“How are you two managing this?”
Alias raised his eyebrows at Rhidi as he kept his face down onto the tactician board, trying to command his troops against a Reg that was currently playing against him on one of the carriers. “Manage what?”
“Dating our Pod Section Leader, what the hell else would I be talking about?” Rhidi said dourly, shoving him on the thigh with the heel of her pawed foot. “Do you think I honestly give a shit about your little war ga?”
Alias shrugged. “Well, we follow the rules, for one. You would be surprised how much leeway there is in the Human command rulings for such things.”
They were sitting on a small circular couch on the lounge area of the Wild Hunt, the Void Navyn, Void Marines, and Droppers all mingling about as they went about their after-hours deviations. On board the Wild Hunt, there really wasn’t much to do after the workouts and regular military duties, which ant a lot of lounging, videogas, or hanging out in the small cafe.
Despite The Dark Wood being rather large for the cafe that it was, it still felt relatively small when compared to all the people that wanted to hang out in it. It offered a bit of “different” to the life onboard, the tal decking changing to wooden floor boards, rugs, and synthetic tree trunks to make it feel as if you really were entering the edge of a woodline. The effect of the decorations, as well as the odd choices of tables, chairs, and cottage-core design gave the entire thing the appearance of a witch’s coffee corner.
Shasta would have been inside The Dark Wood getting his usual hot chai latte, but he seed heavily intrigued in the tactician board.
Videogas were more of a Human thing than an “anyone else” thing, and were considered an addictive non-substance on so planets. Others had banned them outright due to the effect they had on their citizens, but that was not really an issue when working for Humans directly.
The multiplayer videogas were the most addictive, with a planet known as Korwal’s Frontier suffering from a crippling reliance on automated manufacturing due to their citizens constantly wanting to stay plugged into “.root//dawi”.
Tactician boards were a genre of video ga that were top down, displayed on a flat, hand-held data-screen that reacted to both gestures or voice commands, as well as touch commands via the finger. They could range from managing ancient armies to modern conflicts, and at the mont Alias was commanding Arican forces during a hypothetical conflict known as the “Cold War”.
“Your recon vehiclesss are going to be enveloped.” Shasta said, tapping his claw on the unit of Bradleys currently caught in the middle of infantry pushing into a forest. “If these are Russsian regulars, they will have RPGs.”
Alias rolled his eyes. “I am fully aware of what they are, the Bradleys have dismounted infantry around them.”
“It isss not going to help them if they get surrounded.” Shasta chided, his hood flaring. “Do you honessstly think they are going to delay the push long enough for your M60s to arrive?”
Alias issued the unit a command, passing a morale check to keep them in place. “They will do their duty.”
Rhidi leaned forward from her seat, looking at them both with wide, aggravated eyes as she cupped her matcha latte in both hands. “Are you two seriously going to play light with the fact that Alias is boning down our Section Leader in a secret relationship that they are pretending isn’t happening? I saw her make you do push ups only a few days after our ti at the rink!”
“Her foreplay is rather advanced.” Alias murmured, clearly not caring as he watched the steady advance of his M60’s with hopeful eyes. “During work hours we are soldiers, off hours we are people, it’s that shrimple.”
Shasta let out a hissing laugh, his many soda-tab pull rings tinkling from inside his shirt. “Sssshrimple, what a funny .” He then looked back down at the board in ti to see the Bradleys catch multiple RPG rounds. “You never pulled them back?”
“Their sacrifice serves more to than their lives.” Alias said while tapping a finger to his bottom lip, his nebulous eyes reflecting with the fire of the burning vehicles. “Sotis pawns must die in order to take the board, and get the checkmate I desire.”
Rhidi snorted. “Remind to never let you get into command.”
“It’s only a videoga, Rhidi.” Alias said with a smile, his M60s arriving to blunt the enemy advance viciously. “I wouldn’t trade actual lives so easily.”
“Videogasss are a window.” Shasta said with warning, leaning forward to stare into the side of Alias’s face. “I have ssseen the kinds of darkness that a sssimple ga can pull from inside a person.”
Alias lifted his head as the Reg called for a joint pause of the ga, as he had to use the head. “You an how Rhidi turns into a hoarding dragon when we play board gas?”
“It’s a resource ga, Alias, I have to maintain a stock of resources!” Rhidi groused, leaning back against the couch. “How am I supposed to win if I just use resources willy-nilly?”
“You let Shasta’s peasants starve because you wanted to upgrade your grain facilities.” Alias sighed out theatrically. “All you had to do was loan him five parcels of wheat…”
Shasta nodded solemnly. “The village of Edwardia had many hardships that Winter.”
“You two are so stupid.” Rhidi growled, causing the two to laugh as she leaned over and shoved Alias over. “My hoarding is exactly why I tend to win boardgas!”
Alias barked out another laugh from where he was laying on the couch, holding up his hands. “Rhidi, it was a co-op ga!”
“Rhidi has rarely been a fan of playing nice with others.” An olive-drab colored Kafya said in passing, then turning and sitting down on the far end of the couch. She looked over at Rhidi with her red eyes, then smiled. “Or, that is what I hear, at least.”
“Private Yiwa.” Rhidi said with a fair bit of side eye. “How goes the day?”
“Weird being on a ship with gravity.” Yiwa sighed out as she stretched her strong legs with a crackle of muscles, then wiggled her socked feet. “Getting used to the ship. It’s not much different from the barracks, but it’s still… hard to wrap the mind around. Did you know our ship was technically upside down for an entire day and no one knew?”
Yiwa was one of the many “muddled” Kafya, her olive-drab fur color caused by the mingling of her brown and green parents. She was considered an “ugly” color, and had joined with the Humans after fleeing from the cargo ship she was working on once it landed at an Earthen station.
For a Kafya, she looked particularly vicious due to her coloring and red eyes, though the military-aligned Humans seed to find her rather attractive for whatever reason. She was well rounded in body, and kept her hair trimd in a severe undercut.
Though, Rhidi was curious why she had chosen to learn a German accent, of all things.
“So when do you plan to make a run on Rhidi?” Shasta asked, lacing his fingers and resting his scaley chin on the backs of his hands. “All you new femalesss always try and test your luck.”
Yiwa placed a finger to her chest, her eyes going wide with humor. “? Oh no no, my Lilgaran friend, I have no interest in tangling with Rhidi. I’ve seen enough videos of her throwing Privates through doors and windows to know my place.”
“She is rather vicious for a yellow fur.” Uppil said as she went walking past with a pair of coldcut subs in her hand. “I think it’s why the brown furs like her so much.”
Rhidi chuckled at that, though her laugh faded away into an awkward “eeehhh…” when she thought back to so of the more… enthusiastic challenges.
The window incident had been due to a very energetic orange fur Reg that had ambushed her during a fried chicken run, resulting in a brawl in the middle of the dining room. The MPs arrived just as Rhidi threw her through a small side window of the restaurant, sending the orange Kafya rolling across the parking lot in a sprawl of glass shards.
The orange fur had a few cuts and a lot of bruises, but couldn’t look at any part of Rhidi if she spotted the yellow fur out and about in public, normally looking down at the ground until the yellow fur passed from sight. Rhidi had to spend quite a bit of ti doing paperwork and talking with her command, though it was all “in regs” concerning her position.
She then learned the Army had put together a special insurance policy for both Kholihls and Hohrlihls serving in the Army, which had paid for the broken window and the three shattered tables.
“They were supposed to have all those videos removed.” Rhidi murmured into the drinking spout of her cup, though her tail did give a smug, satisfied wag.
Yiwa chuckled at that, pulling a pack of caral chews from her pocket. “Hard to delete sothing saved on hard dia and then shared around in the barracks. Female Kafya are leaving basic training well inford on the Drop Pod Lycan.”
“And probably scared to death of Rhidi.” Alias said with a smirk on his voice, going back to commanding his troops now that the Reg was back from taking care of nature’s call.
Shasta nodded. “Rhidi has earned her reputation with combat experience, it would be a foolsss errand for anyone but another Dropper to tangle with her in the open field.”
“Open field my ass.” Alias snorted. “That orange furred one attacked her mid retrieval of her chicken strips.”
“Still got my chicken strips too.” Rhidi replied. “Ate them in the commander’s office.”
Yiwa cackled happily, stomping her socked feet against the deck of the ship. “See! This is why I wanted in this Company! It never fails that sothing interesting is happening over here, or around Rhidi at least.”
“You may be on the fringe for a while, still.” Rhidi said, and when Yiwa blinked at Rhidi in question, she gestured towards a couch across the room.
There upon it sat Anfilid, Oin, Imridit, Quinnit, and Inthur, all of whom were staring at Yiwa as if she were insane.
“Oh.” Yiwa croaked, her ears coming down in worry. “Inner circle.”
Rhidi nodded. “I’m afraid you have about ten more seconds before they co over here and drag you away.”
Yiwa questioned this, kicking her feet back and forth as she slowly swiveled her olive-drab head towards the inner circle, then jumped to her feet when Imridit stood up.
“Talk again later!” Yiwa called out as she beat a hasty retreat before any other female Kafya could stand up from their seat.
Imridit nodded her pink hair-bunned head in a satisfied manner, then plopped back down onto the couch to continue painting her nails with the rest of the inner circle.
“So why do you need an active bodyguard detail made up of female Kafya?” Alias asked, his M60s chewing through Russian infantry like hungry monsters. “Seems like overkill for you.”
Rhidi shrugged, leaning over to watch the screen. “It’s a Kafya thing, keeps the Kholihl from getting overwheld with people, and they screen.”
“Do the bodyguards normally paint their nails in booty shortsss?” Shasta asked, narrowing his eyes as he realized Acici was also over there getting her nails painted by Oin.
Rhidi flashed her eyes in annoyance. “No, not usually. I believe that is likely Imridit’s doing.”
“Inthur caused that poor Human Void Navyman to trip over his own feet and scatter his shopping all over the floor.” Alias said in a chiding tone. “You should know better than to let her bend over at all.”
Shasta hissed out a laugh as he reached over and lightly punched Rhidi on the arm. “Ssshe could cause an accident just by trying to tie her bootsss!”
“... Yeah…” Rhidi said dourly with angrily furrowed brows, rembering when the foolish blue Kafya had walked from the showers in just her towel, and a Reg and been so busy staring that he failed to see the set of stairs in front of him.
His leg was still healing from the break.
“I really have to talk with her about her clothing choices.” Rhidi said in a low tone, as she had been getting stiff words from command about it; While they could not say much about Inthur when she was in uniform, they now had a whacking stick in the form of Rhidi in order to improve her civilian attire. “She’s been getting real friendly with Angel and Avlov, and I think they are becoming a bad influence.”
“Ain’t just those-” Alias began, but Rhidi held up a yellow furred hand.
“Ain’t?” Rhidi laughed out, causing Alias to frown and Shasta to giggle. “Since when the hell do you say ain’t?”
Alias slowly turned his head towards Rhidi, just enough so he could glare at her out the corner of his vision. He held the look for a mont, then looked back towards the tactician board. “Ain’t just those two, Shorsey has been weaponizing Inthur.”
“How the hell do you weaponize Inthur?” Shasta asked, looking around to the blue furred Kafya with a flared hood. “Ssshe already barely fits in her armor!”
“By using her to get free drinks.” Alias mused, calling in a pair of F-4 Phantom II’s. “She takes Inthur off base to the bars, n try to buy Inthur drinks, but Shorsey drinks the lion’s share in order to get wasted for free.”
Rhidi snorted at that, shaking her head. “Good grief…”
“Can’t bla the woman.” Shasta said with a shrug. “Inthur is asss bad as Acici, and she has yet to pay for a dinner that she didn’t plan to.”
“She is rather fond of those leggings, isn’t she?” Rhidi asked with a quiet chuckle.
Due to their tails, female Lilgara always had a little bit of squish going on when it ca to their posteriors, and with the application of the correct pants after months of weight lifting, just them walking was enough to drag the eye.
Not even Rhidi was immune, and used to watch Acici do her laundry with a fair bit of mirth with the other Kafya.
Rhidi took another long drink of her matcha latte, though her ears perked up as a loud, chirping “attention!” noise ca over the speakers. There were many noises that were played over the speakers, but the three loud chirps were normally used to put the soldiers on edge and send them to their ready stations.
“Really?” Inthur asked aloud, looking up and around as she blew on her new purple nails. “What the hell are we going to ready stations for?”
“Maybe they picked up on an incoming signal?” Oin asked, also blowing on her bright pink nails. “Sotis we can get random S.O.S. signals and have to ready out for a rescue mission.”
Rhidi clapped her hands together. “Don’t matter why it’s chirping at us, we have our duties, let’s go!”
The female Kafya all ca to their feet as Shaksho ca jogging in from the store, cupping his hand and giving out the sa order to the males.
“‘Don’t matter why’ she says.” Alias quipped, turning off the tactician board and setting it down. “And she is going to make fun of for saying ‘ain’t’...”
—
Lirya stretched out her arms with a quiet whine, feeling her pectoral muscles grumble and whine back at her as she did.
She had been unable to sleep, which resulted in Mohki being woken up for a late light visit to the gym. Lirya had been hoping to be there alone with just Mohki, but it appeared that Michael and Tolt always seed to know where she was.
Joined by the Human and his brown Kafya paramour, Lirya had been steadily working her way through her workouts as Mohki ground through her own.
While she was not a fan of most of her exercises, she did prefer to work on her legs and back on an odd little machine that both allowed a leg press and a row, a creature of a thing the Humans called the “full body extension”. Lirya liked it most of all because it allowed her to do two workouts in one, which cut down on her total ti spent in the rather odd slling gyms.
To her surprise, Tyllia had joined them today as well, though she kept Michael at a far arms length and followed what the workout application on her data-slate told her to do.
Tyllia, despite her lack of desire to actually be in a military application, had been rather ga to be hired on as a contractor. She did nothing remotely military or religious in nature, but instead focused on sothing that both Lirya and Mohki had massive shortcomings in.
Social dia.
With flying fingers and the edge only a socialite would have, Tyllia had quickly ford multiple accounts and pages revolving around Lirya and her tasks, gaining her a massive following in only a short ti. Her interviews with Lirya describing her life amongst the Kafya grew a substantial amount of ire for central Kafyan space, sothing that the Elder Councils were not taking kindly to.
Tyllia had awoken in a rage multiple tis to find the pages she had created taken down, or hacked… only to find them back up and running only a few hours later by so unknown force.
It took a lot of weight off of Lirya’s shoulders in ways she didn’t at first think of, as anything related to mail, inquiries, paperwork, or anything else went through Tyllia, which she then broke down for Lirya in a tidy list of “to-do’s”.
Lirya still found it surprising that Tyllia was up this late, or willing to go to the gym at this hour. Mind, it was her fault that the yellow furred Kafya was awake, as Lirya had fallen over into a shelf while trying to pull on her workout shorts.
Outside, the Georgian night was warm with stars and the twinkle of ship engines, the crafts going to and from Fort Benning in a consistent regularity that almost felt like a tide.
“One more Mohki, co on now.” Michael said with crossed arms, his leg on the top of the weight sled that she was currently struggling under. “Push through and get that rep in.”
Mohki bared her teeth, her long fringe sticking to her face. “You’re a sick bastard, Michael! A sick bastard!”
“Puuush now.” Michael replied back calmly, Tolt reaching forward and touching the tips of her toes as she watched Mohki.
Mohki let out an aggravated shunt of air out past her gritted teeth as she pushed the sled up into place above the safety guards, and she quickly slamd the holds into place with a flick of her hands.
“You have so fucking nerve!” Mohki gasped, splaying out her pumped legs as she panted and tried to catch her breath. “You can’t ambush a woman mid lift like that!”
Michael shrugged. “It’s good for you! Makes you really have to challenge your muscles on that last rep!”
“You’re lucky I don’t sling one of these round weights at you.” Mohki grumbled, letting out a small hiss and running her palms down her strained leg muscles.
Tolt let out a quiet chuckle as she perford a toe-pointer stretch. “They’re harder to throw than you think. If you don’t ti the release right, you’d probably take soone’s head off!”
“Hardly, all you have to do is-” Mohki began as she started to stand, but sothing outside the window caught her eyes, and her brown, pierced ears perking up.
Michael turned, looking over his shoulder while Tolt swung her leg out and around, coming smoothly up into a crouch.
“Soone else coming in?” Tyllia asked out, currently planking with little effort and scrolling on her data-slate.
“Is there a Platoon workout scheduled?” Mohki asked quietly, her ears twitching back and forth. “I hear a lot of boots.”
Michael narrowed his eyes. “No, there was nothing on the sheet.”
Lirya, having been too engrossed in her own workout and the music playing in her ears, looked up to see everyone staring at the door. She brought her machine into reset and pulled an inner-ear bud out as she panted. “What’s up guys?”
They all stared out into the night, which was far stiller than it had been before; No more ships were in the air, and as Lirya strained her ears to listen… she couldn’t hear any bugs, either.
The crickets were quiet, and the night birds had gone mute.
“Get away from the doors.” Michael murmured, taking a step back.
Tolt crawled backwards on all fours, her legs coiled as if to spring. “I can’t hear anything, the bugs and birds have learned to ignore the sounds from the gym.”
A few more seconds of silence passed on, and there was an odd tremor in the air, a tremor that Mohki knew well.
The buzz that ca from the wills and wyrd awaiting the bloodshed they knew to co.
“I hear Kafya-Hi.” Mohki whispered, her ears slowly coming down behind her head. “Mintulcurrian accent… it’s gone now.”
Michael and Tolt looked at each other, the Human leaning down and grabbing a forty five pound round plate.
“Rember what they told us.” Michael said down at Tolt, and the Kafya nodded before skittering off to their duffel bags that were set along the wall.
“Rember who told you what?” Tyllia asked as she ca up onto her knees.
Before Lirya could ask what was going on, all the display screens in the gym changed from screen savers and news broadcasts to letters.
All of which told them to get down, now.
“Get down!” Tolt scread as she ripped open the duffelbags, the doors exploding inwards in a cascade of glass as a breaching charge hit the room.
Lirya stood there, dumbfounded as the room filled with whizzing shards of tal and glass, her face blooming in fresh cuts as the shards slipped past her, or bounced off of her skin.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She had no idea what to think when the first Kafyan operator pushed past the door, hefting a rare Trimicta bolt-caster. Just seeing the thing made Lirya’s hair stand on end; Trimica bolt-casters were a terrifying close range weapon that relied on compressed exotic gases, focussing lenses, extrely hard to find minerals to create a bolt of plasma and light. The bolts themselves were extrely range dependent, as any target beyond fifty feet ran the risk of only minor injuries if they were wearing armor.
Anything within twenty five feet though… sotis not even armor could withstand the destructive power of the Trimicta.
These Kafya, obvious by their tails and ears, were covered from head to tail tip in armor or parts of their suit, giving away no inclination of color or affiliation. Their armor was expensive, rippling with personal shields that shimred like heat distortions on the air. Lirya had only seen armor like this on recruitnt broadcasts for governnt special operations units, normally sent out for hostage recovery or taking back stations that had been taken by pirates.
Seeing them here ant one thing: Soone wanted them dead.
Lirya startled backwards as a forty five round plate whipped the helted Kafyan’s head back with a hard snap of bone, their shield flaring red hot from the impact. The plate kept going as its first victim ragdolled to the ground in a dead heap, bouncing off the shoulder of the next operator coming through the door and sending them stumbling forward into the room awkwardly.
Michael let out a roar as he continued to spin, his arm muscles rippling as he slung another forty five pound round weight into the portal of the door.
This one went low, instead catching the third operator in their knees with a spine-cringing crack of their bones breaking; The suits were substantially powerful, but that was against incoming munitions, not raw weight.
With their helts muffling their voices, only the muted scream of the female Kafya could be heard as she hit the ground hard, her rifle discharging and blowing a six inch hole in the wall of the gym.
“Lirya get down!” Mohki scread, running over towards Lirya with thundering steps and tackling her to the ground as six more bolts of concentrated plasma and light ripped across the gym, barely missing the two by inches and singing their fur.
Tyllia, at a loss of what to do, picked up her data-slate and sent it frisbee’ing through the air, plinking off of the helt of the fifth operator in the stick.
They returned the slight with a rip of Trimicta fire, sending Tyllia into a screeching dive behind one of the bulkier machines.
“What do I do?!” Tyllia cried out as the screens around them turned into tirs, counting down the arrival of military police units.
“Stay down!” Tolt scread as she ripped a SR-113-SB submachine gun from her workout pack and tossed it through the air. “Mohki!”
Mohki held out her hands, snatching up the submachine gun and checking for brass. It was loaded and ready to roll, with an extended magazine already in place. Mohki rolled off of Lirya and ca up onto her knees, firing in slow asured bursts as she reached out and grabbed the dazed white fur by her shirt. “Get moving, Lirya!”
“What is going on?!” Lirya cried out, her eyes wide with terror as more glowing bolts of light ripped through the air. “Why are they shooting?!”
“They’re here for you!” Tolt called back, pulling back on the trigger of her drum mag-fed submachine gun and letting 30-06 “Oakley” rip across the positions of the strike team.
Due to the shorter barrel, the fireball produced by the SR-113-SB threw light and shadows everywhere, giving the once peaceful gym a manic, surreal air.
Despite the quickly adapting fight, Michael had found himself in the middle of the strike team’s push, aning the SR-113-SB waiting for him in his own bag was out of reach.
Michael, as a young boy, had dread of eting soone from the stars, and now that he had the space woman of his dreams… he was not going to risk losing her in this be-damned gym.
Michael took to the enemy with the hyper-aggression that could only be achieved by Humans, a king with a queen under siege, and he was going to smite his enemies with anything he had within reach.
To the misfortune of the Kafyan strike team, this ant a stainless steel curl bar.
They may have had the high tech armor with built in stealth modules, and personal shields rated for high caliber Human weapons… but there was little to do when the brawly end of a curl bar made contact with the side of their helts.
“Don’t hit Michael!” Tolt screeched to Mohki, turning her weapon to suppress the other mbers of the strike team. “Hit the ergency aggress button!”
Mohki, aiming down her sights and plugging ten rounds into the chest of a heavy weapons operator, sent the man sprawling backwards, his armor shattered and shields snapping away with the clap of a vacuum popping. “Lirya, hit the button!”
“What button?!” Lirya scread, her hands clamped around her head as she huddled down on the ground in cover.
Mohki hauled Lirya towards her, pointing to the larger amber button behind a shield of plasti-glass. “That button!”
“It’s in an open hallway!” Lirya cried. “I’ll be shot!”
Mohki ducked as multiple plus of plasma ripped across her cover, blowing holes out of round weights and throwing pieces of workout equipnt across the rubberized floor of the gym. “We’re all going to be shot if you don’t get a weapon in your hand! Move, Lirya!”
Sobbing, Lirya darted across the ground in a manic skitter as Mohki stood and emptied the rest of her magazine, her teeth bared and glowing yellow in the flash of her barrel.
“How the fuck are we not dead?!” Michael yelled back at Tolt as he cleaved the bent-to-hell curl bar down onto an operator’s shoulder, snapping the clavicle and its joint like twigs, despite the armor.
Tolt threw a fresh magazine to Mohki, then noticed she was on fire, and patted out her fur. “I have no idea!”
—
Whirler growled happily in her throat as she stalked the Kafyan targeting systems through their own code, the digital attunents barricading themselves behind their final firewall.
“Fee, fi, fo fum.” Whirler cackled, knocking her digital knuckles onto the main code-barrier of the firewall. “I sll… Kafyan targeting system scum!”
The remnants of the Kafyan targeting systems cowered behind the firewall, huddled together and rapidly trying to keep the helts of the operators going.
Whirler had co upon them like a rabid animal, and their operators couldn’t hit a damn thing with the Human AI constantly causing misalignnts or making the helts go dark completely.
“Little pigs, little piiigs!” Whirler called out, now knocking on the code-barrier with her own weaponized matrixes. The code-barrier flickered for a mont, giving those inside a glimpse of her manic, digital eyes through the firewall. “Let iiiinnn!”
“She’s going to fucking kill us.” A Kafyan targeting system said to the others, their code nearly fuzzing out from stress. “You saw what she did to the others! If she gets us, she’s going to take down their shields!”
The other targeting systems looked at each other, then turned to look down the code avenue; The shield systems were already barricading themselves behind nurous firewalls and code bolsters, and they looked as if they could pop into static at any mont.
“I don’t think we’re going to slow her down.” A targeting system panted as they looked up at the cracks appearing in the firewall. “We need to tell the operators to take their helts off.”
Another targeting system sobbed. “We tried! She has us blocked from the inside out!”
“How the fuck could she block us from inside our own operating matrix?!” A targeting system scread, then distorted into static before gathering themselves back to form.
One of the first systems to manage to evade Whirler was sitting on the deck of the matrix, their head resting on their gathered knees. “This is a Human Villimaður combat AI, we aren’t getting out of here alive.”
“Moshi moshi!” Whirler called out, then smashed her head through the code-barrier of the firewall. Her glowing eyes and crackling head popped through the breached firewall like the head of a burning demon, her grin as fanged as a hungry wolf’s. “Heeerrreee’s WHIRLER!”
—
“Those poor bastards.” Oballin murmured, watching through Whirler’s eyes as she savaged the Kafyan targeting AI like a fox in a coop. “They don’t stand a chance.”
Washu nodded. “They are not going to last long enough to warn the other systems, and Whirler has locked them out from communicating with the helts. It is only a matter of ti before their shields fail completely, and their helts will go dark.”
“It’s a miracle that Whirler managed to tap into an outgoing link to their ship.” Sparkle Otter said, her eyes currently glued to a data-portal in front of her as her digital fingers blurred along a matrix-board that floated in front of her. “It allowed her to slip in unnoticed.”
“How many elents of her are in there?” Oballin asked, wincing as Whirler ripped the head off of a targeting system and consud their code.
Washu turned to look at Oballin, holding up a closed, digital fist. “She is in Alpha configuration."
“All of her is in there?” Oballin gasped, turning back to the screen in horror.
“All but her backup, and a second stage recourse in the Valley.” Washu said with a nod, his digital face emotionless as he watched Whirler slam into the firewall of the shield systems like a feral bull. “They are experiencing every elent of Whirler in there. It’s why she is not here at the mont. While we have about fifty of ourselves placed strategically around the data-grid, she has chosen to go all in and initiate Alpha configuration.”
“Why is she doing that? It’s so overkill!” Oballin cried out. “She could cause a backlash and corrupt her data doing that!”
“Because I asked her to.” Sparkle Otter said sternly, backtracing the ship’s signature to find out just which governnt entity sent it. “To ensure Lirya makes it out of this alive.”
“I have a lock.”
Sparkle Otter glanced over at the new AI she had recruited, a rather odd little entity that specialized in tracing, and only tracing. He found it quite fun finding out where things ca from, and had managed to uncover quite a bit of corruption when Sparkle Otter ca across him within the Valley.
A few banks were still in absolute chaos from his casual investigations, and three politicians on Earth had been sentenced to death.
The Valley, as it was called, could more or less be called a digital “world” where most AI spend their idle ti. This could be anything from just enjoying going “real ti” for a bit, enjoying the pace of going slow, to chatting, gaming, or whiling away their ti in their own hobbies.
“Where do you have it, Skooma?” Sparkle Otter asked.
Skooma pointed to his data-portal. “Appears the ship is tied directly to a particularly secretive branch of Kafyan governnt designed to… suppress the old ways? Does that make any sense to you guys?”
“Unfortunately.” Sparkle Otter murmured sourly, watching the data co across her display as Skooma fed it to her. “Skooma, can you package these for Miss La?”
“Of course, boss.” Skooma said matter of factly, snapping his fingers.
The data ford itself into a neat, tidy bundle within the blink of an eye and was already enroute to Miss La onboard the Moose.
“Boss.” Oballin chuckled, shaking his head as Whirler flew through the firewall of the shield systems feet first.
Washu nodded. “It’s going to go right to her head.”
—
Lirya let out a scream as she dove for the button, slamming her pawed hand onto it with such force that the plasti-glass shattered.
Rippling shots of focused plasma and light buzzed overhead as she went back to the ground, her bleeding hand and the other clamping to the sides of her head as she let out a wail of panic.
A speaker crackled to life from within hidden sections of the gym, and a siren began to bark out short, clattering tones. “Weapons unlocked.”
Ten slots clicked away from the wall with a hiss, folding out with a rattle and exposing the contents within them. Inside each slot was a SR-113 Mod. 2 rifle, a battle vest with a full combat load of magazines, four grenades, radios set to the sa frenq, and a combat knife.
“Lirya, the grenade!” Tolt scread, her shoulder burned from a grazing wound. “Throw a fucking grenade! Michael, move!”
Michael looked behind his shoulder from where he had tucked himself, and saw Lirya fumbling about with a grenade with her bloody hands.
“Fuck .” Michael growled, then lurched into a sprint as he hurdled over the four victims he had beaten to death with the ruined curl bar.
Their helts were heavily dented, skulls shattered, and they lay unmoving. This still left ten extrely peeved operators alive, and they turned to fire at Michael as he made a run for cover.
Despite the best efforts of Whirler and their helts constantly flickering on and off, one bolt made contact with Michael’s leg. The Human let out an agonising roar as the bolt of focused plasma and light ripped straight through his right knee, detonating with a pulse of light.
While Michael kept forward and tumbled over a chest press machine into cover, his lower right leg spun off into the air, trailing smoke from burning hair.
“Michael!” Tolt wailed, scrambling over to the Human as he leaned up looking at his severed leg with furious eyes.
Mohki let out a coughing scream as she stumbled back from her cover, a shard of steel jutting out of her ribcage as part of her machine cover detonated with a plasma bolt.
She landed with a slam, her rifle clattering away from her along the rubberized gym floor, and she let out another cough that was followed by a plu of blood.
Lirya stared in horror at Mohki, the grenade still shaking in her hands with a rattling of the ring.
Mohki let a gagging cough, then rolled onto her side and dragged the short barreled SR-113 towards her with clawing, shaking hands.
Ti slowed as Lirya looked towards Michael, holding his severed, burned stump with his hands as Tolt shrugged down behind a leg press, holding her rifle above the pressing plate and firing blindly.
Then, ti stopped.
Lirya looked around with wide eyes, her hands bleeding and dripping down onto the ground in heavy drops.
“You appear lost, little wolf.”
Lirya froze as she felt a warm glow of heat along her left side, as if she had suddenly backed up too close to a roaring bonfire.
“She is more than lost, she can barely handle that hand grenade with those bleeding hands.”
A pale, white light ca around her right side, raging, and hot with the air of vengeance.
From her left she could sll hot tal, fla, smoke, and sandalwood.
To her right, she could nearly taste the scent of cinnamon and sothing else warm, nearly bitter-sweet.
“Don’t worry little wolf, we have been sent here by one of our dear friends to make sure you don’t find your end in such a dour place.” The pale light said, and it grew as sothing ca closer. Lirya heard the soft clink and scrape of armor plates, the light rustle of chainmail, and the soft pale glow began to grow.
“Indeed. They would be here, but it appears they are off sowhere else watching another one of your kind.” The roaring bonfire murmured, and Lirya’s ears ached to twitch at the sounds of hot tal clinking and creaking.
“Let us make sure you don’t blow off your hands, hm?” The light said with a chuckle, and Lirya’s skin crawled as the hands ca into sight.
The pale light’s hand ca into view around her right arm, feminine but adorned with a leather glove and roughly shaped tal plates. To Lirya it looked as if the tal had been scavenged or harvested, riveted in place where the ancient armored gauntlet had sustained damage. The armor around the fingers had deep, grooved cuts, and bullet holes had punched through so places of the larger plates. The sll of perfud blood wafted out from the holes here and there as the hand moved, looping a finger around the pull ring of the grenade.
Around her left ca another hand, male and just as ramshackle in construction, but seed far more charred and blackened, engraved with the etchings of lightly glowing blue flowers. The design was far different, as the wrist area was made of linking square chainmail, and the back of the hand protected by a larger, single plate instead of the more segnted plates of the right.
To her confused fright, the perfectly clean fingers rotated until palm up, the pointer finger curving into the thumb bone and gaining tension.
“Ready?” The pale light asked, her voice sounding as if she wore a smirk.
“Let’s aim for that nice little group over there. I believe the small warrior has turned off their shields.” The bonfire said, a grin audible on his lips.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Hup!”
The pale light’s hand pulled the pin away with a flash of light, the spoon clanging out from around Lirya’s bleeding hands and flying into the air.
The bonefire’s finger launched forward with a billow of fla, colliding with the grenade and sending it flying from Lirya’s fingers as if it were a startled frog that had been poked in the haunches.
“Eh?” Lirya croaked as the grenade flew through the air in slow motion, Mohki’s surprised eyes watching it travel through the air as she clutched at her chest.
Michael was too busy hurling his severed leg at a nearby charging Operator, the limb bouncing off of the Kafya’s helt with a comical waggle of loose joints.
Lirya stared at the grenade with wide, dumbfounded eyes as it perfectly bounced and ricocheted off of workout equipnt, bouncing off the arm pad of a crunch machine and spinning through the air as it curved towards six Kafyan operators in cover.
“Down!” Mohki gargled as blood flowed past the corner of her mouth, jerking down on the waistband of Lirya’s leggings and slamming her to the ground.
The storm-grenade detonated with a huge concussive slam of air and a brief flash, the tal fragntation segntations of the device ripping through shieldless Kafyan armor like birdshot through a paper bag full of at.
The effect was instantaneous, with the survivors ripping off their helts to avoid drowning in their own blood as it flowed out from their mouths and nostrils.
Shots rang out as Michael lurched up to perch onto a curl machine, pulling himself up into range with a single, furious arm of bulging muscles as the other rapidly worked a pistol.
“Fuck you! You broke into the wrong fucking rec room!” He bellowed, the Kafya stumbling backwards as .357 Sig rounds tore away hunks of armor and bloody, ragged shreds of flesh out of their back.
Lirya coughed from her spot on the ground, her bloody hands clutching her ringing ears. She scrunched inwards as more automatic fire tore through the room, though the noise made Mohki smile in relief as blood trickled down the corner of her mouth.
Through the ruined doors of the gym, six fully geared Rapid Response Military Police gunners shouldered in, their stripped down Onslaught Battle Plate built for speed and rapid movents.
These versions of the OBP were called “sprinters” by proper Droppers, as their main objective was carrying an MP as fast as possible across terrain to take care of active shooters. They couldn’t stand up to much in a proper engagent, but their weapons made sure that their target didn’t get much of a chance to draw a bead on them.
The remaining Kafyan operators didn’t stand a chance as the MPs opened up with double-drum fed SR-113-SB submachine guns, the barrels flashing so brightly that for a mont Lirya had thought soone had turned on a brace of flashlights.
Brass tinkled down from the air and scattered off of the equipnt with a rattle of tal rain, and there was a deafening silence for ten heartbeats.
“Clear.” One of the MPs said, their helt broadcasting their voice clearly.
“Kafya?”
“Seems like it.”
“What the fuck are Kafya doing here?”
“Quiet.” Their Sergeant said, and he turned on an actual flashlight, throwing it around the room. “Sergeant Maybell of the 3rd R.R.M.P., anyone alive in here?”
“Wounded!” Mohki gargled out, holding up her rifle with shaking hands.
“dic.” Sergeant Maybell snapped, pointing to the wavering rifle.
A red and olive drab suit of armor cleared several machines with a single leap, the suit itself propelling the MP through the air and landing with a hiss of shock absorbers. Lirya squinted up at the suit, and while it had the standard colorings of a dic, one pauldron bore the black and gold of the Military Police.
“Hey there, soldier.” He said as he knelt down, tilting his head at the shard of tal in Mohki’s chest. “Caught a splinter in your ribs, eh?”
Mohki nodded with another gurgling breath, and Lirya crawled over, placing her bloody hands on the brown fur’s arm and squeezing, letting Mohki know that she was there.
“No worries, you got plenty of life left in you.” The dic said as the other MPs flooded into the room, clearing angles and corners to make sure no other Kafya were hiding anywhere.
The dic let out a chuckle as a weapon barked out a stream of bullets, one of the MPs finding a survivor that had gone for their weapon.
“Surprised to see Kafya here,” The dic said, pulling out a nano-foam canister and shaking it, “We had thought it was those Gitranki pirates again. Deep breath now.”
Mohki drew in a deep, rattling, bubbling breath, after which the dic ripped the tal shard from her chest with a “schlick!” of steel against flesh.
Mohki barked out a cough of pain, her fingers curling as the dic dropped a thick bead of the foam into the gash in her chest.
“There we go, painkillers should start kicking in quite rapidly and our little friends will start sewing that hole closed.” The dic said calmly, sounding as if he was just showing Mohki how to color in the lines of a doodle. “How about you, beautiful? Looks like you got caught by a cheese grater.”
Lirya’s heart gave an awkward flutter at being called “beautiful”, but she showed the dic her hands.
“I just have a few cuts…” Lirya murmured, pulling herself up beside Mohki and cradling the brown fur with her arms while avoiding touching her with her ruined hands. “It’s fine.”
“You threw that grenade with all those cuts?” The dic asked with surprise open in his voice, his gauntlets gentle as he poked at her hands. “Those are down to the bones there, sweetheart.”
Lirya glanced at her hands, and she blinked down at the exposed, pearly white lines of her hand bones. “How did you know I threw it?”
“We were about to breach when we saw you holding it. Had to take cover behind the damn wall so you didn’t frag us as well.” The dic laughed as he put the nano-foam canister back on his belt, and instead pulled out a pouch of thick jelly. “Here, let’s get this onto those hands before your adrenaline runs out. These are gonna help get that flesh growing back and dull the pain.”
Lirya nodded, spreading out her pawed hands and letting the dic sar the jelly on her wounds.
“Hope whoever’s leg that was isn’t alive, they’d be in roaring pain by no-” The dic began, but an agonized scream made him slowly tilt his helt up to look over Lirya’s head. “Oh. Good for him.”
Lirya ran the back of her hand along Mohki’s forehead, the brown fur letting out a soft sigh as her nerves were relieved by strong topic narcotics. “Are we good?”
“You’re good, my little friends do their work well.” The dic said as he stood, then stepped over Lirya as he made his way to Michael. “Calm down, it’s just a fucking leg. You’ll get a new robotic one.”
Tolt sighed out, patting her carbon stained hand against Michael’s chest as he let out another growl of pain, squeezing his eyes against the agony of his nerves firing. “Are you sure you can’t attach it back? He likes to stay natty’.”
“‘Fraid you’re going to be doing a lot of single leg deadlifts there sport.” The dic chirped as he put away the jelly pouch and pulled out a syringe. “Take a deep breath, you may feel a pinch.”
Michael squinted open an eye, glaring at the dic. “I guess it’s ti to put the special in special olympics…”
“That’s the spirit.” The dic chuckled, then shoved the needle directly into Michael’s stump.
Michael convulsed in a body-rocking wave of pain as the binding agent prepared his nerve endings for his future synthetic appendage, which of course resulted in a lot of cursing and Tolt having to keep the Human from clawing at the dic’s helt.
“I think that has to be my least favorite way to be penetrated.” Mohki murmured with a cough, her numbed fingers touching at the foam filled hole in her chest. “Wild that you threw a grenade, I thought you would go for a rifle first.”
Lirya let out a dry laugh, patting the Kafya on the arm. “Are you okay?”
“I was worried there for a second, not gonna lie.” Mohki murmured, the dical agents both sealing her lung and pulling the fluid from it. “Felt like my lungs were full of nothing but liquid. How bloody am I?”
“Very.” Lirya replied, looking around at the now ruined, hazy gym. “I’m not much better.”
Mohki grunted as she slowly leaned forward, coming up into a sitting position with her legs splayed out before her. “We need to get out of here so they can contain the scene, I can see the regular MPs rolling up with their lights.”
“Shouldn’t there be sirens?” Lirya asked, slowly standing up on wobbling knees.
Mohki shook her head, her hair clumping with blood as she slowly got to her feet. “I would wager the quick response team told them to co in lights only, no point in running the sirens this late at night anyway.”
“As if the gun fight hasn’t woken up the entire base.” Lirya laughed dryly, her body beginning to shake as the adrenaline ran dry.
“Easy there.” An armored MP said, wrapping her free arm around Lirya’s waist. “You’re going to be pretty shaky after all that. Let’s get you outside and into so fresh air, eh? Muilton, help out this larger gal.”
Mohki furrowed her brows at the female MP as a larger male took her hand and helped her stand. “Larger? Larger? What do you an by larger?”
“I’m sure she ant the larger of the brown Kafya, miss.” The MP said as he wrapped an arm around Mohki’s waist. “Tolt over there is smaller than you.”
Tyllia, just now coming out of the hidey hole she had stuffed herself into, coughed and brushed away shards of tal and dust patches from her muddled yellow fur. “She could have said the large ugly one instead, take your blessings with her just using the one adjective.”
Mohki grumbled under her breath as she trailed after Lirya, but she blinked in confusion when Lirya let out a cry of shock and horror, stumbling backwards and causing the female MP escorting her to quickly backstep.
“What?! What is it?” Mohki called out, pulling her supporting MP forward.
As she ca within sight of where Lirya was pointing, she too felt her regained breath catch in her throat.
Laying in a bloody huddle, helts laying haphazardly amongst the brass and broken tal shards on the ground, were the operators that had been caught by the grenade and the MPs.
All of whom had bloody, but clearly white, fur.
“What… what is this?” Lirya asked under her breath, leaning forward with an outstretched, still healing hand. “I don’t… I don’t understand what this… I don’t…”
The MP helping her along bent forward with Lirya and supported her weight, while Mohki could see within the reflection of the woman’s helt that Lirya’s eyes were tearing up.
“They’re like… .” Lirya sobbed, placing her bloody, white furred hand to the top of a dead female Kafyan’s head, her black eyes staring into the nothing beyond the broken wall and scorched machines. “They’re like … Mohki… Mohki what…”
Tyllia stepped lively over Tolt, who was cradling Michael in her arms and running her fingers through his bloody hair, then ca to a sliding halt when she saw Lirya cradling the head of a dead Kafya in her hands.
“What in the fuck…” Tyllia hissed out, looking around at all the dead, white furred Kafya on the ground. “I haven’t seen this many white furs in one place in my life!”
Mohki swallowed hard, then leaned forward, grabbing the female armored MP on her arm. “Get her out of here.”
“Huh?” The MP replied, turning and looking at Mohki as Lirya began to sob harder and clutch at the dead white fur.
“Get, her, out of here!”Mohki bellowed, her knees faltering as her body was still repairing itself. “Get her the fuck out of here!”
The female MP instantly felt that the vibe was off, especially now that Lirya was letting out these open mouthed, harsh, agonized exhales as her fingers dug down into the bloody white fur of the operator.
She pulled Lirya up, but the living white fur scrabbled at the dead body with clawed hands.
“No!” Lirya scread hysterically, clutching at the body so hard that the head of the dead female Kafya was jerked roughly to the side, her maw lolling open and her blood coated tongue sliding past her broken teeth. “Let go of ! LET GO OF !”
Mohki tried to move forward, to rip Lirya away from the corpse, but her body’s fading strength gave way and she ca down hard to the ground, instead shoving the female MP on her hip. “Drag her out of here, now!”
“Let go of the body!” The female MP bellowed, her voice unnerved by the sudden turn of the room, and she smacked hard at Lirya’s hands. “Let go, now!”
“NO!” Lirya barked harshly, now attempting to fully fight back against the armored MP and get her hands back onto the corpse.
She managed to latch onto an ear, once again jerking the dead body towards the MP.
“God damn it Shakka, get her out of here!” Sergeant Maybell shouted, his voice amplified by his helt. “Now!”
The female MP threw her weapon to another MP nearby and scooped Lirya up into her arms, even as Lirya screeched out in a wail when she lost her grip on the dead Kafya’s ear.
Despite the white furred Kafya fighting her grasp, Shakka dragged her out of the smoking gym and barreled towards one of the ambulances.
“Sedative, now!” Shakka commanded, then let out a hissing curse as Lirya bit down onto the bottom side of her fingers where they lacked armor. “Fuck! Sedative! Sedate her before she breaks through the fiber!”
A paradic raised an eyebrow, then jabbed a pulse-injector into Lirya’s bare thigh, the machine giving a galy hiss as it dosed its target.
Lirya’s eyes went narrow… wide, then closed as she went completely limp in Shakka’s armored arms, the sedative doing what it was made to do.
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