Author's Note: Apparently, the website is deleting punctuation like commas, question marks, and exclaimation marks from around quotation marks whenever I upload this part. Even when I edit the document via the website's integrated software, it STILL deletes my FUCKING PUNCTUATION!

So if the following doesn't seem clear, I am NOT the one screwing around here. Go tell the admins that they need to get their shit in gear, like I'm gonna do.

Anyway, if the lack of punctuation propriety annoys you, then go and read this on my Deviant Art account (http:maddog3060. And I'll see about hosting this on my own webspace, as well.

Well, enjoy the show.

-R. Andrew Szuhay, a.k.a. "Maddog3060"

The next few days were traversed without any major incident. The first wave of Operation Last Call had moved from their initial encampment to where their firebase would eventually stand, since the nature of a firebase allowed for 'improvements in place.' Nevertheless, the Seabees had built a trio of permanent buildings to protect important equipment, and erected a simple chain link fence around the area and stretching it around the dropships, which wouldn't be bothered to move such a short distance.

After this initial construction, the Seabees then concentrated solely on the airstrip, and their progress turned out to be much better than initially hoped. Only five days had passed, and already they were halfway completed, much to the relief of everyone on the ground.

Van Horn mused over these thoughts mainly because the chefs had gone down to supplementing their stocks with field rations. By the time that strip is completed, we'll probably be having MREs exclusively, he thought with some dismay. Looking down at his meal, he already started to pick at the few leftover pieces of a vegetable mix found in one such ration. Carrots, chickpeas, and nellies, he identified the components mentally. And they all taste like plastic. He finally set down his plastic fork and looked up at his dinner companions to see if they, too, had his same reluctance.

Across from him sat Castellano, who was attacking his meal with gusto. Next to Castellano was Marks, who seemed to share van Horn's dislike of the added rations. Over to his left sat Osis, who had long ago finished his meal and had sat back to pleasantly half-doze in his seat.

Van Horn couldn't help but feel a smile tug at his lips. Damn, makes me miss the M.I. Why'd I leave, anyway? He asked mentally, but then answered himself immediately after. Because you love your work out in the civilian sector. And truth be told, you'd never have met Alexis, Mikula or Pavlo if you had stayed in and gone career.

Thinking about his friends from the very planet he now sat on, van Horn wondered what they were doing at the moment. Well, I know they're having dinner at the Farkas family household. He remembered, but I wonder how it's going? Alexis has been driving herself hard these past few days, and doing her best to avoid going near any other native, save Mikula and Pavlo. Hell, that's half the reason they went out there tonight, is 'cuz she hasn't had a real chance to meet Senmar.

Deciding that, given the unusual quiet around the table, he'd best occupy his mouth as well as his mind, van Horn brought up another forkful of vegetables. He chewed them up, while thinking, I know Alexis had that argument with her father, and from what she's mentioned since, her entire family and most of the gatón are avoiding her as much as she's avoiding them. I hope that going into Shulana tonight isn't going to bring out anything nasty.

He didn't worry about Alexis; not only had she received ample training in basic infantry arts - supplemented in recent days through a sudden increase in desire on her part - but her attitude of late had been almost entirely one of a happy worker. She did her duties without gripe and found time to learn the finer points of infantry combat and firearms. And always, she had time to be with Mikula.

Van Horn smiled at that thought. They really do seem to care for each other. Every night, they're talking, or taking some time to walk around, or... He left the last thought uncompleted, having been raised to respect people's privacy. Still, it seems like kismet, the way they are.

A voice intruded on his thoughts, and van Horn looked up to see all three of his dinner companions looking at him. "What?" He blurted in surprise.

Castellano smiled. "I said, 'what do you think of the crappy food?' But I see you had something else on your mind."

Van Horn returned the smile. "Sorry, I was just thinking 'bout some things." He shrugged and put another forkful of food into his mouth.

"Thinking about what?" Marks asked from where she still played with her leftover veggies. Van Horn, of course, couldn't immediately reply, and so she smiled and continued. "Worried about our friends out there?"

"Am I that transparent?" Van Horn asked after swallowing.

"Well, you're not exactly clear enough to read through," Castellano added with a grin, "but it's hard not to notice that you're distracted when they aren't in the camp."

Van Horn sighed. "Yeah, you're right," he said and looked down to pick over the few, stray peas on his plate. "I just worry, that's all. I kinda feel responsible for them, after all the things I've helped them with."

Osis chuckled from his seat. "You sound like my parents."

"Oh?" Van Horn and the others looked at the big man. "Uhm, no offense, but, uh..." His voice trailed off as he realized that he might not want to say anything upsetting to the child of Elementals.

But Osis just smiled softly. "Don't worry. I know what you're thinking. 'How did his parents managed to act like everyone else's?'"

Van Horn shook his head. "No- I mean, yes- I mean" His voice left as he struggled with his words.

Osis chuckled then, breaking the tension. "Don't worry, Earl! I'm used to such questions. Hell, I asked my dad himself when I got old enough to realize the differences."

Silence fell for a moment, and Osis sighed. "You guys can't even ask? Jeeze." He said in mock rapprochement. "I asked him and he told me that he and mom learned a lot from the lower castes, and then even more from their friends they made when they arrived in the Republic." He sat back and stared out, remembering. "He said that our neighbors were helpful as they could be, and soon they learned." He then looked at his friends and grinned. "'Course, it helps that I was a third child."

Laughter rolled around the table from all four of them for a moment. "You mean there's more of you?" Castellano asked. When Osis nodded, he rolled his eyes. "Great, more giants with a bad sense of humor!"

Van Horn and Marks laughed, even as Osis lightly punched Castellano in the arm. "Ow!" Castellano exclaimed, overemphasizing the hit, even to rubbing his arm.

"Baby," Osis joked and razzed the lighter man. "Be glad you don't know my older brother, 'cuz he wouldn't pull the punch."

Castellano pretended to shudder. "Oh noes! Whatever am I to do?" Again, the four shared a laugh.

Afterwards, however, Marks turned to van Horn again. "So, all kidding aside, John was right. You do act like a father to those three."

Van Horn smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I noticed that too." He sighed and shook his head slightly. "I mean, think about it. I've pretty much taught them everything they know about our culture, our language..." he shrugged.

Marks grinned knowingly. "I see what you mean. I always felt the same way about my younger siblings," she said wistfully. "Teaching them all sorts of things that they didn't want to learn from our parents" she rolled her eyes. "But still, you can't help but worry when you've done so much to help 'em."

Van Horn nodded. "My thoughts exactly."

"Well, if you're thinkin' the same as I," Marks replied, "then you'll know that sometimes, ya just gotta let go. Things'll be all right."

Yeah, this isn't fun, Alexis thought as she walked along the road through Shulana with Mikula and Pavlo. Although the twilight the day had entered had managed to chase most people indoors, more than a few gatón and lupar were out and about to stare at the trio as they walked along. Alexis wanted to attribute the looks to just the way they had dressed - full dress uniforms that were the result of the 'complete support' ideal of the Republic - but she knew better. Not only has everyone heard of my falling out with my father, but by now, the way I acted while talking to Jahni has certainly been spread about.

Still, she wouldn't be dissuaded, and she adjusted her left arm where it crooked around Mikula's right. Noticing this, Mikula turned his head and gave Alexis a small smile. "Feeling nervous?" He asked.

Alexis returned the smile. "A bit," she said, and looked around the new town. "I know I've met your mother before, and I'm looking forward to getting to know Senmar, but..." Her voice trailed away as they quietly walked. Pavlo was more than a few steps ahead, and now he turned his head to speak to the others. "I'm going to go on ahead, and make sure that mother isn't overwhelmed with Senmar and Kanu causing trouble."

Mikula chuckled a bit. "Alright, see you soon then."

With that, Pavlo waved and he hurried off, leaving Mikula and Alexis to walk at a leisurely pace. Mikula then turned and looked at Alexis again. "So, what does have you worried?"

Alexis shook her head a bit. "Well, this is really the first time we'll be both seeing the rest of your family..." She almost stumbled over the next word. "Together."

"Ah," Mikula said, letting the word out slowly. With that, he pulled Alexis in a bit closer with his arm. "Well, you told me on how my mother spoke to you in the Maegister's house that once. I don't think she'll have changed her mind."

"I know, but..." Alexis said, and then sighed. "That was before... When I had a family, and things weren't so... Different. When I wasn't so different."

Mikula just walked in silence for a moment, and Alexis wondered if she had been right in telling him about her epiphany. But soon he laid her fears to rest as he reached over with his left hand and squeezed her arm. "Alexis, you may be different, but I think that if I've only learned one thing from Earl's people - and from just knowing you - is that different isn't always bad." He smiled as he brought his left hand back. "In fact, it can be better. And frankly, Alexis, you're better than anyone else could ever be for me."

Alexis felt tears welling in her eyes, and she turned away to look at her feet. "You're gonna make me get my uniform all wet," she said, half-teasing to lighten her mood and thus keep her emotions in check. She wiped her eyes with her free hand, and then turned to face Mikula again. "But thank you. You don't know how much that means to me."

Mikula shook his head. "But I do, because you mean everything to me. How can anything I say even begin to compare with you."

Alexis again felt her emotions well up, and she just stayed quiet. But she did pull herself over to Mikula, leaning into him as they walked towards his family's new abode.

By the time they arrived, Alexis had gotten her emotions in check again, and she had made sure to wipe her eyes of remaining residue. She was finished by the time they reached the small but well-built house to find the front door open in invitation. Mikula looked down at her, silently questioning her. She looked back and replied with a small smile and by squeezing his arm a bit. With that, he smiled and they went to the door together, reaching it in only a moment. Mikula indicated for Alexis to step through first, as the door wasn't wide enough for both to pass through at once.

Alexis smiled a bit and walked through, letting her eyes adjust to the lamp-lit interior as she paused to wait for Mikula. The foyer wasn't too impressive, especially with the dim light, but Alexis could see while it was still new and utilitarian, Tiana had managed to add some hospitability with an old blanket draped over a crude table that served to hold guests coats. The only exit from the small mini-room led into the small room that served as dining room, living room, and kitchen. Alexis could only see part of the room, given the angle of the door, but she recognized Pavlo already sitting down next to Senmar. Voices came through the open frame, and Alexis tensed a bit as she recognized one that she didn't expect to hear.

She turned around and looked at Mikula, who smiled. "Come on," he said and went ahead of her, pulling her along by the arm. Alexis let herself be pulled into the room where the Farkas family sat, along with Shaman Forbasa.

They all looked up as the two emerged into the better-lit room. "Well, there you are!" Tiana said as she stood up with a smile. "Come in, sit down! Oh, Senmar, why don't you take their coats?" She turned and went for the counter where food that had been cooked in an outside hearth was resting in some bowls. "I'll get the food now that everyone is here."

Alexis felt a bit strange at the way Tiana acted, and the comment about her coat reminded her that it was warmer in the small house than it was outside. The dress uniform not only had an inner and outer shirt, but it also had a jacket subtly decorated with the insignia of the Republic and the Mobile Infantry, the former on her right shoulder and the latter on her left. Military decorations and rank were missing, since she technically wasn't actually in the military, but it still looked impressive.

But it also kept heat in pretty well. While outside, Alexis didn't notice this with the weather turning cooler every day, but inside, with her fur, it made her rather uncomfortable. Before Senmar could stand, she held up a hand. "No, don't worry, I'll get them myself," she said and began to unbutton the jacket to show the simple shirt underneath.

"Nonsense!" Tiana stated even as she dipped a wooden ladle into a pot that obviously contained stew. "Senmar's hardly had anything to do, anyway."

The strained look on the younger lupar's face belied the statement, but he began to stand anyway. Mikula, however, shook his head. "No, mother, we're fine," he said and took off his jacket as well, holding out his arm for Alexis to add hers. She paused a second, and then laid it down on top of Mikula's, looking at him and giving him a wink with the eye that the others couldn't see. He smiled back and turned to go place the coats down in the foyer.

Alexis, meanwhile, faced Forbasa. "Shaman, I must say that I'm surprised to see you here." She said quietly.

Forbasa grinned as he replied. "Alexis, I haven't seen you in months, so when Mrs. Farkas invited me for a dinner that you would be at, I fairly jumped at the chance."

Alexis blushed as Mikula returned into the room, smiling along with his three brothers. "You honor me, Shaman" she replied as Mikula waved her towards one of two empty seats still at their side of the rectangular table. "Especially given my... Peculiar behavior." She blushed deeper as she sat down.

Forbasa's smile disappeared, and he nodded. "I understand you've set some tongues clicking," the smile returned to full force, "but then, if you'll recall, I've never been one to stick too much to the old ways."

Alexis felt as if her ears and tail would be permanently stuck in the blushing position. Fortunately for her, Tiana brought the first set of bowls and began to set them down in front of her family and guests. Alexis could smell the stew; it's native ingredients causing her mouth to water in anticipation. It's been too long since I had some food from here, she thought, forgetting for the moment the night of her fight with her father. Instead, she chatted with Forbasa a bit as Mikula spoke with his brothers.

All in all, it looks like it's going to be a good night after all, she thought.

Van Horn wandered away from the mess tent in no particular fashion. Though the new camp had been laid out a bit more orderly, it still had enough twists and turns in the paths to make wandering it a bit engaging. But it was still small, and soon he came to where the chain link fence cut off the camp from the surrounding area.

He frowned as he turned to follow the fence along its length. Not much to really keep out a determined enemy, and all it does is keep us locked in, he thought. Then he sighed and shook his head. Well, we can't be giving the impression that we're lax in security, now can we? Although it might've sounded sarcastic when spoken aloud, van Horn meant it sincerely. Appearances can be deceiving, or they can be reassuring, or just plain warning. The fence represented not an actually significant barrier, but rather that the Republic forces weren't going to be lax in their vigil.

Van Horn soon approached a gate, where a non-armored trooper from the NeoTokyo Grenadiers stood watch. The sentry tensed at van Horn's arrival and called a challenge. "Who goes there?"

"Dr. van Horn, Mobile Infantry," he replied. The guard relaxed a bit, recognizing van Horn's voice and soon his features in the light cast by the single lamppost that provided the central area of camp with a soft blue light. "What're you doing out here?" The guard asked.

Van Horn shrugged as he pulled up and stopped a meter away, the better to not make the guard nervous. "Just bored, so I'm walkin' about."

The sentry nodded. "Well, if you want to go outside, then you'll need a pass from the bigwigs," he said and gestured to the new command shelter, which was now a prefabricated shack that nonetheless provided better protection than the old, temporary dome.

Van Horn paused, wondering why he hadn't thought of that? With a sheepish grin, he spoke again, "well then, I won't be taking up your time then."

"No problem doc," the guard replied as van Horn turned and walked towards the center of camp, heading for the new HQ 'building.' The walk only took a few moments, and soon he stood next to the prefabricated structure. He took a moment to look it and the entire area over.

The HQ shed - he still couldn't think of it as a real building - stood about three meters tall, and it was a rectangle seven meters in length and five in width. Around the base were piled sandbags that reached nine decimeters high, and they encircled the shed-like structure, only to end where the two doors were located.

In front of HQ was an open space about twelve meters square. In the middle of this was a utilitarian combination flagpole and light pole that was the source of the pale blue illumination. Looking up, van Horn's eyes could barely discern the top of the pole past the light, but up there he knew would be where the Republic's flag would be flying in the morning.

Casting his eyes down, van Horn peered to look at the armory shed, which resembled the HQ building in texture, though it was a good deal larger. Unlike the HQ structure, the armory wasn't made up of a single prefabricated structure; but rather, it was assembled from various pieces of preformed metal composites. The Seabees had a good supply of the metal sheets, and they easily cut them to the needed size and shapes, building a custom structure in half the time of conventional means.

But you'd never know it from seeing it, van Horn thought. The Armory was much larger to accommodate troopers in battle armor, and so it was build with a large, five-meter height. The building was another rectangle, and its floor was a good twelve meters long by nine meters wide. Although its construction was not conventional, the Armory was hardly a pushover, and it could easily take hurricane-force winds and not even shudder. It was sandbagged like the HQ shed, and it had three doors, two very large ones on either short face and a regular-sized one in the middle of the long side facing the HQ building.

Finally, van Horn turned to look on the last semi-permanent building to his right. The Infirmary, where even now, he knew, some of the natives more injured were getting help. Including that Soru fellow that was burned so badly, he remembered. The day that the locals had returned to their normal routine had also brought with it a request from Forbasa for help with the severely injured. This had prompted Major Kujira to have a real infirmary put up, as the dropships were still a sensitive subject with the old-school major.

Not that I blame him, van Horn mused. Rule Two of Interstellar Warfare: Protect your DropShips! Rule One, of course, being 'Protect your JumpShips!' He remembered from The Proctor's Guide to Waging War, written way back in the twenty-fourth century. Most of the ideas had been discounted, but the so-called 'rules of interstellar warfare' were still taught in military academies across the Human Sphere.

Thus, Kujira had wanted to help out in a way that wouldn't compromise the paranoid security of his transports, and van Horn really couldn't fault him too much. Briefly, he wondered if he should go and see if any of the three natives in the Infirmary would want company, but then he remembered that they would be kept under sedation for the night. With that, van Horn shrugged to himself and walked up to the HQ shack, pushing the door open as he walked in.

The interior was almost as dark as the outside, though they had a pair of the soft blue lights going to provide illumination. Van Horn silently cursed the fact that only the fickle short-wave light would preserve night vision as he walked towards where the communications console was set up.

The man and woman on duty looked up and recognized their visitor. "Hello, Doc," the senior, male soldier said. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," van Horn replied. "And that's the problem. I'm gettin' a bit antsy, and I was wonderin' if I could have a pass to leave the compound?"

The man frowned a bit. "Well, I don't know-"

A beeping on the sensor console that the woman manned cut the other duty trooper off. "What's that you got there, Shirley?"

The woman worked her controls for a second before replying. "Looks like an Assault Transport. They're coming in low from the west." She frowned. "I don't get it. If it wasn't for that outlying station the navy guys set up, we wouldn't have seen them."

"Odd..." The male officer replied as he turned to place a headset on. He also turned on the console's speaker so that the other two could listen in on the conversation. "What's their callsign?"

"Beagle Five," the woman replied, which caused the comm officer to purse his lips. He then pressed a few buttons and opened up a channel. "Assault Transport Beagle Five, this is Firebase Hotel, do you copy?"

Static came over the line before a voice replied, "Firebase Hotel, this is Beagle Five. We read you five by five."

"Beagle Five, we do not have a scheduled flight at this time. Care to explain?"

A momentary burst of static came through, then, "Damnit, didn't those assholes on the Young call and let you know?"

The officer covered his microphone and mouthed to the sensor tech; 'call the major.'

As she grabbed her radio and began to dial it in for Kujira, the comm officer again keyed his mike. "I'm afraid not, Beagle Five. What're you carrying that's so important that it couldn't wait until the next flight?"

"Food, mostly," the nameless voice from the transport replied. "Captain of the Ajax sent a K-1C loaded with some fresh food. I guess he thought that the assault ships wouldn't be carrying enough."

Van Horn tensed up, and he could see the other two in the room did as well. Anyone from the Republic knows damn well we got two cargo ships sitting up in orbit, he thought as the comm officer spoke again. "Anything else?"

The voice from the transport grunted. "Some parts for the troopers' battle armor. Other than that, we're riding pretty light."

Even as the voice spoke, the officer brought up another frequency and cut out the one with the transport. "Firebase Hotel to Spade Nine, come in Spade Nine."

"Spade Nine here, what's up Hotel?" The voice that replied was muffled a bit, and van Horn knew it was from the oxygen mask that an aerospace pilot wore that reflected the speech back into the microphone.

"We have a transport, possible bogey, moving in from the west." The comm officer replied. "We need you to move into chase position and wait for a kill order."

Static came over the line for a split second before Spade Nine replied, "You sure Hotel? I just picked that boy up as you were talkin' an' he looks like a friendly."

"I know, Nine, but he's bein' suspicious. Just move into position, over."

"Roger, Hotel. Spade Nine and Ten moving in, waiting for kill signal." The fighter pilot sounded a bit unsure, but van Horn and the others knew that he'd do his duty.

With that, the comm officer switched over to the previous frequency. "Beagle Five, we have a bit of a snafu here, it seems," he said, licking his dry lips as Kujira entered the building, followed by Captain Tanaka, both looking very civilian in their sleeping clothes. The comm officer, however, continued on regardless of the interruption. "So we're going to have to ask you to initiate Plan Nine as you come in."

Despite the situation, van Horn smirked a bit over the check signal, derived as it was from a movie that was almost painful to watch even when it was made in the early 20th Century. Whoever came up with the codes for Last Call is a nutcase, he thought. Just hope they give the check signal.

It was a simple code, based on whimsy and tongue-in-cheek humor. The proper reply to the check code was simply, 'from outer space,' and a turn away from the encampment to show non-aggression.

But it was not to be. "Roger that, Firebase Hotel. We'll initiate Plan Nine as we land. Anything else?"

The comm officer fairly slammed the frequencies to the one shared by the fighters above. "Firebase Hotel to Spade Nine! Target Beagle Five is hostile! Repeat, it's a bandit! Take 'em out!"

Spade Nine felt his hair rise along the back of his neck and his hands felt almost cold on the controls of his F-22 Raptor Prime. "I copy a kill order, Firebase Hotel. Request verification." Even as he called back to make doubly sure that he wasn't about to kill a friendly, the pilot, Lieutenant Frank Pelos - known as "Sparky" to his wingmates - boosted his 60-ton fighter to its maximum thrust.

"Affirmative, Spade Nine" the comm officer's voice came through clear. "Repeating: Contact Beagle Five is a hostile. Take the fucker out!"

"Roger, wilco." Pelos replied with calm determination. He watched the distance shrink as his fighter screamed through the atmosphere of Bowman's Planet, diving from his upper-level flight to fall upon the suspicious transport. Even as the distance closed, he felt a twinge of fear. Dear God, don't let this be a fuck-up, he silently prayed as he changed channels to his wingmate. "Willy, you been listenin?'"

"Aye," replied the pilot, his Scottish accent thicker now as adrenalin coursed into his veins. "Ye take th' lead, Sparky, an' I'll clip 'em if he doesn'ta go down."

Pelos gulped in his facemask. "Alright then, delta-right formation, cut across his stern."

"Roger," 'Willy' replied as the two fighters, both of Republic design, screeched down, reaching for their target. Soon, they were almost in weapons range, and Pelos called again to his wingman. "I want to take 'em by surprise, Willy. Keep targeting off 'til the last second. We'll make a short range pass, so switch your ATMs to HE."

"I copy that," the Scottish burr came across the radio even as Pelos flipped a few controls on his fighter's console, causing the ATM-9 launcher in each wing to switch ammo feeds from standard to short-ranged, extra-destructive ammo. Then he leaned back into his seat and gripped his HOTAS controls, arming his entire forward-facing arsenal as the range clicked down on his HUD.

He could see that the bogey craft still didn't realize the full depth of its danger. Pelos felt like his hands were shaking, but when he spared them a glance, he saw that they were as steady as stone. It's just your nerves, boy... Just do your duty.

"And may God have mercy on me if someone's wrong," he muttered as the range clicked down and he flipped on his active sensors. The range finally plied down, and he saw the Assault Transport buck as more power was fed into its engines.

But it was far too late. Pelos triggered the entire array of forward-facing weapons. The nose-mounted ER PPC was the first to fire, its coruscating stream of azure energy tearing into the heavy rear armor on the transport. Even as streams of armor melted off, the ER Medium Laser, also in the nose, flashed its beam, slagging armor off the rear as well.

Pelos then felt a jerk as the covers under his fighter's wings opened to reveal the eighteen missile launch tubes, reducing his aerodynamic profile. Then the Advanced Tactical Missiles slewed forth, streaming out in a wave of fire that homed in on the struggling transport. Unfortunately, the left wing launcher missed, sending its missiles to sail into the night. But of the starboard missiles, all nine hit, making up somewhat for the miss. Clusters of explosions rippled across the rear end of the craft, marking impacts.

Pelos cursed as he yanked his fighter up and into a loop that would bring him on the transport's tail again. It's an authentic Republic-issue craft, alright, he thought. Lost all that armor and it's still flying.

Even as he cut thrust to keep from blacking out, he couldn't help but take a glance as Willy's attack slammed into the rear of the transport. His particle cannon lanced another three-quarters of a ton of armor from the aft end of the craft, while his laser went off target, dispersing into a cloud. Both launchers were dead on, however, and their explosions blanketed the rear of the bogey.

Back on the ground, Kujira looked up from where he had been studying the sensor console to face Tanaka. "Captain, get your company moving," he said. Tanaka waved a half-salute as she turned and darted from the building. Van Horn was Kujira's next target, and he spitted the doctor with a look of pure intensity. "Van Horn, get your ass out and into your armor. I'll call Vickers and have his platoon out after you."

"Aye sir!" Van Horn replied and he too, raced out of the building, but not before hearing the sensor officer speak. "Major, they're not breaking off, but are accelerating."

Van Horn shuddered even as he ran for the Armory. Oh, Dear God, it can't be!

Pelos swept his fighter in from the port quarter, and he again raked the bogey with his full weapons compliment. His PPC scored the armor deeply, while his laser flensed even more of it off above the cut of the particle weapon. His missiles streaked in and spread dirty-orange flowers of destruction across the entire rear end of the craft. He pulled his fighter away, cursing that his attacks still hadn't breached the armor. The damn thing keeps going!

Then Willy attacked, his ER PPC blasting another 750 kilograms of armor away, while his laser cut sheets of metal loose and his ATMs pulverized more into metal dust. Then something flashed beneath, and Pelos realized that they had breached the armor at last as the starboard jets died on the Assault Transport. Without the stabilizing effect, the 185-ton craft pitched out of control, hurtling towards the ground.

Pelos brought his fighter around from his turn, and he briefly wondered if he should dive and make yet another attack on the craft. However, the falling transport's pitch shifted and it went almost straight down until it slammed into the ground, exploding in a huge fireball of plasma and burning hydrogen fuel.

Pelos sighed heavily. Please, God, don't let me have sent good men to heir deaths.

Van Horn was out of the Armory just in time to tune in to hear Spade Nine's report. "That's affirmative, Firebase Hotel. Target is down, and he ain't gettin' back up. We'll continue to orbit at close range for now."

He heard the comm officer's reply, but he didn't care to pay attention. The transport had been brought down uncomfortably close to Shulana; so close that van Horn worried that the fires burning might spread to the town's crops, and even the town itself. With these unhappy thoughts, he raced out of the camp and then proceeded to leap across the plains, 120 meters at a time. He was the first, he knew, but in a few seconds, he saw the first members of the Vanquishers begin to file onto the plains, all rushing forward to join van Horn at the crash site.

Van Horn tightened his grip on his Heavy Gyrojet Gun, wondering why he should have bothered to bring it. Bah, too late now, he thought. Just get there now!

Alexis stood with the entire Farkas clan and Shaman Forbasa out the back of the Farkas house. The cracking booms of fighters and their weapons, plus the lights they put off, had brought them out just in time to see the transport plummet to the ground and explode into flame. Around them, behind other homes, the natives of the new town piled out to stare at the strange pyre.

"Ye Gods!" Senmar exclaimed. "Could anyone have survived that?"

Alexis frowned. Not bloody likely, she thought, and was about to say so when her eyes saw a small shadow flicker to the side of the burning pyre. He blood raced as she realized what kind of silhouette she had seen. A man with a parachute...

She turned and raced back into the house, entering the back door where it opened next to the outside hearth. Alexis heard her friends exclaim in surprise and shouted questions, but she ignored them as she went for her coat.

One of the reasons that she had been reluctant to let Senmar handle her jacket was because she had felt embarrassed that she had brought along her small Hold-out Needler pistol. I guess I was being paranoid, thinking that there'd be trouble, she mused as she rifled through the coats. In a second, she had grabbed the lightweight pistol and yanked it free of the small holster she had for it. With the Needler in hand, she turned and jogged back out to where the others stood.

Mikula was the first to see the tension in her body. "What is it, Alexis?"

"I saw a man land with a parachute," she said, cocking back the action and priming the weapon. "Since our friends have the air cordoned off, anything shot down would be most likely an enemy."

Mikula nodded sagely, and Pavlo followed suit, even as the others looked on in confusion. "What's a parachute?" Senmar asked.

Mikula turned and waved him off. "Not now Senmar!" He snapped and turned back to Alexis. "Look, we don't have to do this," he spoke in English to her. "I'm sure that the others can take care of it."

Alexis gave him a stern look. "Mikula, you know very well that someone can sneak away before the others come," she replied in the same language, turning to face the distant wreck. "I'm going, so are you coming along or not?" She asked, turning back to give him a look.

Mikula sighed then. "All right, Alexis," he said and turned around. "Pavlo, are you coming along?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Pavlo responded with a small grin.

"Good," Mikula replied and switched to Lupari as he turned to face his mother. "We're going to go and take a look."

Tiana frowned. "What is it? What were you talking about?"

Alexis shook her head. "We've no time," she said and practically leapt away. Mikula and Pavlo waved a simple goodbye as they started off to follow the running Alexis as she headed for the tall savannah grass beyond the plowed fields that lay behind the town's houses.

"What's going on?" Senmar asked of no one in particular. When he didn't get an answer, he began to follow the other three. Until, that is, Tiana grabbed his arm with her hand. "No, Senmar."

His ears bending back so far that he swore he could feel them burning, Senmar turned to face his mother. "I am not a child anymore, mother."

"No, but you're also inexperienced," Kanu replied for Tiana, bringing Senmar's head around. "Those three have had more experience with his kind of thing than the rest of us. Hell, I wouldn't be going out there even if my leg was all right."

Senmar frowned. "But, you're the eldest. Why wouldn't you go out?"

"Because, Senmar, I know better than to run into a situation in which I know nothing." Kanu pivoted on his good leg to face the dimming fire. "Those three have at least an inkling about what's going on. Getting in their way would only harm us all."

Frowning, Senmar turned to face the same direction as the others. Kanu says he's not experienced, Mikula and Pavlo and some gatón gallivanting off towards the burning wreckage of a flying machine... Is everybody insane?

Alexis ran through the grass, heedless of the noise, until she began to feel the heat from the now-slowed fire. Pausing for a moment, crouching in a ready stance, Mikula and Pavlo nearly ran her over before they spotted her and kneeled down next to the gatón.

"Mikula, Pavlo, your noses are better. Can you smell anything beyond the grass and fire?" Alexis asked as she consciously swiveled her ears back and forth across the arc in front of her.

Both the lupar paused to sniff the air for a moment. "No," Mikula spoke for the both of them. "The fire is too rank."

Alexis grunted. "Okay, here's the plan. I'll sneak forward, you two take a flank." She gestured with the holdout Needler as she spoke. "Keep your ears, eyes, and noses working. Go out about eight gradragnas to either side and move forward from there."

Mikula frowned. He didn't like the fact that the one he cared about would be taking a dangerous point position, but since Alexis was the only one with the pistol, he could only nod acceptance. "Okay, Alexis. But you be careful, okay?"

Alexis smirked slightly. "Same to both of you," she replied. "Callsign is Kuamket."

Mikula blushed a bit at his lapse of memory. "Got it," he said as Pavlo nodded. Alexis then turned and crept forward, parting the grass with her free hand and soon disappearing from view.

At that Mikula turned to face Pavlo to apologize, but his brother just smiled and shook his head. "Don't worry, Mikula," he said and took the right flank automatically, moving off quickly. Still a bit chagrined, Mikula went about moving off to the trio's left flank.

Meanwhile, Alexis continued to creep forward, pausing and listening every few meters. Her heart hammered inside her chest like it was going to explode, and her tail twitched with nervous energy.

Calm down, Alexis, she told herself. Do like Jennifer says, and treat it like a drill. She took a moment to check her breathing, and then continued on.

Eight meters from the burning wreckage, she heard him. A bit of a muffled curse and some scraping noise overlaid on the man's feet trodding the earth below. Alexis paused again; listening to hear of she had been detected. But the man continued in his mysterious efforts, and Alexis crept up some more.

At five meters, the grass had been flash-burned away by the exploding fusion engine, and she had to pause at the outskirts of the burnt zone to peer at the man, who was backlit by the last few flames that still burnt inside the crashed hull of the Assault Transport. Alexis couldn't help but pause at the recognition of the design, but her instincts told her that things were not right. The Republic has their own fighters up, and they'd never shoot down one of their own.

The man working on some sort of case certainly seemed like no Republic soldier she had ever met. Although he seemed fairly young, or at least, not elderly, the hair on the top of his head was almost gone, judging by the way the fire's light glinted off of it. His uniform, if it could be called that, was an all-black jumpsuit. An insignia was on the right shoulder, Alexis could see, but as the man's back was turned to her, she couldn't see it clearly.

After a moment to see if the man would react to her presence, Alexis moved out slowly, tiptoeing on her footpads for extra stealth. The man didn't notice her a bit as she moved to within a meter, his attention rapt on the box. She heard him mutter. "The infidels won't escape this judgment... They may bring down the conveyance, but the will of Blake shall be done."

Alexis felt a chill run up and down her spine at the words, but she bade herself to focus. Finally, she leveled the pistol and spoke in English, inflicting a growl into her words. "Hands up."

The man froze for a moment, turning his head slightly. Then in a blur, he spun about and hurled a knife at Alexis.

But Alexis had seen the muscles in the man's back tense up just prior to the attack, and her instincts and training bid her to dodge to the right even as the knife flew from the man's grasp. Time slowed for Alexis, and she could see the small knife pass closer and closer to her, before it finally zipped by her left arm and disappeared into the tall grass behind her.

Although well timed, her dodge was not the most elegant, and so Alexis fell to the ground, landing on her right side. She managed to hold onto the pistol, though her aim was spoiled by the abrupt change in position, a fact that the black-suited man took advantage of, and he jumped towards Alexis, aiming his fist for a blow that would crush her neck.

However, Alexis was much smaller than a human, and more maneuverable. She easily rolled under the man's path as he flew through the air for that short moment, dodging the blow and allowing her to get into a crouch.

The man, however, was no slouch; seeing himself miss, he tucked into a small ball and used the momentum of his landing to roll away from Alexis, eventually coming upright at the edge of the cleared area in the grass. As he moved, Alexis saw his hand flash towards a holster and bring something out from it.

Tensing, Alexis brought up her pistol in her hand quickly, trying to aim fast enough. The man seemed quicker, however and his evil-looking weapon trained on Alexis. But before he could fire, something moved on the edge of the field to his left, distracting him. A blurred gray shape burst from the grass and bounded towards the man, causing him to react by pulling his gun to follow his eyes.

But it was too late, as the shape landed on top of him, knocking them both over. A loud snarl from the shape identified it as Mikula, and the lupar swiped his right hand over the man's face, using his claws to scrape at the man's eyes.

The human, however, wasn't down for the count. Using his legs, he brought them up and wrapped them around Mikula's neck, and he yanked down to pull the lupar off of him and slammed him to the ground.

Hearing Mikula's pained yelp, Alexis felt her chest tighten. Then the man started to move the hand that still held the pistol, and a fire erupted through her. Still aiming in the general direction, she easily adjusted the barrel of her pistol and fired.

A Needler pistol is a nasty weapon. Instead of firing bullets, it shreds a block of ballistic polymer plastic into hundreds, even thousands of tiny needle-like shards, then uses compressed gas to propel them towards the target. The hold-Out Needler, though smaller and generally less potent than its larger cousins, still had a profound effect as it coughed out a cloud of plastic, sending it at high velocity to slam into the man's meaty upper arm, shredding muscles and eliciting a scream of pain from the black-clad human. The pistol in his hands dropped as his arm went limp, and it fell to the ground with an audible thunk.

Then Pavlo appeared, racing in from Alexis' left and from behind the man. Unlike Mikula, who had gone to all-fours to get an extra burst of speed, Pavlo ran on two legs so that he could deliver a resounding kick to the back of the man's skull. Alexis heard a meaty thwack, and the man went unconscious, falling to lie on the ground.

Alexis paused for a moment, aiming the pistol at the man's head. When he didn't get up, she levered herself up to two feet and slowly walked towards where the man and Mikula lay, the latter still half-trapped under the human's legs.

Pavlo walked over and checked on Mikula even as Alexis managed to get to the gun the man had dropped. Still aiming carefully at the human's head, she moved a leg and kicked the weapon away from the prone form without even looking at it, as she had been taught.

A groan came from where Mikula lay, and Alexis couldn't help but divide her attention. "Is he all right, Pavlo?"

The younger lupar looked up at Alexis. "I think so. He's still breathing, and nothing's bleeding."

"Well, don't move him," Alexis replied. "His neck could be broken." Although the idea scared the life out of her, the approaching sounds of jump jets comforted her. Help's coming soon, Mikula.

Van Horn jumped the last thirty meters, having paused a moment to see who had been fighting at the site. When he saw the telltale biometric traces of lupar and gatón, he was sure he knew who had gotten there. Now that he landed a few meters from where Alexis stood with a gun pointed at a very unconscious and bleeding man, he also saw the signs of a struggle, and one Mikula lying on the ground.

"Alexis, Pavlo," he said as he walked over from where he had landed. "What's the situation?"

"Saw a man land via parachute, went out to investigate," Alexis, worried and still filled with adrenalin, clipped her words, and her accent in English became pronounced. "He resisted capture, fought. Mikula is hurt."

Van Horn switched his sensors to sweep the entire area as Alexis was talking. Then, satisfied that no one else was nearby - save the upcoming Vanquishers - he walked over to Mikula and kneeled, looking over the prone form of the lupar.

Doesn't look too bad... "How'd he get hurt?"

"The man, he used his legs and slammed Mikula into the ground head-first." Alexis spoke, a bit more in control of her emotions now that some of the adrenalin began to drain from her system.

Van Horn grunted and switched his active probe to a special, medical setting that only the Republic had bothered to develop for its scout suits. Ultra-low frequency sound waves, undetectable to any living creature larger than a mollusk, were emitted out from a sensor port, penetrating Mikula's flesh. Within a few seconds, his suit projected a crude, but recognizable image of Mikula's neck bones. He breathed a large sigh of relief when he saw that everything looked as it should. "He's okay, Alexis. Probably just got knocked for a loop."

Alexis sighed in relief, even as van Horn placed his weapon down and began to feel along Mikula's neck and head, making sure that everything felt in place. Thank God. He may have a headache when he wakes up, but he'll live.

"Earl, what does this symbol mean?" Pavlo asked from behind. Standing up and switching his sensors to normal, military full-scan, van Horn turned around and looked to where the lupar stood next to a box. He walked over almost casually, until he saw what symbol Pavlo was pointing at.

It was a simple, elegant symbol. Hardly anything one would consider a bringer of dire portent, but it had haunted humanity since the 20th century. A symbol easily recognizable with its alternating wedges of black and yellow, a black circle in the middle and an outline also done in the color of death.

"Pavlo, get the Hell away from that," van Horn said, switching his sensors to radiation count. The marvel of the Active Probe suit once again came though, and a directional-cascade Geiger counter mounted in van Horn's helmet, aligned to read whatever he was looking at, came to life.

Even as Pavlo stepped back, van Horn heard the constant chattering of the counter. In his nervousness, he mistook the sensitivity settings for a second, briefly wondering why his friends weren't loosing their hair already. Then he noticed that the counter had come on in its most sensitive setting, and with a mental curse, he used his helmet's control system to switch the counter to a more reasonable setting.

Damn thing should come on the least sensitive setting, not the most he grumped to himself. But his relief at the mostly-normal background radiation - augmented only with the typical residue of a brief fusion reaction -softened his nerves.

"Van Horn!" Lieutenant Vickers' voice came over van Horn's helmet radio, and he saw that it was on the common frequency. "Report status."

Van Horn turned and saw the first of the Vanquishers arrive on the scene; scout armor and Vickers' own Kage IIC. "Sir, one hostile survived via parachute. Embedded specialists have captured him, and he needs medical attention." He almost smirked at the official title for the three natives, but then he remembered the case behind him. "And we found one nuke."

Vickers' armor seemed to freeze in mid-stride, as did a couple of the scout armored troopers, though the one van Horn recognized as belonging to his friend Castellano continued to act as if nothing was wrong. "Care to repeat that, son?"

Van Horn stood to the side, revealing the metal, olive drab case and its markings. "There is, sitting right there, one tactical nuclear device, sir. At least, that's what the symbols and lettering mean."

Vickers walked slowly up to the case, his bulky armor mocking his trepid movements. He kneeled next to the case as he got to it, and quickly read the labels.

"Jesus fucking H. Christ on a Pogo Stick..." He breathed. "This is a fifty kiloton warhead," he said and opened the box. Van Horn twinged a bit when he heard his radiation counter grow loud, but he saw that the Rad levels were still safe, just elevated as if it were a hot summer day... Next to a Uranium deposit.

"That's a nuke alright," Vickers said, bringing van Horn out of his reverie. "Mother fuckers..." With that, van Horn heard a click as his voice died out, and he knew that the lieutenant was now calling the Major to report the find.

Turning around, forcing himself to suppress a shudder at what might-have-been, van Horn walked the few steps to where Alexis and Pavlo had pulled Mikula, Alexis holding her lover's head in her lap. Castellano had finished checking the lupar, and now was applying bandages to the shredded arm of the captured Blakest.

Van horn turned off his radiation counter, and leaned to pick up his gun before getting to the trio of natives. Kneeling, he took off his helmet and looked them over. "I leave you three alone for a few hours, and you get into a fight," he said with mock gravity. Then he smiled, never able to keep a straight face for long.

Alexis and Pavlo smiled a bit at the attempt to lighten their mood. "I guess we have that knack," Pavlo replied.

"Well, you three did good tonight," van Horn said, and then looked over his shoulder. "There aren't many people around who can say they caught a ROM operative."

Alexis blinked her eyes. "A what?"

Van Horn turned back. "That symbol, on his shoulder. It's from the Wobbies' ROM corps." He shook his head. "They're a tough sort, supposed to kill themselves to prevent capture," he then looked at the other two and smiled broadly. "But you got him. That's some damn fine work."

Mikula then groaned, and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "What...?" He asked, somewhat dazed, and looked around.

Alexis let out a small noise, almost a yelp. "Mikula! Are you okay?" She asked.

Mikula turned to look at her. "Alexis... Oh!" He blinked his eyes a few times, obviously remembering. "Is it over?"

She nodded with a smile on her face. Mikula just cocked his head, clearly not fully recovered yet. "Did we get him?"

Alexis, Pavlo, and van Horn all laughed. "You got 'em, boy" the latter said, landing his armored hand gently on Mikula's shoulder. "You got 'em, and not a moment too soon."

The next day dawned over a scene of activity that startled the natives who traveled to tend their fields. The Seabees, with their conventional vehicles and construction 'mechs seemed to work at an almost frantic pace, while a small group of them, guarded by troopers in battle armor and a lance of 'mechs, worked over the burnt out wreckage of the crashed transport.

Pavlo looked over the area from his perspective behind his family's new home. He alone had come back to inform the others from the interrupted dinner about what had happened, as Mikula had been taken to the Infirmary for observation, and Alexis, of course, didn't want to leave his side just yet. It had been hard, explaining to the others what had transpired, partially because they didn't, couldn't know the danger of what a single zealot could do.

He shuddered. I may not have been as interested in our friends' history like Alexis, or even Mikula, he thought. But even I couldn't avoid hearing even a little bit about their past. Their entertainment is filled with stories from their history. He smirked a bit. Hell, some of their stories aren't even for pure entertainment. 'Documentaries,' they call them. Pavlo had seen one such documentary, one about a period of time called the Secession Wars.

I didn't know what that symbol meant, but when Earl explained it to us... He shuddered again. He said it was enough to blast the entire area, enough to kill everyone in Hercor, Shulana, and the firebase.

"Pavlo, are you all right?" A familiar voice asked from behind him. Pavlo turned around and found his younger brother standing behind him. "I'm fine, Senmar. Why do you ask"

The other lupar frowned a bit in puzzlement. "You were shuddering, like you were cold. I just wanted to see if you were getting sick."

Pavlo smiled a bit. "No, I'm alright. I'm..." He turned and looked over the area nearby, as if seeing it for the first time. "I was just thinking about what might have been." With that, he shuddered again.

Senmar frowned, not only in puzzlement, but also in fear. "You look like you're being haunted by a spirit. What has scared you so?"

Pavlo turned and looked over his brother, ready to tell him a little white lie so that no one else need know the terror. But he saw Senmar's trusting eyes, and he sighed. "The man I told you all last night, the one we captured. He had a weapon..." He turned away again, this time looking to the crash site. "A weapon so powerful that it would have killed everyone in both towns, and in the base."

Silence reigned for a moment, before Senmar spoke up again. "You're... You're kidding, right?" When Pavlo shook his head in reply, Senmar huffed a bit. "I don't believe you. I can't even begin to imagine such a weapon."

Pavlo grunted. "I wouldn't have believed it either, Senmar, but then I saw the records, the images taken from centuries ago by our friends' people." He lowered his head and shook it. "What we see here, at Hercor and Shulana; it's their best, Senmar. The best of their kind," he finished and looked up at his brother. "But they're the best because they saw what the worst can do, and decided to make themselves better than that."

Pavlo sighed. "And their worst?" He paused, unsure of any words in any language that could convey the sheer immensity. "Their worst is wholesale slaughter, rampant destruction. And the primary agent for that destruction is a set of weapons they call, 'weapons of mass destruction.'

"And one of them, one capable of wiping the land clean of life, was nearly used last night." Pavlo again shuddered. Everyone... My family, my friends... All dead in the flash of an eye.

Senmar was stunned by not only the enormity of Pavlo's words, but also because of his tone and body language. He believes it... So much so that even talking about it makes him afraid. The young lupar felt cold tendrils of fear lace up his back. "What... How could it do that?"

Pavlo took a moment before responding. "It would have done it by burning us all alive in a light that would make the sun pale in comparison, with invisible forces that would rip apart your body from the inside out, and then burn your flesh away to the bones." Although his voice was low, it carried to Senmar's ears with the force of conviction. "And that's if you were lucky. If by some miracle you survived by being far enough away, then you would only suffer a death slower, and much more painful as those forces I told you about would tear you up still, just much slower."

Now Senmar shuddered. I don't know everything he's talking about, but Pavlo couldn't lie to me in a hundred years. "Who would design such an evil weapon?"

Pavlo grunted. "Someone who wanted to end a war quickly, and without loosing any on his own men." Pavlo turned and gave Senmar a sidelong glance. "Is that not the goal of all army generals?"

"Yes, but," Senmar hesitated, unsure of what his elder brother was saying. "But slaughter of civilians is dishonorable!"

Pavlo grunted. "Yes, it is. But what if, Senmar, they weren't really civilians?"

Senmar was brought up short by that question. "What? But... How... What do you mean?" He asked, exasperated.

"What if, Senmar, those civilians would throw themselves at you with wooden spears, trying to kill you?" Pavlo asked quietly, almost as if he were talking to himself. "Imagine that; a whole city arising to attack you with whatever they could get their hands on." He turned his head then to look at his brother fully in the eye. "Can you tell me, then, that you wouldn't fight to save your own life or the life of your comrades?"

Senmar frowned. "I've never heard of such a thing!" But his brother just stared at him, and so he sighed before replying. "Yes... I suppose I would fight and kill anyone who threatened my life." He gulped. "Even if they were simply civilians."

Pavlo nodded and turned to face the crash site again. "But in any such battle, you'd loose friends. Even your own life." He glanced over to see Senmar nod. "Suppose, then, that you knew with all due certainty that a city was going to be like that, a complete bloodbath." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Suppose, then, that you had a weapon that would do the same thing as sending your army in. It would result in the deaths of many civilians... But it would save the lives of your comrades.

"And suppose, just suppose, that by destroying one such city with a weapon like that, you convince all other cities with such inclinations that having their civilians rise and fight is wrong?"

Senmar blinked. "Then..." His mind whirled, unaccustomed to such thinking. It's the wholesale slaughter of innocents! Or is it? By taking up weapons against an army, aren't they no longer innocent? Such different subtleties! He reached up and rubbed his aching head with his hands. "You're making my head hurt, Pavlo."

Pavlo chuckled softly, darkly, for just a moment. "I assure you, that when I learned about all of this, my head hurt as well." He sighed. "I'm only telling you this now, Senmar, because our friends, they have the same weapons of mass destruction as our enemies."

"What?" Senmar looked confused. "They'd use such a weapon?"

Pavlo nodded. "Yes. But unlike our enemies, the humans here know when to use a weapon." He turned his body fully to face his brother, jacket swaying in the cool breeze. "And that's why I've been making your head hurt. I want you to realize what I've learned."

Senmar frowned. "I... Don't think I understand."

Pavlo shook his head slightly. "What I've learned is that it's not weapons, nor technology," he used the English word, "that are evil. You shouldn't judge a person because of what he uses, but how he uses it, just as you do not judge a person entirely by their appearance."

Senmar's ears twitched a bit. "I don't think I get you."

"You will, Senmar, you will."

Alexis awoke as someone shook her arm. Coming alert quickly, she opened her eyes and squinted as they adjusted. "Yes?"

"Sorry to wake you," the male orderly said. "But your gatón friend woke up and he seems to want something, but we don't know what."

Alexis shook her head slightly, trying to clear the last vestiges of sleep. Then she looked around the Infirmary, where she had spent the night.

The smallish building was separated into several rooms. The opening foyer which was also the waiting area and pharmacy counter, the pharmacy behind it, an operating room next to that on the right, and on the left, a large room for patients that couldn't or wouldn't be moved or released quickly. Alexis sat in the latter, on a folding chair that sat next to the bed where Mikula lay sleeping still. Looking around, she saw three of the four other beds cordoned off with sheets hanging from rails in the ceiling. In them, she knew, were two lupar and one gatón, all severely wounded from either the Blakest attack of a week ago, or one from even earlier.

"Alright, I'm up," Alexis replied to the orderly and stood slowly, stretching her arms and legs one by one as she did. "Which one is he again?"

The orderly pointed to a privacy screen that lined the bed deepest into the room. "Over there," he said and turned to walk for it. Alexis spared a look at Mikula to see if he had been waked, but the lupar still slept, a hint of a smile on his face.

Alexis smiled a bit at that, letting it fuel her emotions so that she could go and see her friend with a light heart. Quickly then, she turned and followed the orderly to the curtained bed. The man waited for her to arrive before he pulled the curtain back.

On the bed lay a recovering Soru, still badly burned from the Blakest attack on Kuamket months ago. Although his skin had healed a bit in the intervening time, he still was in such bad shape that he couldn't really move without being in terrible pain. Every time Alexis saw him, she felt like cringing in sympathy.

Now, though, even five days of Republic medical science, as hindered as it was by the local conditions, had helped. Devices that looked to be a cross between bandages, intravenous inserts, and electrodes sat on various patches of burnt skin. Connected to a computerized machine that dripped fluids and controlled the 'bandages,' they looked like some mad scientist's invention. But Alexis could see healed patches of skin where the devices had been before, and she knew that they were a crude, but effective version of the medical machines that helped her heal on New Honshu.

Beneath the devices, of course, lay Soru himself. He had raised his head ad the sound of the curtain moving, and even managed a tiny, barely perceptible smile. "Alexis," he croaked, his throat sore from lack of use.

Alexis quickly walked to the side of the bed left free of the machines, and she laid a hand gently on his right. A slight twinge in his eyes showed that she hadn't been light enough, but Soru's continued smile pushed that thought from her head. "Soru, how are you today?" She asked in Gatonese.

"Fine." he replied, laying his head back and closing his eyes, the better to conserve strength for speaking. "Wanted... Friendly voice... Maybe... Food?"

Alexis blinked. "Sure. Let me ask." She turned her head to look at the orderly. "He's asking for food. Is that good?"

The orderly also blinked for a bit, then he smiled. "It's very good news, I think." he said and walked to the side of the bed that had all the machines and IV bottles. "Well, his nutritional drip is still full, so that's not it." He paused and stroked his chin in thought for a second, and then turned to look at Alexis. "I'll go get Doctor Jennings and have him look at this. That is, if you don't mind me leaving for a minute?"

Alexis shook her head. "No, that's fine."

The man nodded. "Okay. But if there's any trouble, remember there's another orderly in the next room, okay?" He waited for Alexis to nod her head before he turned and hustled off in a fast walk.

"You... Can speak... Their language... Well..." Soru said, a hint of a smile gracing his lips again.

Alexis turned her head back to Soru and smiled. Though she knew he couldn't see it, she also knew that it would inflect in her voice. "Yes. It's not as romantic as Gatonese, but it's very useful." She wanted to lay a hand on his head, but she resisted the urge. "You'll like it, I'm sure."

Soru smiled again. "Hope... You can... teach it..."

Alexis chuckled softly. "Tell you what. You get better, and I'll teach you it. Deal?"

"Deal" Soru breathed, still a smile on his face.

Doctor Jennings walked into the patient area of the Infirmary a few minutes later. Although technically assigned to the USS Roger Young, Jennings had managed to persuade Captain Ladavic to allow him to tend to the injured on the planet when he heard that Major Kujira wanted an Infirmary in his firebase. And so now he cared for whatever small hurts and colds the soldiers got, but also he tended the few very sick or injured from the native towns.

Some doctors would've found it repulsive, or merely beneath them. Jennings, though, simply wanted to help people, and after tending Alexis and Pavlo for a couple of weeks, he knew enough about the locals to think of them as people.

Thus it was with a genuine smile of concern that he approached the bed where Soru lay. "Hello, Alexis, Soru," he said. Though he knew nothing of the natives' languages, he did know that simply speaking a patient's name often helped their peace of mind. "Mark told me that Soru was hungry."

Alexis nodded. "He asked for food a bit ago. Well, that and a friendly voice," she added, blushing a bit.

Jennings nodded to her words as he checked over the machines and their digital readouts. "Well, that's good on both respects," he said warmly as he pulled a stethoscope from the pocket of his coat; a white coat ubiquitous to all doctors since the 20th Century. He put the earpieces in their proper places and then looked at Alexis. "I want to listen to his chest, so could you warn him?"

"Of course," Alexis replied with a nod. Then she turned and spoke softly to Soru. "Kay deshoro ut chu kreka. Ki ago kerr."

Soru sighed. "Ye crao. Sho naké."

"He says to go ahead," Alexis translated. Jennings nodded and gently placed the end of the stethoscope onto Soru's chest. The young gatón took in a quick breath, but he didn't yell out in pain.

Good, that means that he's gainin' strength and that the meds are working, Jennings thought. Then he listened quietly to several places on Soru's exposed chest, checking the noises of his heart, lungs, and digestive tract. He was pleased to hear noises from the latter. "Good, very good..." He muttered softly, going back and forth to check on what he heard. Finally, he took off the metal end of the 'scope and faced Alexis with a small smile. "Well, he sounds all right, and the readouts show that his body's sucking up the nutrients faster than the IV is supplying them." Jennings turned to look over them again, and then he turned to head to the foot of the bed. There he picked up the noteputer-based chart and consulted it for a moment.

Alexis waited for a bit, but then couldn't wait any longer. "So doctor, what's going on?"

"Hmm?" Jennings looked up, temporarily confused. Then he smiled at Alexis as his mind reentered the present. "Oh, well, it's a good sign." He looked over the chart again. "And I think we can try letting him have some light foods. Fluids, mostly, maybe some soft stuff."

Alexis smiled broadly. "That's good to hear." Then her stomach rumbled at the thought of food, eliciting a blush from the female gatón small laugh from Jennings. "Sounds like he's not the only one who could use some food, hmm?" He asked with a wink. Alexis smiled and nodded.

"Well, it's good that I had Mark head for the mess tent, now wasn't it?" Jennings replied with a chuckle. "I figured that Soru here might be better, so I had our friend stop by there. He oughta be here soon with breakfast trays for you and Mikula, and a little extra for Soru here." Jennings then yawned. "Excuse me, it's been a long night."

Alexis tilted her head a bit. "Have you been up all night, doctor?"

"I'm afraid so," Jennings replied with another smile. "Had to help stabilize that Wobbie y'all caught, and peek in a few times to check on Mikula over there just to make sure none of us missed anything." He yawned again. "'Scuse me. I think that, unless you have any more questions, I'm going to head for bed."

"No, no more questions," Alexis said with a shake of her head. "Thank you so much, Doctor. For everything."

Jennings waved her off. "'Twas nothing. See ya." With that, he turned and headed for the door.

Alexis watched Dr. Jennings leave, and then turned to face Soru. "The doctor says you're doing better, so that you can have some food."

Soru smiled a bit. "Good... Been... A while..." He said. Alexis knew that he had eaten, of course, since he was injured, but it was never a lot. Part of the reason he's still so bad, she thought, is that he never could eat too much before he passed out. He had lost so much weight before we returned that I wouldn't have recognized him if not for his injuries. Indeed, Soru had been so gaunt that when the Republic medics had seen him, they had practically raced to help him.

He hadn't had anything to eat for a week before, she remembered Forbasa telling her the night before. He would've died had we not gotten back so soon. Perhaps it was fortuitous that the Wobbies had attacked Hercor when they did, otherwise... She forced the idea from her mind. He's alive and taken care of now, no need to fret.

The sound of man banging into a wall and cursing caused Alexis to turn towards the entrance from the room. Standing there was the male orderly from before, and he balanced two steaming trays as he walked towards where Alexis stood next to Soru's bed.

"I'll be right back," she said quietly to Soru and let go of his hand. She then turned to face the orderly and switched to English. "Do you want help with those?"

The man looked up with slightly stricken look in his brown eyes. "Please?"

Alexis grinned and walked over, taking one tray from the man's arms. With a sigh, the orderly quickly took the other, slightly more heavily laden tray in both of his hands. "Thanks, Ms. Hurano."

"Don't mention it." she replied automatically. Then she gestured to Mikula. "Can I wake him?"

"Oh, yes." the man nodded. "Doc Jennings came in an hour before I woke you and checked on him. He's fine, so as soon as he's awake and fed y'all can leave."

"Thank you." Alexis replied with a wide smile. "I'll just place this next to his bed, then, since he wakes up faster if he smells food."

The man laughed heartily. "That sounds like everyone I know. Including myself." he added with a grin as Alexis placed the tray she carried onto the seat of the folding chair she had slept/sat in. The man then walked over to Soru's bedside and hooked a small cart with a foot, dragging it over to the bed so that he could place the tray on it.Alexis soon followed. "That reminds me, though." she said. "What time is it?"

"Oh." the orderly said and then checked his watch. "It's about 545 Lima. They're gonna sound reveille in about fifteen minutes, so don't mind the bugle."

Alexis smiled. "Thanks, and I won't." She waved to Soru then. "I can take care of my friend if you need to do something else."

The orderly smiled. "Thanks. Gotta catch up with one of my coworkers on board the Fist of Fury." he said, naming the Apollo-class DropShip. Then he looked over the other, curtained-off beds. "The others are still sedated, so they oughta sleep for another few hours. Doctor's orders, so you shouldn't have any problems. But if you do." he turned his head to face Alexis. "call Arianna in the next room. She'll be there until I get back."

"Okay." Alexis replied with a nod. "Thank you again, Mark."

He smiled. "You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me?" He bowed slightly and turned to leave the room.

Alexis watched him go, a smile on her face. She then turned to go stand by Soru's bed again, though this time she had to share space with the food. "Smells... Good..." Soru said as he heard her walk up. Alexis chuckled. "Well, glad to know your nose is all healed up already," she teased and turned to look over the meal.

The tray was stocked as well as the Republic could make it. Humans called breakfast 'the most important meal of the day,' and Alexis found herself agreeing with the idea more and more. Especially with all the great food they have for it. On the tray was a stack of three waffles, each half the size of a human male's hand, five strips of canned bacon, and a pile of something called 'grits.' The latter had a big pat of butter laying on them, since few people could eat regular grits without some sort of flavor enhancement. Of course, there were the standard plastic utensils.

Sitting in the cup holder of the tray was a tall glass of orange juice, and Alexis almost purred in anticipation as she sniffed it. Yes! Real stuff this time, she thought happily, having developed a taste for the morning treat. Hmm, it's full of nutrients though, so I should let Soru have it. Before she could change her mind, Alexis quickly freed the plastic straw on the tray from its paper coat and put it into the glass. Then she lifted it and held it over by Soru's head. "Here, this is a treat, Soru. But you'll have to pick up your head to drink it."

Soru smirked a bit, and then opened his eyes. "Looks... Strange..." But he tilted his head up a bit, which let Alexis place the straw into his mouth. "Just draw it up like you were taking water from a bowl," she suggested helpfully.

The bed-ridden gatón slurped at the straw for a moment before he got the hang of it. Then he drew some of the orange liquid into his mouth, and then laid his head back and closed his eyes. He didn't swallow for a bit, and Alexis feared a problem. She was about to call to the other orderly when Soru did swallow the drink, and he opened his eyes to look at her with a small grin. "Too good... To just... Swallow... Right away."

Alexis stuck her tongue out at him. "Sure, go and scare me like that." She shook her head in mock reproach, but the smile on her face belied any real anger. "Well, at least you're feeling good enough to jest." She said and put the glass back up to Soru's head, and he lifted himself up to drink some more. This time, he swallowed quickly, though still with a noticeable lag. "Very... Good... What is... It?"

"It's juice from a fruit our friends have," Alexis replied and put the glass back to the tray. "It's full of good things that will help you heal, in addition to tasting good."

Alexis went on talking to Soru, helping him to eat some grits and more orange juice before he finally noted that he was full. Then she went about demolishing the food left over, the night's activities having drained her reserves.

Well, that, and this food is almost impossible to resist, she thought as she finished her fourth piece of bacon. She looked over the remaining food - still plentiful even after she was full. This is nearly three times as much as we gatón normally eat. She had, of course, already been introduced to human breakfasts before, but it still overwhelmed her when she thought of it. And she couldn't help but think about it as a waffle, half the grits, and a piece of bacon. The orange juice, however, she had gone after as much as she could, and only a small amount sat in the glass.

Alexis turned her head to ask Soru if he wanted any more of the drink, but she saw that he had closed his eyes. "Soru?" She asked softly. The other gatón, however, kept his eyes closed, and Alexis realized that he must have fallen asleep. She slowly stepped back from the bed, quietly pulling the cart with the tray on it away so that she wouldn't trip on it. Then she turned around...

...And almost ran into Mikula, who was standing only a foot behind her and smiling. "Oh!" Alexis let out a small noise of alarm, and then brought her hands up to wrap them around her muzzle to prevent her from making any more noise.

Mikula's smile broadened, and Alexis did her best to glare at him as she lowered her hands. "You little zugert!" She chided him quietly, mindful of the others in the room.

Mikula chuckled. "You should have seen your face," he replied in an equally soft tone.

Alexis tilted her head down and shook it as if in rapprochement, but in reality it was to hide her smile. "Well, at least you've woken up before you wasted the entire day" she said and, giving up on her pretense, looked up ad Mikula with a smile.

Suddenly, the brilliant notes of Reveille started to blare across the encampment, startling both of the natives standing in the Infirmary. The grinned sheepishly to each other as the notes continued, though Alexis spared a glance to make sure that Soru didn't reawaken.

"Wasted the day, huh?" Mikula asked her as she turned back to face him. "I think you'd disagree with someone who managed to eat breakfast before Reveille." He said and indicated his tray. Alexis leaned to her left to look behind Mikula. Sure enough, the tray was nearly empty, with only a handful of grits and half a waffle left.

"Well, then perhaps with such a full belly, you'll be able to help me work with the techs today, hmm?" She asked playfully, leaning on Mikula and wrapping her arms around his middle.

Mikula's smile dimmed a bit at that. "Alexis, don't take this the wrong way, as you know I support you, but... Do you always need to be doing such heavy work?"

Alexis frowned a bit. "No, not really. But it helps me work through my feelings, by being able to just let go and just do things," she said, and then flashed Mikula a grin. "Why? Afraid of having a girlfriend who's stronger than you?"

"Stronger? Why you," he smirked and broke from Alexis' embrace, bending over to grab her around the waist. With a squeal from Alexis, Mikula picked her up and held her above the floor. "You'll wake everyone up," he grunted.

"Then put me down!" She said in a much quieter pitch, though her tone belied her excited state. Mikula readily obliged, glad to relieve himself of her weight. I may be strong, but she's still heavy, he told himself to assuage any hurt ego.

"We should go outside," Alexis said after she calmed down a bit"so we won't wake the others."

Mikula nodded his assent, and the two quickly collected the trays and left the building. They then walked in silence towards the mess tent, even as soldiers began to rouse for the new day. They slipped into and out of the mess tent quickly, before the rush hit, and then headed for the tent they shared with their friends.

In the small 'alley' formed by the now-empty tents of the vanquishers, Alexis cleared her throat. "So, Mikula, why don't you want me working with the heavy stuff?" She asked, seemingly lightheartedly, though Mikula knew better.

The lupar sighed before replying. "Alexis, it's not that... I don't..." Mikula shook his head and then started again. "It's just that, when you do that work, you're so tired that you can hardly move at the end of the day." He stopped walking, forcing Alexis to do so as well, and they faced each other. "I know you're strong, and that you can handle it, but it makes me feel guilty... I'm just stronger than you. Don't take that as an insult, or anything, it's just fact that I'm larger." He looked away from Alexis, his face twisted in discomfort of a sort. "I feel guilty because I feel like I should do something to help you. Because I want to keep you from... I mean, that is..." He titled his head down and looked at his feet then, at a loss for words.

Alexis raised a hand and touched the side of his muzzle, bringing Mikula's face up to look into her softly smiling countenance. "I think I get it now. You just want to protect me because you're worried about me wearing myself out?"

Mikula nodded. "Yes, that, and I... I do love you, and I want to make it so that you don't have to do anything so hard or trying." He reached up and took her hand in both of his. "To me, you're like a treasure, something to protect because you're worth more to me than my own life."

Alexis blushed as deeply as she could. "Mikula... I thank you, I really do." She said and took a breath to keep her voice from cracking. "And you should know that I love you as much as you love me.

"But I'm not doing the heavy work for no reason," she continued. "I have a couple, the first being that I am helping our friends, which means they can help us better, which means that our world will be safe that much sooner."

Mikula nodded, releasing her hand as she gently pulled it back. "And the other?" He asked.

"The other reason is that, by doing this heavy, greasy, hot and uncomfortable work, I'm proving to myself that I'm not just my father's daughter, that I'm Alexis Hurano, a person who can make up her own mind and choose to do such work because it is hard." She frowned. "And not because it's what my father or anyone else would have me do."

Mikula smiled a bit, and he nodded. "I understand, Alexis," he said and then sighed. "I just ask that you'll not hurt yourself, okay?"

She smiled. "Don't worry, Mikula. I won't do anything stupid like sitting in a car that's being shot at," she teased and poked him in the belly with a finger claw.

He chuckled. "And I won't stand in front a machine gun then. Deal?"

"Deal," she said and stepped next to him, getting on her tiptoes to kiss him.

In the command shed, Major Kujira looked grimly over the maps in his holotank. He then turned to look at the virtual screen on which Captain Ladavic's face floated. "This has been confirmed?"

Ladavic nodded. "We've been working on fine-tuning the neutrino detector since we managed a stable orbit. We've singled out only man-made sources, per SOP, and the sources in that cluster you're lookin' at are too small, too slow to be a fusion device."

Kujira frowned deeply. "Couldn't it be a reactor, or group of reactors on standby?"

Ladavic shook her head slowly. "Wrong profiles entirely, and again, far too slow a rate of fusion. And before you ask, they're far too much for a natural deposit." She grunted. "Besides, even if they were natural in profile, the geology's all wrong. It's a flood plain formed over a dry seabed, not a covered lava field like where you're sitting. And then we took SAR pictures to see if there were anything metal large enough to produce them." She shook her head again. "I'm afraid that Intel's assessment stands fully supported by the facts."

Kujira suppressed a shudder, partially because of the news, and partially because of what the Intel men might've done to get the information from their captive Wobbie. "How many" He asked in a tone that was barely more than a whisper.

"Just over two dozen. Can't get more accurate than that 'cuz some're pretty small. But..." Her voice trailed off, and they both looked at the map that they shared via the Republic battlenet.

Kujira finally broke the silence. "Captain, I think that I may need your services in respect to this situation."

Ladavic spared a small grin. "Do tell?"