“Our tale begins forty cycles ago, in the Zard system, at a small logging colony on planet Fora, named Sans.”

  *crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch*

  The well-packed snow gave way loudly with each step as two men pushed through a sudden blizzard—one of many that formed without warning in the mountain regions. One of them spotted a carved cavern, weathered and jutting from the snow-covered ground.

  “Come on! There’s a cave over there—we can get out of the storm till morning!”

  The two trappers trudged through the icy gale. They had taken a contract to hunt wolvrens—a wild dog roaming the dense mountains near Sans. Difficult to trap but worth a fortune, wolvrens were prized by the wealthy and by syndicates who trained them into loyal, nearly unkillable guard dogs.

  Let’s just say, they didn’t find what they intended.

  “Ready your rifle,” one man said, pulling out his torch. He drew a metal cylinder, flicked a switch, and a blazing beam cut through the darkness. “Hey, Qwarz, make sure to check the back.”

  The man nodded, slowly checking the area.

  The cave stretched like a vast hall, tapering down to a narrow opening—about the size of a large man. He swept his light across the stone, catching on a massive rock beside the gap.

  “Naza! Come give me a hand closing off this opening in the back!”

  Qwarz shouldered his rifle and dropped his pack beside the entrance.

  “Ugh—put yer back into it, mate! One, two—heeeeeeave.”

  *Grrrrkkkkk--Grrrrkkkkkk...!*

  Together they rolled the stone into place, sealing the rear cave entrance. Exhausted, the men returned to the front to collect their bags, then ducked into a covered alcove carved deeper into the cave wall.

  Naza stowed his torch and retrieved a brown cube with a metal-inlaid bottom. He flicked a switch. Slowly, the cube began to glow—an orange ember spreading until it gave off a dim light and comforting heat.

  Qwarz pulled a small rod from his pack, snapped it at the joints, and reshaped it into a frame stand. He set it over the cube, then placed a pan and a kettle.

  The two weary men worked in silence, preparing a meal and a pot of tea to fight the frostbitten cold.

  “Bah—bloody bad luck, I say. Not a single wolvren track or scat since we came to this gods-forsaken void of a planet.”

  “Qwarz—you’re the one who didn’t want to wait for spring. I did warn you about the sudden blizzards here,” Naza said, handing him a thermal blanket and a mug.

  “Eh—off with you. I wouldn’t have come if the money wasn’t good.”

  He handed Naza a plate and set one aside for himself.

  “You do know we wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t gambled all your money away, right?” Naza pointed out as he opened a can of meat, thumping it until a gelatinous rectangle dropped onto his plate with a splort.

  He pulled a stag-handled blade from his belt and began slicing the vacuum-packed block of mystery meat and gel, tossing a few pieces at a time into the pan. The slices sizzled in their own juices, and he stabbed each one to flip it. Soon, he was devvying the browned pieces between them.

  The once-unappetizing slimy rectangle now smelled heavenly, the aroma of frying meat filling the cave as Naza cooked their meal.

  “Sod off with that. You’re no better with your wild nights of lady-boys,” Qwarz jabbed back.

  Naza flicked a slice onto the man’s plate before making his own. He shot Qwarz a sharp glare at the remark.

  “I believe that’s my business, love.”

  “Aye—just as mine is mine. So let’s re-plan how we’re going to make up lost time tomorrow, bag these doggos, and get off this gods-forsaken forest of a planet.”

  Naza tossed an apple-like fruit to his partner to go with the meat, then turned back to prepare his own meal.

  “I can agree with you there. Try again tomorrow.”

  They both sat in silence, enjoying a hot meal and the warmth of the CinderBlock that cooked the food and warmed the cave. The whistle of the wind was the only sound they heard. One man leaned over to look around the alcove, watching the sideways flurry of snow whipping by the mouth of the cave.

  The two sat in silence, wrapping their blankets tight around them.

  *Grrrrrrrk—Grrrrrrrrrk!*

  A deep, wet grind of stone dragging across stone rippled through the cave floor. Both men jolted upright, blankets thrown aside, moving with practiced, silent speed as they snatched up their rifles.

  *Uurrrrrrk—snort!*

  They exchanged a look—tight, uneasy.

  “I think we have company…” Naza whispered.

  “Aye—what gave it away, mate?” Qwarz muttered. “The boulder dragging, the floor shaking, or the bloody beast noise in the back?”

  Naza shot him a sharp glare, but said nothing.

  “Don’t give me that scowl, ya pansy. C’mon. Let’s see who our guest is.”

  Naza rolled his eyes but stayed close, rifle up, covering Qwarz as they crept toward the sound.

  Qwarz edged around a jut of stone, sighting the spot where they’d wedged the boulder earlier—and froze. His whole body locked.

  Naza bumped into his back, stopping mid-step.

  “Oh… fuckin’ hell.”

  Qwarz’s voice was barely a breath.

  “Naza… quietly go to my bag. Get a couple of stasis spheres.”

  Naza didn’t ask questions. The dim cave light caught his partner’s blue skin turning a ghostly white. He swallowed, nodded once, and slipped backward into the dark, moving as silently as he could.

  Moments later, he reappeared, easing the spheres into Qwarz’s trembling hand.

  Qwarz wasn’t looking at him. He was staring past the rocks—at the two cub Grizmongers shambling through the rear opening.

  Each one was the size of a full-grown Earther grizzly.

  The first cub yawned, rising onto its hind legs and sniffing curiously at the air. The second paced in a slow, anxious circle at the narrow gap, then lay down and tucked its muzzle beneath its folded paws, grunting softly as it quickly lost interest, going back to sleep.

  “Naza…” Qwarz whispered, eyes wide, voice thin.

  His partner’s reddish, fractured skin had faded to the same pale shade as his own. They both knew what the presence of cubs meant.

  “…Go get the remote. Call the ship. The mum can’t be far.”

  Naza didn’t reply. He slipped into the shadows once more.

  Left alone, Qwarz tightened his grip on the rifle, the stasis spheres rolling nervously in his other hand. His pulse hammered in his ears as he weighed his options—trying to think of any scenario where he didn’t end up dead.

  He quietly took a knee. Gave the sphere a light squeeze—

  *snick*

  A light hum emanated from the device as he flicked it toward the still-standing Grizmonger.

  The creature looked down at the shiny sphere curiously as it rolled across the ground, stopping as it gently bumped into the cubs hind paw. It plopped onto its hind side as it playfully batted the tiny ball with both paws—easily distracted and content.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  The sphere hummed louder and flashed blue.

  Mid-play, the Grizmonger froze upright as if it had turned into a mannequin.

  Its sibling cracked an eye at the sudden stillness. It rose, padding across the cold cave floor on all fours, nudging its frozen, unmoving sibling—nothing. The Grizmonger cub looked around, its gaze settled on Qwarz.

  The man swallowed hard, his throat feeling like it was crushed in a vice-like grip.

  The creature straightened—slow, deliberate—lifting onto its hind legs. Bits of light from the cave entrance showed off its deep purple and black striped coat. Its long, sinewy tail, covered in the same dark purple fur and black striped pattern and tipped with a paintbrush tuft of fur at the end, flicked back and forth in a threatening manner.

  It opened its gaping maw, paused for a moment to lick one short, stubby tusk, then roared—a guttural, deep, resounding roar that reverberated off the cave walls and rolled through the tunnels far below. The booming echo slammed into Qwarz, rooting him to the spot and sending a cold sweat prickling down his spine.

  The beast stretched and twisted its body with the roar, slamming its front paws onto the smoothed rock ground as it finished. It glared intently at the man, then lunged for him.

  Qwarz snapped out of it, taking quick aim at the creature.

  *Please don’t hit the core…*

  He silently prayed as he took his one good shot.

  *Crack!!!!*

  ***********************************************************************************************

  “Come on, you piece of junk…” Naza mumbled, standing at the mouth of the cave.

  The wind had finally died down, the snow tapering off as he waited impatiently for the remote beacon to power up. His red, ungloved hand slapped the side of the remote, cursing the screen to finish loading.

  Lights and glyphs flickered to life across the panel as the systems engaged, the ship responding as he remote piloted it from where it sat camouflaged on the outskirts of the small logging colony they’d docked near.

  The ship shimmered as it became visible as it made quick work of the distance. Its landing boosters roared to life as it dropped down, kicking the snow back up, mimicking the previous blizzard that had ended minutes ago.

  Naza flicked the controls, spinning the back end of the Corvair toward him as the cargo ramp dropped to the ground.

  That’s when he turned—and froze.

  The crack of Qwarz’s rifle echoed from deep within the cave.

  Naza pocketed the remote and grabbed two antigravity bracelets from Qwarz’s pack—the same place he’d taken the stasis spheres earlier—then tossed the rest of the equipment and supplies into the back of the Corvair.

  He flicked the switch on his rifle, lighting the torch mounted to the barrel, and ran toward the sound of the shot, weapon up and ready.

  ***********************************************************************************************

  Qwarz had hit the creature square in its muscular, boxy chest. He watched in horror as the wound continued to ooze thick black fluid, refusing to clot or repair itself the way it should have.

  “Awe, bugga…” Qwarz muttered. “I fuckin’ hit the core…”

  “Qwarz! Are you okay?!” Naza called, hurrying toward the rear of the cave, rifle raised.

  “Aye, I’m fine—hey! Point that thing away, ya idget!”

  Naza lowered his rifle, barrel to the ground, and tossed a bracelet to his partner.

  “I assume we’re bugging out and taking this one, right?”

  Qwarz nodded, catching the bracelet and slapping it onto the tree-trunk-thick front leg of the Grizmonger cub. He pressed the crystal inlay, causing it to glow as the cub gently lifted, floating a few inches off the ground.

  “Aye. Let’s bug out before the mum gets here. She can’t be far.”

  Naza shouldered his rifle, glancing at the downed beast.

  “Want me to bring this one? The hides for these are worth a small fortune…”

  Qwarz was already moving the stasised cub toward the front of the cave, as gently—and as quickly—as possible.

  “Are ya daft, mate? This live one’s worth four times that hide, and I’m not keen on meeting dear mum to explain the situation. Dead men can’t spend credits—leave it.”

  Naza nodded and moved to help his partner guide the other cub through the cave.

  They paused.

  The ground beneath their feet began to tremble—slow at first, then steadily growing at a frightening pace. It took Naza a breath longer to realize what it was. Qwarz knew immediately.

  “Fuck!” they said in unison, both breaking into a run as they shoved the floating cub up the ramp.

  *Boooooom—WRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEHHHHH!*

  The banshee shriek spurred them faster. They both knew that sound.

  Mum.

  Rock rained down across the cavern floor as the cubs’ mother crashed through the wall. She stopped short, staring down at her paws—at her cub lying unmoving. She nudged it, whimpering.

  Nothing, she smelt the gunpowder, the other people, and her other cub.

  As quickly as her grief stalled her, rage reignited. She tore through the cave.

  The men didn’t see it. They didn’t need to. They didn’t want to.

  Qwarz slammed a button on the wall, an energy field snapping into place to secure the cub for storage. In one fluid motion, he flipped the lever beside it, activating the hydraulic ramp as Naza hovered the ship, the snow blistering in before the hatch locked shut.

  As Qwarz strapped into the copilot’s position, both men glanced at one of the monitor feeds. Dust poured from the cave mouth. Before they could lift off, a massive shape—nearly as wide as the opening itself—lunged at the hovering craft. A clawed paw dug deep gouges into the underside of the hull, teetering the craft.

  “Buggas! That’s one pissed-off mum!” Qwarz barked as his hands moved over the console to level the craft out. “Mind putting a move on it, mate, and getting us outta here?!?”

  Naza clicked his tongue in frustration as he worked. “Feel free to pilot anytime. I’m just trying to make sure we don’t appear in the core of a sun somewhere, or trapped between realities when we break atmosphere!”

  Lights and glyphs flashed wildly across the console as Naza worked faster, punching in coordinates.

  The moment the Grizmonger hit the ground, the ship tore free—burning hard into orbit—as it flashed out of sight.

  The forest grew still.

  The Grizmonger sat where she had landed, her massive frame sagging beneath a weight far heavier than exhaustion. Her gaze lingered on the empty sky where the craft had flashed out of sight, the loss of her last offspring tearing at her soul.

  The forest fell silent with her—as if time itself had paused.

  Then came the cry.

  A lonely, broken shriek echoed through the mountain forest. Birds burst from the treetops as the sound carried, rolling down into the valley below.

  In the colony of Sans, heads turned skyward as the cry reached them—sharp, mournful. The young stared in wonder, the old filled with dread, knowing what the sound was.

  Then it faded.

  *Like her offspring.*