Love and Redemption

Author's Note:

This story has nothing to do with other stories I have written about the pairing of Jackalman and Cheetarah. This is a completely diffirent storyline.


Love and Redemption

Inevitable Change

They circled each other as two predators in a cautious game of combat. One at the top of her game, the other who’s heart hadn't been in it for years. Cheetarah held her quarter staff, not allowing its hundreds of options of how it could take Jackalman down dismay her concentration from her goal, defeat Jackalman and move on to join the other Thundercats in battling Mummra. Having fought so many dozens of times before they were nearly as intimate as lovers, but differed literally as aliens.

"You're slipping, Jackalman," said Cheetarah, her eyes focused in a deadly gaze.

Normally Jackalman would have given a witty retort, but she was right, he was slipping. Jackalman was never among the strongest of mutants, but he was the quickest. Although his speed would never match Cheetarah's, Jackalman did pride himself on his endurance and his cunning. Over the years both were letting him down, as each day seemed to chip away more and more at him, loosing a step here and a block there.
He leaped at Cheetarah with his club, hoping to make hard contact with her quarter staff and cause her grip to shake so he could get an inside shot. His overhead swing completely missed her as she used her super speed to dash out of the way and his club smashed against a solid rock face, the impact sending an electric shock up his arm and crippling his shoulder. His right side was left completely open as Cheetarah passed on an opportunity to knock out his ribs just to chastise him.

"What's with you, Jackalman? Slythe could have dodged that blow."

For a moment Jackalman didn't get up. He raised his club as his hand trembled violently and he had the most puzzling look on his face, like something was going on Cheetarah wasn't aware of. Jackalman leaned against the rock face to stand himself up and turned to face Cheetarah, looking more strange and frightened than she had ever seen him before. He tried to steady his club and took and defensive fighting stance, but his hand started trembling again and Jackalman dropped his club, then fell to his knees as he held his right arm at the wrist while his hand shook weakly.
It was obvious he was not involved in the fight anymore, but as Cheetarah's duty to join her clan called to her, pity had taken over her as she looked at this disheveled shell of a mutant before her.

"What is it?"

Beaten and broken, Jackalman looked up to the proud powerful Amazon from his knees and in a remarkable gesture of honesty he said;

"It's started... I.... have palsy."

Jackalman lowered his head in grief as Cheetarah had not believed what she had just seen. No words from Jackalman could ever be taken seriously yet somehow she knew he was being absolutely earnest. Such intimacy with a mutant was disturbing.

"What are you talking about, Jackalman?" asked Cheetarah, he words questioning his honesty, but her instincts telling her otherwise.

"I can't fight anymore," said Jackalman, sounding so different from anything Cheetarah ever heard before.

"Is this just some trick to back out without getting hurt?" asked Cheetarah.

Jackalman took his club and threw it aside, then looked at Cheetarah with something she had never seen before, mutant tears.

"You don't get it, I give, alright?" said Jackalman, "I can never fight again. Ever."

Cheetarah lowered her quarter staff, then folded it and stowed it away under her gauntlet.

"You really mean that, don't you?" asked Cheetarah.

"Do you want to take me prisoner?"

"No."

"Then I have to go to the mutant camp, and tell Slythe to take me off of active duty. I'm no good against you anymore," said Jackalman as he turned to hobble away while holding his shoulder, "I'm no good against any of the Thundercats."

Puzzling as long as she dared, Cheetarah watched Jackalman limp away with a strange curiosity growing within her. She darted off to find the other Thundercats within the catacombs of a ruin. Mummra was making another failed attempt to get his hands on a piece of the treasures of Thundera. After Mummra's inevitable defeat Lion-o wanted to organize a search of the ruins for other possible pieces but Cheetarah asked if she could perform a little covert surveillance on the mutants. Her excuse was to find out if the mutants knew of any other possible locations of the treasure, but she wasn't really concerned about that.
Lion-o authorized Cheetarah's request but thought it was a little unusual her insistence on working alone. She said she was going to use her super speed to infiltrate the mutant camp unnoticed and it made sense to him. He figured Cheetarah must have had some kind of ulterior motive as Thunderian technology and the Eye of Thundera could easily spy on the mutants with little effort, but if Cheetarah had a plan Lion-o was going to let her explore it.
Cheetarah ran back to the place where she had briefly fought Jackalman, then followed the direction she watched him walk off in. Although she had excellent tracking skills, the trail Jackalman used made a straight line to the mutant camp. Her super speed had caught up to Jackalman pretty much at the same time he was arriving at the camp himself. He had taken his time limping back, still looking just as distraught as when she had last seen him. It was very late in the evening, and the other mutants had gathered around a campfire with their weapons and gear. Cheetarah climbed a large tree and spied on the camp from above.
Slythe was talking with Monkean as he had spotted the growingly useless Jackalman hobble his way into the camp. Seeing an opportunity to exert his authority, Slythe was going to chew Jackalman out in front of the other mutants. He let off a slew of threats and mutant obscenities towards Jackalman, which in a very puzzling way he didn't react to at all. That took all the fun out of it for Slythe.

Jackalman looked at Slythe right in the eye (which he didn't do very often) and said, "We have to talk."

Cheetarah perked up her attention as she leaned out to pick up Jackalman's near whispering.

"You have reason for coming back in failure again, yesssss?" asked Slythe.

"You have to take me off active duty," said Jackalman.

"You looking to slack off again? Yessss?"

Jackalman reached down and picked up a tool from one of the bags of gear and held it outright in his right hand, as it slightly trembled.

"This is the heaviest thing I can carry without my hand shaking so much I drop it," said Jackalman.

Typically Slythe was slow to comprehend what Jackalman was getting to, forcing him to spell it out.

"I have palsy," saidkalmkalman.

Slythe finally understood.

"You want to cruise easily until your time comes? Or do you want to face your fate with honor, yesss?" asked Slythe.

"Slythe, I'm 34 years old, you know what that means."

Slythe paused for a moment, as though pondering Jackalman's statement, but he knew what it meant right away.

"How long you have?" asked Slythe.

"One year," said Jackalman, "18 months, tops."

Cheetarah was shocked, far more than Slythe was as he seemed to simply accept Jackalman's prediction of what must be his own demise. She knew very little of mutant physiology, but she knew that palsy was usually an effect from old age, and certainly Jacklemen must live longer than 35 years. There was soing ing still unexplained.

Slythe turned his back to Jackalman as though to reject him, "You can not hold a weapon. You are useless in battle. You only get in the way, yesss?"

Jackalman looked up in an indifferent gaze, expecting to hear what Slythe must say, yet not really caring.

"You are off active duty, yesss? You will spend you're final days sitting by a campfire and cooking beans."

That confirmed it for Cheetarah. Jackalman was dying, and somehow that bothered her. Such a vital warrior cut down at such a young age. She pondered maybe it reminded her of her own mortality as Jackalman was a little younger than herself, but there was something else. She asked herself why should she care if Jackalman was dying, in the long run it would simply mean one less mutant to worry about. However, Jackalman had already voluntarily taken himself away from combating the Thundercats and she didn't want to be so heartless as to have him die on top of that.
For a few moments Cheetarah watched Jackalman retire to his tent. He took a photo out of a carry-on bag and looked it for a moment, then he curled up to sleep on his cot. His sleeping face looked so different from his typical character. Cheetarah had only seen it once before, then as now she pondered how it utterly transformed his appearance. He didn't look at all like a hideous disgusting conniving plunderer, he looked helpless, and maybe even a little cute.