[Vfw-times] Story: HEA: Not Going Gently

[Joanne Hunter]

I wasn't going to post this; was only writing it to get a scene out of
my head, but I got bored. Fear viqsin boredom, for it doth unleash
Stories.

CCed to other maillist as per request from universe founder. As I'm not
actually subscribed to vfw-times, I won't catch any replies that are to
that list only (Assuming the list software even allows it to go
through...), so if you want to flame me, that's the place to do it. :)


----

HEA: Not Going Gently
by Joanne Hunter


She never felt any remorse.

Everyone always knew that they'd faced genocide. After all, there had
never been any plans on the part of the Nacelites to ever stop. After
the disappearence of Boss Hoss, the whole of the community had seen
nothing but disaster waiting for them.

When the first transport ships arrived noone had been prepared for them.
Furs had to simply watch in horror as Nacelites gathered up the youngest
and sent them into the transports. The first young deermorph who tried
to protect his fawn had been Forfeited right in front of everyone there,
and noone else had attempted to resist after that.

What made it worse was when they discovered what the reason for their
removal was.

The Miren slave ring.

Not that anyone expected the self-appointed Planetary Governor to keep
by the terms of his deal with Boss Hoss, of course. %^& had never been
thought of as the most trustworthy Nacelite by any stretch of the
imagination. But this time he was going very much against his word.
Directly defying the sentient species that he pretended so much care
for.

So she responded in kind without any pity.

Despite her Furry leanings, she'd maintained some of her contacts with
the Human Preservation Front bases in the Antarctic regions. They'd been
happy to deliver the nessicary arms to the Furry habitats, including the
latest Earth redesign of the Nacelite unidirectional laser - or as
several Freedom Fighters raised on 50's pulp scifi had called it, the
"freeze ray." Easily the most effective weapon the Front had against the
Nacelites, it was being mass-produced now in former research outposts up
and down the Graham Land penninsula in Antarctica, just south of Tierra
Del Fuego. No Nacelites could assault those outposts even With their
thermal units, and any that dared to approach never got past South
Georgia, what with the heavy-duty unidirectional laser cannons in place
on the Shag Rocks controlled from Grytviken - assuming they even
survived the terrifyingly windy weather conditions that had gone so far
as to have borne the legend of the Flying Duchman.

So she and several others had gone to the Falklands, the accepted
go-between point between the Front and the remaining colonies of
resistance on the planet, and managed to get their paws on several of
the handheld units, as well as instructions for maintence and recharge.
The Front didn't even ask much for the weaponry - only for the guarantee
that the Furry colonies would remain committed to their campaign against
the Nacelites, and the possible future use of a captured Nacelite
transport.

Which they had. The next transport that came down never made it back up.
The liquified remains of the Nacelites on board were tossed into the
ocean, and the transport itself frozen, then shattered, then its pieces
buried before any investigation could take place. For all the Governor
would know it might have just crash-landed into the ocean.

They managed to hold off four more raids on their settlements in this
fashion before she got bold. It was all well and good to be removing the
arms of the Nacelite slavery operation, she'd said, but it was about
time they took on the head.

Further contacts with the Front got them access to the _West Virginia_
stash. _West Virginia_ was an Ohio-class submarine formerly of the
United States Navy that had carried several Trident ballistic missiles.
It had somehow escaped the notice of the Nacelites, and its cargo was
now in the posession of the Front at Grytviken. One reengineered RV was
delivered at the Falklands to the Furry rebels, and their plans were
made.

And thus the next time a transport came down they were to eliminate the
Nacelite passengers and then take the transport back up to the so-called
Planetary Governor's lair. There they would set the nuke, retrieve as
many of the captives onboard that they could find, then head back home.
The blast would cause an electromagnetic pulse that would certainly wipe
any and all of the Nacelites onboard, and with the information gathered
from those Nacelites friendly to their cause they could locate the
existing slaves and liberate them.

But one particular Nacelite had not been entirely friendly.

And so here she sat before a panel of Nacelites and fellow Furries while
they debated. It had been a deal put together between the Furry colonies
and Governor %^& that any crimes would be dealt with by a mixed panel of
Furry and Nacelite; this way they could both show their cooperation with
their new cloud masters and also show their own willingness to deal with
their own 'criminals.'

It was obvious from the beginning what her fate was to be. Governor %^&
had sent down an order from on high - she was to undergo Forefiture.
Right in front of every last Furry in the area, to break their spirits.
He wanted to make an example of the one who had so defied him.

In that sense, the findings of the judicial panel were a formality. But
the Governor also made it clear that the Furries were to be made to
believe that this was a decision made by their own folk as well; all the
better to break their spirits.

And so when the head of the panel, a Jaguarundi Furry, rose to speak,
the words could be easily predicted.

"Anna Rosemary Valentine, you are hereby judged guilty of sedition
against the Human Extinction Agency and the Nacelite Governor of Colony
Earth, and are sentenced to forfeiture, sentence to be carried out
immediately."

He seemed sad as he spoke, knowing that the matter was out of his paws,
that it was either she suffer this fate alone or with the whole of his
people.

"Do you have anything you wish to say before sentence is carried out?"

"Yes," she replied.

"There is a poem that, while the whole of it is not entirely well known,
is very well known by its closing lines. I wish to recite this poem for
the Furry community before my forfeiture."

She then turned to face the Furries gathered around to witness her
sentencing. How ironic, she thought, that %^&'s insistence on her being
an example would work for her. If only he knew the magnitude of his
error.

Oh well, she thought. That was his poor fortune.


"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Thought wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, Rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my friends, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage. Rage, against the dying of the light."


"Is this all?" one of the nacelites asked.

A final tear ran down her cheek, as she stared out at the group for
several seconds, trying to lock eyes with every last one out there
before nodding.

The Nacelite tasked to carry out sentence immediately began, and she
felt herself fall over suddenly onto all fours as her body reshaped
itself the rest of the way, her body shrinking in size, her feet
lengthening and becoming digitigrade, her hands becoming paws, until
finally, where once Anna Rosemary Valentine had stood, there remained a
small gray fox, posessed of her mind still, but no longer of her body.

And each Furry went home that day, remembering the young vixen, and
thinking to themselves that her sacrifice to defend their livelihoods
would not be in vain.

They would rage against the dying of the light.

And thus the Furry Resistance Front came to be.

----

-- 
/"\ Joanne Rosemary Hunter 
\ / (jrhunter.at at at.menagerie.DOT.tf) {http://menagerie.tf/~jrhunter}
 X <--(ASCII Ribbon Campaign - No HTML Mail or postings!)
/ \ Of course I don't know how interesting any of this really is, 
    but now you've got it in your brain cells so you're stuck with it. 
       -Gary Larson