Stupid Sexy Cryptids [25-30] (Patreon)

25: Vampire Tears

North existed in the space between seconds, her consciousness diffused into a crystalline lattice of non-thought. Time moved differently here, slower and kind of sideways, each moment stretching perpendicular to itself. She was aware without thinking, present without full processing, not entirely alive, not exactly dreaming.

Then a sharp point pierced her index finger. The signal! That was the signal!

Her awareness snapped back like a rubber band released, an ocean of scattered thoughts cascading through her network in a painful rush. The light had changed as her network of thought accelerated. The angle of shadows had shifted dramatically.

She was no longer in the bathroom.

Her eyes focused slowly, taking in unfamiliar surroundings. She discovered herself in a bedroom, still chained to the damned chair with her own handcuffs, now positioned facing a window. Through the grimy glass, she could see the Darkbrook valley spreading westward, and there…

Mount Olympus was on fire.

Not just on fire. The entire northwestern face of the mountain had been carved away, replaced by a glowing crater that pulsed with hellish orange light. A massive column of smoke rose into the evening sky, mushrooming at the top like…

Her family’s domain. The bunker. The realisation hit her like a runaway train and for the first time in her long life she felt pure, liquid terror and panic engulf her entire body.

"No, no, no," North whimpered, crystalline tears welling in her eyes, small pieces of herself breaking away with grief and shock.

"They must have tried leaving without you," a familiar voice said from somewhere beside her.

North's head snapped around, the chains rattling. The dark haired, amber-hazel eyed human sat on his bed, his enthralled Wendigo monstrosity wrapped around him in an absurd parody of comfort. The Star of the Frontenachii Dominion Fleet was making soft beeping sounds while playing with a tablet.

"You," North choked out. "I gave you the coordinates to my family’s compound! You…”

“How exactly would I give the Frontenachii fleet your compound location without exposing myself?” the self-proclaimed Emperor of Earth arched a dark eyebrow. 

North sobbed louder, losing more liquid crystals.

"My family—" North wailed. "My grandfather, my siblings—"

"Probably got harvested," Ash said flatly. "The Frontenachii love crystalline fungi. You said so yourself. They turn your kind into weapons."

North stared at him, unable to process the casual calm cruelty in his voice. This wasn't the nervous young man or a clueless mageling she'd tried to recruit. This was something else entirely and she was far too terrified to look into his mind again, worried that his pet Princess would devour her whole, digesting her for centuries. Getting eaten by an Omnid was a fate far, far worse than death, even worse than being turned into a gun or a crystalline tank.

"HARVESTED VEGETABLES!" the Princess announced cheerfully. "Circle mushroom pasta sauce! BEEP!"

"Why?" North sobbed out. "Why would you wake me up to show me… THAT?!"

The Emperor studied her with a calm expression. 

North wanted to scream, to rage, to break free and tear his throat out. But the chains held firm, and a Wendigo Princess was watching her with glowing eyes, and the grief was drowning her, each awful, looping, repeating thought fracturing through her crystalline matrix like cracks in glass.

"You're a distributed consciousness, yes?” He asked suddenly. “Multiple perspectives, shared memories? You remember being your family? Can you think extra sharp, extra loud? Can you maybe think in a specific voice, emulate a particular person from a video?"

"Why does that matter now?" North sobbed.

"It matters because Shady here," he gestured to the Princess who was now pawing idly at his hair, "needs to relearn things VERY quickly. And you might be able to help with that."

"LEARN CIRCLES!" Shady perked up. "EDUCATION BEEP!"

"I'm wondering," the human contemplated, "if she can read specific thoughts from your crystalline network. Pull knowledge directly. You said you remember being other vampires, having their memories."

"That's not…" North began.

"Think at her loudly," Ash commanded. "In Latin. Something she wouldn't know."

"I'm not helping you with teaching an Abyss-damned Omnid Princess to…" North hissed, already knowing that being obtuse and uncooperating wasn’t going to get her anywhere.

"Your family is gone," the Emperor pointed out. "Melted in an atomic hellfire of a Corpse Seeker shot from orbit. As we speak they are probably being scraped off their compound walls and put into jars or whatever. Remember, you can either be useful to me, or you can become Shady’s chowder. Your choice."

North stared at him, then at the Wendigo Princess who had tilted her head curiously, silver eyes focusing on the vampire with a murderous, hungry intensity.

Mater tua tam obesa est, North thought desperately in Latin. Your mother is so fat.

"Mater tua tam obesa est!" Shady suddenly announced in North’s voice. "CIRCLE MOTHER FAT! BEEP!"

Stercus accidit, North continued. Shit happens.

"Stercus accidit! SHIT CIRCLES HAPPEN!"

Futue te ipsum, North thought vindictively. Go fuck yourself.

"Futue te ipsum!" Shady repeated. "SELF CIRCLE ROMANCE! Educational Latin BEEP!"

Ash laughed, actually laughed at this, as his enthralled Princess continued spouting Latin profanity pulled directly from North's mind.

"Excellent," he said. "She’s learning. Quicker than youtube. You can think in parallel as several streams, yes? Language, meaning, images?”

North nodded.

“Great, you’ll make a far better instructor than me or the TV then,” he smiled. He pulled out a laptop and played her a youtube video compilation of the Frontenachii Admiral talking. “Please think at Shady in her aunt’s voice, picture every word visually and in other languages. Ascribe meaning to each word for her to understand. She’s gotta learn to sound like herself and not spout random shit.”

"Why the fuck would I—"

"Because," the Emperor said, "you're alone now. Completely alone. The last vampire on Earth. If you help me fix Shady quickly, make her into a more coherent Princess, we can maybe convince her Admiral aunt not to hunt us down.”

“You think that—"

“This is our best option going forward,” the human insisted. “Say, would she gain your knowledge if she just eats you?”

The vampire’s eyes bulged. She had no idea if Omnid Wendigos could extract information from the crystalloids they devoured.

"NOM NOM MUSHROOM!" Shady barked. 

More crystalline tears fell as North realized she had no choice. She was trapped between two monsters, and the only way to survive was to feed one of them the accumulated knowledge of her now extinct bloodline as quickly as possible.

She was alone now. This meant that she was the last colony, the carrier of generations of knowledge, the last crystalloid on this damned planet. The responsibility to propagate their kind forward, to expand, to make a new domain… all of it fell to her now.

“Fine,” she growled. “FINE! I’ll teach her!”

“Great,” the Emperor walked to a pile of ropes and started binding them in loops to the edges of the chair. “Remember, talk and think in the voice of Admiral Evelithria, just a bit younger maybe. Also, repeat everything I say in your head loudly, so Shady can understand everything."

“What are you doing?” North asked in Evelithria’s voice, readjusting her thoughts and vocal chords ever so slightly. 

"What are you doing?" Shady repeated.

“Making North's chair into a backpack you can wear her on your back, Shades,” he said. “You two might need to run away for a bit.”

"Run away?!" North stammered out.

"Run away?!" Shady echoed in Evelithria’s tone.

The Emperor continued knotting ropes, creating crude shoulder straps attached to the chair. "Cascade is about to become ground zero for the biggest Scrutimancer convention this side of the dimensional curtain. Once they finish scraping your family from that crater and realize what they've found, every Prad Division currently hanging out in space and in random government buildings will converge here to search for more yummy, precious crystalloids. Ergo, you should hide somewhere that's not a house with a driveway soaked in vamp juices."

"Shit," North choked.

“Shit!” Shady repeated.

"Thus, you two are going on a girls-only camping trip," the Emperor said, testing the rope harness. "Shady is going to cut up a couple of bears. You will wear them as meat suits, slow down their decay with your vampire mojo and pretend to be wildlife while teaching our Princess here how to sound like a proper Frontenachii heir."

"Wear... bears?" North choked. In her network, she was already picturing the entire horrid process—Shady striking down the bears with her massive claws, hollowing them out, then North infesting and animating them with her spores. 

"BEAR COSTUME CIRCLE!" Shady declared. "Like StormoLyx but MEAT! Fresh meat costume! Very fashion! BEEP! Furry convention!”

"Exactly," the Emperor nodded. "North will adjust the bear suits to think at sloth-speed, hopefully making both of you invisible to Scrutimancer noses. You both hide in plain sight as local wildlife. Meanwhile, North teaches you everything about being Princess Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii.”

“I don’t know anything about being a freaking Frontenachii Princess!” North protested in the Admiral’s voice.

“You know enough about being a vampire princess or whatever,” the Emperor shrugged. “Princess together it out. And you know enough stuff about the Frontenachii. Improvise. Your survival depends on it.”

“I…” North began.

“Adapt, overcome, bear up,” the Emperor ordered. “Survive.”

"And you?" North asked.

“And you, Emperor mine?” Shady bobbed.

"I'm going to take center stage," the man said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Surrender myself into the Frontenachii embrace. Play my part.”

North's mind raced through the implications. 

He's using himself as bait. But why? What's his endgame? How would he even avoid being bound or being put in a box? He was buying them time? Time to get away? Why?!

"Bait," Shady said suddenly, plucking the multi-layered thought from North's mind. "Emperor is BAIT CIRCLE! Fishing for... for..." She frowned, processing North's multi-dimensional thoughts and perhaps the Emperor’s thoughts too. "Fishing for time. Advantage. Information."

The Emperor smiled. "See? She's already getting better. You're a great teacher, North."

"I'm excellent!" Shady preened, then pointed at North. "Mushroom teacher is adequate vegetable! Acceptable fungi education!"

“Don’t eat North. Learn with your brain hooks or whatever. Got it?”

“Got it!” Shady saluted. “No eat North. Absorb mentally. Hook, chew, digest thoughts.”

"How long?" North asked.

"How long?" Shady repeated.

“The Admiral gave me a deadline to produce a coherent princess. Two days,” the Emperor answered, showing a timer app on his phone, counting down the hours. “Process the speed of this countdown and count in your head to match. You can do that too, yes? You're basically Frontenachii computers, right?”

“Yes.” North gritted her teeth, not enjoying dedicating a part of herself forced to behave as a timer.

“Yes!” Shady saluted.

“Find bears, put them on and slowly head south. Meet me at Wynoochee Lake, Coho Campground when the timer reaches zero. Got it? Here’s your phone, track your location by GPS. Put the vampire-pack on and run now, Shady.”

Shady accepted North’s phone with her tail and put the chair with North on her back. She leaned down and hugged the human, then stood back up.

North nearly bit her tongue off as the Omnid shot off out of the house into the forest. 

Fuck, fuck my life, fuck me sideways, she thought, bouncing in the chair.

“Fuck me sideways!” The Wendigo enthusiastically repeated the words, trees flashing by, the forest growing deeper and darker with each step of pounding clawed feet.

26: Princess Adventures

The forest blurred past as Shady bounded through the undergrowth like a caffeinated deer on steroids. North's teeth clicked together with each jarring impact, the chains and handcuffs rattling madly.

"RUNNING CIRCLE!" Shady announced at maximum volume. "FAST SQUARES BECOME CIRCLES AT SPEED!"

"Could you please," North let out desperately in Admiral Evelithria's voice, "run more smoothly?" 

She pictured smoother, more graceful running that was theoretically befitting a princess.

"Could you please run more smoothly?" Shady repeated, then immediately tripped over a fallen log as she processed the imaginary running technique, sending them both cartwheeling through a patch of ferns.

They rolled into a ravine and crashed into a muddy creek with a spectacular splash. North found herself chained and underwater with a Wendigo sitting on top of her.

"WATER CIRCLE!" Shady declared from above the surface. "Very wet! Much liquid! BEEP!"

I'm drowning, you absolute moron! North thought frantically.

"I'm drowning, you absolute moron!" Shady repeated above, not moving.

GET OFF ME!

"GET OFF ME!" Shady shouted, then finally managed to process the actual meaning frantically being pictured by North. "Oh! Mushroom needs air? But mushrooms don't breathe?"

She stood up, lifting the chair as North heaved.

"I'm crystalline-organic, not a fucking portobello!" North spat water. "I need to not be underwater to think coherently! It takes millennia to crystallize fully! I’m not there yet!"

"Portobello circle!" Shady nodded sagely. "Educational fungus facts! BEEP!"

They continued their wet journey through the forest, Shady occasionally stopping to sniff things or chase her own tail while North desperately tried to maintain her role as educational thought-projector.

The sky is blue, the grass is green, trees are green because of photosynthesis, North thought in Evelithria's voice, trying to give Shady basic concepts.

"The sky is blue!" Shady announced, looking up at the darkening sky. "Except when it's not! Like now! Now it's purple-orange circle!"

Two plus two equals four.

"Two plus two equals four! Unless it's five! Or elephant! Math is subjective like counting!"

North groaned. This was going to be a long night. 

Math isn’t subjective, idiot Wendigo! It’s rational, logical, logarithmic, linear and multi-dimensional!

A rustling in the bushes caught Shady's attention. A black bear emerged, probably investigating the noise. It took one look at the seven-foot antlered monstrosity wearing a wet vampire-chair-backpack and immediately decided this was not its problem, turning to lumber away.

"BEAR CIRCLE!" Shady shrieked with delight. "COSTUME ACQUISITION TARGET!"

She launched herself at the bear. What followed wasn’t a fight. It was more like the bear being thrown into a Wendigo-shaped woodchipper. In seconds North became covered in flying bear bits, soaked in blood. She absorbed the blood, satisfying her hunger. It was an awful, gross meal.

"One bear acquired!" Shady announced proudly, holding shredded bear remnants. 

We need two bears, North thought. One for each of us. You have to be more careful, not slice it up completely.

"We need two bears! Mathematics! One fungus, one princess, two meat costumes!" The insane Wendigo affirmed, draping the remnants of the shredded bear atop North.

Whatever remnants of dignity North had were now thoroughly obliterated.

Another few hours of roaming through the dark forest and sniffing produced a second dead bear and a very annoyed North covered in bear, pine needles, leaves and mud.

"Now we make dis one hollow!" Shady declared, unceremoniously dropping the North-pack onto the ground. "Then the mushroom fills them with mushroom mushroomery!"

"That's not how—" North groaned out, watching with a single bear-flesh free eye as Shady began the deeply disturbing process of hollowing out the second bear.

North frantically tried to picture everything she knew about taxidermy, Thrall-making and skinning animals.

"BEEP! Taxidermy circle! Very educational!" Shady narrated. "Remove organs! Fashion forward!"

Twenty minutes later, North watched as the enthusiastic Wendigo attempted to fit the second bear remnants atop of herself. It didn't work. She was too big.

“Hrm. My bear is too small,” she complained.

"I'm going to remember this," North growled, eye twitching. "When I eventually escape, I'm going to remember every second of this humiliation."

"Mushroom memory is good!" Shady bobbed. "Remember to think slow! Tree-slow! Sloth-slow! Glacier circle slow! Make bear flesh slow!"

North adjusted her temporal processing, slowing her thoughts to a crawl. The world seemed to speed up around her, Shady's words becoming a high-pitched chipmunk squeak. The second bear became draped over her too.

"Thiiiiiis... iiiiis... weeeeeiiiird," North let out slowly as she infected as much of the two bears atop her as she could and then accelerated herself again, glaring at Shady.

"PERFECT DISGUISE CIRCLE!" Shady commented, pulling the second bear atop herself again. "We are definitely normal bears! No one will suspect!"

They looked absolutely nothing like normal bears. Especially the Abyss-damned, massive, naked Omnid. The bear barely covered her.

“I’m going to find more bear to be more bear,” Shady concluded, taking off through the forest. "Teach Princess facts as Shady hunt for more bear!"

First lesson, North thought acidly in Evelithria's voice, Princesses are sophisticated.

“Shady needs to sound sophisticated! BEEP!”

Princesses don't say BEEP every five seconds.

"Princesses don't say BEEP every five seconds!" Shady repeated, then immediately added, "BEEP! Oh no! Habit circle!"

Try replacing BEEP with something else. Like... 'indeed.'

"Indeed! Indeed circle! Very sophisticated! BEEP—Indeed!"

North wanted to cry some more. Or scream. Or possibly both. Or bash her head into a tree until she concussed herself from this horrid existence.

Shady smashed through a tree, barely grunting.

No, no, damn it! That wasn’t… Princesses don’t obliterate trees with their head! North thought furiously. Princesses are graceful, calm!

“You princess, you not calm circle,” Shady pointed out. “Very angry square!”

“Because I’m tied to a damned chair with a dead bear draped atop me!” North snarled, forcing herself to calm down. Repeat after me: 'I am Princess Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii.'

"I am Princess Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii! Indeed! This is a circle!"

No circles, damn it! No squares. Just the sentence.

"No circles? But everything is circles or squares! Or triangles! Sometimes hexagons!"

Princesses speak in complete, sensible sentences, you big antlerred idiot!

"That sounds boring, you big square idiot. Indeed. BEEP. I mean, indeed indeed,” Shady replied. “I smell bear. Must smash and be more bear.”

North looked back.

In the distance, an eerie glow emanated from Mount Olympus where her family's palacial compound had been, smoke trailing across the vast forest as the wind moved southward. 

"Mushroom sad?" Shady asked.

"My entire family is dead," North said flatly.

"Oh. That's a bad circle. Indeed." Shady thought for a moment. "But mushroom has new family now! Bear family! And Princess family! And Emperor family!”

What the fuck kind of dysfunctional…

“Dysfunctional circle family!" Shady agreed.

That's seriously not how family works!

“Shady disagrees. Mushroom, Princess, Emperor! Saving Earth! Indeed!"

North stared at the ridiculous Wendigo in an ill-fitting bear suit and felt a hysteric laugh bubble up. Her family of ancient, sensible, clever immortals, replaced by a brain-damaged alien princess and a human pretending to be Emperor of Earth. The notion was utterly insane, absurd to the Nth degree.

“Square old family unclever,” Shady pointed out, making a noise of air being spliced by a falling Corpse Seeker star. “Tshhhhh! Big bada boom! Smoosh! Scrape!”

"We're all going to die," North groaned.

"At least we'll die as bears! Very fashionable n’ regal! Indeed! BEEP—Indeed indeed!"

. . .

-=[Ashcroft Clifford]=-

I stepped out of my house onto the gothic, damaged porch, the left side plowed through by Shady’s fight with North.

Then, I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the distant burning forest.

Front mind: empty static, white noise, boring thoughts about needing groceries. 

Back mind: Surrender and introduce myself to the Frontenachii, become a distraction while Shady and North played bears in the woods. Hopefully redirect any search parties from the south.

In a few more minutes of mental reinforcement, the sound I was waiting for finally arrived. 

Crystalline legs pounded against asphalt like a thousand huge champagne glasses being tapped in rapid succession. 

Front mind: What's that sound? Creepy and weird!

Back mind: Corpse Seeker, right on schedule.

A crystalline centipede emerged from the main road onto my driveway. It was sleeker than the units dominating government buildings, somewhere between the size of a limo and city bus.

The creature slowed next to the abandoned Paccard and its side split open into a doorway, and three figures emerged from within.

The one in the center was clearly in charge, wearing a fancy, commissar-style cap. A Pradavarian feline, with a spotted fur pattern and big ears, looking similar to a… Serval. She wore a more elaborate uniform than the wolves I'd seen from the news and resistance reports. 

As she moved closer, I noted that her captain's hat bore the Frontenachii antlerred skull three-eyed insignia. Behind her, a Black Panther and a Tiger casually flanked her position, weapons held at the ready.

The Serval leader had no weapons about her, her smile disarming.

Front mind: Oh god, big alien women in my driveway. Should I run? 

Back mind: Good, just gotta play a confused civilian.

"Thrall residue," the Panther growled, crouching to examine the stain on my driveway. "Fresh. Less than twelve hours."

The Tiger walked behind the Serval, looking left and right as if actively searching for threats to take down. The Panther stuck her head into the abandoned Packard, sniffing the interior. "Human transport, smells like a young Crystalloid and four thralls. The fungi were here."

The Serval simply looked at me with evaluating expression, golden eyes with black tear marks running up and down over my entire body. She moved differently than the other Prads I’ve seen thus far. Where Pyotr's wolf girlfriend moved with militaristic rigidity, this cat swayed her hips as she walked, each step deliberate, threatening and sensual.

"My," she purred, stopping uncomfortably close to me. "What do we have here? A human… witness?”

She bent down, bringing her face level with mine. Her breath smelled of mint, cat fur and copper. 

"I am Alpha-Riffmancer Nexxali of Division 881," she said, one claw tracing along my jawline. “Do tell me what you’ve seen here, little human?”

I felt invisible hooks scratch across my mind in the shape of her alluring, perfect voice, trying to dig in. Unexpectedly, they were different from Shady and North’s. Instead of pulling at information, they seemed to pull at my mouth.

Front mind: Sitting in my kitchen watching the news about the invasion, shocked, scared, making coffee with shaking hands, hearing a noise outside

Back mind: Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck, her voice is impossibly perfect, pure, absolute. This is some kind of a magical trick, an illusion, a mental effect. Don’t fall for it. No, wait… pretend to fall for it. That’s it.

Front mind: Wow, your voice is perfect. I’m in love. I love you, catgirl commissar. What kind of cat are you? I don’t even care. Your voice is like…

I realised that I wasn’t actually thinking these things, but ranting out loud.

“Your voice is like a river, an ocean of pure happiness!” I declared. “Never stop talking. I’ll pay you everything I own to hear you talk some more. All five dollars and twenty two cents in savings!”

Nexxali's large ears perked forward, a satisfied purr rumbling in her throat. "Oh, you sweet little thing. Tell me about the thralls that were here."

"Thralls? I don't know any thralls but I'd thrall myself to you right now!" I gushed, my front mind producing heart emojis while my back mind contemplated how to take advantage of this development. "Your fur pattern is like... like lovely nebulae and space constellations!"

The Panther snorted. "His mind smells of heart-devotion. Your Charmchain's working well, Marshall."

"Of course it is," Nexxali preened. "Now, little human, the crystalloid vampire. Where did it go?"

"Vampire? The only thing sucking the life out of me is being potentially deprived of your voice!" I declared, taking a step closer. "Please, say 'crystalloid' again. The way you roll the 'r' is transcendent! Also, what’s a Crystalloid?"

Nexxali’s tail swished. "Focus, human. The vampire."

"I can't focus on anything but you! Your lovely captain’s hat! It frames your lovely, feline face like... like a military halo! I’d salute to you all night long, oh Captain, my Captain!"

The Tiger made a choking sound, sounding like she was trying hard to suppress laughter. Nexxali threw a glare at her and turned back to me.

"Just tell me what happened here."

"What happened is I fell in love!" I proclaimed. "Also there was some other stuff, but who cares about that? You're here now! Do you like coffee? I make terrible coffee but I'd learn to make good coffee for you!"

27: The Serval Cleaner

"The other stuff," Nexxali pressed, leaning closer. Her voice took on more layers of compulsion. "Describe it."

Front mind: Must tell her everything about everything! She's perfect! 

Back mind: Give her useless details. Waste her time.

"There was a black car! Very shiny! And sounds! Definitely sounds! Like... whoosh sounds? And then… thump sounds! Oh, and I saw something that might have been a really big dog? Or maybe a bear? It's hard to tell as I am distracted thinking about how lonely I am without a lovely catgirl Marshall in my life!"

“Seems like your Charmchain voice is working too well on this useless idiot," the Tiger said.

"I'm not useless!" I protested. "I can... I can do things! I know Python and JavaScript! And uhh… Vibe coding! Do you need any websites? I'll code you the most beautiful website that will work half the time!"

Nexxali's eye twitched. "Where. Did. The. Vampire. Go?"

"Probably somewhere less amazing than here because you're not there!" I said. "Your eyes are like golden coins! No, golden suns! No, golden... what's golden and perfect? Honey? You have honey eyes! I’d like to drown myself in them and lick you up all…"

"Should I hit him?" the Tiger asked. "Sometimes physical trauma helps them focus."

"Please hit me, Lady Marshal!" I exclaimed. "Being hit by you would be an honor! I’ll take a photo of the bruise and frame it and then tell my grandchildren! Well, I would if I had any, but maybe we could—"

"ENOUGH!" Nexxali snarled, then immediately composed herself. "Listen very carefully, darling human. I need you to think about what you saw. The vampire from that car. Where is it? Which direction?"

"Every direction leads away from you and that's tragic!" I wailed. "But if I had to guess... that way?" I pointed vaguely North, away from where Shady and North had actually gone. "I'm bad with directions! Some mornings I wonder if I need GPS to find my own bathroom!"

The Panther was thoroughly sniffing the porch. "There's also… a Wendigo scent mixed in. Very fresh."

My worries intensified but I kept the performance going. "Wendigo? Is that your friend? Can I meet them? I want to meet all your friends! We could have a jacuzzi party! I don’t have a jacuzzi, but I would totally install one for you and your lovely friends!"

"A Wendigo was here?" Nexxali's voice sharpened, losing some of its honeyed quality. "When?"

"When doesn't matter because now is all that matters and you're here now!" I grabbed her black-gloved hand, extra committed to the bit. "Your paw pads are so soft! Like velvet! Black velvet!"

The Tiger chortled. "This is painful to watch."

“Nobody asked for your opinion,” Nexxali growled. “Do your job and keep an eye out for threats. The vampire could still be around here.”

"The Wendigo and Vampire scents are very recent," the Panther reported. "But there's something off about the Wendigo though. She’s… scrambled. Like static. No skill echoes. Can't really tell who it was."

"Check inside the house," Nexxali ordered.

"No, wait!" I stepped in front of the door. "You can't go in there! It's... it's messy! I haven't cleaned! There are dishes in the sink! You'll judge me! At least ask me out before barging into my bachelor abode!"

"Move, human," the Tiger growled.

"But what if you see my embarrassing DVD collection? I have all the seasons of Mythbusters! That's not sexy at all!"

"Step. Aside. Darling." Nexxali purred.

Front mind: Must obey the perfect cat lady in leather! 

Back mind: Shit, they'll find evidence of Shady literally everywhere. That’s bad, right? I need to spin this somehow.

I stepped aside with an exaggerated bow. "Only because you asked so beautifully! Your voice could make me jump off a cliff!"

"Don't tempt me," she muttered.

The Tiger and Panther entered my house first. Then the Marshal and I stepped in.

I heard them moving through rooms, opening drawers, probably finding pasta sauce on the walls from Shady's enthusiastic eating.

"Kitchen's a disaster," the Tiger called out. "Looks like someone had a food fight with themselves."

"Wendigo scent is stronger here," the Panther reported. "All over the upstairs bathroom. And... crystalloid scent too. They were both here."

Nexxali studied me with those golden eyes. "A Wendigo and a vampire in your house, and you claim to remember nothing useful?"

"The only thing I want to remember is this exact moment with you!" I said. "Your interrogation technique is flawless! The way you ask questions! So commanding yet elegant! You make my mouth extra eloquent! I’m not usually this chatty or complimentative!"

"He's either extra susceptible or he's having a stroke," the Panther commented, sniffing me as she passed by me.

"Why not both?" the Tiger suggested. "Could be having a partial brain stroke FROM the Charm."

"I'll stroke whatever you want!" I gushed. "I mean... I know how to pet cats! I'm very good at chin scratches! You three are like space cat girls, right?"

Nexxali’s eye twitched.

"The vampire was chained to a chair," the Panther reported. "I think.”

"So the Wendigo captured the vampire," Nexxali mused. "Interesting."

"Interesting like your stripes!" I pointed at the Serval's spots. "Wait, you have spots not stripes. Interesting like your spots! Each one is so unique! I want to count them all, all day, everyday!"

"Nexy, please make him stop," the Tiger begged.

Nexxali grabbed my chin, forcing me to look directly into her eyes. Her voice became pure concentrated command. "Tell me about the Wendigo."

Front mind: TELL HER EVERYTHING! 

Back mind: Deflect, deflect, deflect harder!

"The Wendigo of my heart is you!" I declared. "Metaphorically! You've invaded my soul like a cryptid of love! Your commanding presence haunts me better than any ghost!"

She released my chin with a frown. "Useless. Completely useless."

"I'm not useless! I can be useful! I can... I can carry your things! I can be your butler! Your manservant! Your devoted—"

"Check around the house perimeter. Look for exit trails."

"Yes! Walk around my house!" I followed them eagerly as they moved. "I can give you a tour! That's where many roses used to grow before they died! Like my heart before you arrived! And that's the oak tree that leans over the cliff! Very romantic! We could watch sunsets there and carve our names into the bark!"

The Tiger and Panther spread out, examining the ground while Nexxali studied me with golden, slitted eyes.

"The Wendigo scent is... strange," the Panther called from near the side door Shady had burst through. "Female. Powerful. But mixed with something else."

"Mixed with passion!" I declared. "Just like my feelings for you!”

“Human, focus! Tell me about the Wendigo, damn it! Who was here with you?”

“What’s a Wendigo?” I asked. “Please describe this mythical creature just in case your definition of it varies from mine so that we can meet mentally and make sweet, sweet mental…”

“Black fur, black claws, large antlers, seven feet long,” Nexxali ground out. 

“Ah! AH!… Yes, a lady just like that visited me earlier,” I finally arrived at a most dastardly plot twist. “Very tall. Very intense. Kind of scary but in a hot way? Nothing like you though! You're scary in the best way!"

Nexxali's ears perked. "Describe her."

"She was..." I gestured vaguely upward. "Big? Like really big? Seven feet of 'oh god what's happening?' She just appeared in my bedroom! Can you believe that? I was trying to sleep and suddenly BAM! Giant woman! I totally dropped my tablet!"

"A Wendigo appeared in your bedroom?" Nexxali's voice sharpened.

"I don't know what she was but she was very... aggressive?" I said, fidgeting. "Not aggressive like you! You're perfectly aggressive! She was weird aggressive! Kept saying… stuff I probably shouldn't repeat in front of such a refined company of lovely cat ladies!"

The three Pradavarians exchanged glances.

"Boss," the Panther said slowly, "the scent patterns in that bathroom... I think that they're consistent with mating pheromones. It smells of desire."

"WHAT?" Nexxali turned to stare at me.

"Oh! She was very forward!" I continued, adding more bricks to my story house. "Grabbed me and everything! Said something about me being... adequate? I think? It was hard to focus because she had these antlers and this intense energy and she kept talking about having fun with me—"

"A Frontenachii tried to sleep with you?" Nexxali interrupted.

"I don't know what she tried to do but it involved a lot of grabbing!" I showed them my bruised wrists. "See? She was not gentle! Not like you would be! You'd be perfectly gentle! Or rough! Whatever you prefer!"

The Panther sniffed my wrists. "These are definitely Wendigo claw marks."

Nexxali made a bothered noise, ears twitching downward.

"Oh! That's then the car showed up!" I pressed on like a steamroller. "Black car, very swank and vintage! And these people got out but they weren't really people? They were all wrong! Like mannequins! And the tall lady got VERY upset about her fun time with me being interrupted!"

"The thralls," the Panther muttered.

"She went through my side door without using the handle like normal people and destroyed them!" I gestured wildly. "It was horrible! Pieces everywhere! Black goo! She was so fast! And strong! And then she started screaming about the vampires ruining everything! She was very upset! Then she grabbed the one that wasn't a mannequin and was very mad! A lot of snarling and swearing about the Slayer this and Astral Abyss that!"

I inhaled.

"But then the mountain exploded!" I pointed toward the burning Mount Olympus. "And she just... left, carrying the chair-tied vampire with her! Ran into the yard, boarded this uhhh… black flying motorcycle thing and… ZOOM into the sky! Didn't even say goodbye! Very rude! You wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, would you?"

I made the front of my mind visualize a glider similar to the one that Linari was using, a blurry Wendigo carrying a vampire boarding it and taking off into the sky.

The three Pradavarians looked at each other.

“He saw the Wendigo take the vampire and use a glider to leave,” the Panther said.

Nexxali twitched again, hands opening and closing. "This Wendigo. Did she identify herself? Picture her in your mind, human.”

I pictured the Admiral in my mind.

The Panther gasped. 

“Nadera, what did he see?” Nexxali demanded.

“The Admiral… the Admiral tried to… sleep with this human,” Nadera let out, eyes wide. “She must have used an artifact to scramble her scent, but he’s definitely seeing her face, hearing her voice!”

“WHAT?!” Nexxali barked, large ears tilting back. "The Admiral would never—" She started, then stopped. Her tail went rigid. "Fuck. That hypocritical, sanctimonious, human-hating beerch. She gives us endless lectures about maintaining distance from the primitives while she's down here getting her rocks off?"

The Panther and Tiger shifted uncomfortably.

"EVERYONE FREEZE!" Nexxali suddenly barked, her voice carrying an edge of pure, absolute command that made my heart stutter. 

The Tiger and Panther instantly went rigid, their bodies locking in place mid-breath. Their eyes glazed over, staring at nothing. The front of my mind froze. I pretended to freeze too.

She tapped her crystalline ring. “Corpse Seeker 881-Zeta, master command override Nexxali-Alpha-Seven-Seven-Seven. Disconnect from the infonet. Run self diagnostic and suspend all primary functions until further notice.”

Then she turned to the two paralyzed prads, staring at the large guns on their sides.

"Erca, Vexa, master command override Nexxali-Alpha-Seven-Seven-Seven," she said. “Disconnect yourselves from the infonet, and go vaporise the vampire blood outside. Clean the car the vampires were in and then clean this entire house of any Crystalloid, Wendigo, Pradavarian and human scents, hairs, body fluids and Astral imprints.”

“Aknowledged!” The two guns spoke, unfolding into large long-limbed spiders and skittering away from their owners, heading outside.

"Nadera, Zyra, you will forget the last ten minutes," Nexxali continued, looking at the pair of prad cats. "The vampire thrall trail led us up the road across town but eventually… became too degraded to pursue. Two of you got out to sniff the forest and then there was the sound of gunshots."

The feline prads nodded mechanically. 

Nexxali stepped behind her minions and pulled out her sidearm. It was a simple-looking, dark handgun without red eyes. She pointed it at Nadera’s head from behind and pulled the trigger. Nadera’s head detonated, spraying my den with prad blood. Then she executed Zyra in the same manner. Two dead Pradavarian bodies crumpled to the floor.

I strategically maintained my ‘freeze’ position like a child that was playing the world’s most horrifying Freeze Tag game.

Nexxali slumped down onto my couch, legs crossed, massaging her temples with a deep growl.

"So sick of this shit," she muttered. "Sick of cleaning up Highborn messes. 'Oh Nexxali, make sure nobody finds out about my little indiscretion.' 'Oh Nexxali, eliminate the witnesses.' 'Oh Nexxali, your voice is so useful for making issues disappear.'"

She pulled out a flask from her uniform, taking a long drink. "So many years of this. Decades of covering up for those antlerred fucks. 'Oh, but we're so above the primitive species,'" she mimicked in a pompous voice. "'We would never lower ourselves to their level.' Hypocritical, horny beerches, every last one of them!" She lamented to herself and chugged more from her flask, eyes glazing over slightly. She burped loudly.

Then she chugged some more and rubbed her face tiredly. "And now the Admiral herself? The one who constantly demotes subordinates for 'fraternizing?' The one who gives everyone endless lectures about racial purity? Fucking typical!"

She finished whatever was in her flask and then her golden, somewhat blearly-looking eyes suddenly snapped to me. “Shit. The human witness. Gotta get rid of you too.”

She aimed her sidearm directly at my head, black gloved finger sliding to the trigger.

Welp, I set myself up for this one. Good job, Emperor.

28: The Emperor Gets a Kitten

I ducked down a second before the gunshot went off, the bullet displacing the air inches above my head.

“What the shit,” Nexxali sputtered. “You… you moved?! HOW?!”

I moved some more, making my strategic retreat from the trigger-happy officer.

“Stop!” She yelled after me. “HALT!”

The front of my mind was already halted to its maximum halting capacity. Fortunately, the back of my mind was still perfectly functional and in full control of my limbs. 

"I said STOP!! CEASE MOVING!" Nexxali roared, her voice packed full with magic compulsion that clawed uselessly at the frontend of my mind. Another shot cracked through the air, splintering the doorframe where I'd been moments ago.

I sprinted into the kitchen. My fingers closed on the bottle of cooking oil left on the counter, the one I'd used to make Shady breakfast. I quickly unscrewed the cap and flung the contents across the floor tiles just as Nexxali burst through the doorway.

"Nowhere to run now, you little—"

Her drinking flask must have contained something strong because her previously graceful feline movements were clumsy, reaction time slow. Her paws hit the oil slick at full speed. 

For a moment, she looked like a cartoon character, legs windmilling frantically as physics caught up with her. Then she went horizontal, flying into the ancient refrigerator.

The impact shook the entire kitchen. The fridge teetered, groaned, then toppled forward with the slow inevitability of a century-old felled pine tree. Nexxali's golden eyes went wide just before several hundred pounds of 1950s appliance crashed down on top of her.

"MOTHERFUCKING OWGHHH!" came the muffled feline shriek from beneath the fridge.

I didn't wait to see if she was okay. 

I ran out of the kitchen to the hall closet where I stashed the Tommy guns. My hands were tingling as I grabbed one, the weight of it reassuring. I'd never actually fired a 1920’s gun before, but how hard could it be? Point and squeeze, right?

The fridge slammed sideways as the panting pradavarian officer emerged from beneath the appliance, her black uniform oily and rumpled. 

"You," she hissed venomously.

"Say hello to my little friend," I growled as I pulled the trigger.

The Tommy gun kicked like an angry mule. The noise was deafening in the enclosed space, brass casings cascading across the floor as bullets stitched across Nexxali's torso. She flew backward into a kitchen cabinet, wooden cabinets exploding around her as the .45 caliber rounds hammered into her body.

I released the trigger, ears ringing, expecting to see... well, what you'd expect after hitting someone with thirty rounds from a Thompson.

Instead, Nexxali pushed herself upright with a bothered groan, looking more annoyed than dead. Her fancy uniform was shredded, hanging in tatters, but beneath it a form-fitting hexagonal-textured undersuit shimmed with emerald-violet flashes.

The suit acted like some kind of a highly advanced bulletproof vest, slowing the bullets before they did any major damage.

"Nice try," she growled, then lunged for me.

I raised the gun and aimed for her face, squeezing the trigger again. A hexagonal shield materialized inches from her snout, projected from a collar around her neck I hadn't noticed before. The bullets sparked and ricocheted, one shattering the kitchen window.

She howled, flying backwards, then rolled sideways to grab her gun from the floor.

Fine. New target. I swept the gun toward her right hand. The machine gun burst caught her fingers, and she yowled, the gun spinning from her grip and clattering across the floor.

I fired again, sending her flying across the kitchen. Then, I dove for her dropped gun, snatching it up and pointing it at her. Maybe her own gun would have enough power to go through that suit.

I pulled the trigger. Nothing. Not even a click.

"Biometric lock, idiot," Nexxali hissed, opening and closing her right hand, which seemed to be only slightly bruised due to the bulletproof suit. "Only I can fire it."

Well, fuck me, I guess.

I bolted through the back door and out into the garden clutching the useless alien handgun in one hand and the Tommy gun in the other. 

Behind me, I heard Nexxali roar with frustration. “Give me back my gun!”

I had to get rid of her weapon, so she wouldn’t shoot me in the head with it. But how? I looked around desperately for a…

The old well in the back garden!

Grandpa had capped it years ago but never filled it in. I yanked off the wooden cover and cast the alien handgun into the well.

"MY GUN!" Nexxali burst through the back door sending splinters flying. “NOOOooo!”

She watched as her pistol vanished from my open hand into the well. A distant splash echoed up.

“It’s sleeping with the fishes now!” I answered and blessed her with another burst from the Thompson. 

She tried to dodge but her drunken reflexes were too slow. The impacts sent her careening across the garden, crashing through Grandma's old rose trellis in a tangle of thorns and profanity.

The vampire machine gun clicked, the drum magazine empty.

I dropped the Tommy gun and sprinted around the side of the house, arriving at the driveway.

The trusted Cherokee! 

I dove into my car, hand scrambling under the seat until my fingers found the magnetic case with the second set of keys, heart pounding madly.

The engine turned over on the second try, and I spun the wheel to rotate the car across the gravel front loop.

In the rearview mirror, I saw Nexxali leap from the rose bushes on all fours, the hexagonal undersuit gleaming in the sunlight through the holes in torn uniform. She looked less like a military officer and more like some primordial predator as she bounded after me, covering ground with terrifying speed.

I floored it down the long, winding gravel road toward Cascade, the Cherokee's engine screaming in protest. In the mirror, Nexxali kept pace for almost a quarter mile before finally falling behind, her figure shrinking to a distant dot still pursuing on all fours.

My heart was thrumming madly.

What the hell was I going to do now? I'd just shot a Pradavarian officer. Multiple times. And threw her gun down a well. Brilliant strategy there, Emperor. Just amazing. Your genius truly knows no bounds.

The road curved ahead, Cascade's rooftops twinkling in the valley below. I needed to—

The Cherokee lurched sideways as something massive slammed into it from the forest.

“Gotcha now, miscreant!” A familiar voice howled.

Nexxali's reinforced fist punched through the passenger side window in a shower of safety glass. Her face pressed against the opening, golden eyes wild.

I yanked the wheel hard, veering toward the cliff wall. The Cherokee's left side scraped against the rock face with a grinding shriek of metal on stone. Sparks flew as Nexxali's hexagonal suit caught between unyielding granite and Detroit steel.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK—" Her curses cut off as she lost her grip, sharp, jagged rocks tearing her from the vehicle. In the side mirror, I watched her tumble across the asphalt, the suit flashing emerald and violet as it absorbed the impact, leaving a trail of rainbow sparks.

She was already pushing herself up on all fours, shaking her head. Tough as nails, drunk as a skunk, and still gunning for me.

Fine. Let's see how much punishment that fancy suit could handle.

I slammed the Cherokee into reverse, tires squealing. Nexxali's eyes went wide as two tons of American engineering bore down on her. She tried to dodge but her reflexes were shot. The rear bumper caught her square, and I felt the vehicle lift slightly as it rolled over her.

The suit erupted in a cascade of defensive hexagons, flashing like a disco ball having a seizure. I could hear her swearing and howling in pure, unfiltered rage.

I shifted to drive and plowed over her, then reversed again, making another pass. The suit was going absolutely haywire now, hexagons flickering and stuttering, some sections dimming while others blazed brighter. 

Whatever powered that thing had to have limits.

When I finally drove backwards after my 4th pass, Nexxali was sprawled on the asphalt, the suit flickering weakly like a dying neon sign. She was still conscious, golden eyes tracking me with murderous intent, but she wasn't getting up. Her attempts to move resulted in twitching limbs and more creative profanity.

"Battery's dead?" I called out the broken window. "Should've brought a charger."

"I'm going to wear your skin as pajamas," she wheezed.

"Get in line, Miss Roadkill. A Wendigo and a vampire already called dibs on me!"

I floored the jeep, heading straight for her.

The Serval officer managed to leap away at the last second, her body arcing through the air with feline grace. She vanished into the forest edge, yelllow and black tail fluttering behind her like a tattered flag.

I slammed on the brakes, the Cherokee fishtailing to a stop. Through the obliterated window, I saw two golden eyes glaring at me from between the trees like amber coins.

"What's wrong, kitty?" I called out. "Need a ride? I promise to drive really carefully this time!"

A snarl erupted from the woods. "I'm going to snap your neck like a twig, you pathetic primitive! Then I'll use your vertebrae as a necklace!"

"Very arts and crafts of you!" I shot back. "But shouldn't you be calling for backup? Oh wait—" I made an exaggerated thinking face. "Can't have witnesses to you executing your own squad members, can you? Especially not after the Admiral getting all handsy with some poor local."

The snarling intensified. "Fuck you!"

"Too stubborn to give up, huh?" I revved the engine. "Fine, fine. Catch me if you can, whiskers!"

I peeled out, watching in the mirrors as she burst from the forest, pursuing on all fours. Even drunk and battered, she was keeping pace. The suit might be failing, but whatever muscles these Pradavarian cats had, were no joke.

I thought of the resistance reports I read this morning while using Shady as a pillow. Felines. Division 117 in Moscow, enjoying gifts of books about Baba Yaga and…

Cascade greeted me with relatively calm streets. I wondered if North’s words of panic buying had been exaggerated. The local pet store was miraculously still open regardless of alien invasions when I screeched into the parking lot. 

"Pet Paradise" sign glowed in neon pink as I ran into the shop through the sliding doors. I glanced behind me, seeing distant Nexxali bounding across the lot, tongue out, teeth sharp, eyes blazing.

I nearly bowled over a teenage employee. "Emergency! Need catnip! All of it!"

"Urmmm… Aisle three."

I headed straight for the cat toy aisle, grabbing every catnip mouse, ball, and pillow I could find. 

The front window exploded inward as Nexxali arrived, landing in a shower of glass and snarling fury. Her uniform was fully gone, just the flickering hexagonal undersuit that made her look like she was wearing scales made of mostly dead LEDs. Glass peppered her ginger mane, captain’s hat long gone, the face shield fully dead.

Customers screamed, fleeing toward the back exit.

"Finally stopped running, coward?" she hissed, advancing on all fours, muscles coiling.

"Just doing some shopping!" I ripped open a catnip mouse with my teeth.

She lunged.

I flung the torn catnip toy directly into her open mouth as she tried to bite my face off. Her jaw snapped shut on fabric and concentrated herb, choking and sputtering.

The effect was instantaneous, as advertised by the Russian resistance members.

Nexxali's pupils blew wide, turning her golden eyes into black holes ringed with gold. She made a confused "mrrp?" sound around the toy, then started chewing it more deliberately. 

Her aggressive posture melted like ice cream in summer.

"Whaaa..." she mumbled around the mouthful of catnip, swaying on her feet as I stuffed more toys into her mouth. "This is... what is... oh. Oh no. Oh this is... mmmmm… tasty."

She dropped to the floor, rolling onto her back, all four limbs in the air as she batted at the overhead fluorescent lights. In less than a minute, the fearsome Pradavarian officer became an oversized housecat, high as a kite.

"Why does the ceiling have so many stars?" she drawled. "They're moving! Dancing! Little boxy dancers! What is this amazing stuff and why can’t I stop chewing it?"

The hexagonal suit had completely shut down, leaving her in what looked like a high-tech, black wetsuit.

"This isn't over!" she declared, though it came out more like a purr. "I'm gonna... gonna..." She rolled over, drooling and chewing the toys stuffed in her mouth. "Gonna take such a nap first. Then murder you. Definitely murder after nap time."

The teenage employee peered out from behind the counter at me. "Dude, what the hell happened?"

"Just alien invasion things," I said. "Sorry, I got into a fight with my alien cat girlfriend.”

The teen opened and closed his mouth. I gave him a thumbs up, looked around and spotted a pink dog collar with a black hearts on it. “Ah. Perfect. I’ll take this, plus all the catnip you’ve got in stock.”

The teen rang my purchases through, looking utterly bewildered.

I limped back to Nexxali and put the collar over her neck, snapping it shut.

“Wuh?” She opened one gold eye.

“Got you a gift. A nice kitty collar as is Earth tradition.”

“Kay.” The feline eye closed. “Taaanks.”

29: Marshal Commandant

"Come on, kitty," I said, hooking my arms under Nexxali. "Time to go."

"Wa? I don't wanna go nowheres," she mumbled, but didn't resist as I hauled her to her feet. She was heavier than expected, plenty of muscle mass packed into a deceptively lean and curvy frame. 

"Hrm," I said, steadying her as she swayed. "Apologize to the nice human boy for breaking his store window."

"Mmmmsorry," she slurred in the general direction of the employee, golden eyes unfocused. "'Bout the.. the... the every-whatever else I did or didn’t break here."

"And you'll pay for damages," I prompted.

"Yeah, yeah. Gold cube. Tomorrow. Maybe. When the ceiling stops wild-dancering." She hiccupped, "Division 881 honors its debts! Even when... when everything's all... floaty."

The teenager nodded rapidly, clearly just wanting us gone.

I half-carried, half-dragged Nexxali to the Cherokee. She kept stopping to sniff things, leaning towards: a fire hydrant, a trash can, my hair. 

"You smell like…. fear, sweat and oil," she announced. "And roses. Why roses?"

"You crashed through a rose trellis. Super rare roses. Worth at least two gold cubes."

"Oh. Right. That was me." She giggled as I wrestled her into the passenger seat. “Okkay. Two cubes. Later…”

I realised that she occupied the same spot where Shady sat earlier while we went shopping. Now, instead of a Wendigo, I had a drunk, high, alien commissar drooling catnip-laced saliva onto my upholstery.

When I let go of her, she curled up in the seat. I handed the bag with catnips toys to her and she clutched them hard, like a security blanket. 

I exhaled. 

"Nexy,” I began.

“Yeah?” She asked through a mouthful of toys.

“Your little cleanup operation back at my house, walk me through it."

"Mmm?" She didn’t bother opening her eyes, purring deeply. "Oh. Right. Gotta... gotta make it all disappear. Can't have anyone knowing the Admiral's a hypocrite who..." She made a vague gesture. "You know. Does the thing… she yells at others for doing."

"Fraternizing with primitives?"

"Fraternizing." She drew out the word like it tasted funny. "Yes. That. Very bad. Very against regulations. Section something something... I used to know all the sections..." Her voice grew mournful. "Used to be such a good… what am I?"

“I dunno,” I said. “A Propaganda Officer?”

“Yeah, thasss ‘bout right.” She let out and fell silent. 

"Your plan," I prompted, pulling onto the main road from the pet store. "The Corpse Seeker, the guns?"

"Oh!" She perked up slightly. "Yes. I… Set the Seeker to maintenance mode before we left. It's net-less. He he he. No recording, no transmitting." She counted on her claws. "Four more hours? Maybe five? Math is hard when the numbers keep dancing. Nuff time to…”

“To what?”

“For the guns to drag the bodies of their dead pawtnerrrs into the Corpse Seeker and to clean up your…” She yawned and chewed some more. “Your smelly, primitive, dirty house.”

"Then what?"

"Uhhhhh… Then… I have to report that we found nothing at your house and that the vampires thralls shot my girls, before the Seeker vaporised the vampire thrall scum and started glitching so I had to reset her…”

She fell silent, purring intensifying.

“And then?”

“I’d ask for a gate to have the guns drag Nadera and Zyra into the Incarnator temple. When they get resurrected, they won't remember the last few minutes before death. Standard… uhhh… me-voice order and ssss… synaptic disruption from terminal trauma to boot! Dassss it!"

She rolled over in the seat, facing me with dilated golden eyes. "The Admiral gets to keep her reputation, I get another commendation… maybe, and you..." She frowned. "YOU! You were supposed to be dead. Part of the cleanup. But you're not dead. You're driving. And you put a collar on me."

Her paw went to the pink collar. "Why did you put this on me?"

"I felt like you could use some accessorizing," I shrugged.

"It's pink," she observed. "I'm a ghhh…. ghighly trained Rrrrr…. Riffmancerrrrr Marshal Commandant and you put a pink collar with hearts on me!"

"That I did.” I said. “Black hearts. Kinda fits, no?”

She contemplated this for a long moment. "Acceptable," she finally decided, then started purring again.

I drove up the road back to my house and stopped in the driveway.

“Just one…. Rrrr… one big problem." She let out.

"Which is?"

"You're alive. And you know things. I rrrr… really have to kill you, but I don’t wanna do nothing… except chew this shhtuufff. Ughhh. How are you Rrrrrr… Resisting my voice?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Make some educated guesses, Miss Commandant.”

Nexxali squinted at me, eyes struggling to focus as she chewed on the catnip. "The local Aether here is dense as fuck... is like trying to breathe molasses," she mumbled, one paw going to her lower stomach. "My mana tank… Feels full but it’s really not… I can't... can't draw from it properly. Maybe that's the prrrrroblem."

She paused, frowning. "It… worked fine on Nadera and Zyra though. They froze like good little kittens when I..." She made a vague gesture. "When I did my…. Rrrrr… voice thing."

“Ah, ah!” Her ears perked up suddenly, a moment of clarity breaking through the catnip haze. "I know! Someone trained you! Someone who knows how Charmchain works. Someone really, really good at fucking with minds." Her pupils narrowed slightly. "A Wendigo. One of those antlered bastards taught you to resist!"

"Maybe the Admiral trained me personally," I suggested.

Nexxali let out a barking laugh that turned into a hiccup-purr. "The Admiral? THE Admiral Evelithria? Training a human?" She rolled on her seat, chortling. "That's... no. No way. The Admiral HATES humans. Like, pathologically. She thinks you're all... what's that word she uses? Vermin? No, wait... chattel. Animated meat waiting to be harvested."

“Yes, but…” I said.

“Having fun with low-race males is something that everyone does now and then,” Nexxali said. “That’s completely different from training a human… to rrrrr… resist mental control.”

"And yet here I am, resistant to your voice," I pointed out.

"Yeah, that's..." She chewed her lip, then the catnip toy, then her lip again. "That's really fucking weird. You ARE resistant. Which means someone did train you. But the Admiral training a human is like... like..." She struggled for a comparison. "Like me voluntarrr…rrily going to one of Datamancer Kawtrrrha's horrifically borrring spreadsheet presentations. Theorr… …rrretically possible but would require massive head trauma first."

We sat in silence for a moment, Nexxali alternating between purring and muttering to herself about how fucked up this situation was.

"Do you like working for the Frontenachii?" I asked, watching the spider guns zapping my house with red flashes from within.

Nexxali's purring stopped abruptly.

"Like it?" She laughed bitterly through the catnip haze. "LIKE IT? Oh, that's rich..." She rubbed her face with both paws. "You really wanna know? You really, really wanna know what it's like being a Riffmancer Marshal Commandant for the glorious Frontenachii Colonial Dominion?"

"Yep."

"It's shit," she said flatly. "Complete and utter shit wrapped in a fancy uniform with a nice fancy title. You know what I do? I clean up messes. Highborn messes. 'Oh Nexxali, make this witness disappear.' 'Oh Nexxali, convince these idiot locals to sign away their souls forever.' 'Oh Nexxali, your voice is so useful for making problems go away.'"

She pulled another catnip toy from the bag, sniffing it. "Decades of being their cleanup crew. Their fixer. Their problem-solver. And you know what I get for it? A pat on the head and another medal I can't even wear because it would 'compromise operational security.'"

"Why don't you quit?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

She snorted. "Quit? QUIT? Oh, you sweet, naive little human. You don't quit the Frontenachii. You know what happens to Pradavarians who try to break their blood contracts?"

I shook my head.

"The blood in your veins starts to boil. Literally. Like someone poured acid through your circulatory system. And you're alive through all of it. Conscious. Aware. If you keep trying, your soul catches fire too." 

"Eeesh."

"Yeah. So no, I don't 'like' working for them. But I can’t stop." She fell quiet for a moment, then laughed again, high and slightly hysterical. "You know what the really fucked up part is? I'm good at it. Really, really good. Like the… rrr.. best rrrr… Riffmancer in the fleet. My voice can make anyone do anything. Well... almost anyone." She glared at me accusingly. “Not allowed to mind control the Wendigo cunts.”

"Must be lonely," I said.

"Lonely?" Her voice cracked. "You have no idea. Can't have real relationships because everyone's either terrified of me, cannot disobey me, is charmed to the whiskers by my voice, or wants to use me.” 

I nodded.

“Hey.” She scratched her collar. "Human. What's your name?”

“Ash.”

“Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Should I be?"

"I tried to kill you! Multiple times! I executed my own squad!"

"Yeah, but you're really bad at the killing me part. And the squad thing was to protect your secret about the Admiral. They won’t die right?"

“Uhhh… yes,” she said, “but it’s like… You knew that they wouldn't die. You’re looking like you know things.”

“What things?”

“Secret things,” she whispered with a shudder. “You knew what this tasty grass would do to me.”

“If I knew everything secret, I wouldn't be asking about your secrets,” I pointed out.

"You know what?" Nexxali said suddenly. "Fuck it. Fuck all of it. I'm so tired. So, so tired of pretending everything's fine. Of following orders. Of being the perfect officer. My uniform’s shredded to bits, my gun’s at the bottom of some Abyss-forsaken well! You wanna know all my secrets? Fine. Here's a good one: I’ve been grinding at my blood contract."

"And?”

“I’ve barely made any progress on it… It’s been inescapably tight… Every moment of my life. Except…”

“Except?”

“Except here.”

“Oh?”

"I’ve been slacking-ish since planetfall," She blanched. "Been telling the higherups I'm 'investigating leads' but really I've just been... loafing. Drinking. Smoking. Trying to figure out what the point of any of this is. Conquer another world, harvest more people, move on to the next. Over and over and over. For what? So the Highborns can add another trophy to their collection, increasing their hoard size?"

She slumped in the seat. "I used to believe some of it, you know? When I was younger and stupider. The great Frontenachii Colonial Dominion, bringing order to the mess of the decaying, doomed Omniverse across the finite curve thing… accessible by dimensional gates. But it's not order. It's just... consumption. We're locusts with fancy titles. Being here, on this weird-ass, nearly Astral-less planet crammed with so many humans, it just makes it all the more clear…”

“You're the baddies?” I suggested.

“We're the baddies." She agreed.

"So why help cover up the Admiral's… indiscretion?"

"Because that's what I do," she said simply. "It's all I know how to do anymore. Clean up messes, make problems disappear. Even when I hate every second of it. Even when it makes me want to claw my own eyes out. Because what else is there? Where else would I go? I'm bound by blood to serve the Dominion Fleet until I die. And when I die, they just resurrect me and put me back to work. A chain that never ends."

She laughed again, but it sounded more like a sob. "You know what the really, really fucked up part is? Part of me was hoping you'd manage to kill me. Somehow… Really kill me. Like dead enough that they… couldn't bring me back. Because at least then it would be over. I… I chased you like an idiot… because I wanted you to win."

The weight of her confession hung between us.

"But no," she huffed. "You had to go and feed me the tastiest grass in the universe and put a collar on me instead. A pink collar. With hearts. Like I'm some kind of..." She trailed off, then looked at me with dilated golden eyes. “Mrrrrrrrfff… you don’t make sense. Your damned planet doesn’t make sense. The Admiral’s actions don’t make sense. The runaway Princess doesn’t make sense. I don’t make sense…”

30: Hostage

I opened the door, went inside the house and returned with my tablet in tow. The cat-toy pacified Serval Prad didn’t move from her seat.

“So. How’s the situation on the ground?” I wondered. “Are the other Prads slacking too?”

“Obviously they fucking are,” the Serval girl huffed, eyes closed. “It’s cat… he he he… catastrophic! The Highborns are up on the ships pretending like this is fine. It is not fine. Shit’s never been this bad.”

“Why?”

“Scrutimancy doesn’t work on your planet,” she said. “Normally… on a high Aetheric density world, a Scrturttt knows exactly how to find someone or something. They know, sniff out the best path forward to victory. Ten thousand Scruts making landfall would find the Princess in ten minutes on a normal planet! But noooo…”

She sighed.

"The gals in London? They've spent day and night searching for Platform 9¾. They took apart an entire train station wall looking for a dimensional gate that doesn't exist! Division 226 in Beijing bought a mountain of xianxia novels for gold from a group of humans who practically threw it at them and are now trying to decode the 'secret techniques.' Their Datamancer made a 29-dimensional spreadsheet trying to correlate cultivation realms with power levels that clearly DON'T FUCKING EXIST!”

“Because of Aetheric density?”

“Because they don’t want to do real shit. Like I don’t want to do shit. Fuck this shit sideways,” she grumbled.

I smiled mentally. Malicious compliance at its finest.

"Most of Division 117 is out hunting for Baba Yaga's chicken-legged house. A CHICKEN HOUSE! They've deployed all of their Corpse Seekers to comb through Siberian forests looking for a fairy tale for children! Meanwhile, Commander Unicia is having her wolves sniff through comic book stores because she's convinced Spider-Man is real and hiding somewhere in New York. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad.”

“So they know it's fiction?”

“Everyone on the ground knows it’s fiction. But there’s a tiny, microscopic chance that it might not be… like the vampires found here, so they’re diligently keeping at it, sending reports up for their superiors and Datamancers to review.”

I smiled.

She rolled onto her back. "And don't even get me started on Division 667 at the Vatican. They're trying to steal the Holy Grail. FROM THE VATICAN. Which doesn't have it because IT'S NOT REAL! But no, the Alpha Scrut of 667 is convinced the Pope is hiding it in some secret vault because 'so many humans believe in its power.'"

"The Frontenachii fleet," she continued, voice dripping with disdain, "the mighty force that's conquered a thousand worlds, is being defeated by… human fiction. We're chasing shadows and stories while the actual humans are..." She paused, squinting at me. "What ARE the humans doing?"

"Panicking, mostly," I said. "Some looting. Lots of praying."

"See? Kind of normal conquered species behavior! But are we establishing proper dominion protocols? No! We're looking for… what’s its name… Urrrrmmm… Hogwarts! Division 441 filed a report claiming they found evidence of a 'wizarding school' because they discovered a Harry Potter theme park or someshit!"

She sniffed the bag full of catnip toys. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? We're supposed to be professional conquerors! Instead, we're running around like idiots chasing every myth, legend, and pop culture reference on this insane planet!"

“Tell me more about your Wendigo commanders. Are they stupid? Don’t they understand that it’s fiction?”

“Ughhh…. Where do I even start with those antlered fucks?" She held up a paw, and then got distracted by wiggling her fingers and giggling to herself. "Some of them... some are definitely complete morons.”

“Why?”

“Because they were raised without any outside contact in time-dilation bubbles. BUBBLES! In a confined space of like five rooms separated from the rest of reality. By Prad instructors from the most fucked up worlds imaginable."

"Time dilation bubbles?" I asked. “Why?”

"To make them grow up faster. The fleet had to have many Frontenachii commanders. A few weeks pass outside, decades pass inside. But the instructors teaching them?" She laughed bitterly. "Traumatized Prad veterans who've died so many times they barely remember their own names. So you get Wendigo commanders who know seventeen ways to skin a dragon but think chocolate milk comes from brown cows because that's what their brain-dead wolf instructor believed!"

She fumbled with another catnip toy, tearing it open with her teeth. "Then you've got the old-as-fuck Frontenachii Martiarchs. The ones who've been through the Incarnator too many times. Each resurrection degrades them a little with each death. One of them complained to me that she can't remember her own childhood in Omnithornia anymore. Replaced with tactical optimal invasion data and a vague sense that she should be angry about something but can't recall what!"

"Sounds pretty bad," I said.

"That's the Frontenachii way!" Nexxali laughed, high and unhinged. "Keep plowing on and on like a stupid, blind elk! The fleet might look fancy and ancient from afar, but was actually put together on a whack schedule by some enslaved crab-race rapidly using time dilation so that the homeworld wouldn’t even know shit about it. It’s all a big, terrible secret! Everything up there is held together with hopes and dreams and nano-graphite-tape! Aha ha ha ha! They're trying to conquer as many planets as possible before Omnithornia notices and shames them into slowing it down!”

“What about current soldier morale?”

“Marshalls like me are trying to keep up morale,” she scowled. “The only problem is that nothing works right on this dense-Aether shithole of a planet. Charmchain barely functions. I can't even make a human freeze up properly!" She gestured wildly at me. "Look at you! Sitting there all smug and resistant! Didn’t even flinch when I ordered you to stop running!”

“Oh?”

"Do you know how pathetic I am?” She clawed at her face. “I'm supposed to be the top Riffmancer in the fleet! My voice made Lords bow, forced generals to surrender armies and nations! Made entire cities kneel! And you?" She poked my side slowly. "You just... ignored it. Like I was asking you nicely instead of commanding your very soul!"

"Maybe you're just having an off day," I suggested.

"An off day?" She huffed. "No. My core Skill is so weak here I can barely charm a... a..." She looked at the catnip toy bag. "I can't even think of a good comparison. See? Even my amazing wit is failing! This planet is poison to everything we are!"

She pressed her paws to her temples. "The fleet Alphas in command know your fiction isn't real. They KNOW. But they have to pretend to search because what else can they do? Admit to the Admiral that this entire invasion is a catastrophic waste of resources? That we can't even properly bind the locals permanently because our Charmchain magic keeps... fizzing out like a wet firecracker only after a few hours or days?"

"So the invasion is failing?"

"Oh, we'll still win," Nexxali said miserably. "Eventually. Through sheer numbers and orbital moon-dropping superiority. But it won't be the clean, efficient operation the Admiral promised. It'll be messy and stupid and take forever. And meanwhile, I'm stuck here, ranting all of our secrets like an idiot. Why am I so ranty? Curse you and your delicious bags of tasty grass!”

“You still gonna murder me?” I wondered.

“I’ll murder you twice as murdery now!” She promised. “As soon as I can move properly again! I just told you enough shit to have me turned inside out and upside down for a bazillion years.”

“Riiiiiight.” I held up my tablet, typing a message to Napoleon. "Hey Nexxali, hypothetical question. What happens if locals take a Pradavarian high ranking officer hostage?"

She snorted through the catnip haze. "Standard Protocol One-Two-Nine. Immediate extraction with a Corpse Seeker or… hostage termination from orbit and extraction of the bracelet. No negotiations."

“Bracelet?”

She wiggled a black bracelet on her wrist. “Lazarus bracelet. A city-sized explosion could go off and it wouldn’t even get scratched.”

"Who makes the call on extraction or hostage termination?"

"Direct commanding officer. Or in their absence, the ranking fleet officer available." She chewed thoughtfully. "Why?"

"Just curious about your command structure. So if, say, a low-ranking Scrut gets captured, their Alpha makes the call?"

"Exactly. Quick and clean. Either extract them alive with maximum violence or..." She made a mushroom-cloud explosion with her fingers. “Explode the locals and extract the bracelet.”

"What if the hostage has sensitive information? Like, really sensitive. Fleet-compromising sensitive."

Her ears perked up slightly. "That's... different. Protocol shifts to Sub-Section B: information containment. The highest ranking Intelligence officer takes over and attempts to solve the problem manually… surgically. With negotiations, using Charmchain magic."

"Intelligence officer like who?"

"Like me, technically. Marshal Commandants handle information security since we can just order any planetary resistance members to do whatever… Like not to spread the information..." She paused, golden eyes narrowing at me. "Commandants act… when operational security is at risk."

"So you could make the call about a hostage who has sensitive information?"

"In theory. But only if—" She stopped again, staring at me. "What are you doing?"

“Learning,” I said. “How high are you as a Commandant?”

“Right now?” She chewed on the catnip. “The highest. Since Division 881 was the first to discover an actual vampire nest after everyone kept flapping around like clueless knobs for hours and hours, 881’s rank is number one in terms of Planetary Dominion rating. I’m 881’s top Commandant, which makes me the Commandant in charge of any future problems on this Abyss-damned planet.”

“Such as information leaks?”

“Yes.” She stared at me. “What is happening?”

I turned the tablet screen toward her, showing a paused recording timer at 15:47. "Congratulations. You’re now my hostage."

"WHAT?!" She sputtered.

"See, here's what I just learned," I said. "You're the highest ranked Marshal Commandant on Earth. You handle sensitive information cleanup. You just revealed massive operational secrets while high. And according to what you just told me, in situations involving intelligence compromise, YOU would be the officer making decisions about the hostage."

Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

"Which means," I continued, "you're now both the hostage AND the officer responsible for deciding what to do about said hostage. You can't report this without reporting yourself. You can't call for extraction without admitting you leaked everything to a local. You're trapped by your own protocols and words."

"That's not... you can't..."

"I can and I did. This recording?" I waved the tablet. "It's already uploaded to our internet. Propagating across Earth's networks. Thousands of copies by now, thousands more being made by my associates. Your confessions about executing your squad, the Admiral's indiscretions with a local, calling the Frontenachii 'the baddies', your fleet put together with time dilation against the wishes of your homeworld ... it's all documented and...”

"Delete it!" She snarled weakly, trying to grab the tablet. I easily pushed her face back and she wrapped her hands around my wrist, trembling and blinking.

"Too late. It's out there. Even if this tablet and I explode right now, the zipped up file’s already uploaded to my network of friends who will share it with their network of friends. And here's the beautiful part! Your Protocol says 'immediate extraction or termination,' right? But you can't extract yourself without explaining why. And you can't terminate yourself because... well, you're you."

She stared at me in horror. "You used my own words to..."

"To put you in a tight position, yes. As the ranking Intelligence officer dealing with a hostage situation involving massive information compromise, what's your call, Marshal Commandant? Do you report that Marshal Commandant Nexxali has been compromised and needs extraction? Or do you contain the information leak by... what was it... 'making problems disappear'? Aka lying a lot? Turning Corpse Seekers and guns off?"

"Information is more valuable than a single officer," she choked. "Operational security takes precedence over individual assets."

"So by your own protocols, you should keep quiet about this whole thing to prevent this terrible information leak from spreading?"

Her paws went to her head. "This is insane. You're using our own regulations against me!"

"Welcome to Earth, where bureaucracy is a weapon and everything's made up but the points still matter."

"Points?"

"Never mind. Earth joke. The point is, you're now super stuck. You can't report me without destroying yourself. You can't NOT report me without violating protocol. And as the Intelligence officer responsible for this decision, you have to make the call that protects operational security."

She slumped in the seat. "Which means covering this up."

"Exactly. Filing false reports. Destroying evidence. Pretending everything's fine while being held hostage by your own leaked intelligence."

"I should kill you right now," she muttered without conviction.

"But you won't. Because my death triggers the dead man's switch I've just set up. The recording gets unzipped and explodes across every network if I don't check in every few hours."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Want to test it? I'm friends with some verrrry paranoid Eastern European programmers. Setting up automated systems is kind of our thing."

She was quiet for several seconds, then laughed bitterly. "You know what the worst part is? By our own protocols, I'm making the right call by covering this up. The information security breach of this magnitude getting out would be catastrophic. Multiple commanders would be implicated. The Admiral herself. The entire command structure would..." She shuddered.

"So we're partners now? Eh, eh?” I grinned deviously.

"We're not partners," she spat. "You're a hostage-taker using information warfare, and I'm a compromised asset who has to play along to prevent widescale operational failure!"

"Just partnership with extra steps."

"I hate you. You're a horrible human."

"Fair. But you'll still help me clean my house and file a nice report to the fleet, yes?"

She nodded miserably. "I don't have a choice. By my own protocols, containing this data-leak situation takes precedence over... everything else I do."

"See? You're very good at your job. Even when your job is covering up your own compromise."

"This planet is hell," she groaned. "A special kind of hell designed specifically to torture Intelligence officers."

"Oh, it gets better. You'll need to keep me alive and free to prevent that recording from spreading. Which means you're now my protector as well as my prisoner."

Her eye twitched. "You've thought this through."

"I'm making it up as I go, honestly. You just keep giving me more ammunition like a good kitty. Gotta follow the rules of the Blood Contract, yes?"

"Yes. Ughhh… Never should have gotten drunk," she muttered. "Never should have taken this assignment. Shouldn’t have made planetfall with the rest of 881 or gotten excited about extra vampire capture outside of their compound. Should have just stayed on the ship playing cards with the maintenance crew."

"But then you wouldn't have discovered Earth's greatest weapon… bureaucratic jujitsu! Using the enemy's own weight against them."

"Stop being pleased with yourself. This is temporary. I'll find a way out and murder you!"

"Maybe. But until then, we're stuck together. The Intelligence officer hostage and her information bomb! Very poetic."

“Ah! Ah!!!” She puffed up. “This situation remains in play as long as Division 881 is first in global Dominion rankings! As soon as I stop being top Commandant I have to report that I'm compromised as my own hostage to a superior Commandant!”

“Then I just have to make sure Division 881 finds more genuine vampire artifacts… while others fail horribly,” I grinned.

“How the fuck would you do that?” She stared at me. 

“It's a secret,” I whispered with a grin.

“Wait… what the fuck. Sherlock Holmes. The map with the location close to Cascade. Vampire car parked at your house. You… you gave us the location of that fucking vampire nest?! You…?!” She choked, eyes wide and unfocused.

“A magician never reveals his cards,” I grinned.

She pulled out another catnip toy, shoving it in her mouth. "When this is over, however long it takes, I'm going to find a way to make you suffer horribly that's completely within protocols."

"Looking forward to my future torture, Commandant.”