2

Orion did remember what his father had said that night, he never forgot. Many children forgot words at that
young an age, and for the most part, Orion was no different. But he had felt those words in his heart, and so
never forgot them, not for his whole life. But he did not once since throw the first punch. He only fought when
he had to, and even the other adults of the town had to admit after a while that the boy was no troublemaker.

Orion spent much of his time with his best friend, a little cub named Jaguarin. Jaguarin was Orion's
age, four, and didn't care that the little mixed cat was not of oure breed. "You really tried to fight with
five other cubs?" he asked incredulously.

"Well...I didn't mean to. But they made me so mad! They kept making fun of me and I didn't even do
anything to them."

Jaguarin looked at him sympathetically. "I know it. They don't make fun of me a lot but I see them
make fun of you all the time. It's not fair! It's not your fault. 'Sides, nothing's wrong with being a lot of
different cats. I think it's neat. I just have spots. You have spots and stripes." He paused to think. "They're
'strops!'"

Orion giggled. "Or spipes'!"

Jaguarin grinned. "Yep! You want to go play on the play yard?"

Orion nodded, an the two little cubs took off.

Not long after that incident, Thundera and Plundaar, a neighboring planet of Mutants, had gone to war.
King Claudus had avoided it for as long as he could, but the aggressive, more feral Mutants had gone too far.
They had attacked a Thunderian embassy, thus declaring unofficial war, and so they began to fight. Orion and
his family saw little of it in the smaller town they lived in, as they were miles from the main city of Felidon,
where most of the fighting took place. The larger towns were seeing some fighting, strafing, and the like, and
being a military man, Bowan of course kept up to date, and was ready to go in to fight if they needed him. They
may have, had he gotten the chance.

It was a surprise to everyone when the Mutant armies began attacking the smaller towns, and taking
prisoners. It seemed that their objective was not only to fight in the battles, to destroy their enemy, but to take
prisoners from the planet as well, as POWs, or as hostages. But when the citizens, the mates and children of the
soldiers were in trouble, it made them easier to fight, not to mention providing good cheap labor. The
Thunderians did not quite know why, and the ThunderCats and the warriors and the armies were
not ready for it.

One day, not long after his fifth birthday, Orion woke to the sounds of screaming outside his window. A
Thunderian female, nude from sleeping, was being chased by a Mutant soldier. As the horrified boy watched,
the soldier fired at her, and she dropped, unconscious. Although the boy did not understand at his age, the look
on the simian soldier's face left little doubt as to what his intentions were. Mutant soldiers wore little in the way of clothing, but even they did not go nude, and their eye was caught by the attractive bodies of the Thunderians that did.

As the cub looked around, he saw smoke a few blocks over, and hear more cries and weapons fire.

Frightened, the child ran form his room to find his parents hastily packing two large duffel bags with some
supplies and a few very personal belongings. "Pack a bag with what you want to take with you, son," his father
said. "We must evacuate. They are trying to move people out now, but...just go pack, little one., One bag is
what we are allowed. We might not get back for a long time." He did not tell his son that one out of every three that attempted takeoffs were being intercepted.

Shaking in fear, the little boy ran back to his room and brought out a pack he used for carrying
schoolbooks for his pre-school classes. He put his blanket, his favorite stuffed toy, a book, and his favorite
picture that he had on his night stand in it: a picture of all of them wrestling in the grass at a family gathering.

His uncle had taken the picture only a few months ago.

He chose a few other toys and books, all that would fit, and ran back out. His father was just coming
back for him. "Come on, little one," he said tersely, and lifting him up, running for the back door.

Outside, a jackal fighter cackled gleefully. "Reptilyle!" he said with a grin, and pointed to the house
where even now a small family of three escaped from the back door. "Think there's anyone in that one? I haven't seen anyone!"

The Reptilian laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Let's find out!" he said with a wicked grin, and
searched through his hip-pack for the matches he used when he smoked his plant-pipe. With a malicious look,
he said., "Grab something flammable from the supply shuttle!" The jackal ran for the nearby little ship and
rummaged around until he found a bottle of Plundaarian whiskey and brought it back, opening it and throwing
it on the attractive wooden house. Reptilyle set it afire.

The two young Mutant fighter did not think it would catch at first, but with a few extra shots elsewhere
with the blaster weapons they both carried, the house finally did begin to burn. Both laughing nastily, they watched the flames consume the family's home.

Orion saw it first. With wide horrified eyes, he looked back over his father's shoulder and pointed.

"Look!" the child shrieked. "Our house, they set it on fire, it's on fire!"

Both parents looked, and his mother gasped as all that belonged to them burned, but the military Bowan
only growled low in his throat and turned his son around so that he was not looking. "Shhh, don't look, son. I
know, I know." He comforted the frightened child as he ran for the town's spaceport, not slowed down at all by
his small son's weight.

Orion did not look up again. He kept his face buried in his father's shoulder,. not wanting to see the
things he heard and smelled. He smelled smoke, and weapons fire, and fear...and he smelled blood. That was
the worst smell he had ever smelled. It was not that his sensitive feline nose had not encountered it before with
cuts or scrapes, but now there was so much of it; no one should ever smell that much blood at once Ever.

The sprint through the town was a nightmare of screams, firing, and crashes. It was a cacophony of
shrieks, of laughter from the raiders, of fights and curses, and shouts of all non-family warriors to fight. Orion
would remember the horror of that day as long as he remembered his father's loving words almost a year before.

"Hey! Hey, check it out!" came the raucous, malicious cry. A hyena warrior had spotted Bowan and his
family escaping through the smoke of some old-fashioned laser cannon fire. "Halt, Thunderians!" he
commanded, running after him. He considered just stunning them to take them prisoner, but decided he wanted
to take them down with his bare hands. It was his way.

Bowan's eyes widened in concern for his son and his mate, even as the woman increased her sped. he
did so as well as Orion looked up at the voice. "Go away!" he shrieked fearfully, clutching his father's tunic as
he ran faster, the boy's backpack banging against his back the whole way. Orion did not even feel it, had in fact
forgotten his little backpack in his fear.

"Oh, a little hellfire!" the hyena exclaimed with a laugh, even as the boy's father shushed him. Five
others had joined him, another hyena, a jackal, and two Reptilians. "I said stop, you mangy feline shits! He
fired off a few blasts at their feet, making the mother gasp in both anger and alarm, but she did not stop.

Bowan didn't grace them with a response. He was scared to death of what they would do when they
caught up to him and his son and mate, and did not waste his breath on replying.

But it did no good. Even as fit as he was, Bowan had run a long way already, and soon the five mutants
had surrounded them. He stopped in his tracks, and with some difficulty, set his sobbing cub on the ground,
where the child clutched the bottom of his father's tunic. Bowan drew his sword. "Back away, Mutants!" he
said. "I've no fight with you, we are only leaving in peace!"

The hyena that had seen them snickered, drawing a stun weapon, and Bowan cursed himself for not
bringing his. He'd already had his blade sheathed, and had not thought about the blaster lying in its holster in
his bedroom. "Forget it, cat, we don't want you to leave! Surrender, mutt!"

"I have a small child, he is only five, let him be." Even Orion could see that his father was frightened
and tense, even though his voice was calm. His blade never wavered.

"Hey, I know you," the jackal said. "You were a commander in the navy!" He snarled. "Get them!"

Desperately, Bowan shoved Orion away and told him to run, and swung his sword at the hyena as he
charged. He saw his wife had turned also to fight, but little Orion had shook his head, refusing to leave his
father's side. Partly it was fear and reluctance to leave whom he felt safe with, but the young cub did not want to abandon him. Bowan felt anger, because he wanted his son to be safe, but he also felt a deep pride. And even in the grim situation, he smiled down at him.

But then he could not smile, because all five Mutants were upon them. His wife was not a warrior, and
although she fought with all the natural weapons she had, she was subdued, pinned to the ground, still fighting
and cursing. Then he heard his son scream in indignation as one of the reptiles grabbed hi from behind. He turned around and slashed at him with his sharp little claws, and the reptile growled and grabbed his hands.

"LET HIM GO!" Bowan roared, and started for the Mutant, but was hit from behind by something and
sent sprawling in the dirt. He turned around to see he had been hit by a stun blast, even as the reptile was carrying his son away.

"PAPA!" the child shrieked. "Let me go, let me go! Papa, help!" the child screamed. He was still fighting the reptile, but the small cub was no match for the strong Mutant.

"Orion!! Let him go, you Mutant filth!" Bowan stood to race after them once more, but the hyena hit
him again with the gun, waiting each time for him to get up before hitting him again. He was playing cat and
mouse, as it were. "Orion!"

But soon they tired of the game. Bowan saw his wife was tightly tied, her hands behind her, and only
one was needed to pin her now. The other three tackled him, and he fought, even as they took his blade, but
they were three, and he was one. He took a hard shot to the head and was dazed long enough for them to truss
him up as they had his wife. He shook his head, looking desperately for his son, whose terrified cries he could
still hear, and fought once more, screaming for them to let the cub go. But they paid no heed, and only dragged
the couple to a ship different than the one the cub had been taken to. They were being taken to a prison camp.

Orion would be taken to a completely different place.

Chapter 3

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