ThunderCats

Bio-Booster Armor Guyver

Eye of the Storm

Episode Fourteen

In his youth, Tygra had once studied the works of the philosopher Parro, of the Cheetah clan. Having lived nearly a century befrore Tygra's own time, his words had been recorded and passed down to enlighten future generations. The morning sun in the Royal Hall, as it was now called, filtered through the stained glass windows to leave the floor cast in a pleasing multicolor hue. Tygra kept his steps even, his face calm, as he approached the throne. The events of the previous evening still had parts of his mind reeling, yet others strangely calm and determined. Among Parro's quotes, Tygra's favorite went; "From birth to death, life is a series of steps."

That was certainly true now. Each step closer to Lion-O brought him closer to the destiny he'd accepted. What Claudis had done was both logical and horrible. That a man could do such a thing to his own son, regardless of reasons, sickened him. Granted, Claudis' words were nothing but truth. Tygra had reviewed the events of the past years before what was now known as the Mutant War, and found that Claudis' contingency plan was likely why they had not all wound up in chains with Mutant whips leaving marks on their backs. Lion-O's physical prowess, and close connection to the Eye of Thundera, had pulled their collective asses out of the fire as many times as the ThunderCats had done for Lion-O. Though, on one point his former king had been incorrect. The Mutants could have been handled. Mumm-Ra was a FAR different matter.

Or, had been until Sho had blasted him into apparent nothingness.

That had been something else to consider while he had been up half the night concocting nightmare scenarios. Sho's reawakening on Third Earth was a constant, a control for all the hypotheticals he could concoct. Only the most optimistic estimates Tygra could conceive allowed for the human to awaken in time to do much good for the ThunderCats. Oh, sure, he would have likely torn the Mutants limb from limb once they'd cornered him, but then what? For his own people, it would have been too little and too late.

Tygra hated that Claudis' plan had been borne out by circumstance along with forethought, but there was nothing to be done about it.

"Will you visit him today?" he asked once he neared the throne. Lion-O sat upon it, unusually pensive.

"Yes. I don't know if I'm really ready, but no sense in putting it off." Lion-O's voice still carried a heavy note of emotion at the thought of meeting his estranged father. "Cheetara's been an enormous help."

Another whom I can't breathe a word of this to, he thought bitterly. The only other ThunderCat who knew was Siberias, and Tygra had convinced him of the need for secrecy. The one who had been known as a great listener, unable to fill another's ear when he needed it.

"Several of our artisans have placed bids for statues..."

"For the love of crap, Tygra, is this really important?"

"It actually is," he replied, glad for the change of subjects. "Monuments to kings both current and past are part of our artistic traditions. I have several bids for a statue of yourself along with several for statues of Sho. In both human and Guyver forms."

"I don't see how it's necessary," Lion-O groused. "And I don't think Sho would take to the idea, either."

"Your Highness, it IS necessary. The artisans need to ply their trade, and this cannot be put off indefinitely."

"Oh, fine," Lion-O said with a dismissive wave. "I'll review the submissions. Anything else?"

"Actually, yes. On thinking about your offer, I've decided to accept."

"Okay, I'll get right on that..." Lion-O paused, looking at him in near astonishment before chuckling to himself. "Almost slipped that past me," he replied with a smile.

"On considering, I feel it would be for the best for me to assume the role of Lord of the ThunderCats. Until an heir is born and comes of age, of course," Tygra added hastily.

"I know, and thank you. We'll present it to Council tonight, and then I suggest you start hitting the gym. Your Annointment Trials won't be easy. Mine weren't." Which was, both knew, the entire point. Proving one's worth for the title had to be the mightiest challenge for any ThunderCat who found themselves facing the taking of that mantle. "Anything further?"

"No, my lord..."

"Dammit, Tygra..."

"Lion-O. I apologize for the slip."

"I guess my father's standing order was tough for you."

"Insubordination isn't one of my strong suits, but that order did give me some trouble," Tygra said with a corner of his mouth upturned in mirth. "I have nothing further, so by your leave?"

"That'll be all. I guess I'll spend my day going over statue ideas. Could be worse, I know, but this seems like..."

"It's not a waste of time, Lion-O. Even if it feels like one." Tygra bowed and turned to leave, grateful that his king hadn't noticed the slight nervous timbre of his voice and doubly so that Cheetara hadn't been present due to her refusal of a throne until after their official joining. She would have picked up on it at once. Tygra knew he could ill afford for her to know that his acceptance of the lordship to be mainly because his trust in Claudis was no longer as rock-solid as it had been. It was a hell of a way to show fealty to his new king by keeping his old one in check.

Oswald Arthur Lisker sat in the foyer of Gil's home, his elbows on his knees and his fingers laced under his chin as he stared into the dormant fireplace. One thought echoed in the confines of his skull, that Grune was still alive and would want a bloody vengeance for his betrayal. Such didn't worry him overmuch, Grune stood no chance against him and both knew it, even with the forces of the Clutch now under his command. Lisker looked up as the front door opened to admit what had become Watershed's de-facto war council. Maria looked ill to her stomach.

"What is it?"

"Word's gettin 'round about our guest." Gil spat the last word out in disgust.

"People have been asking me when the execution is," Maria said, her lilting voice sounded as bad as she obviously felt. Wollos were hardly fans of violence, he reminded himself.

"Killing him now wouldn't do any good," Natalie said, her original outfit back in place. She preferred it over her more casual clothes, being her last real tie to the tribe she'd been wrongly cast out of. Both of them knew her chances of being welcomed back with anything other than a dagger between her ribs was virtually non-existent.

"I agree." He aimed those two words at Gil most of all.

"Lisker, how do you know his words are true?"

"Simple. There's no way any of the Clutch could know about my former affiliation with Grune, or about the former Mutant Army. Word doesn't travel the way it used to these days. There's no way he could have been sent here to spread disinformation. Not with the way he described Grune."

"I see your point," Dendel offered. "So, why would he jump ship?"

"MICE," Lisker said before thinking. The incredulous looks he received from the rest nearly caused his face to burn.

"Lisker," Gil began, "I agree they're all vermin, but..."

"It's an acronym," he exlpained, then sighed at their slightly puzzled expressions before rising and moving to the foyer's large table. Lisker selected a mostly blank roll of paper on which he wrote MICE. "It means," he said as he wrote out the other words, "Money, Ideology, Concience, Ego."

"Each letter is a word unto itself," Natalie breathed, somewhat amazed at the concept. Lisker kept his opinion of Third Earth's education levels to himself.

"Exactly," he said with a warm smile. "Anyway, these are the main reasons why people turn traitor. So, let's review our mutt's arrival based on this. He still jugged?"

"F'r now," Benjamin said. The larger man's views on what to do with their former Clutch member were clear enough.

"Fine. First off is Money. Everyone likes to get paid. Thing is, he lost all that once he left. Mezzo might not have all that much upstairs, but he had to know he couldn't sell what he knew. Since that's out, and it works with ALL the other parts, we go to Ideology."

"Might makes right is how men like that think," Natalie opined.

"Not all men think the same way. Since Mezzo left them, we have to assume he didn't like the way things were shaping up. Ideology IS a factor, but not the critical one. Next is Conscience."

"The Clutch," Gil began darkly, "doesn't have one."

"As a group, no. As individuals, maybe. Finally, we have Ego."

"The strongest one." Maria looked up at the rest, clearly confident. "Mezzo wanted to leave because he wanted to live."

"Mebbe the 'C' in that oughtta be 'Cowardice'."

"From what he said, Ben, once you get the tattoo you're in for life. Leaving at that point isn't an option," Lisker replied. "So, we can assume he's done enough bad mojo to get that far. Besides, it's not like he defected to the good guys, but I don't think that matters. He's only afraid of us because we found him out. What he's more afraid of, I think, is if any of his former hombres catch up to him. 'Blood in, blood out,' as they used to say."

"I still say we should..."

"Execute him?" Lisker replied, cutting Gil off mid-sentence. "I guess we could, but what would that serve other than making him into a symbol? Let's not forget what separates us from The Clutch. We're not murderers."

"So, what do we do? We can't just let him go," Natalie added. "Even if he wasn't personally involved in the seige of Watershed..."

"Then we milk him for every scrap of information we can. It'll be a little slow, but Mezzo'll talk."

"You propose to offer him his freedom," Gil said bluntly, clearly disagreeing.

"Gotta have a carrot on the end of the stick. If he cooperates, and I can confirm enough of what he says to determine they aren't headed here any longer, then we grill him for info on their former employer. From what I could tell, this Gelroz is someone who needs to be brought down a peg or three."

"Right noble of ya," Benjamin drawled.

"So, that's it. We let him go."

"Once he's outside the walls of Watershed, he's no longer our problem." Lisker shot Gil a look with that line, a brief exchange of glances which only the two men knew had any signifigance. Gil nodded at once, clearly understanding his intent and approving. Lisker looked away, unconcerned that Mezzo would likely be hunted down and killed by some of the more ardent protestors in Watershed of his continued existence. Defectors were never trusted, after all.

"I stand before you," Grune began, gesturing with his cybernetic right arm, "with the promise of a new age. Before, under the command of Rinaldo..." whom he had killed within full sight of The Clutch along with a few of his more loyal soldiers, "... you were nothing more than mercenaries. Disposable tools to be used for his own financial benefit." Not as though they would be much different, but Grune would give them a better illusion. "Why put up with that? What is the point of pillage if it doesn't come with power?" Grune saw the questioning gazes and knew already that he had them. "Rinaldo might have promised to make you rich, but I can make you all KINGS!" Grins of avarice began to appear on the faces of the humans and Trollogs before him. They were sold. "Riches! Land! Servants! Hot and cold running women!" Several ragged cheers arose at that last one. "All of this can be yours! I can bestow upon you the weapons of the Ancients, the men of Second Earth!" A collective gasp and furtive glances at one another followed. "I know where to find stockpiles of weapons which even the mighty Tuska warriors would quail against!" Some eyes hardened at that, clearly having gone up against the Tuskas before. "Follow me, and I'll make each of you a king among men!" None of them, he noticed, asked what he would get out of it and that suited Grune just fine. Manipulating such short-sighted idiots was all too easy. Though Ratar-O had not provided him Mutant weapons, the cowled man standing just behind to his right had shown him ancient depots of weapons which were just as effective if more primitive.

"So, that's the story," Lisker said once Mezzo finished his recounting of Grune's speech. The two sat across from each other in the small space which had been cleared of all but two torches for light, two chairs, and a plain wooden table between them. The flickering light left enough shadow in the surrounding space to give the illusion of space within the chamber. Mezzo tried to appear relaxed and nonchalant, though the glimmer of fear in his mud-brown (shit-brown, if one asked Benjamin), eyes betrayed the anxious tension.

"Yeah," the other drawled, "figgered it was time to get out. Man starts talkin 'bout conquest, we're the ones what he walks on to get there."

"I see that," Lisker said, nodding slightly. "Now, let's talk about your future."

"Really?" The eyes were filled with suspicion.

"I don't need to tell you this, but since I'm a nice guy, I'll make sure the point's clear." Lisker leaned back, the picture of nonchalant. "You're not well liked here, Mezzo. In fact, you're looking at the only reason you haven't ridden a rope yet."

"Guess you're a real big turd in this pile," Mezzo replied. Lisker ignored the taunt.

"However you wanna put it. All I know is there are a few hundred good souls out there who think the best thing you can do for Third Earth is to leave it postehaste." Mezzo's arrogant smirk froze at that. "I'm the only one arguing to keep you alive. So far, I'm winning." Mezzo's expression cracked.

"Guess I oughtta thank you."

"Not just yet. See, I'm only keeping them away from you because you have something I need. Otherwise, I wouldn't have batted an eye once Gil strung you up from the top of his house. Now, I can keep that from happening."

"Don't know what I've got that you'd want," he replied as he patted down his empty pockets.

"Information," Lisker said. "The Clutch's numbers. Where they're heading. What they plan to do. Then, I want to know about the guy you used to work for."

"Rinaldo? Can't use much on a corpse."

"Not him, the one who bankrolled you."

"Gelroz. Why?"

"Just let me worry about that." Mezzo's inherent arrogance began to rally at that.

"What, you think you can take all me old mates on yourself?"

"The last group to come calling wasn't much of a challenge. Exposing someone's spine to open air leaves an impression on people." Mezzo, as Lisker thought he would, began to have himself a good laugh off that.

"You tellin' me that bug monster I heard of was you?!" he said once he could breathe once more.

"Is that a 'Prove it' I hear?"

"Go right ahead," he said, waving his arms in front of him. Lisker allowed the grin he'd been suppressing to finally show.

"Suppose he's convinced..." Benjamin's question was cut short by the sound of the explosion from the other side of the door which now didn't sit in its frame quite as well as before. Gil, Benjamin, Dendel, and Natalie all gaped at the spot where the wooden barrier seemed ready to fall the rest of the way off its hinges. Maria, for her part, looked a tad smug.

"At least we didn't use that room for much," Gil said at length, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So, gentlemen," Maria said with her hand out. Gil, Dendel, and Benjamin pulled five gold coins each from their pouches and placed them in her waiting palm. "Thank you!" she chirped sweetly on being paid.

"Remind me not to bet against you again, lil' darlin," Benjamin said in a good-natured grumble.

"So," Lisker said as Mezzo tried to cram as much of himself as he could into a corner, "do we understand each other?" The wall and floor each bore a brand new crater thanks to his summoning the Guyver. The portion of the table which had been in the barrier's diameter was now in splinters, the top itself slanted to the floor. The growing stain on the front of Mezzo's pants alone had been worth bio-boosting. "Good boy."

Lion-O found that this was a day he'd been waiting for nearly all his life, yet never once on the conscious level. The door to the Medical Wing daunted him, seemed to taunt him for his hesitance. Inside was his own father, alive and well after all this time. He had decided to come alone, thinking himself capable of something as seemingly simple as meeting his estranged father. Only after arriving had he realized just how difficult a proposition it was. He tried to will the butterflies in his stomach to shut the hell up, yet they refused to listen to him.

The door opened, and Pumyra stopped short on seeing him in the corridor.

"How is he?" he asked, just to say something.

"Claudis," Pumyra said, "is doing fine, and would like to see his son." As Court Physician, she could speak to Lion-O in ways that protocol said others couldn't.

"I walked right into that," he said with a shake of his head.

"Go on in, Lion-O," she replied more gently. Pumyra took her leave as Lion-O entered.

Claudis heard the approaching footsteps, a measured and proud stride, and caught the achingly familiar scent of his son. His heart wanted to turn somersaults and tear itself in half. Here was his boy, grown into a man far more quickly than nature had intended, and all due to a contingency plan.

"I was hoping you'd stop by to see your dear old dad," he said in a light voice. Claudis turned his head to the sound of Lion-O's approach. "Come." He swung his legs off the bed to make room and patted the space to his right. "Sit by me. Please."

Lion-O eased himself down next to the man who had sired him. So many questions, so much to ask him! Even what Jaga had told him seemed hollow next to seeing this man.

"I know you have questions, son," he said. "Ask them."

"Are you proud of me?" Lion-O gasped at that. Of all the questions he could have asked, and that one had been high among them, why had he blurted that one out? Claudis laughed gently, easing an arm about Lion-O's shoulders.

"Of course I am, son. Of course I am." Lion-O felt the hand grip his shoulder. "I've heard so much since I was found. You make me proud." Claudis' hand eased up to his chin. "I need to look at you." Lion-O let him run his hands over his face, having seen Lynx-O do the very same thing. "Such a strong face," he said. "But, as I recall, your mother's eyes. Ah, she must be as proud as I am, in the Astral Plane."

"Thank you." His voice was hoarse from the emotion of the moment, the kitten he'd once been wanting to hug his father. So many years without him, and all of a sudden... "I was told why you weren't around. I understand, father." Claudis dipped his head at that, breathing in deeply.

"Lion-O, I wanted to be there for you. Not one day went by that I didn't lament not being the father you needed. Your mother had passed, and Snarf did a fine job with you, but..."

"Jaga told me all of that. He still comes to me, even from the Astral Plane. I don't know what I would have done without him, or the ThunderCats."

"I know, and here you are. A man, proud and strong, king of his people. But, to me, you will always be the cub who was handed to me after your birth. One day, when you become a father, you'll understand what I mean." Lion-O kept silent, wanting just to hear his father's voice. "What you've all built is truly amazing, my son."

"We didn't do it alone..." Claudis nodded before continuing.

"The boy Sho had a large hand in it, I'm told. I would like to meet him."

"You will, father. Sho's... unlike anyone else I've met on Third Earth."

"Once I'm cleared to leave this damn bed, I'll officially cede the throne. To think that I'd get to do that. It's one of the things I'd always wanted to do."

"Father, you..."

"No. Seeing you take the throne... I've envisioned that day..." Lion-O could see the tears building, and willed his own not to fall. Claudis moved, embracing him fiercely. Lion-O returned the embrace, the warmth in his heart threatnening to burst.

"Father..." All of the emotions of the moment were bottled into that one word.

"I love you, my son... I always have... Never doubt that, Lion-O." They remained there, a son who had yearned for his father and a father who had been forced away from his son. They parted, then, not knowing what more to say. Words seemed to be inadequate to the moment.

"I love you too, father." Words he'd always wanted to say to this man.