Galaluna, Military Base Omega, Genetic Science Wing, Year 1734 of the Fifth Age
'I've done it!' the scientist thinks victoriously to himself, 'My life's work is near completion. Soon, all shall know of my brilliance.'
Before the estranged genius and strapped to an examination table was a boy no older than ten solar cycles. Beads of sweat pour from the child's brow, and he pants in pain and exhaustion, too tired to cry. His onyx eyes hold a spark of ferocity, and his raven black hair is matted to his scalp. Squinting past the blinding examination light at his captor, the boy growls ferally at the man.
The doctor strides confidently over to the command console with a peacock like strut. He leans over the controls and activates the protein activation sequence. Electricity crackles and snaps in the air around the boy and pure energy flows into the fragile body.
The boy's pupils dilate to mere pin-points and he throws back his head in a silent scream as pure agony rips through his form. He convulses on the table as his genetic code begins to be rewritten. A large syringe descends from the ceiling above and positions itself right above were the child's heart would be. With a casual push of a button, the doctor sends the needle into his heart.
A final surge of energy marks the end of the genetic transformation, and the boy finally lays still but for the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.
Resonating thuds echo through the blast-door, and a gruff voice calls, "Dr. Mengele! We know you are in there! Come out with your hands on your head!"
"Mutraddi take you!" Mengele curses vulgarly at the soldiers threatening to knock down the door as he frantically tries to awaken his creation.
The shackles holding the boy to the table slide open inaudibly and his eyes crack open, revealing a pair of piercing vivid green eyes, his pupils now slits. He lifts his head off of the table, a predatory rumble rising from his throat.
"Yes," Dr. Menedele coaxes, "Awaken and protect your creator!"
Seeming to ignore the doctor's orders, the boy draws himself upright so that he is now sitting on the table. At the sound of a fusion cutter cutting through the door, his lips pull back in a snarl, revealing his now sharp teeth. Finally, the soldiers burst through the door, and Mendele roars to the boy, "Stop them! Protect me!"
Big mistake. The sadistic doctor's voice redirects the boy's attention to the source of the sound, and the mutated child recognizes the man who caused him such unbearable agony. To the soldiers' and Dr. Mengele's horror, the child morphs explosively into a monster. Spines spring forth from his back, his skin turns into a deep red-purple color, and the tips of his fingers form into long curved claws.
A high pitched roar resonates through the room and the small boy-creature leaps off of the table and into the rafters with blinding speed. The squad leader of the soldiers barks orders for his troops to spread out and find it while he and the second in command take down Mendele.
The soldiers never have the chance to close in on the doctor.
Dropping from the ceiling, the boy-creature sprints across the floor at Mendele. He leaps at the man, and with one powerful bow, the boy tears out the throat of his evil creator. The doctor gropes at his torn throat, trying fultily to repair the damage and staunch the bleeding.
"Free fire, free fire- gah! *gurgle*" the squad leader orders before the boy kills him as well. Lasers ping off of the walls as the panicking soldiers try to take down the boy-creature. One by one, the so-called warriors fell to the mutant's claws.
Blood was splashed against the walls, and the corpses of his adversaries lay strewn around the lab.
With a gasp of horror, the boy-creature returns to his original form, his eyes also returning to their original black. He drops to his knees amidst the carnage and holds his head in his hands. Now there was no way that he'd be able to fix his reputation now, not after this and the Manus incident with Baron, and he'd spend the rest of his life in the brig.
"Oh Lance…"
Lance's head snaps up only for him to see the king himself standing in the wrecked doorway. His eyes were wide in horrified awe. Lance once again drops his head in shame, unable to look at the man who gave him a second chance.
He listens to the surprisingly light footsteps of the king as they approach him. The footsteps stop before him, and the king says, "I saw enough, Lance… I'm so sorry."
"Just sentence me and be done with it."
The king kneels beside him and says, "No. This is not your fault, it was the cruelty of Dr. Mengele."
He stands and walks over to the computer console and accesses Mendele's data files. Finding what he was looking for, the king sighs, "A Malkieri hybrid…"
Lance froze. The DNA of a Malkieri Shadow Beast was now entangled with his? The Malkieri are a ledendary predator that inhabits the forests and jungles of Galaluna. They're intelligent to a sentient degree and choose to remain as they have always been from the dawn of their existance. Long ago during the Second Age, Galalunan hunters and warriors proved their worth by finding a Malkieri and doing battle with it. Many who dared to risk such a thing were slain themselves, but to return alive from such a challenge was a mark of a true warrior, and to have slain one of them earned the warrior in question a place as a leader within his family.
However, the Malkieri grew angry as the Galalunans continued to hunt and slay them, and soon, a war of devastating proportions broke out. Thousands of Galalunans died, and great swaths of forest and jungle burned. The bloody feud between the two races lasted for centuries, and this war forced all of the tribes of the Galalunans to unite under one banner lest the Malkieri destroy them all. The Malkieri, as physically powerful they were, were weakening as their home forests burned, and the planet itself screamed in agony.
The end seemed nowhere in sight and both species, whether the opposite side knew it or not, were dying. Then the fighting suddenly stopped.
Modern scholars have no idea why, but a legend popular with story telling parents is the only explanation that can be found. Legend has it that the first princess of the Galalunans rescued a Malkieri from a trap that her people set out for such a beast. Wounded badly, the Malkieri fled into the night. Realizing that the beast could have killed her without an effort even in its state but didn't and that it won't live through the night with its injuries, the princess finds some medical supplies and follows after it. She followed its bloody tracks to an earthen cave, and found it on the doorstep of death. Too weak to do anything else and soothed by the princess' voice and kindness, the beast allowed her to further help him. Remembering something an old wise man told her about how Malkieri blood had mystical qualities, the princess made a cut on her arm and tied her wound to one of the beast's. Their blood mingled and a bond was forged between them that night.
The princess' actions resulted in a psychic link between herself and the Malkieri she saved. She discovered that the beast she saved, Ra'ethek, was a high ranking alpha amongst the Malkieri, and thanks to her kindness, he would help her to end the war and would be her protector for life. Eventually, the two sides made peace, and the Galalunans swore to never hunt another Malkieri and to leave them in peace in their realm. Holding himself to his personal oath, Ra'ethek became the new queen's protector when her father stepped down from the throne. To this day, killing a Malkieri is a capitol crime and is punished by immediate banishment into the Malkieri realm, and a Malkieri Shadow Beast is a symbol of the royal family.
"Lance?"
"M'lord?"
The king sighs and says, "There are few options for what can happen from here. You can return to your classes and risk exposing yourself, you can run away, or you can hear me out on a proposition."
With wary eyes, Lance looks up at the king, "What is your proposition?"
"My daughter, Ilana, is very precious to me and our people, you understand?" Lance nods. The king continues, " I fear in the near future that she will be made a target of Galalunan enemies. They will try to take her for leverage or kill her, and they will become creative in their attempts, this I know. I also fear that even the royal guardsmen will not be enough to protect her.
"Lance, I want you to be Ilana's Shadow Guard."
Lance stared at the king, dumbstruck. To a soldier, the honor of being offered the position of Shadow Guard was beyond their most insane dreams and only the absolute best of the elite were ever considered for the job. The Shadow Guards got their name from the way they protect their charges. They 'shadow' their protectants and are very secretive. The saying amongst the military goes, 'If you don't see the royal's Shadow, all is well. If you do, shit is about to hit the fan.' Neither civilians nor military personnel 'accidentally' spot them, ever.
The ten year-old cadet stammers in a strangled voice, "Sir? A Shadow Guard? Why me? I'm not even an official soldier. I'll need years more of training-"
The king holds up his hand to silence him, "If you take the job, you'll be immediately entered into Spec Ops training, not to mention given time to hone your new abilities." The king looks the younger male in the eye, "Please Lance, I ask you not as your king but as a father trying to protect his daughter. You may not believe me when I say this, but I' truly believe that you are her Umbramico."
The young warrior holds his king's piercing gaze for a few moments. This man, this king, was offering to place his most precious treasure, his only child, into his care. He now had no doubt in his mind that this man truly believed in him. To deny this man, who had already given him so much, this request would disprove that belief.
So he answered, "It would be my honor, sire. I swear on the lifeblood running through my veins and the breathe in my lungs that I will protect her."
The king smiles, pleased, "Thank you, my boy." He draws himself upright and says, "Come on, you won't be going back to the Academy, and I shall send someone for your personal effects."
The new Shadow Guard nods and attempts to stand, but as he does so, a wound on his side becomes apparent. A round had found its mark on Lance, and now a shallow gash bled from his left side. Feeling the pain, Lance winces but says nothing, but the king immediately sees the wound. He pulls out his communicator and says gently, "Lawry?"
The driver of the king's transport answers, "Yes sire?"
"I want you to pull around to Bay G12 and pick up a passenger waiting there. He is to be in Ilana's care, so take them home."
"What about your sire?"
"I have some business to attend to here."
"Right your majesty. I shall return as soon as I am able."
"Thank you Lawry." He then contacts Ilana, "Ilana?"
"Yes father?" A young girl's sweet bell-like voice answers, "Is something wrong?"
"No darling, but there is a boy here who is in need of your help. He is bleeding and hurt, but will you take care of him?"
Always wanting to be of aid to others in need, Ilana does not hesitate to agree, "Of course! I'll get him all patched up, you can count on that!"
"Thank you dear." The king turns his attention back to Lance and says, "Go through those doors and get in the vehicle. I'm going to have a little chat with your headmaster."
At this order, Lance pales but does what he is told, 'I'm in no condition for the princess to see me.' And he was right. His uniform jacket and shirt were torn, tattered, and covered in both his adversaries' blood and his own, and his face and hair were in a dismal state of disarray. He staggered out to the docking bay attatched to the science wing to find the transport waiting for him as the king told him.
A girl no older than he was standing next to the open hatch of the transport. Her short blonde hair is swept back, and her large blue eyes shimmer with compassion and concern for him, widening when she sees just how bad his state is. For the first time, his heart skips a beat when he lays his eyes on her.
He halts a few feet from her and hazards a bow, wincing as he does so. This movement causes his wound on his side to worsen, and Ilana does not miss this detail.
"Don't do that! You're hurting yourself!" She scolds as she moves to pull him upright.
Lance sees this sudden movement and staggers a few steps backward to avoid her touch. Ilana stops instantly, frozen. His evasion was unexpected and swifter than she thought possible for his condition. She bites her bottom lip, uncertain what to do.
Lance stood as if ready to flee or fight and looked akin to a wounded animal, his eyes wary and cautious. This feeling came off of him in waves, and Ilana could feel the predator staring out at with startling clarity, though she could not identify it as such. She swallows and whispers soothingly, reaching out slowly with her hand and inching forward, "It's alright. I wish only to help you." She continues to murmur to him until she finally reaches him and places her hand on his shoulder.
At her touch, the wariness in his soul leaves. He calms and is suddenly hit with the true extent of his fatigue. Somehow sensing this in him, Ilana swiftly maneuvers herself under his unwounded side and supports him as he suddenly slumps. They sway for a minute, but Ilana proves to be stronger than she appears and is able to help him stay upright.
"I got you," she whispers.
Lance looks over at her and offers her one of his rare smiles. She responds with her own and assists him into the transport. Ilana leads him to the bench that stretches across the back of the cab and helps him lie down on it. She sits on the edge of the bench beside him and says, "Lawry will you take us home please?"
"Of course princess."
"Thank you," she says and then returns her attentions to Lance. She moves to his head and lifts it onto her lap. She sooths his messy hair and presses a bandage to his wound to stop the bleeding.
Under her gentle ministrations, the worn out cadet relaxes and falls into sleep. As she watches him, Ilana frowns and whispers to herself, "What happened to you?"
Hours later…
Lance's eyes open, and he finds himself in a completely alien place. He was now in a sleeping chamber, judging from the furniture, that was simple yet very elegant. He attempts to sit up but finds that he is unable to do so with a grunt of pain. "Princess?"
This sound alerts his caretaker to his wakefulness. Ilana turns to him with a tender, compassion-filled smile, "Good, you're awake." She lays her hand on his forehead to check his temperature.
Lance was gone at that moment. When before he would have just treated his assignment as a duty to be fulfilled, he realized the moment that she touched his skin that his life now was centered on his passion for protecting this girl. He was hers, whether she knew it or not.
"Here," she hands him a cup of water, "You need to get your fluids back up."
He takes the water from her gratefully and gulps it down ferociously to quench the desert that had taken hold in his throat. When that was gone, she took the empty one and promptly handed him a full one. He smiles to her again in gratitude and murmurs, "Thank you, m'lady. Your kindness is more than I deserve." He knew that she recognized him from the Manus incident.
"Everyone deserves help." Ilana studies him for a minute and asks, "You never told me your name. Would you?"
"Lance, m'lady."
"You don't have to call me that you know."
Lance looks at her confused but says, "What else am I to call you princess?"
Ilana smirks, "How about my real name?"
Lance blushes and nods, "Alright, m'l- Ilana."
She laughs, "There, was that so hard?"
Lance laughs too, "No, I guess not." He suddenly yawns and they are both taken by laughter again. Ilana smiles, "I should let you rest Lance." She reaches over and turns out the light, "Good night, Lance."
With utmost endearment in his voice, he whispers back to her in the darkness, "Good night, Ilana. Thank you."