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Chronicles of a Forgotten Planet/1

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Alex Terman stirred silently in front of the in the computer terminal, feeling a brief vibration in his leg, bringing him out of his written trance, the hard wood of the chair reminding him how much his buttocks could ache. As he he snuck his right paw into his trouser pocket, he pulled out a mobile communications device, as it ached for someone to press a button, and release it from silent agony. He pressed the “Accept Call” button, and pressed the ear piece against his canine ear.

“Alex Terman here, what's this morning call in aid of?” he said, sounding slightly irate at being disturbed in the small hours of the morning. Especially on his break.
“Alex, you still in charge of border patrols in Alpha Sector? We have a disturbance reported in Area 5A... not really sure whether to waste your manpower on it, but I figured you might want to sort it out personally.” Alex raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Do you have any information on this 'disturbance', John? I don't have anyone to spare, and I myself strongly dislike going into that area without having at least an inkling of what's happened.” he said, wondering why the wolf was conducting this call personally. He'd normally get a subordinate to do it for him. This must be very important.
“Yeah, the locals have claimed they heard a real ruckus, and I think some are panicking that the Dragons are preparing for a new offensive. And personally, I can't blame them.”
Alex instinctively clenched his fist, “So, you want me to go over there, and start clubbing them over the head with the nearest blunt object for a potential hoax call? My time is better spent elsewhere, and you're better off sending someone else who is less valuable to risk.”
“We don't have anyone else available to check this out, and you're my only backup at this time of the morning. Give me a call when you've examined the area, I want a full report within the hour. John out.” And with that, the phone went dead, leaving Alex to ponder what to do next. Area 5A. That would be... north of here. I don't really have any choice, so I'd best go, or risk the wrath of my boss. He slowly rose out of the chair and made his way out of the building, being careful to keep his tails raised off the ground, to avoid dirtying them as he walked. As luck, would have it, Area 5A was accessible by foot, since Alex was employed in a Guard Station, that oversaw the border between Alpha Sector and Beta Sector.

Four Worlds in a City; Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta, each separated by a mile-long no-mans land that divides an entire city into four equal chunks, with a nation reaching out from each corner. Alpha controlled by the Canids, Beta by the Dragons, Gamma by the Felines, and Delta by the Otters. Engulfed in a cold war, that's ready to ignite at the slightest tension from either side...


The guard station, directly overseeing the no-mans land between the Alpha and Beta Sectors looked totally deserted to Alex. Even at close to eleven o'clock at night, there ought to be at least a few lights on. As things stood, the situation was as chilling as the cold January air, that permeated Alex's fur, even through his guard-issue uniform. I don't like the look of this. Not one bit.

He approached the entrance, and, placing a paw on the metal door, slowly opened it, the whining of the door hinge sending a cold chill down his spine. The ground floor felt deserted, with Alex's canine ears detecting no immediate signs of life. His eyes in the meantime, were becoming accustomed to the darkness, the square room being slowly punctuated by furniture, barely visible in the dim moon-light shining through the windows. After a few minutes of stumbling around, he located a small switch on the wall, cold and metallic to the touch. He flipped it, and a bright, albeit artificial light, enveloped the room, blinding Alex for a few seconds, as his eyes reflexively shut themselves in the bright light.

As the room became gradually more visible to his senses, it didn't look much out of the ordinary. Much. Alex had been in the job long enough to spot a ransack. Especially one that was rushed. The furniture's been moved, some equipment is out, and no-one's in sight. A textbook security breach.

Alex felt an icy cold hand grasp at his stomach, and then felt it doing an admirable job of tossing its contents like a bag caught in a gale. This was something every member of his staff was worried about, and it looked like it was about to come true, very shortly. He fumbled in his pocket, and pulled out his personal communicator, holding it to his maw, “FoxFire to WolfShot, we have a security breach, Area 5A, Alpha Sector. Lock down all command posts and critical structures, and lock out all command codes until further notice. Critical digital information appears to have been compromised. I repeat, this is a Level-1 Emergency. I need backup at the aforementioned location, Area 5b, Alpha Sector.”
“This is WolfShot to FoxFire, your message has been acknowledged, all units will be informed. We are dispatching a team to your location. Sit tight, and try to find out everything you can about our would-be saboteurs, who they are, what they took, what they left, and who they left as witnesses.” “Understood, FoxFire out.”

The young Fox looked around the room, and moved towards the still-active computer system. Without thinking, he switched on the screen, watched as the system resumed its last given task. Border patrol routes, supply shipment deliveries, economic reports... most of it isn't even classified. So why would they be after this information?

But, while Alex was digesting the stream of codes on the small screen, silent footsteps were slowly approaching him. While the Fox's ears were good, they weren't perfect. Before Alex knew what was behind him, he felt a blunt, metallic object poke the back of his cranium, followed by a muffled grunt behind him. Without even having to turn around, Alex knew the figure was Feline. And if he wasn't too much mistaken, Female. “You Canids are so predictable. Someone creates a ruckus, and you send only one person? Oh, well, makes my task that much easier. So, let me get down to business; Tell me what I want to know, and I promise I'll make your death quick and painless, foxy.” Hmm. In the red corner, Death, and in the blue corner, Death. I had better be getting Hazard Pay for this.
“OK... What.. what do you want to k-know?”, said the now-trembling Fox, trying to hide whatever apprehension he was feeling, and failing miserably at it.
“Everything. Troop Movements, Supply Routes, anything that has facts, figures, and numbers that can be used against you.” Yeah. Like fuck are you getting a hold of that. If he wasn't so totally scared shitless, that's what he'd be saying.
“Ah.. right, fine... for that you'll need one of my pawprints, a retinal ID, and my favourite colour. Two of those you won't be able to obtain if I'm dead. Do we have an understanding?” The feline flipped him onto his back, and held his neck in her tight pawgrip, pressing the silver gun to the side of his head, clearly growing ever more irate. A CSF-300. As much as I want to kill her, I admire her good taste in offensive weaponry.
“Foxy, you will tell me what I want to know now, or I will kill you on the spot, and find another victim when your reinforcements get here. Do I make myself clear!?”

Alex merely mused to himself, and chanted an age-old proverb in his head, When you corner a rat, it will fight back. When you corner a Fox, things get really messy. In one swift action, his legs pushed themselves into the Feline's torso, lifting her clean off the floor, and throwing her gun clear across the floor. Without even blinking, he ran for the gun, and swiftly turned to face his would-be assassin.

Only she wasn't there.

Gone. Into thin air. Like a ghost, the only give-away she was every there, was the door that just now slammed shut, betraying her silence. Running after her would be suicide right now. Alex surveyed the scene, and planned what to do next. He was about to leave, when his Boss walked in through the door, surveying the mess. ”Alex you know what I'm going to ask, don't you?”
“Yeah, I do. She got away, lightning fast reflexes and equally fast on foot. She was Feline, A Lynx, if my old biology teacher steered me right. But those physical attributes arn't normal for Felines. What do you think's going on, John?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. It's possible they're using Genetic Resequencing to improve themselves.”
“It's not only possible, it's very possible. We no longer have a world body like the former United Nations policing every Nation and State as to what they can and can't do. We don't even have International Law anymore.”
The Wolf, meanwhile, could only growl as he guessed what would have to happen next, “We need to launch an offensive. This kind of technology can't be allowed to fall into the wrong paws.”
“Well, that begs the question... how do we smack down a species that are making themselves stronger than us?”
“You become stronger.”

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