Fosters. Australian for piss in a really big can: Chapter One.
Thunderous reports washed over the vixen as she pulled herself up on her arms. The pads of her paws getting pierced by bits of broken liquor bottles and shards of the mirror that she was thrown into. Quickly she pulled herself up to the bar top and looked through her rapidly swelling eyes at the scene.
The lynx, with bits of the vixen's shredded and worthless dress clenched between his fangs, was emptying the rather large clip of his SMG into her savior as fast as he could. The look of the savage confidence drained away to concentration on his face as the mouse closed in from the far side of the saloon. Drawing shots from the other patrons, he still was rapidly gaining ground despite the bone shattering impact of the slugs slamming home and gore spraying out of the exit wounds.
In the space of two seconds, several things happened. The gun went "click-click-click-click-click" And the westernesque patrons, hearing this took off, shouting and trampling each other's buttless chaps in a hysterical rush for the exit. And the mouse backhanded the gun with the arm that wasn't hanging by a bit of muscle and fur. Neatly tearing it, the twitching trigger finger and most of the lynx's paw off at the wrist. Sending it clattering and splattering across the dirty wooden floor.
The half naked vixen watched with astonishment as the mouse locked his bloodstained fingers around the lynx's throat, just under the jaw bone. She stumbled around the bar, struggling to make some noise come out of her abused voice box. But all that would come out was a strangled wheeze.
Kicking his legs and liberally splattering himself with blood from his spouting stump, the lynx was raised by the mouse's working arm effortlessly. Using his good paw, the lynx pulled out a knife that was sheathed at his waist.
Almost quicker than those vixen's eyes could follow, the lynx whipped the blade up and then down. Keenly slicing through the tendons in the mouses hand. Then as he dropped from the mouses strangle hold, he buried the goodly portion of steel into the mouse's throat just above the collar bone.
Xeentar let out a startled yelp and then a cry of anguish, hurrying over to the mutilated mouse who was trying feebly to pull the knife out with his now crippled hand.
The lynx hit the ground running. He sprinted the short distance to the exit, retrieving his gun with paw still attached on the way. Stopping at the he door, the lynx shot a reproachful glance at the mouse slowly writhing on the floor. And then he was gone.
Xeentar fell to her knees by the still form of the mouse, weeping openly. In shock she examined the flesh wounds. They pitted and cratored the rapidly cooling fur. Fur that just this morning stood on end when she mentioned that she was going to the human's world.
"Oh Dim, why did you have to follow me this time?" She said, tears rolling down her muzzle. A droplet fell on the mouse's eyelid which flickered open. Xeentar jumped a little then touched his face "you're alive..." she managed to whisper.
"What are you still doing here?" the mouse interrupted. "Assassin has to go all the way back to the Professor to get that arm fixed. Run with the time I've bought you!" He urged in a cracking voice.
"Wha-what are you talking about Dim?" Xeentar asked in a confused voice.
"Project two, I don't have much time." The mouse replied. "I helped you escape the lab, but I can't help you anymore. The lab men will be here soon. Run, Project two! Please!" the mouse urged. lines of pain creasing his face as his eyes filled with tears.
"Quit talking like that Dim," she pleaded. "You're scaring me!" the mouse tried to reply but coughed out a great gout of blood instead.
Xeentar was just about ready to panic when the storeroom door bursts out in shower of splinters.
"Ow! Dammit, I think I broke my paw! Xeen! Are you here?!" A familiar voice rang out, high pitched with fear and worry.
Xeentar looked up from Dimbolo, and must to her surprise, saw Dimbolo!
Soaking wet and clad only in a pink terry cloth bathrobe, Dimbolo limped out from the wrecked door frame. Clutching a somewhat sudsy, high caliber auto shotgun.
Looking back down to the dying mouse, Xeentar called out "Babe! I'm over here, come quick!"
Dim walked at a brisk limp to Xeen, animatedly rambling the whole time. "Are you okay love? I was in the shower when your bio-sensor went off, why do you insist on these silly excursions? Dimension hopping is dangerous hon," reaching Xeentar, he crouched down and put his arms around her middle. Gently cradling her between his damp knees.
"Are you okay?" he repeated. "Humans are very unpredictable and if they hurt one hair on your adorable head I'll genocide every last God Damned one of them..."
Xeentar affectionately entwined her tail with Dimbolo's and learned back into the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
"Hon, I know, but..." she started.
"But nothing! I care about you so much... Ooo! If you ever got seriously hurt I don't know what I'd do..." Dimbolo hung his head over her shoulder and nuzzled her neck.
Xeentar briefly returned the nuzzle and continued." You don't understand, Dim. Quit babying me and open your eyes."
Xeentar felt the sharp intake of breath and the spine tingling shoulder that passed through her mate. After a long moment, he spoke with an eloquence that only he could muster.
".... Duh'Wha-?..." Dimbolo uttered.
"Yes dearest," She patiently explained. "It's you. Or he looks like you. I thought he was you."
Dim whispered on reflex. "Don't touch 'im." then shook his head. "Wow, that's a trip, he looks like the humans got hold of him. Poor guy."
"It gets weirder." Xeentar said. "Apparently there's another fox that looks as much like me as you do him. And it wasn't humans. It was one of our kind."
"Unheard of!" cried Dim. "There hasn't been violence between our kind for centuries."
"I know. But I warped in, stepped out of the storeroom and I saw you..." she pointed at the still Dimbolo look alike. "And a kitty dressed for combat going at it full bore." Xeentar lifted one of Dimbolo's paws up through her cleavage and placed it high on her left breast.
Dimbolo felt the shallow, bloody gouges.
Xeentar continued, "I jumped on the cat to distract it from you," Xeentar felt the muscles in her paramour's face move as he smiled and gave her a little squeeze. Xeentar grinned briefly and finished. "Faster than I've ever seen anyone move he bit my chest, my armatech top got the worst of that. Then he threw some kinda... I dunno, mental blast? At me that I'm sure would have killed me me."
Xeentar motioned at the broad swath of splintered furniture and tore up floorboards ending at heavily cracked brick wall. "But you, well, he jumped in front of it. Just the backlash of it hit me like a semi truck and threw me across the room."
Dimbolo cleared his throat. "Wow, my kinda guy. Too bad he got shot up."
"No, that's another thing. He was pulling total Terminator moves AFTER he got aerated. It was this shanker;" she pointed at the hilt sticking out of the mouses neck. "what finally took him down.
There was a long moment of silence between them, but then the sounds of sirens in the distance could be heard over the distorted melody of ~Boot Scootin' Boogie~ that was piped in over the bar's radio.
"We should probably go." Xeentar commented off-handedly.
"Well 'I' want to take him home. At least there he'll get a proper burial." Dim said resolutely.
"Yeah..." Xeentar agreed.
Xeentar helped Dimbolo drag the corpse into the storeroom where she pulled from behind a shelf what looked like a large, clear plastic bathtub mat with a morass of colored wires and circuit boards running through it. Xeentar laid it on the ground then stood on it.
"See you in a few hon. Home, Authorization 4-5-1." Xeentar said. Her form shimmered, then distorted as it faded out.
Dimbolo pulled the corpse onto the pad and said "Organic material transport. Home, Authorization 4-5-1."
There was a click and a whir, then a computerized voice said "Import of foreign material not advisable. Confirm?"
"Whatever, you contraption. Just do it, okay?" Dimbolo said irritably.
"Confirmed." the pad replied. The body distorted, and then faded out.
Dimbolo stepped on the pad said "Home." he said. "Then get yourself back there. Authorization 4-5-1." Dimbolo's form shimmered, then distorted as it faded out.
After a moment there was a click and a whir and the pad said "Commencing self warp in 5... 4... 3..."
"Wait!" Xeentar's voice cried out. An exact copy of Xeen stepped out from behind some boxes. The only difference being that her light blue dress wasn't torn all to hell.
A click, a whir. "Authorization required, request denied. 3... 2... 1..."
"Wait, wait!" stammered the vixen desperately. "Authorization 4-5-1?!" she blurted out in a rush.
There was a click, a whir and then a long beep. "Confirmed, Xeentar."
So what didja think? I dont think I sucked too bad considering this was my first with no education in the writing field. By the by, I fixed that whole "no paragraph" problem. Damn Im good. I am now well on my way to becoming a fine HTML master of the universe.
