TC is the property of WB and its affiliates. Any concepts not originating from the TC universe are the property of these creator(s) unless otherwise noted.

Characters will not completely resemble the 1985 rendition, nor the 2011 rendition. This is a reimagining of the Thundercats series as a whole and not entirely based on either series. Nor is it based on any other fan work. The creator(s) of this work reserve the right not to answer any questions or respond to any reviews. This is meant to mimic a professional work and will be conducted as such.

Episode 6

Into the Bases

"All right, are we ready to finalize the plan?" Lion-O had several canisters of antimutagen on his belt and Bill walked past him to face the group of Berbils like a tiny drill sergeant. There were twenty of them, ten males and ten females. Lion-O stood with him. "You guys will be following Bill's lead. Snarf will skirt around the base to attract Gyp and Tug-Mug's attention. When they come out, we'll fight and restrain them and gain access to the base. You need to hide until you get the order to attack. Any questions so far?"

A lady Berbil raised one hand. "What if only one comes out?"

"We need them both outside so they can't send a message to Red-Eye. Surprise is the key to our plan succeeding. If only one comes out we have to fall back for now. We'll think of something if that happens." Lion-O let Bill pace and the tiny fellow lifted his head.

"When we take the forest base, our Berbil team and the cats will use the cages and carriages to get across the road of the lake base. Thinking we are more Snarfs, Red-Eye should allow us in if he does not suspect anything. Once inside the walls, we will start to take the base and free all the captives inside, Snarf and Berbil alike. The cats will deal with Red-Eye, and we will be in charge of defending the Snarfs and our fellows while they fight."

Lion-O scanned each Berbil and asked, "What forms of offense do you guys have? I see the claws obviously."

Bill saluted and the male Berbils mirrored him. "The males can Ber-Bowl enemies and ladies use the Ber-Berang."

Tygra – who had been sitting on the ground next to Lion-O and muttering to Snarf about the layout of the forest – lifted an eyebrow. "Pardon?

Bill whistled sharply and each Berbil male, including him, curled in on himself suddenly, spikes protruding along the perfectly spherical shape. Bill unrolled and said, "We do this when we run downhill and it causes much damage when we roll. We call it Ber-Bowling. It is very fun to do. Even Red-Eye gives pause when ten Berbils with spikes are rolling at him."

The sound of the Thundertank approaching made the Berbils move out of the way, admiring the machine as it eased to a stop. Panthro had gone to fetch it and he climbed out. "Nobody out there. Are we ready?"

"Just about." Lion-O was looking at one of the female Berbils. "What can you do? You don't have spikes in the same places. What's a Ber-Berang?"

Belle smiled, nose crinkling. Then she turned away, set her feet in the ground, and flung her arm out as if slapping someone.

Her arm flew off in an angle, bent at the elbow, and it whirled through the air like a boomerang. It sliced into a tree and cut away several inches of bark, baring the pale insides to the air, and her arm returned and she shifted so the shoulder part slammed perfectly into its socket. She bowed and waved as if to show that her arm was all right.

Tygra sat there. "That was cool, I grant you."

Lion-O went to examine the cut. It was very clean, and he ran his thumb across it. "That's some pretty tough alloy."

"Yeah. Or whatever magical substance it is," Tygra said, almost convincingly. Lion-O had gathered that Tygra was not terribly inclined toward the supernatural. Lion-O didn't honestly care whether it was a curse or something else, but the fact that this metal was growing on every Berbil was a problem. One they would try to fix. He intended to question Tug-Mug and Gyp and, if they could capture him, Red-Eye. It bothered him not to have heard of this enemy before but sometimes one simply had to go in as prepared as possible.

"Snarf, you ready?"

Sitting in Kit's lap, Snarf finally rolled to his feet and briskly shook off. "Naturally. Let's do this. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get these intruders out."

"I swear, these creatures are ridiculous. There's one outside right now, rooting about for berries." Gyp stepped away from the security panel in disgust.

Tug-Mug was busy moving his legs. Each one shifted perfectly to his whim and fused into his tripod jet. Gyp wondered at how the mechanical legs communicated with Tug-Mug's brain to give him such fluid control. It was probably some kind of chip integrated with his nervous system to send stimuli to each limb. But to be able to perform such delicate surgery with such fragile systems would take a genius. Perhaps if the Luna ended up being blown apart Gyp would get the opportunity to open him up and figure it out. The Luna were very gifted with neural technology.

Gyp was, first and foremost, a scientist. One that hated obstacles. He supposed he liked Tug-Mug for the simple fact that he too disliked things that stood in his way. He was still quite willing to dissect the man if he got the chance. He got the feeling Tug-Mug knew it too.

"Any sign of the cats?" Tug-Mug asked. He returned the tripod to spider-leg form and used them to approach the screen.

"None at all. I wonder if they ran away." Gyp scanned the trees and spotted nothing, scowling. "Oh, look, it's urinating on the nearest specimens…those herbs are delicate!"

"I told you to plant them inside the walls."

"Yes but they're so much more suited to grow by the roots of fungi! Shall we go get him? That'll make a good thirteen to send off, unless you already shipped them?"

Tug-Mug sighed. "Not yet I haven't. Why don't you go out there and get him? I'm rather tired."

Gyp muttered. "You know I'm terrible at catching them."

"Because you're a germaphobe," Tug-Mug said. Gyp bristled but crossed his arms. "I suppose one's easy enough. You want me to go alone?"

"No, I need to check the soil for my specimens now. I was working on altering the plant gene structure, and that little rat's going to ruin months of work. I sent one sample with Amok and now this is all I have. You catch him, I'll examine them." Gyp was wringing his hands again. "Now where are my gloves…?"

"You realize bacteria are literally everywhere," Tug-Mug said, legs scuttling on by. Gyp hissed.

"Don't remind me. I can't be the only one in the world with this comprehension of the unclean."

Tug-Mug enjoyed the cool base interior as they passed languidly through the halls, Snarfs in cages ducking down as they passed the storage room. "There are those like you. But I think most societies have names for them…oh yes…nutcases."

"I prefer 'high-strung genius.' And who knows how to repair your machinery, hm? I think you should keep on pleasant terms with me." Gyp waited for Tug-Mug to hit the switch panel and snorted on the air that came in. The pale metal walls ended in a door that slid into the ground, and as it shifted away the door in the walls opened as well, leaving a great gap in the metal to show them the dark, skulking forest. Gyp hated its stink but crept out anyway. "There he is," he said, pointing with a feathered finger. The Snarf had frozen and was staring at them. "Come here you…nobody needs to get dirty or scuffed."

Rather than taking off immediately in a frenzy of fear, the beast gazed at them, claws flexing. Tug Mug eased his metal legs forward, ticking slowly as a spider that wasn't sure if a fly was caught properly or might break free of its web. The thing stood short and firm, eyes narrowed.

"You're scum." The two words were cold, angry. Tug-Mug took out his arm cannon.

"I should think you'd know better than to come here then."

The Snarf backed away a few steps. "I was going to say the same thing to you," it said. Tug-Mug frowned as Gyp scurried to his specimens, wincing and squawking.

Then the sound of metal colliding with trees and bouncing downhill alarmed him and Tug-Mug turned his cannon up the hill. He managed to fire twice before a great metal orb collided with him, knocking him over and scratching his arm with fierce spikes. It left three lines of purple blood.

Gyp flapped his wings frantically and started to ascend, but the lion shot out of the nearest branches – he'd been sheathed in his cloak and the shadows of the leaves – and grabbed him by his injured ankle, making him shriek and plummet back down. Tug-Mug tried to get up but more of the metal things were coming, and one hit him in the head, dizzying him.

A massive cat – a dark panther – appeared and, with deft surety, tore off one of his legs. Tug-Mug snarled and shot a chunk of ice at him but the panther dodged it and a voice called, "Tear off the other legs! Quick! I'll get the cannon!"

The tiger appeared out of nowhere like a ghost and his whip wrapped around Tug-Mug's arm cannon. He tried to punch the tiger in his smarmy face but the cat yanked it down so the metal cannon hit the ground. The tiger then stamped on it, denting it with his heel. The cat gritted his teeth from the shock of the impact.

Seven cracks later found Tug-Mug flopped on the ground like a de-clawed, de-legged crab. The panther allowed him to sit up and he lunged out only to miss and roll onto his stomach. The cat helped him sit up and put a fist on his hip. "You're defenseless, so quit acting stupid."

Tug-Mug threw Gyp a furious look. "Do something!"

Gyp was wrestling with the lion, trying to claw his stomach with his talons, and the lion was trying to get him into a headlock. Gyp's fingers scrabbled for the Mutation on his belt, but a yellow streak rammed into him, stunning him with its force. The vulture slumped and Tug-Mug cursed to high heaven; the cheetah gave him a haughty look.

"I don't suppose you believe in reaping what you sow?" she asked.

The lion lugged Gyp to his feet, arms gripped tightly. "You guys have those cuffs?"

One of the metal balls had unrolled and Tug-Mug recognized one of the bear people that Red-Eye so enjoyed hunting. He was holding two pairs of manacles, obviously built from some dark ore dug up in the forest. One set was much larger than the other, and these were placed on Tug-Mug by that infernally strong panther. The other set was placed on Gyp.

"You're useless. You had Mutation at your fingertips-!" he spat. Gyp sneered at him.

"Shut up you idiot! You're no better! You got plowed over by robot teddy bears!"

The lion cleared his throat. "All right. As I hope you've noticed, you're outnumbered and captured. If you're willing to assist us with something, you'll remain unharmed…save for arm aches from the cuffs."

Tug-Mug tested the link. It was strong. "You couldn't take me in real combat so you attack from the shadows?"

The cheetah had shrunk the staff down to the size of a toy and was tucking it away. "Says the guy that tries to choke people with freezing air. And after all you've done to the denizens of this forest, I don't think you ought to spit on our good will."

"So you're the champions of the rodents…how very touching. Are you going to go make a case for the rights of butterflies now?" Tug-Mug was considering hocking one right in her face, but the lion was watching him with a calculating, cool eye that belied his friendly speech. "What's it to you? They're animals, our superior wants them, we listen. That's the size of it."

"This superior being Red-Eye?" The panther cracked his knuckles. Gyp's expression was a revolted one. "Look, make this easy and tell us how to open your base."

The tiger had sauntered up to the wall and was examining the gate. "Looks like it wants a code." He pointed at the small, disused number pad under its pristine glass panel. The whole wall seemed white as ice – one reason Tug-Mug liked it so much – and the cat was reflected against its sheer surface in an orange and blue-cloth blob. "Don't you guys use the door from the outside?"

"Considering I can fly and he uses an ice jet, why would we?" He elbowed Gyp, who protested. "What?"

"Don't tell them anything!"

The lion glanced toward the trees. "Guys, you can come out. It's clear." Two kittens crept from the dark underbrush, wily eyes bright.

Tug-Mug watched them idly. "Are you going to torture us for information in front of children? How barbaric. Even for you hairy beasts."

Unfazed, the lion looked at the panther. "I don't suppose you could interrogate them?"

"Berbils will question. We are patient," said one of the bears. Their little mouths set into frowns. "They are bad like Red-Eye."

"That won't be necessary. I know which one will talk." The Snarf was sitting so smugly by the tiger's feet. His lips curled into a smile and he pranced to the boy kitten. "If I'm not mistaken, you have a gift from my tribe, don't you?"

The boy nodded, fishing around in his tunic pocket before withdrawing a leaf-wrapped lump. The Snarf took this and waddled on his hind legs to Gyp. "Let me ask you just once; what is the code to get into the base? If you don't tell me I'll be forced to take rather nasty measures."

Tug-Mug didn't know what to think of this. He'd expected the cats to start cutting them or start a fire to burn them. Then again, Gyp would talk much quicker than he would. Trying him first would be much smarter. But why get in the base? Sure they had a few Snarfs, but it was nothing compared to those Red-Eye had. "Do you think freeing twelve of these cretins will make the tribe happy? Bravo on your victory then," he said.

Gyp laughed, burbling in his throat most birdlike. The Snarf daintily unwrapped the object and Gyp's laughter was drowned in a dismayed squall. "Ugh! Oh, that can't be-"

"Snarf goo-no. Or feces, as a scientist would say." It carefully weighed the lump in its hand – or forepaw – and made sure to keep it nestled in the leaf. The lion and the tiger exchanged glances. "Probably crawling with bacteria, all hiding in the recesses and caveats of its surface."

Tug-Mug then saw their game and scowled. The fact that they wanted to get in was enough; he didn't want them getting in because of it. He sensed some intent about all this. "Don't you dare, Gyp. Just ignore it, it's not like it's fresh."

"No, not quite fresh. It's just been sitting around…bacterial forces crawling on it and breaking it down…" the Snarf trailed off. Gyp's eyes bulged as the little creature stepped closer. "What types of bacteria do you think might be on it, scientist?"

"How can I start to list all the hundreds of bacteria that are in that unwholesome little thing?" Gyp was starting to twitch and Tug-Mug realized he was trembling. Alarmed by this, he elbowed him. "Escherichia coli is only the beginning."

The Snarf held out the lump and Gyp openly screeched like a child. "Either tell us the code or I will crumble it and rain it over you like confetti," he said sharply. "Just imagine the grains being inhaled. Then the bacteria will be inside you, multiplying in your warm innards."

"Gyp, don't-"

"Six-eight-four-nine! Six-eight-four-nine! The rodents are in the nearest storage room! My experiments are in my quarters! Tug-Mug has an ice cube collection in the freezer he thinks I don't know about! I don't care what you want to know, just get that away from me!" Tug-Mug said nothing, fuming and noting that the lion almost seemed sympathetic.

"Put it down, Snarf." The beast obeyed and the panther hauled Tug-Mug and Gyp to the gate as the tiger punched in the code. The door hissed and slid open with relieving yet unwelcome coolness and they entered the base, prisoners in their own home.

Lion-O could not help but feel some kind of pity for Gyp. Granted being covered in dry poo would be pretty gross, but it was hardly torture to the average person. But the bird was shaking, feathers rustling with the motion, and his scabby, carrion-bird flesh seemed white. He looked ready to faint. "Sit in the middle of the room," he said evenly. The two obeyed and Lion-O entered the first storage room, peering into its darkness and feeling his fur lift in response to the cold of the base.

"Hello?" A chorus of whimpers met his ears and his pity for Gyp lessened quite a bit. He hurried inside and looked into the first cage, a tight metal contraption. The lock required a key, but Lion-O didn't feel like interrogating the two anymore. So he used the Sword of Omens, still in its shortened form, to break the metal. The creature inside perked up slightly. "Don't be afraid, any of you. We're with the Berbils and Snarfs; we've come to shut this base down and rescue you."

Cheetara entered after him and looked into some of the larger cages. There were about three Snarfs in each of these. "Don't worry, we'll have you out soon. Snar-Fer, is that you?"

One of the small ones trilled and Cheetara opened the blades on her staff and pried the thin locks open. Snar-Fer jumped into her arms immediately, as did two of the other babies. "Aw, you guys…hang on and let me get the others out!" Her tail brushed Lion-O's leg as she moved and he glanced at her; the babies were riding on her shoulders and Snar-Fer on her head. He stifled a smile and kept working on his half of the room.

Several Berbils looked inside and clapped. "Hello little Snarfs. We are taking the base at last! It is good to see you." Some of the older Snarfs went to greet them, and the babies frolicked in Cheetara's blond hair.

After all of two minutes every Snarf was freed and prancing for it. The Berbils were in a ring around Tug-Mug and Gyp, and Panthro was watching as well, looming like a stone. Tygra was off looking around, and Lion-O returned to the others with a pleased feeling. "Phase one went very well. Nice job, Tygra."

"It's a burden being so gifted, but it's one I carry." He'd come back with an armful of paper. He gave this to Lion-O. "Gyp said his work was in his room, right? Well, I found notes about Mutation. Take a look."

Skimming the pages, Lion-O tucked a few into his cloak and shredded the rest with his claws. Gyp croaked and he gave the bird a cold look. "You wanted to experiment on the Snarfs?"

"Well…Red-Eye already has. I figured a few more wouldn't matter." Lion-O threw the paper in his face and sighed.

"Let's see about locking these guys up for now. Panthro, did you frisk Gyp for Mutation?"

"Yep. He's clean."

"Okay then. Gyp, Tug-Mug, either of you want to tell me about what Red-Eye's done to the Berbils and Snarfs?" Lion-O leaned on the nearest wall, considering the storage room as a potential cell. Tug-Mug sniffed heartily.

"I hardly know. Red-Eye does what he pleases. He likes chasing those bears for some reason. You'd have to ask him what he did."

Cheetara was busy cuddling the babies and the kittens were poking around down the hall. "I'm sure Red-Eye isn't your main superior though. Care to talk about the head honcho?" she said.

The Luna sneered and said nothing. Lion-O tilted his head. "You're here to work on and synthesize Mutation. And you're using the plants and creatures here to do it. Why would Luna be in a warmer place like this unless you're particularly selected for your abilities? And you're sending this stuff to Tropo."

Tug-Mug blanched. "How did you know that?"

Lion-O shrugged. "Because that's where everything's going. Along with Lune." He didn't want to mention that the Snarfs had said this. "Why settle here in particular?"

Gyp shifted. "It's not really a secret. Certain ingredients grow in certain places better than others. The creatures here were easy to overpower. And it was hidden from Thundera all while resting inside its borders."

Lion-O rested his chin in his hand. "But the superior is secret?"

Gyp shuddered when Snarf yawned and hiked a leg up, as if he were considering peeing in the area. "Well…"

"Oh for the love of…look, we're working for my Ma. Happy?" Tug-Mug shifted against his restraints and Tygra snorted.

"Just what every drug lord dreams of. Do you live in her basement too?"

"She's the head to all of it. And I don't really mind telling you because she'll blow every last one of you outta the galaxy if you mess with her." Lion-O chewed this over as Tug-Mug made a face at him.

"A Luna…so she's in Lune?"

"Of course. She's an important lady."

Panthro grunted. "Look, as interesting as I'm sure your mother is, can we get back to the matter at hand? We need to lock these guys up and move on to phase two of the plan before Red-Eye tries calling them." The Berbils murmured and nodded. Lion-O stood up straight.

"There are several cages in the storage room. We'll use them." He looked at Gyp. "Where are your carriages that ferry the captured Snarfs?"

"Other side of the base, room twenty-seven."

It took a little while to haul the cages and captives down to the other end of the base, but at last they reached the place. Tygra went in and started fiddling with the carriages, little more than mechanical crates on fat, low wheels. "They're on auto-direction. No need for drivers." There were more empty cages in here and they took care to subtly break each lock before setting them on the carriages.

Cheetara paused as they put the last of them up. "What about these guys? What if they have a messenger board to communicate with Red-Eye wherever we lock them?"

"Oh, I'm sure they will. Don't worry, I've got it covered." Tygra and Lion-O inspected the nearest room – another storage one it seemed and Tygra found the message board. He took great pleasure in detaching it from the wall and hunting down any possible weakness in the room. "All right, bring them in." Panthro did so and they sat on the floor looking sullen. "Boys, we'll be back. I hope you enjoy your accommodations as much as your captives enjoyed theirs." Tygra then slammed the door with gusto and figured out how to lock it with a code.

Panthro eyed the door. "We should probably just be rid of them."

Lion-O hesitated. "We might be able to get more information out of them later. And besides, I think it would be better if they faced a trial rather than…"

He trailed off and shook himself. "Look, let's just get ready. Tygra, can you set that thing to start?"

"Absolutely." Tygra returned to the carriage and, after some fiddling, the machine began to hum. He peered at the front, a reflective panel displaying a countdown. "We've got one minute to get in."

Lion-O helped the Berbils into the cages first and then climbed into one himself, experimentally opening and shutting the door. They were hidden in the shadows on the carriages – there were metal flats over the cages to keep them from jostling around – and the door opened easily. "Kat, Kit? I want you to stay behind."

"What?" Kat asked, and Lion-O heard the beginning of a whine.

"You promised to obey orders. And I want someone to look after these Snarfs. They're frightened; take them back to their people. You guys can be our backup in case something goes wrong." At this both kittens seemed appeased and the only sound after this was the clinking of cage doors shutting. Panthro had to cram himself into the largest one.

Kit reached into her pocket and withdrew the cloudy salt crystal and handed this to Cheetara. "Just in case he's really tough," she said somberly. Cheetara ruffled her hair and tucked the rock into her breech pocket.

"Everybody ready?" Lion-O asked.

"Ready!" Snarf was pacing in his cage excitedly. "Just wait, Sarfi-I mean, fellow Snarfs. We'll be there soon."

"And Berbils," Bill added. Lion-O wanted to look at Snarf but at that moment the carriage lurched and the room seemed to open, a seam in the wall sliding to the left to let the carriage roll out. Lion-O spotted the opening of the gate and the walls as the machine carried them off. The kittens waved at them along with the remaining Snarfs, turning away when the distance grew greater.

"What were you going to say Snarf?" Cheetara asked. "What's a Sarfi?"

"Nothing! No one! I just tripped over my words," Snarf said loudly. Tygra looked at Lion-O, who raised his eyebrows in response. The trees went by in bumpy swaths and Lion-O spotted a few Snarfs watching them. The tribe had been waiting. The chief, even with his injuries, sat by the path. Lion-O shot him a thumbs-up and he nodded. Snarf averted his eyes and tucked himself further into his cage, out of Lion-O's range of sight.

It was silent for a while, even after the Snarfs faded into the distance. Lion-O leaned against the back of the cage, bars cold against his shoulders.

"…You've been kind to help these people and my tribe," Snarf said at last. "I suppose I owe you some honesty about a few things. But it's rather personal."

Cheetara shifted in her cage. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"But I should." Snarf paused, very quiet for a second. "All I've said is true; I want to protect my tribe and drive the intruders out. But…um…there's a Snarf in particular that I'm most intent on finding. She was taken."

"'She?'" Tygra asked, brows arching.

Snarf grumbled. "Yes. Her name is Sarfina."

Snarf didn't say anything more and Cheetara clapped and rested her hands under her chin as if delighting in a novel. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No! But she is the most beautiful and kind of Snarfs, and her eyes shine like the brightest glass. I…I've admired her for a long while." Cheetara made a noise of approval, something like a giggle, and Snarf growled. "Don't get too many romantic notions, Cheetara. She's the chief's daughter. I am a plain, ignoble Snarf that doesn't fit in. I'm only a friend to her."

Lion-O had been grinning until this point. His smile faded against the flat, cold tone. "You don't fit in?"

"Why do you think I wasn't with the tribe when they first met you? My family has a history of being eccentric and we're somewhat of an embarrassment. My great-grandfather left the forest you see, decades ago, and when he came back he had funny ideas and was very learned about other cultures and creatures. He also came back knowing how to fight. This made the tribe think him strange. Which, arguably, he was. His strangeness has passed to me to hear them talk. We are considered very low-ranking in the tribe. Our family is what is called a tail-group, a scout. It is the lowest rank, and we have been this way for as long as I can remember."

"It's a caste system?" Panthro asked, almost alarmed.

"No, no. Not really. There is only the main group of Snarfs, the heads, and the tails. Heads are that way because they are brave and the leaders, and tails…well, you have to have done something rather bad to be labeled that. Or related to someone who did, like an outcast. Great-Grandfather never did say what he did to be banished for a time. We are treated the same as anyone else by most Snarfs, but there is no getting rid of the stigma. When people look at us, they can't help but remember it."

"So they don't even like you? Then why help them so much?" Tygra asked, back against one side of his cage.

"Because they are my people. They may not understand but they have always been as kind and accepting as they can be. Only historians paint a group as black or white. But to attempt to woo an important and intelligent lady…they'd tell tales for generations of the fool Snarf."

"Sounds like you've observed a lot," Cheetara said. "You know history?" Snarf shifted in the cage again.

"My grandfather taught me the value of being still and listening. Much can be learned by observing rather than running away. I used to show the little Snarfs how to scout in the forest. Sometimes Sarfina came to watch and learn. She always seemed so ready to listen." He sighed. "She tried to use the fighting techniques the chief had passed to his descendants to stop Tug-Mug and Gyp. She was one of the first taken, trying to protect the little Snarfs. When I saw them take her, I knew I had to do something. Even if it costs me my life, I will save Sarfina."

Lion-O listened to this and heard Panthro say, "Even though her pop will probably never let you court her? Is being a noble Snarf a big deal?"

"Yes. The future of the chiefhood is incredibly important. Only a Snarf that joins the nobility, for courage or brilliance or usefulness, could have a chance. And her life, freedom, and happiness are much more important than mine. The safety of the whole tribe is much more important than any one Snarf. And if I am to die saving her, that would not be such a bad thing."

Tygra protested with a quiet yowl. "How pessimistic. If you save all the Snarfs you'll be a hero. Surely Os-Wald-O would let you court his daughter if you're the biggest hero in all of…is Snarfdom a word? If she's interested of course."

Snarf shifted. "…The thought has crossed my mind. If I were such a hero I might become a part of the highest nobility of Snarfs."

"Ah-ha. The truth." Tygra seemed amused. Snarf was silent, shamefully so. "What? There's nothing wrong with having several reasons for wanting to help your people. And it's not wrong for you to like this chick. If you care about her this much then the least the chief can do is give you a chance."

"I agree," Lion-O said at last. "I think you need to tell her you like her. Maybe she won't care that you're a misfit. She might just like you back."

"Definitely," Cheetara said. "This is so sweet…Snarf, don't you worry. We'll get them all out. You'll see. It's just like the old fairy tales."

Panthro grunted. "Can we talk about relationship problems after this mission?"

It took another half hour before the lapping of water against the lake's banks reached their ears. Lion-O spotted blue water and tried not to shudder when the rattle of the wheels over a metal bridge started. He didn't dare lean over to look into the depths once the bank fell away. "Bill, you can see better in your spot. What's it look like?"

"The wheels do not set off the lasers like a person would, just as we hoped. The base is big and dark-colored, and we go in the front gate. There seem to be no guards within. Hope that Red-Eye does not personally see to each shipment." Bill sounded quiet, nervous, excited. His long claws were rapping on the metal.

Lion-O managed to see the base before they went in by peeking out just a little. It was a large, tall, thick structure like a massive metal cube. It reminded him of the prison in Dera's Run, only made of pure metal and it had no windows. Its door was open and it wasn't exactly like being swallowed as their craft rolled inside; it was more like being thrown down a long, frigid laundry chute, not knowing if there was going to be a pile of clothing to break his fall or not. The sound of water lapping the flat, polished pathway made him hold gently onto the bars and twitch his tail.

He could see his breath immediately after they rolled in and the gates shut. The cart did not stop, continuing down the hall instead, and Lion-O took the opportunity to examine the home of this superior Luna.

It was dim. He had to squint and wait for his pupils to widen, and even then many things were cast into the shadows of the hall. It was bare of ornaments, plain metal boxing them on every side. "It's so dark," he whispered.

"Red-Eye's eyes are very strong. He doesn't need much light," Bill said. Panthro shushed them and Lion-O's stomach flipped. An enemy that could see in the dark? Not good.

He kept his ears perked and glanced around as the hallway shifted; the carriage had turned. "Its destination is a predetermined spot. There must be something guiding it with signals," Tygra hissed. "Good news is it's probably automatic."

Lion-O would have said something but suddenly they rolled through a door and it stopped, lurching under them and knocking them into the sides of the cages. The silence was almost painful after the rattle of the wheels. "That seems like it was too easy," he said.

Cheetara was the first to creep out, climbing down with a quick, graceful move. She sat on the floor in a crouch, scanning the room. "…No one in here. Let's go."

Helping ten Berbils and Panthro out of the cages was not altogether as silent as Lion-O would have liked, but it was quickly done and Snarf hopped to his shoulder, sniffing. "I think I will be able to find them by smell. This room is just a place for the carriages to be unloaded. By who is the question-"

The sudden banging of a door flying open made the group scatter, diving away from the noise. Lion-O's heart raced, throbbing in his throat, and he held absolutely still. Had he seen them? Could they take him down?

A light clink echoed through the room and a small ray flicked on. It barely missed Tygra's side, and Lion-O heard him slide hastily away. It seemed to shine out of the two little bulbs and lit up the cages. Lion-O's claws tightened on his knees; they were all empty. Snarf clutched at his ponytail hard enough to make his eyes water.

But whatever was shining the light didn't exclaim or pause. It just marched mechanically into the room and picked up a cage in stout, round arms and turned around, carrying the cage out the door. Lion-O turned to his right, Cheetara's stunned eyes meeting his. "Didn't they notice?" she uttered in a breath.

More lights came on, and again a clinking noise sounded as another thing came to pick up a cage. Lion-O saw this happen several times and finally stood up and waved a hand right in the way of the light. Nothing happened, save for the thing turning its head to look at him for all of one second. It only seemed to register that there was an obstruction in its path and kept going.

Before this one could make it out, Cheetara shut the door firmly in its face with the press of a glass button she'd found by rubbing beside the doorframe. It did not sound an alarm or panic, just stood completely still. "Error. Entering standby mode," it said softly.

Snarf poked the being in the leg and Tygra cursed, fumbling around. "There have to be some lights around here somewhere. Even if it's just a little one."

Lion-O took out the Sword of Omens. "I've got an idea. Sometimes when it wakes up it glows. Maybe…"

The jewel in the hilt began emitting a warm red light. The Berbils oohed at this, crowding around him to watch. Everyone relaxed a little but Bill made a sound of despair. "Look!"

The thing – the person – holding the cage was a Berbil. It was engulfed completely in metal, from his head to his feet. The soft snout and muzzle had hardened into the strange alloy, and his eyes were simply glass bulbs. Lion-O felt one Berbil shrink against his side and he held their shoulder, feeling a little sick. "What…what happened?"

Tygra knelt and gently took the creature's cage. Its arms relaxed and it stood stoutly, motionless. Prodding it, Tygra said, "It looks like, whatever Red-Eye did to you guys happened a lot quicker to these guys. Was he one of the ones that were taken a while back?"

Bill nodded, listless. "You see his foot? He's missing a toe. He was called Robearto. Because he was born without it." One little pinkie toe was shorter than the others and Tygra noticed the stump did not seem to affect the flat, metal feet. "He was one of our first ones taken. He was always very kind, and he loved to tend the orchards."

Cheetara took Bill's hand. "I'm so sorry."

Lion-O bit his lip. "Maybe his mind is still in there. Maybe he just can't talk."

Panthro nudged the robot Berbil so he moved to the wall and sat him down like a child sets its doll down in a chair. "We need to take down this Red-Eye fella. If anyone will know exactly what he's done, it'll be him. He might have a way to reverse this."

The Berbil sat without a sound, and Bill took his paw from Cheetara, balling his claws into tiny fists. "Yes. Red-Eye has hurt us and the Snarfs enough. Today we will destroy him." He turned to Snarf, growling. "Can you find the others?"

Snarf was already sniffing at the door. Lion-O opened it for him and herded everyone out before the robot could get up and leave. "I'm getting…getting…fur. Snarf fur. Wherever the Snarfs are, the Ro-Bear Berbils can't be too far. Nor can Red-Eye."

"Then lead the way, Snarf. Everybody stick together and keep an eye out for anything weird." Lion-O held out the Sword to light the way and everyone followed him into the red light, hot on the heels of a searching Snarf.

Snarf had never known love before he knew Sarfina. Certainly he'd loved his family, his mother especially. In spite of her terrible choice in naming him. But romantic love or even the love of admiration had not crossed his busy, clever mind growing up. Every other Snarf began mooning after someone and often became mates and settled down.

Great-Grandfather dismissed this. "You are made for venturing. And you're still far too young to worry about finding a mate. You've a better head on your shoulders than those young ones do. Come, let me tell you a tale of mystery from the north."

He'd loved those stories. Nothing swayed his passion for seeing the world outside the forest himself someday. Even when Great-Grandfather finally died and his mother urged him to look for a mate and a respectable position as a scout in the Snarf community to raise himself from their shameful position, he only scouted and taught the young ones because he reasoned that if he helped the tribe the chief might one day permit him to leave.

Without the whole banishment thing. Which had been why Great-Grandfather had left in the first place. Snarf never found out what he'd done to warrant being banished for thirty years and being labeled a tail-level in a very nearly casteless society, but he got the feeling it had something to do with a Snarf being shaved, a Berbil's chimney, a forest fire being set, and one too many pieces of Candyfruit.

Nobody ever said. And he assumed that the Snarf tribe was just not meant for him. He taught the young scouts what he knew to pass on the useful knowledge he had so he could one day leave and the tribe wouldn't be impoverished by losing him. It probably wouldn't have been either way.

And then Sarfina came along, and his insides turned into wiggly, electric, terrified mush. His tail curled into knots, the smell of her fur made his whiskers tingle. It had started out a crush on a very beautiful Snarf lady. This was a normal thing, and Snarf found it charming enough that he didn't try to escape it. Nothing would come of it, right?

But the impossible had happened. She had started talking to him when she led the scouts back home and helped him look after the youngest trainees. And he had glimpsed a beauty of heart that had made his knees knock even harder. She was witty and sweet, and her kind way had stolen his heart. His satire and occasional introspection were levied and examined by her curious way. Rather than ignoring his questions she sought to answer them, or she was willing to talk about the strange things he thought. Willing to hear the crazy stories with an excited little dimple in her cheek.

He was no longer crushing; he'd fallen into a slippery chasm, something very jarring to his logical nature, into the deep, dangerous well of love.

He'd tried to stop Tug-Mug from taking her. She'd been clawing the flabby face and been grabbed and carried away like a damsel in the arms of a rogue. Only it wasn't like a foolish fairy tale because the rogue wasn't dashing, he was evil, and he wouldn't woo her, he'd destroy her. Snarf had seen red, all red, all hate at that moment. But he'd only choked on the cold and seen the Luna shrink away into the sky, and listened to the agonized cries of the Snarf tribe wailing their loss.

That was when the watching started. And it all culminated at this point.

His nose was sensitive enough to distinguish old Snarf smell and new Snarf smell. Through the winding corridors they trailed, always comforted by the red glow. Snarf had, of course, heard of the Sword of Omens and the legacy it blazed through history. But that a young lion carried it concerned him. Didn't it belong to the king of Thundera?

Perhaps it was divine intervention. Someone who could wield the Sword of Omens could defeat Red-Eye certainly. Had the Creator sent him a miracle with which to save his people? Snarf's toes curled in nervousness and he snuffled against the ground, catching a new whiff. "We're close."

"Good. We've been walking for twenty minutes. I think this base extends underground because the ground is slanting a little," Tygra hissed. "We might be under the lake by now. It sounds like water." Time had no meaning for Snarf, but he was surprised to note that his feet did feel as if they'd been prowling a while. Lion-O twitched and Snarf spared him a look; he was strangely uneasy. "Can you show us the way?"

Snarf darted down the hall, claws pattering, and he heard the delicate clicks of claws after him. Large metal doors like those of a warehouse stood to either side, and they reflected the red light like melted mirrors. "This one! There are Snarfs here!" he whispered, pawing at one, skidding on his hind legs to stop. Lion-O nudged him slightly and began looking for a handle.

Finding a metal lever, Lion-O pulled it and the door slid into the wall. They waited, holding their breath, until Snarf crept through the door and Lion-O extended his arm with the Sword lighting the way.

"Is anyone there?" Snarf called softly. No one replied. He waved the cats through, aware of the Berbils waiting wisely outside as sentries. The floor was cold under his toes and it seemed to stretch on for a ways to a railing. Reaching this, Snarf looked down and realized this was a spot for viewing and overseeing workers.

For down below there were hundreds of Snarfs, all of them sitting by conveyor belts with bottles of green liquid before them. Lights swung dimly from the ceiling, and it was a relief to be able to see again. Lion-O's jaw dropped and Snarf's heart felt faint; alive. All of these were alive.

With their tiny, clever hands, about half of the room seemed to be depositing glass beakers of powder – perhaps the plants and minerals had been dried and ground – into the bottles and the other half took the bottles and mixed them fiercely until the powder completely dissolved. Then they corked each bottle and placed it on what looked like a steel trolley being pulled by four Snarfs. They were harnessed to it and kept making trips out of the room, possibly to a cooler if their shivering was not from fear.

The clink and clang of machinery shook Snarf from his awe and he realized all of them looked exhausted. Tails slumped, eyelids drooped, and sometimes a Snarf would stumble and catch itself. Lion-O was watching a corner of the room. "Look at the little ones," he said fiercely. Several kits were in some kind of pen, each one running on one massive wheel that seemed to be shaped like the grindstone of a mill. They were grinding the dried plants, Snarf realized. When one stumbled out, exhausted, another hopped in to take its place.

"Sarfina!" Snarf's voice was hushed and the others looked down, following his pointing. There were a few Snarfs with what looked like saddles strapped to their backs walking among the ranks, and this one had two buckets of water on her, one for each flank. She would wait for the workers to pause and drink before moving on, and when she ran out she returned to a pump in the corner of the room and refilled them. She looked haggard, slumping, and Snarf hissed. "My people will not be Red-Eye's slaves any longer!"

"We will destroy this enemy together," Bill murmured, and Snarf saw that there were Berbils running the greater machines on the same level as their overlook. If the robotic Berbils noticed them they didn't show it. They stared straight ahead, fingers flickering over circuit boards and control panels. Snarf shot Bill a savage look of approval. "What do we do now?"

"Well, I wish we knew where Red-Eye was. I don't want any innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire when we take him down," Lion-O said. "I think we need to round up the Snarfs first. The Berbils are running things, and we don't want Red-Eye coming in because he hears the machinery stopping. Tygra, scout out the room from the floor. Panthro, you're defense. If he shows up, protect the Snarfs and Berbils. Cheetara, you're fast, so you can carry Snarfs a few at a time to the exit once we get a door open. Berbils, you help Panthro with defense." Lion-O put out an arm and Snarf climbed onto it. "Let's get down there."

But the clatter of a door opening derailed this rather nice plan; every Snarf down below froze, hair rising. Everyone got down again and Lion-O muttered something in irritation, dimming the light of the Sword of Omens. The lights of the room dimmed too, controlled by a Berbil across the overlook.

There was just enough light to make out the figure walking into the room. He was tall and thin, skin pale and scabby. Barbaric breeches – torn at the edges and darkly colored – concealed his legs, and he wore nothing on his torso save for a pendant in the shape of a white crescent moon. Snarf squinted; two rows of short, curved gray horns roved over the bald head and beneath thick brows were the two great, moist red eyes that gave the Luna his name. They were large and round, and his face was distorted around them as if making room for them was nearly impossible.

He made no sound at all except for the rattling noise of air entering his serpentine nostrils, scanning the room. No Snarf dared to breathe. Bare, quiet feet padded on the floor as Red-Eye examined the conveyor belts, inspecting the Mutation.

One Snarf, barely able to sit up, fell over in exhaustion, nudging a bottle and tipping it. The shattering of glass and the wet slop of spilled liquid was so loud it echoed in that silent room. Even one of the robotic Berbils seemed to flinch. Cheetara covered her mouth with one hand.

Red-Eye looked at the dripping bottle and the now very awake, very frightened Snarf. It looked ready to be sick. "I…I'm sor-"

One massive hand scooped up the Snarf and it started to scream. The noise made their ears tear, and Snarf gritted his teeth. What would Red-Eye do? Torture him? Throw him? "No, no!"

Red-Eye's mouth opened suddenly, wide and stretchy. His nostrils opened and seemed to sniff, and he tilted his head back, holding the Snarf by the scruff of his neck. That mouth seemed to stretch big enough to fit a Snarf inside it and Red-Eye began to lower the creature into it.

He was going to swallow him.

Snarf wasn't sure what happened after that. It seemed that Lion-O hurled himself over the railing and Cheetara followed, and then Tygra as well. Tygra used his whip to grab the Snarf around the belly and whisked him out of Red-Eye's grasp, and Lion-O delved in and struck the figure with the flat of his blade. And Cheetara moved so quick that she might have punched him six times before catching the Snarf wrapped in the end of the whip, keeping him from hitting the floor.

Panthro took the stairs. He carefully pulled out various wiring from the control panels, deactivating each one with a leisurely tug. The Berbils followed him, gathering their fellows with tugs and murmurs.

Red-Eye fell back without a word, not even blinking. The Snarfs erupted in sounds of shock and darted away from his form as he fell with a crash into another conveyor belt. Lion-O held the Sword of Omens and pointed it at Red-Eye's throat. "Red-Eye, your operation here is finished. You'll never harm another Snarf or Berbil. Surrender and we'll see that you get a fair trial."

The Snarf in Cheetara's arms wrapped his forelegs around her neck, shivering, and the other Snarfs were whispering and bunching together. Snarf's tail lashed as Bill said, "Put out his eyes, quickly!"

Lion-O hesitated. "Wait, what-?"

Too late. Red-Eye lifted his head and Snarf could see the delicate, pale veins in his eyeballs bulge like muscles. The air smelled like heat and he instinctively covered his head. "Get down!"

Lion-O ducked just in time; red hot light screamed out in a beam where he'd just been and he rolled backward to put distance between himself and the Luna. Red-Eye slowly got up, nose still whistling. "What the heck was that!?" Lion-O yelled, looking behind him. The metal in the wall where the beam had struck was sizzling like lava, broken, burning edges a dull red around a hole.

Bill came rolling down the stairs, spikes flared, and Red-Eye turned and his eyes bulged again. Snarf saw it better this time; light flared like flame out of the centers, like a concentrated laser, and Bill would have been incinerated if he'd been flesh alone.

The metal sizzled but Bill still made contact, jabbing against Red-Eye's side. The Luna grunted and held his hip, blood trickling down from the scratches. Bill unrolled and ducked into a crouch, claws bared. "Red-Eye has magic that makes hot light come from his eyes."

"You guys didn't think that was important to know?" Tygra yelled, grabbing two Snarfs as Red-Eye looked at him. He jumped to the side, barely avoiding being smoked. "Snarf, why didn't you say something?"

Bill blinked as he rolled aside, cartwheeling. "We didn't know you didn't know." Snarf had had his suspicions about Red-Eye's eye abilities, but he hadn't realized what "strong eyes" had meant until now. He shook his head helplessly, cursing his ignorance.

Now that Red-Eye was up and, if his flared nostrils meant anything, angry, he was firing the hot rays every second or so. Between the fleeing Snarfs and the glass shattered across the floor, the cats were limited in their motion and Snarf raced in, herding his people out of the way. "Move, move! They're trying to fight!"

Cheetara alone was unfazed by this ability because she could move much faster than Red-Eye could move his head and bulge his eyes. However her fellows could not move so quickly and this sent them ducking and rolling to avoid the beams of light. Cheetara sprinted in for a blow and back out again, but every time she wondered if the beam would hit someone. The Snarfs were trying to avoid them but there was only so much room.

Then Bill and his Berbils attacked the door Red-Eye had entered through. The clatter was deafening as they struck it and after a few seconds Cheetara looked up to see that they'd torn it open. "Go Snarfs, go!" she called. They didn't need to be told twice, and the hundreds of Snarfs crammed through the door in a matter of seconds. "All right," she muttered, "now that there's room…"

Red-Eye had blasted at Lion-O twice when Cheetara plowed in, staff a whirl of light. Every time it connected she imagined one more little Snarf and Berbil that he'd hurt and – as she now realized with a sick twist in her stomach – probably eaten. He kept missing her as she sprinted, too quick to hit, and his grunts of angry pain pleased her in a vicious way. That's what you get, monster, she thought.

Even Cheetara needed a reprieve. She retreated back several feet, aware that Lion-O had been clipping the Luna in the back with the Sword of Omens, never quite able to get close enough for a deep slice in spite of his precise, perfect cuts. Red-Eye always seemed to turn just in time to nearly sear him, the smell of burnt hair driving her fists and feet into attacks. "Tygra," she yelled, "do your thing!"

He nodded and flicked his wrist, whip tangling around him and he disappeared. He was very good at attacking silently, and Cheetara bared her teeth; one good blow to the head should knock Red-Eye out.

But Red-Eye looked up and bulged his eyes at seemingly nothing. The awful smell of burning hair intensified and Tygra reappeared, screaming and holding his shoulder. "Tygra!" Lion-O called. He gritted his teeth and swung the Sword of Omens.

It flared with light and lit up the room in a cold red wave. Red-Eye screamed for the first time, covering his fat eyes with his hands and kicking out. Cheetara sprinted to Tygra, still clutching his shoulder, and Panthro helped him up. The panther had not attacked for some reason, but Cheetara saw many wires in his hands; he'd been busy picking the machines apart. Panthro strode forward, lugging Tygra along. "Come on, fall back!" She obeyed, staring at the place where Tygra's arm was smoking and wanting to turn around and pierce both eyes of the Luna.

Lion-O was right behind her and, as if sensing her feelings, took her arm. "We'll be back. We need to form a plan," he whispered urgently. Red-Eye was bellowing, and a beam of heat rushed over them every few seconds. He'd recover soon, and even half-blind he was still lethal.

Cheetara and Lion-O crossed through the door and took off after Panthro and Cheetara heard Snarf slapping his palm against a door control panel. Pausing, she rushed back and waited for the door to shut. Then she lengthened her staff, whirled it in her hands to build up a charge, and jabbed the control panel with the blades. It shorted out, crackling and spitting sparks. "That'll slow him down," she spat, grabbing Snarf under her arm. Then she followed the others, anger increasing with every footstep.

When Panthro finally stopped it was easy to see why; the hundreds of Snarfs were bundled together in a small corridor, unable to find the exit. He set Tygra down and immediately pulled away the tiger's sleeve. "…It's not bad. He missed everything but the skin."

Cheetara knelt, staring at the weal on Tygra's arm, furious scarlet. That wasn't bad? She hated to think of what wounds the panther would give pause for. Lion-O bit his lip looking at it and Cheetara couldn't help but think of how much he hadn't wanted them to come along. Now she knew why.

The red wound sobered her as nothing else had. Tygra had been hurt, and he could have been killed. Somehow this made her feel cold and rational, and she glanced over her shoulder. "He could see through Tygra's invisibility."

"Red-Eye sees all things." One of the Snarfs spoke, eyes hollow. "You were brave and stupid to try to save us. But now he'll devour us all. That might be better than wasting away in the dark."

Snarf hissed. "No! Fernald, don't you know me?" The Snarf – Fernald apparently – looked at him in wonder. "I brought them, and they have the help of the Berbil tribe! Our tribe asked for their help and I joined them so we could leave this place! One lost battle does not lose a war."

"Osbert? What are you doing here? This is no place for a scout."

Snarf cringed and Tygra – eyes glazed with pain as Panthro dealt with his wound, tending it with his own water canteen and strips of bandage Lion-O had on his person – laughed faintly. "Osbert huh? Yeah, I can see why you'd hate that." He panted once when the bandages were tied and Cheetara clutched at her staff. She had told him to turn invisible, assuming it would work. She was partly responsible.

Not to mention dragging him along on this venture in the first place. Cheetara realized Lion-O was looking everyone over, including her, for burn marks. He had his own share of singed places, small burns. "Has he eaten many Snarfs?"

"Ten. Anyone who makes a mistake is consumed." Lion-O's face paled and Cheetara saw fear in every glittering eye. "We work all day and night making the bottled liquid. We smell black magic on him like blood."

Cheetara gathered some of the little ones into her lap, feeling their skin twitch. They were petrified, pale, and thin lumps of hair sloughed off in her hands. They were shedding with terror. "Is he a warlock? What has he done to the Berbils?"

"He cursed them with a talisman. He received it when he first came here. He didn't make it himself," one murmured. She bundled them close, willing her warmth to spread into their tiny bodies. "He wears it around his neck. It allows him to control the ones near him covered in metal, and speeds the spread of the metal over time."

"The pendant? The moon one?" Lion-O was holding the Sword of Omens and the Berbils all made excited sounds when he tightened his grip on the hilt. "I can see why you guys have struggled against him so much. He's tough. But it's time he picked on someone his own size," he said. "If we take out his eyes we take out his power. Did you say Red-Eye didn't make the curse himself? Do you know who did?"

The Snarfs shook their heads. "It came in a box and he never speaks. Perhaps a fellow in the trade?" Cheetara saw Snarf's ears slide back in sudden shyness; the one speaking was Sarfina. She looked at him with pretty green eyes and smiled. Unlike the male Snarfs, her facial fur was light pink and creamy white, in spite of the dirt on it. "I knew you'd find a way to help us, Osbert. You've always been one of the cleverest Snarfs."

Cheetara would have giggled if the smell of Tygra's burnt hair wasn't making her feel sick. But the tiger was moving better, scowling. "I've been hurt worse, it just smarts. I'll feel better as soon as I punch Red-Eye into next week. I don't need to be invisible to do that."

Lion-O listened intently for any sounds in the hall. Red-Eye was not coming yet, if Cheetara's ears were as good as his. "How could Red-Eye see Tygra? Do any of you know?"

"His eyes are strong. That's all we know." Lion-O seemed to file this away and examined the Sword of Omens. There was very little light save for what it shed, and its reddish glow shone off the Snarf eyes. "How can you stop him when all he has to do is look at you and you're cooked by hot light?"

Lion-O tilted the Sword of Omens wearily and the eye beam from a metal Berbil caught it, bouncing off the blade and flickering against the wall. Pausing, he tilted it again and watched the light ricochet. He looked at Cheetara, expression suddenly crafty. "I've got an idea. But it's going to require speed and some excellent timing. And possibly the gift from the Snarfs."

She grinned. "You're speaking my language."

"I think I might be able to get loose in a minute or two. Ooch…it's good I was coming up on a molt anyway." Gyp winced, squeezing his fingers through his cuffs a little further. "Ah, ah…ow! My fingers are out of joint!"

"That's the point, idiot." Tug-Mug was watching hungrily, waiting. If Gyp could get his hands free he could undo Tug-Mug's bonds. He was deprived of his weapons, but Tug-Mug had always been strong. Opening the door would be easy if these manacles were off. "Keep pulling."

Gyp gritted his beak and with one final squawk he suddenly rolled a little. "I'm loose…ow, ow, ow." Flexing his fingers the bird headed to the door, the manacles still dangling from one wrist. "This thing is locked. The tiger used the keypad to seal it." He returned to Tug-Mug and began picking at the manacles with this feather fingers. "The Berbils made these."

"I'll give them this, they're good craftsmen." Tug-Mug had tried to free his fat hands but only now with Gyp fiddling with them did he feel the metal sliding loose. It sliced a deep cut into the back of his hand but the blood was slick and he freed himself with a gasp. "There! Move away from the door. You've got Mutation stashed in your lab?"

"Yes. They'll be sorry they messed with us. Threaten me with fecal matter will they?" Gyp hopped from foot to foot as Tug-Mug began banging on the door. Tug-Mug nearly rolled, the smooth bottom of his metal device wobbling with the force of his blows. Gyp grunted, pushing his back so he was steady, and Tug-Mug felt the metal start giving way.

The door split at last, crashing away from its opening, and Gyp darted around Tug-Mug, letting him roll in favor of sprinting for his lab. "Hey! Oh, who cares?" Tug-Mug began to pull himself around like a blubbery seal. "I know I've got an extra pair of legs around here…"

Gyp already stood in the hallway with a green vial in his hand. His beady eyes were focused on it like a prospector on a jewel. "I'll pick off every last one of them. The cats and those filthy Berbils. And then I'll snatch up every Snarf they freed. They've been thorns in our sides…I'll eat them and cow them for the last time. Their people will never believe they were ever free." With this ominous note he stabbed himself in the arm with the needle of the vial, pushing the plunger and throwing the empty vial recklessly away.

Tug-Mug watched this speculatively. "You know, this is a rather small hall to Mutate in."

Gyp made an embarrassed, nervous noise in his throat and took off running for the door. Tug-Mug kept dragging his body around, listening to the crash of stumbling talons enlarging, a large body hurling itself out of the exit. "I'll let you deal with the cats for now. If Red-Eye leaves you any ashes to kick around." Tug-Mug found a drawer in his own quarters – it was most like a freezer, a thin sheet of ice covering the counters and walls – and began pulling frigid metal from it and attaching it to his machine. "One of these days I'm going to figure out a better way of morphing between forms…"

The bird was not as large as Slithe had been, but measuring with his fingers told Wilykat that Gyp was as long wingtip to wingtip as a large tent, and the shriek that echoed over the forest made his ears flick.

Two little Snarfs huddled behind his ankles and an older one whispered, "The demon bird. He shows his form at last."

"I bet he'll head for the lake base and wait for the others to come out," Wilykit said. She was holding Snar-Fer and his behind hung from her arms like a rag doll, her arms gentle under his forelegs. "Can't we warn them?"

"I don't think so. We don't even know if they can stop Red-Eye or not." Kat scratched his head. "Gyp's not too tough. I'll bet we could take him, y'know?"

His sister glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "…You serious?"

"Hear me out. Slithe was bigger, stronger, and smarter. Gyp was a wimp when Tygra fought him earlier, and just because he's got some Mutation in him doesn't mean he's suddenly invincible. Not to mention if the others are hurt, the last thing they'll need is an overgrown turkey attacking them when they come out. We're the backup after all." Kat's eyes followed the circular motion of the great bird. He was swooping in low arcs over the trees, and sitting where they were it was hard to tell what might be below him, so Kat stood up and stretched. A tree branch was not the most comfortable place for one's bottom either.

All of a sudden the bird dove and the sound of talons on metal rang over the trees. He came into view again, soaring high to dive again. Whatever he was attacking, it was big and stationary.

"How would we get Gyp to come after us?" Kit asked thoughtfully. Kat shrugged.

"Still thinking about that."

For a few moments they watched and then Kit clapped. "If he saw us, I bet he'd try to attack." Kat gave her a disturbed look. "But what he won't be expecting is an ambush. Just like with him and Tug-Mug earlier."

"Would he be stupid enough to fall for a second one?"

"If we get some help he will. Come on, I've got a plan." She slid down the trunk, out of the tree, and Kat followed with the rescued Snarfs in tow, descending into the dark of the forest.

Red-Eye had never disappointed the Lady yet, and he didn't intend to start now.

Some might have hated her for all she'd done. He didn't. The abilities had served him well and he was nothing if not grateful. Much had to be given for much to be received. The world was vibrant even in the blackest darkness, every corner crisply defined.

The Lady would keep the darkest darkness from coming. It was the only hope, and Red-Eye scanned his surroundings and sniffed. His nose was not the most sensitive, but that many filthy animals together let out an incredible stench. He prowled hungrily to the left, listening and staring straight ahead.

The crescent on his chest bounced. It was a beautiful thing, wrought from the ore of the moon the Luna had once called home and infused with metal and sorcery. The Lady was a greater witch than he was warlock; his gift was seeing. Her power was exponentially further developed in every way. Women tended to do that, push further than men. His mother had been a fearsome thing. But how long ago was that? He'd lost track of the centuries.

The Berbils loathed him, but that they had become brave enough to attack him was amusing. Having these cats along had made them bold. Red-Eye enjoyed very little, but chasing and fighting these bears…it was like the old days, hunting in the tundra. Back when night skies had been dark green and days had been blackish blue, far out in the cold recesses of space. Back when they hunted bears three times their size and ate on the carcasses for weeks.

Perhaps that was why he hadn't minded when the curse also made them stronger. It was like fighting those great claws again. Red-Eye smelled something unusual and turned his head. The group was close now. He could smell their fear and the bits of shedding fur.

"Hey."

A woman. He flexed his eyes but she was gone already, and he exhaled noisily. She was fast, very fast, and moved like the wind curling around his blows and disappearing in a moment. Disappearing around a corner, Red-Eye considered following her. None of the others would be able to avoid him for long, but the Berbils might be able to tolerate the beams longer than they. Flesh creatures burned to bits with just a glance, but he had made a good sport of the bears.

She was taunting him. The woman sprinted back, kicked him in the stomach, and was out of the way by a hair when his gaze followed. His lip curled and he followed her; he'd never yet experienced a trap that he couldn't get out of. Nothing, not even cold metal, could stop him forever.

The tiger had been hurt, and this had prevented them from moving far. Not to mention the mass of Snarfs they had tried to free. Red-Eye did not get much taste from anything, but they were a good source of protein.

Cowing them had been so easy. The tribe feared him, all but this new little beast with the cats. Red-Eye would eat him in front of the others as an example.

As he rounded the corner the woman returned, striking and ducking and whirling. He guarded his eyes with the light and by raising his arms, taking the swift, small, bruising blows. She did not retreat now, dancing around him to attack over and over again.

It was making him angry.

He pursued her when she darted back, nostrils working wildly to find the Snarfs and other cats. If he attacked them she would have to stop, lest her avoiding his eyes led to someone being cooked alive. So intent upon cornering her was he that he didn't realize she was leading him until it was too late.

He almost stopped though, and even though she called insults at him he gave her a cold, mistrustful look. She scowled, prodding him with the staff and he merely continued firing, heat searing the walls and missing her by inches. Red-Eye didn't move forward even an inch.

That was when she crushed something in her hand and threw a crumbling stone at him.

Salt, salt confound it! It burnt his flesh like acid and his eyes began to stream to rid them of the granules. Red-Eye roared and ran after her, firing and cursing in his mind when he continued to hear her feet after the explosions, never stopping or halting in pain. He'd get her for this in spite of his blurry eyes. The flesh-devouring stone was the greatest enemy of all Luna, and he hated it with all he had. The only thing that would feel worse than this would be falling in the salty ocean. Why did this planet have such shocking salt reserves…?

It was when he heard two Berbils behind him that he realized he was being penned in. Red-Eye shot furious rays at them but they simply curled in on themselves, ducking from his attacks and the alloy bouncing away what little made contact on the unpredictable, round surfaces. The discomfort didn't seem to bother them, and the cheetah's fists and kicks kept coming. Roasting her would be a pleasure if he could only get a good hit.

She had finally stopped for a moment to catch her breath and Red-Eye whirled, eyes flaring. But no, curse her, she moved again-!

The lion stood several feet back, behind where she'd been. And he'd raised his sword grimly. Red-Eye curled his lips; he would destroy the lion first then.

But the lion angled the flat metal, moving it up an inch and into the range of his blast. The heat seemed to sear his hands and Red-Eye saw him wince. He expected the ray to splinter as it did on the Berbil metal, burning off the lion's hands while it went.

The blaze came bouncing back in a whiplash of light, and Red-Eye had enough time to consider the cleverness of this ruse before his eyes erupted in agony and he hit the ground, screaming and curling up in a ball. He hid his face under his stomach, seeing nothing but darkness. Was he blind? Oh if the pain would stop he wouldn't care if he never saw again; it felt like his eyeballs were being cooked. The pain of the salt vanished like a cloud, engulfed in this greater wave.

He finally flopped onto the floor, stunned and only half-conscious, a newfound hatred for cats burning in his heart and in his eyes.

"Okay. It might just be the pain in my arm, but that seemed really, really cool to me." Tygra found that leaning on the cold wall was strangely agonizing and soothing all at once. He could feel heat radiating from his skin into the metal and had to keep shifting slightly to keep cooling his bandage. He pretended the cold was like a healing mist, smoothing the weal where it touched. "Light bounces off reflective surfaces…very nice page boy. A little physics?"

"More of a lucky guess based on something learned in physics. It's good his eyes' power was based on light after all instead of just heat, or we'd be in trouble." Lion-O winced and blew on his hands. The Sword of Omens seemed dimly lit by the amazing heat and he finally just sheathed it. "I doubt it killed him. We need to question him."

"Seems like it should have been harder," Cheetara said slowly. The Berbils and Snarfs crept around the hall corners, awed at the sight of their great foe so easily felled. "I guess one enemy isn't so tough on his own. We'll have to thank the Snarfs for their gifts."

Bill tramped out from the next hall. He'd wanted to help but Lion-O had asked him to stay behind in case things went wrong to protect the Snarfs. Brazenly, he went right up to Red-Eye and prodded him. "He is alive."

Tygra rubbed his upper arm and scowled. "Yeah. At least he got some of his own medicine." Lion-O rolled the figure over and began to inspect him. "Ugh, doesn't he have any eyelids?"

"Looks like they were…removed. A long time ago." Lion-O sounded nauseous and Tygra was almost sorry he'd asked. "I don't think he was born like this. He looks distorted. See the old scarring around his eyeballs?" Sitting the figure up, Lion-O looked at Bill. "Another set, please."

Bill produced another pair of manacles from one of his fellows and brought it to the lion. Securing the Luna, Lion-O shook his shoulder. "Come on, wake up. We have some questions for you."

It took a minute for Red-Eye to stir, and another minute for them to realize he was actually awake. His eyes didn't look burnt or damaged, but the two slightly darker dots that served as his pupils – there were no irises, or perhaps they covered all the whites of his eyes back to the place where they burst from his skull – were unresponsive even when Lion-O put the glowing Sword very close. "Red-Eye, you have crimes to answer for. You've kept innocent people as slaves to take part in a drug trade producing illegal goods in Thundera and working with other criminals." Lion-O paused. Red-Eye had tried to fire experimentally and when the eyes twitched he suddenly groaned. Red-Eye was in real pain. "Hang on."

He drew a length of soft white bandage cloth from his belt and slowly wrapped the straps around Red-Eye's eyes. "Ordinarily you ought to close your eyes to help them heal, but I guess that's impossible for you." Tygra shook his head at this move but Red-Eye stirred. "Anyway, we've taken you prisoner. If you want to put yourself in the best position possible, tell us how to stop the curse on the Berbils and as much as you know about the Mutation trade. We'll see you get medical attention later."

Panthro crossed his arms. "I don't know that he deserves it after what he's done to the Berbils and Snarfs."

Lion-O nodded. "He probably doesn't. And he shouldn't really have to have a trial. But we'll give him these because we're going to take the high road. I hope that's all right," he added, glancing at Bill.

The Berbils sighed. "We are not barbarians. If we are saved from our fates and he faces a court, we will not stand in the way." His soft eyes darkened at the sight of the crescent pendant. "That thing has caused our grief. I would destroy it now if it would lift the curse."

Cheetara slipped it off Red-Eye's neck and held it gingerly by the strap. "Does he have a study or a work area? An office?"

Sarfina approached warily, staring at this figure that had tormented her people for months and now seemed so compliant and defeated. "There is a place. He keeps a console in there, and a workbench. Sometimes Snarfs had to deliver reports on the day's work to him there. They didn't always come back, but we all knew the way. It's in the deepest part of the base."

Tygra took great pleasure in forcing the Luna to his feet. "A man's office is a good place for an interrogation." Lion-O seemed uneasy in the face of this. He turned to the horde of Snarfs.

"Go to the main entrance and wait for us there. I hate to make you wait, but we have to try to help the Berbils. We'll find a way over the road soon." The Snarfs muttered in agreement and a few bowed reverently or rolled onto their backs to display their bellies in respect. Lion-O silently bowed in the Imperial way, hand on his chest.

Bill stood before him. "I will go with you. My people will go with the Snarfs to help them. If anything attacks, they will guard them with their lives." He turned his head and gazed at Red-Eye with steely determination. "Let us look for information."

Sarfina led the way hesitantly, pausing every so often to sniff the ground and rest one hind leg. The first time she whimpered Snarf drew up close and examined her paw. "Sarfina, your leg is hurt!" he exclaimed. Tygra looked at the burnt fur and rubbed his own arm in sympathy. "Did this foul creature burn you?"

"Just a little. It was to make me move faster a few days ago." She lifted her foot experimentally. "It stings is all. It's healing."

Snarf, quite gently, began bathing her ankle with his tongue, and Sarfina cocked her head. "Hang on," Tygra muttered, tugging a little excess cloth from his bandage and kneeling. After Snarf had licked the spot clean and cool, Tygra tied the cloth on. "That should help."

"Thank you." She nodded at Tygra and then returned her pretty eyes to Snarf, who was suddenly very interested in his own feet. Tygra tried not to grin when she said, "Thank you, Osbert," a little more shyly. Her ears tilted fetchingly. Perhaps Snarf's luck was better than he'd thought.

Red-Eye didn't make a sound as he stumbled along blindly, Lion-O leading him by holding the manacles and following Sarfina down, down into the base's lowest, deepest level. When at last she sniffed at a door and placed a dainty paw on it, she said, "This is it. I think the code is four-five-one." Lion-O tried these numbers and the door slid open, and he led Red-Eye to a spot on the carpet. To his revulsion it was made of what looked like Snarf hide. Cheetara muttered something like a prayer to herself and Snarf glared at the blinded foe.

"Whoa, look at all this." The room seemed to be made of equal parts metal and ice and glass, nearly pitch black. Lion-O had to lift the Sword so they could see and he grimaced. "There has to be a light. In case someone else came here." Red-Eye made a sound at last, grunting and pointing in a vague direction around the door they'd entered through. Cheetara felt around it and found the smallest switch and flicked it. Instantly a soft light came on from glass bulbs overhead. It wasn't much but compared to darkness it was as welcome as a summer sun. "Thank you, I suppose," Lion-O said, eying the Luna. He didn't reply.

"Why don't you talk?" Tygra asked. Red-Eye turned in his direction, the bandages rustling over his eyes. In answer he opened his mouth and Tygra's hackles rose. Red-Eye had no tongue, and the black stitches – ancient, fused into his gums – glistened with his saliva where the back of it should have been. The tiny nub that remained shifted. "What in the…?"

Cheetara shuddered. He stared at her. "It's forbidden to dabble in the dark arts for a reason, Tygra. The stories talk about giving up something for power. The ability to speak for the power of incredible sight? Sounds right up the alley of the ancient sorcerers. He wasn't born with these abilities."

"Looks like he's written a fair bit anyway," Panthro said. Pulling open a cabinet, he'd tugged loose several books and started thumbing through them. "Might have what we're looking for. Considering I don't think he'll be able to tell us by speaking." There were many counters and metal doors covering shelves, and each one seemed to contain more tomes and notes.

"Recordings too. Old messages?" Lion-O asked. He scooped up a small box that rattled with the chips inside. "I bet we can put these in the console here to listen to them." These he slipped into a pouch on his belt for later and picked up a volume instead.

Tygra opened the nearest book and started skimming its pages. "All lists of Mutation experiments…chemicals, ingredients, failed attempts at altering it…I think I'll keep this." He hunted until he found something that could serve as a pack – a bag with what looked like a microscope inside would serve well he decided – and tossed the volume inside. "I think I'll take that too, actually. Always did want to play scientist."

Panthro rolled his eyes before examining his own volume, Cheetara skimming those beside him. "Hm. This is more about the indigenous species of plants and creatures here. One on forest lore, another on the land and Thundera's actions in it…guess he wanted to make sure nobody would come around."

Lion-O, on the other hand, sat in front of Red-Eye. "You can't speak?"

Red-Eye was motionless. Tygra kept one ear tuned to the conversation as they kept looking. Snarf and Sarfina began looking through other books too, hunting for information – Snarf's whiskers twitched when they brushed hers – and Bill stacked the useless volumes neatly on the floor so they'd know which had been skimmed. "Would you be able to write a little? I know you can't see, but it doesn't have to be neat. It'll be much, much better for you in the long run if you'd be willing to help right your wrongs."

The Luna grunted. Lion-O grabbed a nearby book – it was only half-full of notes – and Sarfina brought him a pen in her mouth. Giving these to Red-Eye, Lion-O said, "Where are you from? Who do you work for?"

Without his eyes, Red-Eye's writing was clumsy, but he had the tight, precise hand of someone who wrote extensively. "I hail from Lune. Before that your moon. I work for the Lady."

Tygra frowned. "You're just going to tell us? And besides, we knew it was a chick. Tug-Mug said it was his mother."

A faint, brittle smile on the dry mouth unnerved him. "The Lady will destroy you. She is so much stronger than I it is laughable. She made my talisman." Cheetara looked at the moon and Bill growled.

"What is the cure for the curse? If you are talking then tell me."

Red-Eye wrote again. "There is no cure. The best you can do is break it and stop the process. The metal will continue to grow faster the closer you are to the pendant, and breaking it is nearly impossible. The kind of power it takes to reverse the curse has not existed in hundreds of years. Even the Lady could not do that." Bill read this and his shoulders slumped. Lion-O's eyes darkened.

"I think we can break it. But is there no way to get rid of the metal on them now?" Red-Eye shook his head and then scribbled some more. Lion-O scanned this and his jaw set.

It said, "You cats think you can destroy this threat, but you will be killed the same as everyone else. The Lady knows, and she prepares for this." He fumbled for the edge of the page and Lion-O turned it for him and placed the pen tip in the left corner. "You all act against what could be the salvation of the planet."

Tygra examined this with furrowed brows. "Yeah, drug trades are really good for the planet. Addiction, crazy people mauling each other, crime and death…she must be a real saint, this Lady."

"Mutation is just a tool. She uses it to gain power to stop the Harbinger."

This did silence everyone, for very different reasons.

Cheetara flinched as if she'd sighted a blasphemy and Lion-O's expression grew very blank. Panthro stroked his chin and Tygra openly laughed. "Okay, now I know you're crazy. I mean, it was obvious before, what with the enslavement and devouring of sentient, talking beings, but now you're really nuts."

The Harbinger was one of Thundera's most feared boogeymen, a sort of devil if the stories were to be heeded. He was a demon that spirited children away and dragged them down into the bowels of the underworld, so "do your chores and don't pick fights or you'll end up in the darkest night." Tygra remembered the old rhymes and couldn't help but snort.

However, upon seeing Cheetara's cold look, he looked appropriately chastened. Though many considered the Harbinger a plain child's tale, the holy writings spoke of the dark being as well, and unlike the charmingly grotesque children's figure, this was a powerful, evil entity. He didn't believe in it, but Cheetara did.

But still. Even if there was some kind of Harbinger demon thing, the idea that the head of a drug trade was actually trying to stop it by amassing great wealth and some sort of power…no, that was too rich. Tygra crossed his arms. "So your Lady. Tell us about her. Where is she, what is she, and all that jazz. So we can know who stands in the way of the Harbinger."

Red-Eye began writing immediately. "I will not tell you who or where she is. You would only damage her plans, and they are hers alone."

Lion-O tilted his head. "…You have no idea about what she's doing, do you?" The Luna did not reply but his lips curled wryly.

"The Harbinger comes. I know that. Nothing else matters; only the Lady will stop him. My visions show death and darkness for all, and if I must be blind I would prefer that to the complete blackness which comes." Red-Eye put down the pen and nudged the book in disgust. He would write no more.

Cheetara frowned, settling onto her haunches in a crouch, looking at Red-Eye straight on. "What visions are you talking about?"

Red Eye rapped his fingers on the ground irritably. Tygra wanted to give him a good smack but restrained himself at the sight of her suddenly pale face. Cheetara licked her lips as if her mouth were dry. "Did you…did you see a monster in them? With big reddish eyes and lots of teeth?"

His claws stopped. He lifted his sagging head. Cheetara peered at him and leaned closer. "Did you see a creature that spoke and had red eyes? No pupils, no anything, just blank red eyes?"

"Cheetara?" Lion-O whispered. She looked up and opened her mouth to speak.

Cold, cold hands gripped her arm and she gasped skin punctured where the claws tightened. Lion-O was there and then Tygra, trying to pull Red-Eye's arm away from her, but Cheetara just stared at nothing, and his mouth opened and Tygra could see the stump where his tongue had once been.

"Ssssee. Heesh cohming."

His voice was old and withered, but when he managed to utter, "He's coming," Cheetara's eyes rolled back into her head and the whites seemed like milk as she hit the ground.

The world was bitterly, dryly cold and breathing hurt. Cheetara exhaled and her breath flew in the wind like smoke. It was like her dream from before, but instead of being in the dark her feet were on frozen sand and everywhere she looked there was a night sky dotted with frosty stars. She gazed up at it; green. The stars glittered in a green sky, casting its light over the pale land. Purple mountains rose in distant mists, and Cheetara held herself, shivering atop a small, sloping hill.

Was Red-Eye showing her a vision? Her mind recoiled – the man was a witch. She muttered a prayer and wished to leave. But nothing happened and her tail rolled uneasily from side to side. "What does he want me to see?" she asked aloud.

As if in answer, people dashed by from beyond the hill and Cheetara stared. They were Luna and they had foreign beasts with them. They rode thick bears with long tails and saber teeth, and each of them had flesh in cold tones. One young woman had particularly beautiful violet skin and flowing white hair that reminded Cheetara of snow in a blizzard. It sprayed and danced over her shoulders.

All of them were fleeing as fast as they could, and she counted about thirty people pelting across the flat. What were they running from?

A shadow fell across the land. Not just the shadow of a cloud, but long and deep and dark. Cheetara slowly looked to see its source.

Then she screamed. And screamed.

The thing fell over the land like a tidal wave, and where it touched the ground became dead. The white sand seemed gray where it grew and even the delicate green and violet light that traced the earth died away. The mountains faded, mere rocks, and even the stars seemed to leave this world as the creature stood upon it.

Oh that face…she couldn't look at that face…

Cheetara forced herself to, nearly fainting. It wasn't like in her dream, this was so much more that she fell to her knees and stared. The twisted face made no sense. The nose was too high, the teeth were too long, the eyes had no pupils, the skin looked like dead, beat leather. She didn't dare look at the body. It cast angled, sick shadows over the land and she was too intent on seeing the light in his mouth.

If it was a lump of crystal she'd never seen one glow, but she'd never heard of solid light either which would have been her other guess. The beast seemed to enjoy it as one did with a candy, letting loose a rumbling noise of satisfaction. It sounded like thunder.

Then it tilted its head back and the light disappeared in a swallow. And everything went so black that Cheetara had to shut her eyes for light, because even her eyelids were brighter than this.

The earth under her feet gave out and she fell into a darkness that didn't end.

When she finally came to Cheetara opened her eyes and wondered if it was her mother or her father that had come and woken her up after her bad dream. Because they would usually tuck her back in but the room felt cold. All except for her torso. Moving her arms, Cheetara turned her head against her pillow, cheek pressing against it – it was awfully warm and firm – and blinked. Movement was hard and she could see the bare mist of her breath.

"What happened?"

A light brown hand wiped her hair back. "Cheetara! You've been out for an hour!" Lion-O's voice broke the delusion that she was in her room at home, and her head began to ache when she tried to lift it. Leaning back helped, and Cheetara realized that it was Lion-O's cloak wrapped around her and it was his lap her head rested in. Three books sat beside him and an open one lay by his knee. "Are you okay?"

"Dizzy. But yeah."

Lion-O seemed relieved, helping her sit up. This made her head spin and she muttered, "Yeah, no…I'm just going to lay here for a while. Your legs are comfortable." She returned her head to his lap.

Tygra had been reading with one eye, pausing every so often to glare daggers at Red-Eye. The Luna was sitting in the corner, head hanging. Now he was taking out his water canteen, speaking soft curses against the Luna, against crazy hallucinations. The worry on his face was almost nice.

"We tried waking you but nothing seemed to work. Red-Eye said you would wake up and he hasn't said anything since. We figured he'd cursed you or stunned you somehow so we started looking through his books again to see if they had anything to help you." Lion-O's brows were finally relaxing. "I guess he was telling the truth."

"I saw the Harbinger." Cheetara spoke dully, Lion-O's warmth keeping her from shivering. Tygra had been scooting towards their part of the floor but paused when she said this. "Something really awful happened a long time ago. The Luna…I think their world was…eaten."

Red-Eye stiffened and sat up. Lion-O bit his lip delicately.

"That's what his journals say. They talk about a great demon coming to the world they lived on and a great darkness consuming it." She frowned at this, putting her cold fingers on Lion-O's knee, hoping the texture of his pants might wake up her numb fingers.

"He talks about a lot of crazy things." Tygra offered her a drink and she sipped a little, rubbing her temples. "His writings say that he actually lived on the moon before the Luna immigrated, but that was thousands of years ago. And he even claims the moon wasn't a moon; it was a dwarf planet and has only become one of our moons over a few thousand years." He shook his head. "It's just crazy stuff."

"Let's not assume that," Cheetara said. Turning her head a little she raised her voice. "Red-Eye, you said your Lady is trying to stop the Harbinger by using Mutation. Is it trying to eat our world too?"

Red-Eye nodded. Cheetara suddenly felt a little dizzier and she might have passed out again if she didn't feel Lion-O touch her shoulder. His arms were bare, she realized, as she was wrapped in his cloak. He must be cold. This thought distracted her enough to keep from digging too deeply into the terrifying thought.

A demon was trying to devour their world. "How would Mutation do that? Is she forming an army or something?" Red-Eye would not exactly look at her and Cheetara tried to imagine even a powerful army of Mutants taking down that thing. It would never work…would it? Maybe.

"It wants to eat a planet?" Tygra asked. For once his skepticism seemed to falter slightly. "How? It can't be so big that it eats a whole planet."

Red-Eye shook his head and scribbled on his paper. There was more on it now. Snarf – he'd been immersed in another book with Sarfina – trotted over to read it. "He says, 'The demon eats the core of the world. The core of every planet contains life-giving light. The light is sealed in strange stone."

Lion-O glanced at the Sword of Omens. "And the Harbinger is after this?"

"If you believe in him and that this is all true." Tygra spoke evenly, and again did not sound condescending. Panthro frowned.

"I don't trust this guy as far as I can throw him. Why would he tell us this? And if this Lady he works for is good, why is she running a drug trade that's ruining so many lives?"

Red-Eye made a raspy, snorting noise, and tossed his pen in Panthro's general direction. "That's mature." Panthro looked back to his books. "If she were good she'd be helping us. Maybe she's working against this Harbinger thing, but it ain't for the good of the planet. Cheetara, you're awake now, we need to get the Snarfs out of here. We'll bring these books and Red-Eye with us, see what else we can get out of him. Can you stand up?"

Cheetara found that she could, taking off Lion-O's cloak and feeling the cold air rifle through every last bit of her fur. Jogging a little in place, she gave it to him and said, "Let's move then. I can't believe I was out for an hour, it's freezing in here."

Bill toddled to her, carrying no fewer than twenty-five books in neat stacks. "We will examine these with you to help. We must destroy the talisman as soon as we can."

Lion-O put his cloak on and pulled Red-Eye to his feet. "Okay, we'll get the Snarfs back to their tribe and pick up Tug-Mug and Gyp. Then we'll see about the Berbil village and-"

The whole room shuddered and rocked, and everyone hit the floor as the frosty metal bucked. Bill plopped onto his metal behind, managing to keep the books together. "What the Ghen?" Panthro yelled.

Sarfina scrambled to her feet and felt the wall. The clanging rolled again and she had to gain her feet once more before pressing her ear to the wall. "I think I hear water! The lake…something's attacking the base and it's making the water flow into the lower parts! Listen!" The hollow, slurping noise of water was indeed much louder here.

"But…we headed down to get here." Tygra's rather obvious observation was met with the silence of closed throats and impending doom. "Oh. Ghen."

Lion-O grabbed a couple of books and scooped up the Snarfs and handed them to Cheetara. "Head for higher ground! We have to get out before the tunnels collapse. The base will flood soon and we need to be out before it does." Tygra grabbed a few books as well – anything they could grab and sprint with – and Panthro slung Red-Eye over his shoulder, much to the Luna's chagrin.

Cheetara started running, both Snarfs clinging to her and noticing that Lion-O's face in particular seemed white as death. And then the Sword lit their way and they fled into the tunnels that slanted upward, praying that the tunnels didn't give way and drown them all under the exploding pressure.

End of Episode 6