The air and water alike were filled with the sharp chut-chut-chut of the helicopter’s blades, followed by the loud pops of shooting bullets piercing through the surface of the water. Though she was pulling all the evasive maneuvers she knew, Qellsala also knew that it was only a matter of time. In addition to the helicopter, there were four reinforced boats stringing electrified metal nets enclosing her in an area that was pulling tighter and tighter. She was trapped and she knew it, but she was not going to roll over.

She lashed her tail and dove deeper. Perhaps if the nets bumped up over some rocks or tangled in some coral, she could find a small opening to squeeze through. She would get burned, but it was better than the alternative.

Qellsala was still cursing herself for getting cornered like this, and she winced as she forced herself into a tight spiralling turn to evade another dart that nearly grazed her. It would take more than one to down her, but she had already taken two and with every dart, her reflexes grew weaker. Adrenaline was burning off the drugs in her system, but it could only do so much. She imagined another dart or two would end the chase.

Her ribs pressed painfully against her skin as she dodged another. She was painfully thin and her children were starving, and the food scarcity was what had driven her into shallower, more dangerous waters to hunt. And now, for that choice, she would face the horrors that awaited her people when caught, and her children would starve to death if another predator did not pick them off first.

Another sting pierced her side, between two scales, and she winced. Her hand moved quickly, taloned fingers batting the dart away barely a heartbeat after it pricked her, but she could already feel the heaviness in her muscles growing worse.

There was no way out along the bottom of the ocean. The nets were weighed down with magnetic lures that drew to each other, separating her from the sand. There was only one way out now, and it was a foolish one. But she was not willing to go limp and allow them to take her from her babies. They still needed her. Jumping the nets would put her in direct range of their guns, but it was the only chance left. So she lashed her fin and rocketed towards the surface.

Qellsala rarely ever broke the surface of the water, so the sensation of air against her sensitive scales was jarring enough to make her grit her teeth. But she had good speed and strong height to easily clear the barricade of small boats. Each of the boats carried two humans, and one laughed as he levelled his gun on her. “Fish thinks it’s a bird now.” He pulled the trigger and Qellsala’s body spasmed as the dart lodged in her belly. One of the few places on her body not coated in protective scales. A second dart followed immediately after and her muscles seized before she even hit the water on the far side of the barricade. Freedom was at her fingertips, but she could no longer move to claim it and a despairing wail died in her throat with a gurgle.

Another pop and a net of cables tangled around her body. Qell felt like it was unnecessary, with every muscle in her body seized and unresponsive.

“Agent Tanner reporting in. You would have been impressed by the leap this thing just made, General. Cleared the boats.”

“Did it get away?” the response was staticky, it hurt Qellsala’s ears.

“Nah, we pumped it midair, it’s not going anywhere. Looks like a decent specimen. Adult female, with a lot of armour plating. Took five rounds before it went down, and it was a demon to tag.” The nose of his gun prodded Qell’s floating form and she winced and tried to muster the strength to growl at him. “A little on the scrawny side, though. Probably what lured it into the shallows.”

“Good work, agents. Get it loaded and back to the ship. The sedatives won’t last long in its system and in my experience, the more it takes to down them, the faster they burn through it, so don’t linger. I don’t want any delays.”

“Of course, General; you’ll have a new prize back at the mothership within the hour.”

“Just don’t be late.”

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The conversation did not include Qell, but she hated that she was the focus of it, discussed like reporting about a catch or new hunting grounds, not a person who had been attacked unprovoked and cruelly, and was about to be ripped from her home.

If she could move, she would have snapped at their hands as two of the humans dragged on the net and hauled her free of the water and into the boat. The metal belly was foreign and unpleasant as it chafed against the exposed skin of her underbelly and the scales that rippled down her tail and upper torso. She instantly despised the sensation, but could offer nothing more than a groan in protest.

Some of her dark hair fell and plastered to her face, and her chest heaved as she fought for breath. Her people could breathe air, but she was unused to it and was struggling to adapt. The drugs keeping her paralyzed were not making breathing any easier either.

Unlike the fleshy land walkers holding her hostage now, most of Qellsala’s body was covered in scales. Deep red scales that looked almost bloody-black in the deeper waters she typically dwelled in. But up here in the sun, they looked almost crimson. They were also dulled due to the paralysis, but if it wore off, she would show them the proper colours of her scales and also what she was capable of. Though her belly was pale skin, along with her face and the inner grooves of her arms, the rest of her body was protected by the plated armour her scales offered. Her fin was wide and flat, and good for propelling her through the water. A second fin ran in spiked curves down her spine and the back of her tail, and her ears were webbed and protruded from the sides of her head like sensitive satellites that drew sound toward the dark cavities in her skull. Her eyes glowed a piercing green that offered a golden flash in the dark, and her scaled hands ended in sharp talons that could cut through even the thickest of scales or blubber. She was a predator, but now she had been reduced to helpless prey and she loathed it.

It was especially insulting that they were ignoring her. They were busy hauling in the netting that had been used to wall her in earlier. Once it was sorted, the boat engines revved noisily and they began motoring through the water, further away from where Qellsala had come and further from her den and her kids. Her heart squeezed with the fear that she would never see them again and that her folly may be their demise. She closed her eyes and slumped with a sigh. At least she was far enough away that so long as they stayed deep, the humans should not be able to find them.

A decade ago, Qell knew almost nothing about humans except that there were people who lived on the land and walked on two tails with thick flat fins and swam poorly at best, and that their worlds were better off separate. Now, every miernes knew about the human world. They were uncomfortably familiar with humans, their behaviours, their tools and technology, and their languages. Humans had begun invading their territories, abducting as many mierne as they could. Qell did not know the details of what happened to them once they were taken, but she did know that humans were at war with one another. The two great continents on either side of the sea had been in conflict for a long time, and the mierne were caught up in that fight. Their homes were destroyed by sinking ships and bombs and shrapnel, their food sources were depleted, and their families were captured or culled whenever they encountered human ships. They were being used in the humans’ war somehow, and Qell was likely about to learn how.

Whatever they were doing with her people, she would not make it easy for them. Her children had not asked to be birthed into a world determined to hunt them. Qell’s oldest was a rotation into the world before it started. She would not allow their deaths to pass without fighting until her last breath. They would have to kill her. Although, for all she knew, that was exactly what they intended. She could not see the water over the lip of the boat, but she could hear the sloshing water as the boat’s hull sliced through it, and she could imagine the voices of her children calling out to her. “Zazhiri, Colkal, be safe and stay deep,” she whistled. Talking was just as broken as her ability to move, but it brought her a small bit of comfort to whisper to them though they would never hear. “I will do all I can to come back to you…take care of each other.”

She could see a monster of a ship looming closer as the humans steered toward it and an icy chill raced down Qellsala’s spine. She had no way of knowing, but something deep in her gut told her that the ship in front of her held all the answers about what happened to any miernes who found themselves tangled up with humanity. She was just the next victim in line and the time before she discovered awful truths she had no wish to learn was rapidly shortening as they drew closer and closer to the vessel that held her fate. Suddenly, the vow she had just made felt highly impossible and her instincts warned her that she was staring down the gullet of a bigger predator than herself. Her future now seemed far more bleak than starving slowly with her children. She squeezed her eyes shut and wished she was back with them now, soothing them with reassurances to distract from their hunger. At least then none of them would be alone. Mierne did not typically cry, especially not above the surface to experience the sensation of water leaking from the eyes, but now a single tear rolled down Qellsala’s cheek.