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_ Ow..._

_ _ Patrick began uncurling slowly, having pulled into a protective ball during the whipping. He felt... well... really shitty.

_ Welts and more welts and bruises and cuts and more bruises..._ He noticed his breathing was coming fast and ragged, he wasn't sure if it was because of the lashing he just took or the effects the drugs from earlier, still undoubtedly in his system.

_ _ As he patted himself up and down, curling toes and rolling his arms to identify possible injuries â€" instinct, after a few years of army life â€" he began to listen again to the conversation in the next room...

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_ _"Commander... Fyrr? Um... Oh damn, uh..." That sounded like the black feline...

_ _"Sable! Answer the damned question! Are. You. Alone?" And that was... somebody else.

_ _"Um... oh right, yes Commander! I am alone commander!"

_ _ "Good. Now keep your maw shut and listen very carefully, I am not going to repeat this..." Patrick decided he wouldn't want to meet the owner of this voice in a dark alley... it sounded like she ate nails for breakfast, fucking buzz saw. "Sable, you were on perimeter shift when the Northerners hit us with orbitals, right?"

_ _ "Um..." So...we did hit ‘em, this affirmation of success brought a little spark of confidence back to life, having been shot in the face caused him to miss the strike... up till now he hadn't been sure if it had worked, he'd assumed so... but even then... "Yes, I barely made it out alive-"

_ _"Sable! Listen! You are prey-for-the-flay if you do not get yourself lost right now, you have to get out of... wherever you are right no-"

_ _ "SHHH! NO... wait what-DAMMIT, I mean; what are you tal-" Sable â€" Patrick remembered her name â€" didn't sound quite stable, her deep voice fluctuated in tone rapidly, really a sound you have to hear to understand.

_ _ "SILENCE! Sable, just listen! Interrupt me one more time and you get what is coming for you! Alright... listen," the voice on the com sounded calmer now... "We lost Ssenka â€" QUIET! NOT A DAMN MEW OUT OF YOU! I KNOW, I know... you got off on leave right before we were forced to cede the Ibbar stretch, reinforcements are holding the Northerners on their side of the Ibbar... for now. In all likelihood we won't be able to reinforce the line further before they get a claw latched on..."

_ _ "Oh no... look, I can come back early, I can-" Aww, she sounds frightened... she should be.

_ _ "No... No! Sable, that's not quite the problem... Our regiment, four-twenty-one composite suffered heavy losses, I only got the full report yesterday, including you... there's only twenty or so of us left... we got mauled on the perimeter, and then bled while pulling out of Ssenka. I know... Sable... we were holding the line when the city fell. Command has been playing hot-potato with the blame, General White tossed it at us, and I'm afraid we seem to have caught it. We are being held responsible for losing Ssenka, Sable."

_ _ "... W-what? No! Why-" She didn't quite sound like she believed it.

_ _ "Losing Ssenka is a huge blow to our cause Sable, you know that â€" I know that, General White obviously did too, it's our heads for her damned career, it seems. Listen... a friend of mine in the ‘politic' heard they were coming down on us claws bared. We are the scapegoats; we are the treacherous ones who ‘gave' the humans the ‘gem of the north' hmmph! I have to go soon Sable, I'm in trouble too, I just called to warn you. Get out, and get out now unless you want a one way ticket to the pit on the Royal express. If you make it... then head to this address..." He heard a beep, received mail? "I can... help you out a bit more, if you're willing to... accept it. Now, blessings of the queen upon you, and farewell." Beep.

_ _ "Wait! What's that supposed to mean!?" Patrick heard her sigh, and for no apparent reason found himself grinning.

_ _ The clicking of claws â€" with each of her nearing steps â€" coming from the other room, removed his grin with great efficacy and expedience.

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_ _ Heart pounding, Sable turned off the hallway and back into the living room, head down and chewing on her stubby padded fingers, her other arm was wrapped about the front of her abdomen, her upper body bent forward as if her gut was cramping.

_ What, what the... if I go, yes I can go to the address, where is it? I'll have to look it up, is it even in this damn city, what was the city code? Damn, Ssenka... why Ssenka?_

_ _ She stopped, twitching slightly, her tail was flowing behind her deceptively, it looked as if it was twirling slowly, loose in its smooth waving dance... in reality it was so tense as to be painful, the faint beginnings of an ache started in her tail base.

_ _ Sable started pacing back and forth before the entrance into the hallway, oblivious of the human watching her, confused and cautious, from the corner.

_ __Dammit, why would I be in trouble, you can't stand and fight a damned orbital strike, only a shaved fool would think she could! It's a damned giant metal rock from space, what did they expect me to do? Shoot it? They want us dead... why!? I am a valuable solder, I know I am! I've survived, I've got experience, I've even got medals and I've never faltered in the face of the enemy! What in the infinite expanses of the pit could have implicated me!? I'm a loyal soldier, I don't even know anyone or anything important!   _

_ _ Sable simply could not understand what she had done wrong, what she had done to deserve this. She stood and fought and even captured a human of near equivalent rank, she wasn't even in the province when Ssenka fell, and she had prior permission to be off duty from all channels of authority. Approved and sealed by her superiors, she had all the paper work even, and no one did all the paper work anymore these days, the only reason she did was because she felt guilty about worming her way into home leave a whole week early.

_ Fyrr might be wrong, she's old enough... perhaps she'd finally worked her claws blunt? She'd never been wrong before,_ -Sable had always looked up to Fyrr, she was good at what she did, and had survived long enough to earn her graying fur... - but she... no one can stand that much battle, shes lost her senses, she must have... ‘her friend in the politic' my tail, why would she have any friends in the politic, the politic is a closed circuit, not open to just any friendly bullet biter... she must be wrong, it's the only way, no one would want me dead, I know nothing, I didn't do anything, and I'm loyal and useful... to the pit with this, shes lost the scent of reality, ol' Fyrr's stalking her own shadow... must be... I'll just wait it out, and if anyone comes for me I'll explain what happened... not like anybody is going to come, of cou-

_ _ "Err... excuse me Mistress? I believe I can, uhm... help your in your... predicament..."

_ _ Startled from her mangled thoughts, she stopped mid-pace and stared at him, perfectly still for a moment. He had a very irritating smug grin plastered to his flat, furless human face, but the predator of her subconscious noticed his unease; he was still in the corner, snug up against the wall, knees now drawn up before his chest and arms crossed over them. Despite the face and the overlookable position, she could tell he was tensed, uneasy, fight or flight... she couldn't quite smell it, but she knew it was there... he was afraid. She stood straighter, shoulders back, the fear... however well hidden it was, gave her confidence. She was sure of one thing in this world; that this little human was at her mercy.

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_ _ Patrick watched her enter; the clicking of her feet on the hardwood flooring had increased in speed slightly with each passing step, but only slightly. She took a step into the room before coming to an abrupt stop.

_ _ Patrick watched with some slight, inexplicable amusement as she proceeded to pace back and forth before the entrance to the hall. The awkward position she held rigid a testament to her undoubtedly deep and troubling thoughts... Patrick had heard it all, oh yes, each and every last juicy word of that conversation... now all he had to do was figure out how he could twist it to his own ends.

_ Well, even I know the window of opportunity for anything is only open for those who try it... worst case scenario; she beats me, and some imperial creeps show up and kill her... and me. Best outcome... I don't die? Eh... Why not?_

_ _ "Err... excuse me Mistress? I believe I can, uhm... help your in your... predicament..." Patrick figured using a submissive tone couldn't do him any harm; play to her natural predatory dominance complex. It still irked him, even if it was just an act. God do I want to boot her furry face...

_ _ She stopped mid-stride, and yet again, bore a startled expression. He just held his position, even the rather un-ingratiating face he just noticed he wore, it had occurred to him to stop grinning â€" but for a moment there he held the irrational fear that, were he to move in the slightest â€" she would eat him.

_ _ She abruptly pulled herself together, standing full height and squaring her sloped feline shoulders. The surprised expression slipped away and was replaced with one of haughty disdain. He realized how much he preferred her confused look. Almost every other expression he'd seen her with made her look, well... distinctly predatory.

_ _ "So... a minor punishment and a little time for... reflection, was enough to put you in your place... slave?" She's testing me... I hate that fucking word, I'm gonna rip your pointy ears of you- no, no, don't take the bait... calm, don't want to die now do we? Act like the little cowardly prey-human she wants... rip her disgusting fuzzy face off later... He pulled his twitching face into an expression of submissiveness, eyes cast downwards, head bowed slightly... her feet still visible on the edge of his sight, he wouldn't let her out of his vision.

_ "Good, now, you wanted to _serve your mistress by telling her something? I grant you permission to request freedom of speech... slave." I am going to shave you from the points of your ears to the tip of your tail and beat you black and blue... Again, against all odds he accomplished the miracle of not letting his rage boil over into either voice or expression.

_ _ "Yes. Mistress. Thank you. May I speak freely... M-mistress?" Oh god, this is painful... He shifted his position slightly, and the spark of pain from a disturbed lash-mark reminded him of just how easy it actually was.

_ _ Purring ever so slightly, an ‘I'm going to break your ribs and watch you squirm beneath my paw' grin holding her face, she replied after a short moment; "Oh, how endearing, already trying to help his mistress with her affairs, how loyal a slave you are... yes, you have my purr_mission. _Speak."

_ _ Keeping his face down he hoped would hide the now hopelessly hostile sneer, Patrick managed to keep his voice in check; "I... uh... accidentally overheard your conversation mistress, and um... I believe I can offer you, say, some, uh... suggestions? If only you would, uh... consent to hear me through...?"

_ _ "Well... isn't that... surprising," Patrick stole a peek up at his misstre- ENEMY. To judge the waters, to his honest surprise she looked somewhat pensive, unsure, with his head down he wouldn't have guessed... her voice was just as confident as ever. He could leave that as not being quite familiar with non-human voices, but still... the voice disturbed him somewhat. It was just too constant sometimes, always angry or condescending. "I personally can't think of anything you, of all the lowly beings on this planet, could offer me that I could possibly want, At least not without me ordering you... But, I have nothing better to do for the moment... so you may... mm... amuse me. Before we continue with your... training."

_ Remember the face, remember the face, she's confused and unsure, the voice lies, the voice lies..._ "Alright then, mistress... uh... bear with me now..." He took a steadying breath. "Listen, I heard you're in a spot of trouble, and I know the kind of trouble you're in for. We humans, we are your enemy right? And we've been fighting and watching each other for a long time, and so you can at least trust us to be honest about one thing; we know the faults of the empire, we wouldn't lie about them... we might lie about our own, but we wouldn't lie about yours, right? I mean, you're our enemy, knowing your flaws is like our job... so-"

_ _"I'm beginning to regret letting you talk, is there a point to this or shall we get back to the whipping?"

_ _"Ok, ok, just listen... ok, um... well, we in the North know about this, we've been watching it happening and wondering about it for a long time now... even I know it and I'm a grunt... well, your empire, even you must realize, is a tad bit... um... corrupt, you know? Else wise you would have won this war a long time ago, right?" She had betrayed a twitch of irritation at the mention of ‘corrupt', but she nodded in confirmation.

_ _ Patrick, gaining a little confidence at the absence of a lashing whip thus far, continued; "Well, we in the NAR have noticed this common trend... your government tends to hide things like military failures and setbacks, and when they can't, um, cover something up so to say, for morale purposes and all... I'm sure, well, someone takes the fall, right? Well, those higher up in your government dump the blame for such unfortunate occurrences on some minor commanders or generals, and they are... um... shall we say, forcefully retired?"

_ _ "Forcefully retired? Is this some ploy to get me to release you or what?" Well... ultimately... yes. "I serve in the Royal Army your moron, I think I would know if my comrades started dying mysteriously. Honestly, are you trying to tie my tail in a knot? I'm not as paranoid and gullible as you seem to thi-"

_ _ If he didn't take the conversation back now, Patrick realized, she would just run right over him and convince herself she was right, then his pleas would fall on deaf ears. "YES! Yes, sorry... uh... yes, I know you would notice, but I didn't mean just any soldiers. Before it was just little known secretary generals, minor field commanders and the like, that sort of thing. No one you would ever hear of, all the big shots would just pass the blame on, you know how it works, just pass it on until someone small enough to be crushed by it gets... well, crushed by it! That's how your government works, someone always is at fault, your politicians just don't believe that some defeats are unavoidable or... or something. Honestly though, you haven't ever noticed, say, someone you reported to periodically, someone above you but still vaguely unimportant, just another clean-clothed officer sitting behind a desk, not someone you'd ever really talk with or know... just a middle ma... um... woman. You ever noticed how often those faces change, ever walk in and ask; ‘oh where did the tiger from last week go?' and were told that she'd been stationed to the capital or retired unusually young or suffered a stroke? You must have noticed something."

_ _ "Uhh... Well, I might have, but those sort of rankers are always moving around, the middle ranks are very... fluid, like that... there just isn't any conspiracy or anything, I'll admit corruption does exist, it exists everywhere, so don't you tell me you humans are pure and divine or anything... besides, even if there was... such a trend, murders like you say, why would they affect me? I am a sergeant, not a damned middle ranker, I get shot at by scum like you for a living, and I'm below political attention. Why would low level infantry be susceptible to this? It makes no sense."

_ _ "No, you're right, it doesn't make sense!" Patrick was relieved, she seemed to be going along with his argument, or at least... she hadn't hit him yet. "That's one of the main reasons we are winning this war, why despite all the odds we can outmaneuver you and our campaigns don't falter. It's not that you have bad commanders or even bad troops, you know that, we know that. You must have noticed by now, all your imperial attempts at pushing North, a drive to regain lost territory, to go on the offensives, they all falter and fail halfway through even if they were going well to begin with. Its because you command isn't constant, its constantly changing, rotating, the power struggles are endless, someone is always trying to unseat their neighbor. The pushes and defenses always fail eventually because the commanders, even if they have a good approach, always change. Something happens to them and their replacements are either not up to snuff or decide to follow a different strategy halfway through the campaign. This incongruity lends the NAR the ability to maneuver, it saps the strength of imperial numbers, allows our strength in maneuverability to peak." He stopped for a breather, looking up, Sable now - he was relieved to see â€" an intent expression, she was listening to him, not angry or unbelieving, but quite caught up in his proposition.

_ _ "Have you ever been attacking and gaining ground somewhere, like... uh... were you part of the October offensives last year, in Ssenka?" She nodded dumbly; Patrick was now watching her openly. "That caught us unawares, we had our troops concentrated on another front, and you were making headway, I remember having to fall back almost constantly, we were drowning in you numbers, thirty thousand, we learned after the battle, quite a number. Well, if you were there, you remember that on the third day of the offensive you stopped receiving orders, right? We were monitoring your com-traffic and everything seemed confused and uncoordinated all of a sudden, lots of ‘requesting orders' going around between units. Yeah?"

_ _ Again, a slight nod, Patrick took heart. "That one day cost you your momentum, we got our reinforcements as well as our air superiority back and started pushing your lines back to the position that... well... you shot me at. Well, that was because General Clearre, remember her? I think she was supposed to be a wolf or something, right? Well, that's when she got ‘early retirement on medical grounds' and was replaced by General White, the current commander of the... former defenders of Ssenka. See, prime example of what I was getting at, now if you'd just listen-"

_ _ "Alright human, so you have convinced me of this, at least. But it still does not answer my question, the inherent flaw in... whatever you are trying to say; I. Am not. A commander. Why would my regiment get the blame, we are foot soldiers. Of little political import. Why not just reincorporate us into another unit? Our numbers are so low anyway."

_ _ "Well that's what we've been noticing too, instead of blaming their fellow officers, your superiors seem to be handing the punishments on further down to us infantry types, just lowly ground pounders. Perhaps they got wise, and realized that you are no threat politically, and can't turn it back on them. I don't know, whatever their motivation is though, we have been noticing unlikely replacements of troops. Longstanding garrisons at... say... besieged cities have been replaced at strange times, we watch you constantly, we know troops are rotated at regular intervals. Well, it's only recently become a noticeable trend, but we see a unit here or there disappear after a lost engagement â€" even if they have apparently no connection to it â€" and they are replaced by some green conscripts. Good, proven combat troops are pulled back irregularly, and we don't see them put up to reinforce another front anywhere else, so we get nervous."

_ _ "A question, human, how would you know this, you are just a sergeant if your tags are to be believed. As far as I'm concerned, most infantry sergeants aren't exactly privy to just any military intelligence. Not even in NAR, not even in a human army."

_ _ "Now I'm just a soldier, and I don't know much, but it's hardly classified information, so I usually just pick it up off handedly in discussions with officers and the like, technically its, um, against the rules and all to discuss this sort of thing openly, but even officers are warm blooded critters, and they will talk openly to a trusted friend if they so choose, yeah, I have a few friends here and there."

_ _ It was true, Patrick reflected, he hadn't many friends really, but he had a few good ones, most of them served with, or even under him previously before moving on up the ranks, leaving him behind. As far as he knew, he had a very good reputation, and Patrick figured he could ask pretty much any question and get an unhesitating answer, even if it was classified. Not that he would, he'd figured out a long time ago that the less important crap you know, the less likely you are to end up going on solo, near-suicide missions... kind of like the one he had just been on in fact...

_ _ "Anyway, I heard that since they had been noticing these troops being pulled back and disappearing they, naturally, got nervous. We in the NAR supposedly pride ourselves on our Intelligence capabilities; I know the Intel officers are stuck up wankers anyway. So they had the answers hunted down internally, and no... before you ask, I have no idea what that means. You can guess as much as I can - spies or whatever you want to think, I don't know. Anyway, the story I was told was that Intel was getting thrashed by their nervous superiors, who suspected a secret troop build-up somewhere, in preparation for a major offensive. Intel eventually discovered that the troops that were withdrawn were released on home leave or sent behind lines to recuperate and resupply, and then were forgotten. My friend told me it was like they ceased to exist, no records or being retired or discharged, no KIA's, MIA's or any such thing, they were just taken off the records. I suspect that's what is being done to you, and your unit. You were the ones charged with holding the perimeter when we, I, attacked. Now that Ssenka is completely lost, somebody has to pay, right? Ssenka has played a major role in imperial propaganda right? ‘Holding the Northerners at Bay Since the Beginning', ‘The Back of the North will be Broken at Ssenka', ‘Ssenka; the Capital of the War', am I right? I've seen some of those posters, advertisements... anyway, Ssenka is gone now, I'm sorry, and your unit is in a very awkward position. You were holding the line at the onset of the NAR offensive, your unit survived the battle... barely, and there are only a few of you... so it's no great loss to your war effort anyway. For Miss White, your general â€" the real reason the battle was probably lost â€" due to her tactical incompetence and inability to isolate our breakthroughs â€" it would only be too easy to call you on the failure. You are the perfect target, you believe me now? Tell me that doesn't make sense?"

_ _ "I- I, well... well why would you want to help me anyway you... YOU DAMNED BALD BASTARD! Why would you try and convince me of this, if I get killed by some government ‘faceless' then wouldn't you be happy, I enslaved you! What reason could you possibly dredge up out of the pit for helping me!?" It would be a slight understatement to say her sudden shouting scared Patrick. He figured he'd have fallen backwards were he not already sitting propped up against the wall.

_ _ "Uh-uh... calm down, please, I... well... oh. Right... well, think about it. You think they... your ‘government faceless' people are just gonna waltz in a shoot you, and then leave me behind without a second glance? No, course not, not only am I human but I also witnessed the events leading up to the fall of Ssenka. So, I'm living proof that your unit was blamed for a defeat that was beyond your ability counter."

_ _ "Well... then... Damn it! This is un... unbelievable. Uh... wait, if I'm to be killed then why would I have been given home leave, and why in the name of the empress herself would I have been granted ownership of you, if you're so damned incriminating? Why didn't they just keep you for interrogation?"

_ _ "Oh..." Well, I'm not sure... now that you mention it... oh, yes, that makes sense; "Well, if I had been interrogated then the interrogators would have known that it wasn't your fault, and then they could be used by... say... a rival of General Whites' to prove that , in fact, it was General White who was responsible for losing Ssenka. So... giving me to you would keep two possible sources of trouble together, minimizing the chances of... well... trouble. Oh, and you probably got given home leave because while you're here you are isolated amongst the civilian population, without the support of your fellow infantry. Your comrades, like that lady on com you spoke to, were also probably isolated somehow."

_ _ "This whole thing is stupid, unbelievable, paranoid, and inexplicably probable. Yet despite the fact that, yes - I now believe you, to an extent, we are still going to die, according to you. So, I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to evade capture in the imperial heartland, do you?"

_ _ "Um... no. That's up to you, all I can say is that you should probably leave now, and get as far away from this... um... apartment? Yes? ...As possible."

_ _ "Oh... and then what, also, why are you telling me this? If I leave I'm not going to bring you with me, you would attract what is apparently unwanted attention now, and you would slow me down. Or are you relying on my gratitude to ensure your survival. You don't deserve any, human, you may not be normal prey, but you are still just a tool to a true predator. Don't forget that."

_ _ "Well... to answer both questions..." Cold, heartless bitch. "You asked me, ‘what then?', what would you do once you're out of immediate danger? Well, in all likelihood you would become a fugitive in your own country, and would be hunted down like... mm... prey." Her expression turned nastier, maybe I went a bit too far... Patrick cut her off before she could, probably, curse at him; "Wait! Sorry... if you take me with you, I can help you get to more... um... permanent safety perhaps? I could, maybe... get you asylum? A defector of your rank would just be shot or imprisoned, but as I said, I have a few friends... but they are good friends and in good places. What's one predator? I could probably get you written off as a refugee or something, if we actually ever get to the border, that is..."

_ _ "I will not betray my queen, nor my country, human; you'd best not forget that. I am not a defector."

_ _ "Surely the fact that your own people are-" Patrick began...

_ _ "SOME PEOPLE are trying to kill me. A few corrupt whores in high places, but I am ever loyal to my queen and my people; predators. You, human, might be bereft of such noble sentiments as honor, duty and loyalty, but predators are superior beings, so I suppose it makes sense that we, the apex of evolution, are possessed of such things while you of the lower orders do not. You are, after all, only meat for the grinder, and so, I doubt evolution would waste its efforts on... such expendable things such as you. Steaks... don't need feelings."

_ _ "Oh..." Well aren't you little M_iss _Racial Tolerance...

_ _ "Oh don't worry little fleshling, I'm not going to leave you... yet. I'll take you because you... as you yourself said, are ‘living proof' of my, and my comrades innocence. But, ill not so much as touch your disgusting, cowardly offer, I will not defect, and I will only ever find residence in NAR territory if it's been cleansed by the fires of the Empire."

_ _ "Um..." Patrick was greatly confused by this cat, one moment she was attentive and following his every lead and word, the next she was lecturing him on racial inferiority. Hell...Why not, play along, catch the ball... just go along with her... "Ok?"

_ _ "Hmm... Now you will wait here, I must see to a few things before we leave, and we shall leave soon. We will not be going North, not unless that is where my captain has requested I meet her, we will meet with my captain and hear what she has to say. Perhaps... Perhaps she will have some use for you. If not, well, I've never actually tasted the flesh of a human, prey... yes. But not humans. I imagine you taste similar though. When we take our leave you will keep up with my pace, and you will not falter, else I will leave you to your death. I will hear no complaints, not a damned word. Is that clear?"

_ _ "Um... yes?"

_ _ "Good..." She began to turn away, but stopped, picked up the switch, which she had dropped earlier, and seemed to consider it in her hand with her back to Patrick. Well this can't be good. "Oh yes, and slave?"

_ This game again?_ "Yes mistre-" She whirled around before he could finish his half hearted reply, switch zipping through the air in an overhand arc, before being brought down hard on his shoulder, the same one which had been struck previously, eliciting a howl of agony from the stricken human.

_ _ "YOU WILL NOT EAVESDROP ON ME â€" EVER!"

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** Weeeeeell... yeah. Sorry 'bout how long it took to get this submitted :D i had finals & shit. :P i hate finals... anyway, yeah, its break! so i should be able to pursue my hobbies like writing more regularily! huzzah!

comments/criticisms are very much wanted :D thank you for reading thus far.

** Formatting is EVIL