He starred at the plastic top of his disposable coffee top for some time, watching the steam rise, dance and disappear into the air.

With a heavy sigh the steam blew out into the world. He did this occasionally, not just the sighing. He'd come to this cafe, sit outside on a table, stare at his drink for hours and then just leave.

The managers must have taken pity on the poor creature, all he ever wore was a horribly ruined denim jacket and t-shirt. The jacket even had two suspicious frays in a diagonal pattern. Around his neck lay a medalleon of sorts. It was that small mark of value which had the store owners assume he was a poor child orphanned by the ongoing wars.

They were right in a way. He was an orphan and he had lost the people important to him through wars, or just through the passage of time.

He wanted nothing to do with this one. All he needed to do was live his life as a spectator. All those years ago he was in the heat of battle, watched someone he cared about killed before his eyes and horribly wounded to the point of near death.

Not pretty memories, certainly not the type he'd like to create anew.

So maybe, just for now, he'd drink his coffee and live as a street rat in a big city once more, hoping and praying that conflicts come to end sooner than later.

"Whats that?"

"Is that smoke?"

"I think one of buildings is on fire."

Murmurings started to scattered across the cafe, nearly half it's occupancy transfixed on a column of smoke coming from deeper in the city amidst the five and six story buildings that dotted the once flourishing town. Suddenly an explosion ripped through the air and the smoke column tripled in size.

"My god... What, what was that?"

"Are the Kydane attacking again?"

"How did they get past the town militia?"

More numerous and cresendoing murmurings, it was getting difficult to ignore them now.

Deeper in the city-

"Fall back! It must be some new kind of magic! Get the civilians to safety!" A large canine in a military uniform barked orders to a small group of mixed races, all in the same greyish fatigues the dog was clad in. Some scurried around grouping the populace up and herding them into large transport trucks, others hurriedly cried for reinforcements from other nearby towns via radio, still others held their ground just beyond a shrinking wall of fire.

Firearm and magic wielder alike stood transfixed on the blaze as it died to a reveal a single creature standing in the middle of a charred and crumbling crater. A voice rumbled out at them over the crackling fire, "This is your own fault." Strange energy seemed to collect around the creature as he uttered two words, "Tansoytat(1) Naxcan(2)".

Again an explosive wave of energy rattled the cafe, this time it was powerful enough to tip cups and rattle glass. Several female patrons covered their mouths with their hands as a small black mushroom cloud appeared over the downtown area.

"What... What's happening?"

"It, It can't be, the Kydane don't have weapons like this!"

"Maybe they're received reinforcements from another planet!"

"My god, what will happen to us?!"

The murmurings were bordering on full panic now.

(1) Tansoytat - A Kydane term for a ambitious fox-like spirit.

(2) Naxcan - Old Kydane for 'Fire'.

"Hey, sis, you see that?"

The childlike voice belonged to a sort of cream-colored feline boy, who looked about nine or ten years old, wearing a blue shirt with brown pants and a pair of dirty sneakers. His eyes, one green and the other blue, were glued to the scene unfolding just beyond the window the rest of the masses in the cafe.

"Sit down, Kenneth. You'll hurt yourself if you fall over in that chair."

The reply came from a white female cat, who looked about twenty years old or so, calmly sipping a cup of tea. Besides a black headtie, she wore a black short-sleeved shirt which cut off at the midriff with dark blue jeans and black boots.

"Besides, I think it's about time we left here."

Kenneth shifted in his seat to look at her. "Oh... okay, Ryn."

Standing to her fill height, she reached into her pocket and dropped some coins on the nearby counter and headed for the doors, with the boy following at her heels.

Ever since she left from Kyzarie with her brother several years ago, she could never shake the feeling that, somehow, she was being followed.

Was it someone she knew from her childhood so long ago? She didn't know.

All she knew was that as she stepped outside of the cafe, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was someone nearby...

OOC: Please, no apologies, this is fascinating, I'll throw in a familiar face if it's acceptable to do so.

IC:

He watched the white feline from the corner of his eye, underneath the ragged brim of his brown fedora. The figure quietly spooned some more soup into his furry mouth from the steaming bowl resting on the cafe bar.

Being a psionic, this trenchcoat-clad stranger with red glowing eyes was on a mission. He was tracking the infamous murderer of a thousand men. Ever since... ever since that time on that backwater planet he had sensed a strange yet familiar energy signature. It was so familiar yet so wildly powerful, this fedora wearing creature was compelled to track it down. Was it him? The Warden he had known and fought with? Or was it something... darker.

So amazing were the account of a thousand murders that his own infamous name, The Bladed Terror, had been lost in the sands of time and the ravages of war. This figure, sipping soup quietly in the cafe, simply went by the name Claw.

ooc:If the other RP dosn't require me any more and the other two are dead; I may join in on this one with a more mundain character. It seems slow moving enough not to need a-post-a-day and I need something to releave stress at the mo.

ooc: it seems NMH is DOA man, and yes this is slow mover. Just for people to post whenever they feel like it.

And Claw, this should be interesting now. I'll post tonight, can't warrant doing it while I'm at work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Suddenly several uniformed troops collected near the front of the cafe. A half dozen fresh troops from the outskirts and a bedraggled bakers dozen survivors from downtown.

"It's... it's one GUY!" One of the bleeding men yelped. A canine humanoid from the fresh troops' jaw dropped in shock, "Y..You're joking right? This is the kinda crap they used to talk about Xira Aramae and Evalc doing. Who the hell..."

"Nuuuh.." Another of the injured let a groan dropping to one knee from his injuries. The dog twitched, "Who the hell is doing this?"

"We've got wounded!"

Christer slung his rifle over his shoulder, jogging over to the congregation beside the cafe. A good handful of them, outweighing the medic to patient ratio. He hadn't gotten a good vantage of what was going on downtown, but he could hear it. He stopped, leaning over a bleeding soldier.

"What's going on, corporal?" Christer asked, rendering the proper customs and courtesies. The Fox-Corporal did outrank him.

"Fantastic fireshow shaping up downtown. Rumor has it it's one guy." Christer had exposed the Fox's leg, tearing open a packet of hemastatic ointment and smeared it on the wound.

"You're fit to fight, Corporal." Christer said, sliding the Fox's rifle back into his paws. The fresh Tiger Medic stood up. His grey fatigues were now begining to swell with sweat. He moved to the next patient, a civilain.

Claw did his best to keep to himself but the cadre of soldiers lining up outside the cafe did more than pique his interest.

"... Xira Aramae... Evalc...,"

Those two names seemed to ring in Claw's skull over all the other ruckus. Those were two names you didn't throw around in earnest. They were the stuff of legends, no one was that powerful anymore... except for this new guy, the guy he had been tracking.

This was bad, this thousand-man murderer was getting better and better at hiding his energy signature, it was as if he was toying with Claw's abilities to sniff out Psionics and Wardens.

If that was true, if this... thing knew Claw was tracking him...

Claw finished his soup and left more than enough money on the counter as he walked across the cafe and out the door, his black cape snaking it's way through the closing door in proper stylistic fashion.

As he rounded the corner he almost knocked over a Tiger Medic tending to the wounded...

Cold eyes examined the gathering troups and survivors from one of the cafe's outside chairs. The occupant still carried a cup of drink which he promptly downed and slammed back down to the table while standing up.

"Ain't my problum" he mumbled in Mobian to himself with an unmistakable Evolian accent. He peaked his head into the cafe full of shattered cups and fallen tables from the fresh blasts "Ta for the drink, keep safe!" he yelled out to the shop assistants who he'd assumed would be hiding under the counter.

He spat a curse under his breath, he hadn't been actively avoiding these conflicts, but he had certainly not wanted to go near them. Turning now he prepared to go back to his hideyhole and gather his possessions to move on.

What he saw scared his little heart half to death.

"...no..."

Claw, the bladed terror, no mistaking those red eyes which he remembers through the foggy cloud of everything which went on back then.

Perhaps he was scared to proceed in fear of being spotted, perhaps he felt exposed still wearing the exact same clothes from hundreds of yeears ago, the burning slash marks of "Trevor's" sword (damn it was hard to tell who was who back then...) still hinting on the denim of his jacket.

Most likely he was being onstructed and wanted to wait until he had clear path. Regardless, Craig Bayfield, the Evolian Squirrel and Rico Underwood's very very short lived apprentice hung back inside the cafe, pressing his back to the wall and listening out for the conversations about to take place outside.

All with one thought in mind "...don't involve me..."

Christer had just stood up from a patient when something ran square into him. Stumbling a bit, trying not to fall on top of anyone laying on the ground, he managed to get his feet back under him. The man who ran into him seem dazed. Didn't he see that there were wounded here?

Oh, Christer thought to himself, This guy's shell shocked.

"Hey, buddy?" Christer said, walking towards him. He took note of the cape. No one in their right mind would be walking around with a cape in this heat. "Hey, easy. You alright? Sit down, have some water." He said, resting his paws on the man's shoulders.

She had only bothered to observe the soldiers and wounded civilians for a brief moment before she headed away from them.

"Wait up!" Kenneth called out. "You gonna leave me behind or what?"

Ryn halted again and turned to face him. "Walk faster, then."

"Jeez, no need to be mean," the boy replied irritably, "do all girls act like you?"

"No, just the ones who've had to wipe your ass when you were a tiny brat."

Kenneth's face turned red with embarrassment. "Don't say that!"

"Then don't start with me." The feline glared right in his eyes, making sure he got the message, then turned away once more and resumed her brisk pace.

Kenneth paused for a moment before he spoke again. "Where are we goin' now, sis? Is it where all that smoke is?"

"Yeah."

"But I heard what they were talking about back there-- that it's just one guy, an' he's super strong."

They'd scattered like rats from a sinking ship. Most likely to regroup and counterattack. His brain processing every possible strategy the Evolian guards could be trying against him. He stood watching the smoke clear for seconds, minutes, until he was sure he was ready for any possible scenario, then he touched the sword sheathed on his belth with a furry hand and furrowed his brow.

Noone was around to seen him nonchalantly wander into the maze of low lying buildings dotting the cityscape. He was somewhat short for his race, Kydane usually exceed six feet but this one was just shy of that height. His statue was muscular and intimidating despite his height, maroon leather overcoat, black flack jacket, fatigues, and boots. The creature was a simple Kydane of the fox species Vulpinoid. Defined vulpine fur markings, piercing emerald eyes, and long auburn hair blowing in the wind turned him into a rather eye catching site. He walked into the city, carrying himself only a deeply proud man would. Somehow making a beeline for a small cafe, as if something told him to move that direction.

Claw looked at the medic with bewilderment.

"There's no time for that, medic, these men aren't out out of danger yet," growled Claw.

Despite Claw's intimidating appearance, Christer continued to treat Claw as if he was going into shock. He handed Claw a canteen.

Claw roughly grabbed Christer's collar, "Listen kid, the thing that did this ain't finished yet, ain't finished by a long sho-"

Claw was cut short, he sensed something familiar. It was another presence, much less refined but certainly Warden in nature. An apprentice perhaps? Claw rubbed the bridge of his furry nose with a thumb and fore finger, maybe he was going crazy.

Sometimes, victims of shell shock would demonstrate violent tendencies. They would consider themselves still in the war zone, creating fascinating hallucinations in normal situations. Although frightening, they tended to not last long.

"The fighting has died down. You're safe now, sir." Christer said, trying to observe Claw's head, looking for any signs of injury to his head. Maybe he got hit by some exploding debris..."We'll protect you. Just have a seat, the hallucinations will pass."

"I'll reserve judgement of that when I see with my own eyes."

When she didn't hear the reply she expected, she halted once more. "Kenneth?"

The boy had suddenly stopped in his tracks, his blue and green eyes fixated on something ahead of her. "S-sis..."

Cautiously following his gaze now, she soon spotted a moving figure ahead of them... There was something about it, something she felt she'd seen before only back in her childhood.

No... can't be...

Though her curiosity begged her to get a closer look, she rushed over to her brother and grabbed his hand. As though snapping out of a trance, he looked up to her, terror etched on his face.

"Come on, this way," Ryn told him. "Run!"

Further this way... What?

The orange furred Fox's heart suddenly fired a volley of deafening beats into his head. All at once the collection of familiar energy that had drawn him here with promises for reuniting with those he'd left behind gave way to feelings of more ancient bonds. He felt his eyes involuntarily twitch as a flood of images from centuries past cascaded into his mind's eye.

Fighting this the man dragged onward toward the center of the seemed to be the proverbial ground zero of these energies. It hadn't been so long ago that he would have felt nothing. He would be able to simply wander without care or worry about his surroundings or the people that made them up. The Kydane sixth sense had a limited range and limited abilities. But this new curse he endured did not have those limitations, every moment he felt the intimidation, anger, awe, and spite of the people around him. Their feelings only feeding his animosity toward these... people.

The cafe was in sight now, the feelings growing stronger, on the verge of overcoming him. But his exterior remained cold and nonchalant.

~~~~~

"We're landing THERE, Rob." The almost demanding voice belonged to a light brown furred rabbit. He was clad in a orangeish trenchcoat and glasses, his other garments didn't seem to merit a second glance. The canine he was arguing with seemed a captain of some sort, possibly of the craft they were currently residing in. Most probably as he seemed reluctant to let the twenty-something hare dictate his flight plan.

"Tobias I know how you feel, but you can't be sure he's down there. We all miss her but even if that man is there what do you think you're going to do? Kill him?" The older and obviously wiser canine stated. The two seemed to be arguing about some kind of a manhunt the younger man was on.

"Damn straight, but not before I have my fun first. For what he did to Lori..." The rabbit started to continue but was cut off by his older peer. The name Lori seemed to enrage the older male, she most have some special meaning.

"And what about Henry? You ever think about anyone but yourself? He's the man's son and killing a father in front of his child REGARDLESS the reason is unforgiveable! I didn't raise you like that!" The dog's voice was becoming loud and barking now. Who the rabbit was after, he seemed to have left a child behind that the denizens of the ship were looking after.

At this a tense glare from the rabbit revealed the existance of actual red colored eyes present behind the glasses on his face. The rabbit snarled lowly, "You did not raise me. My brother di'nt raise me. I raised me, now just land the ship so me and mine can be on our merry."

The dog seethed for a moment then grabbed a small radio nearby spitting out, "Fine! Ain't no problem of mine if ya wanna take little kids to their death!" He crushed the button on the mic so firmly it cracked under the pressure, "Put us down outside on his coordinates. We're getting rid of our 'guests'."

The reply was weak and pleading, as if the rabbit wasn't a guest, more part of their family. "O, ok Rob. Are you sure though? Leaving those kids to..."

"Just do it."

"Right, ten minutes till touchdown, just outside some city on the surface."

"Tobe, regardless this being boneheaded, arrogant, stupid, and a dozen over words that mean the that..."

"Synonyms Robert."

"Whatever. Good luck. And if you abandon those kids..."

"You can kill me yourself."

The two men stood and stared for a moment, then nodded and parted ways toward other sections of the ship.

With no warning, the glass panes on the buildings surrounding the cafe and the casualty collection point began rattling. In the distance, a low tone hum filled the sky. The ground began mildly rumbling, and Christer's radio chirped to life.

"Scout 7, wide transmission. We got a Gray Albatross flying east north east. Setting up nest on outskirts."

Christer looked off to the side, twisting the volume on his reciever, and straining to get better details.

"How many tail feathers?" The Sergeant Major in charge of the infantry platoon assigned to the city's voice was the only familiar voice.

"Negative on visual, Papa bear. Bird's got no feathers."

The approaching vessel was unassigned. No tail code. Whatever it was, it wasn't theirs.

"Check the nest for eggs, Scout 7." The Sergeant Major ordered the Scout team to check if there were any men on the ground where the craft was stopping.

Christer turned back to the crew tending to the wounded. Staff Sergeant Dean had removed his helmet, was scratching his head. His black jaguar fur was matted with sweat, and he was probably shedding. He had a condition.

"Sergeant," Christer said, moving from Claw, his mind on other things now. "Casevac?"

"@#%$ if I know. Command doesn't give me the time of day." He said, reaching into his cargo packet and producing an old soft pack of cheap imported cigarettes. He started slapping the bottom, packing in the tobacco. Christer scratched his eye, brushing off a sleeper, and looking east.

"Hold position, Sergeant?"

"Get me a lighter."

Claw glared, irritated at the medic for brushing him off like a mental patient. The beast looked back towards the lazy columns of black smoke wafting so distantly in the air they looked like giants climbing the sky. His psionic sense could "see" the waves of raw energy bubbling in the distance.

It wouldn't be long now.

There were too many wounded, too many people would try to get in the way. Damn norms, a gun was useless against someone like this. Claw reached for the hilt of his katana as if to make sure it was still there. He drew it easily and quietly from it's sheath. The sun reflected brilliantly off the ancient and mysterious metal. The last foot of the katana's blade was charred black.

Claw could vividly remember why the tip of his cherished sword was black, this was the sword that helped murder Lord Evalc.

Ryn wasn't really surprised to see people start scattering about in panic as she hurried past them and back to the cafe. It was just like every other planet she'd traveled to; one day, everything's fine, the next, an entire city is reduced to ruins one way or another.

In only a moment she'd already arrived back at the cafe with her brother in tow. There were people still inside; not only that, but the soldiers, a medic and a lot of the victims from the earlier attack were still gathered outside.

This didn't bode well; Ryn found herself exactly where she didn't want to be: stuck in the middle of an imminent battle with innocents around.

Kenneth thought he noticed something shine out the corner of his eye. Turning to look, he spotted someone holding a long sword. He'd never seen anything like it before.

They were all so focused on the damage, they didn't seem concerned about him. The fox continued his walk through the growing numbers of people on the streets coming to gawk at the destruction and their city forces in disarray.

He blended into the crowd, making his way toward down the street, until something blocked his way. He could sense the intent of not moving several yards away and stopped himself. It had been over two century's since their eyes had last next. Despite his now long hair and much larger physique there was no doubt who it was now in Claw's mind.

The fox's head rose and two piercing green eyes hit him, it was the same man... But he wasn't anything like the one he'd known. There was a tense aura of killer intent around him that only a seasoned warrior would feel. His pose, though seemingly lax was made to look a such to the untrained eye. But someone formerly known as The Bladed Terror could tell on sight that all the vulpinoid's muscles were ready to strike. His grip on his sword tightened, ready for anything.

Then in an instant, it was gone. The warrior pose, the intent, even his eyes seemed to dull.

The voice was still more commanding than he remembered, but it was far from the growling attack he'd expected. And as if to prove his identity a tell tale smirk crossed his lips as he spoke. "And here I thought you were the one that told me not to raise a weapon unless I intended to use it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Bye Grandpa! Bye guys! We're going to town now!" The sound of an excitedly naive youth squawking rung through the clearing just outside town. A rather junky and bulbous looking aircraft sat perched in the middle of the meadow, the grass under it burned to nothing as a result of it's planetary landing, along with a primary buffer panel falling off.

"Hey Corky COM'ON!" The voice squeaked out again it's owner a small human, jogged out from the ship's metallic landing ramp. His bright red hair seemed to glow in the sunlight, blue eyes full of hope, square rimmed glasses adding a sort of intellectual look to him.

"If his father was human I'd say he's the spitting image of him, 'least from the pictures you showed me." Up on the ramp stood both the canine and the rabbit. The dog had spoken first, the hare looking on at the child as well. "Lets hope the similarity ends there, Rob." Robert, the larger almost mutt looking canine looked surprised by his response firing back a questioning, "And you let him wear those clothes?"

He was refering to a odd looking custom made maroon trenchcoat and black fatigue looking gear that the boy was wearing.

"He looks like a walking contradiction, Tobe. Nerdy little kid wearing that creepy Warden getup? Not to mention I thought you and his dad didn't get alone." The dog continued rather callously.

"Doesn't matter, I told him I'd get him back to his dad and I aim to do that soon as we take care of things here." The rabbit growled out, "He wants to wear that he can, he doesn't know what it means. I'm only here for one thing."

"WE are only here for one thing." Stated another voice less naive than the human but equally youthful. What walked out from behind the two men was something out of a comic or sci-fi magazine. It looked like a mutated Kydane canoid. No fur or animal like muzzle, yet a obviously canine black nose and large floppy ears like a young puppy. The creatures short stature and high pitched voice marked it a child. Short hair seemed to indicate it was male, and he looked rather irritated. "Don't forget it's MY revenge Toby. You're just here to take care of Sparky." He stated bluntly jabbing a grubby tanned finger at the red headed human.

He stormed past the two and started to berate the other child for acting so much, well, like a child as the two men sighed in unison. "And that one ACTS like his dad." Robert muttered quietly, as if scared he'd be heard. Toby nodded, "You don't know what he's been through. His sister was the tip of the iceberg. We should get moving, you picked up something spotting us right?"

"Yeah, though thats a very layman term for it, what gives? You normally talk over everyone's head about... techie stuff" The dog said looking oddly at the hare. Tobias narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, "The less people here know about me the better. We better get moving, tell the others bye for us."

Robert looked alarmed barking out, "You're going NOW?! You've been on this ship for damn near a year and you're just going to leave? What about Jen?! And Brent?! They'd wanna say bye to the kids at LEAST! You're just gonna... no, no way. You go take out whatever guy you're going to kill and come back. You are not going to leave without a proper party."

Toby stopped halfway down the ramp and closed his eyes, "Whatever, just make sure you take off before someone blows up this hunk of junk."

"YAY! PARTY!" The red haired Sparky squealed out as oblivious as ever.

"@#%$ alcoholics." The hybrid boy growled pulling the younger human along by his arm.

"Later." Tobias stated coldly following his charges toward the city.

Robert sighed and shook his head, "You guys would be a happy group if it wasn't for reality. Revenge isn't going to bring back anyone. Lori wouldn't have wanted this..."

OOC: Name Dropping abounds. Who the hell are they talking about? Find out next time on Dragon Ball *shot*

The blasts were getting closer. The last of the terrified customers were scrambling through the door into the street, her colleagues now fleeing the oncoming devastation via the back door. Unable to risk waiting any longer to see what exactly was happening, the Caf assistant broke from her cover behind the counter and, with surprising grace for a waitress, dove through the open doors that led too the kitchen. With subtle determination, the apron clad woman ran swiftly toward the now empty office at the far left corner of the building. Colleagues and chefs cast worried or confused glances at the raccoon as they ran past her on their way to the door; surely she was going the wrong way.?

The office loomed as another explosion rocked the foundations of the old building, gas mains giving out after the trauma of whatever attack the city was sustaining. With a single swift yet quiet motion the waitress closed the door and turned the key so the lock ran home, her eyes turning to the desk upon which was attached a rather old battered looking consol. Walking around the side of the cheep mock-pine furnishing the slender, well built raccoon scrutinised interface port on the back of the device, dextrous fingers exploring the various inputs while her black and dusty-brown ringed tail remaining limp in a relaxed genteel sway. The equipment was far outdated and slow, but it would suffice for her needs.

Taking a measured step back, the waitress dabbed a button on the front of the monitor to start the aging machine and straightened up to placed a hand beneath her apron, rummaging around in her pockets for a moment before retrieving a long slender optical cable. Open communication was out of the question, and this way at least she would kill two birds with one stone. As the operating system blinked into life, she reached around and attached the cable to its relevant com-port. Gently she pulled back her sleek brown hair with one hand and with the other brought the opposite end of the cable to the back of her neck, where a diamond shaped hole had clicked open upon a silent command, ready to receive its conduit to the cybernetic world.

There was a light click, and the womans eyes glazed over.

<Captain,> she spoke silently <this is Lieutenant Ashanny. We have a problem.>

There was a moment or two of silence before the captains voice pricked up in her mind. The man spoke with the kind of voice that instantly portrayed the dashing, no-messing-around scoundrel and wore an honourable air despite his past transgressions.

<We noticed. It looks as though well have to cut our little vacation short. Sounds like youre pretty close to the action, what is your situation?>

<Unstable but contained. Im currently monitoring military radio frequencies. It seems theyre meeting heavy resistance, but its concentrated in a very small area moving south east through the city. Whats more reports are coming through of there being only one aggressor. Nothing alive has that kind of firepower, bar the reaper.>

The captain growled in frustrated while duplicate images and scraps of data appeared on both his and the Lts screens as Nicola pulled them from cyberspace.

<If it is him then we really need to get out of here soon, rather then bunkering down until theres a gap in the siege..>

Still unmoving Nicola sent her reply <Recall everyone. Ill contact Rayne and Sash, well be at the ship in less then two hours.>

<Great,> grumbled her commander as he studied the data scraps <but theres just one hitch. We cant dust off for more then twelve.>

What. The Raccoon said aloud in strong level tone that conveyed more then a suggestion of menace.

<Elmo decided that with everyone gone for a few months hed have time to do that major overhaul on the engines hes been yapping about. The starboard burner is back in one piece but its going to take him another twelve hours minimum for him to get the other in working order, even with Weir helping.>

Niki didnt reply.

<Look, with the ETA for dust off so long calling back the troops isnt an option. Too much activity around the ship will make our location and light us up like a sun-hammock, so for now its best if you lay low until tomorrow. Contact the kids and send them too us, theyre small enough to go unnoticed and we can keep them safe. In the meantime get out of that things path and lay low till 0700. That should give those two the time they need to fix the engine and for me to call everyone back. We dust off at 1200 tomorrow afternoon. You know the drill.>

<Affirmative. Move south, lay low till 0700, dust off at 1200> she recited, unconsciously setting her motivator for the latter time on countdown mode. She could practically sense the captains nod of approval.

< Keep safe Niki, see you at around 1100 tomorrow.>

--

A shrill beeping noise woke Sashienah from her music induced nap on the sofa. The genteel blue glow that filled the room faded at her command to the window filters and, pulling the buds from her ears the source of her irritation was revealed as the telecom on the far wall; it must have been ringing for some time to gotten so loud. With a soft sigh of irritation the teenager weighed her responsibility against her unwillingness to move. It was Sods-Law that theyd hang up the minuet she left the snug bevel shed warn into the couch over the past several weeks, but if it was important her mother would gilt trip her about it for days. After several more harsh tones for attention responsibility won out, and she kicked her legs over the side of the plush seating and stretched out her still groggy limbs, taking note that her jeans were still on the floor where she had left them.

Sash had the undeniable look of her mother, though far lighter in build. Tall and reasonably well proportioned with a flexible curvature that had only come into being in resent years. The one largely noticeable difference was her distinctively lighter fur colour, well kept and mousy-brown in comparison to her mothers dark near-grey coat. Sash was the kind of girl who, while not seeing her appearance as essential, would still place it above fresh natural air in her daily routine. The shore leave had been her one chance in a long time to finally express this and hone her teenage sensibilities. That is to say, when youve spent your whole life cruising around the vast emptiness of space having to be ready to act every moment in case of a pirate attack or a plasma leak, you dont really get the chance to test just how lazy one could be when faced with the prospect of no true responsibilities bar the phone and her brother.

The unknown caller still had not given up, and so with an air of frustrated defeat the young teen stood up and wandered lazily over to the phone, grumbling something along the lines of Im coming Im coming already.

Grabbing at the phone, the girl lifted the hand set to her ear, groggily straightening her shirt as she mumbled down the line lo? Whozit?

Sashienah Ashanny, Came Niki's level tone through the ear piece the Phone has been ringing for more then four minuets.

Sashs hart skipped a beat at her mothers voice, she was most certainty awake now! Mom! Oh, I-erm, I was asleep with my music on and-

It doesnt matter, Niki cut in Turn on the Screen.

Baffled for a moment Sash stumbled to her senses and looked around for the remote, finding laying on the table.

Which channel? She asked, pressing the power button.

It doesnt matter

The teenager soon saw why. Already reporters had flocked to the scene, shots of the devastation that had wracked most of downtown were coming through and the presenters were trying to keep up with the information flooding from the boarders of the combat zone.

Get your brother, Niki said with undue calm pack the essentials and head straight for the ship. The captain is waiting for you.

Sash stammered for a moment as her brain fully grasped the situation shed been presented with. The vacation had been nice but it had dulled her normally fast train of thought.

Wait! What about you! Arent you coming for us?

Ill meet you at the landing site. Theres about three miles of ruined city lying between us though, so for now youll have to manage on your own. Avoid contact with any combat units, take the outskirt rout if you have too. What ever is going on this isnt our fight, so get out as quickly as you can. Do you understand?

There was a drawn out pause as the young girls mind rallied itself back into survival mode, common sense taking the helm of her body. Yes, I-I understand. Ill see you at the dust off point.

Good girl. Now go fetch your brother and get going.

The line went dead. Sash stood there for several seconds holding the lifeless phone, soaking up the situation and assessing options. Hardwired, thats what Elmo called it. Her mother was the same only more so, a true mercenary at hart. Maybe it ran in the family or something, but instinct and common sense drove her to action, running to the bedrooms and grabbing the two ready packed rucksacks from the top shelf of the wardrobe. Darting through to her own room the girl wildly grabbed those few essential things she had unpacked, stuffing them violently into the sack and then digging down into depths to retrieve the long metallic object from its hiding place. Pulling it from the bag, she pulled out the energy clip and checked the capacity, before placing both on the bed. Now for the other one but first, pants.

--
This was a very strange place indeed, the smoke drifted by and through him like whisps of ghostly vapour. All around him he could hear buildings burning, see the outlines of people running for their lives. And there in the distance, a figure was approaching, dull and unexpressed at first, but becoming more vivid and real with every step. Suddenly the silhouettes coat burst into flames, white hot fire cascading down his body and igniting the ground beneath the strangers feat. The boy was startled, he wanted to run. But he couldnt move, part of him wanted to stay, to hold him back until the last second. The figure was clearer now, more real and dense, but still without features. Then it seemed to see him, and the boy felt himself catapulted forwards, drawn right up face to face with the phantom, dawn into those deep piercing emerald eyes.
Rayne. It said in a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
Wake up Rayne. Wake up right now.
The boy stammered for words, but couldnt speak, his mouth was gone, replaced by flat smooth fur. He couldnt move -
--

And that was when Sash dropped the heavy rucksack onto his chest.
WAKE THE HELL UP YOU BRAINDEAD FUZZELIGHT!

The young boy groaned and turned over in groggy agony. Whydya do tha? He wheezed.

He opened his eyes a crack, his sight catching first the sack and then the look on his sisters face. This told him all he needed, and he was awake in moments, nightmare forgotten in a blinking instant.

Weve got to go, said the newly pant-clad girl Get your damn shirt on and grab what you need! We leave in five minuets!

Whats going on? The boy shouted after his sister as she belted back down the corridor of the rented flat and skittered into her own room.

The city is under attack. Came the yelled but relatively calm reply Mum called, she wants us to head back to the ship right now. Steves getting it underway as we speek!

That did it, he was on his feat and boy was he moving. Younger then his sister, but still just about in his teens, the boy had what was best described as the look of perpetual shabbiness about him. It was as though some mystic force kept his fur from ever taking one uniform direction on his body, tufts of it erupted from patted down streaks and while not being poorly dressed the boy looked as though hed just run a marathon on a bad fur day. His eyes were crisp and bore the same striking deep blue irises as both his sister and mother, and his fur colouration resembled more closely that of his mother, though his hair was pitted with streaks of white patterning, the source of which had never been located on either family tree.
He probably missed about a dozen keepsakes that hed intended to take with him, but he got all the important stuff.
Within five minuets they were both ready. They removed everything that could be linked to them, locked the room, and set off down the corridor toward the elevator and lobby. Each carrying bag full of clothes, food, currency, a single sidearm and (in Raynes case) numerous bits of entertaining novelties hed picked up at markets, the siblings barrelled out into the street, where it was clear the commotion was spreading.

Half way down the street, Rayne slowed and looked toward the pillars of rising smoke.
What about the Lieutenant? He asked blandly, The orrogen of that smoke is within the same district as her cafe..."

She said shell meet us there, and if you dont keep up gods help me I will leave you behind!

"Check the nest for eggs, Scout 7."

The sky was beginning to fade from blue to orange. Grass blades swayed in the silent breeze skirting across the field outside the city. The sun's beams filtered through scattered tree tops, spraying shadows across the meadow's floor. The foliage was dense, the ground was damp, and there were no sounds of cracking leaves. It was the perfect camouflage.

Scout 7 was a two man team. After '@#%$ got real' in the city, the team had fast roped on the outskirts to lay a cover for the infantry platoon dealing with the crisis in the city. They had been roaming the countryside for hours, keeping close to the tree line, and making sure they were unseen.

They weren't called "The Ghosts" for nothing. Although not exactly a Special Forces team, Scout 7 was known for moving into areas, getting the job done, and moving out without ever being seen. Chance in part that their uniforms were digital and adapted to the surroundings, and the fact that the team lived and breathed the outdoors, when they didn't want to be seen, they were not seen.

Corporal Palmer had point. He was hunched over, the raccoon moving swiftly between the trees, keeping close to the heavy bushes and shrubs as to obscure himself. His rifle was slung, and covered with a camouflage tarp, the same digital appliance his uniform was made out of. Behind him, Corporal Jag moved in his exact same footsteps. His rifle was steady, pointed at the ground. The fox's weapon was a flat olive drab, reflecting no light. Although not as camouflaged as the rest of their gear, from a distance, it was nearly impossible to see.

The team brushed through to the end of the tree line. Immediately, Palmer threw off the tarp covering his rifle, dropping into a prone position. Jag was swift to follow, diving beside him, and removing a pair of binoculars from a side pouch. Palmer's hand silently removed a cap covering his rifle's scope, as Jag surveyed the scene.

"Talk to me, sweetheart." Palmer joked, pulling the rifle stock to his shoulder, putting a stick of gum into his mouth. Jag lay silent, ignoring the quip.

"Three," Jag finally replied, adjusting himself calmly. "A hop-hop, a pink skin, and a..." He stopped, pulling away from the binoculars, rubbing his eyes. After a few casual blinks, he returned to the bifocals. "Looks like a skinned dog."

"Mmm," Palmer replied. "Windage?"

"Two ticks."

"Distance?"

"4 ticks."

"Got it."

Jag had palmed his radio, putting it up to his mouth.

"Papa bear, this is Scout 7. Three eggs in the basket. No heat. Albatross is still earthbound, looks like she needs a bath."

"Hold your dicks, boys." Sergeant Major replied. They were to hold fire. "Let me know what they're doing."

OOC: FILLER post. Some background stuff.

"Hey, Henry... Hold up." Toby said bluntly, accelerating his pace to get even with the youth. The creature did indeed look like a tanned dog without a muzzle or body fur, and he didn't look happy. Now more sullen than angry.

"Going in here half cocked bent on revenge is not going to help any. I'm not even sure killing him is the best thing, even if it is you shouldn't be the one to do it. No offense but you're a kid, and you don't need that on your conscious."

The boy, now known to be named Henry, seemed to tense a little, "Tobe, that man did unspeakable things to my sister, till she died. Rob told me about you and her, you can't tell me you don't want him dead. I don't wanna think about what he did to mom. That bastard has taken everything from me, Toby. He doesn't deserve to live, if we let him." He trailed off folding his arms over his chest.

The older rabbit seemed to get tense suddenly, "Corky, are you trying to tell me something. What did he do to you?" The man nudge closer as if he was going to put his arm around the boy.

"Nothing!" Henry snarled back through tear blurred eyes, then muttered lowly, "Yet."

Toby backed off and nodded, "Whatever you're afraid of, don't be. Even if you can't fight him off, I still have the trump card."

Henry nodded looking down, "Yeah, I know. Hearing you say it sounds cooler though, heh."

The human seemed to be wandering further from his two companions, closer to the watching bushes, giving them a an even better view of the small child's strange attire as he held a stick he'd found firmly in his hands making clumsy attempts to mimic what looked like a comic book swordsmanship display.

Back at the cafe, a Private had rolled off his side. His leg was splinted, a femur fracture that had almost been left behind downtown. He groaned, his head spinning from the heavy dose of morphine he had been fed. He ran his hand through his mouse-whiskers, and blinked his eyes. He had been laid a good ways away from the rest of the casualties. The standing infantry were enjoying a few cups of coffee out front. Damn, he thought to himself, sitting up, I could use a cup and a cigarette right now.

He dragged his back against a wall, leaning against his arm and positioning himself upright. Exhausted from the tedious labor, he slumped down some, and stared straight ahead.

And his jaw dropped.

Maroon jacket, black fatigues. The one man army that destroyed the Alpha block guards. The same man who sent that Private sprawling through the air, into a column, breaking his femur like a spent toothpick.

He was standing, casually, mere feet in front of him. The private pulled himself to his feet, limping as fast as he could. The morphine failed him, but he pushed through.

"It's....IT'S HIM! THAT'S THE GUY! THE MAROON JACKET!!!" He screamed flailing his arms around. The infantry crew looked over, seeing the Private trotting towards them. Another person still laying on the ground rolled over to get a better look at what the Private was pointing at.

"Oh my....YES! IT'S HIM!" Someone else said, panicking now.

----~~>

Christer zipped his fly. He had taken a quick vacation from the casevac to empty out the contents of his canteen onto the wall of some brick building in some alleyway not far from the Cafe. He rifle lay against the wall. In the distance, he heard screaming and shouting.

"Jeeze, just give me FIVE MINUTES." He murmured, slumping against the wall adjacent to his makeshift latrine. He removed a pack of cigarettes, lighting up his very last one. "Just....five....minutes."

----~~>

"Papa bear, we have visual."

Sergeant Major Brick was far away from the war zone. Sitting comfortably in orbit, the overweight Non Commissioned Officer was reclining in the command center high above the ground. In front of him, young enlisted kids ran about, analyzing intelligence being gathered all across the planet. Although the recent "One Man Army" situation on the surface was priority, various conflicts were being addressed all at the same time. Not far from the scenario, an unregistered intergalactic ship landed. Although not entirely a threat, he had a Scout team looking after it.

"Go ahead, Ground Team." Sergeant Brick said, enjoying himself a glazed donut. A few crumbs rolled down his chubby chin and into his shirt. Disgruntled, he reached in, trying to get every last bite.

"Older Fox. Maroon Jacket, Black Fatigues, black boots. He's only steps away from the casevac. We haven't engaged yet, but we're sending an infantry unit to flank his rear. Orders?" A panicking Sergeant on the ground.

"These tykes, they couldn't handle a traffick stop." The Sergeant Major said to a passing, young female cadet. She smiled. The Sergeant Major smiled back, knowing deep down she wanted him. "When the flanking team moves into position, take him out." He said over the communicator.

-------~~>

"Did you hear that?" Palmer said, looking through his scope. Jag was looking through his binoculars, obviously distracted.

"They found the guy, right? He's toast." Jag replied, scanning the older Rabbit and Skinned Mutt having an interchange. "I wonder what they're talking about."

"Red jacket, black fatigues. Sound familiar?" Palmer asked, leaving his scope and looking at Jag.

"Oh...@#%$." Jag turned his vision to the over lander. He was swinging a stick around, practicing some sort of martial art.

"Get on the horn, Jag. I think we got another one of these 'one man armies.'"

Jag moved swift. His hand was shaking now. 100 meters away stood quite possibly something more destructive than an atomic blast...and compressed in the body of a child. What a deadly combination...no one would see him coming.

"Papa bear, this is Scout 7. We've got a target matching the same description as the one posted previously. Red jacket, black fatigues, moving towards city. Could be reinforcements." Jag maintained his professionalism, but he was obviously nervous.

There was a pause.

"Exact same description, huh?"

"Sir, he's an over lander, a kid...but it's too damn much of a coincidence. U-F-O land, attack on the city, and the kid is dressed in the exact same manner as our previous target."

Another pause.

"Scout 7, you are weapons free." The order came in. Jag rolled back on his belly, getting the over lander child in his vision. Palmer propped the stock against his shoulder, his index finger slipping the safety off of his rifle. 100 meters. Can't miss from this distance. Palmer brought the sights down onto the kids neck, lining up on his throat. If the shot hit, he'd blow through and possibly break the cervical spine. He loved how the head bent on that perfect shot.

A few moments passed, and the silence was broken, as Jag whispered.

"Fire, fire, fire."

Palmer squeezed the trigger.

*BANG*

The sound echoed through the meadow. Toby and Henry both jerked toward the origin, the rabbits ears straight up.

"WHAT THE HELL?! BROTHER!" The hybrid shrieked out watching the innocent child fall to the ground.

Tobias down to the ground, grabbing his wrist for a moment, than grabbing a hand gun out of his pocket. Dammit, my guard was down, it wasn't even paying attention to them. He cursed and fired into the bushes.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SEE THEM! YOU'RE THE @#%$ KYDANE, WHERE'S YOUR SIXTH SENSE!" The hybrid screamed hysterically still standing wide open.

"Shut up and go get your brother. Looks like this planet is more barbaric than I thought. Must be Evolian bastards to shoot at a kid... Henry? WAIT!"

The boy was already charging at the bush Tobias was shooting at. He stopped his supression fire watching the hybrid shoot away on all fours. He wasn't heading for Sparky's downed form. But for the bushes where his attackers were hiding.

"Scout 7, pack it up and MOVE OUT!!!" The Sergeant Major yelled. Things were getting hot...that was the right call. How the hell did they see the snipers? No one ever saw the ghosts...This was bad.

-~~>

Palmer had vaulted up, running deeper into the wood. Jag was right behind him, moving backwards, firing rounds out of his assault rifle. The shot hit, all right. But what was unexpected was the fact that they zeroed right onto them. They had perfect camouflage! They were 100 meters away! And still, in a matter of moments, the bush they lay covered, concealed in was under small arms fire. Palmer was quite a distance ahead, and was on his own radio.

"Papa bear, @#%$'s real down here. We need an evac! These punks aren't normal! They ain't playin'!" He shouted into the com, rushing through the woods. Jag, still behind, popped a smoke grenade and tosses it into the bush, hopefully obscuring their escape.

"Scout 7, I've got dustoff inbound. 500 meters, crest of the hill. ETA 5 minutes. Get your ass over there!" The Sergeant Major was getting riled up.

"Roger!" Palmer yelled, pushing his legs to pump faster. Jag caught up, not weighed down by the sniper rifle his teammate carried, and they hurried deeper into the wood, their active camouflage changing into a tree bark design.

At least one of the shots hit, the smoke was choking, and the feral child fell in a heap just inside a large cluster of trees.

Toby growled audibly, wondering what the hell was going on and why they picked little Sparky to try to murder and not him. Something started to boil in him.

He stood up and wandered over to the boy's fallen form. "Get up, Sparky."

A moment passed.

"Bu... But they broke my sword." A small almost pathetic voice responded.

He was ok, Toby knew it, this was Rico's son, son of a man gifted with the Art and a woman gifted with a keen grasp of the psionic. The child of Rico and Jen was no ordinary youngster. But the site of these people shooting at an innocent child over a target like him had his blood heated. But seeing the pouting expression on his young charge's face the boil reduced to a slow simmer, although he now had a goal in the darkest recesses of his mind. A very dangerous thing for a man like Tobias to have.

"Corky's either in trouble or in a LOT of trouble if he's killed those men." Tobias stated firmly offering a hand to the boy, "Lets go get him before he does something stupid." The boy suddenly stopped pouting and chirped up happily grabbing the rabbit's hand, "Ok! He's always in trouble. Carry me!" The rabbit rolled his eyes, "No. Those bad guys might be around still."

A few minutes later they spotted him, propped up against a tree rubbing his eyes. Tobias smirked and started walked toward him, then broke into a dead run seeing his pant leg torn and blood soaking into it.

"Corky! Corky!" He yelped stopping by the boy.

"I'm fine. They ran away, winged me though." The boy rattled off in a overly calm manner. He pulled his hands down and blinked, his hazel eyes waterlogged and puffy from the smoke. "I can't f-fricking see though."

Toby gritted his teeth, "The bullet hole in your leg is a worse concern."

The younger boy had wandered up by then, examined the situation, and was ready to assess. "He'll be find by tomorrow though, duh stupid. And he's got poofy eyes, haha!"

Henry kept his eyes shut but scowled, "I hate little kids."

Tobias shook his head, "Dammit, we need to get this bandaged. It gets infected there's going to be trouble." He didn't even seem to think while removing his ratted up trenchcoat and using it to try to stop the bleeding enough to get to a some kind of doctor or medic.

A few moments later he had the hybrid in his arms and was walking toward town, Sparky marching in front like some kind of pale, shrimpy drill instructor.

"Oh, no, there it is!"

"We're all gonna die!"

As more and more heads turned to the source of the attacks downtown, the tension once again elevated to full blown panic, and the townspeople began helplessly scattering in all directions like flies.

Soldiers, either able-bodied or still suffering from minor injuries, pitifully attempted to reinstate order and guide them in one set path away from the area.

Even on the sidelines, Kenneth remained almost transfixed at the sight of that long sword. It looked almost like he imagined it would be, having heard tales of the heroes who stood up to some overpowered being while drifting from world to world with his elder sister. It gave him a sense of hope in this time of war.

Happy memories were few and far inbetween when crossing the galaxy. Every new world he saw only welcomed him and Ryn with cold stares because of what he was. After some major catastrophe, the blame always fell on him and his "kind".

It wasn't like he'd never been treated that way before, anyway.

___

OOC: A little bit of backstory here for Kenny and Ryn... I think. ><

Claw's katana shot out to the side of his body, the edge of the blade mere millimeters from the Private who had so foolishly gotten too close.

"Stand down runt, you better tell someone important and tell someone important real fast to get your little squad to stand down unless you want even more casualties," barked Claw viciously.

A wave of invisible energy seemed to emanate from Claw for a split second as he threatened the wounded private.

Claw had never taken his eyes off the specter that stood before him.

"I saw you die... what the hell's goin' on?" growled Claw.

He had been tracking this... this warden for weeks and now suddenly he was staring at an old comrade's familiar, emerald green eyes.

"Until I get some answers from you, I've every intention of using my weapon; if you're who I think you are you'll know what I'm capable of," sneered Claw at the haunting face of times past.

Claw was bluffing the best he could, if this one man army was truly responsible for the destruction, no amount of expert swordsmanship would help him now.

The buzz of radio traffic filtered through her semi-detached mind, sorted by priority and locality before being filed so that the spurious waitress soon had a mind map of all the local forces and reported sightings. She couldnt stay connected much longer, prolonging her dive left her open to being spotted and it would only take a coms techie a cursory glance to notice her with one ear pressed to their back door. But with every second she remained in contact with the defence communications grid gave her vital information on strategy and troop movement, all of which gave her a better chance of avoiding detection when the time came to move out.

--

We should be taking a more southerly rout. The younger of the two siblings said clearly, eyes tracing the skyline apparently watching for some kind of ambush the trees on the outskirts would provide more adequate cover.

Sash scoffed quietly, first her only vacation in the last twelve years had been cut short and now she had to drag the freak across town and back to the ship on her own.
This is quicker though, She reiterated for what felt like the fifth time no ones looking for us and I am not trekking across country in flip-flops.

"Perhapse you should have changed them before we departed?" Rayne replyed with a bland questioning tone.

"No time, I couldn't find anything else. I'll grab some from a shop before we hit the hills on the other side of town. If its as bad as Mum says then everyone should be looting by then."

OOC: Thought I'd add some filler, mainly cuz' I'm bored.

IC:

Damn

Where the hell was he this time?

The last thing he could remember was...

That's right... Evalc... Felusia... the energy.

That terrible psionic energy, the latent ability that any sentient being can tap into given enough discipline and a decent teacher.

Claw, he had so many other names but this had been the one he had stuck with for the last few decades. He tried to open his eyes but realized they were already open. He tried to wake up but realized he was as awake as he was going to get. He felt like he was wearing six layers of heavy wet denim. trying to move his arm required considerable effort and was even a little painful.

Muscle Atrophy? No, there was something more.

His head felt two sizes too big for his skull and his neck felt like a flimsy plastic straw with an orange balanced on top of it.

Drugs... and lots of them.

He couldn't see further than a few feet in front of him, everything was watery with a dark green tint. How ironic, the last thing he remembered seeing was that greenish psionic aura that Evalc always emitted.

In the distance he could make out moving, ghostly figures. Was he dreaming? No, no he was awake... he just knew he was awake the same way anybody knows they're awake; gut feelings.

No one has a gut feeling in the dream world, and Claw's gut was telling him he was in trouble.

Claw tried to take a deep breath but found even his pectoral muscles were like two heavy rocks binding his torso tightly. His lungs burned.

Damn artificial air.

Ok Claw, think, what's the last thing I remember, what's the very last thing I can remember!

Claw closed his eyes, his eyelids were getting heavy anyway and none of those ghostly white figures just beyond his short field of vision seemed to have noticed he had regained consciousness.

He thought back. Man his head hurt but he ignored the dull ache. He was on a backwater planet called Felusia, it was where Evalc had planned to crush a resistance there that refused to give in to his political intrigues. Claw was there with several other people on top of a large building. There was an opportunity for attack! Claw and his comrades rushed Evalc. Claw readied his katana and thrust it into Evalc's chest.

Evalc's death cry!

Evalc wasn't going to die with a whimper. Claw remembered himself bracing for the inevitable.

Psionics gather and manipulate ambient and life energy from the very fabric of space itself. Evalc was a master at this and gathered tremendous amounts of it. He could move and manipulate tremendous, unheard of amounts of raw energy, and when Claw and the others had dealt Evalc his death blow, all that pent up energy was violently released. And knowing Evalc, he used his remaining energy to try to take as many of his killers as he could with him.

That huge wave of energy hitting him, so powerful, so utterly overwhelming.

Claw must've blacked-out.

Now another question floated to the top of his groggy mind, just how long had he been out?

The ghostly figures in the distance had noticed he was awake now. Claw had a bad feeling about this. He hadn't felt this weak and helpless in a long time. A dull burning sting rushed through his wrists.

More drugs... they were pumping him with more drugs.

As he began to loose consciousness once again, Claw could still sense at least one thing.

They feared him.

OOC: Apologies. It was half typed at work, then I babysat my cousin all weekend, then phoenix wright (damn that game), I'm back now. >.>;

~~~~~

The fox seemed disinterested in Claw and more angry that his cover had been blown, staring blankly first at the troops converging, then at the sky, squinting at the fading sun.

"I'd intended on finishing off these disgusting pawns after a quick lunch. *sigh* It looks like I was too careless and left one conscious, I guess I should blame age for that." He half-laughed, smirked, shrugged and shook his head. "But you don't have that problem do you, Claw? No, an immortal doesn't need to worry about aging."

"It's funny, the magus stone experiments that is. They were supposed to freeze a body in time, all aging halted, forever. *ha* Seems thats just another empty claim of Kane's, just like being Kenji." He shook his head with an amused look on his face, "I really was a misguided, corrupted, naive, innane, youth. Why I didn't listen to my father I'll never know. I destroyed lives, even those close to me weren't safe. My family and friends, I ruined them all, because I let others influence my thoughts. I broke the first ideal of being a Warden, my old friend."

He finally looked at Claw, "Rico Underwood allowed his sword to become the pawn of nefarious men and he and all those around him have suffered horribly for it."

His guard dropped for a split second. He'd already thought that is was him. But to hear him casually announce it? "So it IS you. But HOW."

He paused, his amused smirk transforming into an cold condescending stare, lids half open. "I'm sorry, you asked a question. I kind of rambled off there didn't I. Oh well, I never died, apparently noone did, of importance anyway. You'd probably be the only one not to notice but that boy you pulled away from his brother's corpse did not act, think, move, or even resemble Tobias in an fashion other than appearance."

Claw didn't seem to budge from his stance ready to strike the moment the Warden made a move.

"Yes, well, I assume it's been you killing the few remaining Warden and I do thank you for that, even though I'm retaining credit. Regardless, you are aware of the ability for full blooded Kydane to force their bodies into metamorphosis to resemble any living thing they've been in close contact with."

Claw suddenly put the pieces together, Tobias leaving so suddenly, noone really objecting, it suddenly all fit. He growled out simply, "Are you saying..."

Rico nodded, the same cold calculating stare on his face, "To defeat that horrible woman we devised quickly that we had to use that most dangerous ability of shape shifting to become each other. Tobias was stall her while I stuck the fatal blow."

"You underestimated her."

"Yes."

"You let Toby die?"

"..." Rico paused and stared for a moment before replying, "No."

"What?!" Claw's guard dropped again faltering a moment in confusion. He still remembered leaving the fox's corpse laying there, dead. If that was indeed little Tobias then this creature standing before him left his adolescent brother die just to save himself.

Rico's faced remained unchanged, even as more troops gathered, still held at bay my the fear of Claw's threats. "I won't trouble you with explaining 'that' Kydane ability, suffice to say I did not fully understand it myself. When we checked for vital signs... We weren't even near his heart or neck."

Claw looked at a loss, still maintaining his guard but his mind was racing with all this new information.

"That troublesome brother of mine is not only still alive, but he was a thorn in my side not all that long ago. But the only question you need to ask yourself now is one simple decision. Which is more important to you, saving the people in that cafe? Or killing me." A sneer suddenly broke the iron stare as the foxes eyes suddenly turned feral.

"Because I'm not going to stop till they're avenged!" The last sentence a barking shout Claw felt a surge of power from the fox that seemed to manifest in the world looking like fire.

Before the Bladed Terror could move from defense to offense Rico switched his target and an small explosion of fire seemed to appear from nowhere, sending several troops to the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How much longer to I have to be embarrassed like this?" The youth in Toby's arms complained, folding his arms and pouting.

"HAHA! Henry's a BABY!" The other boy mocked bouncing around still in the lead.

"I'll show you who the baby is when I get down from here, DORK!" Henry yelped out squirming.

"KNOCK IT OFF! What part of 'don't stand out' DON'T you understand! Damn." The rabbit snarled loudly as the moved further into town.

"He started it!"

"Nuh UH! He did!"

Tobias sighed righ as the rumbling from the attack hit them. He stopped and blinked. The human boy looked around wide-eyed, "Was that an earthquake?!"

"No... but it sounds like there's still left over fighting going on here. Probably some hicks that still haven't been told the war is over. Or don't believe it." He narrowed his eyes and shook his head, "Whatever, makes it easier for us, more believable people are attacking kids this way. If we tell them the other side did this they'll jump to help and use it to rally support. We can disappear in the mess that follows."

"That MY uncle! Always thinking ahead!" The human squeaked out.

Henry snorted and quieted down, as if the other boy's comment hit a tender spot.

The earth shook, jostling the Tiger's eyes open. An unwelcoming wakeup call, the medic had been active for almost 24 hours now. He yearned to be back in garrison, on his hard bunk, in a room crammed with 40 other troops. Even the sour stench of old socks seemed more welcoming than the war zone he was swimming in.

He rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform, and slung his rifle. Pins and needles shot through his right leg, and he groaned, rubbing it as he tried standing up.

Must've slept on it wrong, he thought to himself. It was quiet now, the only sound a whistling wind flowing between the sky scrapers. Well, if they need me, they can call me on the radio...

Christer needed some time to himself, as it had been a grueling campaign thus far. Command failed to drop enough APC's to carry all the troops, so the lowest ranking had to hoof it from the dust off all the way into the city. As soon as he could get back to Garrison, he'd probably be popping blisters for hours.

Sunlight blinded Christer as he stepped out from the alley. A few civilians were still around, frantically talking and walking swiftly. He brushed past a few of them, his mind on other things. He thought what was going on back home...not Garrison, but home home. He wondered what his high school buddies were doing, what his mom and dad were doing...

A kid, bleeding. In the arms of a hare. They were only a few paces ahead...the spoils of war. It looked like a pretty nasty one, too...

"Hey! HEY!" Christer yelled, his mind getting back into buisness. "What happened?! Hold up! I'm a medic!" He was rushing over, already pulling his medical ruck off his back and reaching in.

"Hey he's a-*bop*" The boy winced and silenced himself after the rabbit's painful reminder.

"Medic, good, we got shot at coming into town. Musta been those cowards, I was the only one armed and they shot at innocent kids. Bastards ran as soon as I popped off a few rounds toward them." The rabbit replied vaguely, hoping ego and patriotism would do most of the work for him.

"Set him down," Christer said, reaching into his bag. Weird looking kid...almost looked like a skinned dog.

Medics aren't prejudice, he thought to himself.

He slid the child's pant leg up, trying to get a good look at what he was dealing with.

"Hey buddy, my name is Chris." He said, trying to be as warm as he could. "I'm just going to take a look at what we have here, and then i'm going to patch you right up, okay?"

"Thanks mister, it doesn't hurt that much though *sniff*" The hybrid seemed to be hiding the pain from his leg, keeping his eyes bright and wide yet wincing every time the man touched him.

Tobias grumbled to himself watching the kid feign innocence and pain. Hiding the real person for the person people expect, almost reminded him of someone else at that age.

Even with all this information Claw found himself unable to move. Rico Underwood, alive!

"You've lost your mind, Underwood!" growled Claw.

Claw summoned all the energy he could and tried his best to project a rough psionic shield to protect what small space of soldiers around him he could. Claw could've kicked himself for not practicing more in protection based psionics, his specialty was self-enhancement based psionic powers.

"You've changed, old friend, since when did you care about protecting pawns? You've gotten soft, or maybe age really is catching up to you," sneered Rico.

"Guess about the same time you decided to leave your brother to the slaughter," snapped Claw.

Claw knew that moving from his defensive position meant sacrificing all the soldiers around him. Rico seemed to be taunting him, tempting him with defensive openings that weren't there. Or perhaps Claw was having a hard time raising a sword to an old comrade.

"Tell your troops to pull out! Now!" barked Claw, he didn't know who he was yelling to, but he prayed someone in command would heed his warning.

Claw could smell the burning flesh of the soldiers who had been sent reeling by the explosion. Flashbacks of older times came to mind, but he pushed them away, back into the darkest depths of his tortured past.

"What is it you're after?" barked Claw.

*Fooosh*

*fizzle*

Two more fiery explosions battered the old warrior's spell. Rico's expression was a strange sort of calm rage. It was if he was purposefully making himself angry, but not enough to lose control of the situation.

"Do I need to repeat myself? THEY did this, THEY brought this on themselves. They want so badly to destroy each other, I'll gladly help the process see fruition."

*foosh* *foosh*

"This power my father gave me. It was to protect THEM! My wife, my child, my LIFE!" More blasts hit his shield in what seemed like rhythmic timing to his words, "And those underhanded bastards murdered them the moment I left. STOP PROTECTING THESE MURDERS!"

A kind of surreal silence hit him. Despite his stoic appear this man was firing off everything about life, as he didn't care about being an open book. Of course that was something Rico always was, he'd tell anyone that would listen anything. That part hadn't changed one bit. But a wife and children? Words he'd never expected to hear in conjunction with Rico's name suddenly thrown into the mix together.

Despite the rumors of his supposed power he seemed to be straining to attack Claw's shield hard enough to break it. Had he really destroyed half the town as was being claimed?

"LOWER IT! STOP PROTECTING THESE SNIVELING COWARDS!" The cries were far from the belittling stare the fox had on his face only minutes ago.

All the townspeople around them dispersed immediately with those last outbursts. Those few that dared remain behind hid within alleyways on the roofs of surrounding buildings as though they would be safer.

"RETREAT! RETREAT!" several badly injured soldiers kept shouting as they fled for their lives.

Ryn had only just taken a hold of her brother's hand to get away when the blast of hot air literally threw them several yards away.

Instinctively shielding the younger boy, she twisted herself mid-air and landed hard on her side, sliding along the ground for a couple of feet.

"Sis? Sis, you okay?" Kenneth's voice spoke up, scared and concerned.

The Felinoid opened her eyes and found him looking into her face. Aside from some cuts and slightly singed fur, he seemed alright.

"I'm fine," she groaned as she attempted to sit up, pausing as pain shot through her shoulder and spread down her side. "I think."

Soldiers fell, glass shattered, plaster cracked and laminated table tops blistered under the relentless heat generated from every blast the vengeful fox cast forth. As another flair seared the already smouldering tables on the left side of the caf, the concussive force shattered the near by wood surround, exposing electrical wiring to the onslaught of power. For a brief moment the lighting through the whole shop flickered, bulbs in the kitchens exploded from the sudden short circuit, and somewhere above there came a shrill shriek of pain.

--

Niki was barely standing, her eyes dazed from the sudden burnout that had screamed into her head with the force of several hundred volts. Panting and struggling to stay up right, she stared down at the consol through which her arm was now firmly plunged, having been her only sure method of disconnecting herself before the rebound killed her. Gradually the stunned racc removed her fist from the hart of the machine, retracting it back along the course it had taken through the shattered monitor before her shaking legs finally gave out. She hit the floor hard but hardly noticed in her dazed state. A servo near her elbow clicked irritably as she lifted her lacerated artificial hand to her face, closing each finger in turn, the damage could have been far worse. As it stood her false skin was only broken in a few places and the mechanisms beneath were still hidden, remaining indistinguishable to the naked eye.
Damn, She thought to herself, Elmos going to be really pissed with me this time.

--

We should have gone south. Rayne said casually, watching the side allys and there denizens from his seat in front of large ornate building.

His elder sibling was now hidden behind a large map, which (for the fourth consecutive time) she rotated to face what she assumed was north.
Look I told you, we are not lost. Fact is we havent been outside the city since we arrived, and we arrived by train. Common sense states there for that we should leave the same way we came in, and as the trains wont be running our best bet is to leave the city as close to the tracks as possible, that way we cant go wrong.

The tracks go south-west, He ventured with a sliver of extra force in his tone, eyes still tracing up and down the street there for south is the most logical course to take given our starting position. IF youd just let me have the map-

Oh Im sorry, Sash chimed in, bending down the top half of the map to glare at her brother I forget, whos directions was it that landed us outside this Fesuzian Art Gallery in the first place?

Rayne seemed to become remarkably uncomfortable on his step, fidgeting a little under his sisters gaze while he thought up a suitable come back The scaling on the map is highly inaccurate, but I believe that I may be able to-

Can it. She replied shortly Look, well just head down this road. As long as were headed away from the smoke we must be getting further toward the outskirts. We'll worry about fine tuneing the directions then.

High above the city, a scout transport hovered, circling, observing the carnage below. Explosions tore buildings apart, civilians and soldiers ran from the epicenter...and communication was out. The initial detonation created an EMP wave, negating all short-wave radio waves, and making the average soldier's radio obsolete. The pilot had continued to hail the ground forces, but nothing came of it. Just silence.

Palmer leaned out the side bay door, trying to get a visual with his scope. "It's hopeless, those troops don't have the experience to deal with this." He said, mournfully. His vision glanced at the fallen bodies of comrades and innocents alike.

Jag was sipping water out of a canteen, slouched next to him. His rifle was empty, and was laid out on the floor. "Command hs no idea what's going on, do they?"

"Unless those boys down there don't have a long range radio, they havn't a clue."

----~~>

The Sergeant Major had quite the predicament on his hands. The NCOIC on the ground had, luckily, gotten a hold of cellular connection, and had relayed the chaos that was taking place. With such grim details, the Sergeant Major had no choice but to order them to evacuate, and to take as many civilians as they could to the North part of the city. At that point, they would cross the Sotaki bridge, and await pickup.

Then, as much as it was painful to do, the Sergeant Major ordered an option that was used in absolute lost-cause situations.

Direct Order Gomorrah, the DOG command. Operation DOG. Some civilians would die, the city would be leveled...but they needed to wipe out this threat. If it could do this to a city in an afternoon....what could it do if more of them rallied together, and focused their efforts on the Evolian Empire?

But someone had to be on the ground to order the strike....

--~~>

"This is Freebird Tango, go ahead command." The pilot up front spoke, still circling the city. "Roger," he hesitated. "Roger, i'll ask them."

Palmer looked up from his scope, as pilot leveled the helicopter out, looking back at them.

"Command wants you boys on the ground. He's ordered a DOG."

Jag stared ahead. "A DOG? Are you serious?" He didn't seem to thrilled about the concept.

"He wants US on the ground?!" Palmer, on the other hand, was ecstatic. "This is the @#%$ they give out Evolian Crux's for! @#%$, we could be picked for Foxtrot Bravo!" He was slapping his knees, the idea of getting the highest military honor and being selected for the Galaxy-Famous special forces unit was VERY appealing.

"Yeah? And how do they suppose we survive the DOG if we're directing it?" Jag sneered, looking out the window. Another explosion tore through the city.

"As long as we have high ground, and the building is stable enough, we'll be OK." Palmer replied. "Give him the OK. Drop us in."

Jag sighed. Palmer was right, there's no chance they wouldn't survive it if they had the right ground...but he was getting used to being in the helicopter, and didn't feel like anymore hoof work. "Alright," he loaded another clip into his rifle, "Let's get this over with."

The helicopter lurched forward, dropping altitude as it aimed towards a tower which was close to the epicenter, where Rico and Claw were dueling on the streets below.

-~~>

Christer finished stitching up the young boy's wound, when the initial explosion shook the city.

"What the..." the words escaped his lips, as he stared up in the distance as a thick black smoke filtered through the buildings in the distance. He looked to the three, his duty taking over. "It's not safe here," he started, slinging his rifle, "We need to get to safety. Follow me."

"Agreed last thing we need is to end up in the middle of another firefight. Corky can you..." The rabbit was cut off by the hybrid jabbing his finger in the direction of the fight, "Dammit, he's at it again! SPARKY GET BACK HERE YOU STUPID IDIOT!" The innocent demeanor he'd been playing for the medic fell away as the boy started barking out his counterpart, who was wandering toward the commotion.

The human boy turned around confused, "But I wanna talk those guys!" He whined pointing at Sash and Rayne, just not leaving the Gallery's steps. Without much more hesitation he charged recklessly forward toward them.

Tobias snarled and lurched after him.

Claw was confused, he had sensed such an enormous energy earlier with the initial attack downtown, bu the attacks Rico were throwing were a far cry from the attacks earlier.

Was he holding back?

It didn't matter, Claw could no longer hold the shield. Luckily most of the soldiers had managed to get away from most of the explosions, although the smell of those who didn't still pervaded the air.

"Enough energy-slinging, Underwood," growled Claw.

He readied his katana, aiming it's perfectly sharpened point at Rico's forehead. Supporting the tip of the blade with his free hand he mad the sword horizontally level then charged his old friend.

The deep maroon overcoat was so thick he hadn't seen it before, or maybe he'd been to offguard with the sudden reappearance of this ghost, regardless the fox spung around locked his own katana against Claw's.

"You sold yourself then? I assume you choose what you thought was the least loathsome of the two sides in this futile conflict and have been murdering for it. Or did you simply sell yourself to the highest bidder like a common mercenary?"

His strength was more than adequate, this was not the weakling young man Claw remembered. That coat was obviously also meant to hide his biceps, to make his opponents underestimate his physical strength.

OOC: Going to wait before I have the scouts continue on, let some more interaction take place with the characters on the ground and claw and rico' fighting.

Claws eyes widened when his sword met with another sword.

"Didn't think you were one for katana's Rico," growled Claw.

Claw spun around and made a wide arc with his blade, Rico expertly blocked with a vertical hold.

"Protecting these Evolians, you're just a pathetic as they are!" spat Rico.

"In case you forgot, I'm a psionic Underwood. It's only natural I would side with the planet that provided safe haven for other psionic practitioners during the Purges. I'm sorry Rico," said Claw, his tone suddenly and uncharacteristically softened.

However Claw did not let up his assault and pushed hard against the dead-locked blades, using psionic power to suddenly and violently augment his physical strength.

As the latest sets of explosions rang out into the day she was there, watching from a distance. Surprising unphased by the acts of violence and the resulting deaths. Keyleena, known in certain engineering circles as simply Key was too busy admiring the untamed chaos behind the explosions. A young lass with a dark brown complexion and thick stands of maroon hair poking wildly out from under a rainbow colored beanie. Her attire was a telltale sign of her work with machinery of some sort. What had been a nice ginger colored tank top was now faded from overuse in sun and heat. Specks of oil and small holes forming where the fabric had stupidly snagged on something. A leather strap was sewn into the cloth where her arms popped out, the straps themselves new, littered with empty holes. They rested loosely against her upper arm. Large leather looking gloves were firmly seated on her hands. Though with a keen eye would note this unsuspecting work gloves were actually gauntlets of some sort. Made mostly of metal with a thin leather skin to mask the surface. The gloves had three small metal sliding places around where her wrist lay hidden behind the device. Around her waist were two massive belts littered with buckles, pouches, hooks and holders, an all use utility belt for both in and out of warehouse uses. Her jeans were just as marred as her shirt. One knee already blown to shreds, stray thread hanging every which way, the other knee carefully patched up with what appeared to be a smilie face. Her thick tail poked out from the back of her pants just below her belts, it seemed to sway to and fro with excitement as she stared off into the distance. Like her gloves, her boots had the appearance of tanned leather from the average vantage point, but every so often they seemed to give off a ploom of some sort of gas from under the treads. A pair of yellow tinted safety goggles dangled carelessly from her neck as she craned over the edge of the roof top.

Eyes narrowing with the newest explosion, she had finally narrowed the source or so she had though. It had hard to tell, her self implanted multi-spectral optical device seemed to switch between infrared and night vision each time the building shook. It had originally been tweaked so she would only have to blink twice in quick succession to toggled between viewing modes, now however it was starting to be a bother. If she learned anything from this, it would be to never shove black market goods into your eyes. Shaking her head from side to side and blinking franticly her right eye seemed to change in color, a small click like a camera taking a picture each time. When it rested back on a natural hazel hue she grinned over her small victory just in time for the two sword wielders to clash in a brilliant display. Surrounded by the crumbling city she couldnt help but squeal with child like excitement. Holy cow

Moo A small metal voice chirped from beside Key. She didnt need to look, she was well aware of who it was. Nix sat perched on the roofs small ledge beside Key, a miniscule metallic critter made to look much like a squirrel. Best buddy, shop hand, and official mascot for Key, he was a loyal invention from her youth. His name was somewhat of ajoke with her and her alone, derived from the fact the poor little bugger was always getting itself damaged to such a degree she had to rebuild him and swap over his memory module.

Not that type of cow you nut Key brought a hand up, shielding her eyes from the light in the sky as she peered down at the action below. Holy cow, like saying WOW you know holy cow. Didnt I upgrade your slang?

Nix spun himself around, flopping onto his back as he looked ponderously up at her. His small eyes staring blankly at her before the small metallic voice spoke again. Whoops, I blew it.

Shaking her head at the lack of sense her robotic companion was making she suddenly had an idea. E-gads my dear Nix, this would be a great time to try out the X1-600! Swiping her hand out the metallic rodent was scooped up by the tail as Key dashed back towards the roofs service door. Her heavy boots clanking loudly as she moved swiftly down the spiraling stairs. Coming up on the last few steps she hopped the railing to land in her workshop. It was a simple warehouse building, not far at all from the action. Two rooms and a roof on her head. Wasnt much, but it was something. Clamoring around in the dimly lit room she managed to grab hold of a heavy looking back pack. Slipping her arms in, she fashioned two small pins on either side to the leather straps hanging from her top.

I dont want to go explodies, I have a wife and kids to feed. Nix chimed in as Key moved out of the back room and into the front of her warehouse. It was open to the public at the moment, massive metal shutters currently raised. She did a lot of freelance inventing; as such she normally left her workshop open so people could visit her. Moving carefully up to the door she peered around the corner before reaching up to take hold of the handles mounted on the shutter. She would need to lock down the shop before running off.

The fox sneered, "You don't seem to understand. You think this is some war against a race? You're a bigger idiot than I thought. This is a race against war itself."

*Clang* He suddenly loosed his sword and lurched back, hoping to take advantage of his opponents own physical strength. He spun, all intentions were to slice into any part of the warrior that he could. But his attack only met with another metallic clanging as the Bladed Terror blocked his attack.

"I can't allow it to continue, this damn war, it's taken everything. It will end and I will end it myself!" The sir seemed to dry and start to stifle him, temperature rising dramatically. "If you won't take the innocent and leave then they'll burn along with you."

Again he lurched back from the locked swords, but this time Claws instinctive block wasn't met with an attack. The fox jumped back even further and stood glaring at Claw. "You're an idiot to think you could kill me yourself. Nax'ce."

That final alien word ignited the ground around him. The concrete and asphalt literally seemed to be burning, how the man's clothes were being spared, not to mention is body, seemed to be a mystery.

"Last chance, old friend, take the innocent and leave the soldiers to face the end they deserve, or everyone dies." The fire around him flared with his anger as he spoke the last word. Rico had always had a flare for the dramatic, but this was someone not even Claw had expected from him.

Claw growled angrily, but he knew Rico was right. That sudden spike and power, he could sense it clearly, this was what he had felt earlier. He quickly took inventory of the soldiers still left around him. About 6-8 wounded had been forgotten during the frantic retreat. There was too much risk. He wasn't sure just how big of a radius Rico's attack would effect, nor was he sure he could summon enough energy in time.

It didn't matter, he had to attack now.

"Fine, Underwood, but it's naive to think this isn't war; I've seen enough in my lifetime to know what they look like by now," growled Claw, motioning to the whimpering wounded scattered around him.

"The old Rico I knew would be disgusted," spat Claw.

Now was the time!

Claw swiped his bladed blindingly fast, cutting the air and somehow creating a shockwave from the surrounding energy that created two waves of energy. These energy waves flew into the sky and struck the two building on either side of Rico, sending huge chunks of concrete and rebar raining down on and in front of the Warden.

Claw sheathed his sword, now for the hard part. He gathered all the energy he could and spun around then released it mildly yet forcefully at the wounded, literally "blowing them away" with a mild wind of psionic force. The wounded cried out as their wounds were aggravated by the sudden change in movement.

When he thought they were a safe enough distance away Claw began to take a step but suddenly found himself on his knees.

Dammit you old fool you over did it! thought Claw to himself, to exhausted to defend himself.