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Chapter One

Dual yellow suns shone brightly through a blue sky which held several cotton-like white clouds that briefly blocked the stars from shedding their bright illumination upon the verdant green trees and grass as they floated overhead. The gentle rolling hills, broad-leafed trees and clouds of colorful flying insects did nothing to assuage the anxiety of the young fox that was trotting through them at a brisk pace. Nor did the smooth lines and curves of the aesthetically pleasing architecture and constructs of his surroundings calm his nerves. Today was his Determination Day, and the course of his career and future as a Vul'Prassad officer would be decided by his Elders.

The fox was already running late as he began to sprint down the long green expanse of the base's parade grounds. His barracks were located on the opposite side of the Vul'Prassad officer training center, and he was not yet of sufficient rank to requisition a hovercar from the vehicle pool. The Vul'Prassad, a race of vulpine soldiers that enhanced the abilities of their officers with cybernetic head implants, did not tolerate a lack of punctuality well. Any aberration of their norms would leave one subject to an incredible amount of suspicion, and Se'vaal did not wish to invite any of that on the day that his superiors determined to what capacity he would serve them and the Anasian Confederation for the rest of his adult life.

Se'vaal, growing increasingly panicked, tried to check the time using his newly implanted headset. He had, a week prior, completed his four years of officer training at the OTC, which required him to undergo the surgery that was the ultimate right-of-passage for his people, one that most did not attain. He was still getting used to the increased sensory overload and uncontrollable influxes of random information from 'Prassadi Central Dispatch that would flood his neurons at random times throughout the day. Something as simple as pulling up the current time was proving to be as difficult as everything else this morning, and he abandoned the task.

Fortunately, the angular marble and steel facade of the base's Bureau of Assignment appeared as he rounded a corner through a grove of thickly flowering Yelma trees. Se'vaal bounded up the steps, hoping that he was not unacceptably late. He opened the thick wooden doors of the building, and quickly passed through an automatic security checkpoint, which scanned the fox and allowed him entry. After navigating the old building's maze of identical appearing corridors and stairs, he finally found his destination, a large presentation room at the end of the main hallway on the fifth level.

Despite his tardiness, Se'vaal needed to stop and regain his equilibrium after his frantic journey. In addition to the adjustment of Se'vaal's nervous and vascular systems to his new implants, the fox had spent most of his youth on Vul'Prassad cargo ships, as his family were mostly of the spacefaring caste of the society who operated the vehicles that kept the vulpine people at the forefront of Anasian commerce and arms trading. In fact, Se'vaal had not spent more than several months at a time on a planet until he was selected to enroll in Officer Training School. The last four years on 'Prassadia had been a major adjustment for him, and one that he felt that he had never fully completed. Se'vaal desperately hoped to be assigned to his home in the freedom of space, instead of in the heavy prison of a gravity well.

Se'vaal regained his composure, opened the door and stepped through. Inside the large room was an elevated platform with five ornate polished wood desks that were illuminated from above by an array of bright lights. In front of the desks was a small metal chair that Se'vaal understood to be the place for him. Inhabiting the desks were five grizzled old Vul'Prassad Generals in their hybrid uniforms displaying 'Prassadi unit and rank insignia upon a standard Califeron Teseretz dress uniform. Se'vaal approached the metal chair, stood at attention and saluted the Generals, noting a small timepiece on the wall in front of him, indicating that he had just barely arrived on time. With a barely perceptible sigh of relief, he sat down.

The senior General above Se'vaal cleared his throat, and connected his headset directly to Se'vaal's, which caused the young fox to inadvertently jerk his head to the left. Seeing this, the General smirked, and began to speak.

"Cadet Se'vaal Terkren," the General boomed, "you have been called before the Bureau of Assignment today because you have successfully completed the course of your training at the 'Prassadi Officer Training Center. You have received your enhancements, and it is now time for you to receive your duties and assignment to contribute to the glory of our people, and the defense of the free Anasian Universe. Do you understand?"

Se'vaal, siting at the edge of his seat, nodded.

"Very good." the General continued. "As you know, once a Vul'Prassad cadet completes their training, the Bureau determines where they should be placed based on a rigorous examination of many variables that we have been observing over your time here. Once the Cadet has their career specialty chosen, they then spend their first year of service embedded with another Anasian society that specializes in that field of combat. You will be working with many of these peoples during your career, and you will need to understand their ways of life and war."

"You, Cadet Terken," The General announced, "have been determined to best suit the needs of the Vul'Prassad and the Anasian Confederation in the field of Near-Orbit and Atmospheric Combat. You will operate air and low-orbit assault missions, and will be embedded with the Califeron Teseretz 4th Aerospace wing on the planet of Altaura. Your companions will be a Bovinasian people who are, due to their history and the nature of their planet's topography, some of the most skilled and feared pilots of fighter and attack craft in the AC. Begin packing, you leave for Altaura in two days. Dismissed!"

---

That evening, Se'vaal had still not quite made up his mind about how he felt about his new assignment. While he was certainly pleased with being selected to go into Aerospace, he would have been happier with a more interstellar career path. But he knew that the only Vul'Prassad who got to live most of their days in space were the Spacefaring Caste. He was now no longer a part of that. He was in the Warrior caste now, the top of the societal pedestal of 'Prassadi life. Aerospace was as close as he could possibly get to where he wished to be, and Se'vaal was sure that he would certainly have to take it.

What he was not sure about were the people whom he would be living and training with. He had spent some time that afternoon learning as much as he could about the people of Altaura. Unlike many of the other Anasian Societies, there was not as much information about these Bovinasians. Still, he learned that they lived fairly close to the Periphery of the AC, near a large void region of space that contained a three-point border between the Anasian Confederation, it's rival the Phalanaxian Empire, and the somewhat elusive Reptilian Alliance, of which little was known. This void in space was hundreds of light years across, and despite the potentially contentious borders, there had been little interaction across it between the three interstellar powers in several centuries.

The planet itself was not very noteworthy. It orbited a single orange sun, and was a fairly standard terrestrial planet with over 50% of its surface covered by two enormous continents separated by a fairly shallow ocean. The large size of the continents caused all of the land that was not immediately adjacent to a coast to be extremely arid, with violently shifting weather patterns. It was not uncommon for the world's capitol city of Verosha to experience a blizzard one day, with the next bringing hot dry winds and dust storms from the opposite direction. Tornadoes and massive thunderstorms were normal occurrences, as were long bouts of stagnant hot dry weather. Most of the land was covered in plains and steppes that consisted mostly of low-growing resinous aromatic brush and tall grasses. Trees were usually only found near the coasts, and were not common in the interior.

The people themselves were Bovinasian, a race of Taurine cattle-people who were sturdy, strong, and had adapted to the harsh weather of Altaura well. Se'vaal ruminated on the fact that Bovinasians were not usually fond of leaving their planets, and certainly did not tend to be peoples who specialized in airborne combat! Still, there were always exceptions to the rule, and Se'vaal would certainly find out more about them in a week's time when he landed at the CT base outside of Verosha.

Until then, he needed to pack. The young fox soldier returned to his barracks to organize his meager possessions into his travel kit, where he found his old buddies from training doing the same thing and comparing notes on where they would be sent. It would be interesting to see if any of his comrades were going to join him, or at the very least, to hear about the diverse places and people that they would be sent off to.

"Where'd you get put?" One asked another.

"Heavy Mechanized Assault." A tall and lanky 'Prassad Cadet announced proudly. "I'll be training with the Ursinasians on Velkenth Prime. Exactly where I wanted to be! How about you?"

"Me?" the other bunkmate of Se'vaal asked. "Well, it's not quite where I wanted to be, but it'll work. I got put into Specialized Assault, so I'm going to Vulpon, in the Interior. I kind of wanted to train with some non-fox people, but it shouldn't be that bad. I've been around you bastards fortoo long, I need a change of scenery!"

"Shit, I envy you!" Shouted another from across the room. "I wish I could be around more foxes. Or other mammals, at least! They put me into exoinfantry with a bunch of Dracinasians! As if space wasn't cold enough without them around! What about you, Se'vaal?"

Joining in the casual chauvinism that was commonly displayed by Vul'Prasad when they were amongst themselves, Se'vaal replied. "I'm going into Air and Orbital Assault. I'm spending the next year with a bunch of flying cows on some nowhere world called Altaura."

"I thought you wanted to be in the air or in space?" Asked Se'vaal's friend.

"I do," Se'vaal replied. "But I'm not sure about this planet or these people. I don't have a good feeling in my gut about it, you know?"

"Oh, don't worry about it." The friend retorted. "It's probably just your stomach and everything else getting adjusted to the implants. We're all going through it. You'll be fine."

His friend smacked him on the back. "C'mon, this is the last night we can go out while we're still on the homeworld. Let's get wasted one last time!"

Se'vaal agreed. If he was going to be forced to go to this strange world filled with strange people, the Vul'Prassad could deal with one of their officers getting drunk before a four-day journey to the edge of Anasian Space.

---

After a night of imbibing large quantities of ethanol-based beverages in some of the seedier parts of Lethud, the capitol city of Prassadia, the group of freshly-minted and hungover 'Prassadi officers returned at the break of dawn to gather their packs. After breakfast and several hearty good-byes, the group disbanded and departed to their various troop transport ships. The ground of the Officer Training Center shook as thirty large craft took their leave of the planet, full of the next generation of young Vul'Prassad ready to take the helm of military units across the Anasian Confederation.

Most of the ships were packed, anyway. Se'vaal was surprised to find that he was the only passenger in the hold of the massive transport ship. Were there no others that were assigned to Altaura? Certainly he could not have been the only Cadet among nearly a thousand that was assigned to Air and Orbit? Once his ship lurched upward and Se'vaal found himself buried in his seat cushion during the ascent, he realized that he would be the only 'Prassadi there.

Not one other of his kind for an entire year...

The trip from Prassadia to Altaura was fairly uneventful, aside from the transport ship picking up a unit of 'Prassadi exoinfantry who were rotating back to the AC Interior after a tour of duty in the Phalanaxian War. He was regaled with the stories of the soldiers who fought in armored spacesuits in inhospitable places like asteroids, the hulls of space stations and large craft, or on planets with atmospheres and conditions that would kill all but the most hardened warriors. The exoinfantry was considered to be a type of special forces, and had the highest concentration of 'Prassadi solders than any other type of combat service in the Califeron Teseretz.

Se'vaal asked one of the exoinfantry if they knew anything about Altaura. He replied that he didn't. Another soldier piped up and mentioned that he had been stationed at a base on the Phalanaxian front with a unit of orbital defense pilots from Altaura. He proceeded to tell Se'vaal one of the more exciting war stories he heard during the two days that he shared his transport with the exoinfantry unit.

"What'd you say your name was, Cadet?" The exoinfantry soldier asked Se'vaal.

"Se'vaal." He replied.

"Good meeting you, Se'vaal. I'm First Lieutenant Ethreel." The soldier introduced himself over the loud vibrations of the bulkheads around them. "So you were asking about Altaura and the Bovinasians that live there?"

"Yes, sir, I was." Se'vaal replied.

"Why? Are you getting stationed there or something?" Lt. Ethreel asked.

"Yes sir. Final training year."

"Ah, I see. Very good. Well, to answer your question, I worked with them a bit a couple of years ago toward the end of the last Phalanaxian War. There was a couple of units of them on our base when we were stationed on Setari 3. Do you know where that is?" Lt. Ethreel asked.

"I don't, unfortunately."

"Ah." The gruff vulpine sighed. "Well, it's understandable. The planet is on the other side of the AC, out by the Phalanaxian Periphery. It's an Avianasian world. Corvids, mostly. We were defending it against constant attacks by the Empire, since it was near the demilitarized zone on the border. The Phalanaxians had a destroyer and several other vessels in orbit that were pummeling the cities of Setari 3."

"Anyway," Ethreel continued. "This destroyer was full of anti-ship weapons, and none of the CT pilots could reach it. So, they turned to us. The scans of the ship showed a structural weak point in the upper side of the hull. Our mission was to jump from a ship just outside of weapons range, and then burn the thrusters on our suits until we made it to the destroyer. Exoinfantry suits are usually too small of a target for anti-ship weapons, and the only way we could make it over."

He went on. "So we jumped, me and five other 'Prassadi. We all made it, landed on the side of the ship, and marched over to the weak point, where we attached a series of explosive charges set to a timer. Then we jumped out, and made our way back to our parent ship."

"What happened after that?" Se'vaal eagerly asked. He always loved to hear war stories from the more experienced 'Prassadi officers.

"Well, I didn't make it back, as after I powered off the gravity-enhancers on my boots and lifted off, a chunk of space rock or some kind of debris smacked into my thruster pack and blew it offline. Plus, the drag form the impact degraded my orbit and I started to fall toward the planet. We were only a few hundred kilometers up at this point."

"Mmm-hmm." Se'vaal mumbled as he envisioned the scene.

"So I was tumbling toward the planet's atmosphere, without any means of controlling my fall, knowing full well that while my suit could handle a lot of damage, an uncontrolled atmospheric entry was far beyond it's capabilities. Figuring that there was no way out of it, I began to activate the Kill Procedure and prepare for the worst as the first flames began to appear in front of me."

The mention of the Vul'Prassadi Kill Procedure caused Se'vaal to gulp with anxiety. There was a circuit that existed in the headset of every Vul'Prassad soldier that contained the protocols for the "Kill Procedure", which was only to be activated in cases where certain death was imminent. Despite the name, the procedure did not actually kill the individual. Instead, it activated a cascade of neurotransmitters such as GABA, endorphins, endocannibinoids and dopamine to calm and sedate the soldier to give them a painless and humane death.

"Just as I activated the Procedure and everything started to kick in, I saw the ship appear in my headset's scanners. I saw it for a moment before the flames engulfed my suit. It was a CT ship, flown by one of the Altaurian pilots. He radioed to me 'Hey Buddy! I'll get you out of this!" I tried to wave to him to let him know I heard him, but then the Kill Procedure caused me to black out. When I woke up, I was inside his ship. My headset stopped the the process when it realized I wasn't in danger."

Se'vaal was impressed. "Wow, that's incredible! How do you think he was able to rescue you?"

"The closest I have been able to figure out is that he managed to place his ship underneath me to divert the blast from the heat of atmospheric entry. His ship had an airlock on the top side of its hull. He had to have suited up, programmed his ship to slowly drift up toward me, leaned out of the airlock and pulled me in, all while being surrounded by incredible temperatures. I'll tell you, those Altaurians are incredible pilots. They saved my life." Lt. Ethreel finished his story, which left Se'vaal with much to contemplate.

This helped to alleviate some of the anxiety that Se'vaal was having about the Altaurians. He had not yet developed the austerity and lack of the basic enjoyments of life that the more experienced Setted 'Prassadi all exhibited. Perhaps the people of Altaura, though capable soldiers, had something that his fellow fox soldiers lacked. He would soon find out.

Not long after, the exoinfantry unit departed from the transport ship to their stop on a small space station orbiting an uninhabited planet near the border of the Periphery and the interior of AC space. This left Se'vaal alone with his thoughts and anxieties again for the final day of his journey to the planet of the flying cows, as he called it in his head. He hoped that he would encounter people like the pilot in Lt. Ethreel's story. In a day's time, Se'vaal would meet them for himself.

The Califeron Teseretz's report on the climate of Altaura was quite accurate, Se'vaal mused as his transport ship hit a particularly rough patch of troposphere after the initial entry of the planet's outer atmosphere. The season in this part of the hemisphere was spring, which meant an excruciatingly turbulent flight to the base. Located on the leeward side of a particularly tall coastal mountain range, the CT facility where Se'vaal would call home for the next year was situated on a massive flat plain that was kicking up large supercell storms across its vast expanse.

In an attempt to both get more used to his new cybernetic headset and to calm his stomach, Se'vaal figured out how to set a cascade of certain neurotransmitters to activate his body's endocannabinoid system and alleviate his nausea. Fortunately, unlike his incident with his internal clock a few days prior, he was able to find the setting in his new mental repository. As the cascade of biochemicals flooded through his system, Se'vaal prepared himself for his first encounter with these new bovine people.

The great plains below him began to give way to dry rolling hills as his ship sped toward its destination. These hills began to get more jagged and eroded as their elevation increased, turning into a vast belt of strikingly colored badlands that skirted a large high plateau covered in mesas, as well as the majority of the population in the area of the city of Verosha. Se'vaal could see the large city off in the distance, where the plateau met the tall coastal mountains keeping most of the sparse ocean's water from reaching the continental interior.

Verosha was a strange city to view from a distance. While most cities are built with their population centers along a river, Verosha was oriented along the foothills of the coastal mountains. Instead of metal and glass skyscrapers, the tall buildings of this city were built into the sheer cliffs at the edges of the steep mountains. The buildings of the city were made of earth and ceramics, no doubt to protect against the severe weather changes on the world.

Following the local air traffic laws, the Vul'Prassad ship circled over Verosha, and then proceeded to head back out toward the plateau and the badlands. Sitting atop the edge of the plateau was the expansive airbase that Se'vaal would be calling home for the next year. The fox was surprised at the size of the base. Five runway complexes and hundreds of various sized landing pads dotted the grasslands, with some running right up to the edge of the highly eroded badlands.

Landing on a large pad at the edge of the eastern portion of the base, the large, nearly empty Vul'Prassad ship set down, and opened the large rear door that was designed to offload hundreds of troops. Feeling nervous and unsure of himself in the empty hold of the cavernous ship, he felt a blast of hot dry air wash over him as the atmosphere of Altaura rushed inside. This was soon followed by the bright sunlight of the near-desert climate. Se'vaal adjusted his headset to accommodate the severe change in brightness, as well as the difference in wavelengths of light between Altaura's sun and Prassadia's.

Once he momentarily adjusted himself to the new world, Se'vaal walked down the ship's exit ramp and onto the tarmac. The fox was surprised to find that there was no one waiting for him, as was usually the case when a CT officer changed a planetary assignment. With no one to meet him and no instructions, Se'vaal slung his bags over his shoulders and set foot across the vast and unfamiliar base to find his commanding officer, Admiral Mektar Ullan. The hot dry unforgiving wind blasted him as he trudged across numerous runways and landing pads toward the central control area for the base. Several tall control towers jutted up from the flat expanse, surrounded by a large series of buildings that Se'vaal assumed to be where he intended to report in.

Unfortunately, these buildings were several kilometers away, with nothing between them and Se'vaal except a series of dangerous active landing zones and hot wind. Had they known that he was due to report in today? CT bases were not usually this unprofessional, Se'vaal grumbled to himself. If this experience was any indication of how his time here would go, he was in for a rough year. With his spirits falling, Se'vaal carried on toward the center of the base.

Se'vaal's doubtful reverie was soon interrupted by the buzzing sound of a small craft above him, and the bright light that it splashed across him. A loud pop of static burst from the craft as it turned its loudspeakers on.

"You!" The pilot of the craft announced through his ship's external speakers. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Se'vaal shielded his eyes from the craft's bright searchlight. He tried to yell back, but the small ship's engines drowned out his voice.

"You can't be walking through here! What are you doing?" The pilot yelled again.

Se'vaal tried to reply, but was again drowned out. The craft landed in front of him, and idled its engines. The pilot came out with a directed-energy pistol pointed at the Vul'Prassad officer.

"I'll ask you again, what are you doing out here on the runway? Only authorized personnel are allowed onto the landing area. We have a flight of ships coming in from Lelresh 2 that are going to be landing on this runway in ten minutes!"

The pilot, a tall and very imposing and muscular brown Bovinasian wearing the uniform of the CT's Military Police ran out of the craft and grabbed the confused vulpine, carrying him back to the patrol craft. Once they had strapped in and the vehicle shot off the ground, they maneuvered to a safe location so that the pilot could figure out what this strange fox was doing out on the runway.

"Okay kid, who are you and what were you doing out there?" The pilot asked menacingly.

"I am Cadet Se'vaal Terken, and I was assigned here for the Vul'Prassad Officer Training Program." He exclaimed indignantly, "I was supposed to report to Admiral Ullan when I touched down, but there was no one here to meet me. I decided to walk toward the control towers at the center of the base to find someone." He began modulating the emotional centers of his brain to control his rising sense of anger.

The pilot frowned, and began to work the computer console next to his craft's controls. "It says here that your ship was to arrive at 1500 hours. It is 1300 hours, your ship landed two hours early."

"Well," Se'vaal replied, "The Vul'Prassad are a punctual people. Besides, I don't have control over the arrival time of my transport ship."

"Yeah, well, two hours early is not my definition of punctual." Came the pilot's reply. "No matter. Everything appears to check out, so let's get you to Admiral Ullan and off of this runway before you get yourself killed."

They quickly flew toward the towers as fifteen sleek CT fighter craft streaked down out of the clear sky and onto the same runway that Se'vaal was standing on just minutes before. "Are you supposed to be some kind of pilot?" The Bovinasian asked Se'vaal. "Because if you are, you should damn well know better than to walk around on an active runway."

They landed in front of the main command building, a giant metal and earthen structure that proudly displayed the insignia of the Anasian Confederation, the Califeron Teseretz, and that of the planet itself. Se'vaal, chastised and feeling sheepish, quietly thanked the officer as he left the patrol craft and walked toward the building.

Opening the large stone doors, he found himself in a large area very unlike the lobbies of most CT bases. The large room was empty, aside from a dark corridor at the opposite end that Se'vaal assumed lead to the command center of the base. Seeing no other option, he walked down the long corridor. It inclined downward and bent to continuously curve to the right as he ventured further.

It quickly dawned on Se'vaal as he continued downward that this was the first time he had been in a subterranean environment. After years in space and the surface of Prassadia, the ever-darkening confines of this hallway were causing him to experience a nasty case of claustrophobia. He continued to adjust the settings on his headset to compensate, but no matter what he did, his expanding sense of anxiety and isolation continued to grow.

Finally, there was a literal light at the end of the tunnel, where he found a large steel door with a complicated security scanning device in front of it. Operating this station were three severe-looking Bovinasian MPs, who all dropped what they were doing and stared at him as he entered the chamber.

"I am Cadet Se'vaal Terkren." He introduced himself. "I am here to report to Admrial Ullan for duty. This was arranged with the Vul'Prassad Command."

"I see," replied the security officer as he verified this on his console. "Very well. Cadet Terkren. Everything checks out. Walk through the scanner, please."

Se'vaal was relieved to hear that at least someone on this world knew who he was and seemed to be expecting him. This helped to alleviate some of his discontent, and he was able to lessen the neural-modulation of his headset a bit. He walked through the security scanner, and into a labyrinthine series of dimly lit corridors and rooms. The guard pointed to the end of the hall. Se'vaal nodded, and proceeded to the large door that was there.

Upon entering the room, Se'vaal noticed a group of uniformed bovines standing around a large wooden desk, behind which sat a large, grizzled and graying Bovinasian with horns much larger than those he had seen on any Bovinasian so far. He felt a little intimidated as he entered the room, and, like the Military Police before, the group of officers stopped their tasks and stared at him.

Finally, the large bovine spoke, with a booming voice that filled the immense underground office.

"Cadet Se'vaal Terkren?" He demanded.

"Yes sir!" Se'vaal replied.

"We are glad you could join us," Admiral Ullan continued, "especially after your little adventure on our runways!"

Se'vaal felt his stomach drop. His near-panic returned, and he ramped up the modulation of his neurotransmitters.

"Are you aware, Cadet," The Admiral went on, "that your little escapade out there backed up the military traffic to this base? We had three convoys of supplies that had to be delayed for refueling after they got caught waiting for too long in orbit!"

Despite his headset's manipulation of his brain's emotional chemistry, Se'vaal became indignant.

"Sir!" He began, "With all due respect, when my transport landed, there was no one there to meet me. I received no briefing, and no orders. I was picked up by one of your MPs because I had no choice but to walk toward the base!"

"That's no excuse for poor judgement!"

"Sir, I am trying to report for duty."

The Admiral let out a large belly laugh that Se'vaal was unaccustomed to. "You Vul'Prassad... Ugh. Very well. Welcome to CT-1857, Cadet. We will show you your quarters and deliver your briefing to you there."

"I, ah, okay." Se'vaal replied. "Thank you sir."

"Sergeant Puell will show you where you'll be staying with us. Follow him." Admiral Ullan pointed to a dull looking Bovinasian standing in the corner. "Puell, take him to his quarters."

The Sergeant started at the Admiral for a second and then slowly walked to Se'vaal. "This way." he told the fox.

As they began to leave, the Admiral stopped them abruptly. "Oh. Wait a moment, Cadet."

Se'vaal stopped, and turned to face the Admiral. "I can't have you piloting our ships holding the rank of Cadet. Here." He tossed a small metallic pin at him. When he caught the trinket, he noticed that it was the rank insignia of a Third Lieutenant in the Califeron Teseretz. Se'vaal had waited years to finally receive his promotion to a full officer. He was disturbed to see it presented to him in such a disrespectful and anticlimactic way. What did these people have against him?

"Congratulations, Lieutenant. You are dismissed."

Mumbling a quick thank you, Se'vaal and the dopey-looking Sergeant left the room and began to navigate the confusing underground structure. The slow pace of the Bovinasian, plus the fact that he was constantly chewing something in his mouth began to eat away at Se'vaal's patience. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, they finally stopped at the entrance to a lift at the end of one of the winding hallways.

The lift doors opened, and they stepped inside. Sergeant Puell pointed upward, and pressed a button on the elevator's panel. Soon they began moving, and Se'vaal started feeling claustrophobic again. They were traveling some distance upward, as the time seemed to dilate for the fox. His bionically augmented triangular ears were picking up every vibration of the lift car, every breath emitted by the two of them and most infuriatingly, every sloppy chewing motion of the cow's jaw.

Finally, Se'vaal could take no more. He turned to the Bovinasian, and broke the verbal silence with a simple question.

"What are you chewing?" He asked the cow.

Sergeant Puell slowly side-eyed the fox, and began to turn his head in his direction. He smirked, and slowly bent down to meet the fox face-to face.

"Cud." Came the reply.

The fox looked at him with a confused expression. "Cud? What the hell is cud?" He asked.

Rolling his eyes, he opened his mouth, revealing a wad of sticky, partially digested plant matter that filled the confined space with the sour smell of rancid grass and bacteria that turned Se'vaal's stomach.

"I'm sorry I asked..." The fox managed to mutter as the doors of the lift mercifully opened, and released them and the cloud of hateful odor out into the corridor ahead of them.

"This way." The Sergeant ordered. The came to a nondescript door in the hall and entered the room. Inside was a fairly simple apartment, with a single bedroom, restroom, kitchen, and a living area that contained a wall that featured a giant curtainless window that offered a mesmerizing view across the badlands and onto the vast continental plain with it's violent weather patterns.

After dropping Se'vaal's bags in the room's entryway, Sergeant Puell silently walked past him toward the window overlooking the plain. The window had a feature in its center that allowed a person to open a glass panel in the window. The slow Sergeant opened the window, and stood before it, raising his arms and inhaling the dry wind that flowed into the room deeply. He stood before the window, reverently looking over the scene, mumbling phrases that Se'vaal could not understand before he bowed and closed the window.

Normally, Se'vaal would have been at least mildly curious as to what all of that was about, but after the Sergeant's disgusting display on the elevator, not to mention the disrespect that he had been shown by everyone during his short time on Altaura, Se'vaal just wanted to turn on his headset's sleep-cycle and go to bed.

One Standard Celestial Year to go...