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*****

"Federation prevails indeed, Colonel. Murkov out." Lord-general Isac Murkov said, pressing a button on his computer that shut down the video call to Colonel Schaefer. The black Schnauzer stroked his beard idly as he leaned back in his chair. Things were going just as planned, the unpleasant business of vermin extermination on Sade was about to be wrapped up and the weather outside was nice and sunny. All in all it was a good day for the Lord-general.

The Lord-general's penthouse office was impressively large, decorated lavishly with a plush wine-red wall-to-wall carpet, furniture made of rare woods and the walls were decorated with all kinds of diplomas, medals and other such ostentatious military regalia. The view from the massive bullet-proof windows to the city below was absolutely stunning, showing the mostly white buildings of the city as well as a little bit of the ocean far in the horizon.

The Schnauzer opened to top drawer of his desk, pulling out a shot glass and a bottle of fine, well-aged brandy. He poured himself a sturdy shot and brough the glass up to his nose, inhaling the rich, deep aroma before downing the drink in one go, a content sigh passing through his lips as the beverage left a pleasant trail of heat down his throat and all the way to his stomach.

Just as Murkov had placed the glass and bottle back into the drawer there was a knock on the door. A Skunk orderly in a prim and proper starched uniform entered briskly after the Lord-general had given him the green light with a press of a button.

"Sir!" The Skunk saluted sharply in front of Murkov's desk, the Schnauzer returning the salute automatically. "There is a letter for you, Sir, and I was told to deliver it to you post-haste. I was told it was an alpha-double-plus priority letter."

Murkov nodded curtly "Very well. Leave it on my desk. Dismissed."

The Skunk placed the envelope neatly in front of the Lord-general, snapped another salute and spun around on his heels in a parade ground perfect motion, marching just as briskly out as he had entered.

The Schnauzer picked up the envelope after a few moments of hesitation. There were very, very few people in the entire Galactic Federation with the authority to issue an alpha-double-plus rating to anything, and Murkov had his own suspicions about who had sent the letter.

Quickly the dog ripped the envelope open, fishing out the small paper that had been neatly folded in two. As he had suspected, the paper itself had no text but only a single image of a slightly smudgy inkblot and a knife.

With a sigh Murkov dropped the letter onto the table, tapped a few keyes on his command console and called out "I know you're in here, Shadowlord. You can quit hiding now."

A figure clad in long, consealing black robes seemed to materialize out of thin air in the shadowy corner of the room, inky black wisps of smoke dissipating into nothingness as the commander of SpecOps and lord of the Shade order stepped into the light.

Murkov was less than impressed by his colleagues antics. "Nice touch, those wisps of hologrammic smoke and shadow. Your own invention?"

The Shadowlord gave a short, dry chuckle. It was nigh impossible to say anything about the robe-clad creature, but from the brief flash of long frontal incisors as a bit of light reflected from the table to the figure's face one could've assumed the Shadowlord was a rodent of some variety.

"My own addition indeed, Lord-general. A 'nice touch' as you put it." The Shadowlord replied, standing with his arms hanging casually by his sides in front of Murkov's table.

The Schnauzer sighed deep and pinched the bridge of his nose. The Shadowlord's visits almost always meant trouble for him "How many 'unfortunate accidents' do I have to explain away this time? The four guards you killed last time you decided to drop by for a visit were hard enough to explain away..." Murkov held a pause and pointed then an accusing finger at the SpecOps' leader "This would all be much easier if you didn't insist on remaining completely unseen, you know."

The Shadowlord raised one paw, still covered by his long sleeve, as a sign of truce "I'm sure you'll be delighted to know I didn't have to kill anyone to make this visit. The improvements to my gear allow me to stay undetected the whole trip through this building now, so none of your precious goons have to die to maintain the absolute secrecy of these meetings."

"This has to be some kind of a record... Now what do you want?" Murkov growled, fixing himself another stiff drink and downing it in one go before paying any further attention to the robed intruder.

"It's about Project Brotherhood. Word has reached me that the small-scale test group has pulled yet another seemingly impossible mission with flying colours. Certain loudmouthed navy commander notwithstanding, of course." The Shadowlord said plainly. His tone was calm and even no matter the circumstances and that apparent lack of emotions was what creeped Murkov out the most about the rodent.

"Yes indeed, I just actually had a conversation with Colonel Schaefer and gave the unit their new orders. It is a high time we test how an extended period of low activity affects the group's dynamics." The Lord-general was leaning his elbows on the table once more, resting his chin on interlaced fingers.

"So everything is moving according to schedule. Good." The Shadowlord held a brief pause of a couple of heartbeats before continuing "My man on the inside has provided significant intel into the unit's dynamics, as well as some... Interesting medical data regarding the Panacea Universalis vaccine. What about your inside man?"

Murkov grunted "He's been doing quite well as well... Managed to convince some of the other members of the unit to sexually assault another Marine; the Hyena I orchestrated into the unit to see how that would affect the group. A shame such brutality had to be commited, but Schaefer would never have otherwise used the new subliminal conditioning program. And before you ask, yes, it seems to be working well. Now what is this medical data all about?"

"Take a look." The robed figure said, procuring a data pad from within his robes and placing it onto the table for Murkov to see. Whilst the Lord-general was going over the pages of data the Shadowlord spoke again "It seems that there are some... Side effects to the vaccine. Increased sexdrive is the more harmless of the two, but apparently the quality of the subjects' sperm is also suffering. It looks like they most likely won't be able to produce offspring at all in a few years if this level of degradation keeps up."

"Irrelevant." Murkov said, pushing the data pad back to the Shadowlord "I was well aware this might happen, and this is one of the reasons we've been selecting specifically homosexuals or those with homosexual tendencies for the unit through our screening program. They wouldn't reproduce anyway, so loss of that capability won't be a problem for them."

"Speaking of the screening... I know you wanted an update on the progress for cranking Project Brotherhood on to the large scale. We've gotten roughly fifteen hundred Marines screened as suitable candidates. Another five hundred or so and we've got the bare minimum for an actual regiment." The Shadowlord held another brief pause and Murkov could just imagine the disapproval on the rodent's face "I'm still saying -and am not the only one amongst the Circle- that the progress would be far swifter if you weren't so stubborn about selecting only canines for this."

"And I keep telling you it is scientifically proven that canines are far more inclined to follow a naturally strong leader, as well as capable of assuming a working hierarchy amongst themselves. It's in our genes, one might say." The Schnauzer kept staring at the Shadowlord's face, even if it was hidden underneath the hood, a determined scowl on the dog's face. They'd had this conversation before and the other members of the Circle of the Worthy -a gathering of people which secretly included such notable people as the Arch Priest of Machala and the Grand Chancelor of the Senate- had thus far always bowed to his expertise on the matter.

"And no one in the Circle denies the data, Lord-general. At any rate, we expect to be ready for the next stage within twelve standard months. There may be great potential hidden in Project Brotherhood and we are all simply anxious to see if it bear fruit. Whilst we're on the subject..." The Shadowlord crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke "Other members of our little Circle have expressed their concern over the swiftly soaring fame of the twelfth Marine Company and, especially, Colonel Edward Schaefer."

Murkov waved a paw dismissively towards the Shadowlord "Bah! Schaefer is utterly loyal to me and the Federation. He won't be betraying us, but just to be sure I've already planned on disposing of him once he is no longer useful. I've even thought of a replacement for him." As he spoke Murkov sought out the file he needed on his computer, turning the screen around to show to his co-conspirator.

"Major Ludvig Schrekke..." The Shadowlord mumbled quietly whilst staring at the picture and bio on the screen. In the picture stood a haughty looking Fox with a noble bearing and a handsome face. "I've heard of him. An actual scion of aristocracy from one of the inner worlds and an officer with a spotless record. Tanaga system, third world if I'm not mistaken. You've picked well, though I never would've thought he'd get a ping in our screening program."

"He hides it well, indeed, but all the signs point towards it. The system isn't one hundred percent accurate, though, as proven by certain individuals... Well, an individual nowadays I suppose, in the twelfth." The Schnauzer held a small pause before adding "A pity, really... Schaefer is quite something different, and not just because he has a perfect success rate in his missions."

The Shadowlord let out a little chuckle "You're referring to his score on the Horstmann-Lahti's test?"

"Yes. He scored an astounding twenty three out of a hundred on the test; one of the highest ever measured. Granted, this still means he isn't truly psi-sensitive -he would've needed a fifty or above for that- but you know he has a kind of a sixth sense." Murkov replied, standing finally up from his seat. "Now if you excuse me, I have a scheduled brunch with the other leaders of High Command, followed by a PR show match of tennis against the governor's son and it would reflect poorly on me if I was to be late from either event."

"Makes me glad I don't have to keep up such a public image. Federation prevails, Lord-general. The rest of us will be awaiting further reports eagerly... I'll have you know, though. I may have found someone who leaves even Schaefer far behind on the Horstmann-Lahti's scale." The Shadowlord said, vanishing then amidst coiling shadows and inky-black mist as he backed away into a corner.

"Federation prevails..." Murkov mumbled automatically, powering down his computer and picking up his briefcase before exiting the room. The Shadowlord's claim of having found someone more sensitive than Schaefer troubled the Lord-general. Murkov let out a deep sigh before opening the door. It had been such a nice day up until that point...

*****