Chapter 20: Hostile Residence

Thin blankets of clouds gave way to something large lumbering through. There was nothing to see, but a slight distortion against the pale blue sky, to which these wisps yielded to. But, even if eyes could not perceive what traveled across Sanctuary's heavens, ears would hear the ever-persistent rumbling of thrusters groaning in the air.

Inside the Iceni's engine room, the well-maintained, yet worn engines lay in the center of endless clutter. Stacks of boxes with a dulled metallic sheen filled the room, leaving what little mess there was on the floor to be stacked haphazardly into piles. Victor was hunched over the control panel, keeping his arms scrunched to the side; for each flank was occupied with a stack of three metal crates.

Ovosh lay sitting suspended haphazardly atop a pile of junk. Her head was bowed down, while her eyes were glued to her twiddling thumbs. Two metal crates provided adequate support for her to lean against. A low sound rumbled one of the crates. The hollow slab shifted, as if something was moving inside it. Ovosh pressed her ear against the offending crate. She immediately pulled back when she felt the sensation of an animal tongue licking the interior.

Occasionally, Victor would shoot a look, of what Ovosh would describe as absolute disgust towards her, though she did not know the reason why. They were not the only ones occupying the room, for Victor's parents had also accompanied them. Mrs. Smitter was leaning closely over the boy, inquiring about what he was to do next, while occasionally devoting a twitching eye to the mess upon the ground. Meanwhile, Mr. Smitter stood back, his hands crossed, content to simply looking over his son's shoulders.

The common area of the Iceni was not free from the clutter of transportation. Metal crates occupied most of the living space. Upon the small side booth, Phonium lay slouched between two containers. Across from him, the bulky armored form of Oriko was almost indistinguishable from the cargo. Within the metal jungle, even someone of her imposing posture could blend in, provided the suit they wore was the correct shade.

For several minutes, all Phonium and Oriko did was maintain eye contact. Phonium cleared his throat, and let out a low grunt. Oriko responded with a shrug of her shoulders, before placing a hand on her cheek. Her large black eyes shifted to the cockpit entrance, tearing away from her conversational partner.

The cockpit remained unmolested by the metal crates. Percy was seated in the pilot's chair as usual. What was unusual was that this time, he operated still as a statue. Movement could only be observed in short sequences, when he had to fine-tune a setting that had briefly escaped equilibrium.

Standing right next to the lanky captain was the diminutive form of Reitoko. His posture was straight, his arms were crossed, and his tail waved idly by in the air, as if it possessed a will of its own. The Arcosian was content in allowing the co-pilot's chair to go unoccupied. His eyes shifted as they scanned the outside through the transparent canopy of the cockpit. He would occasionally look at Percy. Black-stained lips would part, as if to initiate a conversation. Potential words would then be stifled, however, for Reitoko would be silently reminded of the captain's proficiency for casual slander.

Reitoko's head rotated to the back, pricking up a couple of small rattles. Yet, nothing gnawed at his senses to indicate something, however minor, was off. This, of course, made him nervous, as he tapped a three-clawed foot on the floor.

"Hey boss," Percy initiated, breaking the silence. There was a noticeable lack of mischief in Percy's voice, "I think I'll be fine up here, especially with the autopilot on."

Reitoko's finger immediately went to his rather small chin, as he mused with a small, "Hmm."

The eyes of Percy nearly rolled back into his skull, as he witness this. An annoyed frown occupied his face, but his boss gave him little attention.

"You want me gone from here, I know that," Reitoko pondered, not even bothering to face the captain, "but I don't know the reason why.."

"You know me boss," Percy growled, "take a wild guess."

It was now the Arcosian's turn to be agitated. He finally made eye-contact with Percy to notify him of his minor folly. In that moment, however, revelation struck him, and he peered back into the entrance of the cockpit. The slumped shoulders of the armored warrior sitting at the table told him all he needed to know.

"I can usher in Oriko if you want," he offered in a negotiable voice, "I'm not stopping you from talking to your partner."

Percy's usual mischief entered his own voice, as he retorted, "Gee boss, don't you even pay attention to us peasants?"

Reitoko's eyes could have fallen out of his sockets from how they rolled. "By Frieza's tail," the Arcosian swore, "You really do have a knack for vexing every creature in the known universe, don't you!"

"As well as the desire," Percy added on, slowly starting to smile, "Of course, if you can't handle it boss, you're free to depart. "

"Honestly captain, if you wanted me gone, you could have asked politely. I would have obliged." Reitoko admitted, rubbing a temple with his hand, "There's a time and a place for your spiteful tongue."

The Arcosian could have passed himself for a snake as he added on with a hiss "And here and now is neither the proper time nor the place!"

Percy's tone took a conciliatory route, as he explained, "Reitoko, you're the boss, but I've been in the sneaking and mischief business longer than you have. Trust me, there is always a time and a place for my spiteful tongue."

And, as a punctuation of this statement, did Percy stick out the barbrous organ, allowing it to hang over his chin, before retracting the slippery serpent back from whence it came.

Reitoko simple shook his head. He glared at Percy, who had regained his usual swagger. Mischevious eyes looked past the vexed Arcosian, into the black eyes of Oriko. The captain could not help but be amused that such interaction with his boss, had produced a small smile upon the armored warrior.

"There ought to be some remedy for this," rambled Reitoko, shaking Percy from his trance, "I'd have to deduct your pay every time you make such venomous comments. With the amount of animosity you produce, it's a wonder we haven't been detected, even with our cloaking device on."

"You don't pay me."

"Yes, you best be thankful about that." the Arcosian warned.

From out of thin air, the bulky silhouette of the Z's primary freighter materialized. Where azure sky was almost as a mirage, now became occupied with rusted, riveted, heavy metal. The Iceni lumbered along, heading towards a distant settlement threatening to be swallowed by vast dunes.

As the town drew close, several differences from the others across Sanctuary were made clear. Roads were laid straight, and intersected in rather neat grids, while the same pathways in other settlements turned and weaved with the structures themselves. And, while the buildings were drab and earthen just as any other, there was a certain precision and orderlyness to their appearance.

The Iceni descended, and touched down upon the local landing pad near the outskirts. While not much more complex than the town before them, the pads were far cleaner, and the simple metals of the pads were less worn and stained. There were also an abundance of personnel attending to each of the ships.

Z was immediately attended to, once the occupants made their way out of the ship. The man attending to them was in a dark gray military uniform. His posture was impeccable, and the questions he asked to the silver-tongued Percy were straight and to the point. Nodding sharply, the attendant pulled out a handheld device, typed in a few sequences, then departed, waving in yet another vessel.

Ovosh shielded her eyes from the glare of the twin suns as she stepped outside. She was following Mr. Smitter out, while Victor was to her back. While Ovosh would occasionally steal glances behind her, she could only observe the young mechanic deliberately avoiding eye contact.

A paved dirt road extended from the landing platform, leading straight into the heart of the town. Upon the entrance, an archway of darker material with a green metallic sheen hung over it. Engraved upon it were the words, "Welcome to Sunder." The letters were styled in an older format, and gave off a golden luster so rare in the dusty hovel of Sanctuary.

Percy marched back from the attendant, giving a small curt nod to Reitoko. Reitoko then nodded to the crew just exiting from the ship. Phonium and Oriko immediately turned back and disappeared inside the Iceni. When they reappeared, Ovosh could feel her shoulders sink, as both of their faces were hidden behind stacks of metal crates.

Ovosh's sight ahead was soon impeded by the same metal crates. The stack of three easily towered over her head. A small benefit, however, was that it provided relief from the harsh twin suns.

The amount of navy-blue uniformed officials did not lessen as the members of Z passed. The faces of the citizens upon the crowded streets were no less dirty or rough than those in other towns, but in each of their eyes, there was a focused glint. Looking off to the sides, Ovosh could not spot the spontaneous, petty conflicts that would erupt in the previous town. While the tranquility did help calm her mind, she also felt a disturbing emptiness which had not been known in other towns.

A high, desperate howl sounded off in the distance. Ovosh immediately straightened upon hearing this. Her ears led her eyes to the source of the disturbance. She could see several people, including some of the young ones gathered head off in the direction of the phenomenon. Ovosh's brown eyes followed them, for she could sense the thrill of potential conflict enter her veins.

Her eyes settled upon a larger gathering, where the crowd of children had decided to go to. There was a short post, made out of unrefined wooden material. Attached to it was a rusty chain, ending in a pair of thick cuffs.

Restrained in the cuffs was a hairy wolf-man, akin to those who were part of the White Fang. He wore no articles of clothing. His knees were upon the ground, and his hands were held out in front. Ovosh could not see the color of his eyes, for they were shut tightly. Most tellingly, upon his back, lay several of deep red gashes. They were fresh, staining and matting the grey fur around it, into a sick dark black.

Behind this creature, another uniformed man stood. His face was as still as stone, but there was vigor in his actions as he threw one of his arms forward, carrying with it a thin black chord that raked most viscously across the wolf-man's back. Another howl of agony rang out of the streets, soon followed by cheering and jeering of the civilians around the creature.

A child adorned in ragged brown robes ran up to the wolf-man, holding a metal cup filled with water. The creature opened his mouth, the rows and rows of sharp canines far less threatening than usual. His tongue was held agape, and for a brief moment, his eyes opened, the shadow of relief passing over.

That disappeared when the water crashed against the creature's face. He barked and growled, scrabbling around, as the child retreated back into the crowd, laughing all the way. The thin black chord of the indifferent official was then struck across the wolf-man's parched maw, sending him face-down into the sand.

Excitement had long been drained from Ovosh's veins. Her stomach churned in the most uncomfortable of ways. She could even feel moisture gathering in her eyes, And, within herself, she felt a familiar burning feeling, volatile rumbling returning with a vengeance. She had wished to relieve her hands of these crates, and strike those who made merry of suffering.

A cold hand fell on her shoulder, and she immediately turned to see who it was. Reitoko's hard, red-eyed stare met hers. But, she could sense sorrow behind the icy glare of the Arcosian.

"Ignore them." he instructed.

Ovosh attempted, but could not tear her eyes from the scene. "Can we not assist that creature?" she protested, taking care to keep her voice low.

"We can," came the baritone voice of Phonium. He had stopped to the side of Ovosh, and looked even more sorrowful than the Arcosian. "And by doing so," he continued, "We'll set the whole town against us. We won't be able to operate here any longer. He wasn't the first there, and he certainly won't be the last. But ..."

The Namekian closed his eyes. Observing Oriko, Percy and the Smitters march on ahead, he began to move, but not before punctuating, "Perhaps someday ..."

Finally, Ovosh was able to tear her eyes from the scene. The rumbling within her had begun to calm. Rash decisions had left her, for the moment.

Ovosh could feel the weight of the crates begin to lessen, and she felt lighter on her feet as she walked. The same could not be said for Percy and the Smitters, who appeared to have been caught in mud as they struggled with their loads.

Despite the slug-like pace the group had to take to accommodate their less endowed members, they made it across town in only half an hour. Near the edge of the town limits, where civilization abrubtly ended in a sea of sand, there lay an even taller structure. Such was its height, it was clearly visible even from the other side of the settlement.

Percy dropped his crate with a definite thud as they stood in front of the building. The construction was such that Ovosh had not seen in her entire life. It lacked the rugged humbleness of the typical Sanctuary building, the pompous majesty of the tournament arena, and the utilitarian cleanliness of Imperial design. The roof of the building was of dark material, sloping out until it formed a point that stabbed the deep blue sky. Upon each corner , a design resembling a reptilian, predatory composed of dark green material jutted out, threatening to be unleashed upon the general populous and consume them.

Below it, red earthen material stretched down, until another structure much like the roof sloped underneath. This design continued, as if several small houses were stacked upon each other like a tower. This stopped at the base, which was slightly wider than the top, and could easily fit two Iceni's running through it.

The group was currently in front of the entrance to the tall structure, a wide double door that was easily double the height of Oriko. The handles were ornately designed, the shine of gold material clearly visible, despite the shadow of the sloping roof overhead.

Ovosh looked back at the civilians, few paying the newcomers mind. "This is particularly more exposed than the last time." she commented.

"For all their faults," Reitoko explained, "the NTF are rather tolerant of our little hideout. I'm sure Koth has an ulterior motive behind this, perhaps he's hoping we become enemies by proxy with the White Fang, should they attack. But, there are great advantages to operating in his backyard. While I hold my allies close, it is especially key that I hold my enemies closer."

Oriko had set down her containers, and approached the entrance. A large armored hand grasped one of the door handles, designed as the same creatures which loomed upon the roof, threatening to consume the large woman's hand. No such thing occurred, and with a low rumble, the doors moved, officially welcoming Z to their newest residence.

...

Desert winds had picked up, yet the sleek, rounded exterior of Z's old compound remained intact. No longer would the figures of various members venture out and fly about. All that was left was emptiness.

Yet, the compound was would not be lost for occupants for longl. A small dark shape hovered just outside. The spacecraft was clearly powered off, yet still, it hung suspended in the air, as if it were forbidden to touch the planet.

Despite Z's departure, footsteps still echoed throughout the dark halls. The footfalls were sharp and hard, characteristic of steel-toed boots, or heavy feet.

The creak of the door, and the flick of a lightswitch revealed the suited form of Mura. Her fiery gaze threatened to eviscerate the entire room she had entered. Despite activating the light, the room still remained a subject of darkness, a dusky cavern at the end of the hall. A hand traced over the mahogany desk. It was stripped bare. No pictures, files, devices or anything other adorned the dustless surface.

Mura's eyes then shifted to the side of the room. She beheld empty power sockets, and a few power chords slithering through the ground. Yet, no electronic was present for her to tamper with.

The mighty sound of a door slamming shut ended Mura's visit to her former master's personal quarters. She had begun to briskly make her way across the hall, but slowed when she saw another form.

Ratcliff approached cautiously from the other end. He was not smiling, and with each step, felt his legs shaking. His eyes, once full of sadistic jovial glee, were now tired from the sight of many cleaned out rooms. He felt something in his throat, and took to swallowing whatever it was as his boss approached.

Mura took a good look back at the room she had just emerged from. Turning back to the mad scientist, she stated, "Our quarry left to ground, they knew we were coming here."

Ratcliff's head hung down, "I'm sorry, I ..."

His apology was swept aside with a backhand across the face, which sent the scientist on a corkspin. He was stopped by the wall. The whole compound appeared to shake from the impact. A fine coating of dust caked the downed madman. Mura took a moment to admire some of the overhead lights swaying from her recent disciplining techniques.

"Brilliant scientists do not make brilliant tacticians," she noted, shaking her head, "There are dozens of bases that Z had set up across this wretched planet, and I'm quite sure I wasn't shown all of them."

Ratcliff rose from the ground, appearing unaffected from the most part. He rubbed the cheek that had experienced the back of Mura's hand, which now throbbed with pain. Upon Mura's sharp stare into his eyes, the man's remaining biological instincts forced him to back away. Sickly green eyes dared not to meet her azure glare. He could only look at himself in shame at his display. "I know you've been wanting to give that pale freak the good one-two," he began to propose, "But what are we going to do now?"

"As far as I'm concerned, this is our new home," Mura declared, her feet firmly planted in the compound, "This is a minor setback. As you know, there are some things that Z are drawn to, like a moth to a flame."

Realization crossed Ratcliff's face. And slowly, his grotesque grin had returned.

Mura too, began to share her underling's joy. "Fix any defects in your creation, then you are free to go," she instructed.

Ratcliff whisked himself to another area of the compound. A slow rumble of mechanical origin followed him. The room he entered was shrouded in complete darkness, a blessing for his incredibly pale skin. As a simple overhanging fluorescent bulb was activated. Under new illumination, Ratcliff's insectoid creation was revealed, strapped to a metal slab. Upon awaking, the creature began to recoil in fear.

Her eyes widened as her master removed an elongated controller from his jacket. Ratcliff's smile began to show teeth, as his fingers activated one of the buttons upon the controller. Immediately, blue sparks of energy coursed through and across Grimhilde, dancing to the music of agony that she made heard through every hall of the Z compound.

The crackling's ceased, and her body lay defeated upon the slab. Small wisps of smoke began to rise from her. Her eyes were straining to shut tight.

Ratcliff leaned forward, his face mere inches from her. His smile was now wide as it had been, and his heart fluttered upon beholding the frightened face of his creation.

"Mercy is a stain you must rid yourself of," he bellowed harshly, "Got it?"

No verbal, or at the very least, intelligible response was made. Instead, through a series of sobs and sniffs, the creature slowly nodded.

"Don't worry dear," Ratcliff sickeningly comforted, "Tears are a sign of progress. I'd like to see more."

The crackling energy resumed once more, as did her cries of suffering.

...

Across the windswept plains, Capella's twins had begun to breach the horizon. One bright orb had just burst over the surface, while the other was a bare sliver of light. The sky was a brilliant concoction of colors, gradually growing more orange as it drew near the suns.

Despite the dawn gracing the town below, various citizens were out and active. The layout of this particular town resembled Sunder, though it allowed for more variety in its road structure and building placement. There were also other differences.

The civilians, while clearly humanoid and upright, contained plenty of animalistic features typically found on Earth's other creatures. Several young ones with bright pink pig faces raced after their mother, who also contained pig-like features. Two shelled creatures, turtles, lumbered down a main road, while several feline-based humanoids growled impatiently behind them.

An abundance of flags waved about in the arid air. They hung from store fronts, waved from long poles in the air, and were carried by some of the civilians themselves. They all bore the same standard. Three long, slanted, jagged marks stretched down, similar to marks from predator claws.

Large, furry, burley canine creatures huffed through the roads. Unlike the dreary or even joyful looks of the civilians, all of these Anthos possessed a serious glint within their eyes. They were paces faster than the civilians as they committed to their patrol. Some wore vest jackets, others possessed patches of light armor, and some even allowed their thick furry torso's to be bare for the world to see.

Hung from one of the taller buildings, with four chains stretching to contain his limbs, was a man. His arms and feet were splayed out, allowing him no respite. With eyes wide and mouth agape, desperately taking in precious dry air, his face was twisted into an eternal state of pure agony. The man's current orientation emphasized the harsh outline of his ribs upon his torso. At times, he resembled less a man, and more of a flesh-adorned skeleton.

Accompanying the sickly, flesh-covered protrusion of bones , were several long red marks. Some were large and explicit, traveling across his body, while others were small and quaint. Some were bright red, while others had taken on a darker maroon color.

One small feline-creature ran up to the man. Something brown was held in the little one's paws. With a grunt, the child threw the object, and struck the man on the chest. The brown object splattered, smearing and staining his breast. There were no anguished screams from the act, only a small whimper. Clearly disappointed, the child ran away.

There was a tremor in the sand. It did not warrant any of the occupant's attentions. Some paused in worry, but dismissed their concerns.

When it did not cease, instead intensifying, did it finally grab their attention. This tremor became a rumble, and the particles below shook at their feet. Shop owners noticed their signs swaying with no wind to carry them.

There was a scream, followed by several murmurs. In the wavy canvas of the dune-filled desert, a mass of black shapes appeared. Slowly but surely, their distance to the village closed in.

Tremors which were once quaint, distant and unfocused were now distilled, rhythmic, and immediate. They were created by hundreds of boots falling into sand in a steady tempo. Hundreds of uniformed personnel had lined up into several blocks, moving as one. There was not a sign of civilization in sight aside from the White Fang town, yet their uniforms were as pristine as the day they were first manufactured. All wore dark navy blue military jackets which ended at the troops' knees. Their pants were of pure black, as were their boots. Even marching for miles in the sand, the boots never lost their flawless polish. Upon their chests lay a gold insignia of an eagle.

Some of the soldiers were cast in shadow. A boxy, oblong craft loomed above, hundreds of meters in the air. Its metal was dark, almost black, and possessed little luster. Despite this, the rumble from the engines was pure and unbridled, containing next to no impurities.

Upon the front of the floating brick was a thin line of reflective, yet transparent material. Several figures could be seen moving and shifting behind it. One of those was the proud figure of Admiral Koth, standing pridefully in the center, casting a cold fiery survey to the hapless town before him. His crew milled about around him, daring not to meet his steel gray glare, nor slacken in their commitment to their duties.

Leading the massive formation all on her own was the NTF lieutenant, Helena. Her golden arms were hidden in sight with her newly reissued uniform. Her hands, however, gave off a telling sheen. Her legs nearly kicked into the air as she marched towards the village.

Bringing up the rear of the military force, were three monoliths moving slowly, but on their own power. On heavy treads they rumbled through soft sand. Prismatic in shape, they stood several stories high. A telltale barrel, smooth and black, jutted out of the side of these vehicles, pointed to the sky at a 45 degree angle.

These monoliths came lurching to a stop, which appeared to be an enormous feat upon itself. Mechanical whirring sounded as the barrels began lowering ever so slightly. Ahead, the army pressed on, as did Koth's command ship, the sounds of chanting of a language that was lost to most of the planet's inhabitants, a relic of an ancient blue planet upon which both the White Fang and Neo-Terra once resided.

The sound of thunder filled the sky, as each barrel was pushed back due to mighty recoil. From these weapons, a blue bolt of light flew through the sky. It left a trail, as if it were a shooting star, as it began arcing downwards, towards the village.

There was a shout of triumph from the army, followed by screams of despair, as the deadly ammunition met its mark. The humble scene of the village was blasted with fire and smoke, as buildings shattered and crumbled. Civilians of all walks of life; rich, poor, elderly, and child were tossed into the air or outright obliterated in the wake of the destructive impact. White flags of the White fang, once proud banners that waved defiantly in the most turbulent storms, were now caught in brilliant orange infernos.

In the midst of chaos, the charge order echoed across the desert. Hundreds of neatly-blocked soldiers became a mob, bearing down upon the damaged and broken village. Security personnel scrambled to meet the oncoming onslaught, their canines clenched for all to see. But so few were they in number, and already reeling from losses.

Still, the quaint group of animals met the Neo Terran forces head on. Their natural advantages and animalistic nature served them well, as claws and teeth ripped through some of the soldiers. But soon, the superior numbers of the opposing force were too much. Ranged firepower, of both ballistic and ki nature cut them down.

A critical mistake the White Fang guarding the town made, was that their animal savagery was a sufficient enough advantage. But humanity was another animal that hailed from planet Earth, and as such, they were capable of just as much, or even greater savagery.

A golden bolt of ki, fired from one of the NTF soldiers flashed through a hapless white fang guard. The bulk of the NTF overran the creatures body before he hit the ground. Soon, the city streets were packed with hostile forces. A cry was heard in the wilderness, several cries, as civilians were dragged from structures, while others were trapped in their homes to be burned down.

More White Fang troops snaked out from the crooks of the villages to meet the now barbaric force that had swept through the town. Helena was the first to tread ground, upon which her soldiers followed, but as the battle progressed, few of the White Fang's casualties could be attributed to her. This was about to change, for a force of six strong of the town guard charged straight at her. The quaintly paved streets were obliterated upon their approach, as a heavy cloud of dust had been thrown behind them which each footfall.

Helena came to a stop, spreading her arms out with her hands fully open. NTF troops, upon observing this, backed down, staying clumped behind the second-in-command, as she stood proudly against the secondary force.

Orange bolds flashed out of her hands in rapid succession, indiscriminately ripping through soldier and civilian alike. Howls of pain filled the air as bodies piled upon the sand-filled streets, all riddled with sizable holes, soon filled to the brim with blood. All of this was accompanied by a sadistic, triumphant smile plastered upon the NTF's second-in-command.

The conquest of the quaint town was nearly complete. Every street was now brimming with black smoke and lifeless bodies. The color of sand had changed from a pale tan to a dark brown ,stained with burning debris and blood. Survivors now had their hands on their heads, and were marched through lines in the streets of the city lined up, bearing witness to the ferocity of the NTF.

Only one occupant of the city shouted with joy. The man who had hung from the building was released. Despite his wounds and emancipated state, he possessed raw vigor and unquenchable energy. As he was escorted to the center of the town , the man appeared to almost dance with every step. He passed a group of sentient animals, one containing plenty of children. Sneering, he spit upon them, much to the laughter of his rescuers.

Groups of civilians were now gathered in the town's center, forced to kneel with their hands behind their heads. The NTF's floating monolith had touched-down upon the outskirts, never taking part of the action, always lumbering within the bloody path the army had created. There was a low rumble, as the exit ramp had begun lowering. With a mighty thud, the heavy slab of metal had settled upon the now iron-enriched sand. The Admiral himself walked proudly out of his command ship. Every time he made eye contact with one of the soldiers, they sharply saluted him, which would be returned with a rather short nod, and an approving smile. He stood in front of the mass of civilians, all divided into groups of no particular classification. Up ahead, he was met by Helena, who gave him a victorious smile as she saluted him. He returned the favor.

Within the crowd, there was a shout of despair and sorrow. One of the animals had stood up. Her fur upon her face was matted. For a non-human face, she showed plenty of human anguish as she pleaded, "What is the meaning of this? You humans are as cruel as they say they are!"

Several NTF soldiers pushed their way through the crowds of kneeling civilians, their arms out, and deadly glares fixed upon her. Koth raised a hand to his side. They regarded him for a second, then nodded as they backed off.

"I don't know if your leader has you appraised." Koth sneered in response, "This planet is being threatened by a lunatic."

"So this is your solution!" she accused, her body wracked with too many emotions to count.

Koth began to wade through the crowd of civilians himself, but seemed unimpeded in his progress. As if by some invisible force, or perhaps, by the sheer loyalty and terror he inspired, every single body in his path to the hapless innocent moved out of his way. Soon, the admiral stood over the grieving she-animal, and subjected her to his unforgiving gray-tinted glare. "How can one fight off an infection, if he suffers from another?" he justified, "The blood on our hands will serve as fitting tribute to the innocents who succumbed to the fangs of your leaders."

His foot shot out, planting itself into the stomach of the civilian. With a grunt, she fell among her fellows, sending kneeling bodies tumbling down in a wave.

Koth's view was then taken from the wretched site, before settling upon the distant horizon. Under the shadow of his admiral's cap, his eyes widened ever so slightly.

Upon the top of the dune, stood Shere Khan, as well as a contingent of other White Fang troops. In various clothing, they wore, but all bore the standard of the three animal marks that used to decorate the village. They had not bothered with a military formation, preferring to stand in a disorganized crowd. Some carried weapons, rifles, pistols, knives, and some were satisfied with none. But all wore an appalled expression upon their faces, as they looked upon the destruction before them.

Khan began to take several heavy steps forward. His mighty frame was nearly a head taller than the tallest of the contigent, and clearly more bulky. Of all the warriors in his charge, he displayed the least anxiety. Of all the warriors under his command, by contrast, he experienced the most anguish at what he witnessed before him. His shocked expression slowly changed, as his sharp canines became clenched, and he began to growl. Turning back to his contingent, he bellowed out, "Again, the human menace cowardly attack our civilians, instead of facing us like true warriors! Charge!"

The order was given, and was fulfilled with no hesitation. There were cries and roars of angry animal-men that raced across the desert, kicking up sand and dirt. Many had forgone the bipedal approached, and raced on all fours. Those quicker of foot raced ahead, while the slower ones trailed behind.

Meanwhile, the stream of NTF soldiers began to run down the littered roads. Once they had reached their position, the rush of wolf-men, cat-men, dog-men, and any animal known to man met them. Fangs and claws moved at lightning speed, surpassing human defenses, and tearing into the front-lines of the NTF line. Men and women yelled in agony as limbs went missing, and deep gashes were torn into their armor.

Shere Khan joined the fray, as the second wave of NTF defenders reached the carnage. Some of these soldiers had clear immersion into the art of ki, and they flew in wedges, firing out blasts of golden ki, and reacting and punishing White Fang attacks with greater speed and ferocity. Some of the animals also displayed this skill, and soon, the near outskirts of the town became a mass grave of struggle.

Khan batted away several NTF defenders. One spirited fellow charged him, anger clearly burning in his eyes. His weapon was trained on the wolf-man, flashing orange as white-hot metal was unleashed from its barrel. Shere Khan gritted his teeth, easily enduring the bullets. In a blur of grey fur, he was upon the man. His teeth sank into the man's arm, eliciting a scream, half out of pain, half out of hate. as his wrist and hand fell away in a bloody descent.

Shere Khan then slashed at the man's face, again and again, until there was nothing but blood and bones, long after life had departed.

The corpse fell away from Khan, revealing another angry soul, whose fury was far better contained. The cold blue eyes of Helena threatened to freeze the suns as she witnessed the death of her fellow soldier. Shere Khan narrowed his eyes, as he glared down at the NTF's second in command.

"Shere Khan! " Helena yelled angrily at him, "This will be the last human you kill! The gates of Hell will be the only place to welcome you, once our battle is resolved!"

A slight sneer formed upon the canines of the wolf-man, as he retorted, "If only your dear leader had the gall to join his underlings in battle!"

"His gift is leadership." Helena defended. Her feet widened, as she braced for battle, declaring, "Mine is conflict!"

As chaos and death erupted around them, bodies flying through the air, and bolts of energy, Helena and Khan appeared isolated, as if in the eye of a typhoon. Ice blue human eyes met furious wolf amber eyes, and for a moment, it appeared they would be locked forever in an endless contest.

It was only for a moment. Neither waited for the other to make the first move, for both were eager to get the first punch in. Claws met cyborg arms in the middle, sending out pressure waves and sand outward, forcing others away from the battle. There were now an equal amount of alive and dead on the sand. Slowly, more and more began to disengage from their battles, and attention was given to the conflict in the center of all.

Khan clawed away recklessly at Helena's defense, for she had crossed two arms in front of her. Her sleeves stood no chance, scattering in tattered ribbons of cloth, revealing the rest of Helena's mechanical limbs. Yellow sparks jumped out from each blow, yet Helena remained resolute, and her arms suffered minimal damage. Soon, Shere Khan ceased his assault.

But, the wolf-man was not done. He lunched forward, his teeth clamping down, digging into Helena's left arm. His pearl white fangs dug cleanly into the gold. Helena's eyes widened, but before she could react, she was lifted into the air and shook about, treated as nothing more than a chew toy.

Helena was thrown back, rolling on the ground, until she came to a stop, crashing into one of the buildings on the edge of the village. The earthen structure suffered many major cracks spidering through the side, while dust from the point of impact formed a hearty coating over Helena's dark gray uniform.

With her back most literally against the way, Helena quickly shook herself to attention. Looking up, she was greeted with a frightening sight. Shere Khan had leapt into the air. He was almost upon her, his fangs out, his mouth opened. Helena couldn't move, but could count every tooth in Khan's mouth. Her fists clenched as she struggled to move, yet she could only witness the inevitable and fatal trajectory of the wolf man.

Helena felt the putrid breath of Shere Khan upon her. Then, it had departed. So had Khan's menacing form above her. Helena's head rotated around, before she was able to find the wolf-man's new whereabouts, sprawled on his side in the sand.

A loud explosion erupted in front of her, with the sound of a mighty drum crash. A yellow orb of volatile ki expanded from it's source, threatening to touch her toes. Helena's eyes shifted up, and despair grabbed at her, as the bodies of her comrades, and even the White Fang members were lifted into the air, some completely disintegrating into the growing conflagration.

Soon, there was naught but smoke, black thick columns of smoke pouring out from a deep crater of sand. The sand was sterile of bodies, as none could have survived complete annihilation.

Directly behind this crater, there were the silhouettes of two figures , one short and portly, the other larger, and otherworldly. The smoke fogged up the air, keeping the two obscured.

Koth's eyes widened as he witnessed the destruction. He immediately broke from his prideful position in front of the frightened civilians, racing through village streets, past broken and destroyed buildings, until he had arrived at the battlefield. The smoke had now dissipated. The two figures were now clear. Ratcliff's devilish grin could have been visible from 1000 miles. Grimhilde was the one accompanying him. Her hand was fully extended, and wisps of smoke flowed from it.

Upon settling his eyes upon the mad scientist, Koth's face twisted into rage, "You! Deserter!" he accused, pointing a finger at him.

Ratcliff did not reflect the intensity of Koth's expression. His shoulders shrugged, and his smile never left him. His voice was light and conversational, "Oh hey Kothy! It's been so long, have you lost weight? Love the new look."

"Spare me your babble." the Admiral cut off. His shoulders began to relax, as he continued, "I can forgive you if you can assist me in wiping out this animal scum. If you've come for any other reasons, then I would see you die slowly for your desertion."

Ratcliff closed his eyes, shaking his head. He wagged a finger, clicking his tongue, "Tsk tsk. You are in no position to be making demands. Did you see that explosion? That was me, or more accurately, that was my dear creation Grimhilde."

Koth's eyes veered to view the alien form of Ratcliff's latest experiment. He lacked ki senses, yet he was not completely blind. His stomach began to churn, and the low trickle of fear coursed through his body, "What the hell is that thing?"

"Koth!" shouted the voice of Shere Khan. Both Ratcliff and Koth turned suddenly towards him. He was up, but heaving heavily. There were clear blood vessels in his eyes. "What is this new devilry you've summoned?"

Ratcliff answered for the admiral, "I was summoned by this party you were having. But know this, by the end of the night, I'll be the last one dancing."

His cackle echoed across dunes and towns. Grimhilde retracted her hand. There was a low tremor in the sand once more, as her hands were placed together, and a loud crack soon followed.