Storm Surge

An anomalous rise in water elevations caused by severe storms approaching the coast. A storm surge can be succinctly described as a large wave that moves with the storm that caused it. The intensity and dimension of the storm causing a surge, and thus the severity of the ensuing surge elevations, depend on the origin and atmospheric characteristics of the storm itself. (from: /topic/storm-surge - SciTech Encyclopedia

Chapter One

Calm Before the Storm

The calm before the storm isn't a new concept by any means. It was recognized long ago that before a severe storm, the air is still and the birds stop singing and go to shelter. "Calm continueth not long without a storm." This quote from an unknown source was written in 1576. (from www.gsfc.nasa.gov/scienceques2003/20030926.htm)

Moonlight spilled into the courtyard, softening the dark shadows cast by the various plants. A soft breeze scented with flowers and coming rains drifted from the north. A sprinkling of miniature lights twinkled in the branches above me, transforming the newly planted gardens that had been created in so few days into an otherworldly dimension.

I paused for a moment as I was gripped by the faintest of memories of a tale I was told as a young cub back on Thundera. I stared at the tiny sparkles slowly shifting with the breeze on the treed canopy willing the thoughts to the forefront of my mind. My breath stilled in my lungs as I waited for the reverie to come, but just as quickly as the recollection had sparked, it fled into the recesses of my consciousness.

Remembering to breathe, I once again resumed my walk to an alcove set with an ember flame, highlighting a beautiful stone sculpture. As I neared the rock formation, I could make out finer details embedded in the facets of the carving. The stone was smooth, so sleek it seemed to glow with moisture just under the surface. Almost as if called, the fingers of one of my hands grazed the ebony stone. No moisture enhanced the surface; it was simply polished to that sheen.

I set the small box that I had brought with me down on the perfectly manicured lawn and returned my attention to the stone. I had seen nothing like this since back on our home world. Our departure from Thundera had been of necessity. Only the items we could carry and few personal belongings were brought on board. I had taken even less. The items of value both personal and in clan history were carefully stowed away on the Acinonyx vessel carrying my family and my mate.

My heart crimped painfully with overwhelming loss. I had to blink quickly to keep the moisture threatening in my eyes from spilling down my cheeks. I cursed myself silently for my weakness and drew in a breath, harsh and shallow, to push the unwanted emotions down, deep into the hidden part of me, concealed from the world.

A soft clearing of a throat to my right reminded me that I was not alone. I schooled myself not to jump in startled fright. I would not allow myself to show how entranced I had been in my own thoughts; thoughts that I did not wish to share at the moment or any other moment in time.

"This is amazing." My voice was quiet in awe of the work that the other ThunderCats had put into the garden courtyard.

It had taken my body longer to recover from the blood loss I had received by my own hand during Pumyra, BenGali, and Lynx-O's anointment celebration. Even now, I could feel the shame heat my cheeks at the scene that I had created. Quickly, I scanned the plants in front of me, as I detoured my mind from replaying the past in an endless circuit, of which I had been doing since coming to consciousness in sickbay.

"We wanted to make a memorial to all of those we have lost," Lion-O replied to my earlier statement. Hopefully, he was taking my breathless statement at face value, not looking beyond my silence into my heart. I chanced a look at the young lord and immediately regretted the move. His eyes were soft, gentle russet, showing how much he understood.

"It is important that we remember the past, honor those we have lost," I agreed, attempting to place my own feelings behind the losses of the other members of our group, the survivors of my extended family, now my only family. I saw Lion-O bend his head slightly, obviously remembering his own personal tragedies. He had been a newborn cub when he had lost his mother and little less than a fledging adolescent as Claudus had perished in Thundera's demise. On our way to this new existence, he had lost his childhood as well. I was overcome with guilt for my selfishness. I had had the opportunity to know my parents, have a mate, be a sibling. Lion-O had never had such possibilities.

"You have every right to your feelings," Lion-O whispered to me and reached out to capture my unencumbered hand in his comforting grasp.

How he could read my mind was frightening in its accuracy. I tried to step away grant, myself some peace, space, but his hand held me frozen to my spot. "We have all dealt with tragedy. But sometimes, never knowing what you have lost is less a burden than living life and having it all taken away," he continued.

This time as I sought distance, he granted it, letting me slip out of his hold. Part of me wanted to close the distance, throw myself into a hard embrace and mourn the losses that I have relived so recently, losses I had never known, never understood. Instead, I clung to my wavering strength in isolation. My burdens were my own. As Lion-O had reminded me, we all had lost so much.

I walked past the Acinonyx monument to an alcove planted with a small tree with branches that bent from the trunk and draped gracefully to the ground in a sweeping pattern that swayed in the gentle breeze. Below the tree was a field of small, blue flowers with a sweet fragrance. Both Wily Kit and Kat stood in front of a small placard nestled beneath the tree and surrounded by the flowers. I knelt next to the plaque and read silently. "The gracious Felis. In memory of Kanu and Katika, beloved parents."

"Your mother and father would be so proud of how you have grown, shown yourselves to be true Felis Thunderians," I said and stood to look at the two once kittens now adolescents in front of me. "You honor their memory not only here," I gestured to the section of the gardens that they had obviously worked hard on creating, "but also in your actions as ThunderCats."

My words meant to inspire ended up causing Kit's eyes to cloud. She threw herself into me, her arms clutching my waist. I had not intended to cause this reaction, this pain. I didn't know what to do, so I stood woodenly, my own arms draping around the young woman's back, my shoulder soaking up tears. My eyes fell to Wily Kat in a desire for assistance. He too appeared to be overcome with emotion. I watched as he surreptitiously swiped at his eyes, and then finally moved to help.

"Kit," he started, a voice thick and choked in a sob. He coughed and began again. "Kit, why don't you tell Cheetara about the plants we selected."

At her brother's suggestion, Kit pushed herself from me and quickly scrubbed her hand across her wet cheeks. "I am sorry," she gulped, and I saw the same heat of shame stain her cheeks as it had mine moments before.

"No," I whispered, the sound was much harsher than I intended, and I saw Kit's stance stiffen in reaction. I reached out and pulled her against me in a fierce embrace. I did not wish to be the example for her to look upon with regard to handling the past. "Don't apologize, ever!"

I felt Kit swallow convulsively against my neck in acknowledgment of my words before she pulled away again. This time her face while still damp held no guilt. In fact, I could see almost a relief in her posture. However it had come to pass, it seemed that my words had finally lifted the burden that she carried in her heart. "I won't," she promised.

Turning away from me, she pointed to the small tree that centered the plot of land. "That is called a weeping willow. Willa showed it to me. It is considered sacred by the Warrior Maidens. They have a legend that accompanies the tree.

"A long time ago there were two lovers that pledged themselves to each other forever. The young man was so smitten by the maiden that he made a vow that he would seek out the secret to immortality so that their love would last for eternity.

"The maiden desperately missed her betrothed, so every day she would sit beneath the tree and cry for him to return to her. The young man refused to give up his quest, but every once in awhile, he would return to the tree and lay a flower for the maiden to find to remind her of him. Brokenhearted, the maiden soon cried herself to death.

"Mother nature came and saw the maiden's body surrounded by all her tears. The Great Spirit wanted to honor the maiden for her devotion to her true love. So, She filled the tree and the leaves with the maiden's spirit, and suddenly, the branches began to weep. To this day, the Warrior Maidens say that when you stand under a weeping willow on the right type of night, you will hear the maiden wailing for her lover."

"That's quite a story," I replied. It certainly explained the tree's sorrow filled name although I wasn't too sure how appropriate it was for a memorial to one's parents.

"Well, it is just a legend, but Willa said that the tree holds special significance for the Warrior Maidens beyond the tree's name. In the Warrior Maiden's culture, the willow tree is said to host a wise spirit, and the tree itself symbolizes long life and immortality," Kat elaborated.

"It holds significance for me too," continued Kit, glaring at her brother's interruption. "Do you see how the branches sway with the wind? Both the branches and the leaves move in intricate motions. They remind me of the dances Mom used to perform for the royal court."

I turned and watched the wind move the tree in a nature-choreographed dance. I had almost forgotten that Lady Katika had been the prima dancer for the royal court. Her grace had been beyond comparison.

I continued to watch the interplay of the willow and thought how the tree appeared to have certain courage about it. How it seemed to have no fear of expressing its emotions, the ripe grief of the young maiden to the joy of the motion of air. Perhaps, the tree was a fitting memorial after all.

"What about these flowers?" I asked, leaning closer to catch the delicate scent.

"Cudi called them forget-me-nots," Kat answered quickly.

I nodded and inhaled the fresh fragrance once more before straightening. Their name certainly needed no more explanation. "Very lovely."

"I'm glad you like them," Kit said and held out three small seedlings to me. "We thought, you might like to place them in the Acinonyx section as well."

I was silent for a moment unable to even think of words to express my thoughts. That painful crimp in my heart, the one with which I was becoming quite familiar, hitched in my chest. "That would be very nice," I managed to respond and took a quiet, tight breath. I saw both Kit and Kat exchange a glance, their sibling telepathy engaged. The look that passed between them was tinged with worry. I must have been too transparent in my management of my own grief.

I was saved from trying to cover my thoughts by Lion-O, who apparently had been watching our interplay. The young lion had been quite protective of me since I had finally been released from Pumyra's prison, I mean, sickbay.

"There are more of the gardens to see," Lion-O said and pointed to the far side of the courtyard. "Snarf has planted a fruit section to honor the Snarves back on his homeworld. BenGali and Pumyra have started an herb garden." Lion-O continued the tour as we walked through the court.

For such a small space, each Thunderian clan was well represented. Tygra had used lilies to honor his brethren; Panthro had chosen a tree called a Japanese maple and had surrounded the main area with smaller plants that resembled miniature trees. Lion-O called it the art of bonsai. Even Lynx-O's section held plants reminiscent of him, a sensitive plant that reacted to touch. We ended the tour at Lion-O's section.

"I decided to use these bushes to honor my parents. Be careful," he warned, as I reached to take a large blossom in my hand to smell the fragrance.

His warning came too late as a sharp thorn dug into my skin. I growled softly and pulled my hand away quickly inspecting the damage. A pinprick of blood pooled into a drop on my finger. Before I could even manage to do more than look, Lion-O had snagged my hand and was inspecting the wound. The lion's protectiveness was growing on my overtaxed nerves, and I pulled away. "It is just a scratch," I hissed, "I'm not going to bleed to death."

The words had tumbled out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to analyze much less filter them. The harshness of my statement was only magnified by the stricken look on the lion's face. "Jabari," I swore under my breath; would I never learn? "That was stupid; I'm sorry."

It took Lion-O a moment to recover from my outburst, and another fraction of a second to accept my gauze wrapped hand on his forearm as contrition. He looked at me, directly into my eyes. Whenever he did that I felt as if he were searching my soul for answers I was unable to give. "We almost lost you," he spoke softly almost as if the words would wound more than the plant had. "I don't ever want to come that close again."

The intensity of his gaze, his words, made me take a step back, physically. When had we become, whatever this was? Searching for more distance, I purposefully changed topics. "What are they?" I asked pointing at the lovely blossoms with the thorns hidden on their stems.

Lion-O looked long and hard at me. For a moment, I was not sure that he would answer. Even when he did, his voice told me that we were not done with our conversation, that he would revisit the topic and soon. "They are roses; a shrub that bears abundant blossoms and can have a wide variety of colors and fragrances. They also have thorns as you found out firsthand."

My lips quirked slightly to his use of words, but they immediately returned to neutral as I realized that he had not intended the pun. "They remind me of the waridi plant back on Thundera. Didn't the royal family have a whole garden dedicated to that shrub?"

Lion-O smiled at a memory. "Yes, we did, and that is why I chose this plant in particular. My father would always request that we have fresh cut waridi branches at the dining table. I remember that I would spend hours in the gardens helping Snarf and Silas chose the best flowers. I would even hide among the plants and jump out and scare poor Snarf. Of course, the flowers back on Thundera were a little less violent than they are here." He glanced at me, his eyes straying quickly to my thorn punctured finger and then lingering on my gauze wrapped hand before returning to my own eyes.

We were not going to let this issue go. I braced myself for a lecture or at least a formal suggestion of discussing my most recent faux pas, but my preparation was for naught. Lion-O cast his gaze behind me at something else.

"We are ready; if you are," Pumyra interrupted, much to my relief.

Lion-O lowered his head in a barely audible sigh. I knew that he wanted to continue our conversation, but it appeared that he would have to grant me a reprieve. "We'll be on our way in just a moment," he answered.

Pumyra nodded her head and headed back to the Acinonyx part of the gardens as quietly as she had arrived. Lion-O gestured for me to precede him. I took a step and faltered. Suddenly, I wasn't sure if this were a reprieve or a punishment of its own.

Sensing my hesitation, the lion reached out and touched my shoulder. "Is this too soon?"

Too soon? My head spun. It was a simple question that had a very complicated answer. After I had awoken in sickbay, I had remembered everything: Kijani's death, the demise of my whole clan, and finally the most devastating of all, the loss of the twins. I had dealt with the first two issues after we had landed on Third Earth. Well, that wasn't the most accurate description of my handling of those events, but I still considered the loss of my mate and clan as being addressed nonetheless. It was the twins, my own flesh and blood, that I had not remembered, and it was the repression of the knowledge that I had been pregnant, that I had not done my best to protect my offspring that had driven me past the breaking point. It was also the even that had led to me almost bleeding out in the Cat's head of the Lair.

Lion-O's dream of Thundera and our surviving clansmen and his involving me in finding them had brought forth my own breakthrough memories. I couldn't figure out how to deal with the truth and coincide it with who I was as a ThunderCat. The road to recovery had been fraught with tears, anger, and regret. I hadn't even come close to scratching the surface.

It was Pumyra who had suggested a ceremony to memorialize my offspring. It was a custom of the Puma clan, especially among the healers, to help the grieving process by holding a ceremony of closure. Lion-O had been taken with the notion, and after my consent, given under the duress of pleasing the Lord of the ThunderCats although he had no idea, he had put forth the plans for the event.

It had become even more of an undertaking for the others since an infection had set into my hand keeping me in the sickbay for more than a week. Thus, this whole memorial had taken place with little input from me. I wasn't sure how this would aid in my grief process, yet I didn't have the heart to stop the proceedings. This gave the others a chance to do something, and I would not take that purpose from them.

I realized that Lion-O was looking at me expectantly and that I had yet to give him an answer. I shook my head slightly to clear the muddle of my thoughts and looked back at him. "Too soon?" I repeated.

He looked at me worriedly but did not interrupt.

I ran my good hand through my hair in an attempt to gather my courage or perhaps buy some more time before answering, "I think, too much time has already passed. But, I would be lying to you if I told you that I was looking forward to this.

"By my own actions, I have invited all of you to share in my painful memories. It is not an invitation I can now revoke." I held my hand up to stop Lion-O from speaking. "I wouldn't shut any of you out now anyway, but I am, have been for three Third Earth solar years, a private individual when it comes to my personal life. You remember Wizz-Ra?"

I watched the lion nodded his head. There was a flash of something else in his eyes at my odd segue, but it disappeared before I could explore it further. Since bringing about Lion-O's feeling on the ancient wizard had not been my original intent, I let it go. "I didn't tell you all about Wizz-Ra until it was almost too late. I made that mistake with Kijani, never telling him," my voice caught in my throat, and I again felt the sting in my heart and the tears suddenly threatening in my eyes.

Lion-O took another step toward me, but I waved him off. If I couldn't get through a simple conversation with him, then perhaps it was too soon. "I will not make that mistake ever again. But, that doesn't mean that this is easy for me."

"I know," Lion-O acknowledged and slid a gentle hand across my shoulders. It was the small bolster of comfort that I needed to get my feet to start moving in the direction of the small assembly of ThunderCats near the Acinonyx section of the garden.

I stared at the small box in my hands. Panthro had designed the box using a special metal that he had found embedded in one of the large chunks of Thundrillium ore. The element was light but moldable and guaranteed not to rust unlike like the steel that the Berbils used on some of their vessels. Panthro said the Berbils called the metal aluminum and that while it could be crushed fairly easily, he had found a way to construct the box to be durable as well as to protect the contents inside from the elements.

The inside. My hands trembled slightly as I gently touched the two miniature gold charms that lay on a velvet cloth. On one side was the symbol of the ThunderCats; on the other was etched the Acinonyx Clan crest. BenGali had worked the design into the charms that Tygra had smelted and cast.

Pumyra had created two sachets of herbs that had a pleasing, restful scent. Next to the herbs were three iridescent stones. Lion-O and Lynx-O had gone to Hook Mountain into the abandoned Mines of the Mystic Chasm and brought back the crystals. These were more than ordinary rocks. If one were psychic, which I am told I am, one could imprint the stones with a psychic memory. Lynx-O promised he would aid me in creating a special impression on the stones at a later time. I guess, he could sense my slowly shutting down from the overwhelming events unfolding before me.

Snarf and Wily Kat had already planted the three seedling forget-me-nots to honor Kijani and the twins. I was glad that they had done so without my aid. I would not have been very effective trying to dig with the gauze still wrapped around my healing hand, and Pumyra would not have looked kindly on my getting her dressing dirty either especially after the infection.

The ThunderCats must have all seen the wisdom in giving me space. They had stood for a while in silence before the beautiful sculpture that BenGali had created. Tygra and Snarfer had augmented the base of the statue to cast an eternal flame. The endless light was constructed by burning the exhaust gases of some of Cat's Lair's systems. It made for a surreal but peaceful retreat.

As each ThunderCat paid his or her respects, a white rose was laid at the base of the statue near the flame. Nine roses currently lay before me. Slowly, I set the box in my hands into the ground. I took one last look at the contents and began to lower the lid when I heard a soft cough behind me. I turned to see Kit standing almost in the shadows. I had been so lost in my thoughts, my grief, that I had not noticed that she was still present.

"I, I hope you don't mind," the young Felis stammered. She suddenly looked much younger than her age, "but I went into the archives to look into the Acinonyx Clan history."

I was silent for a moment digesting the information. I was the keeper of the archives. Kit had not told me that she was going to use them. To go behind my back, not get permission, was a major infraction. Even if I had been laid up as I was in sickbay, she still should have asked for permission. "I see," I commented, even though I clearly did not.

"Here." Kit thrust a rolled up piece of paper reminiscent of a scroll into my hands. Without another word, she laid her rose on the others and practically ran from the courtyard.

I watched the young wildcat disappear into the darkness of the edges of the garden before turning my attention to my hands. Carefully, I removed the small scrap of cloth tying the parchment closed and unrolled it. My eyes fell on familiar greens staring back at me. Even immortalized on paper, those emeralds seemed to see beyond me, stare into my soul. In shock, I dropped the paper, which floated gently to the ground to lay against the still opened memorial box. Unable to support me, my legs gave out, and I found myself on my knees staring into the face of my mate, Kijani.

Pain, fresh and raw, ran through me upon seeing him, whole, once more. It was the pain of loss, loss with which I thought I had come to terms, but apparently that had been a convenient lie I had told myself. Of their own accord, my trembling hands reached out and touched the paper. It was a two-dimension surface, but I desperately wished for it to be three-dimensional. To touch him once more, have the chance to tell him…

The barriers of my composure disintegrated, and I fell to the ground, prostrate, weeping from my heart, for my heart. In the recesses of my grief-clouded mind, I suddenly understood the willow legend more than I thought possible.

I didn't register the hands that scooped me from the earth or the warmth of the body that held my pain-wracked body. I just poured myself from the inside out.

Eventually the respite of numbness came, and I was able to orient myself to my surroundings. Slowly, I pulled away from Lion-O's embrace. I didn't have the courage to look at him, nor did I have the strength to move from my half-kneeling, half-reclining position. Without words, the lion helped me to sit in a more comfortable position.

We sat there in the gardens for a long time, neither of us willing to break our shared silence. Eventually, Lion-O leaned over and picked up the portrait of Kijani. He was beginning to roll it closed when I reached out to stop him.

"She did an incredible job," I said, not recognizing the raw voice as my own.

Lion-O's hand stilled under mine. It was strange. Sometime when we inadvertently touched I would have the oddest sensations between us. I'd feel as if I could understand him even without words. Other times, I could get no sense from the lion at all. Now was one of those times. I could not read him even if I had control of my sixth sense.

"Is this Kijani?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied and finally looked into the young lord's face. I was surprised to see a mirror of my own sorrow etched indelibly across his face. I couldn't seem to stop myself, and my hand grazed against his cheek. I was surprised to find the fine fur of his face was damp as well. Had he shed tears along with me?

Lion-O closed his eyes briefly at my touch, and he reached one of his hands to close around mine. He lowered our hands to rest against his thigh. Squeezing my fingers gently, he then slid his hand from my grasp. I felt almost bereft at the lack of physical contact, but I refrained from reaching for him again. Perhaps I had pushed the bounds of our friendship too far.

"Tell me about him, about your life before this," Lion-O's hands gestured to the courtyard and Cat's Lair, but I knew what he meant.

With no more prompting I began to tell him of Kijani, of Thundera, through the eyes of a young cheetah. The stories seemed to pour out of me like a dam that had to release its water or be doomed to breaking. I told him the story of Kijani's and my first meeting. How Kijani had dared me into a race. How I had beaten him fair and square. I told him of the Acinonyx Clan trials to become eligible for the Thunderian guard, the ThunderCats. I told him about my mating, how my brother, Cheterex, had tried to hide me away. The silly pranks that Kijani and Chet would play on each other, with each other against me.

The moon was fading into early dawn before I realized that we had spent the whole night in the courtyard listening to stories of my life. I was surprised at the number of times we laughed. I was even more surprised by the sudden lightness I felt within my spirit. Perhaps, Pumyra had been correct. By looking into my life, sharing it and allowing it to be what it was, I had made room for a future.

Without warning, a burst of laser fire shook the earth at our feet. The blast had been so close, my ears rang with the explosion, and my nose stung with the acrid smell of burning earth. We had been lounging on the ground near the Acinonyx statue, but within moments, we were both on our feet with weapons held in defense.

A Sky Cutter sliced through the lightening sky as it readied for another pass. I saw a volley of return fire shoot through the air from the Cat's eyes. Obviously, Panthro or Tygra, I had no idea who was on watch, was not about to allow an attack on our home go unanswered.

"Cheetara!"

I didn't have time to register more than the voice, as a large shoulder slammed into my solar plexus and pushed me from my feet onto the grassy earth. Wind was forced from my lungs with the ungraceful landing, and I was momentarily stunned.

Lion-O had only a moment to look me over before lunging to his feet. "Ho!" came the shout from the young leader, and a resounding growling flash of the Sword of Omen's raw power split the dawning sky landing a direct hit on the second Sky Cutter that had shot at me, missing me by inches. Lion-O continued his counterattack, still keeping me in the vicinity of his protection as I regained my breath.

I looked to the spot where I had been standing, from where Lion-O had flung me, us, to safety. The lightness that had filled my waning spirit fled as I stared at the charred remains of the beautiful Acinonyx statue fragmented into a heap of rubble. Beneath the debris was the box, still opened and now filled with dirt and crumbled rock. Where the flame had burned now were two fires, one putting itself out, the other flaming to heights that were never intended.

"No," I screamed, as I saw the lingering second flame. I ran to the spot with the swiftness for which I am known, but it was too late. I kicked at the flame attempting to put it out, but the beautiful oils that Kit had used in her drawing of Kijani worked as an accelerant. Only ash remained as the fire died at my feet.

Fury filled my brain banishing all thoughts. I could taste the anger, bitter and metallic. Without thought, my bow staff sprang to full length, and I vaulted into the air. My target was the Nose Diver just cresting the far wall. My aim was true. I landed hard on the tip of the vehicle's nose. My weight threw the machine off mark, and I back flipped off the craft to land safely on the ledge of wall while the craft careened with a glancing blow into the northwest corner of the Lair.

My eyes narrowed in anger as the pilot of the Nose Diver righted the vehicle and managed to resume another attack. I caught the sight of green scales, and my previous anger turned to molten rage.

S-Slithe, my brain seemed to sing the name as a mantra. Murderer! He was the one responsible for the attack on the Flagship, for the destruction of my clan, my mate. Hate seeped into my brain, and I allowed the emotion to take over my thoughts, my actions. Today the reptilian would pay for his transgressions.

I squared off with the machine. My intentions were clear. A volley of laser fire aimed at where I had been standing scorched the wall. I was no longer there. Instead of jumping backward to avoid the weapon's deadly intent, I launched myself into the path of the vehicle, expertly weaving around the micro-explosions. The lasers were so close I could feel the heat, smell the fur on my arms as it was singed by the blasts.

I felt the corners of my mouth twist into a smile that was anything but pleasant as I came hard at the reptile. The surprise was written on his face. I could see the yellows of his eyes grow wide with terror. The last thing he expected was a kamikaze counterattack.

At the last possible second, the cowardly reptilian veered to the right. I was only able to land a glancing blow on the control panel before the vehicle skittered into a sideways slide and then, by some unholy miracle, righted itself before blazing away, spewing a trail of noxious smoke behind it.

The jolt of the impact of my staff with the controls of the Nose Diver jarred my shoulder; I barely managed to let go of the bo before it could shattered my bones. The sudden slippage of the vehicle tossed me to the side like a rag doll flung by an irritated cub. I landed hard against the Lair's west side. I barely managed to twist my body so that my head didn't take the brunt of the impact. As it were, my skull suffered a glancing blow that brought eclipsing stars to my eyes.

The sounds of battle kept me conscious, and I staggered to my feet from were I had been thrown. The mutants had brought their reinforcements. There were caches of canidae, reptiles, and simians. Only the avians appeared to be absent from the skirmish, probably holding down the fort in the unlikely chance of an attack on their home turf.

Lion-O came to my side, hitting a mutant, jackal, I think, as he came over the edge of one of the bushes toward me. The canine recoiled with the blow that the lion landed on his snout and scampered away on all fours, in fright, at the larger cat's presence.

"Are you okay?" Lion-O asked, sparing a moment to check me over, before reassessing the battlefield. I looked out at the fray as well. It appeared that the rest of the ThunderCats had the battle well in hand. We heard the command for a retreat, and then as quickly as they had arrived the mutants fled the grounds of the Lair.

"You didn't answer my question," Lion-O prompted again.

"No," I responded purposefully using ambiguity and walking to retrieve my bo staff. I glanced over the weapon pleased to see that it had weathered the battle probably better than I.

I could feel the lion following close behind me, his gaze burning into my back. It was unlikely that he would allow my answer to stand with no more explanation. Collapsing the bo staff and securing it back into my arm cuff, I took a moment to look at the damage the mutants had wreaked.

Even in the absence of Mumm-Ra, those miserable creatures would refuse us a peaceful existence. My eyes fell to the ruined gardens the memorials to our loved ones, trampled, destroyed. A burning pain triggered deep inside my brain. No more.

Very carefully, I removed the ThunderCat emblem from my bodice. I had been right the weeks before this when I had attempted to give Lion-O the insignia. I was not worthy to wear the symbol of honor.

Words begging his understanding and forgiveness died on my lips as I turned once more to the ruined monument. The mutants had destroyed the Acinonyx Clan that fateful day that Thundera had been obliterated. I had not known that then. I had tried to live up to something, anything to keep my clan's spirit alive. But it had been for naught. I would no longer stand in this stalemate. I would no longer allow my fellow Thunderians continue to wage a winless war. This would end today.

"No, Lion-O," I said, surprised at how clear my voice rang. I knelt in front of the lion and placed the ThunderCat emblem at his feet. I knew that the lion would refuse me again, so this time I would not even try to hand it to him. "I'm not okay, but I soon will be."

Not waiting for his reaction, refusing to be dissuaded from a mission I knew I must complete, I ran. My ears heard him call out, call my name. The pleading tone in his voice carried on the wind behind me, but I refused to listen. I did not have that luxury, not anymore.

Author's Notes:

Acinonyx -- Cheetah species/clan

Kijani - Cheetara's mate - Swahili origin, means green

Legend of the Weeping Willow: paraphrased from geocities internet /whisperingwillowacres/Legend.html

Weeping Willow information: borrowed from geocities internet /whisperingwillowacres/WeepingWillow.html

Felis clan designated for Wily Kit and Kat

Kanu: Wily Kit and Kat's father. Swahili origin means wild cat or genet

Katika: Wily Kit and Kat's mother. Swahili (Sheng) origin means dance

Jabari - used as an Acinonyx curse, Swahili origin means, God

waridi - Swahili origin rose