Date Point: 14Y 6D AV
Gao, Lavmuy Spaceport
Fighting still raged below in the streets. Huge parts of the city, in the distance, still blazed; Emberpelt had long since abandoned anything but the most basic preservation. Nearly everything within line of sight of the Spaceport itself, outside the walls surrounding it, was gutted and a hollow shell. The sky, stretching out into the distance, was the dull leaden grey of smoke and low clouds, one blending into another, and providing only the mercy of not being able to see very far.
Nalai stood, watching the city burn, unable to turn away…unable to bear to continue watching. Below, she could see Humans everywhere, bustling. From this height, they looked like tiny crawling Ecki, little hive-minded bugs that were a food staple for many of Gao’s smaller birds, and which bred in enormous numbers if left alone with a food source. They look just like that she thought. Scurrying everywhere.
She had no idea how long she’d stood there. It didn’t really matter, though. Nothing really ever would again. Almost worth it to…just step out into the air, into the soft caress of oblivion and simply end the pain.
“Oh, hey. Sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was up here.” The voice came in the odd flatly cultured accent of one of the funny arm-mounted translators that the Humans used.
“It’s okay,” she replied quietly. “You can be up here too. I don’t mind.” She didn’t, really. She didn’t really mind….much of anything.
The human came and sat next to her, covered in dirt and the detritus of combat, clad head to toe in that strange clothing that all of them seemed to wear, an eye-bending swirl of chunky shapes that weren’t really anything but almost looked like something if you didn’t look closely. She took a quick look, and realized as the human took its head-covering off that the human, too, was female.
“Not really a great view, I suppose,” the human said, setting her head-covering thing down. “This must have been really something to see once.”
“It was,” Nalai said softly. “I was born in the Females’ commune here. On a clear day, you could see all the way to the mountains. We were always so proud to live near such a major spaceport.”
“Are you with the Mothers going to the refugee camps on Cimbrean?” the human asked.
“No. I’m not with them,” Nalai said. “I don’t…think they would welcome me.”
The human gave her an odd look. Had she been a Gaoian, Nalai would have said she was being assessed, but human body language was a mystery to her. “Is that why you’re up here?” she finally asked. Nalai just duck-nodded, and let her eyes wander across what she could see of her home.
“I’m not a Mother. Not really,” she said, finally.
“Well, while we’re up here, I need a smoke. You mind telling me what I’m looking at that we can actually see from up here?” the human asked her.
Nalai said nothing, thinking. I suppose it can’t hurt. Maybe she’ll leave me alone if I do. She pointed with one paw at the river just barely visible some distance away and began to tell the human about the riverfront, the grand park on the other side with the Lavmuy Arboretum at one end, the hill beyond that was an artisans’ hub, and found herself talking about everything from buildings to food. Her voice finally trailed off, breaking as she realized that none of the things she was describing were probably even still there, and that most of the people she had known that lived there, worked there, played there…were probably all dead now. She found her thoughts returning to why she had come up here originally.
“I was so proud to be a Mother,” she said simply.
“That was important to you,” the human replied, nodding.
“It really was. It was the most important work I’ve ever done.” A sudden sob caught her throat unexpectedly. “We were a small commune…more of a family, really. My truemother was here. We worked with the Clans, mostly Longear and Goldpaw. I hadn’t gotten my data implant yet…all of the Mothers had one, it made our work so much easier, and I wanted to prove I could do the job without one, even with a cub…”
“Being a parent is hard,” the human said. “I have no children myself, but I can only imagine.”
“We raise our cubs differently than you, I think,” Nalai replied. “The Mothers all take turns watching the cubs and teaching them. I…wasn’t here when…you know.”
“When the implanted were droned?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to you?” the human asked her gently.
“Every…..everything was on fire, and there was shooting, and males were everywhere, and nobody knew what was going on…it was like everyone just suddenly went crazy, and then I came….I came back to….” she trailed off again, unable to continue. The human said nothing, but simply lit another cigarette.
Finally, she resolved to continue. Someone had to know.
“They killed the cubs,” she said, finally. “And I wasn’t there to protect them.”
“What do you think would have happened if you had been there?” the human asked her quietly. Outside, the sun was going down, and the sky a brilliant display of colors Nalai couldn’t see past her own memory, the memory still fresh in her mind.
“I would have died too, I think,” she said. “I would have shielded the cubs with my own body, and my Sisters would have cut me down as they did them.” The human nodded again.
They sat in silence, the human finishing her cigarette. She finally stubbed it out, grinding the last glowing embers against her boot heel and putting it in her pocket.
“You are not alone, you know,” the human said. Nalai looked at her…the first time she’d truly looked at anything at all in days.
“You are not alone. We are here, and we will not leave you,” the human repeated. [“We are your Cousins, and we do not leave family behind.”] she said in accented Gaori, not through the translator.
Nalai sat and thought about it, looking down again at the human soldiers running to and fro on errands only they knew the purpose of. She moved away from the perch she had intended to be her last in the world, to the arms of a Cousin, and keened in loss.