This is the first chapter of the series, Filling the Void, a collaboration between myself and VictusLupus.  It occurs in the Beneath the Skin universe, in parallel with Bo and Dan.  We've been working on this for a couple of years now, and he's created some really wonderful characters.  There's still a bit of editing to do on the balance of the book, so this isn't going to come out on a twice-a-week basis.  I'll get it out as quickly as I can, but I have no intention to sacrifice quality for speed. So here we go!  Sit back and enjoy the ride!

***

"Hurry up, Psylla!" Targa Entrades called to the love of his life, his wife, who was still inside the house perfecting her appearance less than thirty minutes before their scheduled boarding time. "They won't hold the shuttle for us!"

“It’s not the only shuttle between here and Luna,” she protested as she walked calmly down the stairs, double-checking the buttons of her blouse to make sure she hadn’t missed any.

“No, it’s not the only shuttle,” he agreed, gently pulling her out of the house and setting the alarm behind her, “it’s just the last one today, and if we miss it, it’ll cost us a couple of hundred credits to re-book the flight.”  Watching her well-conditioned tail swish back and forth as she walked towards their house’s landing pad, he couldn’t help but think that whatever extra time she’d spent had been worth it.  In addition to being one of the great minds of their time, his wife was drop-dead gorgeous to boot.  

“You’re a Diamond Club member,” she pointed out as she settled herself into the passenger seat of their new flitter. “If you called ahead and asked, they’d be happy to hold the flight for a few minutes.”

Her husband pulled the straps of his safety harness snug around his chest and started the flitter’s motors. “True, but that’s rude.  I wouldn't mind if it wasn't our fault that we’re late.”  He checked the dashboard monitors to make sure nothing was in his way, then smoothly lifted the car off the earth and into the sky.  “You know I love your great-great-aunt Florence, but even she’s not worth a re-booking fee.”

“Be nice,” his wife said, with a tolerant smile.  “She’s practically the only relative we've got left.”

He chuckled.  “The only one I’d want to recognize, at least.  But why the hell did she have to move twenty-three light years away to some god-forsaken mudball like Galise 3?"  His wife made the little sound in the back of her throat that he'd come to recognize as her, "It's in your best interests to drop it" noise, so he shut his muzzle. 

"I hate being late,” he muttered, filling the silence. "It always makes me feel like I’m forgetting something.”

“I know what you mean,” Psylla nodded her head in agreement. “Ever since we've stopped carrying that damned diaper bag with us everywhere we go, I catch myself worrying that I’m supposed to have it with me.”

Targa thought for a moment, then looked at his wife sharply.  “Your purse.”

“Got it,” she said, pulling it out of the passenger footwell and displaying it for him with the eagerness of a game-show hostess displaying a fabulous prize.

“Huh,” he grunted, his brows still knit with concentration.

Barely three seconds later, they looked at each other and simultaneously said with conviction,  “Victus.”

Targa wheeled the car around, causing a flurry of alarms as the traffic computer re-routed other aircars to avoid their unplanned detour.  “I thought he was with you!”

“I thought he was outside with you,” Psylla shrugged.  Although they were annoyed at wasting precious minutes having to go back and retrieve him, neither parent was particularly concerned about the well-being of their child.  Varius children were sturdy and strong, and as a lupine hybrid, Victus was even more self-sufficient than most.

“Well, find him,” Targa said, “we don’t have time for this.”

Psylla sighed and reached out, touching the unique mental spark that was her son.  “He’s in his bedroom,” she announced as they touched down on the ground. “Watching his fish, I think.”

Targa left the motors running and leaped out of the cockpit, hitting the ground at a fast jog.  

good thing he doesn’t

move around much

or he’d have set off

the alarms

he thought, to his wife.

You worry that he’s too sedentary,

she thought back,

but sometimes it really pays off.

Targa was too busy to reply.  Swinging open his son’s bedroom door, he ran inside and gathered him under one arm and his luggage under the other.  “Come on, sport,” he said, nuzzling his son’s headfur affectionately.  “We’re late!”

Victus wriggled in joy at having his father’s attention. “I was saying goodbye to the fishies,” he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose under the soft fur of Targa’s chin.  “Will they be okay without me here?”

When he reached the foot of the stairs, Targa had a decision to make.  If he let go of Victus, his child might well run off to play a game of tag. He put down the luggage instead, freeing a handpaw to tap his exit code into the alarm system. “They’ll be fine,” he answered, toggling the door shut behind them.  “It’s just going to be for a couple of days, then we’ll be back like nothing had happened.  You’re not even going to have time to miss a day of school,” he said, curious about what response that statement would bring.  He would have jumped up and down at the news that he was going to miss a day of school, but his son was an altogether different creature.

“Good!” Victus said, with a grin on his muzzle.  “We’re going to study dinosaurs on Monday, and I like dinosaurs!”  While his father paused to open the back door of the cabin, Victus leaned his head back delivered his best impersonation of a deadly lizard.  “Mwaaaaaooowww!” he roared, smilling gleefully as he imagined himself as a terrible, fire-breathing dinosaur.

“What did I tell you?” Psylla said, spearing her progeny with a motherly glare.

“No roaring in the car,” Victus parroted back, as he clambered into the flitter.  “But I wasn’t in the car yet!”

“Well, you’re in the car now,” she said, reaching back to help her husband put the harness on their child. It never failed.  Whenever you were in a hurry, the child seat swallowed at least one of its straps.

Targa palmed the passenger door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side.  “Thank god Flo will only be a hundred once,” he said, strapping himself in again.  “I don’t think I could do this on a regular basis.”

***

Psylla wrapped the scarf around her head, keeping her long, elegant ears out of the wind but obscuring the beauty she’d worked so hard to emphasize.  She would have have rather gone bare-headed, but frozen ears just plain sucked. “Your nose looks a little chapped, baby,” she said, gently squeezing Victus’s small handpaw to get his attention.  “Where’s your lip balm? I gave it to you this morning.”

Victus took his hand back and searched in his pockets as his mother stretched a knit cap over his head, but he came back empty.  His father coughed discreetly, and when Vic looked up he saw that the larger Varius had one eyebrow cocked as if Vic had forgotten something.  “He’s got it!”” Victus said, with a smile.

“You asked me to hold it for you, remember?” Targa said, pulling Vic’s tube of balm out of his coat pocket.  As soon as it was in the child’s hands, he moved to the back of the car and began pulling out their luggage.  He’d made up a few minutes time on the drive to the port, but they were still pressed for time.

Vick twisted open the tube’s cap and carefully applied a small amount to the tip of his finger, just like his mother had shown him.  He touched the finger of his other hand to the gel, pushed it around to warm it up, then massaged the oily substance into his exposed nose.   Eyes bright with accomplishment, he looked up at his mother for approval.

“Shiny!” she said, grinning down at him with unvarnished affection.

Victus held the tube out to his father, but the man had his hands full. “Hold on to it, buddy. You’re old enough to keep it in your pocket from now on.  Just let us know when you lose it and we’ll get you another one.”

“I won’t lose it,” Victus promised, staring at the tube with reverence.  He’d never before had anything to carry around in his pockets, and now he had his very own tube of nose balm!   And it wasn’t just any tube of lip balm, it was grape flavored, and grape was his favorite!

“Sure you will,” his father chuckled, handing the keys to the valet and shepherding his family through the doors of the spaceport.  “Everybody loses them.”

“Or puts them through the clothes machine.” Psylla looked at her husband, pointedly, “so they can dissolve and make oily spots on everyone’s clothing.”

“That too,” he agreed, good naturedly.  “Just let us know when you need another one, and we’ll get one for you.  Any flavor you want!” he added, solely to increase his son’s joy. “Maybe next time you’ll get cherry!”

Victus practically glowed.  Cherry was his favorite!

***

Swirling colors of gas surrounded the shuttle as it began its entry into the planetary atmosphere. The blackness of space gave way to shades of white and blue, before being swallowed by the oranges and reds of atmospheric re-entry. All of the dancing colors were a spectacle which was downright irresistible to a five year old varius.

Safely in the arms of his mother, Victus stared out the window at the slowly changing colors, enraptured by the spectacular display. This was the beginning of the end to his first trip in space, and he didn’t want to miss a thing. From the way his father had grumbled about the amount of money the trip was costing them, Victus doubted they’d be doing it again any time soon. But they were doing it today, and he did his best to remember everything so he could tell the other kids about it at Show and Tell on Monday.  Thinking about the envious looks they’d give him made him squirm in delight.

Gradually, the orange fire surrounding the ship’s wings gave way to blue sky before fading into a dark grey. “I can’t see anything,” he said, straining to peek over the sill of the small window.”  His mother had told him not to kick her dress with his shoes, but how else was he going to get a better look out the window?

“We’re going through a cloud bank, honey,” she said, lifting her son up to get a better look out the window. “You know those puffy white clouds you see way up in the sky?  We’re flying through one of those right now.”

Victus’s nose left a greasy, grape-scented smear wherever it touched the window. He tried turning his head to get his eyes nearer to the window, but that didn’t really work.  Staring at things with one eye like that made his head hurt. “I can’t see anything.”

“There’s nothing to see, dear,” his mother said, patiently.  “It’s just clouds for now.” Rain drops pelted against the window with increasing frequency, and the pup had to accept that the light show was over.  He wuffed his disappointment and relaxed back into his mother’s arms.

“Are we almost there?” he asked, craning his neck to see his mother’s face. “Gaaaaa….”

“...Lise,” he mother finished for him. “We’re above Galise.”  She pressed a sequence of buttons on the monitor built into the seat back she faced. “The computer says we have another hour or so before we land, so lean back and stay still.”

The advice sounded good to Victus.  He wanted to stay right where he was, bathed in his mother’s familiar scent and wrapped in her strong arms, but the ship had different ideas.  A low rumble made its way through the frame of the craft, like far-away thunder that didn’t stop.

The bong of the plane’s alert system caught their attention. “Ladies and gentleman,” the calm voice began, “we’ve encountered some turbulence from a storm front in our path.  We’re going to try to go around it. This should pose no problems or change our arrival time, so if you’ve got a connecting flight to catch, you should be fine.  I’m going to leave the seatbelt light on, so please do not move around the cabin any more than you have to.”  There was more, but it was just noise to Victus. He was far more interested in the traveling puzzle his mother had handed him.

Before the man had finished speaking, Vic’s mother was lifting him off her lap. “Time to get back in your seat,” she urged as she searched for the ends of his safety straps.

“Aw mom,” he wuffed, the puzzle momentarily forgotten.

His mother reached through the maternal bond they shared as she tugged the straps taut across his young body.

now be good

*hug*

yes mom

*trust*

was his mental reply. His mom always gave the best hugs, even when they were just in his mind.

Targa reached across the empty seat to assist Psylla with their squirming bundle of fur. The large, dark-shaded wolf loomed comfortingly over his son as he helped get the boy settled between them. “Okay, buddy,” he said as he helped clip the restraints in place. “You heard the man. We might have a little excitement before we touch down.”

“What excitement?” Vic asked, suddenly interested.  He liked exciting things!

As if on cue, the shuttle first took one small dip, then another, then seemed to  drop out of the sky. The other passengers in the cabin erupted in surprise, heads turning about the cabin  as if they might see what caused the disruption. Vic, though, looked at the safe, comforting blue eyes of his father.  Although the boy was surprised, he wasn’t afraid.  Not as long as one of his parents was there to make him safe.

“Whee!” his father said, waggling his eyebrows at his son.

“What was that,” Victus asked, wide-eyed.

With a smile and a wink, his father replied “Excitement!”

The chime sounded again. “ We apologize for the rough ride.  This storm’s a bit bigger than we  thought, and we might not be able to go around it. Please remain calm and in your seats while we ride this out. Thank you for your patience.”

Passengers around them groaned, obviously not pleased with the news.

“See, Vic?” Mr. Entrades said. He reached his arm through the belts restraining his son’s body and rubbed his shoulders, giving Vic a quick lick and a nuzzle. “Nothing to worry about. It’s just like a roller coaster.”

“Why is mommy scared?”

“I’m not scared, dear,” she corrected him. “I just don’t like roller coasters.”

Targa looked down at his son with pride,  imagining how strong Vic’s mind must be. His son’s ability to read Psylla with such clarity never failed to impress him.  All varius children had a bond with their mothers, but each one was unique.  Victus could pick up his mother’s inner voice when she wasn’t intentionally projecting it, a fact which set him apart from many other children his age.    “Women don’t like exciting things like us guys do,” he teased, hoping to distract his son.

Quietly, Targa reached out to his mate, pushing comfort and love at her.

*safe*

we’ll be fine

Psylla looked back at him, over their child.

*afraid*

i know

*curious*

mommy

daddy

His father sent him reassurance

*protect*

you are safe son

and his mother patted his knee.

we are here sweetie

i am here too

Victus thought back to them.

you are safe with me too

Frightened or not, Psylla had to smile. Upon learning that she was going to have a boy, Psylla’s mother had rolled her eyes heavenward.  She believed that boys were genetically programmed to be difficult to begin with, but varius boys, especially lupine varius boys were nigh on impossible.  

Seeking a second opinon, Psylla  had consulted her mother-in-law on the matter.  Targa’s mother had promptly agreed, adding that with both of their bloodlines, Psylla was likely to think that she was raising a Tasmanian Devil rather than a lupine.  Both women were of the opinion that resigning her position at the Ministry of Science was inevitable, with such a wild child.

To her relief, Victus had been nothing of the sort. In fact, she thought, as she stroked his downy headfur, he’d been the perfect child.  Independent, but never disobedient; strong, yet kind; fiercely intelligent, but always - always compassionate.  He’d been so good, in fact, that she was hesitant to have another, afraid to give birth to a child who was everything that Victus was not.  But her bloodline was solid and members were expected to have at least two children to maintain their numbers. Victus being away at school for half of each day had softened her to the possibility of having another.  It would do her boy good to have a younger sibling, she thought.

Victus was nearing his age of separation, and Psylla imagined that after sharing her mindspace with a child for almost six years, having him gone would feel awfully lonely. Targa would always be there, of course, but the innocence of youth wasn’t something he could duplicate.  It was at that moment, inside a bucking spacecraft a billion miles from home, that she decided to open herself up to pregnancy again.  

Victus felt his mother’s mind ease and he relaxed.  Curious what the other passengers were doing, he looked around the shuttle’s cabin. He was short and the seats were tall, so there wasn’t much to see. By leaning forward he could see the man on the other side of the aisle from his father, and he looked like he was sleeping.  After watching him for a few seconds Victus noticed the piece of jewelry swinging back and forth beneath the man’s clasped hands, and it occurred to Victus that the man was praying.

In the row in front of Victus, a raised hand caught a passing flight attendant. “Excuse me, miss?” the man asked, “is everything ok?”

Her response was well-rehearsed. “Yes, sir. The storm is causing some turbulence. This is just another day at the office for those guys." When a particularly strong downdraft threw the shuttle  a dozen meters straight down, she added, "The office is just a little more bumpy than usual, today."

Not fully reassured, he simply nodded in reply as the attendant made her way back to the front of the craft.

*fear*

Victus looked up, surprised.  That wasn’t his mother or his father he’d felt - it was the man in the seats ahead of them!

A loud boom shook the ship and the interior lights went out. For a few seconds, the only light in the cabin came from the evening sky projecting through the shuttle’s windows. Women and men alike screamed in terror, afraid that their ship was losing power. But no sooner had the screams escaped their lips than the secondary lights cut in, casting their harsh, yellow-orange hue on the cabin.

Victus could see the scared man across the aisle duck his head between his legs as if to hide from what was happening. He could hear the panic throughout the room, and oddly enough, he now felt their distress as well.  The only people he’d ever been able to communicate with before were his mother and, through her, his father. This was a new thing!  But he did hope that it would go away quickly, because the flavor of their minds was too sour to enjoy.

?what’s happening?

Victus thought, to his mother.

His parents didn’t answer with words. Instead, more emotions of comfort and safety flowed from them. He tried to listen in on their conscious thoughts, but found that they were blocked him out.  He knew they must have been discussing “adult things”, like they were planning a surprise or talking about The S-E-X. He felt safe, but knew something was up.

Streaming confidence and safety, Mr. Entrades turned to Vic. “We’re going to be okay, son, but I’ll need you to be a big boy,” he said.

As he moved to strap himself in tighter, Mrs. Entrades also turned to Vic. “Do as your father says, Sweetie. It’ll quiet down soon.” She looked deep into her son’s yellow eyes and smiled, before giving one more kiss, nuzzle and hug.

*concern*

we will always be here

Her husband took Victus’s small paw in his own, much larger one, and echoed her concern.

*worried*

?all right?

Victus smiled back at them.  Now, it was his turn to give assurances.  The flight might be bumpy, but he really couldn’t see why the people around them were getting so upset.

*safe*

all right

Eventually Psylla had to let go of her son to pull her own straps tighter. With a sigh, she loosened them again to lean over and push the red “safety” button on her husband’s seat, making it upright and tightening the belts.  

You never pay attention to safety instructions

she chastised.

If we get in a crash

her husband thought back to her,

what are the odds that four tiny little nylon

straps are going to help me

make a soft landing?

Vic sat back, closed his eyes, and slipped even deeper into his parent’s mental embrace. Their love for him became a shield from the barrage of panic and fear that was surrounding him. But even that barrier couldn’t hold back the terror from… who?  Victus concentrated, and after a moment he saw a bit of shiny metal in his mind’s eye.  It swung back and forth on a small chain… Looking past his father to the man across the aisle, Victus saw that he was still praying over that sparkly piece of jewelry.

Victus got his father’s attention by tugging on his shirt sleeve.  “Daddy?”  he said, his voice all but inaudible in the noisy cabin.

“What, sport?” his dad said, leaning over to better hear.

Victus’ eyes were wide as saucers. “That man?”  he said, pointing his finger across the aisle, “he’s scared.”

Targa’s heart melted.  Of all the things he could have been worried about, his son’s biggest concern in life was that a complete stranger was scared, and he wanted his daddy to do something about it.  “Got ya covered, big guy,” his dad assured him, while hiding the fact that his heart was about to burst out of his chest.  Reaching across the aisle, he rested a mammoth paw on the other man’s shoulder.  They might not be able to read each other’s minds, Targa thought, but he could at least let the man know that he wasn’t alone.

VIctus felt a large bump. He thought the shuttle must have landed on the ground, but it suddenly jumped back up into the air!  Another big bump, then he was pulling against the straps like he did when Daddy hit the brakes too hard in the car.

With one more sudden bump he lurched forward…and came awake in bed.

Victus looked around the dark and uncomfortable environment at the still forms of a dozen other boys sleeping in the room.  In spite of being so close to so many other people, he felt alone. Out of habit, he reached through the mental ether to find his parents, only to have nothing return. He was alone.

“Mommy!” he began to sob. His little five-year old chest started to heave. Even louder he wept “Daddy.” Anxiety came over him and he drew his legs to his chest. “MOMMIE!” he continued to cry.

As desperation began to set in, a howl came from his throat.

From somewhere in the room the voice of one of the other orphan boys could be heard. “Oh God, not again.” Another voice chimed in. “Anybody have a shoe?” Then, “Make him shut up!” Other voices added themselves to the chorus. “For the love of god, be quiet!” “Why do I have to room with the babies?” “Get over it.”

Meekly, Vic stopped howling, but his quiet sobbing continued. It was the same dream he’d had almost every night since the shuttle crash, and each night it ended the same way, with him feeling utterly alone. Tears moistened the fur on his face as he looked around the room at a dozen hostile faces that he barely knew, and the sad truth hit him again.

His parents were dead.