Fuzz and the Plague

Pressed against the backdrop of three amber suns, the enemy’s Crescent Winged Fighters cast a menacing shadow upon the peaceful villagers below. As the aircrafts streaked across the seafoam green sky, shrieks of terror whipped up like wildfire. Planet Antora trembled beneath the weight of Black Foot’s impending invasion.

Pax’s outdoor market abruptly shifted from a bustling center of commerce to a frenzied hub of fear. Carts with coral and white umbrellas toppled over, releasing a river of yellow Pekun fruit that quickly transformed into an obstacle course for the marketplace dashers. As shoppers and vendors crisscrossed in a hectic race toward safety and loved ones, they trampled over the perfectly round rinds, releasing the honeysuckle scented juice from inside. Purple petals shook off the gray stemmed zello flowers that were repeatedly brushed and crushed by the skittish crowd. Chaos ripped through the Pax market and disrupted everyone’s lives except for two nomadic visitors. 

Dripping in Pekun juice, Sasper Ash, who went by Fuzz, wiped off her military boots with a cloth from a tousled outdoor restaurant where everything from seats to beets were colored to match Antora’s beautiful sky.

“I’m starving. What do Antoran’s eat anyway?” asked Fuzz.

“They don’t eat, they drink,” replied Plague, Fuzz’s warrior friend. 

“Don’t eat? They must be savages,” said Fuzz, sarcastically.

“Who are you calling a savage?” asked Plague. “They’re vegetarians.”

“Yeah, well, I bet the plants think they’re savages,” said Fuzz, giving Plague a tender pat on the head.

“Don’t disrupt the fur,” said Plague, smoothing his dark brown coat with his claws. 

“All I see on the menu are questionable drinks, like this green liquid,” Fuzz said while examining a glass. She put the substance under her nose and said, “Ugh, this is awful. It smells worse than moldy cheese.”

Landing firmly at Fuzz’s stained boots was a hooded creature with amethyst eyes. She gazed into Fuzz’s young, yet weathered face, and exclaimed, “Help me! I’m a visitor to Pax and have nowhere to go! Where can I flee to safety?”

Setting down the glass and extending her gloved hand, Fuzz asked, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Luna from the neighboring planet of Genomia. My ship’s supposed to arrive tonight to take me home, but how can that happen now?” she asked, as she rose to her hind hooves.

“It’s nice to meet you, Luna. I’m Sasper Ash, but everyone calls me Fuzz because I watch over this part of the galaxy. And, this is Plague,” said Fuzz.

Luna’s eyes widened like a silk hydrangea that Fuzz saw in a botany book she used to flip through when she called Mars home. 

“We’re trained space soldiers, and Plague has been genetically engineered to release a fatal dose of the Bubonic Plague into his enemy’s veins. We’re a lethal team. You’ll be safe with us on Antora,” said Fuzz, smiling. 

“Will you have help?” asked Luna with her eyes shifting from Fuzz to Plague.

Fuzz and Plague looked at each other and laughed.

“Help? We haven’t had help for the last two years,” said Fuzz, smirking. “Help would be nice, though, but no one else is coming. Our army is short staffed at the moment and there are too many planet invasions to attend to at the moment.”

“Is this funny to you? We need more help! You can’t defend us on your own. You’re too young to accomplish anything and he’s a rodent,” said Luna as she backed away from Fuzz. “We’re doomed. We’re all doomed!” 

“Wait, just give us five minutes to find some food, then we’ll show you the damage that we can do,” said Fuzz before Luna stormed away.

After inhaling a few massive bites of barbecued Quandi meat that tasted like wild game, she tossed it to Plague who knocked it away with his fluffy paw.

“No thanks, I’m vegan,” declared Plague. “Where did you find that meat anyway?”

“I swiped it from that carnivorous Azlanian over there,” said Fuzz, nodding her head toward the winged centaur.

“That’s the Fuzz I know,” said Plague, “Guardian to all, and thief to some. 

Walking through a covered section of the marketplace, Plague noticed the overhead lights grow bright then dim with a corresponding buzz. 

Quickly locating Fuzz, he ran to her and yelled, “Don’t touch that!”

“What?” Fuzz asked with a mouth full of food. 

“We don’t know what that could do to your power,” said Plague. “Your gloves aren’t a toy, they’re your main source of protection. You need to take care of them.”

Fuzz looked at her sleek gloves that fit like a second skin. Electrical currents moved across them in neon waves. 

Gut-wrenching screams ricocheted through the blue mountains as Black Foot’s mothership, Gibbeous, hovered in front of the largest amber sun.

“It’s time,” said Plague, extending an arm.

Nodding in agreement, Fuzz lowered her fist and bumped it against Plague’s soft paw. 

Plague hopped into his hollowed out cove in between Fuzz’s jetpack and they rocketed towards the mothership.

Black Foot stood in front of his panoramic view of Pax with dim gray protective gear securing his monstrous frame. His ebony foot was left exposed as a testimony of his conquests.

Rhythmic metal steps approach him from behind.

“Master, your servants are in position and ready to kill and plunder Antora’s ancient crystal supply at your command,” said Zagan, Black Foot’s most trusted advisor.

“This pleases me,” said Black Foot. “These crystals are the last ingredients I need for my eternal potion that will give me everlasting life without the need for blood. My black foot is eternal. Soon, the rest of me will reach perfection too. My raids and plundering of planets have led me here—my final destination. Here, my blood-filled body will perish as my veins nurse a better life source.”

“Yes, my master,” said Zagan with a slight bow. “Your perfect plan is about to come to fruition.”

“The Antoras are the oldest living creatures in the galaxy, each soul living up to 1,000 years,” said Black Foot. “Beneath the planet’s crust are ancient crystals that grant them their millennium lifespans. The crystals, along with the invaluable resources I plundered from other planets before destroying them, will make me a god.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Zagan, behind Black Foot’s back, in front of the window peering into the soon-to-be abyss.

“Plague, sing our theme song,” said Fuzz as she roared through the air toward their destination.

“Oh, right, I forgot that I’m your endless source of entertainment,” replied Plague with a deadpan expression.

“It helps calm my nerves before battle. You know that, Plague,” said Fuzz, squinting toward the sky. 

“Give me a little percussion?” asked Plague.

Tapping on the jetpack with her metal infused gloves, she found the back beat for their song.

“Our Fuzz is a martian, a Space Force spartan

She’s leaving her legacy on the universe’s galaxies

Our Plague is a troubled, tormented soul

He’s about to bite Mr. Black Foot and make him look like ebony soot,” said Plague.

“You changed the last line,” Fuzz declared.

“‘His bite will make you feel more than cold,’ is too nice for what I want to do to that—” said Plague, getting cut off. 

“In the future, let’s stick with the original theme. In my opinion, Black Foot doesn’t have a place in our song until he’s gone for good,” said Fuzz.

“Gone for good, now that sounds like a good lyric!” exclaimed Plague as Fuzz descended on the peak of Mount Frideswide. 

At 12,215 feet, it’s the tallest mountain on Antora. Below the tree line, it’s bathed in the velvet blue leaves of Absalom trees. Their coral flowers released a sweet aroma that covered the peak like a fragrant blanket. Mount Fridewide was the perfect location to oversee the mothership that cast a dark shadow on the Crescent Winged Fighters below. 

“This ship is massive. It must be half a mile wide,” said Plague. “Could it be any shinier? It’s like looking into a mirror with the glare of three suns.”

“Okay, we get it, it’s bright,” said Fuzz, putting on her helmet.

“Well, not all of us have helmets to protect our eyes,” said Plague with a huff, “So, what’s the plan, boss?”

“We have one bomb left from our last mission,” said Fuzz. “The Crescent Winged Fighters are operated by bots controlled by the mothership. So, we need to enter the Gibbeous and bomb the Control Room. That will stop the bots from destroying and plundering the planet. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” repeated Plague in a mocking tone.

“That’s what I said,” replied Fuzz with a sidelong glance.

“How do we access the mothership?” asked Plague.

“We’re going to land on top of it’s blindspot,” said Fuzz. “I’ll give you the tools you need to remove the exterior planks so we can enter the outermost room. Then—”

“Then, I bite at any sign of life I see,” finished Plague.

“Exactly,” replied Fuzz.

“You got it, boss,” said Plague.

“While you clear the path, I’ll determine the location of the Control Room,” said Fuzz. “Then, we’ll set the timer on the bomb. If we encounter Black Foot along the way, I’ll handle him.”

“Are you sure?” asked Plague. “One bite and he’s mine.”

“No, I need to do this for my parents and the life he stole from me on Mars,” said Fuzz.

“You know, he took my loved ones too,” said Plague. 

“You’re right,” said Fuzz. “Let me start the fight, and we’ll end it together.”

“Deal,” said Plague.

Landing on top of the Gibbeous, Fuzz reached into her bag and pulled out a wrench and screwdriver. 

“Here,” said Fuzz, handing them to Plague. 

“I’ve always loved taking things apart, especially things I hate,” said Plague as he loosened bolts and screws to remove the panels. 

“I can’t believe the outermost room is a restroom and I landed in the urinal,” said Plague, wiping his hind paws against the wall.

“You’ve landed on worse,” replied Fuzz.

“Yeah, every time I’ve landed on you,” said Plague.

Peeking through the cracked door, Fuzz saw the hallway was clear. 

“Let’s move out,” said Fuzz.

Plague used his lethal weapon on every living creature they encountered. The Black Death permeated through his victim’s bodies so fast that they didn’t have time to take a last breath.

Watching a comrade die by Plague’s bite, one of Black Foot’s minions surrendered before getting injected with the fatal disease. Fuzz questioned him about the whereabouts of the Control Room. The enemy soldier spilled valuable information before Fuzz put her electric palms on his chest, leaving him in a stunned state. 

As they approached their final destination, several armed guards blocked their path.

“I’m gonna need your help with this situation,” said Plague. “Are you fully charged?”

Pressing a button on her suit, Fuzz replied, “Ready.”

With open palms, Fuzz pressed her fingers forward and sent a full electrical charge towards two of the guards, slamming them against the wall and knocking them out. Plague went after two other guards. The fifth one kicked him against the wall, leaving him a lump of fur on the floor.

Shifting her lightning fingers toward the last enemy standing between her and the Control Room, Fuzz prepared to release her weapon.

Before her bolts reached the guard, he fired a round at Fuzz. The guard hit his knees, as did Fuzz. Simultaneously, they toppled over and the fight was done.

“Fuzz. Fuzz?” asked Plague, limping towards her motionless body. 

Shaking her, Plague said, “Get up, Fuzz. We have to finish this. Get up, little buddy.” 

Laying his head to her chest, he listened carefully. Then, he stood on his hind legs and heartily slapped her across the face.

Fuzz moaned.

“Good, you’re alive,” said Plague. “What’s your damage?” 

“The suit stopped the bullets, but they knocked the wind out of me,” said Fuzz. “They also knocked my lights out for a bit.”

As Fuzz regrouped, Plague examined how they could penetrate the massive metal door leading into the Control Room.

“We just need the eyes and fingerprints of one of the guards, then we’re in,” said Plague. “But, I think the better option is to enter through the vent so we can get in undetected.”

“Good plan, boss,” said Fuzz, gently patting Plague’s head.

“Don’t ruffle the fur,” said Plague as he smoothed his coat.

“Who are you trying to impress?” asked Fuzz, smirking.

“Every prairie dog has his standards,” replied Plague with a wink.

“Would you look at that? Black Foot is conveniently standing in front of the window by himself,” said Plague, after they ventured into the Control Room by way of the air duct. “When my bite makes his body match his foot, I’ll be able to die a happy dog.” 

“Well, your day of reckoning has arrived,” said Fuzz. “Let’s start in the back of the room and work our way forward.” 

One by one, Plague sank his teeth into a Black Foot minion as Fuzz quietly used her palms to stun anyone he missed.

Then, the only people left were Black Foot and his top advisor, Zagan. 

Looking at each other, Plague said, “Let the showdown begin.”

“They’re not going down without a fight,” said Fuzz, breathing heavily. “You and I both know they’re the masterminds behind this operation. Even though their armies have fallen time and time again, they somehow survive and rebuild.”

“Not this time,” said Plague, confidently. "It’s our turn to rise.”

Looking at Plague, Fuzz nodded and extended her fist.

Plague raised his furry paw and bumped it.

“I’ve got Black Foot,” said Fuzz.

“And, I’ve got Zagan,” replied Plague.

Standing up, Fuzz shot bolts of lightning at Black Foot that sent him flying backwards into the wall. On all fours, Plague scurried toward Zagan and bit his ankle only to find his thick suit was impenetrable. Zagan aimed his gun at the rodent, but Fuzz electrocuted him before he could pull the trigger. 

Plague ran toward Fuzz as she aimed another bolt of electricity toward Black Foot. Her shot was deflected by the force field he erected around his body. Black Foot fired from inside the transparent barrier. Fuzz and Plague ducked behind a booth before it hit them.

“Remove the bomb from my backpack,” Fuzz commanded.

Plague followed her instructions without hesitation.

“Set the timer for 10 minutes,” said Fuzz. “I’ll keep working on Black Foot.”

“Aye, aye, cap,” said Plague.

To weaken the force field, Fuzz shot electrical currents to various parts of the clear dome. When the currents connected, they created weak spots. Black Foot fired back relentlessly, making it difficult to weaken the force field for an extended period.

“The timer’s running,” said Plague.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Fuzz said, ducking behind the control booth as bullets zoomed around them, creating holes in the technical equipment and exposing wires. Sparks flew around them, so they scooted closer together.

“With one hand, I’ll weaken the field with my electricity. With the other, I’ll shoot lightning to deflect the bullets. Then, you’ll jump in the weak portion of the force field and bite his throat. His face mask doesn’t fully connect with his armor, so that's your best target.”

Plague nodded and said, “Tell me when.”

Fuzz nodded and created a lightning storm in the Control Room.

"Go!" exclaimed Fuzz.

Plague raced toward Black Foot and was in midair when he felt a burst of pain in his left hip. He flipped into the force field, but was badly wounded. Looking outside the dome, Plague was stunned to see Zagar pointing a gun in his direction. While defending Plague from Black Foot, Fuzz missed Zagar’s bullet. 

Watching her best friend being shot midair, created an untamed rage in Fuzz. Unable to run to Plague’s side, a righteous anger surged through Fuzz’s body and she let out a primordial scream that she didn’t know she possessed. Feeding off her energy, she made the bold move to insert her fingers into the sparking equipment to pull out any wires she could find. 

“I hope this works,” Fuzz said to herself. 

Connecting the exposed wires from the control booth to her electrically charged gloves, sparks flew and waves of energy moved across her gloves. The room’s lights suddenly brightened, then dimmed. Red lights flashed as alarms sounded.

“I’m done with you,” Fuzz said as she sent a blast worthy of a thousand electrical storms into the force field causing it to falter. The energy knocked Black Foot to the ground. His neck rested beside Plague’s frail body. With his front paws, he inched toward Black Foot and sunk his teeth into his exposed skin.

Fuzz moved the electrical storm toward Zagar and struck his control booth. Without seeing him, Fuzz was unclear if she had hit her target. Glancing at the timer, they had one minute to escape the mothership before it blew. Fuzz continued the lightning strikes in Zagar’s direction as she scooped up Plague’s rag doll body and sprinted toward the panoramic window overlooking Pax and it’s residents in hiding. Facing her palms toward the window, Fuzz shattered the glass with her electric force and leapt out as bullets ripped through the air. 

With their silhouettes pressed against the amber suns, the Gibbeous exploded, along with the Crescent Winged Fighters that were scattered upon Antora’s pale blue hills.

“We did it, Plague,” whispered Fuzz. “Buddy, we did it.”

Pressing her ear against his chest, she listened. 

Then, she slapped him across the face.