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Flames at Morning

Who is the Emperor?

The one who sits upon the throne in Regulus? Aye, but the Lupiads and the Sirians might disagree.

The latest in an unbroken dynastic line? Nay, for then we wouldn't have had Emperor Litho the First, a mere General who proclaimed himself as Emperor.

The Emperor is not one person either. The Lupiad-Sirians have two at a time.

In truth, an Emperor is anyone who proudly and unashamedly proclaims himself to be one.

With this in mind, even I can confidently proclaim, “I am the Emperor."

-An excerpt from “I am the Emperor," by Regulian satirist Asher the Sandfly.

It was far too early in the morning when I caught a boot in the ribs.

“They're here," Yaleen whispered, staring down at me across the length of her slender muzzle, which I could only see thanks to the cream underside of it being just bright enough to pierce the darkness.

Her bushy tail swished, it's white tip slapping me across the face as she kicked Dondrae awake as well. Dondrae awoke with a jolt, he had been barking and kicking in his sleep while he was snuggling against me, which had made it difficult to sleep.

“Headlights," she muttered, grabbing one of the many orbs she had taken from Jack and slapping it in the canister tied around her hip.

I cursed as I rolled onto my side and pushed myself to my feet. Loading up the Mosin Nagant rifle that I had finally taken back from Yaleen now that she had found something better, I followed the wagging, white tip of her tail, for it was pretty much the only thing I could see in the shadows of the second floor of the bar.

My knee collided with the corner of a table and I grunted with pain, kicking the leg of it in frustration before stumbling over to the window that Yaleen was leaning out of, moonlight shimmering across the fine, red fur surrounding her emerald eyes. She lifted a pair of binoculars to her eyes and scanned the horizon. We had knocked out the crystal glass panes covering the windows of the top floor to make our job easier.

I put the scope of the rifle to my eye and looked out, seeing nothing but darkness. I lifted my head from the scope, looking blindly off into the night, seeing the faintest glare of headlights. I darted back and forth from the scope, trying to pinpoint the target.

“Kurwa!" Yaleen cursed, slapping her palm across my head. “Give the rifle to the mutt! Your eyes are useless!"

“Fuck off! I've almost got them," I peered through the scope again, catching the glimmer of the headlights. It was a truck, similar to the one Jack had. The insides of it were pitch black and I couldn't tell how many people were in it. A shadow danced across the headlight and I made out the outline of a tail flicking, along with a rifle cradled in its arms. Pausing, I pulled back from the rifle, mouth hanging out. “Did you just say kurwa?"

“Yes."

“Do you even know what that means?"

“No."

Dondrae lumbered up to the window beside us, bracing the barrel of his assault rifle on the windowsill for support as he groggily appraised the situation.

“It's dark," he muttered.

“See?" I shot back at Yaleen.

“Vulpeculans have better eyesight than Lupiads..."

Dondrae lazily tapped the tip of his large, black nose, “We've got better noses."

“The better to smell your asses with."

“Ha! Vulpy noses are thin enough that they'd slip right inside an asshole!"

“Kurwa!" I hissed. “You both look like ass-sniffers! Now shut up unless your noses have something useful to say!"

They were getting closer but still far too distant to get a clear look, let alone a shot. I really wished I had bought those night-vision goggles that one dealer in Haven was selling awhile back, only met him once but those things were beauties. Of course, if I was wearing one of those, there was no way in hell I could discern the eye color of someone, not that it was much easier without them.

Light flashed off in the distance as flames erupted from the ground, shooting through the wheel and engine of the nearest truck. The alien marching in front of the truck jumped to the side and I saw that he had a tail as vivid red as the flames themselves. A black eye-patch was wrapped around the right side of his face and I couldn't get a look at the left.

“Kurwa!" Yaleen shrieked, which would have given us away in a second if the mercs weren't busy dealing with a roaring flame smothering the truck's engine. “It's him! It's him!"

“The one with the eye-patch?"

“That little sand-pounder! He just had to lose a kurwa-ing eye!" her snout was curled up in a snarl, so I refrained from correcting her improper use of Polish curses. She slammed the binoculars against Dondrae's chest, giving him a quick bark to order him to locate the target.

I looked over at Yaleen and noticed that a tiny, round vial filled with some liquid was pinched between her fingers. She shook it at me, her green eyes filled with intensity, “If anything happens to him, if he gets hurt bad, get the eye and bring it to me."

“Your concern for your brother is touching."

“I care for my brother!" Yaleen's throat made a strange snapping noise. “But I also care for my rightful inheritance and if I can't have both, I'll have that at least!"

Dondrae butted in, “I think his tails on fire."

I took a peek down the scope and sure enough, Aldor was slapping at a tiny flame that was barely visible against his flame-red fur.

“He'll get over it!" Yaleen grumbled. “I tested those fire-balls before I buried them. Even if a Vulpeculan is wearing full body-armor and carrying a machine-gun, it wouldn't be enough to set them off. It'll disable the trucks but otherwise, they're safe to walk over."

Another lance of flames shot up from the ground, further up from the grounded truck. A hulking figure ran into the field, screaming in agony as flames wrapped around him like a blanket. Two loud pops rang out as his grenades exploded, before he collapsed onto the ground in a pile of charred flesh and bone.

“Of course, it's not Equuleian-safe..." Yaleen said.

The gang grew antsy and I caught sight of a muzzle flare.

“Down!" I hissed, ducking below the window just before all hell broke loose.

Blind gunfire roared out and for a moment, I was afraid that they had caught sight of my scope's flicker. I held my breath and kept calm, waiting for them to simmer down. I hadn't heard a single bullet hit the wall of the tavern, which meant they were either terrible shots or they were firing at ghosts.

Silence overcome the noise and I carefully lifted my head, peering over the windowsill. Only the truck was still alight and they were slowly edging the second truck past the wreckage, following in what looked like the path the Equuleian had walked and stopping just before the crater where the fire-ball was buried. I raised the scope and saw Aldor kneeling over the crater, pointing at it and saying something to his companions. He reached down, pulling out a ball wrinkled with black char.

“Looks like they've figured it out," I whispered.

“My brother isn't stupid," Yaleen muttered in reply, “contrary to what some of his actions might suggest, such as joining the Imperial Army."

“Think they'll pull back?" Dondrae asked.

“If they've got any sense they would," I replied.

Another huge Equuleian lumbered out of the remaining truck. He fiddled around in the back of the truck before stepping back out, carrying a massive crate that was as brown as him. Whatever was stuffed in it was heavy, for even the strong horse-like alien was struggling to step forward, his hooves sinking deep into the ground. After taking his place just behind the crater where Aldor had once stood, he lifted the crate above his head and heaved it forward. A loud, echoing thud rang out across the field as the crate slammed into the ground in front of the hole. The Equuleian then stepped forward, picked up the crate and threw it once again, a few inches forward. He then proceeded to repeat this over and over.

“This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen," I rubbed at my temple.

The truck rumbled forward a few inches, tail-gating the Equuleian as he advanced at a snail's pace. The rest of the crew hugged the truck, rifles at the ready.

“The most infuriating part?" Yaleen rolled her eyes at me. “There's no more fire-balls in their path."

I just about fell asleep watching this hypnotic ritual when a sharp hiss from behind startled me and I swung around, only refraining from raising my gun when I saw it was Dondrae who was the source of the noise while he was playing around with some MRE packages. Yaleen stared at him with irritation and I was a little angry as well.

“What?" Dondrae shrugged, pointing at the package, which was swelling up gradually. “It's flameless and quiet."

“We should keep an eye on them."

Dondrae motioned towards the window with his muzzle, “They're gonna be at that for awhile. Good time to eat breakfast if ya ask me."

“Still-"

“It's rakh-steak and eggs," Dondrae tapped the black, plastic package with a claw. A thin bit of steam was escaping from the MRE as it heated up, “my favorite."

I sighed, “It's my favorite too."

Yaleen reluctantly nodded but didn't keep her eyes off the approaching mercs. Even when Dondrae ripped open the package and passed spoons around, her attention was stuck on the gradually approaching danger.

A wet nose rubbed against my cheek as Dondrae collapsed next to me, resting his head on my shoulder. He gave me the meal for holding and I scooped a pile of rakh and scrambled eggs into my mouth. It was very salty, as was common with Regulian food, but also had deep, savory flavors that warmed the stomach and made it more palatable. It had the texture of chicken but with the heartiness of beef.

Yaleen snatched a bottle of Tabasco from the remains on the ground, opening it up and daintily sniffing at it with her small, black nose, before sprinkling a few drops into the pile of meat in her spoon and eating it, nodding with approval. It was strange to see Earth products in alien military rations, but it seems that certain things break galactic boundaries.

“What the hell is rakh, anyway?" I asked, leaning out the window to keep track of their progress. They were getting closer, but only slightly.

“It's a big, fat, four-legged lizard from Regulus Prime," Yaleen answered.

I snorted, “No wonder they hate the Lacertans so much. They look like food to them."

The merc's crate-dance had drawn them closer, though they still had a long way to go. I was confident that I could shoot them with the Nagant from this distance.

As if sensing my thoughts, Dondrae spoke out, maw full of chewed-up meat, “Think we can take em now? They're sitting ducks."

“If we didn't need my brother alive, I would say so," Yaleen snatched the last scoop of food from the package and tossed it in her mouth, which she chewed in a very un-elegant way, looking very much like a fox who had just ripped a chunk of meat from a rabbit. “But we do, so we need to wait for them to get to the town."

They had numbers on their side as well. It looked like there was eight of them down there and that was more than enough to ruin our day. Only the Nagant was safe to use at this distance. Dondrae's rifle might have worked safetly in semi-automatic mode, but Yaleen's needler was too short-ranged and the flamethrower would cause collateral damage.

The sky had begun to brighten as the sun rose behind the crystalline mountains of Quartz. The black curtains were still in place, so the town was still cast in dark shadows, but if they took any longer, it would compromise our position.

Three pairs of headlights appeared on the horizon and new trucks began rumbling towards the bandits. A chill silence filled the room as we all took this in. Each truck could have four or five new threats and we were pushing it already. If they were as heavily armed as the vanguard, we were in deep trouble.

As the new trucks came closer into view, I began to see some hope. Unlike the other ones, these trucks were ramshackle with panels hanging loosely from the frame and one of them had an exhaust that pinged and popped like an assault rifle. One of the trucks had a flatbed and a Lupiad was hanging from it, aiming a rusted hunting rifle towards the bandits.

The Equuleian stopped throwing the crate and turned back towards the new trucks, pulling a rifle from his shoulder and firing, with the rest of the mercs following suit. Whoever these people were, they weren't their friends.

“Kurwa!" Yaleen snapped. “It must be that little shit from the bar, Jack!"

“Great!" I said.

“As long as he told them not to shoot my brother," Yaleen chewed at the tips of her claws. “Remember, make sure his eye survives!"

The bandits panicked, with the Equuleian and a white Lupiad piling into the truck. Another Lupiad grabbed onto a bar hanging on the side of the vehicle, clinging onto the side for dear life as the truck kicked up dirt and did a sharp turn to the right, speeding away from both the town and their new foes. Aldor, two lion-like Regulians, and a white-furred Vulpeculan with a pistol mounted onto a mechanical hand were left behind, shouting at their fleeing comrades.

Yaleen calmly uttered one word, “Boom."

A geyser of flames burst from the ground, engulfing the front-left tires and the Lupiad hanging from the side of the truck, who fell onto the ground, rolling in an attempt to douse the flames. The white Lupiad jumped out and gave his burning friend a mercy shot with his rifle, before he rejoined Aldor's group along with the others, all seeming to have been forgiven.

Crouching over for cover, they scrambled towards the town, dodging bullets and each one of them making sure to give a wide berth away from the Equuleian in case he burst into flames.

“Time to move," Yaleen ducked and stepped over to the other side of the room, by a window that provided a vantage point of both the houses across the way and the black curtain on the far side of the town. Dondrae followed, hunkering down by the neighboring window.

One of the Regulians dropped to the floor, red mist bursting from his shoulder. His friends left him behind, pouring into the town square. When they vanished, I slid across the room and took cover by the third and last window on the other side. I caught sight of Aldor, the metal-armed Vulpy, and the last Regulian slip behind my Hauler. I trained the crosshairs of my scope on the tip of the Regulian's head, which poked above their cover and hesitated for a second.

Sorry buddy.

He jerked his head at the last minute before I pulled the trigger and my shot only caught the side of his ear. The two Vulpies panicked, opening fire at us blindly from their cover. I pulled back, hiding behind the window, catching Dondrae steadily unleashing a volley of automatic gunfire at the remaining, uncovered bandits. Scared and confused, the white Lupiad took command and ordered the Equuleian to follow him into the house across the street. The Vulpies were about to scatter when Dondrae turned his gunfire on their cover, pinning them down.

As soon as the Lupiad and the Equuleian poured into the house, Yaleen took aim with the nozzle of the flamethrower. A lance of flames shot out, arcing across the town before coming into contact with the walls of the house, sticking to it like napalm. I didn't have much time to admire it, as the entire building exploded a few seconds later, spraying chunks of wood and crystal glass everywhere. A thick piece of glass shot into the door of my Hauler and I peeked down to see it had almost hit the white Vulpy in the face, but he had ducked just in time.

They were all well protected now. We couldn't get a clear shot at any of them without the risk of hitting Aldor. We kept up the subterfuge, bullets from my Nagant thumping into the ground and Yaleen's needler launching bolts that grazed the body of the Hauler.

One of them must have caught on that we were holding back or running out of firepower, because as soon as Dondrae's stream of bullets ceased and he began reloading, the bandits began to move. The white Vulpeculan leaped up and I caught the muzzle-flare of the pistol mounted onto his fake hand.

I didn't hear the explosion of his gun. A shrill, pained scream drowned it out. My blood went cold and I jumped away from the window, rushing towards it.

“No!" I shouted, tossing the rifle to the side and kneeling down. Dondrae had collapsed onto the ground, covering up a hole in his fore-arm with his bloodied paw. The bullet had escaped the other end, tracing a red streak from atop his left eyelid and across his gray scalp. His teeth were clenched together, blood dripping down his muzzle and jowls, staining the ivories crimson. “No, no, no, no!"

“Pawel! They're assaulting us!" Yaleen cried out.

“I won't let you..." I tore off a piece from my right sleeve and tried to stop the bleeding. The cloth became soaked with blood in an instant. “I can't! I can't!"

Dondrae's lips quivered and he tried to speak, but only spat out blood that had trickled into his mouth. His throat rumbled weakly and I caught the slightest hint of something grunted in Lupus.

“Pawel!"

I couldn't leave him alone. I couldn't leave him like I left Neilan. I wouldn't let this be his last hour, not like last time…

But if I stayed here, we would all die. The room was empty, our cover nil. We would be sitting ducks when the bandits stormed upstairs and all the crying in the world wouldn't save Dondrae then.

I hoped he would understand. Dondrae's eyes were still shut and his lips silent, no doubt he was in shock. His nostrils flared violently as he breathed in and out, or perhaps he was desperately trying to catch my scent for comfort.

Cradling my arms around his neck, I pressed my lips to his nose, which was as dry as sand, and kissed him. A weak whine choked up in his throat.

“I'll be back," I whispered.

I kissed him once more, this time on his mouth and got to my feet, wiping the tears from my eyes and my love's blood from my lips. There would be time for tears and kisses later, but now I had to protect what was dear to me. I pulled the Glock from my holster and left Dondrae.

Yaleen had already left the room but was not far, as I could hear the thump of her boots outside in the hall, near the staircase. The unmistakable sharp whine of her needler shot through the air, followed by a series of explosions from the enemy's guns.

I sprinted out, pistol at the ready. Yaleen was crouching behind the short, solid, wooden railing, peeking out once in awhile to launch a series of needles down the stairs. I leaned against the wall on the other side of the stairs, peering around the corner and immediately pulling back as soon as I saw white fur. A round hole exploded in the wall across from the stairs, splinters cutting my cheeks. It was nothing. I returned fire with a quick, three shot burst from the Glock, hoping to hit him. Sadly though, none of my bullets connected.

“Use the flamethrower!" I growled at Yaleen, missing the white head once again.

“No!"

“Do it!"

Yaleen said nothing, continuing to fire a rapid series of bolts. I knew that she couldn't use the fire-balls because of Aldor, but I wanted them dead, especially that white one. Only when the scent of burning fur filled the room would I feel safe.

Revenge is meaningless, but every man, no matter how good, can be pushed into embracing it.

Something heavy caused the floorboards to rumble. Yaleen's ears folded back as she looked over the ledge and I carefully peered out. The Regulian was storming the stairs, holding one of the bar tables in front of him like a shield.

I fired relentlessly, unloading a whole magazine in seconds. I reloaded in a flash, returning fire in an instant. The bullets left countless craters in the table-top, but it wasn't enough to hit the Regulian on the other side.

Yaleen had more luck. At her angle, she was able to get a bead on the Regulian, who screamed each time one of her needles hit him, but it wasn't enough to slow him down. He was a cornered animal looking for the easiest escape route and the only thing in his way was us.

I should have taken Dondrae's rifle. I hadn't even considered taking it for fear of leaving Dondrae helpless. I should have taken it, maybe then…

The Regulian reached the head of the staircase and swung the table at Yaleen, who clumsily rolled over the railing. While he was exposed, I managed to fire off a round in the lion's armored chest that staggered him, but only for a second. I saw the table hurtled towards me and I guarded my face.

The table slammed into me like a sledgehammer, knocking me to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Stars were flashing across my eyes and I felt like I was going to pass out, but I knew that I couldn't. I had to get up for Dondrae.

My arm was heavy, my gun heavier, but no weight was too great to protect my love. I lifted my pistol, the world slowing down to a crawl as I pointed it at the Regulian's face. I saw Yaleen's bolts sticking out his shoulder and I saw the line of blood across his skull. I had to do what Yaleen had failed to do, what I had failed to do earlier.

“Stop!" a voice cried out.

I shouldn't have, but I did. Something in the voice's nasally, Vulpeculan accent got inside my head and bade me listen, for fear of something horrible happening. The Regulian froze as well, thick fangs leering down at me hungrily, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

“We've got your little vixen down here," the voice continued. I had no idea whether it was Aldor or the white one, “if you don't throw down your weapon, we'll have to splatter her pretty head all over the walls!"

“That would be a shame," the other Vulpy hissed.

“Yes, it would, wouldn't it?" the first one said in a slimy tone. “Perhaps we'll let you have a bit of fun with her, hm? But first you have to surrender."

“Surrender," the other one said. There was something simmering behind his voice, a barely constrained rage.

I couldn't let them kill Yaleen. I placed my pistol on the ground and slapped it, sending it spinning towards the booted feet of the Regulian, who bent over and picked it up.

The Regulian peered to his side and growled, “He surrenders."

“Wonderful!" the first Vulpy exclaimed with a tiny yap of joy. “Escort him down, will you?"

In a moment's flash, the Regulian pounced atop me, claws lifting me up by the shoulders. My back slammed into the wall and I could see nothing except for the Regulian's rancid, yellowed fangs, inches away from my face as his nose ran along my short hair, sniffing deeply. His thighs brushed up against my leg and I could feel that he was quite large, even for a Regulian, and excited. I should have kneed him in rocks, Yaleen would have forgiven me, but I didn't. I let him smell me and run his rough, thick tongue across my cheek like Dondrae always did.

When he was satisfied, he grumbled into my ear, “Can't wait to have my turn..." and then without an ounce of attachment, carelessly tossed me to the side, hurtling over the ledge.

I crashed into the floor below, pain wracking my spine. I was still alive and in one piece, against all odds. I lifted my back up, the pain nearly paralyzing me, but was only able to lean up slightly.

The white Vulpeculan had his biological paw wrapped around Yaleen's throat and his mechanical pistol hand pointed at her temple. His eyes were pale blue, much like Dondrae's, but there was no warmth to them like his. No soul. Contrasting with his snow-white fur were a pitch-black tactical vest and pants lined with ammunition pouches and grenades.

“So nice of you to join us!" Aldor brushed the tail of his long, brown duster with his black paws. A wild grin was plastered on his face as he sauntered over to me. “Please, please! Don't bother getting up! We prefer you down there, much easier to get what we want from you later, hm?"

His paw slapped against my cheek, “Don't be afraid! You'll quite like it, I can assure you! We're not so bad once you get to know our organization! A fair share of the booty and advancement based on merit!"

I stared back at him in disbelief. His single, green eye flickered mischievously as his pupil narrowed to a slit.

Aldor looked back at his comrade, “I think he doubts us, Vulo!"

Vulo grunted.

“It's true!" Aldor laughed, showing off his toothy maw. “We both used to be the gang bitches! I sucked and Vulo got fucked! No joke! But thanks to you killing the rest of the gang, I've been promoted to Emperor and I can tell you one thing, I can see you being a good Count one of these days!"

“The vixen stays a concubine," Vulo muttered, pressing his nose against Yaleen's cheek.

“A shame! Believe me, I am far from a sexist! Quite equitable in fact! The fact is, a lady on Planet and the chance to bed her is one hell of a recruiting tool! Far more valuable than the reward the marines are offering. Why, I bet those fellows that are gunner for us outside, half of them would join just for a change to bed her! So, I must apologize, but I was bluffing when I said I'd kill her earlier! No hard feelings, I hope!"

I laid my head back against the ground. I was so stupid.

“Shoot! That reminds me!" Aldor suddenly raised his voice and called upwards. “Shagh! There's a Lupiad upstairs! Finish him off and you're my King!"

I kept still. My heart was racing and my skin grew chill.

“None of us are really keen on Lupiads, especially ones who tried to kill us, you see? Had a bad run-in once with a pack..."

I would not show fear, nor would I beg. There was an edge behind the polite facade of Aldor, something that gave me the feeling that he'd have loved to hear me beg for Dondrae's life just before he snuffed it out. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction, so I lied still and said nothing.

But inside, I prayed.

Run away. Please! Run away!

A loud thud rang out, followed by the desperate scampering of feet on the floorboards. The walls shook as someone was slammed against it. My mind flashed back to when the Regulian shoved me against the wall and I forced myself not to imagine the same thing happening to Dondrae.

Then everything went silent. There was no scuffling or thudding, no signs of a struggle. Everything was still, which seemed to even unnerve Aldor, who for the first time since I'd seen him, looked a bit nervous.

The crack of a gun broke the silence and I waited. Dondrae must have overpowered him. He must have. He wouldn't let the Regulian take him, not Dondrae. No.

“It's done," the Regulian's voice called out from upstairs.