FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Reunion: Chapter 9

Allen had expected a full scale revolt from the Canis once the operations had gotten under way, but he was surprised to see that there was barely any resistance. Some Canis tried to resist the waves of Dog Catchers and soldiers that were occupying the slums, but in most part the Canis were largely compliant. They simply didn't have the means to resist even if they wanted to. Weapons were highly regulated and in the day and age they lived in, nearly every weapon that was privately owned was tracked. Every military weapon was guaranteed to be tracked and that left a very small black market that sold weapons to anyone with enough money, money which the Canis did not have.

As a result, the data that was coming in was showing that operations across the city were going according to plan and were on schedule, minus one anomaly. Allen noticed this when he had to go over the numbers on how many Canis were being brought in. He had been assigned to watch over the processing facility where all of the psionic Canis that were caught were initially brought to before being shipped off to other facilities.

He noticed that there was always some district that would show unsatisfactory results which wasn't unexpected, not everything went to plan and Allen would have dropped it until he noticed the pattern. After a few days the numbers from the district would go back up, but the area next to it would go down. This had been occurring for a few days. There was something disrupting the soldiers there and Allen intended to find out what it was.

Colonel Finch was the officer in charge of processing. He oversaw every Canis that came into the facility and ultimately decided where they went. Some went to research, some went to reconditioning to be turned into soldiers to be used later. He based his decision on many factors. If a Canis was overly aggressive, then it went to research, soldiers needed to be obedient. The same was true for Canis who proved to be too timid. Though he couldn't be too picky or he wouldn't meet the quota that had been set by his superiors.

The steady stream of Canis, roughly 100 a day, kept the man busy and trapped in his office most nights. He could have easily requested aides to take over much of the workload, though that would have broken his belief that he needed to just as busy as everyone else.

He was looking over the reports of a Class 2 mover that showed knowledge in mechanics when he disabled several of the transport vehicles that gave him chase. No one was killed in the brief but exciting skirmish, only a few broken bones when the disabled transports fell from the sky. It was a relief, the colonel didn't have access to many casualty reports, but he was smart enough to know that there were some. There were times when squads that brought in their captured quarry would simply cease to come to the facility anymore, replaced by another squad which then disappeared again. There was no reason to do that unless the squad was either destroyed or broken up due to casualties.

Normally he would have said something, but the people up above were getting touchy and prodding the wrong ones with the wrong subject was a quick way to get reassigned to the field. He was too old for field work in his opinion. He was a balding, middle aged man that was well past his prime, desk work was perfectly fine for him as long as he could be useful.

"Colonel Finch." A knock came at the open door that led into the office which was situated on a catwalk that overlooked the main operating floor that held most of the Canis' that awaited his final verdict. Like his need to work as hard as anyone else, he also liked to see his work which was why he had his office so close to the Canis.

Looking up, Finch recognized Lieutenant Allen Reynolds in his military fatigues with a standard issue handgun strapped to his side. The lieutenant was also carrying a datapad that contained his observation on the shifting slum districts. Finch knew most of the people under his command, especially fellow Marines. Before the Canis operations had begun, Allen was one of the officers he served with while on General Corrin's command ship. The number of faces he recognized on a daily basis was shrinking so he welcomed someone familiar.

Putting down the file of the Canis that he was going to have sent to be reconditions, the colonel gave Allen his attention. "What can I do for you Lieutenant?" He asked and motioned to the chair.

Taking the seat and setting the data pad on the table in front of Finch, Allen explained his findings. "I find it odd that the number of anomalous districts is snaking its way around the slums." He pointed out what he saw and the colonel nodded, listening intently. He saw it too and it was a matter of concern though there was nothing he could do about it. He had no control over what was happening outside of the processing facility.

"I don't know what you want me to do about this." He sighed and tried to offer an apologetic smile to Allen. "This is something that would concern a different office."

"I just wanted to get it out there." Allen breathed out and hooked the data pad onto his belt now that he had shown all he could. "Something's going on out there and I think it's big."

"I agree." Finch agreed and took out his communicator. He had been in the Marines to have earned a few friends over the years. "I'll look into it." Allen had done enough to sufficiently interest him to at least see if there was a problem. He would be able to feign that any issues on the field would affect his ability to do his own job and that was slightly true so there was little worry of being accused of lying.

A few calls and redirections and Finch had someone in the intelligence department on the line. It was an old friend who owed him a few favors back when he was a captain. They had gone their separate ways, but both remembered the small debt and it was time to pay it back.

"Yeah, I know all about it." The squeaky voice of a very point-dexter looking man echoed through. The connection was poor, the colonel was using a personal communicator that had a hard time getting a signal through the various scrubbers that were meant to keep nonmilitary traffic out. He was only getting the call through because his personal communicator was on a list that gave him low priority access.

"Can you tell me anything about what is going on?" Finch asked.

"Not much." The person who had the insignia of a Major and a brass name tag that read Wilson said and adjusted his glasses. "All I can tell you is that there's some sort of wild goose chase going and that a specialized unit is being sent in."

"I thought Dog Catchers were already specialized." Finch crossed his arms. He tried to think of any unit that he may have heard about other than Dog Catchers that would have been trained to deal with psionics. He couldn't think of any. Even the best of the Marines would need some sort of training in order to avoid having a car dropped on them or having their brains scrambled.

"I guess this unit is more specialized." Wilson shrugged and looked around off the screen. He was at his station going over intel from the field. He wasn't supposed to be on the communicator while at work and the only reason why he wasn't getting in trouble was because the call looked official. Anyone else that looked at Wilson saw him talking to a colonel in an office.

"Must be a real doozy if the Dog Catchers are having trouble." Finch chuckled at the thought. He didn't like the Dog Catchers, they were just a bunch of military police with a Napoleon complex in his opinion. They were hardly needed since Canis rarely caused trouble. Now that the Marines were largely taking orders from them, he only disliked them more.

"Look I wasn't going to tell you this before..." He gave one more look around his work space. There was no one within earshot and he thought that it would be redundant to have listening devices in the place where listening devices transmitted their data. "There have been rumors going around here, rumors that are putting a lot of the staff on edge." He was nearly whispering.

"Well spit it out." This time it was Allen who had been patiently waiting the entire time. Finch had nearly forgotten that he never dismissed the man and now it was too late to do so since he had a feeling he was about to hear something that was supposed to stay behind closed doors.

Wilson looked at Finch questioningly, unsure if he should continue talking with someone far below their pay grade in the room.

"Just tell us." Finch insisted. "He is the one who brought this whole matter to my attention in the first place." He had earned the right to know.

"Well." Wilson continued. "Supposedly the special unit is being sent after a." He bit his lower lip because he himself was very skeptical about the information. "a Class 5." He said the words as if it would summon some monster to take him away for even mentioning it.

Finch leaned back into his chair. He was shocked to hear such a thing, but he didn't let it show. He wasn't about to take it to be true since Wilson was reluctant. He knew what a Class 5 was, everyone who was working on gathering up the psionics knew. The Marines had to go through a quick study program to get them all up to speed and there was a short segment on the different classes.

"Interesting." Finch rubbed his receding hairline, for a moment, wishing that for once the government would spend a little less money on the military and more on a sure-fired way to get his hair back. The thought went away as quickly as it came up and he was refocused. "Thanks for the information Wilson."

"Yeah. If you get into trouble, I didn't tell you anything." He tried to joke, but it came out serious and he ended the call.

"So there's a Class 5 running around." Allen shifted in his seat. He had been sitting there for too long and really should have been back working some time ago. "It would explain why different districts are having trouble."

"It would, but Wilson didn't confirm it though." He reminded the lieutenant. "It's just a rumor for now, but I want you to keep an eye on the situation."

"Yes sir." Allen saluted, recognizing that he had his orders and was being dismissed. He got up and left the room to go back and analyze more data since it was possible that something could have happened during the time he was in the room. He hurried down the corridor, focused on the task that he had been assigned. So focused that he didn't notice the group of people down below inspecting the Psionic Canis that wore neuro-collars that kept their powers under control.

They stood out from the clean, well groomed soldiers even though they were wearing the same armor. They had tattoos, off regulation hair cuts and a lust to get out into the world. The only thing that was keeping them in line at the moment was a promise that they had been given. Once out in the field and the target was in sight, they could use any means necessary to capture the Class 5. They were being briefed, afterwards they would be outfitted with weapons and set loose.