These Flaring Embers
Spark!
Adelaide squeaked ... turning her head as the sparks flew. As the smoke stung. She rolled out of her chair, hitting the floor. Keeping low. But the floor was shaking. The whole ship was quaking.
The pule of the laser turrets. Steady. Holding ... thrum-thrum-thrum!
Blast!
"Twenty degrees starboard!"
Who was speaking? Who was shouting?
The bridge was dark, and the light ... it was red. It was bleeding. The light was bleeding. As was the body of the Captain on the floor. Among the rubble and the fumes. Wren wore a ruby gash down his cheek ... reaching to his neck. And was dripping blood to the floor. And wasn't moving. And ...
Thrum-thrum-thrum!
Spark! Spark!
A shriek! And a squeak ...
Coughing.
The ship tilted, and ... Adelaide slid into the wall. Hitting it with an "oomph" ... shaken. Dizzy. Feeling liable to get sick. Already sick. And getting sicker at the snap she felt. The snap she heard. A broken bone.
Field's mind ... in a panic, Field's mind ... was scurrying into hers, and his panic was so fierce. She was trying to calm him down. Flying back to him ... via their telepathic link. Via their spiritual bond. Via ...
" ... incoming!"
Shake! The emergency lights ... flicker! Flicker!
What was going on? When would it end? Who was doing this?
What ... what ...
" ... what the hell did they want?" Rella shouted. "Who were they?" She was visibly angry. Her cheek cut. Her uniform tattered. Squirrel tail, normally bushy and arched and proud, so silky and soft ... littered with bulkhead debris. Matted from plasma leaks. She looked a mess.
"I ... I don't know," Field stammered.
She glared at him. "Field ... "
"I don't know!" he shouted. Visibly trembling. His paws were trembling. He needed water. Oh, he needed water ... he fumbled for an emergency rations kit. Taking out a water pack. Tearing it open with his mousey teeth. And the water dribbled from his lips, down his chin. Drops hitting the floor. He swallowed, gulped, and ... simply dropped the empty water packet on the floor of the conference room.
Rella swallowed, leaning forward, as if about to pass out. Supporting herself by putting paws, pads down, on the table-top. She breathed. Breathed ...
"Are you ... okay?" Field asked.
"My mate's ... got a concussion. He's in sickbay, but main power is down, and ... no. No! No, I am not okay!" she shouted, taken aback at how violent she sounded. Seeing Field shirk back, eyes watering. Seeing his whiskers and nose sniff-twitching. Ears swiveling. Seeing him clutch at his tail. Rella sighed. "Field ... "
He looked to her. A darting look.
"Field," she said again.
"What," he whispered. The conference room was very dim. They were totally in shadow.
"You're the first officer. You're in command. I mean, I ... I'm gonna be brutally honest here, while ... my emotions are high, anyway, so I'm gonna run with the theme and tell you: you aren't cut for it. You aren't good enough. I should be in that spot. I should be running this ... in Wren's absence, it should be me. You're falling to pieces." And despite any truth in the words, she regretted them as soon as they left her muzzle.
"You can't stop yelling at me," was all he said.
"I ... am frustrated."
"And I'm not?" There was a bite in his voice. "My mate's in sickbay, too. You think I'm not?"
"I'm sorry," she whispered, and she took a shaky breath. "But this isn't about ... our mates. This isn't ... this has to be about the ship. The crew. The mission. Alright?" She shook. Her worst fears coming to fruition: their love was ... clouding their judgment. Was preventing them from leading. Preventing them from being efficient. Here, in space, crippled, time was of the essence. They couldn't be paralyzed by their worry or their fear or their ...
Field closed his eyes. Oh, his head hurt! Oh, he had such a headache. He wanted to throw up ...
"Field ... alright? We gotta run this thing. We'll do it together."
"You can take it. You can ... be first officer. I don't care," he whispered.
She hesitated. Wanted to do as he said, but ... " ... Wren trusted you ... to do this. I can't break the chain of command."
"Screw the ... " Field caught himself before he went on a rant. Reigned himself in. "I don't care! You're right. You said it. You be in charge."
"I can't do that. That's not how it works."
"Then why complain about it? Why tell me how incompetent I am ... if you didn't want to be in charge?"
"Cause I'm venting, Field! I'm ... " She slammed a paw down on the table-top. Wincing. "I'm ... I'm venting," she said, voice dropping to a whisper. "This is not ... a ship of ... I won't turn this into anarchy by deciding I'm the best leader around, and ... taking control. There's a chain of command."
Field nodded quietly, breathing. His mind fishing out for his mate, but ... she was in surgery. For a broken wing. She was unconscious. And, in her unconsciousness, blocking him from entering her mind ... knowing he wished to channel part of her pain into him. Ease hers. But ... not letting him do so. Their minds in quiet friction. He wished for her ... back. Healthy. Wished for her. Prayed for her. For her touch. For her little kisses. For her winged embrace. For ...
Rella cleared her throat. Her eyes stung. They burned. From the smoke and the haze of the attack, which had ended ... half an hour ago. Leaving Luminous limping into a purple-pink nebula. Where enemy sensors couldn't pinpoint them. But those ships could very well be lurking outside the perimeter. Waiting for Luminous to emerge.
Field, calming (but not inside ... inside, his mousey mind, his prey instinct ... was in panic mode), said, "I ... I think they may have been pirates. Did you see how they ... tried to latch onto our cargo bay? The shuttle bay, too? They ... scanned our holds. I ... I think they were pirates. We passed through their 'territory,' and ... they attacked. I think we destroyed one of their ships. I saw one of them ... tumbling end over end before ... before the view-screen stopped working." The screen had exploded, knocking out the helm offer. A skunk.
The squirrel nodded quietly. "That sounds right, I think. I mean, that's ... probably the best bet on what," she said, coughing, "happened. I don't know. I just ... I don't know."
Field's whiskers twitched. Eyes watering. "Um ... um, I ... we should do a crew count."
"I already told Ketchy to start one. I mean, we have ... I know there are several injuries. A few of them," she said, choking up, "um ... a few of them are serious, but ... I don't think anyone's dead," she said, "yet." She hesitated to say it, feeling as she did, but, "We're blessed ... it could've been worse."
Worse. The word seemed to echo. Like a pale din from a tolling bell.
"If we can get our engines working, we just need to leave the nebula, and then gun our engines. Those ships were smaller. I think they might be slower. We just need to get out of their territory, then, and ... I think we'll be okay."
Field nodded. Grooming his whiskers. Unconsciously. Licking the pads of his paws, and tilting his head, grooming his whiskers.
"Field ... "
The mouse stopped. Twitching. "Yeah ... yeah," he said, nodding. Eyes pale. Grey-blue eyes seemingly more pale than they normally were. As if haunted. As if so badly shaken. "Yes, I, uh ... I think that's right."
"I'm sorry," Rella apologized. "About what I said. Just a minute ago ... "
"Whatever. Um ... " The mouse still looked in a daze. "Um ... "
"Field, don't go schizophrenic on me. Please," Rella asked. Feminine vulnerability leaking through. How she wished for Wren. He would've been strong. Would've pretended, anyway. Field, wispy as he was, couldn't even pretend. Not in a situation like this. "Stabilize, okay? We have to get of here. With all the hull breaches we have, the nebula will leak through affected areas. Will short out systems. We need to get engines online, limp out of here, gun them ... and ... once we're away from the pirates, we'll find a planet or a base to ... repair. To ... you know? We have to do this now. Okay?"
"Yeah. I know. You told me."
"Well, I'm not in charge. You have to give the orders. You have to help me coordinate this. I'm still the chief tactical officer, and I need to work on the weapons. And the targeting sensors. You're gonna have to manage the rest. Engines. Work out a plan."
Field met her eyes. They locked.
She looked back. His eyes were soft. She understood why Adelaide liked him. He was ... gentle. He wouldn't hurt anything. He was gentle and caring and ... he looked at you with such a wide-eyed innocence. You couldn't help but wanna cradle him.
Field blinked, looking away. "Um ... alright. Let's scurry to it."
She smiled slightly at his words. "Okay ... " She nodded. Lingered. And turned and left the conference room.
Leaving the mouse alone in there. Breathing. Breathing. Staring at the mess.
The bat was unconscious, but she felt the broken wing. Even in her fevered dreams ...
She was with Field.
They were ...
" ... oh ... mm ... "
... in a bed. Making soft, little sounds. Muzzles pressing, pushing together, so hungry. So hungry. Clothes on the ground. They were loving each other (as they loved to do), and she was straddling him (knowing he preferred to be submissive). Was rising up, falling down ... rising up, lowering. Was leaned over him, and breaking the wet, saliva-strung kisses, she would sit back up ... and gaze down at him.
His chest would rise and fall. Rise and fall. Paws pawing (cutely) at her breasts. Clutching at her fur. He would be staring (so lovingly) up at her.
She would lean down to kiss him again ... to wet his fur with her tongue. Suckling on his cheek. His neck.
He would squeak ... would squeak ...
The pleasure. The sharp, physical pleasure, the instinctual need of this. Of coming together like this. Her body and his. Fur-to-fur. Motion, motion ... bucking, bucking. Sweet, sweet ...
... fucking faster.
She would spread her wings as she reached her peak ...
"Uh ... oh, oh!"
"D-darling ... "
"Oh, I ... oh ... "
Their voices ... who was saying what? Who was feeling what?
Their minds were merging. Their minds were one.
The pleasure, as it simmered, as it begun ...
... snap!
Her wing broke at climax. And she felt a searing, unbelievable pain. Like burning. Stomach churning. Eyes watered, she tilted her head to see ... wasps stinging her wing. Dozens of wasps.
And they descended on Field, too. And he was afraid of wasps. One of his greatest fears was wasps, and they were eating him alive, and ...
... on the bridge, Field shuddered. Feeling a mental cry of pain coming from sickbay. He was still on the bridge, but ... he felt everything she felt. Every emotion. He only wished he could take away her pain. Could reach her through the haze. Could reawaken her, tell her that ...
" ... you're okay, right?"
Field blinked.
Ketchy, disheveled, stood in front of him. "Field?"
"It's ... yeah, I'm just tired." He was. Terribly. And he could also feel the fear and pain of every crew-fur on this ship. He couldn't shut it out. It flowed into his mind. But most of all ... her pain was there. Adelaide's. And he felt so helpless.
"We all are."
"I know that," he said tersely. And it didn't help that, ship-time, it was 1 AM. They should've been in bed right now. The night shift should've been running things. Should've been the skeleton crew. "Tell engineering to work faster."
"I told them that. Twice." She wasn't about to tell them again. She didn't need to get on Juneau's bad side.
"Tell them again."
"Field," said Ketchy, straining her voice ... as if about to snap on him. About to let loose. But she bit her tongue. "Alright. I'll, uh, tell them that ... you know, we're in a dire situation, and they need to stop drinking their coffee and, uh, get to work."
"Your sarcasm is noted, lieutenant."
She looked to him. He'd never called her by rank. But, then, they hadn't really spoken since Pelios Station. When she had told him he was weak ... that he was awkward. When she had growled those mean things at him.
"Um ... where's Rella?" he asked, looking around. Sniffing the air for her.
"In the armory."
"Oh."
"She'll be back in ten minutes, she said ... um ... that was actually fifteen minutes ago, but none of the lifts are working. We have to use the tubes."
He nodded. He knew.
"Field," said Ketchy.
The sounds of sparks and welding tools and scanners ... permeated the dimness of the bridge. Behind them, two skunks were working on the viewer. Trying to restore it.
"Field, I'm sorry ... about ... those things I said. I never told you. I was meaning to, but it was ... every time I wanted to, I felt uncomfortable, and ... but I'm sorry, okay?"
"I forgave you ... the moment you said them," was all the mouse replied. Voice soft. Quiet. Brittle.
She didn't know what to say to that. Only, "Um ... well, I'll go back to my station. I need to coordinate the repair efforts."
"Alright."
She slowly went away. Worried for him. He was barely holding himself together. She could see his silent, fervent prayers ... the ones being woven and air-mailed by his mind. But he was losing it.
"Bloody Hell!" Rella shouted. Dodging sparks. "Someone warn me next time, huh?" Her voice rattled off the bulkheads.
"I can't predict EPS overloads!" Azure shouted back. "I'm a botanist ... "
"Well ... then ... look, just ... " Rella sighed, craning her neck to the ceiling. Closing eyes. Breathe. Breathe, she instructed herself. "Just make sure the torpedo tubes are operating on primary power. Make sure they aren't clogged. Just check the read-outs. Tell me what it says ... on that screen. That one." She looked to her fellow squirrel.
"It's not working."
"No, the other screen ... "
Azure read the information he saw.
Rella nodded. Sighing. "Okay. Good. We got torpedoes."
"Have," Azure emphasized. "Have torpedoes. Not 'got'."
Rella glared at him. Eyes widening. She was NOT in the mood.
Azure shut up.
Rella tapped at some controls. Some of them made fizzle-fizzle sounds (rather than the normal, melodic beeps and bops) ... as if they weren't working. As if nothing was working. Which, at the moment, wouldn't surprise her.
How many ships had swarmed on them? Five? Six? Like wasps, they had come, and just ... she didn't want to think about it. And it was ironic, in a way. She had expected (as they all had) that their first major attack would come from the shadow furs. There had been rumors of the shadow furs. Even the other day, Field, in a moment of eeriness, had told Rella in the lift that "I feel they're watching us" ...
Rella had squinted. "What do you mean?"
"They know where we are. They're watching us."
She had pressed him for more. How did he know this? How advanced had the mouse's mental abilities become?
But the mouse had gone quiet and said it was "just a feeling," and it was best not to "work ourselves up over it." Funny, that. Coming from a mouse.
But ... since the encounter with the future human ship and ... since then, no sign of the shadow furs.
No, this attack ... was pirates. Plain and simple pirates. How vulgar. It ticked her off. If they were gonna be battered and badgered, couldn't someone of importance do it? Someone of substance? Pirates? Who grew up wanting to be a pirate? How did that ever help anybody? How did ...
"Rella ... "
"Yeah?"
"My eyes are gonna fall out."
Rella barked out a laugh. Chuckling. "Yeah?" She turned to look at Azure. "Yeah, cause ... that would be something to see. I mean, I think that would put me over the edge, but ... "
"Well ... "
"Your tone, Azure. You just ... sound so relieved at the prospect of your eyes falling out."
"Well, I'm tired. They hurt."
"Just ... " She giggled. It was a tense giggle. A release of stress. But a giggle, nonetheless. "Just shut your muzzle, Azure." A sigh. "I'm going back to the bridge. You can run the armory."
"I know nothing about weapons," he protested.
"They're just like plants ... "
"What?" He frowned.
"Well ... they aren't, but ... pretend that they are." She pried open the door, slipping into the corridor.
Azure frowned, looking around.
Kody ran the scanner over Wren's inert form. Feeling a pang of ... guilt? Sadness? Worry? The rabbit didn't know. Kodiak wasn't one for such (or much) sympathy. Amazing that he was a doctor. More amazing still ... that he was the only one keeping his cool around here. But, then, back at school, he'd endured personal traumas greater than any pirate attack. And Wren had been there for most of them. Bailing him out. And, sometimes, getting drawn into them. And where Kody was bitter and cynical, Wren was ... valiant. And the rabbit was envious of him. Of him and his drive. Of him and his mate.
The rabbit was jealous of many of the crew.
Kody sighed. Mind spinning. The rabbit passed his time with yiff. Holographic yiff. Pawing. Yiff. And ... yiff and argumentative debate. Be it about religion or politics, the rabbit loved to tear furs apart with his words. Loved to make them doubt. Loved to prove them wrong ...
He wasn't well. He wasn't right.
And, for a moment, he wished he was the one with the concussion. It would be better for him. For all of them. This crew didn't know the kind of darkness the rabbit harbored. Didn't know just how eccentric he was.
Wren knew. But told no one. Never let on.
And why?
Why had the squirrel given him this chance? This posting?
Kody put a shot into the squirrel's neck. The Captain would live. Wouldn't wake for another day, and would be sore for a week, but ... he would live.
And so would Adelaide. So would the bat.
No one dead ... this time.
"Alright," Rella said, voice heavy. It was past 2 AM. "Um ... " She closed her eyes, feeling liable to collapse. "Um ... engines are ready. We're ready to do this."
"Okay," Field whispered, sounding like glass.
The bridge was looking just a tad bit better than before. Repair crews had hauled away the biggest bits of debris. They would definitely need to settle in somewhere for repairs once they got out of this. Some furry station or outpost somewhere. Hopefully, somewhere close.
Field looked to the helm. Which was being run by a fellow mouse.
"Chester," Field said.
"Yeah?" The other mouse (his fur a white color with black spots, unlike Field's honey-tan).
"Nose us out of the nebula. Point us on a course out of here. When we're free ... full-speed ahead."
The other mouse, whiskers twitching, nodded, turning his attention back to his controls.
Rella gave a slight frown, wishing that someone other than a mouse was at the help. A skunk. A squirrel. A rabbit. Anything ... she loved mice. They were dear things, but ... they shouldn't be in such positions during emergencies. Their fear, their doubt, their ...
"He'll be fine," Field defended. "He's a good pilot." Totally loyal to his species. To any mouse.
Rella nodded. "Alright," she said. And she filtered to tactical. They would probably need to get a few shots off ... before they made it to faster-than-light speed.
Field moved to the Captain's chair. He didn't want to sit in it. Felt like maybe it would brand him. Or make this situation all the more real (and it was real enough for his tastes), but his knees were shaking, and he needed to sit. So, he did. Sighing. Shaking. And he nibbled on the short, blunt claws on his paws.
They were waiting for his order.
He cleared his throat. He took a breath. Said, "Take us out ... "
Chester, at helm, just nodded and ... gave a bit of a squeak.
Rella's eyes darted from one mouse to the other. One mouse in command. The other piloting the ship. Two mice in charge of this outcome. It made her nervous. Her prey heart pat-pattered, and chittering from the throat, she focused on the weapons. Making sure they were up-and-ready. Making sure ... making sure she didn't think of Wren. Of his touches, his caresses ...
Of his sweet, furry stomach pressed to hers as his arms wrapped round, and ... his strength. His need. His ...
She tried not to think of it. Tried not to worry about him. But she did. She was a squirrel. She was prey. And she did.
Luminous slid toward the edge of the nebula, the wispy, colored space-clouds parting for the furry vessel. As if bowing to it. Bestowing it honor (for still being intact).
"Sensors should be coming online any second," said Ketchy. From comm.
"Tell me where they are," Field said quietly. "Tell me how many of them ... there are."
Little beeps and faltering buzzes from the computer.
"Ketchy?"
"Five ships. A few hundred thousand miles off. They've seen us." She paused. Looked up. "They're coming back."
Field's breath was shaky as he let it out. He wanted to stand from his chair. Pace about. Like Wren would do. Wren couldn't sit still during a time like this. He was always so antsy. But Field ... was too shaky to stand. He simply, submissively sitting in his chair (Rella could've sworn that, as effeminate as he sometimes showed himself to be, that ... the mouse could've, at one time, been gay ... but that wasn't something you asked a fur; and, were it true, she doubted Field would admit it) ...
Field, leaning forward slightly, arms and paws clutching the arm-rests, told Chester to, "Warp us out ... now."
Chester's nervous paws flew over the controls.
Field waited.
"Fifty thousand miles."
Rella waited.
"Twenty-five thousand."
"Chester," said Rella.
"I'm ... it's sluggish to respond. It's ... "
"They're almost on top of us!"
And the ship suddenly lurched, suddenly jerked. Not from weapons fire, but from ... the engines kicking in (finally). And jolting them forward, slow, slow, fast, faster ... and vaulting them into warp speed. Past the pirates. Past the nebula. Past this system.
Out into the deeper depths of space.
Field sighed and sank in his chair. Flooded with relief.
Rella smiled.
The rest of the bridge crew clapped their paws, smiling happily ... for they had made it out. Made it away. They would live to see another day.
Field, smiling shyly, turned and met Rella's gaze. She bit her lip and smiled back at him. Nodding to him. They held their gazes for a moment before breaking them. They still had a lot to do.
A day later, Luminous was nearing a furry outpost on an ice world. Run by snow rabbits. The snow rabbits had received Luminous' call of distress, and had agreed to prove a docking port. And repairs. It would take a week to get the ship back into shape, but ... it would also give the crew time to rest. To heal. And they needed it.
Field, in sickbay, held to his mate's paw. She lay on the bio-bed, weak-eyed. Her wing healing. With power back online, the doctor had been able to fix it.
"You okay?" she asked of him.
"I was ... gonna ask you," he whispered, "the same thing."
Her smile was pink and flushing. Was warm and sweet. Like an ember as it flared. As it grew brighter. That's what she did. Stirred the embers of the mouse's heart. "I'll live," was the bat's eventual reply. She would be up and about in two days.
He beamed at this. "I think I will, too."
On the other side of sickbay, Rella stroked Wren's cheeks. His forehead. He was healing, too, but was sleeping right now. And she didn't wish to wake him. But she couldn't wait to have him back. To have him up and about. To have him in her arms.
Doctor Kody watched all the love-crazed furs. Feeling, again, a pang of jealousy. But, hey, they were headed for a colony of snow rabbits. He was a rabbit. He wasn't a snow rabbit, but his fur was white. Maybe he could ... work his way through a few ... he grinned to himself. Looking forward to this little shore leave.
Field, sensing the doctor's cruder thoughts, turned and glared at him. The rabbit was in his office.
Kody waved his paw cheekily back at Field.
Field frowned and looked away from him. And back to Adelaide.
And Luminous, at half-speed, soared to the snowy, chilly outpost ...