#mouse fur

New South Wales Greens politician Abigail Boyd has used parliamentary powers to obtain documents detailing serious food safety breaches.  

Prologue

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Index || Next Chapter

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The half sun of the Harvest Planet’s night shone dimly in the sky, never fully covered or set on one side of the sphere. Deep shadows stretched over the ground as the fields rippled softly in the quiet breeze, the silence unbroken in the abandoned villages nearby.

A wave of heat caused the air to warp, and in the deep red of the sky, a blemish appeared in the form of a small, single-person spacecraft. It was soon followed by another, and another, speckling the sky in a neat V formation. At the front of the formation, the primary ship made the smallest tilt of the wing, and the fleet began to descend. The squadron landed heavily, far louder than their flight had been, and a few of the less experienced pilots placed half their landing gear in the precious fields.

Slowly, each ship hatch opened, and the pilots emerged with bare faces, respirators and helmets unnecessary on a planet with such a stable atmosphere. The formation leader, a small tortoiseshell cat, beckoned his squadron over with a wave of a gloved paw while signaling for a silent approach. They moved half hunched with cautious footsteps, some hovering a paw over the weapons on their hips and glancing around with wary eyes. Just as they entered the boundaries of the small village, the ghost town came alive with battle.

At the center of the chaos between clashing swords and fists meeting faces, a massive dark tabby pinned a chestnut-colored tom to one of the abandoned buildings. “Oakheart” the tabby growled. “How dare you land your ships here? This planet is under the control of the Thunder Fleet!”

“After tonight, Tigerclaw, this will be just another River Fleet farming planet!” the bracken-colored tom spat back.

A warning yowl came from the shore, shrill and anxious. “Look out! More River Fleet ships incoming!”

Tigerclaw turned to see the sleek River Fleet vessels fast approaching, their landing gear far more advanced than Thunder Fleet ships. Without needing to hover or even slow, the River Fleet airships lowered their wheels and tucked their wings, turning into something more akin to an off-road vehicle. The engines hadn’t fully stopped before the River Fleet pilots were opening the entrance hatches and stepping out of their seats with swords at the ready. Even as the vehicles spun, the River Fleet pilots could orient themselves and hop off their ships before they drew to a halt. The battle divided as these ships collided with the nearby buildings, their dented exteriors showing that the River Fleet made a habit of this technique, and that their ships could withstand it again and again.

The dark tabby glared at Oakheart, pinning him harder against the wall as it trembled from the impact of a ship. “You may have more versatile ships, but the Thunder Fleet has the best ground weapons. You and your soldiers do not belong in this settlement, and I’ll see to it you’re removed!”

A desperate scream of a Thunder Fleet she-cat rose above the clamor. A wiry River Fleet tom had pinned the brown pilot flat on her belly. Now he had one paw pulling her head back, and the other pressing his blade to her throat.

Tigerheart heard the cry and let go of Oakheart. With a growl, he charged forward and tackled the enemy pilot to the ground and away from the she-cat. “Quick, Mousefur, run!” he ordered, before turning back to the River Fleet tom who had threatened her. Mousefur scrambled to her feet, wincing from a deep gash on her shoulder as she pushed herself up and raced away.

Behind her, Tigerclaw spat with rage at the River Fleet, sliced open his nose. Blood blinded him for an instant, but he swung forward regardless and landed a fist to the side of his enemy’s skull. The River Fleet cat cursed and struggled free.

“Tigerclaw!” The yowl came from the squadron leader, standing out among the crowd with the silver emblem on his chest, distinct from the near-solid dark green of every other squadron member. “This is useless! There are too many River Fleet soldiers!”

“No, Redtail! Thunder Fleet will never be beaten!” Tigerclaw yowled back, hurrying to Redtail’s side. “This is our settlement!” Blood was welling around his broad muzzle, and he wiped it from his eyes and face with the back of his paw impatiently, scattering scarlet drops onto the cobblestone paths.

“Thunder Fleet will honor your courage, Tigerclaw, but we cannot afford to lose any more of our soldiers,” Redtail urged. “Bluestar would never expect her squadrons to fight against these impossible odds. We will have another chance to avenge this defeat.” He wet Tigerclaw’s amber-eyed gaze steadily, then raised a paw into the air with a baton in hand. Faint blue sparks of electricity danced around the length of the baton, barely visible against the deep red partial eclipse.

“Retreat, Thunder Fleet! Retreat!” he yowled. At once, his squadron struggled away from their opponents. Spitting and snarling with arms and weapons raised defensively, they backed toward Redtail. For a heartbeat, the River Fleet cats looked confused. Was this battle so easily won? Then Oakheart yowled a jubilant cry, raising his own weapon into the air. As soon as they heard him, the River Fleet pilots raised their voices and joined their captain in caterwauling their victory.

Redtail looked down at his squadron. With a flick of his paw, he gave the signal, and the Thunder Fleet cats turned back towards their ships and disappeared into the overgrown fields.

Tigerclaw followed last as he hesitated at the edge of the fields and glanced back at the bloodstained battlefield. His face was grim, his eyes furious slits. Then he too retreated towards his squadron and their ships.

Deep into the night, in a bare observation deck overlooking the planet beneath the space station, an old gray she-cat stood alone with her hands behind her back, silent. She was dressed in long, loose garments of cream colored fabric accented only by a dark green trim and a four-point star-shaped pin on her lapel. The cream fabric ended at her elbows in long, drooping folds, but a dark green undershirt covered her forearms.

A small tortoiseshell she-cat emerged from a dark corner, her pawsteps quick and soundless. She was dressed differently from the old she-cat and the pilots, her uniform a similar cream white but with tighter fabric and a large dark green cross emblazoned on the back and left shoulder. Her gloves and boots matched the color of the cross, and her pants had several pockets to pair with the thick belt around her waist. She fiddled with one of the pouches on the belt idly, clasping and unclasping the latch repeatedly as she waited to be noticed.

The gray cat dipped her head in greeting. “How is Mousefur?” she meowed.

“Her wounds are deep, Bluestar,” answered the tortoiseshell, settling herself next to the older cat as she looked out over the planet. “But she is young and strong; she will heal quickly.”

“And the others?”

“They will all recover, too.”

Bluestar sighed. “We are lucky not to have lost any of our pilots or ships this time. You are a gifted medic, Spottedleaf.” She tilted her head away from the planet and towards the stars. “I am deeply troubled by tonight’s defeat. Thunder Fleet has not been beaten in its own settlements since I became leader,” she murmured. “These are difficult times for us. The season of newleaf is late on numerous other farming planets, and there have been fewer recruits for the squadron. Thunder Fleet needs more pilots if our home is to survive.”

“But the year is only just beginning on the primary settlement,” meowed Spottedleaf gently, following Bluestar’s gaze and staring up at the swath of stars glittering in the dark sky. “There will be more recruits once greenleaf comes.”

The grey cat twitched her ears and rolled her broad shoulders in a stretch. “Perhaps. But training our young to become pilots takes time. If Thunder Fleet is to defend its territory, it must have new pilots as soon as possible.”

“Are you asking The Stars for answers?” meowed Spottedleaf gently, following Bluestar’s gaze and staring out at the swath of stars glittering deep in space.

“It is at times like these we need the words of ancient soldiers to help us. Have The Stars spoken to you?”

“Not for some time, Bluestar.”

Suddenly, a shooting star blazed over the expanse of the observation deck, nearly striking the space station as it passed. Spottedleaf’s tail twitched, and the fur on her neck bristled.

Bluestar’s ears prickled, but she remained silent as Spottedleaf continued to gaze outwards.

After a few moments, Spottedleaf blinked and shook her head before turning to Bluestar. “It was a message from The Stars,” she murmured. A distant look came into her eyes. “Fire alone can save our planet.”

“Fire?” Bluestar echoed. “But fire is feared by all! How can it save us?”

Spottedleaf shook her head. “I do not know,” she admitted. “But this is the message The Stars have chosen to share with me.”

The Thunder Fleet leader fixed her clear blue eyes on the medicine cat. “You have never been wrong before, Spottedleaf,” she meowed. “If The Stars have spoken, then it must be so. Fire will save our planet.”

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Index || Next Chapter

Thistledown AU Mousefur aka Mouse Fur!

Mouse Fur—small dusky brown molly with amber eyes.

Siblings: Fleet Foot (littermate), Pale Tail