by Tim Marquitz
Cabe set a hand on Taj’s shoulder, clasping tight and holding her steady. She was grateful for it, fearful the spinning world would claim her and hurl her into the abyss of blackness nipping at her heart.
“We can’t do this without you,” Taj told her, still feeling like a million shards of glass, scattered to the sands after Beaux’s passing. She couldn’t stand to lose Mama, too. Not so soon. And while she knew it had to happen one day, there was no way she could handle it today, not after everything that had happened.
“You can, and you will, child,” Mama answered. “You must, for our people. You are our future, and I would see us prevail, as we did before. The old die and young are born to carry on, and that’s the cycle of it. You will continue on, no matter what happens to me or to the other Grans. You will.”
Taj shifted sideways and wiped a glistening tear from her cheek with her shoulder. It gave her a chance to peel her eyes from Mama’s and look to her crew. She imagined they looked much like her, wet-faced and somber, whiskers flat and ears pinned. She’d never seen them so forlorn, and she hated knowing they were seeing her just the same.
She wiped at her face again and looked back to Mama, doing her best to mimic stone, forcing her whiskers forward. “We’ll gather some blankets to make you more comfortable,” she told her, then reached out, slipping her hand into Cabe’s pocket. She snatched his nip out before he realized what she was doing.
“Hey!” he cried out. “That’s—” His argument ended before it started when he realized what Taj intended.
She peeled the back open and handed it to Mama. “Here. This will help a little with the pain.”
Mama Merr cast a sideways glance at Cabe and managed a slightly disproving shake of her head, but she didn’t refuse the offer. She took it in a wavering paw and lifted the open bag to her nose with help from Taj.
She sniffed deep and groaned, her nose dusted in nip, and then she leaned back against the stone, the emerald of her eyes like crescents of light behind the narrow gap of her lids. While there was no mistaking the agony she was in, there was the barest of reprieves playing out across her wrinkled face.
“Find someone to watch over her,” Taj told Torbon, shooing him off. He left without complaint. “Lina, hunt for blankets and bring a few here, as many as can be spared.” The engineer nodded and bolted down the tunnel, the pitter of her feet fading a moment later.
“What do you want me to do?” Cabe asked, and Taj shook her head.
“Stay here for now. I’m gonna need you soon enough.”
Cabe nodded, though it was clear from his expression he wasn’t sure what she was going to need him for. If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure either. Until she figured it out, though, she needed him there beside her, needed his solidness. Were she to be left alone with Mama, Taj knew she’d break down. She needed to be strong for Mama, for as long as she needed her to be.
Several quiet minutes later, the Gran’s breaths slow and unsteady the entire time, Lina and Torbon returned. Several of the older townsfolk stood behind them: Gran Em, a woman nearly as old as Mama, born the runt of Mama’s first litter; Harley, a young Furlorian who spent most of her time helping out in the kitchens and with the elderly; and Garr, a middle-aged Tom who’d been one of the first new litters born on Krawlas after the escape from Felinus 4.
“I couldn’t find Jadie,” Torbon said, concern causing his whiskers to droop a bit,” but someone said they thought they’d seen her not long ago, helping people into the hatch.”
“She’s fine, Torbon. We’ll find her, but if she’s down here, she’s safe.”
Torbon drew in a deep breath and nodded. Taj wanted to comfort him, to reassure him, but Mama lay right before her, and there was little else Taj could think of right then. She snatched a blanket from Lina and wadded it up, easing it under Mama’s head as Lina laid the others overtop the woman’s frail body. Once the Gran was settled, Taj planted a kiss on the old queen’s forehead.
Mama offered a whispered purr, the sound vibrating Taj’s whiskers. “I love you, Mama,” she whispered, her nose grazing Mama’s cheek.
“And I you,” the queen answered. “All of you.” Her frail hand gestured toward the crew behind Taj. “B-be smart, children, and be strong. Help Beaux keep our people safe.” Her eyes eased shut, and though Taj could still see her chest rising and falling, however shallowly, it felt to Taj as if Mama had spoken her last words. She hopped up and stormed off down the tunnel, the rest of the crew chasing after her as the others took their places beside Mama.
“Hey,” Lina called out after a moment, running up behind Taj and grabbing her arm when she wouldn’t stop. “What are you doing?”
“I need someplace to think, to plan,” she answered.
“To plan what?” Torbon asked.
Taj spun about, her eyes rimmed with crimson fury. “How to kill each and every one of those gacking aliens who did this.”
Chapter Eleven
Taj hid behind the stables, peeking out around the corner. The few pregnant balborans housed inside grumbled and paced, reacting to her presence and the smell of smoke from the burning buildings the aliens had laid waste to. Taj covered her mouth with her sleeve to keep from coughing and giving herself away.
A small band of alien soldiers paced the streets, standing guard over Culvert City and the five shuttles parked in a tight pack nearby, which had brought the soldiers to town from their ship.
The men’s backs turned to her, and she had to fight the instinct to run up behind them and claw their throats out. Much as she wanted to, there were simply too many of them, and she didn’t know if there were more inside the parked shuttles. She let out a quiet sigh and moved on. She had a job to do, and it didn’t involve her getting killed.
At least not yet.
Taj waited until she was sure she wouldn’t be seen, then she scampered off. She darted across a side street and into an alley between the blacksmith’s shop and the leatherworks shop, leaving the shuttles and soldiers behind. Once there, she pressed her back against the wall and peered back out at the aliens, again ensuring they weren’t watching her. Their attention was mostly focused on the small ships.
Satisfied she was unseen, she made her way down the alley with careful, quiet steps, and then peered around the distant corner. Having only expected more of the same, scattered guards milling about, her heart sputtered at what she saw, and she flung herself backwards behind the wall again, panting.
There were fifty soldiers or more, armed and armored, and marching in a tight cluster, but that wasn’t what had so worried her. Trapped in between the aliens were a bunch of her people, arms bound behind their backs and being made to trudge along with the soldiers, weapon barrels trained on them.
She knew them, knew them all, having lived and grown up there in Culvert City. These people were family, even if not by blood. She saw them nearly every day, chatted with them, went to class with them, danced and played with them. These were her people, and now they were in danger.
Taj’s cheeks warmed, but she couldn’t let her fury overwhelm her. Heavy-booted steps stomped her direction, and she knew they would soon pass by. She sucked in a harsh, quick breath, and ducked deeper into the alley, hunching down behind a barrel, which had been placed there at some point to catch the rain.
The stale scent of the water tickled her nose since it hadn’t been drained in a while, adding to the lurking waft of smoke. She sunk even lower, burying her face in her arm to avoid breathing it all in.
Not more than a moment later, the soldiers moved past. They shoved her captive people along none too kindly with rifle barrels. And while each and every one of them mattered, she spied a face she hadn’t expected to see among the throng of captives.
Torbon’s aunt, Jadie, the woman who’d raised him since he was a kitten.
Taj felt her chest tighten at the sight of her, sickened by the thought that she’d dismissed Torbon’s concern, assuring him Jadie was fine, even tho
ugh Taj didn’t know a gacking thing about what had happened to her. She’d simply been caught up in her own grief, too walled off to take stock of Torbon’s. She groaned under her breath, hating herself right then, knowing how important Jadie was to her friend.
Though Taj knew everyone being ushered away, it was even harder to watch Jadie being herded like a balboran calf because she was real family, Torbon’s blood. She was the only person directly related to any of the crew left alive these days. It would kill Torbon to know she hadn’t slipped into the tunnels as he’d been told.
And like the others, she looked beaten, eyes downcast as they were pushed along. A few Furlorians, mostly the younger ones, sniffled at their plight. The majority, however, held a defiant silence, not willing to give their captors any pleasure.
Taj growled low, muffling the sound against her hand, understanding there was nothing she could do yet, but that didn’t stop her from imagining the retribution she would claw from their hides the first opportunity that prevented itself. A grim smile peeled her lips back. She swore on Beaux’s memory these invaders would pay, and that she’d free Torbon’s aunt right along with all the others.
Once all the aliens had moved on, Taj made her way to the corner once more and watched the crowd until it disappeared from sight. Then she started after them, slipping from building to building, staying to the shadows as best she could so she wouldn’t be spotted.
She needn’t have worried. The soldiers were focused on their hostages, a victorious swagger in their steps. As far as they were concerned, the fight was over, the planet conquered.
Taj snarled at the presumption. For her, the war had just begun.
The aliens marched on through town for a while, and Taj realized where they were going. With the downed enemy ship in the opposite direction, and nothing else out that way but open fields, the distant balboran pens, and the trio of barns where her people stored the hay and feed for the balborans during the winter, there was nowhere else to go.
Right now, the barns were empty and would make the perfect location to stash the Furlorians away. The fact that all the doors were hanging open told her the aliens had already scouted the area and clearly knew that.
A lump formed in Taj’s throat when she realized the aliens’ intent as they shepherded her people into the nearest of the barns before slamming the doors shut behind them. The aliens must have realized they hadn’t captured or killed all the Furlorians and planned to hold the ones they had caught as leverage against the others. That didn’t bode well, but at least it meant there was still time to do something.
She stared as a dozen of the soldiers fanned out and encircled the barn, positioning themselves so there were no real gaps between their stations for someone to slip past unseen. Taj sighed, recognizing that the aliens knew she and other Furlorians would come for their brethren, and the invaders were prepared to keep that from happening.
A cold chill prickled at her skin as she watched the remainder of the soldiers turn and march back the way they’d come, right toward her again. She hissed and darted back into another alley, hiding once more until they were gone. She hunkered in the trash for a few minutes to be sure they weren’t lurking about.
Her legs pulsed with the start of cramps, the stealthy back and forth and hiding using muscles she was unused to using, especially after the rough ride of the last few hours. Taj grunted and clambered back to her feet.
A shuffle at the end of the alley drew her up short.
She stiffened, her hand yanking the bolt pistol from its holster and raising the barrel as she turned toward the source of the sound. Though she was prepared to, she hoped she wouldn’t have to use the it. While the aliens deserved every hole she punched through them, she knew the noise of gunfire would draw the rests of the soldiers to her.
Essentially surrounded on all sides, there’d be no getting out of town if she was forced into a battle here and now. So, instead, she bared her fangs and crept toward the front of the alley, claws ready to do as much damage as she could silently.
The scrape sounded again, and a dark figure eked around the corner and pressed itself against the wall, the shadows obscuring it. Taj stepped up, raised the pistol, and aimed it at the figure’s head, then laid her claws against the figure’s throat as she caught a scent she recognized.
“You almost got yourself shot,” she whispered, sheathing her claws.
Cabe started, and she slapped her hand over his mouth to muffle the squawk of surprise he let out. His eyes shot wide over her paw, and Taj could see his heartbeat thumping at his temple. Only when his eyes narrowed, and he exhaled warmly into her palm in relief, shoulders slumping, did she remove her hand from his mouth.
“You wouldn’t have needed the gun,” he mumbled. “You damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“Good,” she told him. “You deserve it for following me. Why are you here?”
He met her gaze, though she could see he fought the urge to drop his chin to his chest and look away as he’d done so many times while Mama Merr scolded him when he was a kitten.
“I know you told me to stay with the others, with Mama, but I didn’t want you out here by yourself.”
“I’m hardly alone,” she told him, grabbing his arm and leading him to the other end of the alley. With an extended claw, she motioned for him to look around the corner.
Cabe looked around and drew back a second later, eyes wide once more. “Gacking Rowl! They’re everywhere.”
She nodded. “They’re gathering up our people. They have Jadie, too,” she said, a jagged edge to her voice. “There’s a bunch of them in the barn over there.” She jabbed a claw in the general direction. “I’m worried about them.”
Cabe swallowed hard and nodded. Taj could tell by the wrinkled expression on his face that he understood why the aliens had collected their people. Nothing good would come of it. “What are we gonna do?”
Taj shrugged. “I know what I want to do, but there are so many of these gacking aliens. Even if all our people were free to fight, I’m not sure we could take them.” She let out a weary sigh, the pulses of anger that had so consumed her earlier, now cooling in the wake of what appeared to be impossible odds. “Still, we need to.”
“Yeah,” Cabe agreed as if by instinct, but she could tell he was unsure.
There was no questioning his loyalty or courage, but Taj understood what they were up against, and so did he. This was no simulation, no holo-remembrance of a war long relegated to the past. No, this was a new war, their war. There’d be no heroes swooping in and rescuing them from the bad guys, no last-minute saviors to sacrifice themselves for the Furlorians’ future. This fight was on them.
As were the consequences of failure.
Taj listened to the voices in her head, every one of them screaming for her to flee, to find someplace to hide until the aliens finally got whatever they came for and left, returning to the stars.
The voices wanted nothing to do with these aliens. They’d killed Beaux, crippled—and likely killed—Mama, too. They’d killed many more of her people, too many for Taj to name, and captured Jadie, Torbon’s aunt and the others. There was nothing but death waiting if she were to ignore the good sense the voices spewed.
Run.
Hide.
Escape.
Live!
Taj drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. Her mind was already made up. “Gack the voices.”
“Huh?” Cabe asked, oblivious to the arguments and chaos reverberating inside her skull.
“We can’t beat these bastards head-on,” she started, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t hurt them or make them pay for what they’ve done.”
“How do you suggest we do that?”
She forced a grin, eyeteeth gleaming in the gloom. “We fight dirty, that’s how.”
Chapter Twelve
“You sure about this?” Torbon asked, shaking his head as he watched Lina tinker with the damaged windrider, the Thorn stashed away behind a
dune outside of Culvert City.
“Am I sure?” Taj countered, emphasizing the question with a shrug. “I’m not sure of anything.” Thoughts of Torbon’s aunt popped into her head, but she shrugged them off. She hadn’t told him she’d seen her, that Jadie was a captive. That was another decision she was unsure of, but she needed Torbon focused on the task at hand. “Still, these aliens aren’t exactly giving us much in the way of options, Torbon. We have to do something.”
“I know that, but do you really think this is the best way to go about this?”
“Again, you’re asking me a question I don’t have an answer to,” she told him. “I’m making all this up as I go along. These aliens have our friends, our families…” she said, hesitating to tell him she’d seen Jadie. “Judging by how they rolled into town, shooting first and saying nothing, it’s clear they don’t place much value on our lives.”
“That’s exactly my point, Taj. It’s clear they don’t care, but shouldn’t we?”
“So, you’re saying we should run away and let them kill everyone?” Lina asked, spitting the words out before Taj could.
Torbon shook his head. “I’m not saying that at all, but we have to be smart here.”
“We do,” Taj replied, “but we also need to be decisive. There is absolutely no reason for these aliens to take hostages if they don’t intend to use them for something. Whether that something is to lure the rest of us in, for slave labor of some kind, or Rowl knows what else, they have something in mind. As soon as our people stop being useful, then what?”
Torbon only stared, but she could see the sense of what she was saying was sinking in. “They’re gonna kill them, Torbon, unless we do something about it.” She pictured Torbon watching Jadie die and shook her head to clear the image. There was enough guilt piling up already.