Triad's Sci-fi Furry Book, Chapter One (Draft)
Triad's Sci-Fi Furry Book (no working title as of yet)
Chapter One:
He awoke with a start. The normally blissful awakening, the usual slow onset of consciousness intermingled with the soporific peace of the hypnagogic state, was completely absent. His muscles twitched and his palms were covered in sweat. Something had happened the previous night. But what? Groaning, he pulled himself from under the covers. These were his covers, right? He shook his head and looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place. There was a pile of clothes on the floor from the night before. The book he had been reading was on the night stand. Everything seemed to be in order, so why this strange feeling? What had gone on? As he thought that, a wave of intense heat and broken glass knocked him to the floor. Panicked, and not completely awake, he crawled across the room to the door. It had been knocked over by the blast, and he crawled over it and made his way into the hallway outside. Propped up against the wall, he looked around him and tried to see what was happening. An acrid chemical odor and a thick blanket of smoke filled the hallway, while panicked cries surrounded him. "What the fuck was that?" Yelled one. "I'll bet it's the damned ZLA again." came the response. The ZLA? This sounded familiar, but it just wasn't registering. Perhaps they were responsible. Whomever they were. Hmm, maybe if I lay down and rest, I'll figure this out, he thought. He slumped over on his side, and fell out into the middle of the hallway. He felt a trickle of warmth drip over his eyes, then a sharp pain in his back. "What the hell?" Came a voice above him. "Hey! Hey! Someone come over here! We've got wounded!" The voice, a masculine one, yelled. He was joined by two others. "Who is it?" Asked another. "I don't know." replied the first, "His face is covered in blood, and he doesn't have a uniform on." "Alright, well, let's get him out of here. We need to get everyone out before this place burns down." He was lifted up by his shoulders, and carried out of the building through a flight of stairs and another smoke filled hallway. He faintly noticed that there were others running around frantically, but nothing registered. Finally, he was carried out in front of the building, and was set down on the grass. His counterparts scurried about him, one wiping wetness from his face, others talking to others. He had no idea what was going on. He was groggy, he had a terrible headache, and he was very, very tired. Finally, his vision faded to black, and unconsciousness was returned to him..
Grey smoke obscured the blue subtropical sky over the angular steel buildings of the millitary base. One of these buildings had a monstrous hole in it's northeast side, with flames billowing out of it. The field around the building, usually full of only grass, and the ocasional tree, was now full of fox-people, and their various machines, attempting to put out fires and tend to the wounded. Part of a vast organization of diverse peoples and planets, this millitary base served as an embassy of this organization, called the Anasian Confederation (or A.C.), to the planet Vulpon, upon which it resides. The planet is a moderately sized, has three major continents, and is populated by a species known as Vulpinasians, or, more simply, human-like fox people. They in turn are part of a larger, and more diverse group of sentient humanoid mamillians, known as anasians. The Califeron Teseretz (or C.T.), which is an old anasian phrase meaning "forceful peace", is the Anasian Confederation's armed forces. On the planet Vulpon, they maintain the base CT-6284, located about 50 miles northwest of the Teucetya metroplex, a city of 16 million inhabitants from various planets, and the largest on Vulpon. CT-6284 was usually a fairly peaceful place; tranquil, well defended, and just outside the chaos that was Teucetya. It is home to the CT's 32nd Specialized Assault Division, which generally provided the countries and feudal houses of Vulpon defense from off-planet attack. Today, however, it seems the unrest recently brewed in the metropolis has boiled over into the valley containing the base. Unknown assailants have destroyed the base's officer's quarters, leading to the injury of dozens.
One of these injured was Captain Brian "Triad" Kithanda. No one at that point knew who he was, since he was wearing only his CT-Issued grey workout shorts, and his face was covered in thick, congealing blood. His matted orange fur was caked in the stuff. All of his belongings were in the burning building, including his identification cards. This didn't matter to him, however, because he was unconscious. In fact, he was dreaming he was far from the scene, instead walking through a hot, dry desert. He could feel his bare feet seared by the hot sand, his orange fur-covered skin baking in the furnace-like sun. He was parched and dehydrated, but his mind was disconnected from his body. This didn't matter, though. He had something to find, and he would look for it for eternity if necessary, carrying on in this hot, lonely desert. On the horizon, he saw another fox like himself approaching. He couldn't see its face, but he felt it was someone he knew. Strange, he thought, that someone familiar to me should be out here with me. Before he got a look at the approaching fox's face, he was startled by a bright white light that blinded him. He opened his eyes, and looked around. He was laying on a cold, metallic surface. The room was covered in a light blue tile, and filled with various metallic instruments that looked ominous. Standing above him was another vulpinasian, muzzle covered in a surgical mask. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and he appeared to triad to be smiling under the mask. "You got yourself quite a nasty gash there," the fox said gently, "filled with broken glass. Fortunately, we've got you all fixed up. You were lucky. Others in the blast were burned beyond recognition. You just have a few singed hairs. You should be ready for duty again in no time." Triad groaned. Couldn't the doctor have revived him a moment later? "Thanks." He mumbled, and tried to remember his dream. "You're welcome. I recommend you take a few days of leave, and get some rest. In case your head gives you any trouble, come by and I'll check you out." The doctor said. "Thanks, I will." Said triad. "Do you know what time it is?" "You've been unconscious for over forty-eight hours. The attack was on Wednesday morning, it's now Friday evening." Replied the doc. Triad got up off the table, stood up and stretched. He had been out for a long time, and was rather stiff. He looked down at himself, and realized he was naked. Slightly embarrassed, he asked the doctor if he knew where his clothes were. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but all of your articles of clothing, identification, and personal belongings that were in your quarters got destroyed in the blast." "Oh shit." Triad groaned, and felt his stomach drop. He sat back down and put his hand to his head. He felt a sharp stinging, and realized that he had placed his hand on his wound. The doctor handed him a hospital gown and gave him a sheet of paper. "You can clothe yourself in this. Take this sheet of paper to the desk downstairs. The receptionist will give you a couple sets of exercise clothes for you to wear until you are issued a new uniform." Triad put on the gown and took the sheet of paper and walked out of the room, thanking the doctor once more as he left. He felt disoriented walking down the hall, probably a residual effect of the anesthetic he was given. He groggily made his way through the white painted hallways and stairs until he found the main receptionist's desk. The receptionist was a young female lieutenant. Staff must be short, since officers never worked jobs like this. "Can I help you?" She asked triad. "Um. Yeah. I'm, uh, Captain Brian Kithanda, and I need some clothes." He slurred. The anesthetic had not completely worn off yet. She pointed at the form the doctor had given him. "May I see that please?" She asked. "Oh, yeah." Triad replied, handing her the paperwork. She looked it over, and retreated into a room in the back. Triad looked around him, noting the small, bland looking waiting room. Over in a corner sat an officer with his face bandaged up, and his arm in a sling. What happened? He asked himself. "Okay, here you go. Just sign this form here, and you'll be on your way. You can change in the restroom over there" The receptionist returned with an armful of clothing, nodding her head to Triad's left. He signed the form, changed, and left the hospital.
It was a brisk early spring day at CT-6284. The clothes he had on were standard issue workout clothing, not made for cold weather. He began shivering violently. An enlisted officer wearing the same outfit, but with a bandage over his right eye, was smoking a cigarette. Triad went over and bummed on off of him. Triad thanked him and started walking aimlessly. He couldn't return to his quarters to rest, as the doctor said he could. He had no money, and nowhere to go. He was confused, and depressed. Everything he owned, books, crystal information discs with a painstaking collection of music and art, and a couple of treasured items from his childhood he had kept were all gone. What had he done to deserve this? As he walked along one of the base's main roads towards the Parade Ground, he was startled by the honking of an H-car behind him. The car swiftly sailed toward him, it's hoverdrive humming loudly. Next to him, it stopped. The driver opened the sliding door of the car on triad's side. He was a fully uniformed officer, apparently a Colonel. "You need a lift?" He asked Triad. "Uh, yeah, sure." Triad replied. He entered the small vehicle and strapped himself in. It was cold outside, and he was relieved to feel the warm air from the vents blowing across his fur. "I take it you're Captain kithanda, am I correct?" The driver, an older Vulpinasian with silver fur and an off-planet accent asked. "Yes sir, I am." Triad replied. "Very good." The Driver replied, "I'm Colonel Taral. Captain, as you know, this base was attacked by a gang of terrorists. They completely destroyed the Officer's Barracks, which I believe you resided in. Is this correct?" "Yes sir, it is. I'm not too sure what happened actually, I-" "Well unfortunately," Taral interjected, "the attack severely crippled this unit's Command structure. During the attack, the base Commander, Admiral-one Lekbam, was killed, along with his assistant base commander, Colonel Cethda. Along with this, several other senior base personnel were either killed or rendered of no use to the CT. Due to the war with the Phalanaxians, all other high ranking personnel were taken from this unit. I'm sure you are aware of what a strain this has been on the unit overall." Triad looked perplexed. "I had no idea that-" Colonel Taral interrupted Triad again. "I was sent here yesterday evening from the regional HQ on Vulpinasia. My orders were to review the records of the highest ranked remaining officers, and choose a suitable assistant for myself." "For yourself, sir? What do you mean?" Triad asked. "As of three hours ago, I became the commander of this base, by order of Admiral-five Valkal, Senior Sector Commandant on Vulpinasia. There were no suitable living officers on base experienced enough to take command. I was called in to do so." "Wow. I'm sorry sir, but this can't be right. All of the commanding officers were killed?" Triad asked, finally able to finish a thought. "That is correct." Taral continues, as if he were giving a speech, "Apparently they were gathered in the Quarters of Major Alvart. They were playing cards and drinking. Even the Admiral. The missiles that were targeted at the building exploded in the upper levels, where the Command staff lived. We aren't sure how the terrorist group knew the location of the Command Staff, I suspect someone in the 32nd had been leaking information. A full investigation on that is being run at the moment by my staff as well." Triad couldn't believe all this. Something about this was very wrong, but he couldn't figure out what.. "I'm having a hard time believing all this sir. it's a lot to take in. Hell, all I remember about the attack was me waking up, and getting knocked down again by the blast. This was in the morning. What were the commanding officers doing drinking and playing card games early in the morning?" "That's what we want to know. My investigation team is working that out right now.' Replied the Colonel. Triad nodded, although he was still very confused. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, where are we going?" "You and I are going to the Main hall of the base." The colonel began, "First we're going to get you a new uniform. As I mentioned earlier, I will need to find a new command staff. Since Many units in the Vulpinasian region are fighting in the war on the other side of the AC, I am required to build a new command staff for this unit, using the most qualified remaining officers. This has not been an easy task. After reviewing the records of the remaining officers, You and two other Captains were chosen to help run this base, at least until we can get more experienced officers from off-planet." Triad, still mildly drugged, was not able to believe this. This was way too strange. Sure, he had a decent service record, but nothing exemplary. Even on the mission that made him a "hero" he hadn't done a great deal. Were there no other higher ranking officers? Not even a Major? And why were all the commanding officers together, at once? Much less early in the morning? None of this was adding up. And now he was being considered to help run the base? He hadn't even been out of the hospital for more than a half-hour. This is too strange, he thought. Something was up. They arrived at the Main Hall of the base, which was the hub of administrative activities. it was a five-story tall office building, with a dome on the top. On the other two sides of it were two taller buildings connected by an above ground tunnel. These were residential and recreational buildings. The H-Car hovered to the front of the building, let down its landing skids, and parked. The two officers got out, and walked up the steps to the main entrance. Upon entering, they were scanned by a burly security officer, and let inside. The center of the hall was a tall open space that went up to the domed ceiling, Above them were walkways connecting the offices on either side together. Draped from the walkways were various AC and CT flags, many of which displayed the unit's honors since it was created. The place was buzzing with various activity, no doubt due to the recent attacks and subsequent command restructuring. Triad and Colonel Taral walked over to a lift that took them up to the top floor of the building. From there they walked to a large office with the name "Admiral Lekbam" written on the front of it on an imitation gold plaque. Colonel Taral sat behind the desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out some paperwork and handed it to Triad. "Captain Kithanda," Taral said, "you have been chosen along with Captain James Hoffman and Captain Marissa Kluege as our most suitable officers to help me run this base. Since, however, my assistant, by CT regulations, cannot be ranked captain, one of you must be promoted. Also, regulations state that a permanent Base Commander must be ranked admiral, I will either be promoted, or replaced by an Admiral. Since the CT is in dire need of experienced Admiralty, I'm assuming that I will be promoted." "Because of your record in the Markarranth war, and your experiences leading soldiers in the Vulpon war for the Kithanda Government, we've decided to promote you to Major. You will be moved from your current assignment assisting the now incapacitated Major Rendall with assault vehicle operations to your new assignment as assistant base commander. This promotion is only temporary, of course. Should a more suitable replacement be found off-planet that can be spared, they will replace you. Conversely, if none can be found, and I am myself promoted to Admiral, you will promoted again to Colonel." This was too much for Triad to take. "But sir," he protested, "there must be some mistake. Isn't Captain Hoffman more experienced than I am? He's ten years older than me, and has more time as a Captain. I was only promoted to Captain six months ago after my ordeal in the Seperationist prison camp. I'm pretty sure that was mainly out of pity. All of us that were there were promoted. Hell, even Sergeant Omnifox was made an officer, being promoted to Third-lieutenant. I appreciate the offer, sir, but I'm not sure I can deal with it right now." "Captain Hoffman was not permitted to serve in the Markarranth conflict due to disciplinary action. He has remained a captain for the last five years because of his problem with obeying orders. He also refused the job when we offered it to him. Captain Kleuge was promoted to captain only two months ago. While she is an outstanding officer, she does not have as much experience as you do. We don't have another option. "Captain, this kind of chance only comes around once in a career, if even at all. Not many officers of your age are able to ascend the ranks so fast. This is a rare opportunity, and I can guarantee that you will not have another." Colonel Taral sat back in the chair, and folded his arms against his chest. "So what do you say?" Triad thought about it for a second. This entire situation made no sense. If I didn't know any better, he thought, I think I'm in a dream. I'm still laying in that bed in the hospital under anesthesia, with that doctor removing glass from my forehead. This is like some twisted fantasy. Oh well, if it is a fantasy, I might as well go along with it. Hell, I'm talking to a Colonel I've never seen before in the base commander's office in workout clothing. This can't be real... "Very well sir." Triad replied, "I'll accept your offer. This is all very sudden, and I'm still worn out from my stay in the hospital. I might need a few days of rest, the doctor told me." "Understandable. I have a uniform for you, and we were able to partition off a section of Hangar B for use as a temporary housing area for the officers, until other arrangements can be found." The Colonel said. He got out of the chair and walked over to the coat closet, and pulled out a fresh uniform for Triad, complete with the insignia for the rank of Major on the epaulets. Triad wondered how much of this had already been planned out. "Here's your new uniform, Major." The colonel, for the first time in the two hours that Triad had known him, smiled. Triad smiled back, and thanked him. "I'll drive you over to the hangar and get you set up with a cot and a locker. Eventually, I'll be able to get you the rest of the gear you need, since I understand you lost all your prior stuff in the fire. You will also be re-issued your identification card." Triad got up, and, actually feeling somewhat good about things for the first time since this whole strange and terrible situation had begun, followed the Colonel back through the main hall and out to the H-Car. Once he got in, though, he was hit with the terrible realization that he was in way over his head. He did not have the command experience or maturity to help run the entire base. In fact, his command experience was terribly limited. This was real, without a doubt, and there was no going back now. He'd have to adjust. What the hell just happened? They rode in silence for several minutes. Eventually they pulled up to the Hangar that had been turned into a makeshift shelter. Triad got out, and turned to the Colonel. "Thank you sir, I'll try to do my best." "You will do your best, Major. Have a good evening." Taral replied. He shut the door and drove back to the Main Hall. Triad watched him drive away until the H-car disappeared. Assistant Base commander. Because everyone else is dead. Because everyone was in the same room at the same time. While the ZLA or whoever they were managed to actually hit their target for once. In fact, they had never once hit anything of any importance in the two months since they began launching missiles at the base. This was not right. Something bizarre was going on, Triad thought, and it cost the lives of a lot of vulpinasians. A paranoid suspicion began to take hold of him He shook himself out of it, and walked into the Hangar. Paranoid speculation could come later; right now he needed food and a place to sleep.
Three days later, Triad found out two very important things. The first was that this new situation was not a dream. The second was that he had just been dealt a very sore deal. Colonel Taral had left the Planet. He had been called to the war. His replacement was not due to arrive for another week. This meant that he, Triad, was in command of the expansive base. He was twenty-two years old, and had little command experience. Not only that, the entire base was in disarray. It's command structure was gone, one of its largest buildings was in shambles, and there was work to be done. He had no idea what to do. The day was like any other day in CT-6284. The air was crisp and the sun was warm. Triad was asleep at the desk which had once briefly belonged to Colonel Taral. He was laying his head on a pile of papers that had built up. Medical leave forms, orders for supplies that wouldn't come, damage reports. He didn't know what to do with any of this, so he got up, rubbed his forehead, and walked down the hall to a desk with a young female vulpinasian. Her nametag on her uniform said Sergeant Jill Cray. "Hey, uh, listen. I hate to bother you, but there's a ton of paperwork on my desk that needs to be done. You used to be the Admiral's secretary?" Triad asked. "Um, no sir. I was the secretary's secretary." Was the response. "The secretary had a secretary?" Triad asked. "Um, yes sir," Jill said, "But he's dead. Steel beam went through his head in the explosion." "Oh damnit" Triad groaned, "God damnit." He shook his head. "So they put you in charge?" She asked casually. "Yeah. I don't know why. I hate to say it, but I have no business doing this job." "Honestly, sir, I don't think anyone does. there's just no one left, and all the guys from Vulpinasia are gone." Jill said. Triad groaned. He had no help. Some insane joke of the universe had put him here. The nasty prank of some archaic trickster god, he thought. "Yeah." Jill looked at him. "You said you have paperwork? I'm not working on anything right now, I'll try to take care of as much of it as I can for you, if you have something else to do." Triad looked relieved. "Oh thank you. That would be great. I've got to um, go look after some things." He didn't, actually. He really just wanted to get away from the office. This was his first day back on duty after the accident. Nothing had been done administratively for the last three days, and, Triad guessed, not much would be done until the replacement commander arrived from Vulpinasia. He'd try to get done as much as he could, but before the accident he had been the third-in-command of the Armored vehicle division, which by its self had little administrative duties. He spent his day either sitting behind a desk reading, or out in the field on patrol around the base perimeter in a hovertank. He was not used to paperwork. He never filled any out. The lower level of the Main Hall had a small cafeteria in it. Triad decided that he'd go get something to eat, then make himself look busy while he figured out what he was going to do. He got himself Vulpon's version of coffee, Khet-yuang, made from a plant that had stimulating and slightly euphoric properties. Sitting down at a nearby table, he was soon joined by two other officers who did not appear to be in the best of moods. One of them, one of the unit's few Lupinasians (wolf-like anasians) sat down and stared directly at Triad for several seconds. His friend did the same. "Can I help you with something?" Triad asked tiredly. "Yeah," the Lupinasian began, "when are you going to fix the Officer's Building? Some of us are pretty tired of sleeping on the cots in the hangar." "When we get the next shipment of supplies in." Triad said, "We're going to be getting a new commander then, you can run it by him when he arrives." "Sir," the other one, a young Vulpinasian with off-planet facial features, said, "We have enough supplies in our warehouses to at least rebuild half of it immediately. This would free up enough space in the hangar to move several aircraft back in." "Do we have enough engineers to build it?" Triad asked. "Uh, no sir," the young fox began, "We don't. But we do have a hangar full of officers who would be more than happy to assist." Triad thought about it for a second, then said, "Well, I don' t know if there's a regulation or anything against this, but I'll give you the go ahead." "Thank you sir!" The two officers said, almost in unison. They got up from the table, and walked quickly out of the room. Triad felt a little bit better. This was his first real administrative decision, and it seemed to go well. He hoped it would improve morale. Unfortunately, what he didn't know was that there was a regulation against rebuilding a structure that was a target of an attack, before it had been investigated.
Two months later, and six weeks late, the ships from Vulpinasia returned. They did not have supplies, and they did not have replacement officers. Triad found this out the hard way, which seemed to be the way he had spent the last two months learning how to operate a CT base. He had been standing out on the tarmac, overseeing a small group of officers and enlisted men who were running mechanical repairs on two of the base's light attack aircraft. He had not slept in three days, and was dozing off while he stood. He was startled into wakefulness when the loud roar of two large troop transports was heard directly above him. An aide of his was approaching in a hovercar. The car stopped next to him and his former secretary, now aide, Sergeant Jill Cray, got out. She looked extremely worried. "Sir! These two ships are from Vulpanasia. They didn't announce themselves until they were a mile overhead. I got here as quick as I could. I don't think they're the ships we've been waiting on." Triad's face soon mirrored Jill's. "Do you know why they're here?" "No." was her reply. Triad thought about it for a second. He didn't have enough time to think further, because the ships landed. Immediately, large metal doors on the sides and rear of the craft opened, releasing a flood of fully armed and armored CT soldiers, followed by a dozen high ranking officers. Three of them were Admirals. "Triad, what's going on?" Jill asked, her voice quavering with anxiety. "I don't know." The officers who were working on the aircraft dropped their tools and watched the armed soldiers approach. None of them were armed with more than a wrench, though it wouldn't matter much if they did have guns. Each one of these approaching soldiers had enough firepower on them to reduce the small group and their aircraft to ashes. They just stood next to Triad and Jill, and waited. The mass of soldiers, all Vulpinasian, quickly surrounded them. They all aimed their weapons at the group of the 32nd officers, and scowled menacingly, like any primitive creature does order to assert its dominance. In front of Triad, the rank and file of the soldiers was broken by the 12 officers, led by the three Admirals. The highest ranking one, Admiral-four Aechmar, walked right up to Triad and stood in front of him. He was very short, and the top of his head reached Triad's shoulder. Still, his height did not make Triad any less intimidated. "Acting Admiral Kithanda, I presume?" "Acting admiral? I'm a ma-" "Be quiet. you will not speak unless addressed directly by me." The admiral told him. "I'm sorry." was Triad's reply. He stared at the admiral. "You are in command of this base, correct?" Aechmar barked. "Yes sir. I was supposed to be the assistant base commander until Colonel Taral disappeared." "Very well then. Do you mind explaining yourself?" The Admiral asked. "I'm sorry sir, I don't know what you mean." Triad answered. The Admiral snapped his fingers. One of the Soldiers next to him handed him an electronic pad. The admiral handed the pad to Triad. "This is an order from Sector Command. It states that you rebuilt the destroyed Officer's barracks without permission. Command was not able to investigate. What is your explanation for this? You ordered it rebuilt." Any intimidation that Triad had was soon replaced with anger. "Most of our staff was made homeless by the attack. Myself included. We were living in a hangar next to aircraft and utility trucks. There was absolutely nothing left of the building but a pile of rubble. How could you investigate it? We all know what happened. It was destroyed by a missile." "That's precisely the problem. We don't know what kind of missile it was. But apparently, if it could completely destroy a hardened CT structure like that, then we need to find out who had it." The Admiral next to Achemar told Triad. "The report said it was the ZLA, but there hasn't been any ZLA activity in the area since the attack." "So you don't think it's the ZLA?" Triad asked. "Then who was it?" "We don't know. If we could identify a remnant of the missile, then we might be able to find out who fired it." the Admiral replied. "The problem, Major," Aechmar said, distain dripping from his words, "is that you built over any chance we had to find out. Because of you, it will be extremely difficult to figure this out." Triad felt a sense of guilt, but he had no idea that he would get into trouble for rebuilding. It made more sense, he thought, to rebuild as quickly as possible. But rules were rules, even if they made no sense. No doubt, he'd probably have his rank removed, and would have to spend some time in a CT penitentiary for this. Anything that required a delegation like this probably resulted in that. But wait. There might be a way out of this. "Sir," Triad addressed Admiral Achemar, "we never disposed of the wreckage. We didn't have enough manpower at the time to completely do away with it. In fact, we only moved it about a mile or so into an unused training field in the southern edge of the base." Admiral Achemar looked at him without expression. He was a stout, almost-elderly Keitren Vulpinasian (from an outlying vulpinasian region close to the edge of anasian space, generally viewed as uncultured bumpkins by the majority of vulpinasians), who had a little flap of white fur-covered skin that dangled from his aged chin, and flapped violently whenever the Admiral spoke with what he thought of as strict authority. Triad could not stop staring at it. He soon became transfixed, until a few seconds later, when the admiral yelled, very loudly, "Well, where is it?" "In the southern part of the base, sir." Triad replied feebly. The Admiral looked at him with contempt. "You just told me that. Take me there. Now." "Yes sir." Triad replied. He motioned for the crew that had been repairing the aircraft to round up a few H-cars for the Admiral and his staff. Once the vehicles arrived, Triad and Jill lead Admiral Achemar and his staff through the large base. After passing airfields, office buildings and finally forest, they arrived at the field where a large amount of rubble from the destroyed building lay scattered about. The H-cars pulled up to the largest pile and the officers stepped out. The Admiral spoke into a throat microphone attached to the collar of his uniform, and turned to face Triad. "Thank you. That is all, you are excused." He ordered, "We require no further assistance from you or your people." Triad nodded and returned with Jill to the H-car. As they left, they noticed that the two ships had taken off from the tarmac, and were approaching them, apparently headed for the field. As they flew overhead, the massive ships shook the H-car with a loud roar, and triad nearly lost control of the vehicle. Once he regained control he returned to the tarmac to find that all of the troops that were on the two ships from Vulpinasia had been unloaded, and were standing at attention, fully armed. "What the hell?" Triad and Jill said nearly in unison. He pulled the car up to their leader, an officer he had not seen with the Admiral, a tall, slender Vulpinasian with a slightly longer than average face and cheekbones that were visible through the tan fur of his face. He had on a uniform that was different than the standard CT officer's uniform. It had the standard rank markings, which showed that this officer was a Major, and the same unit insignia that the other officers were wearing, but over his uniform he wore an odd looking robe made of light tan fabric with an ornate black crescent moon design, with the CT insignia underneath it. His most noticeable feature was the intricate and technologically advanced metallic headset that wrapped around his forehead and up over the top of his head between the ears. It ran wires from the upper portion into the ears, and had two small black wires that came out of several small sockets in the rear of the headset that ran into the neck of the fox. One of his eyes was also covered by a part of the headset that was made of a transparent green plastic.
Triad had only encountered two other vulpinasians in his life that wore headsets and uniforms like that. They were members of a race of Vulpinasians called the Vul'Prassad that were extremely isolationist. They lived in a society that balanced an ancient sense of honor and religion, and extreme scientific and technological prowess. Each individual in their society was reared from birth to have an impeccable sense of honor and abilities, and only the most skilled and advanced of the Vul'Prassad were given the headsets, which were implanted into their heads, and dramatically enhanced the Vul'Prassad's motor control, reasoning ability, senses, and gave each Vul'Prassad a telepathic link with any other that had on a similar set. Also, each headset had a small panel in the middle of the forehead area that displayed a small screen that would occasionally activate and flash various patterns of colored lines and shapes that were only decipherable to other "Setted" 'Prassad, but that caused a definite psychological reaction in any anasian who viewed them. Two thousand years prior, when the Vul'Prassad had begun altering the best and brightest of their people with the sets, a group of Setted 'Prassad discovered that the screens, aside from having the capacity of increasing communications between themselves through a visual medium as well as a vocal one, had the potential to control the thoughts and emotions of non-setted 'Prassad. This lead to a period of time where the planet was slowly taken over by the group of setted 'Prassad, who controlled and used the population for any purpose or gratification they saw fit. Once a way to bypass the psychological control the group had was found, the group was overthrown and killed. Immediately afterward, the Vul'Prassad developed a program that ingrained an intense system of "honor" in the minds of all the population from birth. Once a Vul'Prassad was deemed to be worthy of having a set implanted, the 'Prassad was put through a rigorous system of conditioning and training to ensure that they would never work against their people, or the AC, to whom the Vul'Prassad aligned themselves with. Only setted 'Prassad were allowed in the CT, and non-Setted 'Prassad rarely interacted with anyone who was not a Vul'Prassad.
Triad got out of his H-car and walked over to the 'Prassad Major. The Major looked at him without speaking. His screen displayed the usual off-color digital replication of a Vulpinasian eye that the 'Prassad generally did when the screen was not in use. It then quickly flickered, and a series of green lines flashed across the screen. They flickered again and the eye returned. "What are you doing? What the hell is all this?" Triad demanded with a sudden surge of anger that had not been there a minute before. "I have orders," the Vul'Prassad said, "to remain here with my men to ensure that the Admiral and his investigators are not interfered with." "Not interfered with by who?" Triad asked. "You." "Why me? What threat do I pose to this investigation?" "You are the one who apparently was the cause of it. I personally am surprised that you were not detained." The Vul'Prassad said. "We will remain here, or stationed around the base, to see that this is carried out properly, since you yourself have not proven to be useful in that area." Right as Triad was thinking of his rebuttal, an alarm went off around the airfield, followed by a loud order to clear the field. Immediately afterward, the loud roar of two small rockets deafened the group of soldiers and officers on the tarmac. The missiles passed only about ten feet overhead, and the force of the exhaust knocked many of them off their feet. Triad and Jill had ducked, and the Vul'Prassad had only turned around slightly to observe where the missiles had come from. He shouted an order to the soldiers to get up and spread out to defend the base, but his voice was completely drowned out by the two explosions of the missiles as they slammed into the base's control tower and communications array. Triad looked at the control tower as it disappeared in a ball of flames and came crashing down. Small pieces of burning concrete and metal rained down on them as they tried to run for cover into the woods at the opposite side of the airfield. Triad and Jill ran up to the nearest tree they could find, and hid under a large cluster of roots at its base. From there they were hidden, yet could see everything that was occurring on the airfield. They watched as the pieces of the control tower smoldered across the tarmac. They watched as the emergency vehicles sped to douse anyone leaving the building that was on fire. They also heard a series of far away explosions coming from the section of mountains on the south side of the base, close to where the missile appeared to have come from. Upon hearing these, the Vul'Prassad major rounded up his soldiers, and they ran into the forest toward the explosions. Seconds later, the sky was filled with dozens of small loud projectiles, screaming their way toward the ground. Once they found it, the air erupted into fire, and a deafening roar knocked everyone who was working by what was once the control tower to their knees. The airfield was abuzz with emergency vehicles, soldiers, mechanics, and several pilots trying desperately to taxi out onto the tarmac amidst the chaos. Three light-assault ships and one light bomber had been activated automatically once the first missiles hit, idling until they received a pilot. Once they did, and were in the air, they flew into the mountains in the same direction the Vul'Prassad's units went. Nearly two hours followed where the inhabitants of the base waited in harsh anxiety while they tended the wounded, catalogued the dead, put out fires and nervously watched the mountains. Suddenly, the two large troop carriers that had been moved to the field that held the wreckage of the officer's barracks flew over the airfield from the south, and into the mountains. Everyone on the ground watched them in anticipation. No one knew what was happening, as the base's communication system had been destroyed, and nothing was heard back from the four ships of the 32nd that left.
A half an hour passed while the ships had left. Soon, they flew back in over the mountains. Everyone on the airfield scrambled toward the wrecked control tower or off the field into the forest, to allow the ships to land. The two troop carriers landed first, full of the soldiers that were lead into the forest by the 'Prassad major. They were followed by the four ships, two of which had suffered major damage. Once they landed, the troop carriers released their Anasian cargo, some of whom were wounded. Mechanics and medics raced to the ships, tending to all that needed tending to. Triad, who, amidst all this, had been doing his best to make it back through the chaos on the airfield, wound up back in the forest when the ships had landed. He tried once more to make it back through the mob of soldiers, medics, and everyone else, and ended up next to one of the Admiral's troop carriers. "What the hell happened?" Triad loudly asked a soldier from the ship who was running past. The soldier, a tall, muscular female Vulpinasian stopped and faced him. "Where's your commander?" He asked. "Sir. Admiral Achemar is aboard the ship." She pointed to the ship they were standing next to. "Thank you." Triad said to her, running toward the ship's main entrance ramp. He ran up it, and found Admiral Achemar talking with the Vul'Prassad major and three soldiers. "Sir," Triad said as he approached the admiral, "What happened?" The Admiral looked at him, and replied, "There were two groups of guerilla units with five men each. One artillery team and one missile team. They were all killed on the ground, there were no prisoners taken. Indecently, I believe we have found our missile. You are in luck. The missile team had fifteen of the new AC-U-11 missiles that we began manufacturing for the war last year. The serial codes had been burned off, so we believe that they were acquired black-market, and off planet, probably stolen and trafficked by the Rederaks. Those gangsters are probably active in the city, so I'd expect that there's a large underground weapons trade going on here." Triad listened as the admiral went on, "We are trying to contact the Kithanda authorities at the present moment. Perhaps it's good that you are here, I understand you are related to the ruling family on this part of the planet?" "Well," Triad was not expecting this. "Yes sir, I am, except that I don't exactly, um, talk to that half of the family. I don't know how much use I'll be, as I'm not exactly on good terms with them." The admiral looked at him, with a glint of contempt in his steely eyes. "Is that so? Well, let me advise you that planetary security is at risk here, and any petty family squabbles must be put aside to ensure that this does not happen again." He pointed to the wall on his right, where a small screen was lit up, with one of the other Admirals in the landing party in front of it, talking to a uniformed Kithanda general. "Go over there and sort this out," Achemar ordered triad, "I have work to attend to." Triad hesitantly approached the screen. He turned to the admiral attending the screen, and listened in on their conversation, waiting for a break in it to speak. "And listen," the Admiral was yelling, "I am trying to tell you. There was an attack on the base. The attackers had stolen CT missiles. The only criminal group in the entire confederation that are organized and trained enough to be able to successfully steal a missile out of a CT base are the Rederaks." "I understand that, Admiral." the Kithanda general replied, "And we're more than willing to help you out as best we can. However, our leader is busy at the moment, and asks not to be disturbed." "And why the hell not?" the admiral yelled back. "Well, um, because he is currently on the commode, sir." the general replied, with a look of embarrassment on his face. The admiral glanced over at Triad for a moment. "Can you believe this shit?" He said to triad under his breath. Triad let out a small grin for a split second and shook his head. "You tell Charles Kithanda to finish wiping his ass, and then get him on here. You understand?" the admiral yelled back at the general. The general nodded, and was replaced on the screen by the Kithanda coat of arms. The admiral turned to triad. "I swear to the Gods that I hate dealing with the officials on this planet. I have had more stress dealing with the Kithanda government that I have had anywhere else in the AC." Triad looked at him awkwardly. "I am terribly sorry sir." "It's alright, there's nothing you can do about it. Forgive me, I am Admiral-One Chevel. I don't believe we've met?" "Yes sir, we have, briefly on the tarmac when you landed. I am Maj-- er, um, Acting Admiral Kithanda. Admiral Achemar sent me over here to talk with the Kithanda government about this." "Oh, that's right, I didn't recognize you, you're covered in dirt. Well, you're a Kithanda, right, so you should be able to get them to try to find the where the missiles came from?" "I honestly have no idea sir. Admiral Achemar thought that I could, but I told him that it's highly unlikely that my presence here will help things out. I really should be out on the field helping my people out." "Why don't you think you'll be able to help?" Chevel asked. "Well, family issues, sir." Triad replied, looking at his feet as he did so. Admiral Chevel cocked his head slightly to the left.. "That's a real bitch. Did you mention that to Achemar?" "I did," Triad replied, "and he sent me over here anyway." Chevel grinned. "Admiral Achemar is such an asshole. Alright, well--" The conversation was cut short when the screen in front in front of them transformed from the Kithanda coat of arms to the glowering face of the Kithanda patriarch. "What is so important that I must be bothered at such an inconvenient time?" Triad felt his stomach drop when he saw Charles. Admiral Chevel noticed Triad's anxiety, and took over. "Hello sir," Chevel began smoothly, "I am Admiral-One Menar Chevel with the Califeron Teseretz. I am currently on an inspection tour of CT-6284. We were attacked three hours ago by an unknown guerilla group, possibly members of the Zerdic Liberation front, who were in possession of missiles stolen from the CT, most likely by the Rederak crime syndicate, who are most likely operating in your territory." He paused for a moment. Charles let out a sigh and rested his head in his hand. "Go on." "As you know sir, the Rederaks are dangerous."Chevel continued, "If they establish a foothold on your planet they will take over and spread to other vulpic planets. You are aware of the problems the Rederaks cause on the Felinasian and Lupinasian planets?" "Yes, I am quite aware. I stay informed." Charles replied. "Very good sir. Then I'm sure you do not want them here. We ask for your help in finding those who are responsible for the sale of these munitions, as this is not in our jurisdiction." "Fine. I'll get my generals to send out an investigation force in a moment. You have been having a lot of problems up there at the base lately. I wasn't aware Admiral Lekbam was this incompetent. Might I ask what the problem is? "I am not aware what specific problems you are talking about, however, I do know that Admiral-One Lekbam was killed in a recent attack on the base. I do have the acting base commander here, I'm sure he could fill you in." Admiral Chevel looked at triad, shrugged his shoulders, and moved away from the screen.
This day just gets worse and worse, Triad thought. He took a deep breath and slowly sat down in front of the screen. "And you are?" Charles asked. "I am the acting base commander." Triad began, "Two months ago we--" . Charles cut him off. "What is your name? You're covered in mud, wipe yourself off." Triad picked up a towel that was laying on top of the communications console, and dusted his face and clothes off. Fuck, he thought, he didn't recognize me. "Maj-- Acting Admiral Kithanda. Two months ago we--" He was cut off again. "You? How in the hell did you replace Admiral Lekbam?" "I'm trying to tell you how I replaced the Admiral. If you'll let me talk, I'll go on." Triad replied. "I don't believe this." Charles was furious. "There is no possible way that you are responsible for that entire base. What, did everyone else get killed?" "Yes. that's what I was trying to tell you. With the war on, we haven't had any replacements arrive, and with the recent attacks, we've lost a lot of people and resources. Which is why we need your assistance. We assisted you in the war a year ago, it'd be the least you can do." Triad told Charles. Charles thought it over for a moment. "This is true. very well, I'll help you. But I will send my letter of protest to the CT sector command on Vulpinasia explaining how you are unfit to command this base." Triad felt a growing wave of anger begin to rise up in him, but then he remembered how much he hated being forced into this position. "Fine. Go ahead." He said, "I'd appreciate that, actually, as I really don't think that I'm the right person for this job anyway. I'd like to go back to patrolling the base in the morning and doing nothing the rest of the day. Now I have to deal with people dying on my watch, asshole admirals who investigate me for the smallest thing, and arrogant world leaders like you. I'd go AWOL, but I don't feel like spending the next fifteen years in a cell. So really, please, do this for me, it would help a lot." Charles looked at Triad through the screen and considered his options. "Well, I might, anyway. We shall see." Triad got up from the chair and left the screen. Charles protested his departure, but Triad ignored him. Admiral Chevel returned to the screen, and continued talking to Charles. Triad continued walking, past Admiral Achemar, who ignored him, instead favoring conversation with the Vul'Prassad major, the presense of which Triad felt disturbing. He walked down the ramp of the craft and onto the tarmac, where he found himself looking out over the smoldering ruins of the Control tower, and the remaining personnel on the tarmac performing their various duties. Most of the dead and wounded had been removed from the area, and everyone who was not on duty was ordered to leave. Triad walked among those remaining in a daze. He couldn't make out what was going on anymore. and what was worse, all the activity in the last few hours had triggered a relapse in flashbacks from psychological torture he received in the last war. He desperately wanted rest. He desperately wanted his old life back. He desperately wanted out of the military. He walked over to where he thought Jill had parked her H-car earlier. It had been crushed under a giant chunk of concrete that was once part of the control tower. "Damn it." he said. He continued walking. He walked over to the remains of the base's communications array. There were a team of technicians vainly attempting to repair the array. They weren't successful, and Triad could see that they weren't going to be. "Go home. You aren't going to be able to fix that tonight. Set up as much of a basic communications system as you can, with whatever backup or spare parts you can find. Then call it a night." They looked at him and replied "Yes sir." He walked on. He passed the base's three hangars, including the one he and most of the other officers called home for a while. He noticed that there were still dozens of cots set up in the rear corner. His spirits sank even more. I never should have taken this job. But, he thought, there was no way Captain Kleuge could have handled this either. None of us could, and the damn CT isn't even helping me out at all on this. They leave me with a half-destroyed base, dozens of dead personnel and all kinds of other tragic crap, and expect me to be able to handle it properly? This is bullshit. They can find someone else, I'm done.
He located the nearest H-car he could find, and started it up. He lifted off from the lawn that surrounded the communications array, and flew west, toward a place he occasionally went when he felt the need to get away from it all. Up until a couple of months ago, it was where he and his friends on base went when they were off duty to smoke, eat and drink various intoxicating substances that were not exactly looked highly upon by the CT. It was also meaningful to him, as the place was one of the Teucetya area's most prominent landmarks, and shared it's name with part of his. Kithanda Rock was a mile tall spire of igneous rock that was once the core of an extremely ancient volcano whose entire sides had been eroded away. It could be seen for miles, but the top was nearly inaccessible, due to the mile high vertical drop. Triad, though, would fly his H-car to the top of it. Because the Kithanda family owned the land, he was allowed access to the top, while the usual tourists and the like were required to remain at the bottom. He flew up there again, despite being on duty. He could not stay down there any longer and keep his sanity. The conditions were just too awful, and besides, the Admirals from Vulpinasia were controlling things anyway. He obviously was not needed, and would probably just get in the way further. He flew up the side of the rock facing away from the city and the base so as not to be seen. He then landed on the top, which was a nearly flat surface about 100 feet across at the widest. It was a lot colder and windier up here, triad thought, than he remembered. He got out of the H-car, and sat down in front of it, looking out over the vast, sprawling city of Teucetya. The two suns were getting low in the sky, and were an unusually deep shade of red, he noticed. Then he saw that the light from them was being filtered through the smoke that lay over CT-6284.
He sighed. He truly loved the city of Teucetya. He was born there, and despite its recent failings, he still was proud to call it home. He felt as though he had let it down, but he also understood that things beyond his control had happened, and that there was nothing he could do at this point. He sat, and waited. He stared upon the area for what felt like hours to him. His mind was totally blank, and he almost didn't notice the humming of a distant H-car coming up the side of the cliffs behind him. He got up, and turned around, his fur violently flapping in the exhaust winds of the car's hoverdrive. It was a CT vehicle, official looking. He knew what was about to happen. They had followed him to his sanctuary, and were now going to arrest him for leaving his post. He braced himself for the inevitable as the H-car's doors came open. Lieutenant Kate Omnifox came out, and walked up to him. "I heard from Jill that you were up here. Is everything okay?" She asked him. He wondered how Jill knew he had left. He sighed, though, in relief that it was only Kate his old friend, and not some of the Admiral's soldiers. "No, Kate, I'm not sure it is anymore." he said. "Why?" she asked. Triad pointed toward the lights from the city. "You see that?" He asked her. "See what?" "The city." "Teucetya? What about it?" She asked. "I give it about four months before shit hits the fan down there." he replied gravely. ."Triad, what the hell are you talking about?" Triad sighed. "Here, let me try to explain..."