by Smith, S. E.
A moment later, his body was tingling and a wave of disorientation swept through him again. This time the feeling was caused by the reorganization of his atoms as he was beamed up to the waiting warship.
Cat’s Balls, but I miss the old days when I just flew into space, he thought with a shudder.
5
Outer rim of the Milky Way Galaxy:
The explosion shook the rebel warship, throwing Walkyr and his brother, Qadir, off balance. They were part of an elite squadron of warriors who had transported aboard the moment the shields had failed. They had overtaken most of the ship and were working their way down each level. He hoped the ship’s computer system would give them information.
A curse slipped from his lips when the ship rocked again. It appeared the rebels were determined to fight to the end, if the continued explosions were any indication. He braced an arm against the wall and peered around the door leading into the flight deck. The room was filled with fighters and other assorted types of transports. Qadir looked over at him when the alarms blared, while the emergency lights started to flash.
Walkyr signaled his brother to stay back as he visually scouted the flight deck’s interior from his position behind the frame of the bay door. Qadir nodded, crouched, and waited. Walkyr could see three men running toward several long-distance fighters, but they were out of range. He would leave the escaping rebels to the fighters deploying from Gable’s warship.
The automatic fire extinguishing systems triggered causing a wall of smoke to rise upward when it extinguished the array of fires scattered throughout the bay. The air filtration system activated, drawing the smoke up and out. Walkyr lifted his arm to cover his nose. Through the haze, he suddenly noticed enemy combatants within firing range. Raising his weapon, he fired three shots. The flash from his laser pistol briefly lit up the flight deck. He had struck one, while Qadir followed up by striking the other two when they turned. He was about to advance when he heard a computerized voice issuing instructions.
“Self-destruct sequence has been initiated. Count down has begun. Evacuate… evacuate… evacuate,” the computer’s automated voice announced.
“Cat’s balls, Walkyr! They are going to blow up themselves and us with them,” Qadir growled.
“Not all of them,” he grimly replied when a dozen ships lifted up and began a rapid escape.
“Gable, the ship is set to self-destruct. Get our men out of here,” Walkyr ordered into his comlink.
“Affirmative. We are evacuating the rest of the team now,” Gable instructed.
“Walkyr, to your left,” Qadir suddenly said.
Walkyr rose to his feet and looked to the left. Three men had emerged out of another doorway and were striding across the deck. He immediately identified one of the men as the escaped prisoner from the medical transport. Airabus had been identified from a facial scan that had been on record from his time as an elite guard at the palace.
Walkyr’s gaze moved from Airabus to the man walking next to him. The ornate cloak indicated this was probably the ‘High Lord’ he had been hearing about during his time in the encampment. His features were hidden in the shadow of his deep hood. The lights flickered as more explosions rattled the ship. Walkyr focused on the man’s arm when he raised it to grip a support on the platform he was ascending. The lights reflected off the metal limb.
“I think we’ve finally found who we were searching for,” Qadir replied through gritted teeth.
Walkyr nodded. They needed to track the ship in case the men were able to escape. His brother must have realized the same thing. Qadir grinned at him and pulled several disks from his utility belt. With a snap of his wrist, the disks lit up, swirled through the air, and landed in a neat line on the spaceship.
“Self-destruct in fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…,” the computer stated, counting down.
“Gable, now would be a good time to lock onto us,” Qadir urged into his comlink.
“I’m going to need a long-distance fighter as well,” Walkyr added as everything blurred.
* * *
Earth: Several Weeks later
Walkyr crouched down in the thick snow and watched two men working on the underbelly of a modified Sarafin transport. Dark scorch marks, deep holes, and twisted metal showed evidence that they had received some damage during their escape two months before and hadn’t fared well upon entering the planet’s atmosphere.
He watched and listened as the two men talked, trying to determine whether they were alone. He recognized one of the men. He had been the third man walking alongside Airabus and the elusive leader of the traitors. He didn’t recognize the other, heavy-set warrior. He must have already been aboard the ship. Regardless of who they were, they needed to be stopped.
He silently advanced on the pair. It would be best to keep the element of surprise for as long as possible. Once they were eliminated, he would alert Gable to send someone. He would need assistance removing all evidence of their presence on the planet.
“I hope the High Lord and Airabus find what they are looking for. I don’t like being here,” the heavy-set warrior said.
“It doesn’t matter what you like, Nastran. What matters is following orders. The Grand Lord will retrieve the Heart, and our people will be free to rule any world, including this one,” the man from the launch bay stated.
Nastran sneered as he removed a partially ripped panel. “I’ve been hearing that same promise for centuries, Ranker. The only good thing that has come out of this is that we are no longer working with the Valdier,” he retorted.
“I, too, prefer not to deal with the Curizan and the Valdier. They have no place in what is to come. Only the Grand Lord can free our people and give us the power of the Goddess. Once the power is ours, then even the Curizans and the Valdier will bow to us,” Ranker coolly replied.
“I say we kill them all. Letting them live is too dangerous,” Nastran stated.
“You need to think above killing. The High Lord has shown us what is possible once we harness the power contained inside the Heart of the Cat. The Sarafin will be the most powerful species of all. The power of the Goddess will no longer belong to just the royal family. You will see when the High Lord and Airabus return,” Ranker quietly replied.
“If the power is real,” Nastran snorted.
Walkyr curled his lip in disgust. These men were only interested in power, with no inkling of what it meant or how vulnerable the fate of their species truly was.
The power given to the Sarafin through the Royal line allowed them all to shape-shift. The coats of their cats were thick enough to withstand the fire of a dragon or the energy of the Curizan. Walkyr had observed enough of the Curizans over the centuries to know that it was not just their ability with technology that made them different, and Vox had grudgingly confirmed his suspicions.
What we do? his cat asked.
Walkyr smiled. We only need one alive. I prefer the one that appears to know a little more about what is going on, he dryly added.
His cat agreed that Nastran was the expendable one. Walkyr was about to take a step forward when he heard a machine approaching. Before he could attack, a strange transport appeared between two trees. A small figure encased in a weatherized white suit sharply jerked the steering handle on the machine to the side. Walkyr uttered a loud curse when he saw the two men reach for their weapons.
So much for the element of surprise! he thought as he sprinted forward.
He lifted his weapon and began firing. At the same time, he rushed toward the human on the machine. The two men returned fire, one aiming for him while the other targeted the human. Walkyr leaped toward the transport, wrapped his arm around the human’s waist, and turned in midair. A loud hiss escaped him when he felt the searing burn of several shots striking him.
His back hit the softly packed snow, and he and the human in his arms rolled several times. He immediately shielded the human with his body and lifted his weapon again. Both men had taken refuge behind the panels the
y had removed. The machine the human had been riding slid to the side and disappeared between two trees.
Walkyr released the human, pressed his hand against the device on his wrist, and held out his arm. Pallu had given him new adaptive defense technology. The glow of a circular protective shield flared up in front of him, lighting up as blasts from the two men’s pistols struck it. He kept low to the ground and in front of the smaller human.
“Do you understand me?” Walkyr growled, using the language Riley and Tina had taught him.
“Y…yes,” the squeaky, frightened voice replied.
“You are in danger. You must get on your transport and escape. I will cover you,” he instructed, lifting his arm and firing.
“Who… who are you? Is… is that a… a spaceship?” the young boy asked in an incredulous tone.
Walkyr gritted his teeth. “Yes, that is a spaceship and if you haven’t noticed, we are being fired upon. I suggest that you run. I will protect you,” he replied.
“Oh, okay… but, who are you?” the boy asked, still unmoving.
Walkyr grimaced when he felt the blows to the shield. A soft beep on the screen showed the power had been reduced to seventy percent—and it was dropping rapidly. If he didn’t get the human out of here soon, they would both end up dead.
“I’m an alien warrior who is trying to save your life. Will you please run to your transport?” he snapped in a harsher tone than he’d intended.
The boy’s eyes widened behind the yellowish tint of his goggles, and he nodded. Scrambling backwards on his hands and feet, he twisted and pushed to his feet. The boy stumbled and looked over his shoulder. Walkyr growled again at the boy to run. The shield had dropped down to thirty percent.
The moment the boy disappeared into the woods where his transport had vanished, Walkyr opened up rapid bursts of laser fire at the traitors. He holstered his pistol when the power level flashed red. Pulling a small round disk from his waist, he threw it and turned.
Walkyr took off running toward the woods after the boy, shape-shifting as he ran. The sleek body of his cat cut across the snow-covered ground. Ahead of him, he could hear the motor of the transport revving up.
He bent his head when a blast of snow hit him in the face, kicked up by the progress of the machine. The back end of the transport weaved drunkenly for a moment before the boy leaned forward and took off at a rapid pace.
The boy was a good hundred yards ahead of him when the force of the blast snapped the trees behind Walkyr and sent him tumbling over the small embankment. He rolled to his feet and shook his massive head.
A sound behind him warned him that he was not out of danger yet. Turning his head, he snarled savagely when he realized the explosion had started an avalanche. Massive amounts of snow on the steep hill began to roar down the side of the mountain.
Have to protect human child, his cat warned.
I know! Walkyr harshly replied.
He took off after the boy who had taken his warning to heart. The transport was speeding away from the scene. Walkyr needed to catch up with the boy, keep him safe, and somehow convince the human not to reveal what he had seen. This mission was becoming more hazardous with every second.
Must run faster, he told his cat.
His cat responded by spreading his toes further apart to better avoid sinking into the snow and lengthening his stride as he ran. He jumped over a fallen tree before swerving around another. The rumble behind him grew.
Hope filled him when he saw that the ground was rising. The transport ahead of him weaved back and forth, struggling to get up the steep incline. The boy looked over his shoulder as he crested the hill, then he focused ahead of him, pausing for a moment before he gunned the transport and disappeared over the other side. Walkyr lengthened his stride even more, running as fast as he could as the cascade of snow crashed to the ground behind him, showering him in a blinding tidal wave of ice, snow, and debris.
Walkyr crested the rise and looked back over his shoulder to assess whether the two men had survived. Before he registered what he was seeing, he heard a deep, blaring noise. He cursed when he realized why the boy had paused at the top of the rise. There was a road, and a massive transport was barreling toward him. His cat tensed and sprang out of the transport’s path.
The large transport missed him, but the one heading in the opposite direction did not. The impact was excruciating. He rolled over the hood, smashed into the windshield, and tumbled to the ground, rolling several times before he came to a stop.
Walkyr’s cat painfully struggled to stand up but fell onto his side. Walkyr lifted his head and hazily searched for the boy. He vaguely recognized the tracks from the boy’s transport before the black spots blotted out too much of his vision and his mind clouded.
In the background, were the sounds of vehicle doors opening and slamming shut. The loud, excited voices of humans reached him. He knew he needed to get up. He needed to escape into the woods, but his cat’s pain was overwhelming. He dared not shape-shift. He would heal faster in his cat form than in his two-legged one.
“What the hell is that? It came out of nowhere!” a deep voice exclaimed.
“I’m shocked it didn’t total your truck. I’ve never seen a cat like that before,” another voice said.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes when he felt a hand reach down to touch him. He could make out a blurry man in a uniform. The man jerked back when Walkyr’s cat moved. Unable to resist the darkness that pulled him down into its greedy claws, he laid his head back down and sighed deeply.
“Is he dead?” the deep voice asked.
“No. Help me get him into the back of my truck. I’ll take him to the rescue center,” another male voice said.
“You work there. Do you know what kind of cat this is?” the deep-voiced man asked.
“No, but someone there is bound to,” the uniformed man replied.
Pain dragged Walkyr back to consciousness a few minutes later when the men rolled him onto something smooth and dry. He winced and groaned but didn’t resist. He heard the men count to three before a wave of dizziness washed through him as they lifted him into the air.
Another pain-filled moan escaped him when they gently laid him in the back of the truck. He tried to lift his head when two of the men jumped over the side of the vehicle. The slamming of the tailgate reverberated through his head, sending another shaft of pain through it. He plummeted back into the blissful insulation of darkness.
6
Big Cypress Reservation, Florida
Trescina grimaced as another mosquito buzzed around her. Despite the light, chilly breeze, the little blood-sucking vampires were looking for their next victim. She pulled up the hood of her windbreaker jacket and waved her hand to shoo the pest away.
It was hard to believe it was January already. Her short vacation to visit an old friend had flown by. She waved to a couple of young teens on horseback and grinned when she saw their wide eyes follow her as she carefully skirted them in order not to scare their mounts.
“How does she do that?” Joe Billie said in awe.
Josie Tiger shrugged. “Grandfather says they are her animal spirits,” she replied, tapping her heels to the side of her mount.
“Why can’t I have a cool animal spirit like that? My dad said mine is the old hound dog that I found eating out of the trash can,” Joe complained.
Trescina chuckled and wiggled her fingers in Cinnamon’s coarse hair. She looked down at the white female Siberian tiger when Cinnamon looked up at her. It was nice to be in an area where the cats could walk freely without being feared.
“Animal spirit, huh? They’d really be shocked if they knew the truth,” she murmured.
Hearing a loud sneeze, she chuckled and looked down at Spice. The white male Siberian tiger appeared to be grinning.
“You know, I don’t care how often I’ve seen this, it is still unbelievable,” an amused voice informed her.
Trescina looked up. Her gaze soft
ened when she saw Willie Johns sitting on a bench in front of the small general store his daughter and son-in-law owned. The old Seminole Indian was leaning forward on his cane, soaking up the sun. He was the reason she was here.
“Hey, Willie,” Trescina greeted him with an affectionate smile.
“You have checked on the panther?” Willie asked.
She climbed the steps onto the wide porch. The two tigers bounded up the steps in one leap and trotted over to Willie for their morning scratch before padding to the end of the porch that was completely in the sun. Willie’s gaze followed the two large tigers.
She nodded and sat down on the bench next to him. “Yes, the ribs that were cracked by the python’s grip are healing. John said he is going to tag and release her sometime next week. She’s only been on her own for a year. I think she will be a little more careful about what she messes with next time,” Trescina replied with a contented sigh.
Willie raised a bushy eyebrow. “It was fortunate that you heard her cry and were able to save her, especially since it was dark out. You could have just as easily been attacked by either the python or the panther,” he commented with a stern look of reproach.
“Yes,” she said, not expanding on her response.
She didn’t bother explaining to Willie that she was the most dangerous creature out in the Everglades. Instead, she sat back and listened to Willie as he chatted about his day. A small nagging feeling drew her attention to Spice. He was still lying down, but she could tell from his stiff posture that something was bothering him.
What is it? she asked, reaching out to the white tiger.
Spice turned to look at her. His demeanor was wary. Trescina opened herself to the Siberian tiger. With all cats, she was empathic physically and emotionally. She could also communicate telepathically in a manner similar to the way that she talked with her own cat.
The difference was the big cats couldn’t speak to her the way her cat could. Instead, they communicated with each her through images. At the moment, Spice was sending her a mixed message. He sensed something wasn’t quite right, but couldn’t actually pinpoint why.