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Requiem for a Leader by Spaced Angel Part Six up Close, The Requiem for a Leader By Spaced Angel Part Six Up close, the situation at the Wollo village looked more desperate than seen from the safety of the Lair’s viewscreen. Several huts lay in ruins, their roofs collapsed inwards, taking the upper parts of the walls down with them. The Wollos had scattered, dropping everything in their haste to escape. It had been market day and the stalls now stood abandoned, their wares dashed to the floor in the wake of their terrified owners. It was a ghost village, inhabited only by drifting smoke and the four Mutants, who stood laughing at the devastation they had caused and pocketing valuables lost by the fleeing villagers. "Accursed Mutants," Panthro growled. Beside him, Tygra dragged his eyes away from the ruined village to glance over at his fellow Thundercat. "They are as they have ever been," he reminded him. Panthro nodded. "They've always been a thorn in our side, granted. But that was before they killed Lion-O. Now they're a menace." Tygra considered the deeper meaning behind the panther's words. "What do you suggest?" "If you don't know, then you've no right to carry that sword, real or not." "And you know why we can't." Panthro glared at him. "Speak for yourself!" The Thundertank lurched forward as he stamped his foot down on the accelerator. With a roar like an enraged beast, it tore up the ground and hurtled towards the Mutants. To their credit, they stood firm for a long time before it dawned on them that Panthro had no intention of stopping. "Panthro, stop now!" Tygra said, his gaze divided between the rapidly-nearing Mutant vehicles and the panther’s wild expression. "Make me!" Panthro retorted. "Do I have to?" Panthro spared him half a glance. "Yes. Hold on." The whine from the Thundertank's engines rose a pitch higher as their speed increased. Bracing himself with one hand on the control board and the other on the side panel, Tygra waited for the inevitable impact. Any hopes he had that Panthro would swerve at the last minute were dashed as the Thundertank ploughed into a Skycutter. Its wings seared off and it disappeared over Thundertank's roof as Slithe's Nosediver vanished beneath the vehicle's treads with a satisfying crunch. Finally only Vultureman's Flying Machine stood in their way. The Thundertank hit it head on, smashing the landing gear from under it. The full weight of the crippled ship thudded down on top of them and dragged the Thundertank to a grinding halt as the engines stalled and died in a flurry of thick grey smoke. "Of all the times," Panthro was muttering under his breath as he tried to coax the engines back to life. "Come on, come on!" Even as he said it, the Thundertank shook violently under the impact of a blast and skewed in the mud. "What on Thundera was that?" Tygra said. "The Mutants are regrouping," came Cheetara's grim pronouncement from the rear of the vehicle. "They're moving in." "The hell they are," said Panthro. His attention switched to the cabin roof and he hammered it with a double-fist. "Fine time to get stuck now!" "That might have something to do with Vultureman's Flying Machine being on top of us," Cheetara remarked dryly. "I'd say we're sitting ducks. Nice move, Panthro." He shot her an evil glance. "How was I to know?" Exactly as Cheetara had guessed, the Thundertank now shuddered under the combined assault of the Mutants' weapons. The wail and grind of tortured metal filled the small cabin as the ship above them was propelled round on its axis. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, all went quiet outside and in, leaving the Thundercats staring up at the rusty, unmoving underbelly of the Mutant vessel. "What are they waiting for?" said Tygra. "You're complaining?" said Panthro. Tygra ignored him. "They could blast us to pieces, so why haven't they?" "Because they can't?" Cheetara suggested. "The Thundertank is still pretty formidable, despite the fact that we're trapped." "No, I think they're waiting for something or someone." He glanced across at Panthro, whose expression told him that he had reached the same conclusion. "Mumm-Ra?" Right on cue, the sound of demonic laughter could be heard beyond the Thundertank's metal walls. Metal screeched against metal in protest as a supernatural force lifted the Flying Machine from the Thundertank's roof. It hovered ominously ten feet above the cabin before being hurled across the Wollo village, flattening several houses when it came to land. "Come out, Thundercats," Mumm-Ra called to them. "It's quite safe now. Well, relatively." His last comment was marked with uproarious laughter that made even the now-visible Mutants wince. He had issued a challenge, and expected it to be met. The time of reckoning had come and Tygra knew it was up to him to see that they made it through this ordeal alive. The weight of the responsibility was awesome, so much so that he found himself hesitating. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and he turned to find Cheetara smiling reassuringly at him. "We're doing this together, remember?" she said. "No unnecessary heroics, Tygra. We will come through this." He nodded, wishing he had as much faith in their abilities as she did. "If we can stall Mumm-Ra for long enough, that will give the others in the Thunderstrike time to arrive. At least then we won't be outnumbered." "I can deal with those whining wretches," said Panthro, fingering the chain of his nunchucks in readiness for the battle to come. "You just keep that old bag of bones occupied, then we'll send him on a one-way journey to Firerock Mountain." Tygra sighed, wishing the world could be as simple as Panthro painted it. Dealing with Mumm- Ra meant calling on the powers of the Sword of Omens. All he had was a blade and a painted insignia. He could stall Mumm-Ra for a while, but there would come a time when he would have to answer with the Eye of Thundera. When that time came, their deception would not long survive it. Panthro heaved the buckled cabin roof back and Tygra hauled himself out to meet what was waiting for them. As he had expected, Mumm-Ra stood with his hands on his hips in the midst of the carnage. Straw roofs smouldered and mud walls lay in ruins all around him, but Mumm-Ra's gaze was fixed unswervingly on Tygra. "So they made you Lord of the Thundercats," he said in sneering voice. "Why doesn't that surprise me? After all, who else was there?" His gaze switched to Cheetara and Panthro. "Tell me, how does it feel to have to settle for second best?" Panthro surged forward, but Tygra caught his arm and held him back. "If you came here to gloat, Mumm-Ra, you're wasting your time." "Oh, no, Thundercats," he said, his eyes lighting with an eerie inner glow, "I came here to wipe your insidious stain from the face of Third Earth once and for all. Surrender and I will be merciful." "Don't make me laugh," said Panthro. "When have you ever shown mercy to anyone?" Mumm-Ra's eyes narrowed a fraction. Without taking his gaze from them for a second, he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. From behind the nearest semi-ruined house came Alluro and Chilla dragging Pumyra and Lynx-O behind them. TugMug was close on their heels, holding aloft a pair of bound Thunderkittens, struggling furiously against their bonds. "I have shown mercy to your friends," said Mumm-Ra. "I could have killed them when they tried to attack me that in pitiful ship of yours, but I thought you would appreciate the gesture if I allow you all to be reunited one last time before you are vanquished." His expression hardened and he thrust a finger in Tygra's direction. "Now surrender or you will watch your friends die slowly." "Never." Tygra took the sword from the Claw Shield and levelled it at Mumm-Ra, trying to stop his hand from shaking. If ever a situation was absurd, then this must be it, he told himself. Here he was, facing down the Ever-Living Servant of Evil with nothing more than a fake sword and a good deal of bluff. He had to be crazy. "You have underestimated the power of the Sword of Omens before," he went on. "Do you really want to make that same mistake again?" The Mutants started to snigger and the Lunatacs soon joined them. A smile slowly curled Mumm-Ra's lips until he too was laughing. "Put down that toy," he said. "We both know that is not the Sword of Omens." Sweat started to bead in Tygra's palm, making it hard to maintain his grip on the hilt. His mind raced. How could Mumm-Ra possibly know that? What mistake had he made that had alerted the demon to their deception? He swallowed heavily before replying, moistening his dry mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about," he retorted. Very calmly, Mumm-Ra withdrew a weapon from behind his back. It was short, almost dagger- like in size. Around the ornate hilt was tightly wrapped a grey bandage. He held it up, defying them to doubt what they saw.
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