Eye of the Storm

by Knight Writer Thundercat

The war is over, but the story far from told. New loves are found, new challenges accepted, and old enemies make themselves known in the sequel to One Last War to Fight

4. Predtor and Prey, Part One

Eye of the Storm

Episode Four

This place is starting to shape up, Pumyra thought as she entered the new Medical Wing of the under-construction Cat's Lair. She winced slightly as the cub within her kicked yet again, pressing her hand against her rotund stomach. She waddled through the doorway, hiding the grimace as best she was able. All of the overhead lights were on, she noted with satisfaction as she made her way through the rows of beds. The Medical Wing and, as such, the maternity ward, had been among the areas of the new Cat's Lair to be completed first. She had put it to Lion-O, rather succinctly in her view, that one of the first things growing populations did were to both expand and injure themselves. The injuries which had come through first the first-aid tent and the Medical Wing had been thankfully minor. As for the part about women with cub, there had been none yet but she had a strong feeling that would change before long. As such, this part of the new Cat's Lair was the first in all New Thundera Colony to receive power from the excavated reactor.

Most of the more technical equipment had yet to be brought in, aside from the data terminals and her samples of G-Cells. Pumyra had been adamant about them being placed into a permanent form of storage ASAP, seeing as how harvesting more would be more than a little difficult.

"Pumyra!" Siberias exclaimed once he turned from the data terminal on his desk to catch sight of her. "You shouldn't be up and about..."

"Save it," she groused. "I have to do something aroud here."

"Not in your condition you don't," Siberias replied as he rushed to her side. Kyranna appeared seemingly from nowhere to catch her other side. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep still?"

"A short walk won't harm anything," she said, somewhat resenting the attention. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"No, you are very pregnant, and not long from giving birth. You know as well as I that you should remain in bed until it is time!"

"It's not time yet!" she snapped. "Besides, I need to do something useful!"

"If you mean the G-Cells, forget it," Siberias said in his always-even voice. "They are preserved, and they can wait."

"I neeed something to do!" she snapped before reigning herself in. "I mean, I can't stay cooped up all the time..."

"Pumyra, sweetheart, I know," Kyranna said soothingly. "But you have to rest. You can't push yourself..."

"Better than Bengali hovering over me. He's been doing that for weeks!"

"He is merely a concerned father," Siberias explained as he deftly steered Pumyra to a bed. "Trust us, Pumyra, just rest and relax. Young Darin, like all infants, will arrive on his own timetable. You'll know when the moment he does."

"There's..."

"None of that!" Siberias said in a tone that would brook no arguement. "You will take rest on that bed, or I will secure you down with medical tape myself!" He smiled softly at her. "Technically, I outrank you."

"That's dirty pool," Pumyra said, relenting at last as she let Kyranna ease her onto the cushioned bed.

"From here until your delivery, I hereby confine you to that bed," Siberias said in his best Professor tone. "I'll make a note of it to Lion-O as well. Face it, you're stuck there until Darin makes his grand debut. My authority."

"Meanie," Pumyra said, knowing he was right.

"We have to be sometimes."

"I know. Alright, I'll stay here."

"How is it?" Panthro asked as he traversed the stone stairs which had been hastily carved to replace the rope ladders in the lowest reaches of Cat's Lair. The thundrillium generator from the first Lair dominated the main space in the artificial cavern which had been carved to house the immense machine.

"Given that the only major facility it's powering is the Lair's medical wing, the reactor's in good shape," Tygra replied from his station at the base of the immense crystalline structure. "Total power demand is only one fiftieth of the original Lair. I haven't picked up any anomalies so far."

"Just how much can this reactor power?" Panthro asked as he came alongside Tygra in the somewhat dim depths of the new Cat's Lair.

"The entire colony plus room to spare," Tygra replied, wiping a forearm across his brow. "We designed it for if others found their way here, after all."

"True. Still, I can't help but think we're gonna need a bigger one soon."

"I know, but building a larger reactor will take time which is somewhat scarce at present."

"No one said rebuilding a society on a new world was easy."

"In our recorded history, no one's tried it at all."

"A major first for Thunderians, huh?"

"That's an understatement," Tygra replied as he stepped back from the reactor. "All told, we're on track."

"Good to hear. Development topside's really coming along. The foodfruit trees are growing nicely."

"That'll be a huge help next winter. All of the rations were eaten in the last one."

"Won't see me complaining. Damn nasty things."

"At least those Mutant supplies sustained us," Tygra reminded Panthro as they neared the stairs.

"They still tasted like ass."

"Is that the voice of experience?" Tygra asked lightly.

"Wha... Damnit, Tygra!"

"You left yourself wide open for that one."

"You've gotten a little snide in your old age."

"Old?"

"You left yourself wide open for that one."

Friends since cubhood, the two left the reactor chamber of Cat's Lair, laughing at their own remarks.

The Rat-Star came to a full stop in the endless sea of stars in the expanse of space just outside the Sol System. Ratar-O glared at the viewscreen which showed the system, notably at the blue-green world which was the third out from the system's core star. Two Simians occupied the helm stations at the fore of the ship, a Scavenger manning the science station.

"The other ship is nearing the docking bay," the Simian on the right called out. "Docking procedures initiated."

"Escort him to my ready room," Ratar-O said curtly before nodding to Meliz. The two stepped to the door set in the rear of the Bridge.

The ready room was well furnished, unlike other areas of the Rat-Star, or even the Warhammer. The seats boasted thick cushions, walls done in false wood paneling. The entire area was designed for comfort and relaxation. The Rat-Star's ready room was the only spot aboard any of Ratar-O's ships which acknowledged a need for comfort beyond the basics. The two waited for several minutes until the door chime sounded.

"Enter!" Ratar-O called out.

"Nice place," the bald human said as he cast an appreciative eye on the surroundings. His frame was thick and muscular beneath a beige outfit bearing many pockets. His black boots gleamed in the lights of the ready room. His face was strong and angular, a thin moustache drooping just below his thin lips. "To what do I owe the honor of being summoned here?" The man's voice was loud to the point of being gregarious, though the glint of cunning in his near-black eyes showed his predatory heart, particulary the eye behind the monocle he wore on his right.

"Your reputation for starters, Safari Joe," Ratar-O replied as the human took a seat opposite him. "Or rather, the serious hit it's taken recently." Joe's eyes narrowed at the verbal barb, indignant rage seething within them.

"If you've called me out here just to insult me..."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Ratar-O replied. "You just didn't let me finish. I want to offer you a chance to remove the tarnish on your otherwise stellar record. After all, you are the greatest big-game hunter ever to live. Or so I'm told." He kept his tone earnest, without a hint of condescencion.

"The greatest," Safari Joe repeated before blowing out a frustrated sigh and shaking his head in disgust. "At least I was once."

"The ThunderCats, I hear, had something to do with putting the kibosh on that record of yours."

"You could say that... hey, how do you know about that?!"

"I have eyes and ears in more than a few places. I know, for instance, that you had some very rich clients at one time. You'd charge an exorbitant fee for leading a small party on a hunt for various rare and, not to put too fine a point on it, forbidden game. I even know," Ratar-O continued, leaning forward and whispering in a conspiritorial voice, "that some of their prey walked on two legs rather than four. Or six. Or eight. You get my meaning."

"Are..."

"No, this isn't about blackmail, either," Ratar-O snapped. "As I said, I want to restore your reputation, by giving you the chance and the equipment you'll need to take on the only prey which ever escaped you."

"I almost had 'em," Safari Joe snarled. "That Lion-O got lucky. They all got lucky."

"They won't get lucky again, will they?"

"What's in this for you?" the human asked, suddenly wary.

"Nothing much," Ratar-O said, leaning back and lacing his fingers together in front of his chest. "I've always heard how... stimulating... the illegal hunts you led were. As we speak, my men are installing a cloak on your ship."
"You've got one of those?!"

"And it's yours to use on this hunt, provided you accept. Also, I'm willing to pay for each successful bag. Ten thousand credits live, five thousand dead. Either way, you stand to make quite a pile of money, aside from having that nasty black mark on you removed."

"That'll show those soft bastards," the human said, "that'll show 'em who's the best hunter. This'll put me back on top!"

"My assistance doesn't end there, my friend," Ratar-O said. "You'll be facing even more ThunderCats than the last time. I've compiled quite the database on them." He snapped his fingers, signalling the Rat-Star's computer to open the recess in the left wall of the ready room. The robot emerged, jet-black metal gleaming in the artificial lighting. Its torso was ovoid, with multiple limbs poised and ready with a deadly array of bladed and beam weapons. The head was directly atop, without the bother of a neck, three inverted crimson triangles serving as its optics. Its base was flat, supported by treads on either side. The machine rolled into the ready room before the torso rose up from the base and the middle two arms extended clawed forearms and hands.

"Son of a bitch," Safari Joe whispered at the sight. "What is it?"

"Give it whatever name you like," Ratar-O said. "This robot will aid you in your hunt. Its databanks are loaded with intel about the ThunderCats you faced before, along with the new recruits. It's also capable of assisting you directly with hunts."

"Packhorse," Safari Joe said, addressing the machine.

"Acknowledged," the robot said in reply. "Unit designation is now Packhorse. Shall I provide the intel briefing?"

"Uh... Not now."

"Acknowledged."

"So," Ratar-O said, "are you up to it?"

"Just let me at 'em!"

"That's what I wanted to hear! I look forward to the hunt, Safari Joe." The human rose and took his leave, the robot now named Packhorse rolling behind on its treads. "Oh, by the way, there's one target I'm willing to pay rather handsomely for. However, he is the most dangerous. Packhorse will fill you in." Safari Joe nodded once before exiting with the robot. "Status?" he asked Meliz.

"Installation of the cloak will be finished within the hour," Meliz replied.

"Good. So, son, what do you think of his chances?"

"Given the intel the Spy Star managed to gain, he doesn't have a chance to catch them all."

"You're referring to that Guyver creature?"

"Precisely."

"It doesn't matter." Ratar-O opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out two iron flasks and a bottle of prime kirgash. "It's not like I expect him to survive anyhow."

"Which is why you offered such a reward."

"Precisely," he said, imitating his son's tone. "Then, I'm sure you've figured out why I went to the trouble of bringing that idiot here?"

"You plan to use him as a distraction," Meliz said evenly as he accepted the iron flask from Ratar-O's outstretched hand. "He will keep the Thunderian colony occupied while we make planetfall."

"Oh, very good. So long as he keeps their eyes on the ground, our approach will go undetected for as long as possible."

"That robot will also have an uplink to the Warhammer, I assume?"

"Have I ever told you that I'm proud of you?"

"More than once, father."

"There's a reason for that. You'll make a fine commander one day."

"Thank you."

Safari Joe took a seat behind the main control console of his ship, letting the winking lights of the viewscreen and instrument panels wash over him. He had never met the strange being which called himself Ratar-O before, but his offer was impossible to turn down. He leaned back in the overstuffed cushioning as his vessel detached from the Rat-Star with a cruel grin twisting his lips.

The humiliation of it still stung, not only being beaten at his own game but actually being forced to pretend to forsake hunting. The dark one, Panthro, had altered Mule's programming to prevent him from resuming his career. He had promptly destroyed the robot afterward, thinking that the problem of his only loss had been solved.

But, the ThunderCats had been determined to humiliate him.

Once in orbit, and before he could turn his rifle against his former cybernetic assistant, Mule had accessed subspace communication channels and had broadcast his defeat on every clandestine frequency to every former and potential client and illegal hunting service in his computer's main memory. It had been, until now, the final blow to his reputation as a game hunter. None of the men whom he'd once led into the wildlands of primitive worlds in search of elusive game and bragging rights would so much as return his calls. He had been shunned by society, by his fellow gentlemen, and cast into the cold of banishment. Safari Joe found himself turning to drink, drowning his sorrows in bottle after bottle of progressively cheaper scotch as his capital dwindled.

But, there would be no more of that. The old fire burned in a way it never had before after hearing Ratar-O's offer. He would take it all back, his name, his reputation, his prestige. All of it.

And, as he returned triumphant into proper society, he would offer Lion-O's severed head as proof that he still had it.

"Packhorse," he said, motioning the robot to wheel itself next to his seat, "display prey data."
"Acknowledged," the machine rumbled in its deep synthetic voice. "Displaying data on ThunderCat prey: Lion-O..."

"Skip him," Safari Joe snapped, calling up his own files from the interface near his right hand. "Begin display with this Bengali fellow."

"Sir..."

"No back-talk, you," Safari Joe growled. "I faced Lion-O and his kitty pals before. I need data on those I haven't hunted before, not the ones I had caged."

"Acknowledged," Packhorse agreed. His three optics shimmered as the image of a white Tyger appeared on the main viewscreen. "ThunderCat prey: Bengali. Occupation: Blacksmith. Weapons: Hammer of Thundera." At this, the hammer on the hip of the image was highlighted. "Weapon is capable of firing energy bursts capable of stunning most adult humanoids. Subject also carries a sledge hammer on his back, which is capable of releasing disruptive energy on contact with hard surfaces." The long hammer on the image's back spun into view, data readouts scrolling alongside it. "Bengali is known to have an aggressive temper, and can be quick to anger under proper circumstances."

"A hothead," Safari Joe mused.

"ThunderCat prey: Pumyra." The image changed to a svelte female. "Occupation: Healer. Weapon: Belt which doubles as a sling with various projectiles."

"Doesn't look like much."

"Prey is, according to my data, near to birthing a child and will be heavily protected."

"No point in bagging a pregger," he said. "Got to have future generations to kill. Next."

"ThunderCat prey: Lynx-O."

"Are you shitting me?!" he asked as the image of an old, yet still-fit, man appeared. "A bloody codger?!"

"Occupation: Tactical specialist. Weapon: Light Disk worn on right arm. Prey's advanced age and lack of sight are not detrimental to combat performance. Subject is a master of Thunderian neuro-pressure techniques, which can incapacitate any opponent. Though it is not confirmed, it is believed these techniques can be fatal."

"Pffftt... My ruddy arse. Next!"

"ThunderCat Prey: Kyranna." A female member of the Lion clan appeared on the main screen, her form willowy beneath the red-on-black outfit she wore. "Occupation: Apprentice Healer. Subject possesses no paranormal capabilities. Subject is also new to the role of ThunderCat, and as such is inexperienced in battle."

"Next." Blimey, I'm already bored...

"ThunderCat Prey: Torr. Occupation: Agricultural Specialist."

"A ruddy farmer..."

"Subject is mate to Kyranna. Subject is armed with a charged scythe, with which he is rather skilled." The image of the wicked-looking weapon appeared next to the image of Torr. "Subject is also inexperienced in combat."

"Sounds promising after all. Next."

"ThunderCat Prey: Laheela."

"Easy on the eyes, this one."

"Occupation: Warrior. Subject employs twin projectile weapons as her primary method of offense. Said weapons are highly effective at both short and medium range."

"Pistol-packin' mama. I like it!"

"ThunderCat Prey: Myrlha. Occupation: Warrior. Subject's experience as a former dancer endows her with various evasive techniques. Primary weapon is an energized ribbon, with which subject can deliver debilitating electrical shocks. When a stable current is passed through the material, said ribbon can easily slice through most non-metallic substances."

"One thing about these ThunderCat women," Safari Joe mused, "they can be fiercer than the men."

"ThunderCat Prey: Siberias. Occupation: Healer."

"Another bloody doctor... And another damned codger. Skip it!"

"Acknowledged."

"So," he said as he leaned back into his seat, "what's the deal with that special one I was told to look out for?"

"Human Prey: Sho Fukamachi." The image of a young human appeared on the main viewscreenm his frame tightly muscled beneath the black tunic and blue pants he wore.

"I should really reconsider this," Safari Joe sighed. "What's the challenge?"

"Subject," Packhorse continued, "has the ability to transform into a creature known as the Guyver, an enhanced being with extraordinary powers and abilities." Safari Joe listened as Packhorse detailed the weapons and abilities the young man had in his transformed state, his stomach finding itself in the vicinity of his feet.

"Bloody hell..." he managed once the robot had finished.

"You did ask where the challenge was," it said in an even, yet somehow snide, tone.

"I guess I got my answer. That whelp's a killing machine!"

"But, only in his Guyver form," Packhorse provided.

"Yes..." Safari Joe said at length. "While human, he's as vulnerable as anyone else. What's the offer on this one?"

"One million alive. Seventy thousand dead."

"I think I have a plan, that I do," Safari Joe said, a wicked gleam of avarice in his eyes. "Oh, yes. How long until we reach Third Earth?"

"Upon engaging hyper-spatial drives, we will reach Third Earth in twenty hours." Packhorse had no data concerning the Warhammer's warp drive, and would not have divulged it even if the machine did. Nor would it divulge the fact that it maintained a covert subspace link with said Mutant ship. Lastly, it would not alert its new master to the fact that his chances for survival were far less than optimal. Though the human did not know it, he was nothing more than another piece on the board.

"Alert me when we're about to make planetfall. I've some preparations to make."

"Acknowledged."

Cartography duty. It was as close to a day off as Cheetara had come since construction of the colony had commenced. It was, depite its importance, a chance to relax so far as those who drew it were concerned. Exploring and mapping new areas of the continent was all well and good, but the minimal effort it required made for a welcome respite from quarrying, hauling, building, and the like. Two hundred Thunderians and nearly half as many Berbils were working as hard as they were able to build this new home, aside from those establishing a perennial food source and those hunting new meat until said source was fully established. In a major break from time-honored tradition, some men went on the hunts as well. Nowhere was it said that Thunderian males were forbidden to hunt, and some of the most skilled of that craft had been men, but women had upheld the role for centuries.

She ran through the grasslands south of the new colony, taking in the sights as only she could. It was a chance to let her mind wander, to shake off the labors of building a new home for just a short while. Also, it let her forget the obligations being more or less betrothed to Lion-O brought.

She had told him none of this, but the thoughts still worried her from time to time. Until they were formally joined, they were only lovers. If they conceived a child, said cub had to be born while in wedlock, or the ranks of succession would not allow him to attain the throne. She did not want her first child to be treated as a bastard, and as such had been secretly relieved that the constant workload had put such a damper on their intimate relationship. Lion-O, sadly, knew so little of the nuances of life for the Nobility, and would have no opportunity to learn anytime soon. Given the way he was, he would not take well to some of it.

She had no problems with the thought of becoming his mate, and therefore his queen, but she still had no real idea if he was ready to take their relationship to that level of committment. He had so much to learn about actually being a king that she sometimes worried he would not be able to be a good husband, or father.

That's not always relevant, she told herself as the grasslands blurred past. Cheetara hated the thought of dooming the first love she'd had since Cougrix to the vagaries of Thunderian politics and traditions, no matter how vital they might be to society as a whole. She'd lost one love to torture, she did not want to lose another to necessity no matter how vital it might be.

Maybe I shouldn't have taken that step with him, she thought ruefully. Maybe I shouldn't have taken him to my bed. That, at least, would have kept me from thinking these thoughts.

She did not want to be a trophy, or an heir-factory. What woman would? For the first time, she was having doubts about having become his lover, even though such was irrelevant.

Not to mention that Panthro would get on their cases eventually. The Panther was a stickler for tradition, and she had sensed that he had something to say on their relationship for awhile, now. In the beginning he had wholeheartedly approved, but that had been before discovering so many of their countrymen enslaved by the former Mutant Army and having become a viable race again.

If I break it off, she thought, I'd crush him. Not to mention myself. It would be as though I used him. Gah, why do these things have to so damned complicated?

Absorbed as she was in thought, Cheetara failed to notice the slight rise in the earth before her until she stepped on it. The wall of concussive force utterly destroyed her stride, sending her ass-over-teakettle across the soft grass as the soil impacted her again and again and again. Blackness claimed her before she skidded to a halt.

Cartography duty. It wasn't Sho's favorite thing, but it did allow him a chance to take in the sights of Third Earth, and note as many differences between what he saw and what he could remember. He wondered, as the spaceboard he had learned how to operate glided above the fragrant earth between stands of mighty trees, why practically nothing of this nation still stood. Had the battle against Kronos been truly that intense? He shook his head, clearing it of ruminations about the past he'd lost. That was then, and he had the here and now to focus on.

He had Myrlha to focus on.

On switching his train of thought to those tracks, a gentle warmth flowed through his chest. They shared a tent, yet their relationship had made only slow progress on the physical front. Neither minded overmuch, not wanting to rush things between them. It was even true on the surface, but the underlying reason was that after a day of work building the new colony they were both too damn tired for anything other than a gentle kiss and a light meal before bedding down for the night. Things had settled into a comfortable rhythm, and both were content for the time being. Sho, for his part, looked forward to when they took things another step. And another. And another, until...

Down boy, he chided himself as he steered between two thick trunks. He could ill afford to lose his concentration while on a spaceboard, as his earlier attempts to learn the skill had taught him.

Sho had forgone his cloak, electing to save that particular accessory for special occaisions. His plain blue tunic and midnight pants outlined hard musculature developed over the months of backbreaking work in the quarry and in molding the harvested stone into a new Cat's Lair and homes for the people he was coming to call his own countrymen, despite the obvious difference in appearance. The boots he wore were the same shade of crimson as the fingerless gloves which adorned his hands and the amulet which bore his own insignia of a Vanguard adorned his neck. He had not transformed since the day they had recovered the reactor from the ruins of the original Lair, clearing the rubble from beneath with the megasmasher. Sho found he didn't much miss the bio-booster armor while working harder than he ever had mining Thundrillium. Though his formal training had yet to begin, Panthro was still his sensei and had made it absolutely clear that the Guyver had best not see the light of day unless he found himself in a life or death scenario and even then only if there was no other option available.

"SHO!"

The agonized shriek nearly spilled him from the spaceboard. His heart beat somewhere around his throat as he whipped his head about for the source of the cry. The torment in that one word distorted the voice, and it was a moment before he could place a face to it.

Cheetara.

It came again, and Sho very nearly summoned the Guyver. She sounded like she had just endured the torment of the damned, the pain in her voice so raw. He steered the antigrav board to his right, where he had finally pinpointed her location. Thick brambles tangled in his path, forcing him to go higher into the limbs of several trees.

What the hell is she doing here? he asked himself as one fact came to him belatedly. They had split up to map out different areas of the southern veldt, she heading east and him taking the west. What could have made her double back?

"Where are you?!" he shouted, still unable to see her after several tense moments. A pain-wracked scream was his only reply, sounding from a narrow dip in the earth several meters ahead. Sho leaned forward, accellerating the spaceboard and angling down to find...

"What the fuck?" A tiny metal box was nestled into the grass, a grated hole atop it which was obviously a speaker. Before he could bring the board to a complete stop, a puff of air to his left sounded. It was too little warning.

The impact to his ribs stunned him and knocked him off of the spaceboard. Small pincers dug into his flesh and electricity coursed through his muscles. Sho's body went instantly rigid as the current did its work and the abyss of unconsciousness claimed him.

"Wakey wakey." The voice seemed to come through thick gauze. He mumbled something, his mind slow and fogged. "Time to get up." The care in those words seemed false, somehow, mocking. Sho tried to gather his scattered thoughts, piece together the fragmented images of... "GET YOUR ASS UP!" The bellowed command, along with the savage impact in his abdomen which drove the breath from his lungs, snatched him from the hazy comfort of half-sleep and into a nightmare.

Sho coughed as the pain radiated out from his stomach in nauseating waves. He forced himself to look up at his tormentor, pumping every ounce of indignant fury into his eyes as he prepared to spring.

"Oh, you'd love to take a shot at me, I'd think," the bald human said, idly fingering the round shaft of the strange rifle Sho'd been buttstroked with. "You're gonna have some problems with that, Sho."

Ice filled his heart at the mention of his own name. How did this man know it?

Oh, balls...

He finally registered the presence of shackles on his wrists, keeping them securely behind him. Metal straps about his upper and lower legs kept them pinned to the hard metal surface he sat on.

"Before you transform," the stranger said as he ran a finger over his thin moustache, "you might want to get a peek behind you." Sho twisted as much as the metal band about his midsection would allow, and was both disheartened and unsurprised at the glimpse of black-spotted blonde hair that greeted the corner of his eye.

"If you've hurt her..."

"There's not a single damn thing you can do about it, Guyver."

Just how much does this bastard know?!

"You could change, of course," he went on in the most half-assed attempt at an Austrailian accent Sho had ever heard. "Just one word, and I'm a dead man. But," he leaned in closer, his breath enough to make a maggot gag in Sho's opinion, "I won't be the only corpse you leave behind."

"So where are we?" Sho glared up at him, hoping to keep him talking. He didn't expect an honest answer, but perhaps he could trip his captor up.

"Cheetara," he said instead, walking languidly about to Sho's back. "Seems you're my guest again, eh?"

"Not by choice," she spat, "and I see you haven't learned the first thing about hospitality."

"That tongue's as sharp as ever," he replied. He heard a vicious slap ring out, followed by a pained grunt from Cheetara.

"Leave her alone!"

"Maybe I should cut it out this time?" Sho heard rustling behind him, picturing despite himself their captor holding Cheetara roughly by the chin. The sound of a blade being unsheathed sounded loud as a gunshot. "Tempting, but I want as many of you cats alive as possible. Only one's gonna die, and I don't think you need me to say who."

Cheetara glared daggers at Safari Joe, a human she'd hoped never to meet again. Her mouth was filled with the coppery tang of blood from the backhand she'd just received, a trickle flowing from the corner of her lips. Safari Joe said no more, merely resheathing the thin knife in his boot and taking his leave. Only when he was gone did she allow her shoulders to slump. The spill she'd taken while running had left her sore and scraped, her leotard ripped in places on her stomach and legs. She was moderately grateful that her breasts remained covered. Thunderian attitudes toward nudity notwithstanding, she hated the thought of them exposed to trash like him.

"I think it's safe to assume you've met him before," Sho said from behind.

"And I don't like him any more than I did then." She strained briefly, only to confirm that neither of them were going anywhere of their own volition.

"Are you okay?"

"I've been better," she groused. "Why's he come back? I don't like this one bit."

"Not that you're unpleasant company," Sho replied, fidgeting slightly and aggravating a scrape on her back, "but I'm none too fond of being chained to someone, either." She chuckled a little at his wit. "What's his name, anyway?"

"Safari Joe. He's an illegal game hunter."

"Corny name, a poacher, and a kidnapper. That's the Douchebag Triple Crown, if ever I've seen it. Well, you guys beat him before..."

"About that," she said, interrupting his hopeful words. "We got lucky last time."

"... shit..."

"He got all of us, and almost got Lion-O, too. If Snarf hadn't launched a bucket at his head, we'd all be displays in a trophy room on some planet or other."

"Well, there's more of us this time around. They'll come for us. Man, I never thought I'd be saying something like that."

"You can't be the one to heroically charge to the rescue every time." She breathed in, noted that the trickle of blood which had reached her chin was now dry, and considered her next words carefully. She knew what Sho's reaction would be. "Sho, I need you to listen to me."

"I can manage that."

"If Safari Joe manages a repeat of what happened the last time he was here, you have to transform." Silence was her only answer for several seconds.

"Cheetara," Sho began, "have you taken a giant leap away from your good senses?!" His voice was high, frightened at the notion of what she'd just said.

"I know you don't want to hear this, and I don't want to say it."

"You can't be giving..."

"Sho, shut up and listen to me!" She breathed deeply for a few seconds before continuing. "I'm not writing off the chance of a rescue, and I hope that's how it goes, but you've never faced anyone like Safari Joe before. In your Guyver form he won't be a match for you. I'm only putting this as a final option."

"Okay..."

"The more of us are captured, the fewer of us will be out there to keep Lion-O safe. When he said only one of us would die, Lion-O the one he was referring to. Sho, we cannot let that happen."

"The others will come for us," he said, his voice hard as stone. "Count on it."

"I am, Sho. Belive me, I am." Cheetara forced herself to relax, to dull the ache from her assault. She hoped for all she was worth that they would be pulled from this nightmare trap, but had to admit that it might not happen this time. Safari Joe, ridiculous name notwithstanding, was extremely good at what he did. She had to admit to the possibility of not surviving her captivity here, and hated the thought that her life might have to be taken by someone she called a friend in order to save the most important man in her people's future.

That, she knew, was one of the risks that came with the title of ThunderCat. Cheetara only hoped, if worse came to worst, that the young man would one day be able to forgive himself.

The sun began its descent from its apogee in the pale blue sky, and Lion-O found himself worried. The unfinished control center of the new Cat's Lair had just been interfaced into the reactor and the available systems were just now coming online. He looked about the ovoid chamber, seeing bank after bank of open sockets awaiting the sensor relays Panthro had just finished devising from the Mutant warships they had captured after the battle. Coils of cable dotted the floorspace with Berbils and Thunderians working in tandem to ready the relevant systems for full installation. The space was a constant hum of noise which had grown used to over the past several weeks.

"The Braille Board is functioning at only forty percent of capacity," Lynx-O said from his position at the rear of the raised level of flooring near the rear exit to the room. "However, that is slightly better than projected."

Lion-O only nodded, worry chewing at his guts. He had not felt any urgent summons from the Eye of Thundera, and that had him somewhat concerned. He had said nothing of this to anyone, but his connection to the Eye, and the Sword of Omens, had felt odd, sluggish of late. He kept telling himself that it was the constant workload and the resultant demands it required. He was simply overdoing it.

"Any word from Cheetara or Sho?"

"None, I am afraid."

I'm getting that way myself, he thought. Cheetara, at least, should have come back nearly two hours ago.

"Maybe they're taking their time," Panthro suggested from his spot on the floor where he did his best to integrate Mutant tech with Thunderian. WilyKat knelt to his left, and shot a glance at Lion-O.

"She wouldn't be the first."

I should start wearing the Sword again, Lion-O thought ruefully, remembering that he left it in its stand in the new Sword Chamber. "We should look for them."

"You think something's wrong?" Tygra asked from his station to Lion-O's right.

"Call it a hunch," Lion-O said wearily. The Eye hasn't called me, they're fine. I hope...

"Do you want us to go looking for them?" Tygra asked.

"Yes. Panthro, take Torr and the ThunderTank. Tygra, you and Laheela take the HoverCats." Panthro, during the long winter, had constructed a second HoverCat to make up for it being a one-passenger vehicle. It had been his first experiment in melding Thunderian and Mutant technology, and had turned out remarkably well. "Maybe it's nothing, and I'm overreacting."

It stood rooted in place, scanning the alien environs with a patience that no organic being could come close to. Packhorse took in all sensor data and crunched the inputs into a cohesive stream of raw logic. The low rumble was coming nearer, and was mechanical in nature. The sound reached appropriate decibles and the machine tracked its location. Active sensors went online.

SCANNING...

TARGET VEHICLE: THUNDERTANK

SCANNING...

TWO BIOFORMS DETECTED

Packhorse waited, enhancing its optical sensors to maximum.

THERMOGRAPH ENGAGED...

TWO THUNDERCAT TARGETS PRESENT...

IDENT POSITIVE

TARGET PANTHRO

TARGET TORR

BEGIN WEAPONS ANALYSIS...

WEAPONS CONFORM TO KNOWN DATA

Packhorse eased back from the site where the human Sho had been captured. Options scaled through its visual field, likely chances for success gagued, and a plan was settled on in mere seconds.

Twilight was heavy upon the skies as Panthro guided the ThunderTank to Sho's last known position. He had long since come to the conclusion that Sho and Cheetara were in dire trouble. Nothing else could have kept them from reporting in as scheduled. Anything which could catch Cheetara, or overpower Sho, had to be Bad News.

As such, he kept his head on a swivel as the ThunderTank neared the spot where Sho's transponder signal had vanished.

"You sure they're not just off doing the horizontal bop?" Torr asked from the front passenger seat.

"Positive," he said in reply.

"Just saying," Torr replied. "When Kyranna and I first got together, getting around her father was..."

"Shut up. Now."

"Ease off," Torr said, his hands raised in placation. "I'm just looking at all the options."

"All the wrong ones," Panthro snapped.

"Who's to say?" Torr asked as he adjusted the reduced length of the scythe on his back. "Kings and Queens are known to have lovers..." The glare Panthro shot him then cut Torr short.

"Listen, you," he snarled, "Cheetara and Sho are not an item. Something has gone terribly wrong here, and we've gotta find out what!"

"Well, I don't... Wait, there's a spaceboard up ahead." The two fell into silence as they neared the shallow dip in the earth. A spaceboard was nose-first in the dirt.

"Panthro," Torr began, "forget anything else I said. That human got kidnapped."

"Brilliant," Panthro snarled as the ThunderTank came to a halt. The night was still, aside from the tiny points of light which winked in and out of existence courtesy of insects Third Earthers called fireflies. Sho's scent was heavy in the air, yet neither ThunderCat could smell blood. Whoever had taken him had managed to do so without seriously injuring the human.

"Okay," Torr said from his right, "we know it's not Mutants, or Lunattaks, so who the hell got them?"

"That's what we're here to find out. I'm not picking up another scent, though. You?" Any trace of irritation with the new ThunderCat evaporated as the gravity of the situation began to settle in.

"Not a one," Torr said in reply. "Okay, we know that whoever took him down didn't give him a chance to change. That much is obvious."

"So, it was someone who knows his one real weakness. Someone with damn good intel... on..." Panthro trailed to a halt, a connection made. "That son of a bitch..."

"Who..."

All hell chose that precise moment to break loose.

At that moment, a rocket's thrusters fired and aimed the projectile at the ThunderTank. Both men leapt clear, panting heavily as the machine was hammered with an explosion. The ThunderTank itself lifted up, fire erupting from its vents as the machine which they had just left jumped straight up and then fell to earth with a deafening boom. Panthro and Torr dove for cover in the shallow depression as the heat of the flames made an attempt to bake their skins.

"That's it," Panthro growled as the ThunderTank burned, "he's a dead man!" As though in response, several angry red streaks of ion streams raked the soil just in front of them. The odor of scorched grass mingled with frying electronics from the ruined ThunderTank as the two retreated. Panthro nodded in the direction the suppressing fire had come from, Torr's eyes showing acknowledgment. Before either could make a move on their attacker there came a slight rustling noise from behind and the fibers of a thin net wrapped about them. The puff of air had been nearly drowned out by the roaring flames and the whipping cords, and weakness settled into their limbs instantly.

As he fell, Panthro cursed Safari Joe's name.

Thoughts of the nightmares came to Laheela unbidden, and she focused with all her will on HoverCat Two's controls to block it from her thoughts. Most nights she slept deeply, weary from laboring to build her people's new home. However, her nights were becoming plagued with horrid dreams that left her trembling, coated in chill sweat and fighting not to scream when she woke.

They always started as more memory than dream, always aboard the Ravager and so far away from any sort of civilization that she could scream and scream and...

Focus! she reprimanded herself.

"Still no response to comm signals," Tygra's voice said from the console-mounted speaker.

"Deploying lights," Laheela responded, engaging the twin spotlights at the fore of the machine and casting twin pools of illumination into the growing darkness.

That part of my life's done, she thought. Even so, what she had heard Lisker refer to as conditioned reflex was proving tough to break. She was known to keep her eyes downcast when in the presence of others, only realizing such when asked what she was feeling down about. Force of habit did not do this justice, and she was grateful she had not yet accidentally called anyone "Master". It had been a very near thing as well, she had almost called Lion-O that when he'd asked about the day's work in the new thundrillium mines.

Everything's on track, Master...

She did not want to imagine what the look on his face would have been. She still wondered how she had been able to hide her crushing embarrassment over the near-gaffe as well as she had.

"I've got something," she said when the small hole was bathed in her vehicle's searchlights. She angled beyond the blast point and noted the smashed grasses in a line leading away from it. "Some sort of landmine."

"Possibly a sonic device. I'm not picking up any sign of Thunderian remains." Laheela chose to be relieved over that.

"I'm thinking a non-lethal device. A stun mine of some kind." That's it, girl, look on the sunny side. You can do that now.

"Panthro, come in." Static was the reply Tygra received. "We're still in communication range..."

The suspicion that Panthro and Torr had met with trouble became fact when the plasma burst impacted HoverCat One's turbofan and damage alerts went mad all across the board. The hover began to spin, yawing severely to port with the stench of scorched electronics filling his nose. Not designed for any great altitudes, the distance Tygra tumbled to the ground posed no danger. Experience and his own innate agility allowed him to land on his feet and regain enough equilibrium to dive out from under the falling craft. He saw Laheela aim her lights into the distance in an attempt to identify his attacker. Unfortunately, twin red bursts of light lanced into the night to shatter the searchlights before a third knocked out HoverCat Two's engine.

I'm getting weak... Adrenaline was thinning in his blood far faster than normal, a sure sign of the presence of thundrainium in the immediate vicinity. Why didn't the sensors pick it up? His whip was in his hand, prepared to coil about and conceal him from view when a harsh impact slammed into his wrist and knocked it clear. More hits landed, on his other wrist and both ankles just as all four hummed and snapped together. Tygra was forced into a ball, the manacles having magnetically locked together.

He saw Laheela had managed to bring HoverCat Two down safely, one of the twin pistols in her hands and sweeping about the moonless night. The weapon's report shattered the air as she laid down fire to try and flush out whoever had ambushed them. A strangled, and somehow familiar, cry of stunned pain sounded out. She'd landed a hit, but Tygra had no idea how effective it would be.

The burst of crimson light slammed home in Laheela's chest, sprawling her backward with a strangled cry and sending the gun spinning from her grip.

"Laheela!" he shouted from reflex, knowing she wouldn't hear. The flickering light of the burning vehicle behind him was just enough for him to see she was still breathing. A stun blast, then. Whoever was responsible wanted them alive, so it stood to reason that Cheetara and Sho were still in one piece as well. Tygra forced himself to remain calm, to cease useless struggling and conserve his strength. Logic had always served him well, and would do so once again.

"I should have known we hadn't seen the last of you, Safari Joe!" Tygra called out, hoping to rattle the hunter.

"You recognize quality work," the gregarious voice bellowed as the human strode into the crazed firelight. Blood trickled down his left sleeve, which his right hand was attempting to staunch. The rifle which had felled Laheela was slung on his broad back. "The bitch is a better shot than I thought. Just a flesh wound, mind you, but damn does it hurt!" The human studied him briefly before removing his bloodied right hand to rummage in one of his breast pockets. "How did you know it was me?" he asked as he removed and then applied a bio-pack to the wound.

"I recognized your style of ambush," Tygra replied cooly.

"HAH! If it works, it works, I always say. Not even Cheetara's speed could let her outrun a skilled huntsman! As for that Guyver monster, brains over brawn, mate. Brains over brawn." Tygra relaxed just before Safari Joe's boot rammed into his midsection.

"We're not alone out here..."

"You mean good old Panthro and that Torr fella?" Despite himself, Tygra felt his heart sink at that. "By now, they're on their way to me ship. Nice and trussed, just like you." He unslung the rifle, spinning the cylnder from which the barrell protruded clockwise twice before aiming and firing four times at the prone Laheela. Each manacle snapped closed on impact with her limbs and, with a low hum, slid her wrists and ankles together to force her into the same posture Tygra held. Tygra held his tongue, not bothering with assurances that Safari Joe would never succeed. He was never one to waste words.

Also, he wasn't entirely certain that they could bring him down this time.

Okay, Sho, he thought as he looked at the four ThunderCats who had been secured to flat panels along the wall by magnetic shackles, if you're gonna come up with a brilliant plan to escape, without reducing your friend to her component molecules, now would be a really good time to do it!

"I was wondering how he kept you from changing," Tygra, the only one of the four who as still awake, said. "I'd thought it was something like this."

"How did he know, though?" Sho asked in reply. "It's like he's got all the information on how to take us out."

"Just like last time," Tygra said with a frustrated sigh.

"How'd he spy on us without us knowing?"

"It's tough to detect someone spying on you from another star system," Cheetara replied. "He probably dispatched a satellite."

"Oh, that makes..." Sho's eyes widened. "No freakin' sense!"

"What?"

"I was thinking this was some kind of stronghold. You mean this is a space ship?!"

"What's so odd about that?"

"He's human!" Ideas, half-formed notions were whirling in his head, reaching for and out of the abyss of his past. "One thing I do remember about Second Earth was that we hadn't left the planet. The farthest we ever got was the moon, and by the time Kronos took over people were starting to doubt we'd even gotten that far!"

"It's not all that strange," Tygra said. "In our former corner of the galaxy, we Thunderians weren't the only feline-decended race."

"You're saying...?"

"It's not impossible for humans to have developed on planets other than Third Earth."

Sho shook his head as an errant thought raced through his brain, unconnected and horrible. The Advents...

"Stop it..." He glanced to Laheela, who was beginning to shake her head from side to side and twitch in her bonds. "No... I'll be good, I promise..."

"Laheela!" Cheetara exclaimed in an attempt to wake the other woman.

"Owww... Please... No more, for mercy's sake no MOOOOORREEE!"

"LAHEELA!" they shouted in unison. The Tygress snapped awake, her eyes wild and terrified, and the discovery of her predicament only compounded the stark fear that nearly radiated from her.

"What's all the racket for?" Torr asked from Tygra's left.

"Where are we? What happened?" Laheela asked, her voice high-pitched from terror.

"We all got ambushed and captured, that's what," Panthro replied. "Hey, you holdin' up over there?" Laheela shut her eyes, forcing herself to take deep breaths before appearing to regain her composure. Sho, for his part, had not yet had the chance to really get to know her, all he did know came from Myrlha. He could guess what the nightmare had been.

"Who's responsible for this?" she asked. The fear was gone from her voice, but not quite from her eyes.

"Safari Joe, that rat bastard," Panthro snarled. "Just had to go and blow up my ThunderTank."

"HoverCat One's scrapped, as well," Tygra provided. "Two's just damaged."

"When did he get you?"

"We were looking for the two of you," Torr said. "Me an' Panthro were looking for Sho, Tygra and Laheela were scoutin' for you, Cheetara."

"Hey, we were pretty far apart. He couldn't have nailed all of you himself."

"Come to think on it," Panthro added, taking up Sho's line of logic, "I never actually saw him there."

"I didn't see who was shooting at us," Torr said third. "Whoever this Joe guy is, he's not working alone."

"I got him," Laheela said. "I don't know how bad, but I sure didn't kill him." The tone in her words said the rest.

"You grazed his arm," Tygra replied to her.

"Say, I got a question for you, Sho."

"Why haven't I transformed and turned this place into a junkyard, something like that?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"I can't. Not with Cheetara tied to me like this."

"You gotta have room to change?" Sho couldn't see the puzzled look on his face, and was glad for it. Torr's question irritated him enough.

"The energy field that appears when he transforms," Tygra said by way of explanation.

"Oh. Well. That sucks."

How did this guy lead all of them in a revolt, again? Sho asked himself.

"He's gotten almost half of us, Sho," Cheetara said evenly.

"Lion-O will find us," Sho replied, flexing his aching arms in their bonds.

Tygra caught the glance Cheetara shot him, and winced. She had suggested earlier that Sho summon the Guyver, apparently. A last resort, to be sure, but the human had no real idea just how ruthless a hunter Safari Joe was. The fact that Panthro and Torr were with them in this predicament attested to the skill of his unseen partner.

"Sho."

"Yeah?"

"If all else fails, bio-boost."

"I... I can't."

"Sho, I know what will happen if you change now," Tygra said, trying his hardest not to envision it. "I also know what will happen if Safari Joe gets the rest of the ThunderCats. We all do, and we all know what will happen if we lose Lion-O."

"He's already said he'll kill him," Cheetara added.

"We're more than Lion-O's advisors," Panthro put in. "We're more than his friends, more than the only family he's ever really known. We're also his last line of defense. If one of us has to lay down our life to ensure his safety, then that's what we'll do. Without hesitation."

"This isn't about my life," Sho said in a strained voice. "I'm not afraid to lay mine down, I've done it before. Kinda helps when you can pick it back up." His shoulders slumped, and Tygra did not envy the weight that had to be sitting on them. "You're asking me to sacrifice someone else, the first real friend I made on Third Earth."

"That friend," Cheetara said, her eyes pools of sadness, "is the one who first asked you to do this."

"What about Lion-O? What'll I do to him by killing you?"

"In time, he'll come to accept what had to be done. This is one of the risks that come with being named a ThunderCat. We all knew when we accepted."

"It's not like it has to be right now," Laheela said, "there's still eight more ThunderCats out there, and by now they have to know something's gone wrong."

"Lady's got a point," Torr said, looking over at him before turning his head toward Panthro then finally Cheetara. "I understand about preparing for the worst, but there's no point in putting the carriage before the hauler."

"Eight hours, Sho," Cheetara said.

"What?"

"In eight hours, if we're not rescued or if Safari Joe captures more of us, then transform."

"He really this good?" Sho asked, and Tygra saw he was defeated. He finally understood, at least well enough to do what had to be done should it come to that.

"He stalked and captured all of us in one day," Tygra confirmed. "Eight hours, then."

Sho shut his eyes against the tears that wanted to fall. Cheetara was willing to be sacrificed by her own friend to save her king. In a perverse way, it was admirable, and that only made it all worse. Sho swore, then, that Safari Joe would pay. Big-time.

In eight hours, Sho thought, I have to murder one of the best friends I've ever had.

Safari Joe's hunt continues as Lion-O realizes who is abducting the ThunderCats and develops a dangerous plan to free them. Will it succeed before Sho is forced to summon the Guyver and kill Cheetara in the process? Find out in the next episode of Eye of the Storm.