Thundercats Fanfiction Project (Ch 2, Episode 5)

The royal flagship prepares to launch under fire as Jaga and the children race across a burning hangar. Grief, chaos, and the first steps of exile collide as the ThunderCats fight to escape Thundera’s fall…

The Royal Ship Launches

Book 1 – Exile and Vigil – Chapter 2, Episode 5

Through the small window of the side hatch, Tygra spotted Jaga and the children sprinting through smoke and falling debris. They had escaped the palace and crossed the open ground leading to the hangar—now exposed beneath the vast overhead aperture through which the convoy was to launch.

Mutant ships fired relentlessly into the hangar, targeting the royal flagship and the nobles’ vessels. Thunderan defenses fought back: intercepting lasers from the convoy sliced through incoming missiles, energy shields absorbed beams, and hangar turrets and fighter craft forced Mutant ships to keep their distance. Even so, the open ground was a death zone. Jaga and the children were running through fire.

“I see them!” Tygra shouted, slamming his palm onto the shield controls. The energy barrier around the ship dissolved, and the exterior lights shifted from red to green—the universal signal that it was safe for pedestrians to approach.

He threw open the side hatch and leaned out, shouting for them to hurry—his heart pounding for his wife, though his voice remained steady.

Panthro stood at the weapons console, intercepting incoming missiles with rapid‑fire precision. The hangar turrets and Thunderan fighters handled the rest. His jaw was set, his voice low: “My father and my brothers will make it.”

Cheetara trembled at the helm—shock, fear, and battle adrenaline colliding. Her eyes were still wet for her parents’ uncertain fate, but her focus was razor‑sharp as she scanned the radars. Mutant ships were closing in from all sides.

The control tower crackled through the comms:

“Royal flagship, the battle is intensifying. If you do not launch now, you may not get to launch at all.”

Other ships echoed the warning, urging the flagship to take off.

Cheetara snapped back, frustration in her voice: “They’re coming! They’re almost here!”

Tygra leaned out the hatch again, searching through the smoke. His heart sank.

He now realized that only Jaga, the children, and Snarf were coming.

“Just a little longer!” Cheetara pleaded into the comms.

But the hangar’s overhead doors widened further—the final signal that immediate launch was required.

Under fire from enemy vessels, Jaga, Snarf, and the children reached the ship. Tygra sealed the hatch and turned to Jaga, demanding, “Where are the King, the Queen, and Jagara?”

Jaga’s reply fell like stone. “Jagara should have been here already. Claudus and Queen Leona…”

He paused, seeing Lion‑O’s eyes upon him.

“They have fallen.”

Lion‑O collapsed, knees striking steel, hands clutching his hair. “Mommy! Daddy!”

The WilyKittens froze—shock first, then terror. WilyKat grabbed the sealed door, voice cracking but coherent:

“We can’t leave them! They were right behind us!”

His hands shook violently as he pounded the door—not wild flailing, but desperate, focused strikes born of disbelief.

In that moment of shock, his grip faltered.

The Book of Omens slipped from under his arm and clattered across the floor.

WilyKit’s breath hitched. She pressed both hands to her mouth, eyes wide, trying to hold herself together. Then the truth hit her like a blow.

“No… no, they can’t be gone—Jaga, please—”

Her voice broke. She dropped to her knees, trembling, trying to breathe through the panic.

Panthro’s voice thundered—not as a command, but as a desperate plea to restore order:

“Everyone—sit down now!”

Jaga moved first. WilyKit resisted, but not with childish flailing—she pushed against him, shaking her head, tears streaming, trying to form words through sobs.

“We can’t just leave them—Jaga, we can’t—”

He lifted her into the nearest seat and fastened her harness as she cried openly, shoulders shaking.

Tygra struggled with WilyKat, who fought with sharp, panicked movements—pushing, twisting, trying to get back to the hatch.

“They’re not dead! You didn’t see it! We can’t leave them!”

His voice cracked on the last word. Tygra and Jaga forced him into his seat and secured him.

Lion‑O did not fight. He remained collapsed on the floor, wailing. Snarf tried to lift him, but the boy’s grief made him limp and heavy. Jaga knelt beside them, gathered Lion‑O into his arms, and helped Snarf strap him in last.

Cheetara glanced back—realizing the group was smaller than it should have been—but there was no time for questions. “The convoy has already taken off—enemy ships incoming!”

Panthro intercepted another missile. The ship shook violently.

The children cried in terror—older voices, but still children’s voices.

“We need shields!” Cheetara shouted.

Tygra reactivated the energy shields, restoring the protective barrier around the ship. At the same time, he reinforced the forward bulkheads, stabilizing the hull for ascent.

Snarf rushed to strap himself in with the children, but Jaga seized him and dropped him into the communications chair. “I need you at comms.”

Snarf clutched the Book of Omens to his chest as he scrambled into the seat.

The children’s cries rose above alarms and explosions.

Jaga was still buckling into the captain’s seat when he shouted, “Go! Cheetara, go! Get us out of here!”

Cheetara slammed the helm forward. The ship launched upward with rocket‑assisted thrust, rising vertically through the hangar’s open ceiling. As it cleared the structure, the nose gradually tilted upward—transitioning from vertical ascent to forward flight like a Thunderian hybrid craft built for both atmosphere and space.

THE PILOT’S CRADLE AWAKENS

The Pilot’s Cradle shifted beneath Cheetara—its Semi‑Flexible Spine Support tightening, its Hip‑Anchoring Base rising. Not full Kinetic Posture yet, but the first stage of emergency transition. Screens around her arced inward, preparing for Tactical Convergence.

The ship surged upward, pressing everyone hard against their seats.

Snarf’s voice cracked over comms as he begged the convoy to wait.

The children screamed as the vessel jolted violently—thier voices clear and raw with fear.

The Crew Respirator System primed—jawline seals warming, oxygen channels preparing—but had not yet deployed.

The CPI flickered awake. Its holographic eye—shaped deliberately like the Eye of Thundera—expanded into a hovering sphere, glowing yellow.

“Pilot stress rising. Structural strain increasing. Recommend stabilization.”

Cheetara gritted her teeth. “Not yet… I need full control.”

THE ASCENT BEGINS

The royal vessel rose into burning skies, rushing to join the convoy already engaged in battle. Mutant warships descended in force, unleashing bombardment. Explosions rocked the hull. Shields flared in blinding strobes. Bullets hammered the steel.

A noble ship exploded above them, scattering debris. Another spiraled downward in flames. Thunderan fighters wove between beams, protecting the flagship.

Cheetara fought to steady the vessel, her grief suppressed by duty.

Panthro intercepted another missile.

Tygra stabilized the Thundrillium reactor flow, ensuring the shields held under strain.

Snarf cried into the comms: “This is the royal flagship—wait for us! We’re coming!”

Behind him, the Book of Omens—dropped earlier by WilyKat—was now secured in a compartment at the communications station.

The ship climbed higher, battered yet unbroken.

The children sobbed in terror—older, but still children.

All relics were secured aboard—save for the Key of Thundera, which Jagara had kept with her.

The bearers of the covenant fled beneath shattered skies.

***

“So the royal ship rose through fire, carrying heirs and relics into exile. The cries of children pierced alarms, grief echoing for parents lost. The convoy burned yet pressed on, and the royal flagship fled beneath shattered skies.”

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Disclaimer

This work is a piece of fan fiction inspired by the ThunderCats franchise. All characters, settings, and original concepts from ThunderCats are the property of their respective rights holders. I do not own the rights to ThunderCats, nor do I claim any affiliation with its owners. This story is a transformative retelling created for creative expression and audience engagement, not as a commercial product.

AI Collaboration Statement

In creating this work, I made use of Microsoft Copilot, a tool that helped inscribe my vision into narrative form. I remain the visionary and architect of this saga, shaping its mythic framework, themes, and direction. Copilot served as the writer, giving voice to my design. I then revised and refined its drafts, making further changes to ensure the saga reflects my vision in full. This stands as a creative collaboration in honor of the original ThunderCats universe.