Star Kitten

by Purple Hazel

  Patty Persian was standing in front of the screen with her beautiful teased up fur and curvy figure, posed like some Earth super model in a bikini. But behind her was live streaming broadcast views of volcanic lava erupting from holes and craters all over the surface of “Rijel 12” as they still called it. The planet looked like its entire core was puking up fiery death from below. Kscheeech said to himself, “My God… poor bastards-sss….”

  Patty Persian continued her broadcast from her alluring pose, adding, “The death and destruction have been cataclysmic… spelling the apparent end of the Earth invasion. Earth transports and medical evac units have been frantically pulling mangled and badly burned bodies from the chaos; but new eruptions seem to be occurring almost every hour; pinning down rescue units and thwarting relief efforts. According to Earth sources within the military command structure in orbit around Rijel 12, this is no longer an armed reconnaissance mission. It is now merely… a search for survivors….”

  Chapter 26:

  The Star Baby

  Weeks passed; and the nearly fifteen thousand refugees, escort troops, and tunnelers slowly made their way to the surface and—hopefully—rescue….

  They trudged along through miles and miles of tunnels, with tunnel teams working ahead of them digging out passageways for them to access large caverns long abandoned or devastated by combat. Sometimes they’d break into tunnels which had yet to have been explored by the invaders. Sometimes they’d find reservoir tanks filled with filtered safe drinking water. Sometimes they’d even find food! But still they marched on, rarely taking breaks for more than a day.

  Weeks before, the volcano had certainly done its job, blasting out most every tunnel leading into that last big chamber vacated by the Cave Lion tribe. And when the floor of that cavern they were camped on disintegrated in a horrendous blast of explosives; fully a thousand Earth troops and fifteen tunnel tanks with their crews plunged to a fiery death in the magma below. The escaping gas and compressed steam from the rushing glacier water set off a massive eruption a few hours later; which penetrated through miles and miles of tunnels and elevator shafts creating a geyser up to the surface and spitting up tons of deadly molten lava. Thousands more Earthers trapped in those tunnels or elevator shafts were incinerated to death or horribly burned.

  The explosions compounded themselves too; because other underground aquifers and impacted glaciers were subsequently freed and released to waterfall into the opened volcanic shafts, creating even more volcanic eruptions. The debacle continued throughout a full day and halfway into the next as Earther evacuation teams searched in vain for survivors or extracted whatever mangled disfigured bodies they could find. Within a week, the first of the Earth transport ships had turned back for home; and within another week, the whole mission was scrubbed. It was indeed a miracle. The enemy were finally leaving… and New Australia was saved!

  In the aftermath, Nicky Ciancio and the refugees were left to try and make their way to the surface and escape the carnage below. To their knowledge, the rumbling and horrific explosions behind them were either part of the detonation of the cavern floor, or the explosion of the volcano. They weren’t exactly sure. But the only thing they focused on as they journeyed up toward the surface was to stay away from any heat, hot elevator shafts, or tunnels. Basically their survival strategy would work if they just avoided being engulfed in exploding lava—and while they were at it—evaded any remaining Earth forces while they spiraled upward toward the surface.

  Never mind that they really had no idea what they’d do even if they did make it to the surface. For instance, they had only a rough idea of where they’d pop out once they got to the Service Tunnel; and they could never really know just whether or not the Earth army had been defeated or if they’d emerge through the floor of the service tunnel only to find it still occupied by enemy troops. If that occurred they’d have to fight their way to the surface; and then God help them.

  Basically they just really didn’t know what fate had befallen their comrades and loved ones below. The truth was that behind them, the volcano had eventually exploded upward, just like Cuttlefish had predicted; and blown straight up every possible tunnel, elevator shaft and volcanic vent wiping out such a large portion of the Earth invasion force, that their commanders ordered a complete withdrawal. The Naustie army, by way of comparison, had survived for the most part; just as Solomon had assured Felina they would. But sadly over twenty thousand of them were still trapped below miles of rock and debris from the exploding volcano. If they even could dig all the way out, it would take months. After they slowly ran out of oxygen, food and water: they’d start to die.

  The refugees had little knowledge of this either. Sure, folks like Felina knew about the plan to protect the army behind massive cave-ins so that the volcano blast would not consume them; but they didn’t know exactly ALL the details either. They just slogged forward, day after day, with wailing crying children, mewing kittens, squealing piglets, and angrily-hissing Zorg hatchlings. Comparatively speaking though, the Spleef youngsters actually found the journey to be quite fascinating. To them it was like a big game… they practically made a daily adventure out of it. That's why Felina’s little daughter loved playing with them.

  Meanwhile, Nicky Ciancio was relentless, pushing his followers to the limit day after day after day. Like an old brutal Sicilian mafia Don of old-time New York, he coldly admonished his followers, “Eh… yuuu wanna die down heeuh… in the daaahk? Den yuuu juss sit thayuh on ya freakin’ keestah and bitch about how freakin’ tiyud ya ah. Yuuu sayin ya feet huhut? Yeh, my freakin’ feet huhut too. Hey… everybody’s freakin’ tiyud. So jusss quit ya freakin’ whinin’. Get up and get goin’ goddamit. Ain’t nobody cummin back down heuh to git ya. Come ahn, weuh goin’… with oah without ya!”

  Once again, Solomon had chosen just the right man for the job. Nicky Ciancio simply would not let his followers give up on themselves. And no one… absolutely no one would DARE cross him. Nicky was practically sixty years old by then; and he was still just a big scary bastard whenever he wanted to be. Hair had long turned silver; but never moved, even with sweat beading up on his face. Covered in dust at times, his hair just mysteriously never became disheveled; even after he slept (which was rare). His voice was bellicose and powerful. Unless he laughed at the end of a sentence or when making a comment, you really didn’t know if he was about to either hug someone or if he was about to break their neck. He appeared so intimidating and had so much energy and courage—Solomon could not possibly have chosen a better leader for them.

  Felina adored him. And Nicky loved her right back. He’d get frustrated and say something like, “I swayuh… deez freakin’ morons… sometimes Fel… che cavolo!” Felina, though exhausted from weeks of marching, still found enough energy to giggle and pat her husband’s trusted old friend on the back with her paw. One time she said, “Nicky… you are wonderful. Just a wonderful man. My husband was so wise to trust in you. We’d never survive alone. You know that don’t you?” Nicky sighed humbly and shook his head muttering, “God I love ya, Fel. I really couldn’t do diss without ya.” Then he looked over to Felina’s daughter who was cavorting about with some Spleef youngsters nearby. “And yuuu too, Stah Babee. Ti amo Bambino!” Then he gave out an uproarious laugh that echoed down the tunnel for several moments. “Star Baby” looked up at him with a delightful trusting smile and said it right back to him in adorable child-like Italian, “Tee-aah-mo Nicky!”

  She came over and hugged his huge legs for a moment while he gave out a big, “Aaaaahh, dat’s preshusss, ain’t it? Just preshusss.” But not even five minutes later, he was right back to cracking the whip, yelling at his tunnelers, encouraging those who were moving along briskly, and of course nagging those who were dawdling or piddling too much with, “Eh… let’s get a freakin’ move-on, ya Goombahs. Cum-on!” Felina just laughed. No wonder he’d lived so long, that Nicky. His heart was just too big to ever stop beating. Oh, he was a slave-driver no d
oubt. But only Nicky Ciancio could have made fifteen thousand demoralized, exhausted, and near-starving war refugees push themselves so hard.

  Without his hard driving leadership, Lord only knows how things might have turned out. Heck, they really didn’t even know whether it mattered any more. After all, what if Earth had already won the war? And how would they find out it, if that’s indeed what had happened? On the surface it was likely chaos, and on the other side of the planet’s interior it was likely nothing but death and fiery destruction. If they only knew about the miraculous victory and the success of Cuttlefish’s volcanic eruption! They just kept on tunneling and walking… tunneling some more and then walking several miles further. They’d rest for part of a day on occasion while tunnelers cleared a path for them—then they’d hop up a few hours later to do it all over again. Progressing slowly, they climbed higher and higher—moving steadily closer toward the surface where they would most assuredly face an unknown and dangerous future.

  Three long weeks passed since their departure from the cavern below. Then one day scouts came back to report to Nicky Ciancio that they’d broken into the Service Tunnel. “Holy cow!” exclaimed Nicky to the Spleef scouts reporting in. “You mean we finally made it? Wow… Grazie a Dio! And wuttuhbowt food wayuh-howzzuz… did ya find annee? Ya know, I got a lot of stah-vinn fohks down heuh!” The Spleefs informed him that they had indeed found the remnants of a food warehouse; but it had been demolished by Earth missiles. “Mi fa cagare!” he exclaimed in frustrated Italian. But nevertheless he thanked his loyal scouts and told them to get some rest… they’d be needing it.

  Nicky knew, now that they’d found the Service Tunnel, it was only a matter of locating food, without being detected by Earth patrols if there were any about. To that end he sent patrols out in both directions looking for a food warehouse still intact, while the rest of the ragged refugees marched into the partially lighted Service Tunnel to make camp and finally get some much-needed rest. The patrols searched far and wide, hoping to hit the jackpot; then “budda-bing budda-bang, just like that” (as Nicky might have said), within a week or so they indeed found a food warehouse (miles away) that had not been destroyed completely in Earth missile attacks. This discovery ended up yielding several days’ food rations for the now nearly starving refugees.

  However… one thing they never found… after another full week of scouting… was Earthmen. There were none to be seen. Anywhere.

  “Yuu mean ta tell me… dey all lefft? Jusss like dat… jusss up and freakin’ leffft?” asked Nicky with a joyous fire in his eyes. His tone was that of indignation; but the happiness revealing in his face was comparatively quite disarming. Yes, his scouts reported. They’d traveled for miles through the Service Tunnel and one unit even made it all the way back to the remains of the old Terminal Loading Bay. The Earthmen were gone. All of them. And the evidence of their hasty exit was quite apparent everywhere. Hospital pods (basically modular component buildings that had been transported to the surface and connected to form a vast medical complex) had been abandoned near troop transport landing sites; and inside some of them were found the telltale remnants of meatball surgery. Even some human body parts and organs were left behind that had been amputated or extracted during surgery. Burn units had even been established to quickly treat wounded who’d been carried up to the surface, too. It was a horrifying sight. And the smell of death and burnt flesh still lingered inside the massive abandoned medical complex which had beds for nearly a thousand patients, plus doctor’s quarters, nurse’s stations, bathrooms, showers, and triage centers. Yet it was all abandoned. No Earthmen… nowhere!

  So that was it… the miracle had indeed happened; and now Nicky Ciancio, his eyes wide with excitement and his chest swelling up with pride, was able to address all the refugees that very evening with the news. “Duh bastuhds aah gahn, fohks! Ouhl of ‘em!” he exclaimed to the crowd. They could all go up to the surface now. The war was over!

  Felina and her little daughter rejoiced with all the others. Her husband and all those gallant heroes below… they’d somehow pulled it off! Naustie refugees all around them celebrated joyously when the news was announced; and in a gesture of flamboyant generosity, extra food rations were given out as well. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief at the news. For all these weeks they’d been slogging it out day after day not knowing their fate; and for that matter, even now they weren’t completely sure! But when the word got around about what the Spleef scouts came back describing; the refugees began to accept that at the very least the most dangerous of their problems was gone. No one was trying to kill them anymore.

  The only remaining task now was to try and find the Naustie merchant fleet. That’s what Nicky told them. Those were his orders from Solomon, so he gave the command: Any volunteers wishing to participate in a scouting mission were to go with an armed escort of Spleef troops up to the surface. The journey would take several days, they were told. But they were to stay there and try to signal friendly ships until successful. The Naustie fleet would soon arrive, from outer space. Many were skeptical about going, but Felina didn’t hesitate. These had been her husband’s orders after all! So she and the adorably effervescent Star Baby quickly joined up with the platoon of Spleefs and also several brave female Pumalars to go explore the surface.

  Yes… many of the refugees were hesitant. After all; if they did go up onto the surface in that intense heat… wearing breather units to get air… they couldn’t last that long before having to take cover. If they went up at night; no one could see them, unless they built some kind of beacon that could withstand windstorms. And worse; what if they did go up to the surface; and a space craft landing there turned out to be an Earth army transport or medical evac unit coming back to pick up more Earther troops? Even a few of the female Pumalars riding with Felina posed the same question. However the Spleef scout leading her squad merely wiggled his nose and replied dryly, “Well, if they don’t try to kill us, then we’ll know they must be Nausties.” Felina chuckled. That may have been blunt but it was the right answer. They’d have to risk it if they were going to be rescued. And they’d have to go up during the day, no matter how hot it was—that was a given.

  Riding in the back of stinky dump haulers once used by Spleefs to haul dung, they took off for the Terminal Loading Bay. They sped along the smoothed out highway of the Service Tunnel, dodging debris and destroyed vehicles as they cruised along; slowed only by patches of pitch darkness that they had to light their way through using headlamps. Not only that, but occasionally they’d travel through a massive crater created by a missile attack, and this exposed them to the brutal Rijel sun or freezing cold night air. When they came across these areas, they had to zig zag around or through rubble-strewn surfaces. This slowed them down to a crawl at times, making the journey all the more arduous.

  The planet had been devastated, no doubt about that. Basically there was little left in the way of infrastructure. The power plant had been obliterated, there was no electrical system powering oxygen production systems; and there was no artificial lighting except for emergency lights powered by independent solar-powered battery panels connected to them from the surface. These ingenious systems had been installed years before to give the Service Tunnel constant lighting around the globe; and a recharging station for electric vehicles. And though many had been destroyed in the bombing, there were still thousands of them operating. It gave the refugees and their scouts at least a little bit of lighting to see their way through the unexposed parts of the tunnel while they traveled toward the old Terminal Loading Bay.

  During the journey over the next few days, the Pumalars and their Spleef scouts had a chance to plan what they’d do next when they got there. The Spleefs were pretty adamant about it too: The only solution to being detected by the Naustie fleet if it indeed was waiting up there in orbit was to climb up through the wreckage of the facility and try to hail any friendly craft that might be waiting outside. Spleef scouts had seen no Naustie shi
ps when they’d explored the abandoned Earth landing site several days before, but Nicky Ciancio had assured everyone that the Naustie merchant fleet had strict orders to come; once they knew the battle had finished. The problem was, no one had any idea what kind of signal to send from the surface to try and get the fleet’s attention!

  In a few days, they all finally reached the Terminal Loading Bay. And that’s when they saw the horrible scene everyone had been talking about. The stories that Spleef scouts had told about the carnage and destruction were quite accurate indeed; but it was even more incredible seeing it all in person. It was like a scene from some tortured dream about hell; where a guilty mind imagines being sent to suffer eternal damnation for their sins. There was death everywhere and the smell of death. There were noxious fumes one could smell that came from the gradually cooling lava and debris expelled from the bowels of the planet. Bombed-out buildings on the surface were splayed open like giant carcasses of enormous dead animals which had been picked clean by carrion birds. Felina kept her little daughter Star Baby out of the sun too; far from its rays. The Spleefs warned her, there were things a little girl probably shouldn’t see out there, anyway. Felina soon found out just what they meant! That’s why she had one of the other Pumalars watch Star Baby for her, while she toured the abandoned Earther campsite with a small band of Spleef scouts.

  After exploring the scene of devastation and death for several hours in the late afternoon sunlight; Felina (covering herself in a hooded robe made out of a tarpaulin that Spleef scouts had cut out for her) finally began to succumb to the Rijel sun as her huge, cat-like feet were beginning to burn on the scorching sand. She had ten Spleefs with her—all of which she towered over by about two feet—and they were not doing much better either in the incredible surface heat. So they all decided to bolt for shade where they could meet and devise a plan for signaling any friendly space craft after the sun set.