Star Kitten (55 page)

But that didn’t seem
very likely any more.

About two weeks after the refugees had said goodbye to their
loved ones digging defenses for a last stand against Earth troops;
Kscheeech and his fleet were scattered throughout the galaxy
hearing almost every day about Earth military units “driving
steadily and meeting dwindling resistance from ‘pirate forces’
below the planet surface.” IPN broadcasts were not
government-controlled. If that’s what they were having reported to
them from Earth commanders on “Rijel 12” as they still called it,
then it must at least be partially true. With immense dread,
Kscheeech and the other ships hiding throughout the galaxy listened
in on the IPN hourly news updates
around the clock.

For days the
news had been very bad. Earth tank commanders wearing helmets with
lamps on them to light their way in the dark were being interviewed
saying things like, “We’ve cornered the last of the enemy—probably
about twenty thousand of them by our latest estimates—in a
defensive position inside a massive cavern about a mile below us
right now.” Later yet another young Earther officer, speaking
through a lensed sealed helmet to an embedded reporter assigned to
his unit would describe it like this: “Our scouts are reporting we
have one more cavern to clear tomorrow and barring any more sneak
attacks by the pirates or ambushes; we may be able to confront this
last defensive position in a few days. We’ll use this cavern here
as a staging area.”

Little did that poor young Earther officer know, but his
brigade was parking its tanks and setting up camp right on top of
the very cavern floor that the Nausties were about to detonate… but
to the crew onboard the
Chengshi
, it seemed like it was almost all over now. Maybe a week or
so, and their home planet would be finished. A few more days of
reports like this followed, while they awaited pensively the news
they’d been fearing all along… that Earth forces had been
victorious and all resistance had been eliminated.

But that news never came! Something else happened instead.
Something incredible! Something so phenomenal that for hours and
hours one night the news broadcasters were at a loss on how to
accurately describe it. Was it a natural disaster or was it devised
on purpose by intelligent beings? On the
Chengshi
, Kscheeech sat at his command station watching the
broadcast with nearly a hundred crewmen crammed onto the bridge. No
one was quite sure what had really happened! And the excitedly
concerned reporter on television was certainly just as
baffled….

“
Good evening, I’m Patty Persian, and this is the IPN Galactic
News,” said the stunningly attractive Pumalar female news
anchorwoman. “Breaking news tonight from the renegade planet Rijel
12, as imbedded reporters on the ground with Earth forces have been
sending desperate messages from the surface telling us, at least in
one communication, quote—‘
hell itself has cracked wide open
.’”

Her eyes widened as she spoke the quote. Then Patty continued,
“Volcanic eruptions from the center of the planet have engulfed and
obliterated thousands of Earth troops and their equipment; with
nearly two thousand already reported dead; and another three
thousand missing or unaccounted for at this time.” She spun her
body and turned her head to change to a different camera view as a
green screen backdrop behind her began to show live video feed
straight from the planet surface. The scene was so incredible and
awe-inspiring that the whole bridge of the
Chengshi
erupted in gasps and shocked epithets, like “holy
shit look at that!”

Patty Persian
was standing in front of the screen with her beautiful teased up
fur and curvy figure, posed like some Earth super model in a
bikini. But behind her was live streaming broadcast views of
volcanic lava erupting from holes and craters all over the surface
of “Rijel 12” as they still called it. The planet looked like its
entire core was puking up fiery death from below. Kscheeech said to
himself, “My God… poor bastards-sss….”

Patty Persian
continued her broadcast from her alluring pose, adding, “The death
and destruction have been cataclysmic… spelling the apparent end of
the Earth invasion. Earth transports and medical evac units have
been frantically pulling mangled and badly burned bodies from the
chaos; but new eruptions seem to be occurring almost every hour;
pinning down rescue units and thwarting relief efforts. According
to Earth sources within the military command structure in orbit
around Rijel 12, this is no longer an armed reconnaissance mission.
It is now merely… a search for survivors….”

Weeks passed; and the nearly fifteen thousand refugees, escort
troops, and tunnelers slowly made their way to the surface
and—hopefully—
rescue
….

They trudged along
through miles and miles of tunnels, with tunnel teams working ahead
of them digging out passageways for them to access large caverns
long abandoned or devastated by combat. Sometimes they’d break into
tunnels which had yet to have been explored by the invaders.
Sometimes they’d find reservoir tanks filled with filtered safe
drinking water. Sometimes they’d even find food! But still they
marched on, rarely taking breaks for more than a day.

Weeks before, the
volcano had certainly done its job, blasting out most every tunnel
leading into that last big chamber vacated by the Cave Lion tribe.
And when the floor of that cavern they were camped on disintegrated
in a horrendous blast of explosives; fully a thousand Earth troops
and fifteen tunnel tanks with their crews plunged to a fiery death
in the magma below. The escaping gas and compressed steam from the
rushing glacier water set off a massive eruption a few hours later;
which penetrated through miles and miles of tunnels and elevator
shafts creating a geyser up to the surface and spitting up tons of
deadly molten lava. Thousands more Earthers trapped in those
tunnels or elevator shafts were incinerated to death or horribly
burned.

The explosions compounded themselves too; because other
underground aquifers and impacted glaciers were subsequently freed
and released to waterfall into the opened volcanic shafts, creating
even more volcanic eruptions. The debacle continued throughout a
full day and halfway into the next as Earther evacuation teams
searched in vain for survivors or extracted whatever mangled
disfigured bodies they could find. Within a week, the first of the
Earth transport ships had turned back for home; and within another
week, the whole mission was scrubbed. It was indeed a miracle. The
enemy were finally leaving… and New Australia was
saved
!

In the
aftermath, Nicky Ciancio and the refugees were left to try and make
their way to the surface and escape the carnage below. To their
knowledge, the rumbling and horrific explosions behind them were
either part of the detonation of the cavern floor, or the explosion
of the volcano. They weren’t exactly sure. But the only thing they
focused on as they journeyed up toward the surface was to stay away
from any heat, hot elevator shafts, or tunnels. Basically their
survival strategy would work if they just avoided being engulfed in
exploding lava—and while they were at it—evaded any remaining Earth
forces while they spiraled upward toward the surface.

Never mind that they really had no idea what they’d do even if
they did make it to the surface. For instance, they had only a
rough idea of
where
they’d
pop out once they got to the Service Tunnel; and they could never
really know just whether or not the Earth army had been defeated or
if they’d emerge through the floor of the service tunnel only to
find it still occupied by enemy troops. If that occurred they’d
have to fight their way to the surface; and then God help
them.

Basically they
just really didn’t know what fate had befallen their comrades and
loved ones below. The truth was that behind them, the volcano had
eventually exploded upward, just like Cuttlefish had predicted; and
blown straight up every possible tunnel, elevator shaft and
volcanic vent wiping out such a large portion of the Earth invasion
force, that their commanders ordered a complete withdrawal. The
Naustie army, by way of comparison, had survived for the most part;
just as Solomon had assured Felina they would. But sadly over
twenty thousand of them were still trapped below miles of rock and
debris from the exploding volcano. If they even could dig all the
way out, it would take months. After they slowly ran out of oxygen,
food and water: they’d start to die.

The refugees
had little knowledge of this either. Sure, folks like Felina knew
about the plan to protect the army behind massive cave-ins so that
the volcano blast would not consume them; but they didn’t know
exactly ALL the details either. They just slogged forward, day
after day, with wailing crying children, mewing kittens, squealing
piglets, and angrily-hissing Zorg hatchlings. Comparatively
speaking though, the Spleef youngsters actually found the journey
to be quite fascinating. To them it was like a big game… they
practically made a daily adventure out of it. That's why Felina’s
little daughter loved playing with them.

Meanwhile,
Nicky Ciancio was relentless, pushing his followers to the limit
day after day after day. Like an old brutal Sicilian mafia Don of
old-time New York, he coldly admonished his followers, “Eh… yuuu
wanna die down heeuh… in the daaahk? Den yuuu juss sit thayuh on ya
freakin’ keestah and bitch about how freakin’ tiyud ya ah. Yuuu
sayin ya feet huhut? Yeh, my freakin’ feet huhut too. Hey…
everybody’s freakin’ tiyud. So jusss quit ya freakin’ whinin’. Get
up and get goin’ goddamit. Ain’t nobody cummin back down heuh to
git ya. Come ahn, weuh goin’… with oah without ya!”

Once again, Solomon
had chosen just the right man for the job. Nicky Ciancio simply
would not let his followers give up on themselves. And no one…
absolutely no one would DARE cross him. Nicky was practically sixty
years old by then; and he was still just a big scary bastard
whenever he wanted to be. Hair had long turned silver; but never
moved, even with sweat beading up on his face. Covered in dust at
times, his hair just mysteriously never became disheveled; even
after he slept (which was rare). His voice was bellicose and
powerful. Unless he laughed at the end of a sentence or when making
a comment, you really didn’t know if he was about to either hug
someone or if he was about to break their neck. He appeared so
intimidating and had so much energy and courage—Solomon could not
possibly have chosen a better leader for them.

Felina adored him. And Nicky loved her right back. He’d get
frustrated and say something like, “I swayuh… deez freakin’ morons…
sometimes Fel…
che
cavolo
!” Felina,
though exhausted from weeks of marching, still found enough energy
to giggle and pat her husband’s trusted old friend on the back with
her paw. One time she said, “Nicky… you are wonderful. Just a
wonderful man. My husband was so wise to trust in you. We’d never
survive alone. You know that don’t you?” Nicky sighed humbly and
shook his head muttering, “God I love ya, Fel. I really couldn’t do
diss without ya.” Then he looked over to Felina’s daughter who was
cavorting about with some Spleef youngsters nearby. “And yuuu too,
Stah Babee.
Ti amo
Bambino
!” Then he
gave out an uproarious laugh that echoed down the tunnel for
several moments. “Star Baby” looked up at him with a delightful
trusting smile and said it right back to him in adorable child-like
Italian, “Tee-aah-mo Nicky!”

She came over and hugged his huge legs for a moment while he
gave out a big, “Aaaaahh, dat’s preshusss, ain’t it? Just
preshusss.” But not even five minutes later, he was right back to
cracking the whip, yelling at his tunnelers, encouraging those who
were moving along briskly, and of course nagging those who were
dawdling or piddling too much with, “Eh… let’s get a freakin’
move-on, ya
Goombahs
.
Cum-on!” Felina just laughed. No wonder he’d lived so long, that
Nicky. His heart was just too big to ever stop beating. Oh, he was
a slave-driver no doubt. But only Nicky Ciancio could have made
fifteen thousand demoralized, exhausted, and near-starving war
refugees push themselves so hard.

Without his hard driving leadership, Lord only knows how
things might have turned out. Heck, they really didn’t even know
whether it mattered any more. After all, what if Earth had
already
won
the war? And how would
they find out it, if that’s indeed what had happened? On the
surface it was likely chaos, and on the other side of the planet’s
interior it was likely nothing but death and fiery destruction. If
they only knew about the miraculous victory and the success of
Cuttlefish’s volcanic eruption! They just kept on tunneling and
walking… tunneling some more and then walking several miles
further. They’d rest for part of a day on occasion while tunnelers
cleared a path for them—then they’d hop up a few hours later to do
it all over again. Progressing slowly, they climbed higher and
higher—moving steadily closer toward the surface where they would
most assuredly face an unknown and dangerous future.

Three long weeks passed since their departure from the cavern
below. Then one day scouts came back to report to Nicky Ciancio
that they’d broken into the Service Tunnel. “Holy cow!” exclaimed
Nicky to the Spleef scouts reporting in. “You mean we finally made
it? Wow…
Grazie a
Dio
! And
wuttuhbowt food wayuh-howzzuz… did ya find annee? Ya know, I got a
lot of stah-vinn fohks down heuh!” The Spleefs informed him that
they had indeed found the remnants of a food warehouse; but it had
been demolished by Earth missiles. “
Mi fa cagare
!” he exclaimed in frustrated Italian. But
nevertheless he thanked his loyal scouts and told them to get some
rest… they’d be needing it.