Turnabout
Page 1
Feline Warriors
Volume #2 — Turnabout
Story and Illustrations ©1996 - 2019 Melissa Wong. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient, or use the temporary lending feature of your device. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published by FeatherBand Digital Press
Distributed by Amazon KDP
| First Edition – December 2019 |
Other Books by Melissa Wong
Atlantis: The Visionary Continent
The Visionary Continent
Awakening
Ascension
Feline Warriors
First Contact
Turnabout
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Strangers In a Strange Land
Chapter 2
Invite Only
Chapter 3
Turning Tides
Chapter 4
Lead and Follow
Chapter 5
Three of Swords
Chapter 6
Regular Teenage Girls
Chapter 7
Black Tie
Chapter 8
The Elements of Love
Chapter 9
The Trap
Chapter 10
Communication
Chapter 11
Diversion
Chapter 12
Where Loyalty Lies
Chapter 13
Love is a Battlefield
Chapter 14
Life Goes On
Author's Note
Bonus Content
Links and Dedication
Chapter 1
Strangers In a Strange Land
Tana ran one hand down the console window they’d been using to monitor the situation, closing the holographic screen with a static snap. “I told her to wait until after Picture Day!” she fumed.
“She did not strike me as the patient type,” Clokua said, reopening the window with a flick. “In fact, she is so eager to get into Princess Cretora’s good graces that I am surprised she didn’t go down to the school as soon as you told her what Picture Day was.”
“She didn’t even get any information from whatever that was!” Tana cried, “Plus, she practically handed Blue Caracal an upgraded weapon! I’m telling you, it’s sabotage!”
“Well, you don’t have to worry too much—Prince Criatan and Princess Cretora are too wrapped up in their own plans to notice any failures happening around here,” Clokua tried reassuring her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.
“Has there been any kind of an update on their so-called plan?” she asked, picking up the cell phone. “As far as I can tell they’ve been spending a bunch of time at those old living quarters they took over, leaving me to do all the work of posting on social media!”
“The plan is still to find out the secret identities of the Feline Warriors and expose them,” he said. “And your part in that is to establish the Claravon family as socialites, embedding your presence into the humans’ everyday lives.”
“I still don’t understand how me posting pictures of myself wearing human clothing is advancing that goal,” she grumbled, swiping her finger across the screen in a way he was becoming familiar with. She must be editing a photograph.
“You’re the only one with access to social media, via that device you stole.”
“No, I helped Cretora buy a tablet. And I didn’t steal it!”
“By definition, use of a weapon to make someone surrender their valuables is theft,” he told her.
“I can’t help it if that guy decided to drop it when he rudely ran away from me!” she snapped, “Besides, what are you doing to help, anyway?”
“I-I don’t know,” he admitted. “The Princess hasn’t given me any orders regarding that.”
“She probably just wants you out of the way!” Tana laughed, reaching out and rubbing the palm of her hand against the top of his head. She knew it annoyed him, but she did it anyway. “You’re too short to do anything with, and you can’t take the cloak off. Besides, we don’t know what you look like under there. You could be hideous!”
He glared at her. She couldn’t see it, but she grinned anyway, showing her pointed eye teeth.
“Ah, I know—you could pose as a child. My sister is awful, so maybe having a little brother won’t be so bad!”
“Oh? You think I’m awful, do you?”
The voice cut through the mood of the room like a frigid knife, chilling him to his core.
“Vetrina!” Tana yelped in surprise. Clokua tried to slink out of the room, but he wasn’t quick enough; Vetrina reached down, grasping him by the neck.
“No!” she said. “Stay, minion. You’re going to learn something today.”
“Let him go!” Tana shouted, “It’s me you’re angry with!”
“The child-thing stays!” Vetrina snapped, throwing him to the floor. “And as for you, my ungrateful little sister... I come all the way out here, taking time away from my own endeavors to help your pathetic hide because it’s what Father would have wanted—”
“Do not bring him into this!” Tana snarled.
“—and all you’ve done since I’ve arrived is insult and demean me,” she said, completely ignoring her. “Well, I’ve had enough!”
“Good! Then leave already!”
Vetrina strode forward, reaching into her cleavage. She pulled out a slim black crystal and threw it at Tana before she could react. It bounced off her forehead right before she vanished in a puff of purple smoke, leaving two crystals hovering where she had once been. Vetrina laughed, snatching both of them from the air before throwing one across the floor of the ship. It slid across the smooth metal surface before coming to a stop against Clokua's boot.
“That is what happens to people who defy me,” Vetrina said, smoothing out the end of her braid. “It is your first and final warning. Yes, it’s true—things didn’t go exactly as planned down there, but I did learn that only half the Feline Warriors were local. The others came later, from another location. Once I gather information from that place, I will know enough to tell Cretora exactly whom each Feline Warrior is.”
Clokua picked up the crystal, and as soon as he did he knew exactly what had created it—Petroite. He peered into the center, Tana’s miniature form staring blankly back at him.
“This is where you come in, minion,” Vetrina said haughtily, throwing a small red rectangle at him. He caught it, but only barely. He knew he had a look of absolute terror on his face, and he’d never been more thankful for his cloak than he was at that exact moment.
“These are the files I gained today. Go through them and find out who the three Warriors from that school are. Let me know as soon as you have their names.”
And wit
h that she turned and stepped out of the room, her black cape flaring behind her. Clokua tucked the crystal containing Tana carefully within the sleeve of his cloak before turning his attention to the device the monster woman had given him. It was on a strap of some sort, with one end of it smaller than the rest, a silver rectangle with a clear cover that stuck out from the red body of it.
“What am I to do with this?” he sighed.
“Criatan, have you checked in with the ship at all?” Cretora called from the family room. “I mean to, but I keep losing track of time.”
“No. I thought you were at least keeping in regular contact with Clokua.”
“Damn, I’ll need to communicate with him as soon as I finish ordering furniture.”
Criatan set down the analog writing device he had been using and walked out of the study, wiping his hands on his slacks as he entered the room she was in. “You sound more and more human the longer we’re down here,” he told her with a laugh.
Cretora was sitting in an overstuffed armchair off to the side of the sitting area. A large television hung over the fireplace, a bawdy show playing quietly on its screen. She’d given use of the couch beside her over to Star, who was lounging across its back enjoying a beam of sunlight that had fallen over it.
“What’s that?” he asked, motioning to the black rectangle Cretora was holding.
“Tana told me they are called tablets. They’re like that smart phone thing she always has, except that it has a larger screen and can’t be used as a communicator.” She paused, one finger held over the glass face of it. “Speaking of Tana, she hasn’t been posting on that Me-Gram site lately. She’s losing followers—I’ll have to reprimand her when we speak to them.”
“We?” he asked, sitting on the arm of her chair.
“Yes. We’ve been out of contact for too long—it’s best to present a united front, to quash any thoughts of insubordination.”
“Good point, darling,” he said, trying out a human endearment he had heard used on a television show. He’d been working up the courage to use it for a few days, but if she noticed, she didn’t show it. Instead, he pointed at a photo on the tablet’s display. “Is that the room you’ve picked?”
“No,” she said, her voice rising slightly, “In fact, you build the room yourself! Can you believe that? Instead of a setting on the comfort unit, you get to customize each thing—even the floor textiles!”
Her happiness flooded over him, and he shuddered at it. His human form reacted quite differently to reading her emotions than his Tronatian one did, and he still wasn’t used to it. According to Cretora, the spell she used changed them on a cellular level, but they could revert to their original forms at any time. She said it was so that they could not be detected in any way, but he thought it was a way for her to disconnect from the stress of her leadership position.
In any case, she was fixated on having a completely human experience while they were here, and she seemed much happier doing it than she had ever been on the ship.
“You seem excited about the prospect,” he laughed.
“I might be. Just a tiny bit,” she said with a little laugh of her own. His heart leapt to hear it. “I don’t get a lot of opportunities to make my own choices in life. Everything is decided for me—even furniture. So this is... freeing.”
“I’ve noticed you’re more relaxed around me down here. I-is that because you decided on your own to allow me be here with you?”
Cretora bit her knuckle as she thought, his human body feeling all kinds of things about that simple gesture. It forced him to adjust his position nervously, and he wiped the palms of his hands on his pants again. Why did human hands have to sweat so much?
“I didn’t really think about it,” she admitted. “I mean, I need you for the plan—we’re supposed to be a successful Earthian couple with a child—one who isn’t keeping up on her social media!”
“Is it really so bad that she hasn’t posted anything?”
“Yes! If she keeps losing followers, then she’s losing status and no one will care that she’s having one of those Sweet Sixteen birthday parties everyone loves. I want as much of the city here as possible when we announce that we’re offering monetary compensation for information leading to the identity of the Feline Warriors!”
“Maybe she’s working hard on finding the identities herself so that we don’t have to go through all that,” he said. He expected a reply, and when he didn’t get one he looked down to find that Cretora’s eyes were fixed intently on the television screen. A male human pressed his mouth against the mouth of a human female as a crowd no one could see cheered. She seemed enthralled by it, and he had to admit, he was curious about it too—it wasn’t the first time they’d encountered it in human media.
“Yeah. Perhaps...” she murmured, looking back down at her tablet. She tapped a few buttons and opened a program with a black screen.
He was about to ask what she was doing when she reached up and grasped the collar of his shirt firmly in one hand. She pulled his face down near hers, and before he realized what was going on her mouth was pressed against his.
His breath caught in his chest. Her lips were soft, and his heart began to beat so hard he felt it throughout his whole body. She bent her head slightly, and his hands clenched at the dizzied, intoxicating feeling racing through him. Human emotions were amazing!
He heard a noise, and opened one eye curiously to find that Cretora was holding the tablet up beside them. She pulled back, her breathing rapid and her face flushed. He swallowed hard, struggling to get his mind to form a rational thought as he looked at her screen and saw an image of what they’d just done on it.
“Y-you took a picture of that?” he asked breathlessly.
“Humans love stuff like this,” she told him, typing furiously, “Just like on the television!”
He felt disappointment at that, but didn’t quite know why. His head was still spinning as he briefly touched his lips, remembering how his human body had wanted to do things on its own—to touch her, to move his own mouth against hers. He hadn’t realized how powerful human instincts were; It was no wonder that they behaved so irrationally at times, if they were constantly fighting to keep control of all these intense desires!
“What was that—the thing with our mouths?” he asked.
“It’s called a kiss,” she said, her cheeks still pink. “I’ve seen many humans perform it on the entertainment screen up there. Look! We’re getting lots of likes!”
She showed him her screen, where she had placed the image of the kiss somewhere called Facespace. A twinge of panic shot through him. “Does that mean the whole of Earth can see this? Is that the internet?” he cried.
“Don’t worry—this is what we’re expected to do,” she said.
“Is this a selfie? My human form looks so strange though...” he lamented. The version of him in the photograph looked nothing like the form he saw in the mirror.
“I think you look nice there!” Cretora said, looking up at him. Her eyes widened before she turned her attention back towards the tablet. “Besides, perhaps having a picture of you on my page will stop the other human males from sending me images of their genitalia.”
“They’re doing what?” he asked, an odd combination of unfamiliar feelings rising in him.
She handed him the tablet and he pressed the blue button labeled inbox. True to her word, it was filled with message upon message of human males sending her images of their external reproductive organs.
A high-pitched trill interrupted them, and they looked at one another before Cretora gasped in surprise.
“Oh! That’s the communicator!” she said, rising to her feet. “Tana must be finally reporting in! I’ll get it.”
She left the room and Criatan slid into her still-warm seat as he read the messages, the content of them making his mouth twitch.
“Can humans even do that to one another?” he mumbled in disgust, “And who would want to?”
&
nbsp; Cretora came back in with the communicator, a miniature hologram placeholder projected above it. “You ready?” she asked.
He set the tablet down and nodded. She flicked the face of the round device and a holographic screen snapped open to show their newest minion Vetrina, with Clokua sitting beside her. The blue-haired woman looked incredibly distraught.
“Speak,” Cretora commanded.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she sniffed, dabbing at one of her dark eyes with the edge of her cape, “But it appears that my younger sister has run away.”
“She did what?” Criatan cried, rising to his feet. “Why would she do that?”
“How do you know for certain that she has vacated her position, and isn’t simply out on an errand?” Cretora snapped.
“Because she left this note!” Vetrina wailed, holding the holographic pad up to the screen sensor before turning it back to herself.
“I can’t read that!” Cretora fumed.
“Dear Criatan and Cretora,” Vetrina read, “Thank you for your hospitality these years, but I am afraid I cannot stay any longer. The fact that my sister is so much more competent at my own job than I am only proves that my services are no longer needed. Don’t look for me—by the time you find this letter, I will already be headed back to Kaheen. Regretfully Yours, Tana.”
“This makes no sense,” Criatan murmured, “She was the only one who stayed with us after the losses we took outside the Rydian Galaxy.”
“Clokua, is Tana really gone?” Cretora asked her servant. The cloaked figure hesitated, then nodded ever so slightly. It wasn’t like him to be evasive—something was off.