Squatting on the edge of the forest, Ni’yell considered the compound. The boy was right. They could get in this way with little commotion. The problem would be getting out. In the distance, he could make out several short flight shuttles and at least one deep space shuttle. It would be more difficult to keep the target alive if they had to fight their way out.

  He was certain that there had to be nearly three hundred people inside the compound. Pulling out his recorder Ni'yell made a careful scan of the area, keeping an eye out for possible extraction points and making note of buildings and vantage points. Then he spotted an insignia on the only deep space shuttle; one that should not be there. Handing the camera to the boy he pointed back the way they came and turned back to watch. They would need as much information as they could get. Only one better at information gathering was Max, but the lack of technology made it trickier for him to access it.

  Hearing the boy slip into the forest, Ni’yell drew on a power that terrified witnesses completely fading into the shadows. As the shadows lay around him like a second skin he slipped over the edge of the cliff. Feet landing softly, he eyed the ledge above him. He may have to dip into the dark well of shadows to get everyone out safely.

  Sticking to the base of the cliff he began scouting. Carefully Ni’yell slipped through the shadows, moving from one building to the next. His ethereal appearance was wraith-like and created a complete picture of terror a shawling innately summoned. Catching the hint of voices that were somehow familiar, he paused. Locating the source of the sounds he attempted to listen to the conversation. Who was speaking? If Max had been there, he would have known. Needing to make out what was being said, he moved closer to the window. Tilting his head he placed his ear next to the crack and waited.

  “…not possible… “

  “….knew there…”

  “…more. Obviously…” Ni’yell exhaled. He had time. Surround by shadows he was nearly invisible. Almost as though Max was in his ear a light came on. He recognized the voice even as the speaker paused in front of the crack. Alpha was going to want both their target, the first speaker, and the second voice. “Look, I am well aware of the risks if we get caught, but the simple fact of the matter is we won’t get caught. They would have to know we were here and they…”

  Ni'yell clenched his jaw and resisted the urged to tear through the wall and beat the target and their guest senseless for personal gratification. That self control did nothing to eliminate the urge.

  Even as the speaker started moving, Ni’yell slipped away from the window and headed towards the ridge. It was clear that their target was here. It was the other voice that worried him. The mission was complicated enough without adding politics.

  Concern making him cautious, Ni’yell started back to his exit point. He spotted a sentry leaning against the cliff wall and hissed. Forced to wait he considered the conversation. There was danger in the second voice. His position a powerful one. There was little they could do if he flexed his muscles any. That a member of the Council of War and Peace was not only involved, but there in person chilled Ny’yell to the core in the scorching noonday sun.

  There seemed to be more going on than they had been told; the fact that the General was there could not bode well. What could so powerful a man want with Markus Hannabur? Irritated Ni’yell settled in to wait for dusk or the sentry to move on because he was unable to shadow walk without wasting energy that might be needed later.

  Markus Hannabur flexed his two muscled bionic arms and glared at the general sitting across from him. The arrogance and cowardice of the man showing up the way he did. He had not expected to see the general so soon, much less to have him show up with news of the Council of War and Peace sending a team to collect him. And not just any team. His team. How dare he show up to inform him that that bitch was after him? Turning to pace next to the window Markus snarled. Their location on Centra 4 was completely under the radar. Had been for the few years it took to recover from the damage the woman had caused. Anyone who could have passed on information or given away the location of the compound had been silenced by whatever means necessary.

  Killing had never bothered Markus, neither had torture. The fact of the matter was breaking people had been something that he was good at. The idea that the council thought him a big enough threat to send a team to stop him, made him smile ferally. If they thought she could stop him they were wrong.

  General Kagiris had known there was a risk in using Markus to start a rebellion. He was rash and quick to overreact, which made him dangerously out of control if let off his leash for too long. Letting Markus think he was more powerful than he was, was a growing nuisance. The vain man had nearly served his purpose. There had, however, been no other choice. Damaged in a power struggle, Markus had not stood a chance of recovering on his own. Just the damage that had been done to his arms had been a costly surgery, but Kagiris had decided that Markus would prove useful even for a short time, and even if he failed others were willing to fill Markus’ position.

  “The fact that the council even had enough information to begin searching for you, does not bode well. It is time to consider abandoning this compound and setting up somewhere else.”

  “No!” snarled Markus. “You said it yourself. It’s not possible for them to have enough information to find me. They would have to have better sources. Even if the council knew, there is nothing they can do about it. If they had the information then they would be doing more than send a useless tit to try and catch me.

  “Obviously dropping a team at some random location does not mean that there is a problem. They are, clearly, the unwanted team. Besides, I already sent my soldiers to find them. I can deal with that whore. Running every time they send someone in blind will only set us back. We do not have the time to run. Never mind the cost of such a move.”

  Kagiris crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat. Saying nothing he considered the man in front of him. It might be time to shore up a backup plan, but he had not made it to where he was without having learned when to keep quiet.

  A Boy’s Perspective

  Small enough to fit into places most could not get, a young pubescent boy scurried through the underbrush back to the strange woman. Why he thought he could trust her was out of his capacity to comprehend. Catching the sound of footfalls coming from his left, he froze to listen. Leaning in their direction, he hissed. There were too many of them to hope he could make the last stretch unnoticed and there were too many for a single patrol.

  If he was honest there were too many for three patrols and seemed to be heading the same way he was. Too many for the strangers? Looking at the object in his hands, the boy considered his options. There was nothing stopping him from running the opposite way. He owed the strangers nothing. The boy huffed and rolled his shoulders. Peeking out to be certain they were not looking at him, he darted forward; putting on a burst of speed the moment there were shouts to stop. Bullets zinged past his head as he raced towards the clearing. Tucking his hands to his chest he let go of a force he normally avoided at any cost; unleashed, it exploded and surged. Feeling his body shifting, his legs elongating, and torso distorting, he stumbled onward. He could feel the popping of joints as they shifted, adjusting to the changes his body was making. He hated it, the grotesquely bestial way he looked. The splotchy tufts of oily hair and tainted claws. The putrid odor and the misshapen maw. He hated, even more, the way others looked at him… terrified...

  Micha

  Micha sat with her head down and considered potential threats. Slouched against the tree she slowed her breathing and allowed her body to relax, taking in what rest she could get. She knew that they could not stay there much longer or they risked being detected. It had been an hour since Ni’yell and the boy had left. Micha exhaled and began to stir. The wise choice was to circle wide and watch for Ni’yell along the way. Even without lifting her head, she knew that her team was readying to move. Lifting her head she looked at Rennick and nodded. Quietly, he slipped into the foliage and out of sight. “Holten, we can’t wait any longer. Pack up, we move in five.”

  Checking her gear, Micha locked her helmet in place and started after the panther; the others falling into place around her. Rennick appeared in front of her suddenly and lifted a hand. Turning his back to her, he edged his way towards the center of the clearing, gun at the ready. Micha squatted and waited. Feeling her teammates tense as they put their backs to her, she exhaled; her eyes closing and opening as slow as her next breath. Relaxing her pose she let whatever was out there come.

  There were few things that Rennick had not seen and even fewer that could make him tense. The wail that split the air sounded like a wounded predator and caused the team to lift their rifles nervously. Seeing the others flinch, Micha narrowed her eyes. It took everything she had not to bolt or tense, but she knew that they took their cues from her. Stepping forward in a crouch, Micha moved next to Rennick. She was unprepared for the beast that crashed through the foliage. It had to be nearly five feet high in its crouched position and she could tell it was breathing heavily.

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  Lifting her hand Micha gave the hold command. The beast held still, not moving any further into the clearing. It appeared to wait for her to move. Focused on its gangly arms Micha tried to see what it was carrying. Lowering her gun she stepped forward.

  “All eyes on the clearing edges. That racket was sure to catch some attention.” Micha moved towards the beast. Reaching behind her she slowly withdrew her water canister and unscrewed the cap. Mimicking drinking from the canister she offered it to the beast. Leaning forward she caught sight of the camera in its arms. Shifting her head, Micha heard movement coming from behind the beast. “Everyone at the ready!” Lifting her rifle, she stepped around the beast. As she passed it, she gently lowered it to the ground. Lifting her rifle she shouted, “Protect the boy!”

  With her back to the beast, Micha squatted down and tapped into her visor sensors. There was little thought required, it was more like instinct to her. Letting go she relaxed, falling into the natural gait that she had learned to use. Pushed to excel, Micha learned to expand her senses, to hone them into precise tools.

  For her, it became a matter of survival so it only made sense to separate each of her senses until she could magnify them. It made it possible for her to perceive in micro fractions. The minute changes allowing her to see more than her visor and ocular scope; shifting even a millimeter could be all that it took to dodge an enemy's attack. Registering the data her visor provided, Micha assessed her targets even as she monitored the members of her team. Each movement barely noticeable, yet it allowed her to stay in a far more stable pose for longer periods and still be a moving target.

  The day that she had been taken, Micha had been lost and the only person she found was the boy who stopped to give her directions. There had been no warning.

  One minute she was contemplating directions. The next thing she remembered she was locked in a pen with so many that it was uncomfortable. She woke to tears and angry murmurs. Surrounded by people who were angry and afraid and unsure of what was happening, she had kept herself quiet, unnoticed. For once she had been relieved by her boyish figure. One by one they were all rounded up into containers. Crouching next to the other boy, they had managed to survive. She could still see his face.

  The first time she had seen what would become her new home, had been from the edges of a pen full of filthy bodies. Being dirty and having a small frame had afforded her a few small courtesies especially since she was surrounded by men, sweat, and fear; yet by some stroke of luck, Micha had managed to keep her gender hidden. Even through the maleficent odors that permeated the pen it was impossible to miss the scent of fresh air.

  There was a fragrance that wafted through the stale that tantalized Micha’s nose. It was the odor that spoke of shrubs and trees and fresh earth. She wondered if the sudden increase of heat had been reentry into the atmosphere. She tried to see if she recognized any of the aromas drifting by. Part of her had hoped that she was back on Earth; the other half dreaded what reality had to offer.

  Being unable to recognize any of the scents curiosity finally reared its head. She wondered where she might be. She attempted to see passed the walls from where she stood and caught sight of an off-colored sky of purples, blues and greens. Standing on her toes she eyed the outside world. Catching a brief view of an entirely alien world, Makala had nibbled her lip. She watched as the boy was taken away by a nicely dress alien male. Tall and demanding attention, the stranger seemed to assess her. Saying nothing he turned and walked away.

  The sound of a fight breaking out behind her caused Micha to spin around. With her back to the door she attempted to stay out of the way. Knowing that fear and hunger were the largest causes of aggression she had quickly learned to keep her mouth shut. Watching as the brawl quickly escalated, she assessed the possibilities and hissed.

  At the rate they were going it would not be long before someone came to end the fight. Spotting the body flying mindlessly towards her she braced herself. Jumping at the last moment she used the momentum of the other body to propel herself to the ceiling. Bracing she managed to stay out of the way. Monkeying her way to the back, she waited out the battle.

  Intent on the brawl below and trying not to fall, Micha did not notice the open doors of the pen. Eyes going wide when she spotted the orbbed object that came flying in and instinctively tried to escape whatever it might be. Shortly after, she found herself a permanent resident of Keliv III.

  When she had been dumped on the strange planet, she had prayed that she would not have to fight off predators. What she ended up with was the meanest predator the planet had to offer. The only advantage she’d had over the others dumped with her was her agility and ability to survive any situation and above all her ability to learn.

  She refused to count on some unknown God’s grace to see her through it. She had become something of a master at dodging trouble. Thanks to Markus, Micha had learned very quickly to hide her pain. She managed to become a blank slate void of anything she did not want to be seen. Nevermore had she prayed for God's protection. Trapped on an unknown world, with an unknown language, and a sadist; there was certainly a need for divine guidance. Markus attempted to drive her passed the brink of destruction. All he had managed to do was cement her determination and willpower to survive him.

  Focusing back on the present, Micha counted six body signatures coming directly at her. Exhaling, she targeted the first one and pulled the trigger. Not waiting to confirm the shot, she aimed for the second one. Bracing her rifle, she counted her slow, steady, heartbeats even as her visor confirmed the next target. Hearing the sound of gunfire all about her she continued to take careful aim and continued to pick off the oncoming targets one at a time. Micha knew that it was more than skill that kept her alive. There were many names for it but whatever you chose to call it, it was that instinct that kept her focused; stirring her spirit's inner desire to survive. A whisper that urged her forward regardless of where she was. Her God needed even more amid the falling bodies.

  Trusting in that instinct she shifted her position to the right just a fraction. Behind Mitah was an enemy target. She focused down her scope and pulled the trigger. Seeing the body drop behind Mitah, she turned to her next targets. Widening her targeting view, she began scouting the next shot even as she fired. Catching sight of three heat signatures to her left, she adjusted her position and the angle of her visor and targeted once more.

  She continued to adjust, aim, and fire. Dropping targets even as they appeared in her sights, Micha knew the location of each of her teammates and proceeded to secure their positions as bullets flew around them. Her visor warned her of an incoming attack. Ignoring it she took out the body aiming at Desohta’s back. Feeling the round as it penetrated her bicep, Micha swung to locate the target that shot her. Seeing the nearest target fall she once again began clearing out her field of vision.

  Sweeping the field, Micha searched for any signs of movement. The sudden silence overwhelming. Feeling the sting in her shoulder she was reminded of her training with Markus. She had never held a gun before ending up on Keliv III, but that did not matter to Markus.

  “No! You stupid…” Markus had yelled. “You hold the rifle the same way you hold a cock! Stupid bitch! Firmly! Don’t chock the fucking thing!”

  Tearing the gun from her hands he tried to cuff her. Micha instinctively dodged thanks to the training of a few of the old dogs. She knew better. Dodging only made it worse. She didn’t have to look to know he was furious. Crouched on the ground, she waited. Markus moved towards her, fists clenched at his side. “Know your place.” Attempting to dodge again she found herself pinned to the ground; her arm behind her back. Forcing her arm further up her back, Markus leaned over her.

  Micha kept her face blank even as her mind screamed from the pain. Forced to endure him groping her as he brought his hand around her front to grip her throat, Micha fought against the urge to fight.

  “When I tell you to do something, you do it.” Gripping her throat, Markus stood up and lifted her off the ground. Dangling, Micha struggled to breathe. Clawing at his hand, she watched her sight start to blur. The sound of his laughter in her ears only served to anger her. She knew he was waiting for her to beg, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She’d take the beating before she would plead for an ounce of compassion.

  Hearing the deafening silence ringing in her ears, Micha shook her head and called for a perimeter check. Receiving the all-clear, she lowered her weapon and ordered her team to check the bodies for any information as she turned to see where the boy was. Cowering on the ground arms flung over its head the beast whimpered.

  Kneeling down next to the beast, she draped her hands off her knees. Micha turned to the group. “Damage?”

  Desohta nodded to Micha causing her sandy curls to bob, “Just you. Let me check that and bandage it.”

  Micha looked at her shoulder, “It’s not that bad. I can still move the arm. Pack it and we will deal with it later.”

  “Is that an order?” Desohta stiffened.

  Micha looked at Desohta and frowned. If she did not know better, she would have thought him miffed or insulted. She understood that it needed to be treated, but they need to move in case there were more coming their way. The longer they stayed there the higher the risk of them getting caught.

  Desohta knelt and opened his pack. Pulling out the disinfectant and the padded bandages, he looked up at her, “Ready?”

  “We need to be quick,” gun over her shoulder, Micha looked at the beast and sighed. “Anyone know what kind of beast he is?”

  “Lycantor. They are, like dragons, too often feared; with good reason. These beasts have the ability to rend anything they connect with into pieces. As soon as he calms down, he will be able to revert to his earlier form. I believe it’s a matter of practice?” Ni’yell replied. When the wolf brothers shrugged, Ni’yell squatted next to the boy and touched him gently, reassuringly. “Desohta be sure to stitch and clean it well.”

  Micha frowned again, “Excuse me? I understand that it needs to be treated, but it can wait until we find somewhere safer than the middle of a battlefield. It invites too much risk. That will also help him calm down,” she motioned with a casual wave.

  The shawling's ability to appear seemingly out of nowhere had ceased to surprise her, but the fact that he chose odd times to assert an order, leaving her to accept the command or undermine her second in command left her off balance and with little choice.

  The Shawling looked quietly at the woman before him and did not move. He waited for her to give a command or sit still and allow the medic to do his job.

  Huffing, Micha sat on the ground next to the boy and her fingers caressed the top of the boy’s head and ear tufts; ignoring the oily feel of the patchy fur. Not once did she look away from Ni’yell, tilting her chin just a fraction in defiance, she continued as Desohta began releasing the clamps on her armour.

  “The boy... lycantor? Gah!!” Micha flinched in pain. “Someone come up with a name for him. I am not yelling boy every time I want his attention. We can’t leave him here and he seems to be stuck …mid-change? Figure it out, Desohta because it will be easier to get him off-planet if no one knows what he is. I will deal with the repercussions later.”

  Do you, the reader, want to see more fr the main characters; ie personal moments with or without Micha