OUTCASTS

Just as the fox finished the head bandage on the wounded bear, his nurse came around the corner again. Roli was normally bursting with energy, but now she looked older and more tired than even Sharif could imagine.

Sit down and rest, or I'll have you in here next. Sharif said, concerned.

No place to sit down, anymore. The outer station is full, and the watch just brought in six more, from above. You'd better take a look.

Sharif slapped some tape over the end of the bandage, and quickly gave the bear a yellow card. Take this to the second room on the right. He instructed. They'll find a place for you to rest.

Roli leaned heavily against the doorway, blissfully glad for a few seconds of calm. She knew it was impossible, but even her whiskers ached with fatigue. She was still only long enough to savor an instant of quiet sanity, than she turned and followed Sharif out into the waiting room turned trauma ward.

Sharif came around the corner of what had been a comfortable waiting room. The sight he saw made him stagger sideways, leaning on the doorway for support!

Litters lay on the floor, nearly carpeting the room in neat rows. Here and there a chair was still used as a chair, to hold a non stretcher case. The benches served as stretcher holders. Above them hooks and nails now studded the walls holding bags and bottles of fluid from or for wounds. Sharif saw that most of the litters had red ribbons on them.

How many? Sharif asked, simply bowled over.

With this group, Twenty seven since this morning. Not counting fifteen no--seventeen that I healed and released. Roli said.

No wonder you're exhausted. Why didn't you come and get me? Sharif asked.

How many have you had this morning? Roli asked, turning the question around.

Too many. conceded Sharif. Get central command, and send to Shazi that we need assistance.

I'll try again, if you want. I touched him a half hour ago and he sent that he was going to alert level three. he just told me to hold back the flood. and Hel--. Roli's words ended in a dead faint!

Sharif caught his lapine nurse under the arms, scooped her up and the vulpine doctor dashed for the only treatment room he had left!

Konitev! Rocar sent sharply.

One of the heavily armed wolverines that was standing out side came down the tunnel, and into the hospital.

Yes, My Preator?

Leave here, quietly. go to point six, and make contact with the resistance. Tell them to send a courier to me.

At once, Preator! The Wolverine was gone almost before the echo of his reply in Rocar's mind.

I have sent a scout to some friends who may be able to aid your friend. Rocar told Shalmira, adding a nuzzle of sympathy. Is Shalon a mixer of metals,or a forger? Rocar asked.

In his younger days, a fine, strong forger, but now, one who mixed alloys for new metals, Rocar. Shalmira answered. Her eyes were impressed by the white lion's gentleness and his knowledge.

Rocar nodded. What of the others?

Construction workers, by their tattered clothing and station pips. Typical for we of the ringed tail. Shalmira observed.

That is what troubles me. Rocar confessed. Your people are prized for their skills of craft. Why would the Simians wish their blood?

Only they can tell us, Rocar. Shalmira's words came with great, sad eyes as she looked over the row of beds, each filled with a nearly broken ring-tailed body.

Standing next to her, Rocar could sense the flaring of anger in Shalmira. I vow to you that all that can be done for them shall be done. The white lion said softly. You have served your people well in this hour, Shalmira. Rocar nuzzled the female ringtail once again, more deeply this time.

Thank you, Rocar. Shalmira was close to his ear as she spoke, for she found herself hugging him gently.

Konitev slid out the back gate of the compound, passed by the sentries and Rocar's own send. The streets surrounding the fence soon gave away to piles of rubble and debris that were splendid cover. The wolverine made his way quickly over ground that was still burned and lifeless beneath his paws, unseen even by the birds of the air.

Rocar had been right. The appointed spot had once been a park filled with statuary. Now pieces of broken stone Simians lay at odd angles, strewn over the once lush grass.

Konitev could sense someone there a full half stadia away. Sure enough, as he walked deeper into the park, the Mustelid warrior could see a figure lurking amongst a forest of half melted copper and bronze figures near the ruined wall at one end of the park.

The wolverine's run forward was fast and strong, for he knew not if he faced friend or foe. When he drew close enough, a word that Rocar had thought to him would decide that.

Halt in the name of the Republic! the wolverine called, as he closed with the shadowy figure. By the scent of him, a fox. It was the last word that stopped the fox in where he stood.

Konitev closed to within an easy leap of the fox, still not sure if he had to talk or fight. Diplomacy and small talk were never Konitev's favorites; Liberty. the wolverine growled at the fox.

Justice The fox returned casually, extending his paw. Konitev took it without ceremony, and let the fox lead him. There was not a moment to be lost on chatter!

Almost before the wolverine knew it, he was descending a sloping passageway, and was under the ground. Konitev could not help but notice the bedrock that formed the walls of the corridor that the fox took him thru. Konitev's vision was drawn to the double rows of litters that narrowed the tunnel on both sides. the Wolverine warrior noticed that many who lay on these litters would never move again, while some merely waited for death to stop the shocking pain of their ruined bodies.

Simians did this? Konitev asked the fox shortly, disbelieving of the barbarism that lay stretched out on both sides of his vision as far as he could see down the corridor.

Yes. The fox replied flatly, his voice stripped of any feeling by constant and numbing sorrow. All over the city, and in every district and province, Simians are doing this. We cannot be everywhere. The fox lamented.

It was a sight the enraged wolverine would remember.

The fox led him down a branch corridor, away from the grim scene. The fox ushered the wolverine into a side room, where a white lion stood behind a planning table. The cat looked up and smiled.

The wolverine grunted. This cat was nearly a copy of Rocar, except that his leaner body betrayed his youth.

A courier from your brother. Announced the fox, with a parade ground salute.

The gesture broadened the Lion's smile. He and the fox had played for days on end as kit and cub, and their friendship turned protocol into a private joke.

You are Shamir. Konitev said.

So they tell me.

The wolverine ignored the attempt at humor from the cat. I bear a message send from Rocar. He instructs me to release it only to you. Konitev told the cat flatly.

Shamir nodded, and padded around the edge of the desk. As he did so, Konitev removed his helmet and stood still. The young lion locked gaze with the wolverine. Almost at once, the link formed between them, made all the more powerful by the shared intensity of the two young and fiery minds. Konitev's mind opened, and instantly, Shamir could feel Rocar with all his senses, as if the two brothers stood looking at one another.

My Brother. Grave danger looms in this hour. He who bares this message can be trusted as with my life. The enemy intends the capture and execution of all who worked and believed in the Republic. My command will shortly be asked to assist in what has become our worst fear. We have given shelter to many within these walls who are refugees from Simian mobs. Send a guide, and we shall see them safe to you. I fear that even I may not be able to stem the flow of these events. If the worst becomes to pass, we shall come to you. Justice and peace.

The message took less than a heartbeat for Shamir to understand, and less than the span of a single thought for brother to comprehend brother. Shamir's very next thought was used to send for Shomron and his Father!

Shortly Konitev was ushered into the Command Center, and Rocar's message shared with everyone. The room stood silent and still for a moment. One of those few when all gathered could feel the weight of both history and fate upon them. Shamir spoke first.

Send Lollo as the guide. I'll break trail for him on the way out and cover him on the way back. Shamir suggested.

Across the room, the male wolverine nodded. Krista followed him as Lollo dashed down the corridor toward the armory.

How many within your walls need shelter? Shomron asked Konitev.

A mixed group of a dozen. Ringtails, male and female. Some need of a hospital, else they will need only the ground to lie in. Konitev told the assembly.

Can Rocar send us some medical supplies? Aurora asked.

I feel that that is his intention. Konitev replied. We are fully stocked, for a siege, if needs must. If you have need, I know that he will share what we have.

Shomron turned to Vladimir. Get the black gang together. We can't tunnel under your encampment, but we can form a chain and pass things from paw to paw, if it cannot be carried.

Already at work. Vladimir answered, his antennae fairly glowing with an urgent power.

Fear Naught. Konitev said. I have a plan. You assemble a raiding party.

K'a'chi smiled, understanding the wolverine. For the capture of a supply convoy? she asked.

Yes! You think well. Konitev replied.

We will give shelter to those who are in the vehicles, so they will not face Simian retribution. Sharda promised.

Konitev nodded. They may well be the first of many to come. We are of one heart with Rocar. We will raise no weapons against innocents.

It will have to look as if all with the convoy have been killed, and the convoy destroyed in the battle. Malnatev reminded.

Shomron nodded. We can fool the Simians. we've done it before, never fear. The cheetah replied.

Tell me. Shalimar spoke up. How is Rocar, Konitev?

It is by his valor that the ringtails lived. Indeed, he does his creed proud. The warrior spoke in reply. He also stood fast in the face of the Simian lie. For this, we have cheered him, as the Simians watched, thinking that we cheered them and their lies. Konitev told the elder Lion.

Shalimar's relief showed on his muzzle and deep within his eyes. By your leave, I will have a message to send to my son. Shalimar asked.

Rocar has placed me at your service, Khai Koda Shalimar. Konitev answered with a deep bow to Shalimar. I ask only a small boon. Konitev went on.

Name it, and I shall grant it, if I can. Shalimar replied with an easy smile.

May I have a letter with your seal on it, for my mates and children?

You shall have one letter for each, with words and seal by me, and welcome you are to them, Konitev.

The wolverine smiled.

Rocar was never one to waste time or energy. There was too much to do and too little time. Yet, he seemed to be everywhere, so his command could see him, double checking every detail. He spared word nor send to make sure that every fur bearer in his command understood what was expected. The compound was busy and every fur bearer fell to their work with a grim determination.

Yet as he worked, Rocar's mind was divided. It is the first maxim of a warrior to put oneself in the mind of one's enemy. Rocar knew the profoundest truth of this as his mind concentrated on what the Simians might do next. The struggle ahead would be as much mental as tactical, and on both fronts, Rocar turned the advantage of a warrior's mind on the Simians as surely as he sighted in a cannon.

A runner in full armor brought the first reports from the city and outlying districts. As the Simian commander read them, his flat, face broke into a Simian smile.

All outposts report security sweeps in progress, My Leader.

Excellent. Any resistance offered by the fur bearers?

Only Isolated incidents. No casualties reported among military units or the citizenry, My Leader.

Better and better. Relay to all units that we are pleased with their actions. Remind them again that any resistance, no matter how slight, is to be ruthlessly crushed.

Yes, My Leader!

Reports as they become available.

Yes, My Leader! Replied Kai Minn.

Send Shan Kar to me. At once.

The Simian Military commander saluted and marched out, snarling the order to a page who waited at the door.

Shan Kar's shouted name echoed in the great hollow halls. Shan Kar's slight form seemed to appear like a nervous ghost, who did not so much walk into the room as to slink into it.

What progress has been made by Internal security? The Simian leader growled shortly.

My Leader, it has barely been two hours.

Two hours, Bah! The Leader snapped. He waved a thick arm over the plotting board before him that reflected citizens reprisals that were backed by the army. See all I have done in the same time? You are not ruthless enough. How many of the former Khai are under detention? The Leader demanded, his anger visible and frightening.

None, at this time, My Leader.

WHAT?

We are still gathering information. Shan Kar justified.

You are an imbecile!! The Leader of the Simians spat in an ugly tone. I know where at least one of them is, and I have no spies. Bring me Takagi's pelt in two hours' time, or I will have yours to walk upon! The Simian general pointed his threat by drawing his broad sword, and brandishing it after Shan Kar as he dodged and dashed from the great room, afraid for more than his station.

A sharp and terrible scream woke her from sleep with an awful start. Her first thought was the baby, who lay asleep next to her, perfectly at peace. Her next thought, in the same instant was Shantal.

She dodged pieces of the door as chunks of it flew in at her, Splintered by the pair of Simians who had crashed against it. The two of them were on her before she could draw breath to scream again. They took her, one in front, and one behind, knocking her to the floor. One of them knelt over her, pinning her down before Shantal could move, or even think about fighting back. The other slapped a hand across the top of her muzzle, clamping her mouth shut. The kneeling Simian unfastened his sword belt and let it fall to the floor, as Shantal looked up, her eyes filled with terror and desperation.

The kneeling Simian was opening the flap in his mailed armor when his companion holding the female let out a strange sound. The first Simian watched in horror and saw a long steel blade emerge from the front side of his companion's chest. The living Simian was dyed red by the eruption of Simian blood from the run thru body a foot away!

Shantal used the instant to kick up hard and roll away, as the surviving Simian fell backward, on his knees, sprawling onto his back. Shari braced a foot on the dead Simian's split torso to draw Shantal's broad sword out of the dead body as it feel forward into the space where Shantal had laid only a moment before.

The weight of the great blade threw Shari off balance for an instant. and that was all the longer the second Simian lived, as the smaller vixen's stumbling forward thrust divide the Simian hips from his backbone, in a thrust made clean by the weight of the blade! Shari was soaked in the great hot spray of blood, that blinded her. She staggered backward, dropping the great sword as she choked, gagged, and vomited.

Shantal was there amid the grizzly scene, holding Shari as her stomach and bowels emptied in horror. Death had turned their home into a slaughterhouse within a minute. Both Vixen stood deadly still, uncertain if death might linger to claim them. But beyond the soft spurting sounds, the room was as peaceful as it had been only a moment before.

Shantal left her Lifemate only long enough to claim her weapon, freshly quenched from point to hilt in fresh and sticky Simian blood. If death brought the Simians to them again in the next moment, the Simians would find one vixen ready and willing to fight for her pelt.

As Shari stood beside Shantal, Shari's stark terror turned into an uncontrolled bawling. Shantal took hold of her blood soaked Soulmate, and in the midst of carnage and terror, the pair of vixens shared an embrace. Then, they were still again for a single moment. They stood together, listening and waiting in both terror and resolution, as another set of shadows fell across the shattered doorway.

Are you all. Right? The canine with the double crossbows staggered in his thought as the full and grizzly scene before him registered. He detached three of his patrol to take the vixens and their baby to better and cleaner quarters. In less than a minute, the house was vacant and alone, as the rest of the patrol continued it's sweep. There was no time for thought, nor remorse. Others would need their help too, and they couldn't spare a moment.

Nachtoter and Slasher waited quietly in the stand of trees not far from the old house. The evening was very much as the previous few had been, quiet and deadly dull. This section of the city had been spared the mobs of rampaging Simian citizens largely because there was very little here worthy of what the Sentinels were now calling "The righteous wrath of the State's loyal citizenry."

It gave them a good chance to practice with their weapons and foraging for food in the dense woods. The hunting was good, and game was so plentiful that neither of the cats carried issue rations.

Nachtoter was cleaning his claws after snacking on a pheasant. Slasher had the point, and as the black panther looked up from burying the feathers, he saw his partner's ears swivel.

Truck! Slasher sent.

A moment later, the wind brought the same sound to the night black cat. Type 3, Military. At eight o'clock! Nachtoter sent.

Slasher crouched, peering out from the edge of a large bolder that was part of the tree roots. He saw a surplus grav-truck float with difficulty along the serpentine road. Instead of military, the rear of the truck was full of what seemed to be average Citizens, some carrying protest signs. There was no fooling the warriors. Nearly the whole group were Simian soldiers, dressed in sloppy civilian clothes.

Nachtoter watched with morbid fascination as the truck and its passengers drew near the only structure along the road. The truck floated to a stop in front of the old house and its scruffy load dismounted!

Nachtoter tapped Slash's broad shoulder with a single claw. The Panther made a massive fist out of one paw, while drawing the other around it in a half circle. Slasher nodded and padded away, off to the right, to circle the house from the back.

The black panther took a look back as he stalked away to come up on the far side of the truck. He saw one of the Simians stride up onto the dusty porch and pound on the door so hard that the entire house shook!

"Come out, you old relic!" The Simian shouted. After his companions cheered, he went on rabble rousing. "Come out and face the citizens, if you dare, and pay for your conspiracy."

Takagi might have been aged, but he was neither stupid nor unaware. His range could cover whole solar systems, and he had felt this lot approach almost before they could see his house. He ignored the din, taking the finished crystal from its magnetic matrix, and placing it carefully in its holder. The elder Skiltaire took the crystal case to an odd hole cut into the floor, and set the box back into the floor vault. He closed the heavy door, and replaced the cut out. He was careful to replace the thick layers of tapestry on the floor one at a time. After a moments thought, and with a bit of effort, he moved his favorite chair over it as well.

By now, the mob was trying to force the door, and his front room was filled with the sound of shattering glass!

Near the far corner of the house, Slasher heard glass breaking. He cursed to himself, and sent to Nachtoter as he pressed himself against the outside back wall. It would be harder to rescue Takagi if the mob got to him first.

Nachtoter's luck was better. The driver of the truck had joined the mob trying to force their way into the house, leaving the truck unguarded as he stalked up to the empty driver's compartment. He felt Slasher just as one of the Simians picked up the globe that sat on the porch and threw it overhand thru the large window of Takagi's front room.

In the rear of the house, Slasher heard more glass braking. He eased over to the small window in the back wall and raised the sash, ducking silently into the bedroom on the side of the living room. Soundlessly, he opened the door and watched.

Takagi met them in the center of his living room as the door splintered at last and gave away. The studied, icy contempt in the old Skiltaire's eyes froze the rabble where they stood in the doorway.

Nachtoter saw them surge for the inside as the door gave away, then they stopped for a moment. It was the moment the panther needed. He leapt fluidly into the driver's compartment, and set the magnetic field of the truck to the opposite polarity. He waved a paw, opening the power supply to full flow. As the grav-truck lurched backward, Nachtoter jumped out, and watched the truck barrel away in full reverse! This had two advantages, the first obvious, the second, less so. First, Nachtoter now had a clear line of leap into the rear of the rabble. The second was, that unless the mob could fly, they had no escape.

"I'm sorry." Takagi said flatly. "The shop is closed for the day. Come back tomorrow." He told them. "And see that you bring money for the damages."

"We'll damage more than doors before the nite's done, you old traitor." The self appointed rabble rouser said, as he and three other Simians moved to grab him, blood and murder in their eyes.

Slasher admired the Skiltaire's nerve. He could have virtually fried the first Simians who laid paws on him. Instead, He let himself be lead away roughly by the mob. He had been shoved about halfway across his living room, when the biggest of the Simians hauled him up by the collar, and held him there, while two more tied the Skiltaire's fore and hind paws. After the Mustelid could not move, or resist, the Simian took hold of him again and in a sweeping turn, tossed the elder mustelid thru the gaping hole that had been the Skiltaire's front window.

Nachtoter was watching the truck gather speed and momentum in it's backward flight. It sailed unguided across the hills, and ran bed first into an outcrop of rock that knobbed the neighboring hill. It exploded into a grassy fireball at the same instant that the panther saw the form of a helpless Skiltaire tumble thru the shattered window, and land hard on the porch!

Nachtoter saw red.

The echo of the explosion mixed with a much deadlier and closer sound. It was a low growl. A sound of pure, instinctual animal rage, yet icy cold and stark in its forbidding promise of vengeance.

The mob stood still for one second. That was all Slasher needed! He stepped thru the bedroom door and into the living room where the Skiltaire had been only a moment before. All Simian heads were turned to the dread sound outside, so when they looked back for a moment, the armored jaguar seemed to have appeared from nothing, as if to replace the Skiltaire!

"Hay Ugly! You wanna try that with me?" he rumbled deep in his throat.

The Simian rabble rouser had just the split second to register the full shock on his flat face before Slasher took his Bo and drove it up between the male Simian's legs with all the Ki his trained, focused body could deliver.

The mob's attention was divided for a heartbeat between the explosion and the object of their lynching. They pivoted as Takagi landed hard on the dusty porch, looking at him with an awful light of frenzy in their collective eyes. They surged toward their helpless victim, only to be brought up short by a towering shape. It's huge silhouette fell across the Skiltaire, and in front of them.

It was as if the shadow had thrown a cage of black iron around the fallen victim. The collective Simians looked up, and up, and up, their terror increasing with the angle of their necks. Nachtoter's mammoth paw swung like a huge black scythe, and the two foremost Simians spun wildly, as if there had been a massive explosion centered on them alone. They arched thru the air like broken dolls thrown away by a capricious child. They landed in an unmoving heap just far enough away to be seen by the other rabble.

Slasher drove the Bo home hard, sinking it deep into the vulnerable flesh. The Simian weighed more than the jaguar, but rage and outrage let Slasher lift him easily. He did so with a sharp snapping motion that turned the bigger than average Simian into a hulking deadweight projectile that mowed down the other members of the Simian mob standing in a terrified knot in front of him. Slasher never stopped moving, spin turning his staff in a slashing arc that sliced into the falling bodies with an awful and perfect precision.

The terrified mob wavered. Suddenly, the dusty porch was a small, dense place with nowhere to hide. The tremendous black hunter let flow his blackest and deepest rage into a screaming growl that only a panther could sound. It was as if someone had distilled unspeakable terror into a single vocalization.

Those nearest the door bolted into the house, screaming as only Simians could. They were gone from sight for only a moment, when the screams from within the house swelled to hysteria. They continued as the Simians who made them came sailing out of the broken window and thru the wall, respectively, broken balls of pain.

The mob lost all resolve and order at that moment, and nearly killed one another in the mad scramble over each other to escape with their lives! The rabble boiled down the hilltop, any thought of the truck forgotten, replaced by the terror to get away.

Nachtoter knelt over the motionless Skiltaire. Slasher was there in the same moment. He Needs Medical. Let's move!

The Panther swept the wounded Skiltaire gently lengthwise onto his tremendous arm, and tucked him in close to his body. In a few seconds, the pair of warriors vanished like a bad memory, leaving the house and broken Simians in their wake.

Lollo felt the send from Shomron as he stood outside the armory. He and Krista had been there for less than a minute, knowing together what their leader and friend might ask of them at this hour. Krista helped her mate into the light ceramic armor that was his favorite when he had to move fast, and fight hard. Inwardly, Krista hoped the wolverine she loved would do more of the former, and as little of the latter as possible.

As Krista helped Lollo suit up, no words passed between them. But there was a unique gentleness in her touch as she worked. At last she hugged her armored mate with a force that threatened to crack the plates he wore!

Be Careful, My sweet.

I'm not worried, Darling Lollo sent in return.

How so, Sweetheart?

If the Simians catch me, they won't dare harm me. Lollo answered.

I don't understand, Darling Mine, Why is that?

Once the dullards realize who my Mate is, they won't harm me unless they want a total war!

Krista giggled softly, and held Lollo so close that it seemed that she would melt right thru the plates and join him in the armor! But behind Krista's love and concern, she could feel a dark truth in her mate's humor. For the Simians, it seemed, had done just that!

Shamir stood quietly in his father's workroom. The boards and now, even sections of the rock walls bore long chains of complex equations, as Shalimar had worked quickly, in unbroken realms of numbers and symbols.

But now, The elder Lion was no more the astronomer, or the hero. He stood with his son, trying to figure out the most difficult problem of his life. For this solution, there was no constant, except love and no formula beyond caring.

Shamir. I. Oh blast it! I'm sorry. I suppose I'm a better scientist than I have been a Father.

Don't blame yourself, Father. I haven't given you much of a chance, have I?

Your Mother. She was right. How proud she'd be of you. As proud as I am of you.

I love you, Father.

I Love you too, My son. Go now, and return to me safely.

The elder lion shared a gentle nuzzle with his offspring, and then, the younger lion was gone, in an explosive streak of white. Shalimar looked at the empty space left and hoped for a long moment before the chalks floated back onto the boards again, wavering slightly.

As the turbulent officers call ended, Crystal padded softly across the command center and took Shomron's paw gently. The male Cheetah's tired eyes lit softly as she embraced him.

Thank you so much, Love. Shomron said, his voice tired as he hugged her.

Your welcome, Sweetfur. I know I don't rate a rank or anything, but since I've been sort of drafted, I may as well help out. Can I ask my commanding cheetah just one little question?

You can ask me anything, Darling.

Who in the name of clipped spots are you? Crystal asked pointedly. If you're a hospital orderly, I'm a Simian rug.

Shomron Smiled. My name is Khai Shazmi Shomron. And, like it or not, and that's been debatable lately, I'm in charge of--

The elder cheetah's explanation ground to a halt as Crystal blinked at him twice, her eyes the size of saucers, and then collapsed to the floor, convulsed into a near fetal position with laughter!

Shomron could only watch in amazement as Crystal rolled on her back, beside herself with gales of laughter that re-doubled every time Crystal tried to look at him, and doubled again each time she tried to speak to him! She was so overcome that by the end of the next minute, she was nearly fainting as she held out a rubbery forelimb. Shomron helped her to stand, in effect holding her up as she gasped for air!!

Now it's my turn. I suppose. Shomron stammered in confusion. What's so Fur-Bearing funny?

Crystal drew in a deep breath, trying to get hold of herself, but as she began to speak, she nearly doubled over again! Yu---huuuu----!! She blurted out at last. You. Eeeeehheet. Baaaabeeeheeeees! she regaled. Yhoooo Ra Mon-Ster! She gasped, catching her breath at last.

Why, Thanks. I Love you too! Said Shomron, just a bit taken aback.

Oh, Darling. I'm sorry. Crystal said, wiping the tears from her eyes and muzzle But it's so darned funny!

Shomron looked at her utterly lost.

Crystal hugged him warmly and then endeavored to explain.

In the camp, from the time I was born, they used to indoctrinate us with the idea that the leaders of the resistance were sub-Simian monsters who roasted naughty children for lunch, and drank fresh blood with dinner. Crystal explained.

A charming image. I had no idea the Simians knew me so well. Shomron said dryly.

Crystal's smile broadened as she nodded. That's what so funny. You're a real pussycat, Love. She went on as they folded into a hug, both purring nearly as loud as she had been laughing.

Nachtoter sent ahead of them, on the run, as Slasher stayed two steps ahead, breaking a straight trail and knocking down the smaller trees that got in their way. It was nearly a thousand stadia back to the compound, over uneven, undulating ground around the hilltop. The brace of warriors catapulted over the smaller hillocks, staying only a paw slip ahead of the death that the black panther could feel sinking honey sweetened claws into the body on his arm. Takagi was fighting, but he was also dying.

An observation skimmer floated quickly out of the compound, and met them on the fly. Takagi floated untouched from arm to paw to the top on the smooth metal hull. Two sets of paws touched the Skiltaire's body at once, beginning a desperate healing, as the skimmer raced back to the compound, it's throttle open wide.

Rocar never allowed himself to feel useless, but there were times that it could seem very hard to do so. Again and again, Rocar's mind became Simian, as he tried to checkmate every move that might come next. At last, he knew he had done all that he could do, and his Warrior's lot fell to the hardest portion, waiting and hoping against the blackening sky.