthro gave her a cursory glance and had to clear his throat before he could speak. "I said get him to open the door, not make him drop dead from shock," he said with difficulty. "But you'll do."

A rattling cough in the background made him put a finger to his lips for silence. Taking up position to one side of the door, he gestured for Cheetara to make herself ready. As an unsteady hand started to fiddle with a hatch low down in the door, Tygra pressed his fingertips to his temples and conquered up an image of Panthro sat by his side. By the time a jug and several cups had been thrust through the opening, all three Thundercats were once more in the jailer's sight.

"There's your water, girly," the ape said. "Save some for your friends. They'll be needing it."

Cheetara turned on her most winning smile. "Oh, thank you," she simpered. "That really is most kind. I'm so grateful."

The jailer hesitated and through the hatch a look of uncertainty could be seen flickering across his grizzled features. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that later," he said.

"Actually," she said, "I was wondering… if you would do something for me."

"I'm not here at your beck and call, Thundercat," the ape said gruffly. "Food I'll get you, but nothing more." He went to close the hatch, but Cheetara reached through and caught his hand.

"Please, this is important," she said.

"What d'you want?"

She feigned embarrassment to perfection, pulling a lock of her golden hair round to chew in a most alluring manner. "Well, it's like this," she began. "And it's rather delicate. I, er, I wondered… if you would be so good as to… sleep with me."

The hatch slammed shut. A moment later, the ape had pulled back the door of the opening higher up so that he was on eye-level with her. "Say what?" he said, pressing his face close to the bars. A globule of drool dripped from the side of his mouth as he took in the glorious view she was offering him. "You want me to sleep with you?"

"Yes, I know it's an awful cheek to ask such a thing," she said. "I mean, we're mortal enemies and you hate us. But if I'm going to be executed tomorrow, I don't want to die without knowing what it was like to be with a male."

The ape's mouth dropped open, revealing gaps in his blackened teeth. "You… you're offering me…?" he stammered. "If that's the case, why don't you ask them?" he said, nodding to where Tygra and the illusionistic Panthro sat.

"I would," Cheetara said, in all innocence, "but they only have eyes for each other."

"Their loss," the jailer murmured, using the back of his hand to wipe the slobber from his chin. "Very well, then. Yes, I'll help you. But no funny stuff."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," she said. "I am your prisoner. Do whatever you wish with me."

The ape's eyes gleamed as they lit once more on the gentle rise and fall of her burgeoning chest. "My lucky day," he gibbered, fiddling with his mass of keys. "Just one minute and I'll have you out of there and then we'll have some fun."

The instant the key turned in the lock, Panthro threw his weight against the door. The unsuspecting ape was smashed back against the wall as the heavy door flew open. He was knocked senseless and sprawled in an untidy mess on the floor. Panthro stepped over him and surveyed the scene with satisfaction.

"What did I tell you? A sucker for a pretty face. And you," he said, addressing his remark to Cheetara as she followed him out of the cell. "'They only have eyes for each other'?"

She shrugged. "I had to say something. Well, what now?"

"We were brought down the left hand passage," said Tygra, emerging from the cell behind them. A headache throbbed solidly behind his eyes from his mental exertions and he had to concentrate to make any sense of what Panthro was asking.

"No, making us all invisible is out of the question," he replied. "I can probably just about manage myself, but not the two of you as well."

"Then that'll have to do," said Panthro. "Let's go."

As he had said, the cell block was empty. The Mutants were away celebrating, judging from the sound of revelry and the occasional drunken roar that split the still night air. Panthro led the way along the passage, with Cheetara behind him and Tygra bringing up the rear. Only when he came to a door did he stop. Signalling to the others to remain where they were, he opened the door and looked out for a second.

"At least ten guards," he said. "Didn't see them before. They must have been stood up against the wall. Blast it all!"

"We can handle them," said Tygra.

"Before they sound the alert?" Panthro shook his head. "Even if we take three each, that still leaves one to go running to fetch a whole lot of trouble." He ground his fist into his hand. "We're so near now. There has to be a way."

"I could clear a path to that ship," Cheetara said. "No problem."

Panthro gave her a doubtful look. "Ten guards? All at once? I don't think so."

"Just watch me," she said, buttoning up her tunic once more. A broken length of pipe lay on the floor amidst the assorted debris and she picked it up. "If you can fly that ship, I'll get us there."

"I'll believe it when I see it," said Panthro. "Ready?"

She tightened her grip on her make-shift weapon and nodded. Panthro counted to three, then threw open the door. Cheetara was gone in a blur of light. A few muffled cries and groans followed in her wake. By the time Panthro and Tygra made it out into the courtyard, the battle was over. The guards lay dazed on the dusty ground and above them Cheetara stood twirling her staff in triumph.

"Well, I'll be…" Panthro said.

"Momentum is a powerful thing," she said with a smug smile. "Shall we leave before these beauties wake up?"

"Whatever you say, ma'am," he said, jumping to attention and giving her a salute.

Cheetara giggled. "Then I say let's go home."

"At the double," said Panthro. "Thundera, here we come!"

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

Tygra waited outside the council chamber, watching the life of the Lair pass by. Finally, the double doors opened and Cheetara came fairly skipping out.

"I can't believe it!" she said excitedly. "Chegan just agreed to the annulment of our betrothal!"

"That's marvellous news," said Tygra, rising to meet her.

It was a line he had been practising during his wait. Injecting the sentiment with enough surprise had been the hardest part. Ever since they had returned and Panthro had hurried away saying there was something he had to do, he had known the outcome. The panther had ways of his own when it came to being persuasive. Not that Cheetara ever needed to know what he had done for her; it was enough that she was free. Her exuberance was infectious, however, and even the glum cheetah who emerged from the chamber was forced to give her a half-hearted smile when she waved at him.

"That was Chegan?" Tygra asked.

Cheetara nodded. "He was so reasonable about it. I thought he'd put up a fight, but he said he was happy for me and that he hoped I would be happy too as a Thundercat. And, you know, I am."

"I really am glad for you," he said, holding her gaze for several seconds longer than was necessary. He wondered if she truly understood how much he had meant it. She smiled back, seemingly unaware, her amber eyes sparkling with delight. He could have happily contemplated such a sight for a lifetime, but he knew other matters demanded his attention. One, in particular, that was particularly close to his heart.

"I noticed you hadn't signed the official report of our last mission," he said, dropping his gaze to the paper he held in his hand.

"No, I couldn't," she said. "You lied about Katon."

"Not exactly." If he had lied, then it was by omission for he had not mentioned Katon's attempt to save his own life by turning traitor. "He was killed."

"Yes," Cheetara agreed. "But he was about to betray us, Tygra. How can I put my name to a lie? Part of the Code of Thundera is Truth."

"And so is Loyalty," he said. "Loyalty to one another." Seeing that she would not be swayed by arguments alone, he took her by the arm. "Come, I want to show you something."

He led the way upstairs and along the corridor to where the royal nursery was located. Opening the door immediately incurred the wrath of a snarf, who was in attendance over three cubs playing on the floor. One, red-haired and sandy-skinned, was the only child of Lord Claudus, ruler of Thundera. The other two, a boy and a girl, bore black markings in their manes typical of their wildcat ancestry.

"Katon's children, WilyKit and WilyKat," Tygra told her. "A brighter pair you'll never find in the whole of Thundera. Their mother died from a fever and now they have lost their father too."

"I've told them," said the snarf. "But I don't think it's sunk in yet, poor little mites."

Tygra nodded his thanks and left the room, closing the door behind him. "If I put in this report that Katon was a traitor, Jaga will be forced to have him posthumously stripped of his Thundercat status. That means his family, in this case his children, will not get any support for their upbringing. They will have to leave the Lair. They'll probably end up in the orphanage, where they'll stay until they're old enough to fend for themselves. No one will adopt the children of a traitor, Cheetara, you know that. Traitors are hated more than Mutants."

She nodded and sighed deeply. "But, Tygra, what Katon did--"

"Was understandable," he finished for her. "He should never have been on that mission. I blame myself. I should have spoken up sooner. After the death of his wife, he was inconsolable. He was heading for a nervous breakdown and wouldn't accept any help. It affected his judgement, yes. But I'll never have it said that he wasn't a good father. You've seen his children; would you want to die and leave those two behind?"

"No," she said softly.

"I owe it to Katon to see that his family is well cared for. If we just say he was killed, the cubs can stay here and the Thundercats will care for them. Why should the sins of the father be visited upon his cubs? Katon is dead. I can't help him. I can help his children." He reached out and took her hands in his. "Please, gentle Cheetara, have mercy."

"When you put it like that, how can I refuse?" She took the sheet and pen he offered her and added her name to the other signatures with a flourish. "There. Now, what else?"

He carefully stowed the report and pen in his pocket and wondered if he had the gall to say what was on his mind. "How about having a drink with me?" he ventured at last.

"A date, you mean? With you?"

"Would that be completely out of the question?"

"No," she said. "It would be very nice indeed."

She slipped her arm through his and they started down the corridor together. Every now and then, Tygra found himself looking at her, to make sure that this was not some dream soon to be snatched away. But no, she was there and she was real and, when he caught her eye, she would smile that same smile he remembered from the first time they had met. She was perfect, she was beautiful and she was with him. And it had all started with just one smile.

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