FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nova Heryana

“We have begun our descent into Nova Heryana.”

The Lupiad pilot’s voice roused Brolath from his sleep. Yawning, the Regulian found Leon still fast asleep, leaning his head on Brolath’s shoulder and clutching the stuffed lion close to his chest.

Nova Heryana had proven itself to be a gem of Lupiad culture within a planet of a hodgepodge of humanity’s remnant cultures and Regulian attempts at subjugation and assimilation.

Much of the city was underground and the surface was covered in climate controlled domes. An inspiration from the moon of Lupus, being tidal-locked, required some extreme solutions in order to exploit all of its land and resources. It was only natural that when the Duchy of Eurasia was created and put into the paws of Yora that Lupiad settlers were the ones sent to tame the wilderness of Siberia, which had both freezing cold winters and humid, sweltering summers.

“Just like Lupus,” Rorgh groaned awake as the lift-copter veered closer to the tall domes of the small city on the horizon.

“You never went here before during your last visit to Earth?”

“Why go to Earth to see Lupus?” Rorgh’s maw opened in a wide yawn. “Besides, Eurasia was incredibly dangerous last time I came here. Incalculable rebels hiding in the wilderness and not to mention the wildlife, both domestic and imported.”

“Imported?”

“It’s a massive, empty area. Makes it a popular place for nobles to dump their exotic pets when they’ve grown too big or dangerous. Coupled with the terrible infrastructure, if you get lost you run the risk of getting eaten by Regarites or worse and no one will ever find you.”

“Isn’t the Duchess maintaining the infrastructure properly?”

“Yora’s the only reason we’re safe coming here but there’s only so much she can do. You can built roads and rail, but when a breeding part of Omnidevourers got loose, well, good luck hunting those things down.”

“Omnidevourers!?” Brolath exclaimed, jostling Leon awake. “Here!? Without royal assent, exporting them is...”

“Back when Europa and Eurasia were all one big Duchy, a local Baron imported them to use them for a planet-wide garbage disposal business, but with the overextended local government and some corruption at the space elevator customs, he got a hold of them for his estate on Earth and soon after they escaped. Nobody’s quite sure how big their clutch is now but just one free on a planet is too many.”

“We should have exterminated them to the last whelp,” Brolath grumbled. “I trust that Baron was punished?”

“His mane was shaven and he was enslaved. I believe he’s property of the Recreational Corps now.”

“Serves him right.”

“EVASIVE MANUEVERS!”

The lift-copter veered violently to the side and Brolath froze. Rorgh tucked his head between his legs and Leon held Brolath tight. Brolath could not move, for as the vehicle tilted, he saw a red flare shoot past the window behind Rorgh’s head.

A deafening explosion rocked the lift-copter and Brolath’s head banged against the window behind him. Stars blotted out his vision while a dull whine filled his ears. He could not move, only sit there as his senses slowly returned.

“...Repeat, we need an escort, now! Left lift is on fire!”

Sure enough, there was a plume of smoke covering up the window across from Brolath when his vision returned and it was beginning to seep into the vehicle. The smoke was thick enough that it took Brolath awhile before he realized his Adjunct was still there in the crash position, safe and sound, and perhaps unaware of just how close he came to dying.

Leon was quivering silently against Brolath and all Brolath could bring himself to do is lay his massive paw on the little human’s head.

“Another bogey incoming at four o’clock!” the pilot barked. “Brace for impact!”

Brolath remained still. What else could he do? Was there greater glory in facing death head-on or embracing safety measure that were likely useless in the current situation?

Such a test was given to officers in the military as a judge of one’s personality in the face of catastrophe. Having not been in the military, Brolath never knew what the correct answer was, if there really was any.

“It’s...it’s gone!”

There would be no debate of philosophy today, nor would Brolath be joining the Eternal Guard, not that Brolath believed in such superstitious nonsense. There was no impact.

A voice suddenly buzzed in on the speakers, bypassing the pilot’s headphones.

“Put into action on only thirty seconds notice, discovered second SAM going at 1080 kilometers an hour mere seconds after leaving the containment dome, direct hit on SAM from approximately 1.2 kilometers with interception laser using manual calculations,” the voice was a smooth, Lupiad female’s voice, brimming with confidence. Rorgh’s ear’s perked up at the sound of it and brought himself out of his huddle. “I think that’s one for the record books, cubs.”

“Your grace!” the pilot exclaimed and in lieu of bowing, nodded his head. “I must confess, Duchess Yora, I am not worthy of you-”

“General Yora,” the voice sternly correctly, “and any soul in my army is more than worthy of my aid. Can you make it to the docks?”

“Negative,” the pilot replied. “Left engine is not responding. Barely maintaining course but we’re losing altitude steadily.”

“Maintain course, a tow will be arriving shortly. Status of the cargo?”

The pilot looked behind, lifting the shades of his helmet, “A little shaken, but they look alright.”

“Tell Rorgh I’m looking forward to catching up on old times,” Yora chuckled. “End transmission.”

The pilot sighed, “Guess you heard that, huh? You’re a lucky Lupaid, friends with the best damn General on the whole planet.”

“Really, we met under much more humble circumstances,” Rorgh cleared his throat.

There was a sharp thud on the roof of the lift-copter, followed by the sound of a winch retracting. The pilot flicked a few buttons and the engines died as they were softly towed through the sky towards the city.

“Captain,” Rorgh tilted his head, “are you okay?”

Brolath blinked and slowly snapped out of his trance, rubbing at his temples.

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you sure? You looked a-”

“I’m fine!” Brolath roared.

Rorgh shrugged and kicked up his feet on a nearby footlocker.

Brolath wasn’t sure why he snapped, he was still wrestling with the very idea that he had frozen. Why did he do it?

“The rebels are this close to the city?” Rorgh asked the pilot, content to ignore Brolath.

“Persistent pricks, huh?” the pilot growled. “Toss-up between the Blacks or the Reds.”

“Blacks and Reds?”

“The Blacks are anarchists, so far as we know. Seemingly disorganized as far as Imperial Doctrine goes and not as well-supplied, but they have a nasty habit of being able to seemingly vanish off the face of the Earth and reappear when you least expect them,” the Pilot swallowed. “The Reds are more organized and they have some kinda communal philosophy or some nonsense. Many of them are former pre-annexation military members and they’ve got some nice toys to make our lives hell.”

“Communal philosophy,” Rorgh groaned. “I think I know how this one goes...Yora must understand her enemy quite well.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ancient history,” Rorgh shook his head.

It was not long before the domed city of Nova Heryana was below them, the short towers within littered with glistening lights. Their escort began to slow just above a landing pad atop the dome with a tall tube beneath it leading down into the city.

Slowly, the winch loosened and the lift-copter swayed gently until it landed on the pad with a thud. A crew dressed in gray uniforms immediately swarmed the vehicle and doused the engine with fire extinguishers as the pad suddenly shook and lowered down into the tube.

Gentle music hummed in from invisible speakers led by a choir comprised of every species in the Empire. No doubt it was a challenge for the human singers to coordinate with their feline and canine superiors, being mostly tone-deaf to their pitch range, but they somehow managed to do it, much to Brolath’s surprise.

“These must be Duchess Yora’s personal docks,” the pilot announced.

“She has her own?” Brolath asked.

The pilot nodded, “She likes to take an active hand in defense and military maneuvers, as you can quite clearly tell.”

“Very exciting!” Leon peered out the window, watching the fire-control team at work. “My lion, I did not expect to be part of a noble audience when you first hired me!”

“Yeah...” the pilot sighed, “...just hope I don’t get chewed out by my CO for this...”

“For saving us?” Leon stood up and exclaimed, patting the pilot on the shoulder, who whined softly. “That first missile would have killed us if it weren’t for you! You’re a hero!”

Brolath tugged Leon by the wrist as gently as he could and the human sat back down without another worth. A growl rose up in Brolath’s throat but he suppressed it.

He is just being polite and the pilot did save our lives…

There was nothing but silence for the rest of the way down aside from the whirr of the elevator, the hiss of fire extinguishers, and the soft melody on the speakers.

Eventually, the metal walls of the elevator gave way to glass, which overlooked a small hangar with two lift-copters resting in them, one of which had the Ducal insignia of a brown bear standing up on its hind legs painted upon its nose. A small entourage was waiting near the only exit, with a gray Lupiad standing in the middle of them, facing the descending lift-copter. There was no doubt who she was.

The doors hissed and clicked before sliding open and Rorgh immediately crawled past Brolath, jumped out, and took three steps before bowing towards the approaching crowd.

“Duchess Yora, it’s an honor!” Rorgh supplicated himself. “It has been far too long!”

Yora was tall, even for a Lupiad, and would have peered down at Rorgh even if the latter hadn’t been bowing. Her eyes were pale blue, cold and calculating. Even from this brief meeting, there was no question as to who ruled these lands and she wore a gold circlet across her brow just in case any dared to question it.

“Rorgh,” she smiled, narrowing her eyes and swishing her black cloak trimmed with gold back across her shoulder. She was wearing a gray flight uniform underneath it with a chromed plate across her chest, hardly formal attire. “You’ve aged well. Never figured you for a Guard though.”

“Your grace!” a scrawny, white Lupiad suddenly butted in and raised a monocle to his one eye. “I’m afraid protocol insists, with all due respect, that you refer to him by-”

“Stow protocol!” she growled, baring her ivory fangs at the advisor. “Rorgh’s an old childhood friend and I’ll refer to him as I please!”

“B-but referring to him by his personal name and not his title...that is reserved only for-”

Yora wrapped her gloved paw around the Lupiad’s muzzle and held it tight while he tried to mumble out the rest of his sentence.

“Why don’t you just put a pin in that and we’ll discuss it tomorrow, hm? Go on now!”

She released her grip and the white Lupiad whined before scampering off down the hallway without any further objection.

“So, Rorgh, who’re your friends?” Yora grinned.

“This is Guard Captain Brolath, formerly under the command of the Emperor himself, rest his soul.”

“Rest his soul,” Yora bowed and closed her eyes. “And the slave?”

“Leon, your grace,” Leon twirled his hand before bowing deeply, “free human and entrepreneur of the great city of Bern.”

Yora returned the bow, much to Brolath’s surprise.

“Rorgh tells me that you have a human you need found? And the matter is urgent?” she stepped away from her entourage and lowered her voice to a whisper in Brolath’s ear. “The Grand Regent himself is getting impatient, hm?”

Brolath looked over at Rorgh and folded his ears. Rorgh just replied with a shrug.

“We’ve sent an update to him that we know he’s in Siberia and currently involved with a deep undercover mission, but Proclath insisted he report to him personally on a call.”

Yora’s nose brushed up against Brolath’s ear, it was cold, “I think Proclath will be too busy to attend that meeting. The Regency Council came so close to choosing a new heir, you know?”

“Really?” Brolath whispered and felt his muscles tense up.

“Prince Peter...they would have had him revert back to his Regulian name come his coronation but...” Yora sniffed and chuckled, “...someone leaked evidence that showed the picture of him raising the Imperial Banner after winning the Siege of Moscow was edited and that he was miles away at the time, having abandoned his post in a panic, and leaving a certain young Lupiad officer in charge.”

“I think I see what you’re getting at.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly understand what you’re hinting at, dear Captain,” she laughed. “But rest assured, Proclath will be too busy rushing to find a new heir in the meantime.”

She turned around and stepped away, swishing her tail, and finally raising her voice to normal volume, “Which is good news because Siberia is a very big place and the message you received from your human was not very specific. Between the human rebels, competing Lupiad colonial corporations, and imperial meddlers, Eurasia is not a very peaceful place for us and your human and his rebel friends are merely a drop in an ocean.”

Brolath followed up behind her and the others trailed behind him, “Do you mean to say it’s an impossible feat?”

“I’ve made my career doing the impossible. I went from a soldier to General, then I became the former Duke of Europa’s concubine, General once again, and now Duchess,” she swished her cloak once more. “Impossible is a surrender and I don’t surrender.”

She saluted a black Lupiad dressed in a brown uniform littered with medals that clattered as he returned the salute. Yora barked out orders, “General, dispatch lift-copters in all major cities to monitor the railways and make sure intelligence has access to the records of all stations, high-speed and regional.”

“Aye, Duchess,” he bowed.

“Any suspicious trains should be stopped immediately, especially if the passenger cars and the engine are non-standard, and be on the lookout for any damaged rail or crashes. If there’s one thing rebels like to attack more than us it’s other rebels who don’t follow their specific ideology.”

“Thank you, your-”

Brolath was cut off with a wave of Yora’s glove, “Save your thanks for later. In the meantime...”

She stepped towards Rorgh and held his paw.

“I would like a private audience with your Adjunct.”

Abel had lost count of the days but knew they must have been knee-deep in Siberia by now. For hours on end the view outside his window showed nothing more than endless fields and forest. He had run out of things to discuss with Hada and became only briefly excited for a moment when the train passed by a deer that was mauled by a massive Regarite leaping through the trees and tearing it to a pulp in mere seconds.

“Was that…?” Abel asked, taken aback from the sight.

“A Regarite. That’s what the Regulians evolved from, you know?” Hada shook her head. “Says it all, doesn’t it?”

Abel sighed, “I read about Australian history. The English came over and introduced foxes, who then, lacking any natural predator, made a whole bunch of animals extinct within a century. I wonder if that’s happening right now.”

“We’re not going to go extinct,” Hada hissed. “You can count on that.”

Abel rubbed his chin, staring out at the vast emptiness outside. There really was not much else to say to his old friend right now, not without getting into the same discussion that always teetered Abel one step closer to uttering something incriminating in the eyes of the rebels.

So Abel decided to say nothing.

There hadn’t been a WiFi signal in ages and Abel had no way of knowing whether Brolath got the message or not. Even if he did get it, there was no way Brolath would reply in the affirmative and risk compromising Abel at the wrong time.

Even then, Siberia was a very, very large place.

Nothing was certain but then, nothing ever was. This was just another infiltration mission, much like Abel had done in Ralothburg and the rebels were just another target, one that he was feeling increasingly unsympathetic towards the more Stein talked.

But of course, Hada was among them and in the end, Hada was still his friend.

There must be some way I can warn her…

But how does one do that without giving up the plot?

Hada stood up, slowing walking down the aisle and opened up the door leading to the next car.

Abel stood up and called out, “Had-!”

The world shook violently and Abel was shot backwards as metal crunched violently, crashing his back against a different row of seats. The train was suddenly very still and foul-smelling, warm air blew from the back of the car.

Lying on his side, Abel slowly peered out from behind the back of the seat and saw, much to his shock, what could only be described as a row of massive, yellowed teeth clamped onto the back of the car. Another jet of hot breath hissed through the teeth as the car slowly tilted up.

“DISCONNECT THE CAR!” a voice cried out from the front.

“Abel’s still in there!” Hada screamed.

Whatever monster had the train in its jaws suddenly jerked back and the wheels of the train squealed sharply. The very back of the train snapped off and the jaws opened, revealing an endless darkness that swallowed up metal like it was nothing more than a snack. For a brief moment of freedom, the train started to move again, as the jaws closed shut and revealed a dark, reptilian creature sticking its head out of the ground. Hot air hissed out of the slitted nostrils on the end of its snout like a dragon and for a moment, Abel thought it would be content with what it had, despite the outcries from the front.

“THAT OMNIDEVOURER WILL KILL US ALL, HADA!”

The monstrosity suddenly leaped forward and Abel sprang off the seat just in time before its massive fangs crashed into the car and his former seat. He tripped, rolling right against one of the fangs and immediately pushing himself away from it before the creature could bite again.

Finally on his feet, Abel dashed down the aisle towards Hada, who reached out for him with her hand but she never seemed to get closer.

It was only when Abel was at the edge of the car that he realized they had disconnected the train.

Abel leaped out of the car as the creature lifted it up, reaching out for his childhood friend.

He felt his fingers brush against hers before he hit the ground and tumbled down the side of the rail into a pile of mud.

Pushing himself up, Abel wiped the mud from his face and crawled to his feet. The Omnidevourer’s snout was facing up to the sky, throat bulging as it slowly swallowed the car whole.

The train was a distant sight now and it was clear they were not going to slow down and risk getting caught by this monstrosity.

Not wishing to be on the same railroad the creature struck, Abel slowly walked away from it, edging into the nearby forest, and keeping his eyes on the Omnidevourer. His breath was shallow, fearful that, small though he might be, this thing might view him as a snack.

As Abel backed into the forest, the creature finished swallowing the car and immediately snapped its massive face back down and scanned the area, casting shining red eyes upon the area until they locked onto Abel.

A hand suddenly clapped down on Abel’s mouth, followed by an arm wrapping around his chest.

“Stay quiet, human,” a voice suddenly hissed quietly. The accent was unfamiliar to Abel. “No one’s going to hurt you, okay?”

The grip Abel had on him was tight and he found himself unable to move, let alone raise an objection. The massive creature was still staring in Abel’s direction, expressionless.

“It favors biological matter but if you don’t move it won’t see you and will go back to eating dirt and metal,” the voice continued. “Stay still and we will all be okay, I promise.”

The voice was oddly reassuring and it’s not like Abel had a choice, so he remained still in the clutches of whoever this was.

Eventually, the Omnidevourer slowly turns its head back towards the railway and dove into the next section, kicking up massive chucks of dirt and debris as it burrowed back underground.

Abel’s mouth was freed and the grip on his chest loosed and the human took the opportunity to move.

“Thanks,” Abel said before spinning around, “I don’t-”

Black scales glistened in the moonlight, not dissimilar to the ones on the Omnidevourer, but smaller. They ran along a thin snout where two crimson eyes rested. A forked tongue darted out of its mouth, flicking Abel’s lip.

Abel could not move, could not utter a word. He knew what this alien was but it refused to leave the tip of his tongue.

“Sorry about this, but uh...” the reptilian fidgeted in the black, ceramic armor covering up the rest of his body, “...we’re going to have to insist you be our guest for awhile.”

Another wet tongue flicked against Abel’s cheek but before he could turn around, two strong hands wrapped around his wrists and a set of zip-cuffs were wrapped around them. A green reptile with similar armor as the other one was behind Abel and it hissed at him when Abel looked it in the eye.

The black one flicked out his tongue once more, this time hitting Abel on the nose, “Don’t worry, everything is cool here, it’s just...war, you know? We’re not really supposed to be here...but just stay cool and we’ll all be okay, yeah?”

The green one prodded Abel with the butt of a rifle and Abel felt his legs carry him forward, deeper into the woods behind the black reptilian.

The events of today had shook Abel too much for him even to think it, but he knew that he was now a prisoner of the greatest enemy of the Regulian Empire.

The Lacertans.