Bloody Bound, Bathed, & Oathed

We were eerily silent, even for ourselves who never spoke or showed emotion during the day, and there was something sinister in that silence that the other Units we passed avoided like the plague. You could sense it in their suddenly frightened scents more so than the usual intimidation, and even the trainers, ordinary they may be, seemed to sense it. Or perhaps they had been let in on what was going on that they knew not to mess with us.

By quiet agreement we made our way with a studied purpose to High Point Ridge where Unit 10 trembled in fearful foreboding as soon as we entered the courtyard. Units 13, 20, and 15 were also present, which was unexpected as we had only been made aware of Unit 10, but that was all right. In the mood we were in, what was a few dozen more opponents? Now, the other units may not have been Pack and as closely bonded as we, but they were transgenic, and right now all their animal instincts were screaming danger and something's wrong. They shifted closer amongst themselves, a Pack in their own right, seeking comfort as only each other could give.

Trainer Webster glanced between our units and he swallowed hard. I wasn't feeling remotely friendly, as were my packmates, and it must have showed through. Oh, we came to attention with more snap and intensity than ever before, and it set Trainer Webster and his junior Trainer Cam on edge. The two adults glanced at each other nervously before Webster stepped forward to begin.

"Today's exercise will be a lesson in Find and Retrieve. On the battlefield or in a mission, there will be times when you have to find and retrieve valuable objectives be they information, currency, surveillance footage, hostages, and prototypes just to name a few. To do that, you must incorporate some of what you already know from other exercises: escape and evade, seek and destroy." Webster's voice slightly faltered and his eyes unwittingly slid over to were with silent passion that seemed to alarm him my pack and I waited. Cam cleared his throat and stepped up.

"Today's mission requires that you go into enemy territory and retrieve your objective," the younger man held up two bright red bandanas so we all could see.

"Hide your flag to make it more difficult for the other Unit to retrieve while at the same time setting up a plan of attack that will allow you to take theirs," Webster took back control, having gained his cool for the moment.

"Scoring will be based upon retrieval of the other team's flag, the number of soldiers you manage to keep, and execution of planning. Do you understand?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir!"

"Good. X5s-599 and 530 come forward."

Zack and Unit 10's commanding officer broke rank and marched down the double file, Unit 2 on one side, the other four units on the other so that it gave the impression of them walking down the gauntlet to come to attention before the two trainers.

"Sir!" they both saluted, Zack's crisp and no-nonsense, and X5-530's sharp and professional. The two commanding officers were impressive, physically evenly matched, or so it seemed. Five Three Zero was a combat model same as Zack, but Zack was more supple and streamlined, his muscles evident but subtlety hidden by being in proportion with each other. 530's seemed almost chunky at first glance, but that notion was quickly disabused with the second.

He was big and 'chunky' the way a linebacker or fullback on a football team was built. His body screamed strength and power, and he held his darkly buzzed cut head high and shoulders back proudly. That big chunkiness would disappear later into powerful musculature that would give any pro wrestler envious chills. His eyes were a nondescript light brown, pretty unremarkable for a transgenic, but they gave the impression of authority.

But it wasn't the bodies that set them apart. There was an air of quiet menace about Zack, that type that just blares out he'd do whatever it took to get the job done or keep his family safe. His eyes were pure crystalline orbs, and he practically thrummed with authority. This was a soldier, a commanding officer, someone who led and was listened to, and he had an edge, an extreme that 530 was lacking and truly set Zack apart from the others as not just a soldier assigned a job; he lived and breathed leading his Unit and there was no force in this world that was going to stop him. Five Three Zero paled in comparison.

"Here are your objectives. Units 10, 13, 15, and 20 will head out first, X5-530 C.O. of the combined four. Regroup here when you are finished. You will be timed, so bear that in mind, however there is no set time limit. Time will begin once Unit 2 leaves the courtyard after 530's command is out of sight. Understood?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir!"

Webster handed the bandanas over to the commanding officers and the two saluted the trainers and marched back to their respective Units. The two C.O.'s nodded to one another and Five Three Zero motioned for his unit to leave and follow. Back in the courtyard I waited with my unit in a silent group until even straining with transgenic hearing we could not make them out among the natural noises of the woods and Manticore in the background. Even then we did not move, and the trainers were beginning to get nervous and irritated again, despite the fact they knew we were hopelessly outnumbered eighteen to eighty.

Before Cam could open his mouth, as one, we suddenly blurred and left the ordinaries gaping at where we had been. I didn't question how I knew that at that moment we (the Pack) would move in concert, I just did, and I moved. I didn't question how I could sense and just knew where each and every pack member was, even the ones I couldn't see as we naturally started to fan out and I couldn't see some of us through the dense foliage and the distance between us.

SEPARTATED. DISTANCE.

No! Don't think that way! I faltered and just stood there, for a moment overwhelmed by the sheer feeling of hopelessness and aching, knowing that this was going to be the last time I raced with my brothers and sisters in the woods as a team, a unit, a family.

MISSION. OBJECTIVE. DISCIPLINE. UNIT.

The words flashed through my mind and I quickly regained my place with my family. Somehow, I knew that they had reached the same conclusions I had, and we were going to make the best of this. But for now, we needed to focus in on the task at hand. Namely, how we were going to beat Unit 10 and the others.

I came into a clearing and crouched down, pausing listen as my brothers and sisters and family all gathered round, our gaze on Zack and Eva in the middle. Solemnly, Zack passed the red bandana to Brin, one of the more delicate-looking among us, and one of the swiftest climber/runner. She placed it securely around her neck, nodding in response to Zack's tacit approval. But then Zack did something unexpected, he beckoned us all closer, and habit made sure we obeyed.

Eva, at her commanding officer's side like a good second in command flicked out her military issue knife and handed it hilt first to Zack. He made a quick slash on his right wrist, passed it back to Eva who slit the opposite wrist so that when she joined the two wounds, they were on top of each other, her left wrist over his right. Eva looked over at Brin, and her right hand offered the bloodied knife.

Brin only hesitated for a second, then took Eva's unmarked wrist, made a slash on it –wincing as she imagined the brief pain she caused her sister- and then slicing her own left wrist to place on Eva's second wound. She in turn offered it the next one, and Tinga made the marks. One by one we all cut each other and ourselves until it was my turn and I was the last one. I looked up in slight disbelief as Ben offered me his unscathed arm and the knife that was now completely covered in the blood and scent of my pack.

Curiously, I felt nothing save a weird sense of rightness, and gazing into Ben's eyes, glancing over to see Zack's crystal blue ones regarding me steadily, I took the proffered knife and made the slash on his wrist and mine. I offered it to Zack whose free hand took it gently, and finished making the cut on my other arm. He then reversed the hilt in his hand, flicking it, and sliced his other wrist and gently covered his wounded left over my right. Completing the circle.

The moment he did so I felt a jolt so powerful it nearly took my breath away. There was a pounding in my ears and I could hear the mesmerizing music of blood flowing through veins and arteries. I was aware of my own heartbeat in the way one usually does when they concentrate on themselves, but this time, it was like there was a pulse in my head, and it echoed. I realized with an awed sort of start that the echo was the beat of the others heart, beating in time to mine, and mine to theirs.

Slowly, my breathing slowed down, and I was joined in such a way, as I never had been to anyone before. We had become one mind, one large group mind, eighteen hearts and minds united as one, irrevocably bound by blood and love.

No matter where we go, or how far we are: we will always be together. It was a silent thought and vow shared by all, and then Zack's gentle removal of his wrist off mine was the cue that the moment had passed. The second Zack's skin left mine, I felt the loss, but wait, no…it was still there. If I concentrated on that small part of myself that was my pack, I could still feel them, still feel that echoing heart beat, and I knew that I only had to 'listen to my heart' in order to sense them. I truly would never be alone again.

We were all reluctant to break such a wondrous contact, for we all knew that this would probably be the last hunt for a while to come. But we still had a mission to complete, an objective to gain, and about eighty other transgenics who didn't really care for us out there waiting for us. This was going to be so much fun.

Zack or Eva only had to glance at us, and when Eva locked gazes with me I swear I felt something hit me and pass through; I knew what Zack and Eva wanted me to do, and we never spoke a word or flashed a telltale Manticore signal. I found myself curling my lips into a smile that resembled a snarl or a bearing of fangs, a slight growl starting to vibrate deep in my chest, picked up and echoed by the Pack surrounding me. Manticore wanted to separate us because they thought we were too close? Ha! We'll give them something to want to separate us all right. This Pack was on the hunt.

Ben and I left at the same time, finding us unconsciously paired together, our movements matching and balancing out each other perfectly. Ben was truly the master of the hunt; out of us all he seemed to be more in tune with the predator/prey aspect, he could track anything and everything. I was the mistress of stealth, none could beat me at escape and evade, and I was so silent even other transgenics had a hard time tracking me. I was a favorite to use during recon and Zack was using this to the fullest.

I guess I wasn't as out of tune with my skills as a huntress as I thought, I smirked to myself inwardly. Together, Ben and I were a force to be reckoned with.

We found ourselves partnering up with Zane and Jondy and I couldn't help the feral gleam that came to mind. Zane might not have been on par with Ben as a hunter, but he more than made up for it when it came to fighting. Few in the facility could even match him, and Jondy was very similar to me skill-wise. Ben and I shared a look of such unadulterated animalistic joy that found we were grinning like idiots at one another. We were outnumbered yes, but suddenly, I wasn't worried about my pack. It was the other eighty who didn't yet realize just how deeply they were in trouble. They were good odds.

The battle was fierce and terrible, as eighty transgenics fought their way to keep their prize and to get the honor of beating the top-ranking unit. But they couldn't compare to the uncanny bond and abilities of the small pack. The eighteen descended upon the eighty with all the quiet cunning of death until with roars of such primal rage that would do any Banshee proud, they attacked. The core group didn't know what was going on, it was only found out much later that those on the edges had been quickly and quietly taken care of, and there were more than a few doctors and nurses worried about the stories that they heard from the wounded.

Stories of howls and growls and screeches like they had never heard, transgenics that moved faster and attacked more viciously than any they had ever encountered, of them being everywhere and defending one another, even more so than previous encounters with Unit 2. Of pain and fear and oh! those shrieks and growls that would forever haunt their nightmares.

Trainers Webster and Cam lurched with fear as they heard sounds that they had never heard in their lives come from the woods and they had once again looked at each other, as if wondering whether to stay or flee. Then Unit 2 had come in, by themselves, bathed with blood, but none of it theirs. The look on their faces scared the two professional soldiers to the point they requested never to deal with Unit 2 again.

There had been such a primitive look of triumph and satisfaction that shone even through the blank Manticore mask, and Webster shuddered as he saw that those masks weren't completely blank. One had only to look into their eyes and see that there was something feral and not human peering out at them, even when X5-599 had requested permission to bring the unconscious and wounded Units back.

Lydecker's blood seemed to stop and freeze as he heard the reports come in, and there were deep creases in his forehead as he thought long and hard, looking from his observation tower as Unit 2 finished bringing the last of the bloodied Units in to the emergency medical vehicles awaiting to transport them to the overflowing med bay. Never had they had to take care of so many from a single exercise. The implications of such things alternately made Lydecker proud of what they had accomplished and very, very, disturbed.